Mauro Friday May 18, 2012

As promised I have some great pictures of the Festa dei Ceri this year. But first, because it is our anniversary, I thought I’d start with a photo from our wedding.

Well, really I have two anniversaries. First, Mauro and I have been married for 16 years. Second, I’m going to the Plastic Surgery Ward today for my one year check-up. On this day last year, I had my last operation.

And here are some shots from La Festa dei Ceri. These photos were taken from one of the most difficult sections of the day’s races. The Ceri have to come up a very steep and narrow incline, where carrier substitutions are more difficult. The strain is evident by the time they get to the top.

There will be more shots to come.

The doctors, today, are going to ask me why I haven’t completed the cosmetic surgery of tattooing a nipple form onto my right breast. I’ll have to say there’s no reason at all, I just don’t feel like going into the hospital again. I’ll reconsider the possibility in another year or two. But now that I have a chance to discuss the procedure, maybe I should ask them if I can request a butterfly be tattooed onto the middle of my right breast instead of a dark round circle. Now THAT would be cool!

Grace Notes May 17, 2012

Mauro and Federico returned from Gubbio last night. All is well. (You’ll see some of the incredible pictures from the Festa dei Ceri tomorrow for Mauro Friday). I had a very quiet time at home alone with Gilbert these past four days, and was all ready this morning to write about trust entering my life. What a peaceful raft trust is for me to lie upon. I had no idea – to be with a person or away and feel the same love. THIS has been a long time in coming.
But some other thoughts have come in with the tide and I want to describe them before the waves push them out again.

Let’s see, where do I begin. I noticed this week, just about everywhere I turned, there was a closed door – nothing dramatic but all paths were saying “no.” I can usually get my morale back up with a big long meditation and an extra long walk. But this time the melancholy clutched my throat. Something was saying “Stay Out.” All I saw was rejection. With the extra time and space alone at home, I could sit in the muddle without getting anxious. I wasn’t panicked; I didn’t feel in danger or like bad news was arriving. It was just a flat out overwhelming refusal of some kind.

I finally sat down to reflect on the inner happenings. “BOOM!” There was the king, doubled over in pain, wailing at the top of his lungs. He CRIED out to me for help, an enormous howl of pain. I saw destruction all around him, so much suffering caused at his hand, so much useless pain and anguish. I knew the king had done this but I didn’t know why. All I knew is that the king would not take any form of disrespect or refusal of complete loyalty and allegiance. Anything was reason to kill, even the split moment doubts he saw in his subjects’ eyes. He slaughtered everything and everyone. His name and role were to be honoured and he stopped at nothing.

The king is a presence I see every once in awhile in my thoughts. He is big in every sense of the word. He wears big heavy clothing. He roars when he talks. He commands attention. He directs everything in his wake. I can easily identify with him in that I can be so straightforward, I actually scare people with my manner and words. Literally I have seen my counterpart try to shield themselves from my approach, even if I’m about to tell a joke or something. I roar without even knowing it.

I always chalked this dynamic in me up to a decisive personality. I have spent so much time alone and made so many choices against the grain, I almost expect to be apart from the crowd. I can distance myself with a simple “hello.” If you want to see something funny, watch me try to be subtle. I come off as a one man band with symbols clashing at the knees, and still pretend to be silent.

I don’t consider myself clairvoyant or clairaudient. I don’t get weird vibes when I walk into a room and preview the future. I am only an observer who is learning to pay attention, that’s all, especially and particularly of myself. I watch my reactions, my thoughts, my perceptions, my desires, my anxieties, my ideas with immense interest, often putting it under a microscope to look more closely. And in this spectator role, I often see the king. And when I do get a glimpse of him, there are always unfortunate events around him and I know he is the perpetrator. “You will not refuse me,” I hear him shout. “You will not disrespect me,“ as he slaughters on. With the king, I always catch a glimpse of someone….that I know he has tormented and put to death with no second thoughts. Misery is all around him. All is dead. It’s a mega split second experience, nothing that would change my day or even my moment. There’s no remorse, no emotion, no judgement of any kind. But it’s not at all infrequent. The only way I can explain my reaction is, “Oh yeah, he’s another one the king put to death.”

