Hotel California

That song scares the crap out of me. Which is one of the reasons I have it on my playlist but with the prophet singing it. When I was little I would hide whenever I heard it. I felt as though demons were coming out of the song and coming to get me. As I got older I figured out that the song was about drug addiction. It made perfect sense then. My father was an addict as were ALL his friends, which is not unusual. I remember watching them all go in and out of recovery. And when most of them came out for good they had AIDS, thanks 80's. From 1985-1991, I was to attend more funerals than probably I would attend in my entire left. Friends just kept leaving. But there wasn't the same kind of love and recognition for these friends outside of their little family. The most sympathy went to hemophiliacs or those unfortunate to get tainted blood during a blood transfusion. The next were gay people or women who caught it from a gay man on the down low. Honestly gay men did not get a lot of support outside their community either. But if felt like the bottom of the barrel were those who had drug addictions. These people were just deviants. And they somehow deserved to suffer and to die.
I remember working as a candy striper at Mount Vernon hospital during the 80's. I worked on the oncology and geriatrics floor. And I remember one patient clearly who was on the geriatric floor. He had all kinds of health signage on his door. Where a face mask, wear latex gloves, wear full frontal paper gear, wear feet protectors. This was obviously before the hazmat suit because I am sure I would be decked out in that too, just to bring this man his lunch! Turns out he was a Catholic priest all of 40 years old. On the geriatric floor because he had AIDS. Didn't ask him how he got it - which was usually the first question when you told someone, or most likely it was found out, that you had AIDS. I didn't care. I wanted to know if anyone came to see him. No one. His parishonors were told that he had been transferred. The other priests didn't come to visit him or to pray for him. I visited him every day I worked there. And I would read to him (funnily enough not from the Bible). He would ask me about school and my family and what I did for fun. And I would ask him why he chose to be a priest. And why no one came to visit him. And then one day I came to see him carrying a copy of Plato's Republic, because I felt he should have to sit through it too since I was reading it for the third time at this point. And he was gone. The bed had been stripped. All the warning labels had been removed and the room smelled like that disgusting hospital sanitizer and bleach. I knew where he was. So, I asked the head nurse on the floor when his funeral was and she said she didn't know if he was having one. I checked the paper for his obituary - nothing. I went down to the morgue and asked what mortuary he had been sent to. And they told me he would be not be embalmed because few funeral directors would agree to do that. And they didn't know where he was buried he was picked up by the county. No mass. No last rights. No respect. I had a hard time with G-d after that but an even harder time with His emissaries. How could a person's life be given so little value? Back to Hotel California.
That song continues to haunt me because I think of addiction and how prevalent it is - and how easy it would be for me to become one - after all I have strong genes in that area. And to never escape. To constantly be at the mercy of a part of your brain that needs and you can only overcome the need through will. And I think about that last line - "You can check out any time you want but you can never leave." This idea of addiction is part of my previous post about mental illness. There is a certain cruelty to being trapped by your mind or your chemical make-up or your genetic make-up. And yea, I know you can overcome just about anything, but somethings feel like an uphill battle, a true war. Doesn't mean we don't do it - everyday. But like the priest buried alone with no mourners - it feels unfair. It is unfair. And it is also life.

When you want to do the right thing

Have you ever - and be honest here - done something that you really want to do even though it might not be the best thing for you? When you aren't thinking with your head - as a matter of fact all reason has gone out the window and your heart is answering all your phone calls;and responding to your emails and sending your text messages. And you keep trying to get your rational mind back in charge of things. You will it to take control but it doesn't happen. You sit and meditate and make pros and cons lists and your heart keeps winning. Is it okay then to walk that road?

