Tag: write

Cloak

Rachel Ann3 Comments

Burning the midnight oil here, but when the spirit moves me, I try to honor the words and write. I had the joyful experience of taking a HIPHOP HITTS class with LaTosha Wilson. I had this moment during class when I realized how impactful it can be to connect with another person. Maybe the atoms collided to spark this, and my sister’s spirit moved through me, but I felt something truly move through me. There was a spark, and this idea came to mind, so here goes.


If I were to explain my life to a stranger, I would say it’s like woven fabric. A tapestry of the places I have walked, the people who have held me in so many ways, the lessons learned, and the moments that cast light through moments of darkness. The threads we weave each day are sewn in color. Our energies collectively create these dynamics that can be tangible if we pay attention. Sometimes when I truly get to know a person, I begin to see a color that resonates within my mind when I look at them. Maybe it’s a sense of learning someone’s aura or way of interacting with the world around them. What have you? It’s there. I felt this sensation of red, warmth, and fire in class.


One person can transform the energy of a room, and it is in these moments that I imprint a memory in time. I cannot explain how impactful dance was for me in my healing journey from losing my sister and having multiple pregnancy losses in succession. I told myself I would not let it define me; however, I now can see that it paved a much greater pathway in my life. It taught me the essence of gratitude, choice, and feeling the one thing no one can ever purchase but must earn: love.

What I felt tonight can be likened to a term coined by Emile Durkheim known as collective effervescence. The meaning of this phrase explains how a society or community of people who come together can work with one another to express and participate in the same thought or action. It reminds me of my experiences in singing with choirs and feeling the collective effervescence from the music we created.

This fabric is something I carry with me. I weave through it daily; I hold it, not as a load of burden but as a cloak that shifts and moves with me. My collective being remembers the moments that turned the fabric. This fabric holds the healing that transpired with each step of forward momentum. The bumpy textures of scars from my past experiences have become one with the material moving as a force to propel me forward.
These chapters have become textures in my life. Like a quilt, I can cuddle up to and hold close. Feeling this sense of deep gratitude for the places I have been. I was filled with such an overwhelming sense of gratitude to be present, dance, and share in the energy in the room.

We all carry so much with us each day and every year, shaping and molding us into the human beings that walk this earth. What if each of our capes becomes more entwined and lifts one another up? Perhaps this is a utopic perspective or cliché, but with gratitude, acknowledgment, and hope, I can’t help but feel that my cloak has become my queen’s robe lifting me along as I walk forward.

Notes of gratitude

Rachel Ann1 Comment

Before LDB was born he knew about music. I would sing to him every day in the womb. We had a morning playlist we listened to. Sometimes he would kick or boob me in response to what music we sang or listened to.

I have found a surreal sense of gratitude in sharing music with him each day. Today, on his fourth month birthday celebration we sat down at the piano and he listened, touched, kicked his feet, and observed his mama’s music time.

We sang through three songs and there were no tears or cries, just curiosity and joy. Music can always find a way to touch someone’s heart even when words are not known. 🎹 🎶

Evolution of time

Rachel Ann2 Comments

Blogging over the past year took a back seat for me until today…

Going into this year, 2018, I had to stop myself and reflect on the previous one. I had never thought I would face the next road as a woman without my sister by my side. I had wanted to be a mother since childhood, but I had not allowed myself to truly focus on that desire until something in our brain’s clicked.

Over the past three years I experienced many trials and milestones of strength being built one day at a time. There were countless times I would go to share something with my sister, Debbie, and I was not able to do so. Pregnancy is one of those remarkable and challenging life experiences that really makes a woman lean on her friends and family.

Throughout the nine months I learned something vital, I may not have my beloved sister to speak to directly. However, she helped me form an amazing network, a circle of women who are all sisters in some way. I had formed friendships that were rooted deeply in hope, faith, and love. I leaned into their love and opened myself up to broadening and trusting these amazing women.

They all know who they are. The many colors of our lives formed a beautiful rainbow that I could turn to when clouds began to form. Today marks the second month of my son’s life. I never allowed myself to fully focus on what he might be like, or what it might feel like to hold my child. I knew all too well the feeling of loss, having experienced it twice.