Now, the king was doubled over in pain, with his head in my lap. He wept for what he had done. And he asked me for my forgiveness.

I was so surprised at this scene, I did nothing but stay quiet. I held his face to my torso and let the endless sorrow scream into the ethers. I didn’t care if this image reflected a past life or a piece of my personality. It was so present and so full of emotion, there was nothing to do but watch. I knew, deep down, he was I and I was he. I can see him in the roar of my voice and the command of my charisma.

It was time to go pick up Gilbert from school. So I kept the king with me in my thoughts and let him cry. I sat quietly during Gilbert’s music lesson and then dropped Gil off at soccer. As I was driving back home, I turned on the radio. Aretha Franklin was playing: “R E S P E C T, Find out what it means to me, R E S P E C T just a, just a, just a, just a.” I smiled and the asked the king to dance. He had such heavy robes but was delighted by my invitation. We twirled and acted goofy, giggled and enjoyed the beat, pretending to do the tango and the some swing.

I found myself beaming, not knowing who this character really was or what he was doing in my psyche. All I wanted to do was accept the king, and yes, forgive him. The evening passed quickly. By the time I sat down for my evening meditation, I was ready for a dialogue of some kind with my friend the king. But he had shrunk in size and was now so small he fit in the palm of my hand. I lifted him up to talk, placing him on my chest. But instead of saying anything, he disappeared into my heart and was no more.

I think it would have been fun to talk with the king about rejection. I could have told him that I am the only one who can reject myself; it is no use killing off another to avoid rejection.

Now, let’s see, what was the problem about “stay out” signs yesterday. I literally can’t remember who was refusing who and why. All I know is that trust is in my life. And that I’m floating in peace.

Grace Notes May 16, 2012

I was using Philosophy for Kids to teach an adult English discussion class last night. I selected a topic I had already discussed with Federico, called “Does Studying Make You Happy.” It’s a subject I’ve touched on in an earlier blog regarding John Stuart Mills and Utilitarianism. This chapter goes through activities that may or may not seem fun ranging from sitting in a dentist’s chair to eating sweets. It makes the point that visits to the dentist or studying may not be fun but help us be healthy and realize our potential which are elements to happiness. It boils down to this: having fun and being happy are not necessarily related.

What struck me last night was the definition of Utilitarianism: the greatest happiness for the greatest number of people. It’s interesting that a topic as intimate as happiness would be intertwined with others. You could be happy as the rich fat king at the top of the hill, but if everyone else were miserable, would you be happy?

It’s a subject that reflects my mood these days. Relationships that have gone belly up in my life weigh on me. I know. I know. I know. I know that these friends are only reflecting a part of myself yet to be accepted into love. My true connection with others is a place I can choose to be or not be, our entirety together, our One experience together, our Oneness. But I still get caught in a whirlwind of questions, hypothetical answers, insecurities, second guessing with “what happened?, why did she do that?, blah, blah, blah.”

Coming back, coming back to center, seeing the whirlwind from Oneness is seeing it from a place of quiet and just observing. Here I have Love. Here I have all the relationships I could imagine. Here I embrace all.

Happiness doesn’t necessarily mean having fun with pals. Their happiness is as important, and if they ask me to step out of their life, by a direct request or by stopping to communicate, it is for me to accept them and feel our mutual happiness in Oneness.

Now, it’s time to finish my book, my heart’s desire, and a place where I am very happy indeed.

Grace Notes May 15, 2012

Look what Mauro and Federico are doing today.

It’s the Festa dei Ceri in Gubbio and they are busy carrying their patron saint, St. Ubaldo.  (in yellow shirts) It’s almost an annual appointment for Mauro. Unfortunately he has been absent the last two years because of my breast cancer surgery and reconstruction. But it’s now May/12 and as Mauro says, “No more tit surgery”!

He was off on Sunday with Federico, ready to give his son all the pre-festival discussion to get him ready for today. Federico is now almost as tall as his father so he’ll be a formidable participant as a cero carrier. (When I talked with Fedy the other day on the phone and asked “How are you.” He responded by saying “Dad really has a lot to tell me!”)

