Turtle Journal #19

"The Turtle Journal"
Volume 19, Week of January 26, 2003

"Healing" -Part 1
(The beginning of a series on "Healing" Turtle Journals)

QUOTE OF THE WEEK

"May you live all the days of your life."
-Jonathan Swift

(Think about it.)

PRAYER FOR THE WEEK
This prayer was given to us by Ginny’s friend, Elizabeth Giele.
It is from the island of Iona, Scotland.

Circle me Lord
Keep protection near
And danger afar

Circle me Lord
Keep hope within
Keep doubt without

Circle me Lord
Keep light near
And darkness afar

Circle me Lord
Keep peace within
Keep evil out

Welcome to the Heart

Welcome to the New Year,
Welcome to a Healing and Prayerful Journey,
Welcome You Givers of Life!
And Thank You to All You Healers!

Poems that come from the heart,
Snow on the rooftops,
The clouds that pass in the distance and unveil a brilliant sun
-there it is,
it shines through my eyes to my heart,
Enlightening my soul, giving me new breath and hope for this day.

When we talk about the landscape of the soul,
            the Great Turtle of the ocean comes to mind:
Swimming from one side of the ocean to the other,
            back and forth constantly,
            carrying the message of hope on his back,
            never stopping…

I wrote the following message last Easter;
I print it again for this Turtle Journal about Healing:

The Great Turtle of the sea is coming to the surface for one long breath before he descends into the depths again. Then he'll swim across the ocean and blow out his breath to heal the other side. He will take in a great breath again and swim back to our shores and breathe out again, giving all people, plants and animals the healing breath of life. This is his constant work. He swims from ocean to ocean, from river to river, from pond to pond. He reaches every shore of the world and paddles to all of its islands over and over, breathing in and out, never stopping, carrying his message of peace in his steady, steady, steady way.

Each time he heals us more.
Let us take in his breath.
May all people heal from pain.
May all people feel the turtle's healing powers.
May all people live in peace.
May all people love one another.
Breathe in the peace, the joy, the hope and the love.

Amen.

Letters

Over the last several months Ginny and I have received many cards and letters from people from all parts of our lives. It has been an overwhelming flow of good wishes of love and caring.

The following letter was very healing to read for its reminders of many good times with good friends. They are two friends from my church youth group. (We called it L.R.Y. back then –for Liberal Religious Youth.)

Dear Bob,

We are so sorry to hear about your illness. It really took us by surprise. We got together one day to reminisce about our days in L. R. Y. We remember having a big rummage sale at Fellowship Hall to raise money for church camp. We remember hanging around downtown and how you would jump over the parking meters. Of course we also remember your mom and John, and your many responsibilities with them. Julie remembers helping to build the patio at your house. Kathy remembers the rabbits in cages in your yard. We both remember all of us used to cram into your yellow Volvo and take off for fun places or just to cruise. We remember the music. We were always so impressed at how great you played cello. Kathy, believe it or not, can still recall your mother’s singing voice and how she looked singing from the front of the church. Kathy has a picture of you dressed as a girl for Halloween. That was all a long time ago. Remembering the good things brings comfort for us. We hope it does for you too!

Though we have been out of contact for so many years we still think of you. You’re an important part of our lives. We wish all the best for you.

All our love, Kathy, Julie

Another letter came from a lady who remembered my mother
and me from when I was very little:

Dear Bob & Ginny: I was sad to read the article in our Racine newspaper that Bob has ALS. He will not remember me but when he was a little fella his mother would bring me laundry to do. Then I recall her bringing a little dress suit, Bob was either going to a wedding or he was in a wedding for some one. However, the suit needed alterations and I did it. Then thru the years I lost track of the family. Here is a small donation. I am 87 years old and widowed, but God is so good to me every day. I will remember to pray for you both each day.

Sincerely, Elizabeth Joosse.

(I have a picture of me skipping down the aisle at our friends’ wedding wearing this fancy suit, trying desperately to keep up with the flower girl. My mother sang at this wedding.)

Here are some writings about healing that people have sent in response to my request a few weeks ago. This is just a beginning, and I hope to have many more to include in future issues. Please let this "turtle space on healing" be an on-going dialogue.

9/11 tribute

The going gets tough...
Understanding, compassion
Show a way to peace.