When I finally lay in the delivery room pushing and fully realizing that I would be a mother, I allowed the image to finally form completely. I saw the beach laid out before me. I went to the sand and the surf where I knew Debbie was one with our beloved Earth. I envisioned holding my son’s hand and carrying him along that very shoreline. I saw him laughing and running into the surf. I had not yet looked at our son’s face, but I knew it nonetheless. My heart knew who he was. I had my wonderful husband and beautiful sister-in-law on either side of me helping usher him into the world. Their helpful counting became a lull of waves along with the contractions I felt. I focused on the waves in my mind’s eye. Maybe it was the introvert in me, or maybe it was Debbie also helping pull me through, but honestly all I remember is seeing the waves crashing over and over. Those three and a half hours were worth the wait and the pain.

It has been said that through struggle we learn the true depth of our courage. Thank you to my mom for sacrificing what you did to bring myself and Debbie into this world. I truly believe that souls become intertwined and I know that the three of ours will always be so. I now know what it truly means to be a mother and to cherish the existence of a life that you can carry forth into the world.

Five days after our son was born, I stood in the window cradling him in my arms and I waited for the sun to shine in our window. I turned on John Denver singing, “Sunshine On My Shoulder,” and I cried. The tears just flowed forth as I felt waves of emotion wash through me. I still cannot listen to that song without crying. I knew in that moment that the sunshine, just like the moon, and the sea would continue to rise and fall. Humanity would continue to chart its course, and we, mere specks in time are a part of the greater universe that would move forward. Life has a way of bringing things full circle in your life. The one thing I can count on is that time will always pass by quickly and our lives will continue to evolve and grow.

IMG_2145

Add some vinegar to it…

Rachel Ann3 Comments

One of the best gifts my sister bestowed upon me was her knowledge.

Knowledge for life.

Knowledge as a mentor teacher.

Knowledge about being a human.

Knowledge as a mother.

Knowledge as a daughter, a sister, a wife, a woman, a human, you name it.

Most of all, it was the knowledge that she learned about self-care in her last three years of life that enlightened our relationship. It was through our discussions, her advice, and pearls of wisdom that I truly grew as a person.

I knew what self-care meant as a concept, but I did not always act upon it.

She taught me that it was not selfish to put yourself first.

It was not selfish to eat healthy, take time to create and cultivate, to exercise, to love and cherish my body regardless of the pain that I went through from time to time.

She taught me that boundaries are healthy and that kindness is a choice that you can always act upon.

One beautiful gift she shared with me along the lines of self-care was acupuncture. This act of sharing an amazing healing arts center revolutionized my health. Acupuncture has been a key ingredient in my recipe for survival and loving myself through my life journey in the last year.

I often have joked that the acupuncture specialist I see is also my therapist. She is an advisor, a healer, and a listener. She helps me feel more balanced, and allows me to feel safe enough to strip away the outer coating I shield myself with. This provdes me with the opportunity to expose my truths and reveal myself openly to my connect my mind, body, and spirit.

There is something to be said about allowing yourself to be vulnerable with a health care advisor whom you trust and recognize has wisdom to share, when they truly listen to you.

She asked me recently, “How are you feeling…” and I said, “I’m getting there, working on feeling better, not there yet…” She said, “You need a little embellishment, a little bit of balsamic vinegar to take the recipe to that next level… to get it there, here we go…”

Small prick one, small prick two, “What about now? (Pulse check) Yes, that’s it.”

Who knew that the girl who feared shots and begged for them to be over as a small child would regularly seek the counsel of a Chinese medicine specialist. This same girl looks forward to the tiny pricks that provide balance with miniscule needles.

Sprinkle some vinegar into your routine and see what comes of it. You just might surprise yourself.dsc_7048

Photo credit: K. Sciuto

~9 months of passing times~

Rachel Ann2 Comments

During my morning drive the waves of feelings emerged as the sun streamed through my window pane. Today is the 21st.  Today is the day that nine months ago my heart broke as my nephew had said to a friend. My heart broke and felt like it dropped out of my chest and numbed with stillness. Over the last nine months my heart continues to thaw. Sometimes it bursts with happiness. Sometimes I catch myself and my breath in one go as it all comes whirling back in my mind.  A loss is difficult to explain. All to easily  or simply put when asked simple questions throughout a day.  I am always holding the threads together and forever weaving and unraveling all in the same motion. Yet it is the act of continuing that I stride with.