This is also a special week because it marks my 16th wedding anniversary with Mauro. Here is a photo of me watching for Mauro during the Festa in 1996, 3 days before I was married.

(A big hug to Judi and Larry who took this last set of photos)

Happy Festa dei Ceri everyone. Love E

Grace Notes May 14, 2012

What a weekend. I decided to throw out the name I’ve been using to refer to my new book, at the suggestion of one of the friends I met at the Bavarian retreat. And, in reviewing how I’d like to call the new book, I feel like I’ve been through lifetimes of experiences.

I remember at the beginning when I was involved in the first version of my current manuscript, the book was a combination of personal narrative, meditations, recipes, etc. There were so many topics I tried to cover. And I remember discussing with the publisher how I will I promote the book. To spiritual groups? To lifestyle groups? Travelling groups? Nothing seemed to hit the target. The subject matter in the current book is narrowed quite a bit. I have eliminated the meditations and the recipes are now a few selected ones  placed together as an addendum at the end of the book. Now, there’s a fun intro to each chapter using an Italian word, then personal narrative in the form of flash backs, and then a line or two at the end to “sum up” the experience described in the chapter. It’s basically one story line, with lots of ups and downs. I’m sure the decision for a title is still a work in progress, but the process has got me captivated.

My Journey to A PLACE OF GRACE

Ciao Amore, An Adventure

Ciao Amore, My Journey to an Inevitable Destination

Ciao Amore, A Journey and a Journey’s End

Time to Go, Travels to a Journey’s End

Heaven Bound, A Journey and a Journey’s End

Heaven Bound, Travelling to Reach My Journey’s End

Heaven Bound, Travelling to My Journey’s End

A Place of Grace, My Journey’s End

I’m concentrating on what, really deep down, I’m after in writing this book. It’s interesting to review my intension. Where do I want to end the book and end up, generally speaking. Well if I put the question that way, it’s easy: with God.

So, the latest title version is the one I started with, but with a different ending! Funny how I end up where I started. I guess it’s just my intension that needed to be shifted to understand where I already am: with God.

Mauro Friday May 11, 2012

It’s Mauro Friday, a day of the week I feature one of my husband’s photos. Let’s see, let me pull out one of the shots he took at this time of year in 2011 during our visit to Tuscania (a different region than Tuscany), near Viterbo.

Have a good weekend. Love E

Grace Notes May 10, 2012

An idol, in the context of A Course in Miracles, is anyone or anything that usurps the Love of God.

To understand how idols work, here’s an example. One of the first topics that “hit” me when I got to the Bavarian spiritual retreat in April was trust. When I say that, it doesn’t mean trust got out a bat and it hit me over the head. Instead, when I went into my first deep meditation and tried to explore trust, fears about my husband clobbered me. The equivalent to a bouncer at a teens disco stepped in my way. He stood at the front of the door and said with his chest puffed out and arms crossed “You’re not coming in here.” Or, I had another image of a beautiful woman from Mauro’s mother’s house walking up to me and saying in a very evocative way, “I’m here for your husband.”

An idol is someone or something you believe in “more” than you believe in God. My fears were driving me. As long as I believed in them, and followed them, the less I could see, hear, and be with God. They were, unconsciously, my substitute for God.

After the Bavarian retreat, when I started looking at friendships I have had with iconic women in my life that represented political or spiritual attainment, I ran into the concept of idols again. They had something I wanted and, looking back, I can see how I scooped up all my self confidence and drop kicked everything into their beings. As I began to explore my tendency to give away myself to another, the bouncer stepped into my path. This time it was a woman, a psychic type, with grayish hair, looking rather mystical and spiritually correct (spirituality can be a guise as much as anything else). She stared into my eyes and said “You shouldn’t be here.” It made me shutter.

Beyond her was trust, trust in myself and trust in God. I walk in. It’s light but I have my eyes closed and grope for a handle. “Help me, help me,” I call out in a panic. But there is no one there. I finally open my eyes and see I am in a blank room, an empty children’s playroom with all the furnishings and toys moved out long ago. There is literally nothing there. I feel a bit foolish with all the drama: swinging arms, cries for guidance, screams of terror, years lost. And, now I see, the room where I’ve always wanted to go is absolutely blank. The sun is up. Light is coming in through the window. I am in the house where I grew up. My mother has left after a divorce. I am alone. I let the emptiness from the house with my mother’s absence sit quietly within me.

