zena musings

"I sit there thinking about how much courage it takes to live an ordinary life." ―Colum McCann

I've always been big into ceremony, ritual, celebrations, the marking of meaningful dates. I got married on June 21st—twice—to the same man. Once for the legality, once for the show. Today, six years after my divorce, somewhat suprisingly I didn't even remember this used to be my wedding anniversary until I looked at someone else's wedding photo on Facebook. Even then it took a couple minutes before it dawned on me. "Summer Solstice. Wedding. Oh yeah . . ."

Last year I wrote this. This year? No reaction. No emotion. No melancholy. Simply a historical fact.

Pretty darn cool.

What's also different is that I decided not to make a big deal out of today.

Usually my thinking goes something like this:

Hooray, it's the Summer Solstice! I should dance! Rise to the occasion! What am I going to wear? I have to dress up! I have to take extra special photos and write extra special wisdom and read + share lots of extra special writings and generally make a Very Big Deal out of this extra special day!

Jeezus. With a brain like that is it any wonder I'm exhausted? This is why I ask (beg) God to please direct my thinking, every day, repeatedly. Had I been invited to a Solstice gathering I might have attended and quietly participated. But I don't have it in me to whip up extra special. And anyway, the Divine isn't manufactured. No grand effort is required. It's simply allowed in.

So instead of getting it up spiritually, I let the Divine put me to use. I saw, heard and read things I'd rather not see, hear or read, thankyouverymuch. A K-9 officer killed in the line of duty. Driving on the highway next to a truck hauling pigs, probably to slaughter, praying as one stuffed her pink nose out an air hole. "I'm sorry, pigs. I'm sending you love." Heart fucking breaking. Sitting across the table from a veteran haunted by fears I can't begin to fathom. Locked eyes, unflinching, bearing witness. Because faith was present. Fear or faith—no other choices.

Pretty cool deal. Instead of reflecting on the past, I got to be present for today. Not today as the Summer Solstice, but today as this day.

A day, apparently, that wanted someone to pray for pigs. To pray for the struggling veteran who found God in the rooms of AA many years ago and, as he said, "She never left me." To offer hope and a hug to a woman new(ish) to the rooms of AA. We see you. We know you. We're with you. To pray for a fallen K-9's handler. To read poetry, which I cannot get enough of. To eat crappy Teriyaki chicken and terrific steamed broccoli. To play with Silas. To reach out and offer free photography services to several local organizations with K-9s. To pack + ship candle orders. To read more of Zoli by Colum McCann, a magical and haunting story about a Gypsy woman in Czechoslovakia. To say thank you. To breathe. To wish my jeans weren't so tight. To not eat sugar after yesterday's binge. To offer encouragement. To soak in wisdom. To accept. To change. To choose. To allow.

A day like any other. Not a former anniversary. Not a seasonal turning point. Just what this day asked. Simple as that.

P.S. I do wish you a Happy Solstice. I mean it.

Subverting Fear

Smack dab in my busiest time of year. If I were a CPA, today would be April 12th. The work phone is ringing. Orders need packing + shipping. Candles need pouring. Repairmen need calling. Dobies need walking. My upstairs is a hot mess. There are a hundred practical things I should be doing and writing isn't one of them. Nor is sitting in my pajamas at noon, checking FB, reading spiritual stuff or listening to Marianne Williamson. But this is precisely what my soul needs today.

Breathing room. Nourishment. Reassurance.

It is becoming less and less possible to override my spiritual needs.

For large and small business owners there's a frenzied, competitive greed at the holidays that I'm certainly not immune to. The unspoken yet tangible pressure to jump onto the spinning carousel of consumer spending and grab for all the golden rings your hands can hold. BUY MY STUFF! Wallets are open, dollars are begging to be spent and from a business point of view I should be capitalizing the living shit out of this season. I have done so in the past. I have earned a fair amount of money and I have suffered the consequences: year-end mental breakdowns, illnesses, not enjoying my own holidays.

This year I can't. I can't and I won't. This year I'm saying fuck that noise. For me, sometimes living life + owning a business is like being in a packed auditorium with nearly every person in attendance clamoring for attention. It's loud, it's overwhelming, it hurts my soul and I need (frequently) to escape.