I think sometimes it is right to walk the road your heart has laid out for you. Because you can rationallize anything. Really you can. And when you think about what it is you want and where it is you want to be - life can be be fun and exciting and different all at the same time. But there is something about being a "grown up." And when you are trying to be a grown up you have to think about what is best for you. What gives you the best outlook and the best results and makes you look the most responsible. But maybe that is not where you are supposed to be. I believe that G-d kissed the place I am in my life right now. I believe that. But I often feel as though I am fighting with what G-d might actually want for me. Thinking that I know better and that I am rational in this moment, when what the moment really calls for is my for my heart to be open, that I am going to get the best result. Not true, no way no how.
I have a choice to make. And it is a choice I have been avoiding for quite sometime feeling that once I made the first choice there was no going back. There was no place to rest and no place to hide. I made that choice and I cannot, under any circumstances, change my mind. But that is not true. By virtue of my femaleness, to be base, and by my humanness to be broad, I can always change my mind. Always. And right now I am at the point when I want to flip a coin and let it decide for me. And then see if I keep doing best of out of three or best out of five if I don't get the answer I want. Ha ha. That will tell me the truth.
But for the time being I am going to wait until Mercury is out of retrograde and then make my decision. Make my decision based on where my heart and my head stands. I am sure I can get them to compromise with each other. We shall see....

Where you are right now

The 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 the sky,
the beloved has bowed there-
...
The beloved has bowed there knowing
You were coming…

~Hafiz

March is Ovah! I am so happy. Mercury is in retrograde and for some reason it is not causing me as much agita as it has in the past. Probably because I was ready for it. But this March has been better than any in a long time. It is usually my most depressed month where I reflect on my life, my losses, and lament the fact that its time for my yearly ct scan. Even though I am quite convinced that cancer is never coming back, that appointment still causes fear because - what if? This year I decided to live without the what if. I decided to honor the words of Hafiz (and some have attributed it to Rumi)to bow in the place that Grace has chosen for me. What I love about this particular translation of Hafiz is when it says "The beloved has bowed there knowing you were coming..." My name is Keisha and there have been many interpretations of what it means and where it comes from. It's Arabic, it's Hebrew, it's African - but they cannot locate one particular part of Africa. But the meanings are often very close meaning favorite or my personal choice - beloved.

I think about that section of the poem how the Beloved bowed where I am. I bowed where I am and chose this path. Everything I have done in my life prior to this breath was my choice. And Grace kissed my journey every step of the way. I can then take full ownership over my life. The wonderful and the challenging. I have often heard people say that they would not change a thing in their life because it would alter the place where they stand right now. I completely agree. While some parts of my life have been hard and painful I would not change them. And moreover, I made a choice to live it. I bowed and kissed every step of this path.

There are two folk stories that I love. One is an Islamic on and the other Jewish.
I cannot account for the truth of either of these stories just that they were each told to me by a Muslim and a Jewish person, respectfully. The Islamic story is that in the womb the baby is shown their entire life. The ups and downs the triumphs and pitfalls and they are asked if they chose their life. If they do they come forward into light and if they do not - their life ends with their no. There is a similar story in Judaism where there are a finite number of Jewish souls and before they are released from Heaven to come and be born of a woman they are shown their entire life. They are not given the choice to live or not. And right before their spirit falls to take its place in their mother's womb an angel of the Lord places his finger over the spirit's top lip and says "shhh, don't tell what you know." That accounts for the indentation in all of our upper lips. A reminder that we came from greatness and we choose to be here. But moreoever that we know perfection exists and our life is a journey to remember those two or three great images in whose presence our hearts first opened - Camus. Perhaps they were the images of an angel, or of our 10th birthday, or of our death. Who knows. But our being here is no accident. Either we chose or the Beloved chose for us, either way it is now up to us to make it the best ride ever. Every day. Even when it's hard.
March is over. Let the Spring begin.

And You Shall Be Love

I have to come back to the previous post and work out some of my faulty logic. But before I do that, I have been thinking a lot about love. Such a beautiful thing - word, right? We all want it and we seek it and we acquire it and we lose it and some keep it. Valentine's Day, wedding anniversaries, babies being born, marriages. All of these events signify the love relationship. This year I got a lot of "Happy Valentine's Day" messages. I wasn't quite sure what to do with all of them. What does that mean that you want me to have a happy Monday? Or you want me to eat some chocolate? Or you want me to feel loved today? I particularly like the last one. So, yes I will feel loved today. Mind if I keep it for the coming days as well?

