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(Dedicated to Barbara and Leslie, who loved and lost Spectre, along with us. Thank you.)

Remember to love deeply and hold loosely. – Gussie Fauntleroy

Fly Spectre Fly!!

What I didn’t want to cover in my last essay about Spectre was that, although his body was unable to function due to the melanomas wrapped around his jugular vein and intestines, he was not ready to go. When we prepared to euthanize him, we gathered in the remote, upper field – our animal graveyard, where the bodies of our beloveds returned to the soil. Moving a dead horse is not an easy task and the death ritual has to be planned in advance. The backhoe has to be ready to dig the hole, right then and there, to bury him. If a horse dies in a stall, you have a serious problem on your hands.

When Keith inserted the needle to euthanize Spectre, despite David holding him, Spectre boldly tried to walk on. Two men were nearly unable to keep the needle in his neck. Barbara and I stood by in horror at the scene where our veterinarian was trying to end the life of Spectre, our beautiful, mighty Patriarch of the barn. Finally, Spectre went down on one knee; he needed to be completely overpowered to go down. He demonstrated to me what the body is capable of: that the body wants to live at any cost, whether it has melanomas strangling organs from the inside out, or not. In looking back at the trauma of the spectacle, I saw Spectre’s warrior nature. I saw his power and I saw his terror. With Spectre’s strength, he could have overpowered us, but he just walked on – always a gentleman. Spectre didn’t go gentle into that good night.

In my last blog, I did not talk about the emotional cost of keeping my body alive. I did not talk about the intermittent, insidious bladder spasms that often leave me soaked in urine that inevitably accelerates skin breakdown. I don’t like to complain about the small stuff; I just do my version of walking on. I believe much of my suffering so far has been necessary, humbling me, stripping me to my basic core. I have learned that when I can love myself with this illness, I can love myself wholly and in that way, the process becomes a holy practice. The true love of my life has been my inner work which extends to my work with others, so they can also access that holy state of being. This illness has served my highest soul’s desire and for that I am deeply grateful. I am not special; it is just my time and I have said yes to the Universe. Everybody will, in one’s own time.

When I listen deeply to my bladder, I hear that it is trying desperately to expel the catheter, the foreign object that has invaded it for the past six years. In the vernacular, my bladder is pissed off. When I realize this, I have compassion and know that my body is not my enemy, but my advocate, and a damn good sport at that!

I didn’t mention my extreme diet and protocols I have followed for the last thirty years – the daily green smoothies I force myself to swallow, knowing that they make my skin more resilient to heal the inevitable pressure sores from sitting twenty-two hours a day and the multiple injuries I am sustaining more frequently, due to my body’s increased structural weakness. The disease progression continues, despite my efforts to enter remission. I am constantly strategizing on how to prolong my life, while lessening the suffering. For me, it is a Sacred practice chosen by my soul. I know that, because my ego would never freaking choose this!

I refused the traditional MS drugs, because I did not want to suppress my immune system, which was the best the medical profession had to offer this unrelenting, mysterious illness they call primary progressive multiple sclerosis, or PPMS, and have no clue how to treat. I searched for healing on three continents over twenty-five years, both alternative and allopathic. My main criteria was that it had to resonate as true healing, not tricking the body. In retrospect, many of my friends who attempted the mostly ineffective MS drugs have more debilitating symptoms today, due to the disastrous side effects, without having slowed the disease process, as promised. I don’t feel righteous or resentful; I feel tremendous heartbreak watching the physical devastation unfold in those I care about and for those who courageously watch mine.

We are all just walking each other Home – Ram Dass

Ram Dass says, when we live more from our souls, then death becomes just another moment. As we become initiated by life: either due to body breakdown through illness, injury, aging, death of a loved one, or even our beloved pets dying when we are young, we learn that we are more than this vehicle we call our body. As we meet our initiations and move through the anger and fear, we can begin to live more from our Souls.

If my beloveds experience me only as my physical presentation, the loss is devastating. If we have a soul connection beyond the physical my process can also be awe-inspiring, because paradoxically, as my body deconstructs, my spirit grows, exponentially. I am left with gratitude as it has helped me grow patience in accepting my circumstances with Grace and dignity. (If you are reading my blogs, you are likely in the latter category and you are being initiated right along with me. Thank you for that. It is clearly the road less traveled.)