Pursuing.

Remembering.

Sharing and reflecting, this is what helps ease the process of grieving.

Life was never meant to be tread easily.

It is with each step of action that I take, I consider my blessings, and multitudes of gratitude that I can meditate on to help lift me up.

Today is a day that I have an opportunity to build upon with my future. How wondrous it is to be a given the very gift of life. I am here. Hineni. הִנֵּֽנִי

She is with me still. Two hearts became one in spirit. Love you to the moon and back Debbie, always and forever.

We Remember Them

By Sylvan Kamens & Rabbi Jack Riemer
At the rising sun and at its going down; We remember them.
At the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter; We remember them.
At the opening of the buds and in the rebirth of spring; We remember them.
At the blueness of the skies and in the warmth of summer; We remember them.
At the rustling of the leaves and in the beauty of the autumn; We remember them.
At the beginning of the year and when it ends; We remember them.
As long as we live, they too will live, for they are now a part of us as We remember them.

When we are weary and in need of strength; We remember them.
When we are lost and sick at heart; We remember them.
When we have decisions that are difficult to make; We remember them.
When we have joy we crave to share; We remember them.
When we have achievements that are based on theirs; We remember them.
For as long as we live, they too will live, for they are now a part of us as, We remember them.

10400605_54572350045_3823_n

Ninth Year

Rachel Ann5 Comments

Think of a time when you felt safe, felt grounded, and felt happy.

Imagine that place.

Can you bring your olfactory sense back to the location? Can you see what it looks like before you? Perhaps you see it and walk within that realm when you dream. Or maybe it reappears every now and then when something strikes a memory chord in your brain.

I can still smell and feel parts of the interior walls of my elementary school. The smell of glue, the wet pavement outside on the playground, and the crisp air after snow has fallen and stillness unfolds.  These smells and the combined shine of the tile in the main hallway are emblazoned upon my memory. I can almost feel the painted brick wall on the outside of the gymnasium. If I close my eyes I can see the hallowed entryway of the leaded windows in the circular library with slivers of light darting across the gray carpeted floor. That smell of the books, dust, and a sense of comfort intertwined with one another can bring me back in an instant.

Walking into my school building four days ago, for the beginning of a new school year, I felt a rise of positive anticipation bubble up within me. There is something magical about watching all of the hopeful children of varying ages walk towards their next school year with fervent glee and nerves.

The twenty six individuals that entered our classroom on Tuesday all carried with them a sense of expectation, a sense of wonder, and an overwhelming sense of jitters.

Their day started off with a gift bag that was stapled together and laid upon their desks, with what they did not know was a plethora of supplies buried within each bag. A mentor colleague of mine taught me about this, “mystery bag,” game as a welcoming first day activity. Each year I have carried on the tradition with a new class.

As the day progressed the student’s nerves eased and my heart melted. I love watching students begin to unfold, ever so slowly they uncurl a tiny layer of themselves, their level of trust builds as they explore the beginning of friendship and community. The sense of innocence in their questioning and steadfast belief in, “doing the right thing, even when no one is watching,” is truly everything that adults strive to go back towards in time.

As an educator it is part of my job to teach about compassion, kindness, patience, and above all: love.  There is no curriculum that can encompass masterful lessons for these essential skills we need in life. It is merely a lesson in every interaction I have with a child, every question I answer, and the laughs that we share. I focus on sharing these ideals through the stories I select for students. They experience, read, and listen to these works of art every day. Children intrinsically desire to show kindness towards one another and I build upon this instinct to create a unique structure every year with a new community of people.

Going into this ninth year I felt a shift in myself as an educator. I realized my level of gratitude had been raised in the last few months. I felt grateful for the opportunity to share my passion for literature and life long learning every day with a new bundle of children. I felt hopeful about what my role could bring to the table in this year of growth for these students. I also felt a rise for my love of humanity, in which I dwell within as I walked through the doors, and down the halls, on the beginning of my ninth year.

