1974.

September 8, 2019

Hey, Pete. I wanted to say something at your life celebration yesterday, but that didn’t happen.
We came together to remember and celebrate the life of our brother and friend, Pete. I’d like to share a little about what you meant to me. You were a great brother to me growing up. We played classical violin and piano together as kids. Two years apart in age and one year apart in school, we shared friends and fun times. You were my closest sibling and first jammin’ buddy. As a teen I learned how to jam when your friend Charles taught me chords. We played in a rock band in high school, a band with no name that went nowhere but was great experience. After I met Tom, we all, with Charles and others, played as The Mild West Show and The Earthlings at Turk’s Head Festival and elsewhere. Sometimes Cricket joined in on drums. Playing with you was an inspiration. Over the years our holiday family jams with Richard made for great memories.

Creator Spirit of the Universe, we thank You for giving us Pete. We are grateful for his humor, his kindness, and especially his sharing the magic of music with so many. We ask that you surround Pete, and all of us, with your loving Spirit, that you hold him in your peaceful Realm with loved ones gone on before, and that you fill us with your Love that we may continue in this plane to live up to Pete’s legacy and spread the magic of music and love to all we meet.
Pete, you are loved by so many, and you will never be forgotten. The shell of your physical existence may be gone, but your Soul lives on in the place that knows no pain nor tears. Keep on jammin’, bro… you made it to the Great Gig in the Sky.

 

How do I say goodbye?
You were always there, since I was born. 
Always one step ahead.
You tasted life first; you paved the way. 
When you were running, I was walking. 
And I was always trying to catch up with you.
We lived our lives in parallel. 
Opposite, yet somehow alike.                                                                                                     Loud, quiet; introverted.
Tall and strong, small and timid; tenderhearted.
We were on the young end of the seesaw.                                                                                  The older, more empowered; the middle, the fulcrum; the younger, the followers.
You carved out the space in the music for my harmony.                                                              Violin and piano strings vibrated together; violin gave way to guitar.
We journeyed the teen years together. 
Our circle of friends was one.
Many a day it was, driving to school;
many a night, jamming and partying.
Then spouses and kids, jobs and chores, we grew apart.
But you were always there, just a few miles away, you who had occupied the place of newness just before me.
And a soft spot in a mother’s heart.
Another to be added to the unbroken circle, a piece gone here but added There.
Breaking hearts here, healing hearts There.
A painful gulf of separation in this plane; a joyous reunion in that realm.

How do I say goodbye?                                                                                                                          Not goodbye, but adieu, go with God;                                                                                                au revoir, until I see you, and I join the circle too.                                                               Wishes of peaceful days and painfree nights.
Love rides on an angel’s wing to place unknown.
Messages to those gone before… the circle opens…
and brothers embrace.
Your golden guitar awaits.

August 6, 2019

 In the winter of 2018 – 2019, I began to experience occasional minor pain in my lower left abdomen. The pain would only surface in the evenings between dinnertime and bedtime. At first I was not worried; I figured it was indigestion or stress. The pain felt exactly like menstrual cramps, but only on one side, very near my left ovary. After several weeks, I began to be concerned.

   I visited my primary physician; she ordered an abdominal and transvaginal ultrasound, which showed only some fluid in my uterus. Then I saw my gynecologist, who performed a uterine biopsy and a urinalysis. Both were negative. That doctor recommended further testing to rule out anything serious “before assuming it was muscular”. I underwent a CT scan, which was negative, but the sigmoid colon image was unclear.

All of this took several months. During this time, I kept thinking, if I don’t have cancer… if I don’t have something serious… then I am fine. Then all is well. Then I can move on with a healthy new life.

   Meanwhile, I avoided all gluten and dairy products for several weeks, then reintroduced each, to see if they affected my symptoms. There was no change.

   Over these months, the pain began to move, gradually encompassing my whole abdomen at times, often accompanied by severe bloating, and occurring at various times of day rather than just in the evening. Sometimes the pain would be as severe as labor contractions.

   My GP sent me to a gastroenterologist. She asked about my diet (which is vegetarian, high fiber) and scheduled a colonoscopy, although I’d had a negative one eight months earlier. Given my family history of colon cancer and a colonoscopy finding diverticulosis and polyps three years before, and the fact that the pain had originated close to the sigmoid colon area, she wanted to rule out intestinal disease.

   The colonoscopy, thankfully, was negative.

   I finally returned to my gynecologist for a possible laparoscopy, so that she could have a look inside and see what was going on. After a discussion of this, she looked at me and said, “You could have a laparoscopy, but I think I might not find anything.” After a pause, I replied, “If it were you, what would you do?”

   “I would see a pelvic floor physical therapist,” replied the gyno.

   I stood there dumbfounded. I consider myself pretty well-informed on health issues, but I’d never heard of such a thing. “I do my Kegels…” I said cluelessly.

   She handed me a business card. “These people are the best. Don’t let your insurance company send you anywhere else.”  

   After three months and almost $1000 in physical therapy, I experienced little improvement.

   I am extremely grateful not to have been diagnosed with a life-threatening illness.

October 6, 2019 – Update

I still have bad days, times of severe bloating, abdominal cramps, and sometimes lower back pain. I’ve tried a low-FODMAP elimination diet, but it seemed to make no difference. I’m now trying CBD oil.

December 30, 2019 – Update

In the past few months, I have tried eliminating caffeine (no change). CBD oil did not make a difference. I finally had my annual gynecological checkup. I told the nurse practitioner (not the gyno who I’d seen before) that I was still having problems, and that I feel very frustrated that I have not had a diagnosis despite all the testing.

