Thoughts

High wind came

Sparked a fire

became a monster

Engulfed the city of angels

Bushes burned

Trees burned

Homes burned

Markets burned

Stores burned

Schools burned

Churches burned

Everything burned

Acceptance has been on my mind because there are things in my life I’m struggling to accept — or, more honestly, things I wish were different. But I also understand that where I am now is the result of the decisions I’ve made along the way. While I wouldn’t say I’ve made any bad decisions, I sometimes think that if I knew then what I know now, I might have chosen differently. My journey hasn’t been extraordinary, but it may have been a little less traveled. I’ve tended to do things a bit differently, though I wonder: Did I act differently because I felt different, or did I feel different because I acted differently?

On a personal level, I have my own “Circle of Gratitude,” a group of friends with whom I exchange daily lists of things we’re grateful for. This practice started over a decade ago and has become a meaningful part of my daily ritual — though I do miss days now and then. Each day, I try to list 12 things I’m grateful for. Some days, it flows easily; other days, it’s a struggle. But the act of writing these lists is powerful. My friends share their lists with me too, and over the years, these exchanges have become a kind of diary, offering a glimpse into what was happening in my life at the time. Sometimes, friends comment, “It sounds like you’re doing great!” even when I’m facing challenges and had to dig deep to find my gratitude. But that’s the point, isn’t it?

For me 2024 turned out to be a tough year between a couple of unexpected emergencies (Saga of water heater and cat emergency) and my mental health breakdown. As a result, the business has definitely felt the consequence. Yet, I do trust all of this was meant to be. These times of low business have always pushed me to go out of my comfort zone to network further out of my usual circle and get creative. I’m currently exploring some interesting new paths both professionally and personally by following the cues from the Universe.

“Not knowing can mean that there’s something to learn in the situation. It can allow for disagreement without contracting the heart. And we be at ease with not knowing what the future will be. Not adding suffering now by projecting what the future will be, what it will hold. Maybe at this moment, things are okay.

It doesn’t mean we don’t take action, but it means that any action we take needs to rise out of wisdom instead of reactivity.”

As I look out the window, I see the blue sky and lots of trees. It is quite tranquil, yet I am very aware of the fragility of this life as I know it. That’s all the more reason for me to be mindful and present each moment with whatever comes including my own internal storms as I did this summer. Just as the Snowmaggedon didn’t break our community but got us on the path to resilience, my depression didn’t break me but made me more resilient. And there’s an abundant supply of blessings all around.

I have two little step-granddaughters. I don’t get to spend much time with them since they moved out of state a couple of years ago. But I want them to know when they’re a little older they are the big reasons I’m doing this work. And my mindfulness practice along with my continued soul searching help me ground myself while simultaneously learning to love myself more.

Our firewood for the season arrives tomorrow. This weekend, when I change my bed sheets, I’ll be putting on the flannel ones for the first time this year — a small ritual that always signals the real arrival of colder days. A friend told me she’s noticed the local squirrels gathering acorns more frantically than usual. She insists it’s a sure sign of a cold winter ahead.

I, too, began meditating when I learned my father was terminally ill. I had to find a way to sit with my emotions, to allow them room to breathe. Over 25 years later, I’m still discovering layers I didn’t know existed. Enlightenment may not be on my horizon, but I’m definitely on a path, feeling guided each step of the way.

Entering the forest,

I am interrupting the afternoon chatters of the winged ones.

I can only recognize rambunctious Steller’s Jays.

There are others that are familiar, but I don’t know who they are

Are they alarming each other of this two-legged arrival?

I am a frequent guest to this woods.

They must know me by now.

Forest beckons.

I couldn’t wait to get here.

In essence, what I’ve done in the last month is similar to what Simone Biles, the gold medal gymnast, did after the Tokyo Olympics three years ago. As someone put it, she allowed herself to fall apart in order to rebuild. I, too, had to reach a breaking point where I could barely function, experiencing profound emotional breakdowns, to give myself the time and space to gradually find my way back. I had to be brutally honest with myself about what parts of my life were depleting me and what parts were nourishing. I’m still on this journey, but I’m happy to say I’m feeling more grounded, clearer about my path, and more at ease today.

For me, especially because of where I am today, living it up means facing reality, embracing it, and enduring whatever I need to without avoiding or ignoring it. Whatever I’m experiencing is a necessary process for healing the unhealed parts of myself. It is painful and uncomfortable, but all the extreme emotions I’m experiencing have been stored in my body and soul for a long long time and apparently are now ready to be felt so I can release them.

Today, I want to make a confession. I have been struggling with depression for quite some time. A therapist once told me that I’ve always had an undercurrent of depression throughout most of my life. It has never become debilitating, nor has it required long-term medication, except for a few months after I lost a cat more than 20 years ago. Although there have been moments when my depressive state of mind has slowed me down, I’ve always managed to cope well enough to make it through.

What happened next is story-worthy. Making a long story short, the fire-fighting crew recognized they’d have to bulldoze the sacred ground of the Chumash tribe (they considered Mt. Pinos to be the center of the world) and called in the elders to get their consent. After having a counsel of their own, the elders granted their consent for the fire fighters to do what’s required to save the mountain community and performed a ceremony to bless the effort. Within hours the clouds came and started raining, and the Day Fire was contained shortly after. They didn’t have to bulldoze our mountains after all. I always get chills when I tell this story!

My visit to InsightLA last Sunday was a powerful reminder of the ever-changing nature of life and the importance of embracing impermanence. Although my relationship with the community has transformed over the years, the sense of connection and the lessons learned remain profoundly impactful. Being back in that familiar space, I was able to fully appreciate the teachings on clinging and suffering, recognizing the subtle ways in which change has shaped my own journey. This experience reinforced the importance of mindfulness and the practice of letting go, not just as a philosophical concept but as a lived experience that continually shapes our path towards liberation and inner peace.

But even as I lose myself in the delights of summer, I can’t help but be mindful of its fleeting nature. The sun’s gentle embrace, the laughter that fills the air, the sheer joy of swimming a mile — they’re all fleeting moments, here one instant and gone the next. And yet, it’s precisely this impermanence that lends them their magic, reminding me to cherish each experience fully and embrace the transient beauty of life with gratitude and grace.

At the same time I have people in my life who have experienced losses lately.  Whether a family member, friend, and/or pet.  In fact, one of the kitties I have been sitting every once in a while for the last few years in the city passed away while I was staying with them.  Callie was a sweet calico.  When I saw her and touched her emaciated body, I knew her end was near.  She chose to go while her human parents were gone on vacation, but I’m glad I was in the house having given some loving attention the day before.

As I have been writing, I’ve been feeling rather stressed and finding myself quite antsy. In Buddhist language, this is certainly considered, “Duhkha” (suffering, discontentment, dissatisfaction.” In the teachings of Buddha, the inevitability of suffering is a foundational truth. Life, by its very nature, is accompanied by moments of pain, disappointment, and hardship. From minor inconveniences to profound loss, suffering manifests in myriad forms, touching every individual in some way. Bottomline: “Shit happens.” And I’m aware that the level of “shit” I’m feeling is largely making of my own obsessive thinking.

I had been working non-stop for days, and it was the weekend my husband went to his mens’ retreat. I desperately needed to spend time alone and do something to get recharged. I don’t remember when a term, “forest bathing” started. Even the original word, “Shinrin-yoku (森林浴）in Japanese wasn’t around when I lived there. I’ve read in recent years that forest bathing is scientifically proven to have positive effects on our health, which I’m sure those of us nature lovers know instinctively.