I have been over my mother’s leaving so many times, the story has taken on its own life. I continue to forgive but when I look closely the room, the house, the backyard, that experience is no longer distinct within me. It’s all dissipating into nothing. There is no defined marking to say “it happened.” There is nothing there to describe. There is nothing there to base my personality. There is NOTHING at all there.

I say it’s hard to trust because I am afraid of being abandoned like what happened with my mother. “But look again, Elizabeth,” a voice resonates within. I am afraid of not having a story to base myself in. Fear does that. It delineates, it defines. The fear is not having anything on which to base my personality. The detail of the story, the specifics can be idols as well as anything else.

I watch closely. As the detail leaves me, and nothingness prevails, it’s just God and me. Or, wait a minute, looking still deeper, it’s just God.

Grace Notes May 9, 2012

One of the many healing benefits from the intensive meditative time at the Bavarian spiritual retreat, is that I am shown what issues come to the foreground within me that feel like blocks from going deeper within myself. The topic of trust with Mauro came first. I was almost expecting that one. We have been through a lot together but I still feel a bit on thin ice and move slowly.

The next one up felt like a grizzly bear in comparison. It has to do with Cherryl, an ex-spiritual guide/friend of mine. Interestingly I was sent an email from a dear friend telling me about news of a former high school counselor, Jan, with ovarian cancer, just as Cherryl was coming up as an issue in my meditations. Jan and Cherryl were both icons in my life. They were everything to me. Interestingly I saw how Cherryl helped take me out of the socio-political heady life of separatist feminism I was courting as a result of knowing Jan. So at least appreciation was entering the no man’s land called “My relationship with Cherryl” within my psyche.

But it’s time to go deeper. As if on cue, we have a lovely houseguest, Laura, at the moment. She too had a relationship with Cherryl that bordered on dependency. But she was able to say goodbye with grace as her life changed and evolved. Nevertheless, Laura knows Cherryl well and is the perfect friend to help me dig within myself to see what oh what is so problematic.

It would be easy to focus in on the abusive qualities of the relationship with Cherryl: co-dependency, verbal cruelty, obsessing over bad habits with one another, etc. My personality was problematic for her without a doubt. The big question mark at this point is what made me crave the relationship with her if I was so unhappy and in agony.

I have had a few other (less intense) friendships since Cherryl that reminded me of my relationship with her. I had this feeling of gripping on to another. Then, always, I would be shunned and left feeling abandoned.

As I bring my attention to the issue, I notice my tendency to scout for others who have qualities I want, then envelope them with my attention, give them (unconsciously) my confidence, identity, sense of worth, blah blah blah, then look at them with my power and claw like mad to get it back, often with mean words and actions.

I’m sure there are some formidable circumstances that begin such destructive patterns. But at the moment I’m much more interested in just being mindful of the goings on. Then step by step I’ll work my way back to the origins within myself. I asked for healing. Now it feels like I can almost step back and watch it happen. My job is to remain open. Not surprisingly, I have help, someone to hold my hand as I do.

Grace Notes May 8, 2012

I say the word “engagement” a lot. I know it’s not a regularly used word in English because it brings to mind the heavy involvement of a fiancé and a life time commitment. But here in Italy, it’s a commonly used translation for a word heard often in Italian: “impegno.” Impegno means every type of obligation from an appointment to allegiance. So when I’m speaking English to Italians I use “engagement” to substitute the word that they use a lot, impegno.

This week I’ve been thinking about engagement for myself. As I mentioned last week, I’ve been considering an affirmation from A Course in Miracles: “Today I make no decisions alone.” As soon as I concentrated on the verse, I saw immediately how many thoughts rolled by my head, wanting to whisk me away and consume my focus. Any one of these millions of ideas and judgments could consume my life for unlimited amounts of time. Reminding myself “I make no decision alone,” at least helped me not jump full fledge into what’s out there. Instead I stayed still and at least waited until I could share in the decision making.