March is three days away. March 3rd will be the 20th anniversary of my father's death. And I never forget that day. I never forget where I was when I found out and how it sort of rolled over my and spilled down my back like the first moments in the shower or under a waterfall, should you be so lucky to stand beneath a waterfall! Now at the 20 year anniversary it is particularly difficult to see the day approach. Time should heal all wounds and make things easier to bare. But for me it just gets harder. Because I tend to think of all that was missed in the 20 years. Having my father walk me down the aisle (or through the hotel room to the terrace) on my wedding day. Being present when my children were born. Teaching my boys about football and baseball and telling them jokes and holding them on his knee and giving them pats, because: "Pats are very important." And I try not to live in regret or missed opportunity, especially with things I could not/can not prevent like death. But March is the month that I allow myself to wallow and to "harrow my own personal hell." It makes Aprils' showers a welcome baptism. Just like Jesus!

A few months ago I was diagnosed with ADHD. Now I know for a lot of people that is not a "real" thing. And as I went through school and succeeded in various ways I realized that not being able to concentrate, or prioritize or complete a simple task, was a character flaw. It could not possibly be something amiss with my brains firings. And it became a thing that caused me so much shame. I did not feel smart. So I must not be smart. And despite having a rather extreme form of ADHD I did manage to have some successes in school, partly because I had to develop my verbal and social skills to combat my inability to parse mental activities. The one place I did well was in theatre, as a director. I had stage managers, designers and assistants to help me with the details of a project so all I had to do was deal with the forest, leaving them the trees. And I loved my designers and stage managers who could pull what I couldn't say out of my quagmire of a brain. And yet, Grace would appear, often just long enough to give me a glimpse of how to fix something making the work okay. But my early work often lacked resolution or clarity at the end. And the end is the hardest part of creating a strong piece of theatre. So even there I was receiving the same critique over and over again - your piece has no ending Keisha. What do you want the audience to leave with? I couldn't make it to that point. And I didn't know how to fix it. I didn't know how to fix me. I also don't end relationships very well. I get tired of the tedium of dotting i's and crossing t's. And I just let things go and end however they will. Often not being able to do the rigorous work of making love last and of ending it with good feelings intact. So I stand eternally grateful to those who have loved me enough to stick around even when it was quite obvious that I had gone off the deep end a few times! And yes, I can laugh about it now!

Can I blame ADHD for this. Well, in a way and then again not at all. But what I can say is that I am angry. Angry at the amount of time it took this diagnosis to come to the fore. Angry at each and every teacher who didn't try to help me get through this challenge but rather wrote me off as not being that smart. And pissed as all hell at my parents for not expecting better from me after a time. And for settling on where I had gotten to and not on where they truly knew I should be. I never settled in a place. I always have berated myself for not doing better and not being more. I felt it in me - that I had never achieved and surpassed my potential. And I am made at myself for that. And now that I know that indeed there is something amiss with my brain firings, and that it can be helped, I want to jump ahead and start achieving all the things I have always wanted. But I am stuck in regret. Stuck in it deep. And I am pissed off. Wow, I am probably the angriest I have ever been in my life.

And I am discovering that anger is a useful emotion if it pushes us to work through it and get to a better place. And so this coming month of March when I am usually all sad for all the things I have lost I am instead going to focus on all that I have missed. All the ways I wanted my life to be but it wasn't. All of the moments I wanted to have but I didn't. And all of the things I wanted to accomplished by haven't. I am giving this month to myself as a gift. Time to work through my anger and my hate and my out and out fear.

So what do I regret? Missing the time with my father. Missing being able to truly engage in my studies. Missing being the academic scholar and world-shaker I always felt called to be. Missing living a BIG LIFE, instead of the smaller one I resigned myself to. Missing giving my children the home and the life and the love they so deserve. Missing the organization and the rigeur that would give me a sense of accomplishment. Missing my Tony, Emmy, Grammy, and Academy Awards. Being as completely unreasonable about how my life may have actually been. And then on March 31st, I will say good-bye to all my regrets in some kind of ceremony. And on April 1st I will await the rain to wash the remnants of my past of self- hate and recriminations good-bye.

