Terri Kowalsky July 10, 1950- July 15, 2006

Terri kept her favorite dishes on the top shelf, high out of reach, waiting for a special occasion.

Instead she used her older dishes, even though they were chipped and cracked and she stopped liking them long ago.  She used them because she thought she had to, or ought to, because to not do so would be wasteful.

A few months ago  Mom and Sheila pulled out Terri's favorites and put them in the everyday spot, because for her now every day is an occasion. She is  special and should see and use what she loves.

Don't wait.

For years Terri looked through dining room curtains she hated, given to her by someone she loathed, and still she let them hang there - because they were expensive and practical. But, they reminded her daily of some who betrayed her, and broke her heart.  Every glance at those curtains made her angry, whether she was aware of it or not.

Last fall she tore those curtains down and burned them. She went out and bought what she liked.  "It was a good day," she said. 

Don't wait.

Don't settle for "just making due" or "good enough". What surrounds us reflects who we are and what we think of ourselves.

We're all guilty of "saving" things for the right time, of hoarding or hold onto our favorite perfume or paper, or boxing the crystal away. We buy our favorite car then park it in the garage to keep it safe. We work 50 hours a week with no vacation, saving our time and money for a future that comes when we're too damn old or tired to enjoy it.

Now. Now is the time to live.  To wake up being surprised at being alive and grateful for it, like Terri did for many days she was not suppose to have.

Live now.

Live richly - but it's not about wealth.  It's doing what you love or doing what feeds your soul.   Take naps, read more, plan a date with your wife. Spend seven bucks on flowers at the grocery store just because they're pretty. Call an old friend. Light candles everyday. Forgive yourself or someone else and just let it go!

Don't wait.

Don't wait to do what you love or what makes you happy. Don't wait to find out what it is.

Today is a good day to connect to God through nature at the end of a fishing pole. Or to stare at the sky tattooed with the patterns of migrating birds in flight.

Today is a good day to dig in the soil of your garden, to reach deep into the heart of the Earth.

Today is a good day to listen to your children laugh, to impress the melody of their voice in your memory.

Don't wait.

Today is a good day to sing out loud without caring who listens, to start those lesson you always wanted, to plan that trip.

Life is not how much you got done or how clean is your house.  It's not the price of gas or worrying about the weather.

The tomorrows we expect may not be there. If you hear yourself saying "someday",  then stop. Don't wait. Today is a good day.

Terri taught me that my life is precious and not to be wasted.

I told her she is my biggest gift, because she is waking me up. I will not dishonor or discredit her pain and suffering, her death - by taking my life for granted any more.  I will not continue to ignore my health, my needs, my dreams, my hopes,  waiting for a better day. TODAY is a good day.

If you love Terri, like I know you do or you wouldn't be here - let her know that she matters by doing something good for  yourself.

Making other people happy is what she lived for really, so it can be what she died for too.   Learn from her. Do something good for yourself that will make you healthier, or stronger, or more forgiving, or more connected to people and your Spirit.

Don't wait.

I am most present when I have something in my hand - a book, a pen, a garden tool, my child's hand.

Through my hands I take in. I calm the busy energy of my body that wants to reach out and do.

I am most present when I fold my hands together, head bowed, a child on my knees praying to God or whatever that I make it through.

I am present when my hands lift to the sky and feel the sun pouring down.

I am present when I place a hand on my heart, reminding myself that I too am loved.

In the space between words, between actions, life hangs in balance for that smallest fraction of time when all things are possible - when life is no thing, and all things, at once.

In the space between wanting and doing, between wishing and receiving, life hangs waiting to be formed. Where will life fall? What choice, what intent wins out this time?

The space - large or small as we care to make it, for we are the ones holding it - is really GRACE. Open, expansive, infinite - the tie to our true nature - the God in us all.

Nature's cycles pull on me and set a rythym to my life.  The Summer Solstice is today - the longest day of the year, the shortest night - the tipping point when the light reaches its brightest point and starts to fade minute by minute into winter.

It is a long day for me. Preparing and packing for a trip to see Terri. A trip I  have waited for impatiently as I so want to see her, but dread as I know what it will bring. Wanting and not wanting, becasue seeing her again means she will probably let go. She's told her doctor and others she is wating for me to get there. She is tired and wants to die now.

She should never have seen this solstice, she was never to have even seen Spring.  But we choose to die as we choose to be born - our own time, our own place, and with those we want to learn from.  My hope is that she'll choose to go when I am there.

I'll be gone at least three weeks, with my girls in tow. I am afraid. How can I be "there" for Terri, the girls, my family and myself?  This is a true test of balance, and an opportunity to learn more about compassion.  I've always tried to "fix" or "help" - but now how do I serve?

I'll take with me  things I love -- books, scents, hugs from friends, - things that remind me of who I am now and where I draw my strength. My talismans, things to create an altar to my Self and the Source that keeps me whole.

 

 

Stay near the Earth

Look in their eyes

Let them discover, defy, and dream

Follow your dreams too.

Know that you will be turned upside down and inside out in mothering -

It is not easy

 

Meditate - find your core and wake it up to go chasing after life

with your little ones.