I've struggled sending newsletters for two years. Do I need the money? Absolutely. This year has yielded my lowest earnings since I started zena moon in 2000. I don't blame the economy; it's all me -- I love my candles and my company but I'm simply tapped out and ready to move on. I truly cannot wait to hand over the reins to a new owner who will lavish her with the time, love and attention she deserves.

Meanwhile I get to practice accepting that I can't function at the higher levels I used to.

Accepting that I desperately need a break from marketing. Wanting to learn new ways to share my work in the world, which may include hiring someone else to do it for me.

Trusting that I can still earn a healthy living. Not knowing exactly how but knowing I've got skills and am worth it. Being open. Asking for + receiving help from smart, generous souls.

Believing Liz Lamoreux's reminder that "it really is okay to move at your own pace."

Reading this by Anne Lamott, which nails my experience lately:

I pray all the time, but without a deep sense of union or connection. It's like taking a survey by phone. I do it, but I mostly just want to be done. Still, you know what? I think it's okay. Some patches of time are going to be rich in communion with God, Goodness, Good Orderly Direction, even the Gift of Desperation. Other times? Not so much. As always, though, it is the right time to be exquisitely, crazily friendly to myself.

I'm going to keep doing my sort-of-faking-it prayers; my phoning it in prayers. We take the action, and the insight will follow. The insight will be how crazy and isolated I feel when my electrical cord is not plugged into the vast supply of gorgeous, hilarious, heartbreakingly profound and sweet divine supply. This lackluster phase will pass. Then, the joyously plugged in phase will, too.

Knowing (or at least suspecting pretty strongly) that my Higher Power doesn't want me to spend any more of my precious life striving/worrying/pressuring/judging/berating myself to the point of actually looking forward to death because at least then all of the striving/worrying/pressuring/judging/berating will be over and done with.

Saying that I trust my Higher Power even when I'm not sure I do.

Telling the truth, again and again and again. Laying it all on the table, every single day, with at least one other human being. Because God works in my life through other human beings and like Anne Lamott also wrote:

...which was about letting God into your worst drawers and closets, and how healing could not happen if you let God into a living room that had just been cleaned for the occasion. If you wanted healing, you had to show God the mess.

Being honest.

Being open.

Being willing.

Being grateful. Because I am, more than words could ever convey. Thank you for reading this. Thank you for your support and encouragement. Thank you for buying my candles. Thank you for being here.

Flashback 15 years: Marriage, divorce and healing

Fifteen years ago I was laying on a rose-strewn massage table. It's my wedding day. I never expected to get married. Never wanted to. But I'd fallen in the kind of love that feels permanent. For the first time I'd found someone I wanted to commit to.

Like us, our ceremony and vows were unconventional. Drums beat, sage burned. My gay boyfriends walked me down the makeshift aisle in our backyard. Our dogs carried our rings. A dear friend, an ordained Catholic nun, officiated. We promised to be together as long as it served each of our highest good. And for 10 years we were.

Our marriage ended five years ago. As separations go, it was amicable. He helped move me to Spokane. We vacationed together that summer and even spent Christmas together. Bittersweet. Even though I'm now grateful a hundred times over, letting go was an excruciating process. Everything about my life changed. My home, my community, how often I saw my dogs (we shared custody for years), my comfort zone. I was lost and fragile.

For months I couldn't even say the word divorce out loud. When the Marriage Dissolution papers arrived in the mail, I realized how insignificant -- like signatures on a marriage license -- paperwork is. That's neither where our relationship came together nor fell apart. I remember pulling them out for a friend who was spinning out over her own separation saying, "This little 1/2-inch stack of paper? That's all a divorce is. Your relationship still exists, just in a new form. Stop scaring yourself with words." Ha! Exactly what I needed to hear myself.

For a good long while I was angry, hurt and resentful, but that shit's toxic and I stayed committed to my spiritual path. No matter how I felt, I went through the motions of right action. Naturally I licked my wounds raw time and again but mostly I acted as if this was God's will for me. I practiced trust, sometimes well, sometimes crappily. Lots of f-bombs in my prayers those days. Slowly a new life unfolded. New friends. New community. New activities. New everything. Better everything.

