Are you in or are you out?

Quote of the day:

“I was sitting, avoiding writing by rearranging my desk, moving my chair back and forth, my brain skipping around. Suddenly, I felt this clear, almost painful, flash of energy inside my body. Two seconds of clarity.

In that moment, I knew — the way that you know something with your whole being — that my life is only moment to moment. It was not going last. I had more years behind me than I would likely have in front of me. Instead of running away or dream walking or sleepwalking my way through the rest of whatever was left, why not make some conscious choice about how I want to live?

In those seconds, there was a question: are you in or are you out? It was an invitation to step into my life fully, to be more deliberate, more mindful, practice presence in living the rest of my life. It was an opportunity. A simple, intense, formidable, frightening opportunity.” — Ann Reed from her BLOG

Last Saturday, a women’s retreat that I had helped envision and plan with two other women from our church’s women’s group, finally happened!

Over 80 women laughed, played, learned, drummed, and danced together for a day of connection, contemplation, and renewal.

The theme of the retreat was “Dance, when you’re broken open” from a quote by Rumi (“Dance, when you’re broken open. Dance, if you’ve torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance when you’re perfectly free.”).

The idea that sparked the theme was my deeply held belief that despite all of the pain and suffering we experience and encounter every day…

Life is a miracle.

Life is beautiful.

Life is a gift.

We can focus on the pain and problems of the world, numb out the pain with stuff or addictions or busyness, and check out. Or, we can feel the pain deeply and still see the beauty all around us. We can go towards what we want to see in the world instead of away from what brings us pain.

Ann Reed, one of my favorite singer-song-writers, gave the keynote address, “Love this Life,” at the retreat. As I sat and listened to her speak and sing, a deep feeling of “Yes” arose in my heart. And when I heard her ask, “Are you in or are you out?”  I wanted to jump up and shout “I’m in! I am so IN!”

Tears of joy gathered in my eyes.  It was not so long ago that I wasn’t feeling “In” and I wanted “Out.”

To be present in our lives, fully present, and wide awake and feeling “The Full Catastrophe” (in Jon Kabat Zinn’s words) is not easy.

As I reflect on creating this retreat and the theme of the retreat, I realize that I created exactly what I needed.

The past summer and fall were difficult for me.

I live with chronic pain. Sometimes it’s better. Sometimes it’s worse.

For over six months, the pain had been steadily worsening to the point where standing 10 minutes to prepare a meal caused severe pain. I wasn’t able to sleep. Even sitting in my most comfortable chair hurt. I tried everything that had helped reduce pain flareups in the past. Nothing was working.  I got tired of sitting, resting  (the only thing that seemed to relieve the pain) and limping around. Even reading, one of my favorite activities, began to bore me.

I’m a photographer. I wanted to be out in the woods photographing nature, traveling up to Northern Minnesota to make photographs. I couldn’t do those things last summer. I couldn’t even do the stuff I normally try to avoid like cooking and cleaning house. It was incredibly frustrating being dependent on others.  I turned 60 in September, and wanted to travel somewhere to celebrate, but I was in too much pain to travel.

I started thinking, “If this is the way my life is going to be, I don’t want it. I don’t want to live like this for 20 or 30 more years. I’m ready to check out of  earth school.”

It was the first time in my life I had felt like this.

Finally, when I had tried everything I knew how to do to “fix” the pain and nothing helped, I started doing the only thing I could do—being more present to the pain, noticing how it moved and shifted, noticing my thoughts and emotions as they moved like waves or sometimes like a stuck record-player, playing the same sad tune over and over. Slowly, inexplicably, after months of noticing and watching, the pain decreased, and I am now able to do a bit more.

We all have challenges. We all have our own knee-jerk unthinking reactions to them. Some people plow through pain and difficulty. Last night I watched American Experience:JFK on PBS. I was amazed how John F. Kennedy pushed himself through illness and pain to accomplish what he did. While I knew that he had lived with back pain I had no idea how ill he actually was and how much pain he endured. I cannot imagine doing that.

But I can imagine living my life fully, no matter what it brings.

I don’t always get what I want. But I can savor life anyway. It’s not always about what I want. I am learning patience. I am learning to be present. I am learning to let go of ego.

Beauty is always there, waiting to be seen.

Love and kindness can be expressed in countless ways. Ordinary miracles are all around me.

This morning when I looked at the ice on the pond behind the house and saw the thermometer read 14 degrees, I got to practice acceptance. But I shall do more than simply accept what is.

If I’m IN, I will be all IN.

I choose to find beauty in all the seasons of life, including winter. I choose to be awake. I choose to dance, when I’m broken open. Being here, living this physical life, is a gift.

Life is not always happy, but being present fully leads to joy. Gratitude leads to joy. I give thanks for everything, even the pain.

[Ann Reed’s full text from her keynote at our retreat can be found on her blog post Love This Life.]