We tried any experimental drug available on Spectre. Like progressive MS, there is no treatment for progressive equine melanoma, at this time. We would have extended his life at any cost, however I am now learning that more time does not necessarily equate with more quality of life. I came to realize that by prolonging Spectre’s suffering, I was avoiding my own grief at his expense, not an easy realization to hold.

Fortunately, for our animal friends we have euthanasia to help them avoid needless suffering. Some of my Buddhist friends reject its use believing that all suffering, in animals and humans, is necessary for our evolution. Every animal communicators (those gifted individuals who can speak to our beloved animals “on the other side”) whom I’ve read, or spoken to directly about euthanasia, have, unequivocally, expressed our animal’s gratitude to the humans for helping to end their suffering.

I believe animals are here to teach us humans. Many states have begun to offer aid-in-dying, which is popular with over 60% of the people. The qualification process is arduous for those facing death, but empowering once completed. Now we have the choice to discern what resonates for each of us as ethical and true to help our physical bodies come to completion, gently.

Six years ago I was told that my kidneys were going to fail if I didn’t allow a urinary catheter to be inserted permanently. I agreed, because I had places to go and people to see! There is a cost for going against nature; the contraindications need to be considered. My bladder revolts at times resulting in spasms (mentioned above) and urinary tract infections. Constant use of antibiotics can result in resistance leading to superbugs. Kidney failure, aspiration pneumonia, and sepsis are common causes of death, when allowed to follow the natural progression of the illness. One doesn’t die from MS, one dies from “complications from MS.”

As we evolve as a culture and there is less fear around death, more options for supporting this sacred transition are becoming available to ease one’s suffering. When the body is ready to complete itself and turn from the physical toward the soul for animation, other initiates will appear. Perhaps they will be in the form of friends, family, those being trained as death doulas and midwives. As the Feminine rises, there will be less fear around choice, and the desire to control other people’s bodies will be seen as archaic.

There is a time to walk on and a time to take a knee in surrender to the soul’s desires. May we be granted the Wisdom to hear our  inner guidance and the Courage to follow our own Truth.

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“I admire that you are not willing to sacrifice life, for survival.” – Harald Kasper, physical therapistperson-sitting-on-cliff

When I was two years old, I was standing in the front bench seat of our 1955 automobile when we ran into another car. My mother broke her pelvis, walked around to be sure all the children were safe, sat down and could not stand up. There were no seatbelts those days and there wasn’t yet an awareness of the lethality of motor vehicle accidents. As we integrated automobiles into our culture, the need for safety came to the forefront. During my generation, car seats for children became a necessary commodity. Some people wore their seatbelts and others did not. It was a choice, until it was not. When people were sustaining injuries and dying, wearing a seatbelt became law. Some laws evolve with the technology and some laws become obsolete as the culture evolves.

Recently, I have been criticize for choosing a lifestyle that is unconventional for someone as disabled as I am. After all, I cannot move a muscle from the neck down. I am completely dependent on my care team for every bodily function, except breathing. And I live in a remote mountain town that is considered the frontier, not even rural, which would have more medical services.

I have always lived on the edge of this paradigm we call life, but it has never been as obvious as now when I am breaking all the rules of what one should do when one is critically ill. From pushing my limits as an adolescent to riding my motorcycle to Key West during college (yes, I wore a helmet with a visor!) I have always pushed people who love me to their edge of reasoning, past their comfort zone. I don’t mean to sound cavalier about this at all. A lot of me wants to stay safe in the old, familiar ways of living life. I have to trudge through a lot of difficult feelings to summon the courage of forging new ground.

First, I have to feel the uneasiness of moving forward from a place I could call familiar, but as I’ve become more sensitive, I notice and incongruence. When I think of taking an an alternate route that feels more authentic, I have to wade through the density of darkness. When I dissect this darkness, it not only includes my own remnants of self-hatred, but also ways I’ve absorbed other people’s fear of the unknown. For me, fear is always a catalyst for entering this level of blackness. Being able to bear the pain at this level of malignant, self-hatred and, instead of retracting, going one step further and creating expansiveness around it allows the blackness to begin to lighten. Peering into the light, I can see the anatomy of this old, familiar feelings of unworthiness. Memories of all the times I’ve betrayed myself from deferring to other people’s truth. In deeper exploration, I was able to see the many times I was  willing to sacrifice my life for mere survival, which translated into sacrificing my significant need for autonomy for either of two reasons: to avoid feeling my greatest fear – being alone and helpless or to alleviate other people’s pain. Although the former is more conscious, the latter might seem noble, but, believe me, it is more insidious.