Life brings me news and events every minute. Life will ask me to act. And it’s THAT moment I have been considering. If I hold on and make no decision without the Holy Spirit, I feel my engagement in life changing. My commitment becomes one of focusing on Spirit. The decision in life comes naturally from that point.

Don’t get me wrong, I feel present in life. I mean, I helped organize our Saturday so that Fedy to go to school and a 3 hour water polo practice, Gilbert had a piano lesson and a soccer game, Mauro had a photo lesson all afternoon, and I had 2 English lessons and all the taxi work for the above. There wasn’t any moment that I did not feel involved and happy to be available to whatever the circumstances asked of me.

But the engagement in life’s events is different. I do my best and contribute when/where I can. But the questions, the answers, the implications, the consequences subside. What is important is my allowing the decision to come from an openness with another source. My engagement is in accepting help. The outcome in life no longer takes precedent. Instead it’s the peacefulness that results within me that has got me paying attention.

Grace Notes May 7, 2012

As many of you know, seduction has been a touchy subject for me. I was once an expert and used my talents abundantly. It has taken me years to rid myself of these crazy patterns. Once I stopped controlling with looks and sexuality, I did it at work with my mood and voice. Step by step, it has felt like peeling off layers of an onion. The reflection of the healing always clearly present in my life. Here’s the latest.

Mauro is now into the “portrait” section of his photography class. They had an indoor class with a model last week using artificial lighting. And then this weekend, the students had a session outdoors with a model near a sea front setting using white and gold reflection boards. Each time Mauro has returned with 100-200 shots of a good looking young women showing her….best parts.
Mauro is far more interested in the technical aspects. He’ll point out, for example, a shadow under one eye that makes her image lopsided. Or he’ll point to too much emphasis on the reddish/yellowish colour that is not the “mood” he’s looking for.

I see a choice right away. I could look at the very beautiful women and see them coy yet interested in showing their stuff, and see a man very excited about the whole process. Or I could see Mauro wanting very much to bring me into the whole process. I choose to trust.

“OK, Mauro,” I bring my past expertise out as a tool to help my husband read his subjects, “Let’s look at these photos together.” The one of the outdoor model showed a sporty good looking gutsy type woman in jeans and a striped shirt, with a fun white hat she would bring around her face to hide this spot and that. Her favourite shots, you could easily pick up, were the ones in which she pulled down her sweater-shirt to show off two gorgeous shoulders.

“So,” I said, “What does she want to show you, her shoulders, right?” Then we scanned through the shots. “But look at this one,” I said. We studied a photo in which she has her shoulders covered but she is lifting her hair up off her neck in a moment of fatigue and over heating. She was taking in a deep breath and had a lovely intense look on her face. He took the photo from the back side getting the curve of her chin but mostly this beautiful neckline, without promoting what she thought was her best feature – a much more suggestive and beautiful shot.

We looked back at last week’s photos. There was a similar story. For the indoor portrait, the young woman had very long legs and a large bust line. The standard shot with such features is a full length frontal one. But a few of his shots caught her from the back while all the other photo students were clamming to take her photo. And it shows a young woman doing her best to show off her gorgeous features while others, with almost a panic in their eyes look on – an incredibly interesting shot, showing the model’s beauty while also showing the “scene.”

Mauro and I talked about how a person in front of a camera or a model will put forward what he/she thinks is his/her best feature. Your job as a photographer is to decide if you want to go with that auto-art-director decision, or dig deeper and see for yourself what feature best brings forth a lovely and loving portrait.

This is a challenging point for Mauro. He is by nature rather shy and rarely insists with others. He is very strong within himself but he doesn’t let that be seen by others. When he has a camera in his hands, he is being given the director role. That means, he leads. He gives indications for positioning the body, direction of the eyes, etc. And, although, it’s very exciting in every sense of the word, it’s also very scary.

Yes, I guess that’s the way to say it. It’s very exciting (in every sense of the word) to see Mauro off the launch pad with his creativity. And, it’s a bit scary. I could stand by and let my judgments about his take off get the best of me. Instead I choose to jump on board and let him send me into orbit with his vision.