My ex and I were estranged for a while. A tough yet absolutely necessary gift. Fire purifies. Today we're building a new friendship. Our lives are progressing exactly as they're meant to. I absolutely love the woman he now shares his life with, and their nutty Dobie.

Healing takes time and dedication. It takes willingness to be really uncomfortable (not my strong suit!) and do awkward stuff like gratitude lists, socializing and being in this moment on a continuous basis. Fortunately I'm surrounded by lots of wise women (and men) I'm willing to listen to and accept direction from. They've never steered me wrong.

Recently I was clearing out old paperwork and stumbled across my divorce papers. I don't need these, I thought. I inhaled with a new awareness and freedom. I don't need these. So I shredded them. Not with animosity or vengeance, simply with release.

The past is over.

Today I'm alive and free in ways I never dreamed possible. I absolutely LOVE my present and I'm excited beyond measure for the future.

But I went through hell to get here. The secret? I kept going.

21 truths on my heart

I'm single because I was born that way.
— Mae West

Nearly two weeks after Valentine's Day, these truths are bursting outta my heart this morning.

1. My top priority is my relationship is with myself and my Higher Power.
2. #1 requires a tremendous amount of time + attention via nurturing, listening, action and devotion.
3. I love being single. It's when I thrive and blossom and contribute my best to the world.
4. #3 is not the social norm. It's not the Libra norm. Unless you're a priest or a monk or a BYU basketball player, it's not supposed to be anyone's norm. I struggle with this. But #3 has been true all my life, so I get to trust that God knows what S/He's doing with me better than I do.
5. Love is EVERYWHERE.
6. I've been in many relationships (more than 70, less than 100) ranging from one night to 13 years.
7. Had I known a good massage therapist in my 20's, those numbers would be significantly lower.
8. Can I say I'm grateful for them all? Yes. Each person was important in his or her way.
9. As a kid, the women I wanted to grow up and be like were always independent and unconventional. Cher. Rhoda. The bohemian chick played by Melanie Mayron on thirtysomething.
10. As an adult, the women I identify with and want to be like are always independent and unconventional. Also creative, wise, spiritual, kind, active and really alive in whatever way(s) they're called to be.
11. I absolutely revel in diversity. I'd wither and die if my circle of friends wasn't rife with different ages, classes, colors, beliefs, experiences and backgrounds.
12. Since my divorce in 2007, I've dated four women. No men. I've discovered a lot about myself; some amazing, some alarming.
13. Quite possibly the most pressing truth I've discovered is that at this time in my life I have no business getting involved in romantic relationships. In practical terms they keep getting in the way of what I want to do and experience.
14. Even the most casual romantic relationship requires more time and attention than I have to offer.
15. You won't see me flipping cartwheels over #13 and #14, but they've proven true time and again. Whether I accept the truth doesn't change the truth, so today I'm practicing acceptance. "The truth does not change according to our ability to stomach it," wrote Flannery O'Connor. Indeed.
16. I accept what-is and I'm open to change.
17. I'm on fire and in love -- and I mean wholeheartedly, unabashedly, full-soul-force wild passionate LOVE -- with photography! That is what I'm meant to be doing with my time. Following those breadcrumbs is where my energy is called to go.
18. I am a fantastic doggie mama. I'd have given birth if I could birth puppies. I love my dogs with every fiber of my being.
19. Certainly hasn't always been the case, but today I'm a good daughter and a good sister. I love and value my parents and brother with all my heart, and I hope both my behavior and attitude convey that.
20. I want to be a better friend. I'm blessed to attract and know a fantastic array of kick-ass people, and I'm an introvert still learning to live outside my comfort zone.
21. I tell myself I have a hard time hurting someone's feelings who's interested in me, but wise ones assure me that the state of others' feelings isn't within Carla Blazek's superpowers. Their story and their feelings are their responsibility. People-pleasing harms everyone, including me. An old therapist once said, "If you don't tell the truth, the right thing can't happen." This, by the way, is the quote on zena moon's speak my truth candle. I should light one later.

Thanks for listening. The main reason I decided to share publicly is to help anyone else who might be feeling similarly not feel alone. That's so important -- not feeling alone. I fully realize I've just put the kibosh on any future dating possibilities and that now would be a lovely time to enter a convent. That's OK. Today I've got my dog, my camera and a good massage therapist.