I started this post talking about love and my father. And I end it thinking again about love and my father. My father lived his short life with many many regrets. And I know it was because he was trapped in the circumstances of his birth and the limitations of his mind and I feel that pain right now. My father was 44 when he died. I will be 40 this summer. And I refuse to enter that decade with the same recriminations my father died with. This is an opportunity to get off that particular wheel of life. To end the negative karma. So that my love and gratitude and completion is the gift I give future generations - it is my good karma passed on to my children and their children and....

Kahlil Ghibran wrote this:


* When love beckons to you, follow him,
Though his ways are hard and steep.
And when his wings enfold you yield to him,
Though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you.
And when he speaks to you believe in him,
Though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.

For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you.
Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.
p. 11
All these things shall love do unto you
that you may know the secrets of your heart,
and in that knowledge become a fragment of Life's heart.
But if in your fear you would seek only
love's peace and love's pleasure,
Then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love's threshing floor,
Into the seasonless world where you
shall laugh, but not all of your laughter,
and weep, but not all of your tears...For love is sufficient unto love.
And think not you can direct the course of love, for love, if it finds you worthy, directs your course. Love has no other desire but to fulfill itself.
But if you love and must needs have desires, let these be your desires:
To melt and be like a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love;
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving;
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love's ecstasy; to return home at eventide with gratitude;
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon your lips.

And I shall be love


in peace,
keisha

Photo Credit: Flickr best pictures of 2010

All You Need Is Love?

Nice sentiment Beatles (and why am I quoting the Beatles so much? I think it's from living around the corner from John Lennon's apartment building!)
Today is Valentine's Day. I am not bitter at all - for the first time in probably my entire life! I have always tended to pick low maintenance partners so these holidays would come around, anniversaries would peak their heads and birthdays would come and go and I would be on the shallow end of the gift receiving pool. When I was younger I would often go out of my way to make Valentine's Day a big event. But no longer.
My friend Sherri had a great status update the other day that basically she was happy that Valentine's Day was coming. She, like so many of us, is in love with love. Can't argue with that!

There was a time when I would see all the facebook status updates dripping with love-laced honey and be angry and bitter. But today when I logged on I saw happy couples who have been together for years, and happy couples who had just gotten together ready to spend the rest of their lives that way. And I saw love of self and love of child and love of parents. Beautiful stuff. Because being bitter at another's happiness says nothing about them but rather volumes about you! And I am no longer bitter about my status in the world of love. I am rather happy with the fact that I have so much of it and in so many different ways!

One of the best things I ever did was pick Ilya as a father for the kids! He helped them make the best Valentine's this past weekend. Simple, yet, creative! They came home on Saturday so excited to share the fruits of their labor with me. And I even got a couple of Valentines myself from them. My favorite, not to pick favorites, was the one from Buddha. It was a heart that his sister had obviously cut out for him (it was symmetric) but the message written on it was purely his own - dictated to his sister's elegant hand. It said: "Happy Valentine's Day Mommy. You are beautiful!" I could hear exactly how he must have said it to his sister. Zachary's slight speech impediment makes "beautiful" sound like "bootiful." I heard it in my head and smiled as I read the folded heart.

I get grouchy sometimes and frustrated with all that is in my world. But I took that heart and put it in my wallet - which is usually always with me. So, if I need to be reminded of the love of today, I can take it out and see it up close. Yes, Valentine's Day is a contrived holiday created by the card, flower, and chocolate industries. We all know that. But it can be more than that. It can be an opportunity to remark not just on the amount of love you receive but on the quality of the love you receive. And to cherish that and hold it tight.

Happy Valentine's Day tribe!

in peace,
Keisha

Can I Get a Window Seat?

In the midst of all the controversy about Erykah Badu's video for the Window Seat, from her last album (that's right I said album!), the lyrics of this song got completely lost. This song is my freaking anthem.