I told her that my symptoms really seem to be affected by my stress level. She launched into a long monologue all about anxiety and how anti-anxiety medication had helped her. She prescribed this medication for me (but I have not filled the script and don’t intend to – I’m concerned about side effects and also I’d prefer to explore holistic stress reduction methods before going that route). In my medical records she wrote that I have an anxiety disorder (??) and also “reactive depression”. She also recommended psychotherapy.

I had my records sent to a doctor who prescribes medical cannabis. I have three conditions which make me eligible – chronic pain, “anxiety” and glaucoma. I plan to try it.

March 30, 2020 – Update

I still have frequent abdominal pain, sometimes severe. It is very clearly triggered by stress. Over-the-counter pain relievers do nothing for it, and I do not want to take them regularly anyway. I have found only one thing that helps – a heating pad (which is impractical in certain situations such as working). I do yoga and meditate regularly. I continue to search for holistic methods of stress reduction and pain relief.

March 16, 2019

Strangely serene

I lie here in between

not-knowing and knowing

neither coming nor going

 

Peacefully awaiting

the news that keeps abating

and will it change my life

and cut me like a knife

 

Tearless eyes stare ahead

giving in to subtle dread

will you wake me from this dream

is it really what it seems

 

I don’t feel agitated

or really much frustrated

because this time could be

the last of naive me

 

The past few days and days

and days and days and days

of ordinary normal time

is it really such a crime

 

This day is the dividing line

of innocence will I pine

for my life Before and After

mingles both my tears and laughter

 

Can they really look and see

something there inside of me

growing where it shouldn’t be

leaving me too early free

 

And will I join the braver throng

of those who sing the painful song

the club to which I could belong

this idea just seems so wrong

 

Lying here in limbo thinking

try to keep my heart from sinking

can I really pass the test

and who will take me on this quest?

March 9, 2019

I used to hear the words “just breathe”, and think…OK, what does that mean? It’s silly, really…just breathe? I’m already breathing. I’m always breathing. I can’t NOT breathe, at least not for long. It sounded kind of…out there, pseudo-spiritual, to me.

I learned about yogic breathing several years ago, and found it very helpful for insomnia. Along the way I began to use breathing-focus during stressful situations. At the eye specialist, the light of a thousand suns burning into my retinas (not literally, thankfully…it just seems that way), I turn to breath and focus on: in… out… in… out… I’m lying on the beach and my breath is the ocean tide moving in… out… in… out…

Meditation used to always seem out-there to me too, like, empty your mind? Don’t think about anything? Then I’m thinking about not-thinking-about-anything. Recently I realized that when I’m not doing anything, I’m “just” breathing. No matter what – asleep, awake, sitting quietly in a chair, lying in bed, if I’m doing nothing else, I’m “just breathing”. Sounds simple, but I take it so much for granted.

Another phrase I always thought was strange was “Remember to breathe”. Huh? How could you “forget” to breathe? Isn’t it involuntary? (Mostly?) Then I had a 75-year-old piano student who would hold his breath while playing. Once he got to longer pieces, I became concerned. We’d joke about me having to do CPR on him if he fainted. (His wife was always there, so she was designated for the mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.) Finally I started writing “breathe” at several spots in his music book. Now, the phrase “remember to breathe” means something different – not actually “doing” it, but focusing on it.

Another facet of breathing is the concept of “inspiration”. Closely related to “respiration”, this is the taking-in of Spirit. Each inhalation invites life-giving Spirit to enter our souls; each exhalation allows us to let go of unnecessary burdens. Whatever our spiritual orientation, we can use this concept to accept life, love, and peace, and release toxic waste from our bodies and souls.

I know I’ll be facing some tough challenges soon. I will need to remember to focus on breath, as a tool to set my priorities – Job One is staying alive; to stay alive we need first to breathe, and later to take food, water, and shelter. When it gets right down to the very basic level, moment-by-moment, all we need is just to breathe.

 

October 1, 2018

1. Their word against mine
2. “She shouldn’t have been at that party”
3. No one will believe me
4. “What was she wearing?”
5. Fear of cross-examination
6. “She shouldn’t have been drinking“
7. Fear of retaliation by attackers
8. “Boys will be boys”
9. Family shame/embarrassment
10. “You asked for it”

Ever since the dawn of humanity, the powerful have taken advantage of the powerless. Women, children, the elderly, the poor, people of color, the disabled. But now, we are finding strength in numbers. We are finding our voices. The tide is turning. Time’s up. RESIST.

July 17, 2016

Recently I have broken away from a long-term relationship.

In the past few years, whenever we’ve been together, I’ve just felt kind of dead inside. I was not contributing much to the relationship, and was not getting much back. There was too much emphasis on appearances. Our conversations were canned…scripted. Our meals were an empty ritual. Things were old, cold, dry, stuck in the mud, and there was no changing them. We did things that way because…we’d always done them that way.

During our last few months, I’ve felt nothing. Just kind of empty. There are many good old memories, but the recent ones have been more hurtful. For the past several months, I have been preparing to break away, detaching myself. So with each meeting, I felt more and more sure.

I gave back the material possessions we had in common. I cut the ties of things we used to do together.

I feel free.

I have begun a new relationship. There, I feel fresh, new, alive. The focus is on love, peace, and joy. A much simpler relationship without so many encumbrances.

Who knows where this will go? Will we take it to the next level? Or will I eventually go back? Only time will tell.