See home for what it is - a vessel, a sanctuary,

a place of sustenance, light, and grace.

Home is where the body and spirit embrace.

 

Notice the sky, the moon, and the sun - all the cycles of the Universe.

Notice your own, and honor them

Bring your children into the natural rhythm of life

so that they might always know their place.

 

Honor the mothers before you and the nature of their journey

Only through a mother's eyes can you come to know your own.

 

Feel more than your eyes see - trust your inner knowing.

Listen for your child's silent voice that carries in the wind.

See their thoughts. They do see yours.

Connect with the energy of all life and the flow between you and yours.

Mothers' intuition - a sacred call; a sleepless night. A warning from beyond.

 

Feed yourself as well and wisely as your child

Watch vigilantly the reflection you cast before you.

Only through a mother's eyes can you come to know yourself.

 

Take heart. They are boundless and ever changing.

They forgive more than we can believe.

Say you're sorry

Don't give up

Always try your best

God and nature have given more than we allow ourselves to receive -

You have all the answers within.

 

 

Julia Novak

©2002

Today was a good day in motherhood.  I stepped out of myself long enough to say the right things to my girls about important things.  Zoe comes by a temper naturally, and is not afraid to use it.  A luncheon conversation today with a dear friend reminded me of the perfect images to use when explaining to Zoe that she has a choice in how she feels.

"You have a lot of fire in you,  because you are a golden dragon," I said as we worked in the yard together this afternoon. " But, you are also a Pisces - you are the fish, the water, and water puts out fire.  You can choose to be the fish. You can put out the fire of the dragon when it gets to be too much."

Not an hour later, she came to ask for a special favor, and I had to say no to her request.  Her fists clenched, her voice tightened, and she started to throw a fit.  She demanded a different answer to her question, and I calmly said "no".

"I am trying to be the fish. I am trying to put out the dragon, but you're not letting me because you're not telling me what I want!" she fumed. 

We'll get there.  I was so happy she got the picture I almost caved into her request, but that would have really blown the whole thing.

Then,  Katia brings home an illustration of a poem she wrote.  Her poem was deep, and at the same time, it came from far away.  She is like that - she's my star baby. Always in her head, always in the heavens - a sweet, creative genius.

I worried for a time about what she seemed to say - there was such longing to be free, to "fade away". 

Rather than quiz her, I brought her poem and artwork to her room just before bed and sat on the floor beside her.

"I like seeing these together.  Can I tell you what I see in your picture and you tell me if I got  it right?" I asked.

"I see a girl who feels alone. She sits on an island by her self in the middle of this huge ocean - an ocean full of emotion and life.  But I see hope, because she sits right next to this big beautiful tree that keeps her grounded, even though she's all alone out here.  She looks in the sky and sees this beautiful light, a place far away that is familiar. She wants to be there, she misses it,"  I said.

She grinned and said "You got every bit of it!"

She assured me that the poem was not exactly about her, though she did remind me we all have our dark sides and that's okay (she's 10).  It just came from someplace that she can't explain, she said. 

These are the times I feel I have called their Spirits into presence and they have been heard.  I expand as a part of me gets heard too.  They can and do have a different experience of life than I did and they do not have to follow in the pain of my path as a child.  They are seen.  They are heard.  And most of all they know they are loved.

Oh, how I long to be a mover and a shaker.  I have big dreams of making my mark on the world, of helping it along. I want to write great little books that sell by the bizillions and make people beam with inspiration. I want to talk to people in such a way that they feel seen and heard as a Spirit  - especially to those who've never felt that way.

I pop onto Zaadz  wanting to share something profound, feeling obligated to show up and post something useful,. meaningful, intelligent.  Oh , how I long to be a philospher, an intellectual.  I should  be posting!

But,  I remain silent because the grandiose words I long for don''t come.  The truth is I am not meant to be making broad strokes in the world right now, if at all.  The more I reach out for the world beyond me, the more I am pulled down to the minutae of life.

I don't have the focus to philosophize.  My thoughts stray hundreds of miles away to my sister Terri who is dying slowly of breast cancer in her lungs. My heart hurts. I feel her fear and cannot breathe. 

She plans her life one week at a time. I'm beginning to do the same. I have this vision of  my life jumbled into a huge strainer. It holds back all the coarse, dense stuff I surround myself with.  It all looks unimportant now, too heavy or serious to deal with, and only a fine, soft dusting of energy - the real stuff of life -  sifts through the holes into my concsiousness, narrowing my focus - like her - taking me from earthly things to the subtle divine.

She is at the brink of letting go - though  she still walks, talks, laughs, cooks and cleans - she is tied to her body by a wisp of a thought.

And me - I am tied to my dreams for changing the world by a wisp,  but keep my feet here at home. I do not have time to write  - I have 4th grade homework to check and picture books to read.  My audience now is my 10-yr-old daughter as I listen to her tears of indecision, then tell her to drop out of her head and into her heart to hear what's right for her.  It is my Zoe talking in the dark at night as she cries about hurt feelings in Kindergarten that day because she is  only a little sister and not a big sister like her friends. She  weeps with anger, and defiantly lists her attributes, ending it all with "and my heart  holds the whole world, but the biggest part is for auntie Terri." 