When Ilya and I first split I called a friend to tell her about the pain I was feeling and her immediate response was to berate me for needing "attention." And to basically, without the benefit of knowing me or my marriage that well, tell me that the break was my fault. Because I wanted too much attention. Oh yes. In the middle of my tears, I stopped and really listened to what was being said and I apologized. WTF? I apologized to this person taking me in the weakest moment of my life and knocking my down.

That moment came back to me recently when I was responding to a friend on Facebook. She asked her friends to write how they met her. I borrowed the same status a few days later. But I wrote to her: "I met you during Freshman Orientation at Lawrence when you asked for a standing ovation!" We had the usual orientation company come in to do icebreakers and team building activities. But the hallmark of this particular group was having people ask for "standing ovations" at any point in the sessions that they felt they needed one and we would all stand up and give them a standing ovation. My friend Summer did the same thing at our IIN graduation - go Summer!

And I realized something. This friend was asking me to get small in my pain. To not own that I was hurt and that I needed attention and it was fine to ask for it. I, by virtue of my place on the planet, deserve it. As women, we cannot ask each other to get small. Never. If anything we need to hold each other up and ask us to grow and get bigger and stronger. And we should aid each other in that growth. And if you can't do that then for G-d's sake be quiet!

The last two weeks I have been sick. It was a real physical illness that caused weakness, vomiting and all over body aches, caused by my mind presenting its pain somatically. I am good for that. I have been known to lose my voice, literally, when I am not expressing the things in my heart that must be said. So the complete collapse of me this past week was really linked to an incredible mental tiredness. My mind trying to keep all the balls up in the air and make it look effortless. I did what I thought I was supposed to. I got small and didn't ask for my standing ovation. After all I must have brought all this pain on myself through poor life choices. And I, for some reason, put on Erykah. I had been listening to Bag Lady and thinking about all the bags I was carrying around with me and my intense desire to drop those suckers off at the nearest goodwill. Perhaps someone else could use my self-doubt, anger, frustration, fear and loathing. Something sent me to New Amerykah Part II and Window Seat. And these lyrics hit me so truthfully -

So, presently i’m standing
Here right now
You’re so demanding
Tell me what u want from me
Concluding
Concentrating on my music , lover , and my babies
Makes me wanna ask the lady for a ticket outta town…
So can I get a window seat
Don’t want nobody next to me
I just want a ticket outta town
A look around
And a safe touch down

If anybody speak to Scotty
tell him beam me up!

Yes, I need that window seat. But she went on to say this:


But I need u to want me
Need you to miss me
I need your attention
I need you next me
I need someone to clap for me
I need your direction

But I need you to miss me
Need somebody come get me
Need your attention
Need your energy yes I do
Need someone to clap for me
Need your affection
Somebody say come back
Come back baby come back
I want u to need me

But can I get a window seat
Don’t want nobody next to me
I just want a ticket outta town
A look around
And a safe touch down…
I just need a chance to fly
A chance to cry
And a long
Bye bye..

Those needs are very real. And wanting that and searching for it - nothing wrong with it. Understanding, of course, that ultimately all of that love has to come from self. And sometimes, much like your kids, you just want someone to hold you and tell you it's gonna be okay. You know it probably won't fix anything but it will make you feel better in that moment when your heart is breaking. And you may be able to get up and keep it moving a little longer. That is the work of those who are in love with you - and remember for me that means anyone you are in a love relationship with. And we mothers, need that same love, since we give it all day long. And I can take care of my babies and my life and my work and still want/need that love and support. It does not make me weak or self-interested. It makes me a strong woman who asks for that which she cannot provide for herself. We don't have to be strong every second of every day. Sometimes we need a safe, soft place to fall.

So, I am going to get that window seat and go for my safe touchdown but I will be back asking for my standing ovation.

in peace tribe
keisha

Cherish, the moment

Some of you know my almost obsessive love of all things Anna Deavere Smith. Last year her new play, "Let Me Down Easy" about the health care system and the power and resilience of the body, had it's longest run in NYC. I saw it three times. It is now at Arena Stage in D.C. and I am waffling about taking the Acela down there to see it again. Anna, like I know her, right, takes the words of people she interviews and re-creates them word for word onstage. Check her out here and here if you are not familiar, but you're my friend, so how could you NOT be familiar, right?!