So, yes, I am on the leading edge of the natural death movement, something I hope will lead to “a good death,” not unlike the natural childbirths so inspiring in our area. And yes, it does push the old boundaries of the medical model, making people fearful of the issues like liability . I followed the medical model with my childbirths and I had two cesareans and general anesthesia. As many of you know about me, I don’t want to be fearful in this new birth.

I have always taken myself to the edge and rallied the resources to push a little further, so it would make sense that I would do that with others, especially being in the capacity of psychotherapist. My astrological natal chart reflects one of a powerful revolutionary with heart. It is ironic that when I cannot move a finger, I am still projecting that energetic essence. My daughter once told me that I go to places that scare her and show her that it is safe. During this time when people are creating a new paradigm for living and dying, it’s important to illuminate and dismantle that which keeps us from our birthright, living life and death fully and authentically.

“There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it.” – Edith Wharton

Mirror number twoI started writing this blog entry months ago. And then I stopped. I couldn’t write anymore, because I believed I could not do it justice. When I returned to the essay this morning, I realized the irony of what was blocking my expression: judgment! Then I remembered a clever Facebook post:

The Creative Process
1. This is awesome.
2. This is tricky.
3. This is shit.
4. I am shit.
5. This might be okay.

6. This is awesome.

Probably, our worst critic is ourselves. Self-judgment can be most obvious in the creative process. Creativity can be completely overridden by the often brutal self-doubting voice. If one wants to come to terms with this inner saboteur, our human minds provide much material for exploration through self-reflection. Michael Singer calls the inner critic the roommate in your head. This is the interminable voice that second guesses and narrates every move we make. What is equally harmful, but more insidious is when we judge others.

I have noticed that when I judge others I feel a numbing effect internally. Somehow, when I direct attention externally, I can temporarily avoid processing the friendly-fire of my own internal, constant self-evaluations. In that way, it is likely a defense mechanism; a defense mechanism that can become an obstacle to one’s own psychological and spiritual evolution. When I summon the courage to look closer, my judgment of others usually comes from a place of fear. When I explored the etiology of this fear, it feels primal, and has accrued from judgments sustained from others, often at an early, formidable age when I had inadequate defenses to cope with these projections.

A small child can perceive disapproval with the slightest provocation from parents merely reacting from their own self-judgments. I have noticed that these projections are often a product of others’ introjected projections that create a vicious cycle. Of course, these projections could not take hold if there weren’t an internal belief that affirmed that judgment. I believe it all starts with our own beliefs about ourselves that can amplify, and perhaps illuminate where self-awareness is possible. I used to use a silly example with my clients to demonstrate this in the hopes of increasing self-awareness. “If someone told you your hair was blue, would you take offense? Of course not, because your hair is brown. If you had bleached it blonde and it had an errant tinge of blue, you might let the judgment land and feel inferior.” There has to be a related internal belief about yourself that resonates with the external judgment, like a mirror’s reflection.

Fears cause judgment and judgment is triggered by fear. Perhaps our judgments of others serve as a primitive defense against feeling more fear and the resulting sense of separation fear incurs. Like an auraborus it is circular and a self-feeding process. if one doesn’t want to live in an unconscious, reactive place of fear which keeps self-love at bay, it is important to begin to dismantle these beliefs which can be a daunting task. Uncovering these insidious patterns can be complicated; our ego would rather maintain status quo. Change is extremely uncomfortable to the ego that wants to seemingly protect our parents from criticism or blame at all costs, despite the promise of liberation from our self-hatred and judgments that imprison us. This protection is a primitive defense to keep ourselves from feeling the natural reaction to the often unintended harm—profound grief, when feeling the grief is actually the antidote. After all, our parents are only human. As we evolve, we realize we are in a human curriculum; humans being raised by other humans. We are all here to evolve, whether we acknowledge that or not. Just because our parents were born before us does not mean they are more sophisticated spiritually. I believe if we are in this human curriculum we are incredibly courageous to have made the soul contracts with each other to do this Sacred Work.

It can be revealing to consider what our greatest judgments of others are. If you have heard the expressions: “There is nobody out there,” or “Wherever you go, there you are,” these phrases demonstrate our perception that what we perceive in the world gets reflected back by what we believe, internally. One can accept this understanding with gratitude once we move through the shame or guilt that keeps self-love from being the constant we live by, from living the love we are.

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Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. more...

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