Friday's Truth

To those working for the rights and health of the underdog, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I'm so grateful there are people like you who can do this. I don't pretend to know what's best for anyone individually or collectively, but when I pay attention -- intentionally or not -- to what happens in this world and how people, governments and corporations do harm, it's easy to feel despair.

Like many creatives, I wasn't born with emotional insulation, and despite being stronger and more stable than ever, sometimes my coping mechanisms are still pretty fragile. I'm extremely sensitive and simply not wired to handle shitty people, shitty behavior or shitty energy.

You will never engage me in a conversation about politics or religion. Even if we're in agreement.

If you are a local news reporter, weatherman or anchor, I have no idea who you are.

You won't find me in organized activist circles. Yet if we ever live in a time when it's necessary, you can bet my house will be part of an "underground railroad."

If you enjoy talking about government and social problems, I will do everything in my power to avoid you.

Sometimes I admonish myself, "I should pay attention to this. I should march in that. I should, I should, I should." But honestly? Every bit as harmful (to me) as cutting myself with a sharp knife. My default setting is Care Too Much.

I lived in a state of despair for a long time, and it's only in the last couple years that I've made my way to the light again. Not surprisingly I'm mama-bear fiercely protective of my peace of mind. For me, serenity isn't something nice to have, it's a matter of life or death.

So, to the bad news I heard and the awful photo I saw earlier . . . goddammit, you break my heart. And unfortunately there's nothing I can do about you. I have to turn you over to God. I have to do my best to make a difference where I can in my own life today. To smile at strangers. To extend my hand to the newcomer at the noon AA meeting. To enjoy -- ENJOY -- this day of my life as best I can.

The Real Woman Creed by Jan Phillips

I believe that within me lies an extraordinary radiance, and I commit to letting my light loose in the world.

I believe that the source of my power and wisdom is in the center of my being, and I commit to acting from this place of strength.

I believe that I possess an abundance of passion and creative potential and I commit to the expression of these gifts.

I believe that the time has come to let go of old notions and unhealthy attitudes, and I commit to re-examine what I have been told about beauty and dismiss what insults my soul.

I believe that negative thoughts and words compromise my well-being, and I commit to thinking and speaking positively about myself and others.

I believe that young women are in need of positive role models, and I commit to being an example of authenticity and self-love.

I believe in the relationship between my well-being and the well-being of the planet, and I commit to a life of mindfulness that regards all living things as holy and worthy of my love.

I believe it is my spiritual responsibility to care for my body with respect, kindness and compassion, I commit to balancing my life in such a way that my physical being is fully expressed and nurtured.

I believe that joy is an essential part of wellness, and I commit to removing obstacles to joy and creating a life that is full of exuberance.

I believe that a woman who loves herself is a powerful, passionate, attractive force, and I commit, from this day forward, to loving myself deeply and extravagantly.

(Words by Jan Phillips. Self-portrait by my beautiful friend Julie. Special thanks to my friend Mary.)

Some people are better left in the past

"For every person who might reject you if you live your
truth, there are ten others who will embrace you and welcome you home."
–Marianne Williamson

Believe it or not, I honestly can't remember if/when I've ever been personally and openly judged by a self-proclaimed conservative Christian. But I was last night, by a childhood friend no less — actually, we were best friends in grades 4-6 — who finally admitted she has a problem with my path to such an extent that she was unfriending me in Facebook. Yes, the ultimate rejection!

What brought this on was a frustrated, mean-spirited comment she left on this blog post, peppered with smiley faces, happy exclamation points and the suggestion that I stop overanalyzing life and become a Christian, meanwhile taking potshots at my spirituality. I deleted her comment, because I treat all my spaces as sacred space, and sent her a short note explaining what I did. That I read her words as unkind and unsupportive. I said I'm glad she found a path that works for her, and that I have too.

She wrote back. I didn't read her response word for word. Didn't have to. Scanning it, I caught more than enough:

I'm sorry if I hurt you.

You're constantly unhappy.

I don't think your path is working for you.

I'm a conservative Christian and I'm not comfortable with your path.

I'm unfriending you.