Toward the end of the play "Let Me Down Easy" Anna portrays Rev. Peter Gomes, American preacher and Professor at Harvard's Divinity school. He speaks about being present in the moment when someone dies. And he advises us, his listeners, to "Cherish, the moment." I've heard Anna remark on this comment on Bill Moyers, that cherishing the moment may be a rather difficult thing for us to do in the moment of grief. We are not able to step outside ourselves and see this person's passing to another realm, or simply into eternal unconsciousness, as something we can cherish. Webster defines cherish as:
a : to hold dear : feel or show affection for
b : to keep or cultivate with care and affection : nurture
: to entertain or harbor in the mind deeply and resolutely .

I love the progression of time in this definition. We first hold the moment dear, we show and feel affection for it. Over time we keep it and cultivate it with care and affection until it is harbored deeply and resolutely in our mind. It is a part of us. The seamless tapestry that makes us who we are.


My life is a series of cherished moments. That is how I define myself and that is how I will remember myself at the moment of my passing. Moments. Snippets of film from the story of the life of Keisha. The ones that show up are the ones that I have held onto for my entire life. The moments I cherish. So when I stand in this moment and look back over my life, why is it that there are less than wonderful moments that show up? Do I cherish those too? Do I cherish loss and disease and death? Do I cherish betrayal and cruelty and violence? Do I cherish hatred and pain? I must because I have held them close to me and have harbored them deeply and resolutely in my mind. I have fed them a steady diet of attention so that they stay buried in there with the wonder. And I will not deny that those moments of despair have also molded me into the woman I am today. Either by getting through them and triumphing or reminding me that I still have work to do. But I no longer feel the need to "cherish" these moments, rather examine them.

Wouldn't it be lovely if we could click on bad memories and bad feelings and drag them into the trash? Yes, Steve Jobs get on that! And I am trying to make peace with those feelings. To sit with them and "feel the feelings." To stay in the uncomfortable. And you know what? It actually works. For years, I have made fun of psycho-babble. And I cannot speak for other directives, but this one, sitting with the bad, works. I had a moment that I was holding onto tightly. Because letting it go would mean letting the person go. And I wasn't ready to do that. So, no matter how painful the memories, I held on tightly, like my life depended on it. And it did, because it kept me in a state of anger and frustration. I cherished that moment. And it became more than I could hold onto. So, I sat. I let whatever feelings I had about it come and go. I cried and hit things. But I kept sitting. This took quite some time. In between I cooked, slept, took care of the kids, did laundry. But always made sure to come back and sit with this moment. And to not runaway from the feelings that came up or the way it made me feel in that moment. And I sat and sat and sat. And then the other day I no longer needed to sit. I thought of the moment and I was calm. It was just another moment in my personal history and definitely not one I would be seeing at the moment of my death.

Completely incredulous that this worked! And seeing the results has turned me into some kind of crazy-door-knocking-prosleytizer for sitting with the bad. And the moment no longer holds anger and frustration for me. I can see it as something that helped me grow and fight harder for my life.

I can still see and hear Anna in my head saying this line. I wish I could give you an audio version, right now but check out the Bill Moyers interview I linked above and you will see what I mean. The emphasis is on Cherish. To hold it dear, to nurture it and then harbor it deep within you. And even the painful moments can be turned into something useful, for why would we remember them if they weren't? Some things we remember and others slip away as if they never happened. I tend to think that if it stays with me, with all that is in my head, then it has some significance and I cannot just pretend it doesn't exist. It stayed to teach me some lesson.

Our lives are a series of moments. Some good, some bad, some - no emotional attachment whatsoever. But if it lives with you then cherish each and every one of them.

in peace tribe and may you be well
keisha

Photo Credit:The Faster Times.com
Anna Deavere Smith as the Rev. Peter Gomes in "Let Me Down Easy."