In moments like that my world shifts. I witness her inner life, I hear the truth of who she is and come face to face with the result of  giving her what she needs to be more. I change the world every day that I show up and try to make the right choice for my children,  by trying to create a good environment for them to grow in. They touch me  and send me in search of my own meaning. They force me to grow.  They force my heart open more - they break it and it grows back stronger.

I am not a mover or a shaker. I am not a driven, powerful, witty, articulate, exuberant, organized, successful, and dedicated  whatever...I cannot keep up with this world I so much want to be a part of.

My work is down here in the  nitty-gritty stuff right now - the day to day dishes and laundry and girl scouts; the bills and errands. It's in the challenge of knowing that big change is coming and I must lay low to catch the wave as it comes.  It is not my time to be at the crest, but when it is, I'm sure I will ride it for all it's worth.

The sun finally came out today. The lush green of Mt. Diablo set against a perfect blue sky was surreal.  It is as if I have been slumbering these gray days. Today,  I was reminded of  this incredible poem by David Whyte - one of my favorites.

Waking

Get up from your bed,
go out from your house,
follow the path you know so well,
so well that you now see nothing
and hear nothing
unless something can cry loudly to you,
and for you it seems
even then
no cry is louder than yours
and in your own darkness
cries have gone unheard
as long as you can remember.

These are hard paths we tread
but they are green
and lined with leaf mould
and we must love their contours
as we love the body branching
with its veins and tunnels of dark earth.

I know that sometimes
your body is hard like a stone
on a path that storms break over,
embedded deeply
into that something that you think is you,
and you will not move
while the voice all around
tears the air
and fills the sky with jagged light.

But sometimes unawares
those sounds seem to descend
as if kneeling down into you
and you listen strangely caught
as the terrible voice moving closer
halts,
and in the silence
now arriving
whispers

Get up, I depend
on you utterly.
everything you need
you had
the moment before
you were born.  

~ David Whyte ~
 

My 6-yr-old Zoe has been a challenge this last week - defiant, angry, needy, and willful. I mentioned it to my friend Jodi - an incredible intuitive astrologer - and she proceeded to tell me exactly why Zoe was acting that way based on the activity of certain planets this week that directly effect her ( Mercury/Pluto/Pisces connections) - and when it would end. What a relief!

Astrology has been an incredible parenting tool for me. It helps me understand why the girls are the way they are, and Jodi gives me different ways to teachor support them, based on their charts. It gives me a different perspective into who my girls are, and shifts my attention off of what it is they are doing.

The information Jodi provides about timing is especially helpful. It lets me know when rough spots are coming, or when they need new information or experiences in order to really grow.

You can find Jodi here at Zaadz or see her website.

There was a time I had no use for my mother's ways.

It was not until I became a mother that I came to understand at least a part of her.  I was sure that having six children, the last four of which were all about two years apart, meant my mom must have been certifiably insane for many years. That then would explain much of her behavior.

I could not, and do not to this day understand how it was she managed to have a spotless house and three perfectly balanced meals on the table punctually every day. I have only two kids and a housekeeper now and then,  and I still can't do it!

 I saw for many years a woman tied to home and family, in a loveless marriage, unfulfilled and consumed by drudgery of house and home.  I saw an unconscious woman with no concept of her own wants, passions, or basic needs.  I saw a woman trapped by children and a 9^th grade education but blessed with a great wit and sharp mind. I did not understand her.

Now I find myself unconciously mimicking her. My voice and ways echo her more than I like to admit.  But I do like to practice my favorite of her ways -  what I call "Aggie therapy". 

When we misbehaved,  Mom would send us outside with a bucket to pull weeds from the long white rock driveway as punishment. The number of bucketfuls required depended upon the level of the crime.  It was often hot and sticky work, but it grew something in me. 

Now, in pensive times I find myself drawn to mundane and repetitive jobs - scrubbing floors, or pulling weeds. I move slowly -  quieting my mind, pulling thoughts together, or releasing my fears and anger through my hands into my chore. It is grounding work. 

She always says it is good for the soul to see an accomplishment, no matter how small.  To take a piece of the world over which we have control and shape it to suit us puts purpose back into life.  This is "Aggie therapy". An hour of Aggie therapy and I feel well again.  And the best part is that it's free!

Someone once told me to pray for my mother's dreams - though 73 and seemingly past her dreams, I still do pray for them. She has come to a place in her own life of reconciling her role as a mother and wife and realized that her passion - to educate her self and children -  has in fact been fulfilled. She has never been without a child in her home. When her kids were gone, grandchildren stepped in to fill the void.

Along the way she has grown with them through the decades, experiencing the change in public education since the early 60's.  She is an amazing woman - who works hard every day and loves physical work. She is the grandmother who sits on the floor with my two little ones playing ball, coloring, or dressing dolls. She is the one who concocts elaborate schemes with them, draws on the white board, or reads them books. She has all the time in the world for them, even though she did not have for me long ago.  Somehow, it heals me to see her with them. And I understand.



J Novak  
2004