IMG_3623 2

Introducing: The Incredible Kimmy the Wonder Pup…

Rachel AnnLeave a comment

In mid-July my husband and I expanded our family and adopted a pup named Kimmy. Little did we know that she was facing a life-threatening illness after we brought her home from the shelter. Within the first 48 hours of her life with us she faced parvo, an upper respiratory infection, and a deteriorating immune system. With supportive and knowledgeable vets, loving parents, and determination she survived.

Today she is thriving, chewing, playing, licking, cuddling, talking, and loving life. Sometimes the best things in life occur when you least expect them to do so.  Today she received shots and the knowledge that she is now 29 pounds, a great improvement from the mere 12 pounds a little over a month ago.

The Incredible Kimmy the dog is a Plott Hound, Retriever Lab mix with… maybe a little Great Dane, or Pitbull, who knows?! But this we do know: she has become a part of our hearts and we are eternally grateful for this new life. ❤

 

8 months with dragonfly tears

Rachel Ann5 Comments

Reflect: Sunday the 21st marked 8 months.

Eight months of grieving and missing, and waking up and realizing that it wasn’t a dream, but that my sister is gone and I miss her every single day. I still find myself thinking, “Oh I can’t wait to share this with… I know that Debbie would love…”

Acknowledgement: It wasn’t until a day later that I really had a full, long cry of sobbing, angry, and sad tears of longing for my sister.

Find joy amidst the tears, always: I went back to her youtube channel and was watching videos she had posted for me throughout the years. I was trying to remember her voice perhaps. Hearing it made me realize just how much I missed it. Those quick chats, phone messages, and conversations I thought would always be available until two year’s ago reality clunked into view. Hearing the intonation of her sharing her thoughts in her vlogs throughout the years she lived in Hong Kong made me smile and laugh.

The tightness in my chest released with the flow of tears that over came me.

Communicate: While enjoying the view of our beloved, Portland Rose Garden recently I remarked to to my husband, “I sometimes find it hard to believe that she is gone because I feel like she’s right here with me, like in my heart, but I know the physical reminder is there.”

rose 2016 PRG

Maybe that is why it was so hard to watch the videos….because it reminds me that she isn’t here, physically any longer.

Miracle moment: I had a beautiful moment while meeting a friend the day before the 21st. She had just sat down and a dragonfly fluttered by and landed briefly on her head. It was beautiful, sleek, green, with iridescence.

Dragonflies.

I never would have thought it before, but whenever I see one, which has been very frequent this summer, I know it is a sign from Debbie. A little glimmer that her spirit has transformed and she is listening from afar.

I smiled and said, “It was a dragonfly! Whenever I see a dragonfly I feel like it’s a message from my sister, she’s here with me.”

I had a recurring dragonfly encounter while visiting Utah this past June. I was walking to and from my friend’s research building on a campus in SLC. I exited the building and made my way across the grass that laid underneath the scorching sun and 100 degree day’s heat. Suddenly, I was being ushered to my bus stop by a fluttery friend, a beautiful dragonfly. It flew with me for about  a block and disappeared. Sure enough, on my way back hours later, the dragonfly visited again when I trudged back towards the building.

Same thing the next day.

Nature provides the best escorts, what can I say?

Take Action and Honor: This past month I completed a wish for Debbie. Well, really began the process after careful consideration, thoughts, and emails with a couple of her close friends. I began the process to archive her personal blog in order to create a book of her work that she cultivated while trying to cope, survive, and research her experience with cancer.

Find healing: It felt cathartic, and challenging to work on it extensively. I realized how important it was for my words to be as clear as possible in the creation of the forward and afterward, and the importance of the bibliophile I was writing about. Honoring her memory, her work, and her perseverance brought me closer to understanding what an amazing woman she was.

Small miracle moments of hope fly all around us. Sorrow has been transformed into something beautiful, effortless, and full of joy.  Watch for rainbows and dragonflies friends. And of course, for sparkles in the light.

Dalai Lama on Loss:

Labels or Love.