I'm not entirely sure what part(s) of my path cause her discomfort, but I can guess. Does it matter? Is it personal? Not for me to say. Honestly, I suspect other historical stuff is playing out here. The fact that I unfriended her in the 7th grade (for being too conservative!) and a couple other decades-old resentments she aired — peppered with smiles and laughter — when we reunited in person a couple years ago. Of course I recognized the stinging beneath the smiles, the old hurts never healed, and I apologized. I did what I could to make amends for the harm I caused her. It was sincerely nice seeing her that time, although also a little strange, her drinking and me not. An ironic twist. I suspected there wouldn't be a next time, and I was fine with that. Despite our differences, we stayed connected via Facebook and had many friendly, supportive exchanges over the years.

Here's the part where I say I know all Christians aren't like my old friend. Most of the Christians I know — Lutherans, Catholics, Protestants, whatever — most of the people I know — are amazingly loving, open, accepting and non-judgmental. Nuns and laypeople alike. I think that's why this smarts a little. It's not the who, it's the ewww. I'm not confronted with bigotry very often and it's jarring when I am. It's incomprehensible, archaic and unnecessary. It's ugly.

Do we really all have to look, believe, vote, feel, think, dress, worship and live the same, or similarly enough, for some to be comfortable?

Who knows, maybe she simply doesn't like who I am. I'm fine with that, too. Because I love who I am. Very much.

Bottom line: I'm not going to let someone's discomfort with who I am stymie, inhibit, edit or stop me from practicing the gifts God gave me. Namely, paying attention to my life. Writing about it. Photographing it. Living it. Cultivating a relationship with God, Spirit, the Creator, my private name for my Higher Power, or whatever name I choose to use. Learning to be the best Carla Blazek I can be, the one God intended me to be. Which, whether I like it or not, constantly involves letting go and moving on.

Trust Takes Practice

"Your soul knows the geography of your destiny. Your soul alone has the map of your future, therefore you can trust this indirect, oblique side of yourself. If you do, it will take you where you need to go, but more important it will teach you a kindness of rhythm in your journey."

–John O'Donohue

(Photo by rosemary*.)

Truth-Telling and Bloodletting

This morning, a one-two punch.

First, hearing news that "should" be positive, simply left me sad. News that shouldn't surprise me, nor sadden me, but it did and I don't have to figure out why. Years ago I learned to simply let my feelings be what they are. Feelings don't want my clever analysis, justification or intellectual acrobatics. They simply want the soft warmth of my lap. To be allowed. To hear the words, It's OK. I understand.

Second, inadvertently winding up on the skirts of the hate group WBC's protests and counter-protests at Gonzaga and Ferris. Several friends are counter-protesting around the area, and I applaud them. I know myself well enough to know I'm not emotionally or energetically equipped to attend counter-protests, be involved in political movements, or do much in the way of activism other than live my life openly and honestly.

Already a bit shaky, I read their hateful signs, literally using the word HATE, bringing tears to my eyes. I am bewildered. I don't understand hate. I'm proud of the people in Spokane's community who counter-protested with beautiful signs, kindness, music and peacefulness. I belly-laughed when I heard them play "You've Got to Change Your Evil Ways." I honked and waved supportively at them, the best I could do.

I knew I needed a drink from the well, so I went to an AA meeting. Relief. As always, I got what I needed and heard what I needed to hear.

Here's what I know:

This life is mine. Ultimately, it's the only thing that is.

What happens in anybody else's life is none of my business.

Others come and go. Vows or blood, nothing and no one is permanent.

Letting go is a process.

What's right for you isn't necessarily right for me, and vice versa.

Self-worth comes from within.

I want to paint my bedroom.

Some days are sadness, some days are joyful. Some days are both!

I wasn't born with much emotional insulation. I tire easily. I need plenty of mental and physical rest. This means saying no to some things I'd rather say yes to.

I am doing my best to love what is and to focus on what's ahead of me. What I love today: Garden carrots and Concord grapes from Mom. My recovery peeps. New fleece sheets. Love in the streets. Big candle orders. T minus 48 hours 'til the Gonzaga women's basketball pre-season scrimmage! Leftovers. Silas. Acceptance.

You are exactly where you're supposed to be (I am too)

 
This place where you are right now
God circled on a map for you.
Wherever your eyes and arms and heart can move
Against the earth and sky,
The Beloved has bowed there—
Our Beloved has bowed there knowing
You were coming.

–Hafiz