Rachel Ann2 Comments

A long time ago I was slapped with labels that were hard to understand as a child, but became quite vivd when I looked deeply at the perceptions that swirled around my exterior.

Label: Female

Label: Daughter

Label: Sister

Label: Friend

Label: Jew

Label: White

Label: Quiet

Label: Nice

The trouble with a label is the sense of belief that goes along with the label itself. When you start to believe in the label itself being more important than what you offer as a human being, you run into trouble.

Ask yourself what labels you see when you look into your own eyes in the mirror?

Who do you see?

Do you see skin?

Do you see hair?

Do you see you or what you perceive to be yourself?

I have been working on a journey of self discovery for the past 40 days. It has been a rocky uphill mind battle that has brought me to a precipice of sorts. I see happiness and love, or I see what I have learned to identify as my ego and fear.

It’s a conscientious choice that you can make with yourself, to think.  Much like a label. As a human you have the ability to think, to consider, and then to act.

Before you speak: think.

Before you respond with words: consider, are your words those coming from who you truly are with love or from your ego and fear?

While you think: choose the words you wish to share wisely. Once said, a word cannot be taken back.

Act with love and integrity.

Love before labels.

I stumbled across this amazing video which spoke to me from Prince Ea:

 

Action vs. Mirrored Silence.

Rachel Ann4 Comments

Do you want to know a secret? 

All human beings are made of the same matter.

We are all the same beings on this planet we call Earth.

Yes we may have varying degrees of desires, perceptions, experiences, memories, and emotions.  BUT, we are all the same.  We come in this world the same, and we go out the same way.

I normally write about my experiences in life while focusing on the themes of love, raw emotion, and my truths. Here it is plain and simple: taking another human’s life is never ever, “ok.”

Having watched someone so close to me die this past year I felt the intense urge to NEVER have anyone else go through the same gut wrenching pain that I felt. EVER. I know that this feeling was irrational, but it was how I felt at the time.

Watching, reading, and considering the events as of late that have transpired in the United States of America in the last few years, let’s not mention the last couple centuries, I felt at a loss. I wanted to hug all of the family members who had lost the lives of their dear ones, and sit and listen to their stories.

I am referring to the list of black men, women, and children who have been gunned down at the hands of racist, despicable human beings in positions of both authority, and regular citizenry. When I stop and think of the faces of these beautiful humans walking down the street, sitting in church, driving their car, walking in a stairwell, I can imagine myself in that position. I know that white privilege exists. I have seen it unfold in schools. I have seen it transpire in grocery stores. I have seen it acted out upon my friends, my students, and my community members. THIS is not, nor has it ever been ok. Racism is a problem, and it always has been. One of the reasons I became a teacher was to empower youth to learn, to learn from one another, to inspire each other with experience, value culture, empathize through their struggles and work in the classroom, and above all, learn to love one another. Through education and our voices may we spread the idea that we are all valuable humans. No one human is better than another ever. Human life is what it is: life. #blacklivesmatter

I am referring to the young children, teachers, and administrators murdered in Sandy Hook. I am a teacher. The moment I heard this over the radio my thought process went immediately to, “How would I protect all of my students if I was in that situation?”

I am referring to the beautiful people dancing and enjoying themselves at a Pride Celebration. No one should ever feel so entitled as to march their way in and despicably take the lives of human beings whose only crime was love and joy. I cannot imagine any of my friends in a dance club being gunned down by a hateful person.

It is abhorring to see what has unfolded at the hands of human beings.

ACTION: I did a little research that took me exactly thirty seconds to find out the following:  I searched for a state legislative address by, googling the state representative for my city of residence, and there popped up all the information I needed. I am currently working on a draft of a letter that I will send every day for as long as it takes to stop the madness of gun violence. 

I challenge my fellow bloggers, friends, and humans to do the same. You want action? Write an email, write a letter, and send it daily. Flood the boxes, in-boxes, voice mail boxes of your state representative until your voice is heard. Posting on social media is one form of activity. I challenge you to take it to the next level.

Life is a precious gift.

Every day you wake up.

You breathe in, you breathe out, and you have a choice to do something with your life.

If you value this gift, than act upon it and speak up.

Life should never be cut short because of the ignorant whim of another human being.

 

life