David Eggleton

Dear Bob,

Here is a quotation from Jeanne Achterberg from her book Woman as Healer that was quoted in the book by David and Margaret Hiller entitled Dare to Dream (p. 101):

"What is healing? ....

1.    Healing is a lifelong journey towards wholeness.
2.    Healing is remembering what has been forgotten about connection, unity
                 and interdependence among all things living and nonliving.
3.    Healing is embracing what is most feared.
4.    Healing is opening what has been closed, softening what has hardened
                into              experiences the Divine.
6.    Healing is creativity and passion and love.
7.    Healing is seeking and expressing self in its fullness, its light and shadow,
                its              Lots of love,
            Joan McCabe

Dear Bob,

I don't think my story is great in any way, but it is probably common for those of us who have never faced injury or anything which temporarily disables us. When events alter your life, you have two choices. You can fight the change or embrace it. I spent the first month fighting it, rallying against it, blaming it for preventing me from doing what I wanted to do, furious with my loss of independence and the ability to take care of myself, and feeling something beyond normal guilt for needing to be taken care of by those who love me and for whom I felt I could never adequately repay or thank for their help. Although somewhat prepared for the time it would take for physical healing, I was totally unprepared for the emotional responses. I have been frustrated to tears, crying over this helpless feeling, this vulnerability, this lack of control. And how I love control! I am trying to learn patience, acceptance and to let go of the need to control everything in my circle. I have had to let go at work and turn over the reigns to those I've taught and to give them the freedom and space to perform. I have had to let go at home and turn over the reigns to my sister mostly [my Aunt Carole], to my dear friend, Rose, and to my other relatives and friends who help me on a daily basis. I have had to let go of being in control of every minute of every day of my life and find some relief or joy in the letting go. I am still working on all of this, but some lessons are harder to learn than others! I appreciate my body and my health more, my family and friends, my job and my life in general. I thank my higher power for watching over me and for sending help in the form of loved ones, for guiding the hands of a gifted surgeon, and for making me face my own demons and shortcomings.

HEALING is:

H=help
E-energy
A=acceptance
L=love
I=internal
N=natural
G=gaining strength

Love, Aunt Barb

This poem by Pablo Neruda was sent to us by Sue Coakley

If each day falls
       inside each night,
       there exists a well
       where clarity is imprisoned.
       We need to sit on the rim
       of the well of darkness
       and fish for fallen light
       with patience.

Poem on Healing by David Eggleton

"Healing is What Survivors Do As Long As They Can"
Healing is
so often considered restoration,
but it really is not.

Ask any scar.

Things can be restored
through the efforts of beings,
but things do not heal.

Beings heal by being.

As life goes on,
beings are not what they were.
Maybe not as pretty,
Perhaps not so fast,
but able to continue
to love.

As life goes on,
beings are what they are:
relieved, renewed, revived,
dreaming, struggling,
tiring, dying.

Be present for all of it.

Always love.

The following letter speaks from the heart of the writer about her vulnerabilities.
I know that many people, including myself, feel similar feelings. And I believe
it is healing to share the words and feelings.

Oh THANK YOU Bob for permitting, welcoming, emotion. I feel like I am always trying to dampen down passion, not express real feeling, because it's not "appropriate" to feel too much. It's kind of like going around under a mild anesthesia. Paul McCartney: "Don't you know it's a fool who plays it cool/By making his world a little colder." I so believe this--that all our coolness just makes the world chillier. And yet feeling = vulnerability, so thank God for one's shell. I guess part of what I’m trying to say, after reading the TJ, is don't apologize for your own feelings, even when they're negative, it's part of being human and alive, and sharing it helps keep the world from going cold.

Joanna

I had hoped to send along some pictures in this TJ from my birthday party but
I am still figuring out how to send photos without creating too many megabytes.
will have some help from my friend Charlie on this and hopefully we can send photos soon.
It was a wonderful party with good food, friends & conversation. Here is a poem
I read to friends that night –it was written as a thank you to everyone!

45 AND STILL -VERY- ALIVE

Excuse me, I must find all my poems, my birthday poems.
Where ARE my birthday poems?

What do I do next? The first thing to do IS to start to write my 45^th birthday poem
and then find those poems and read them.

            (I don’t want to write a laundry list or shopping list –I want it to be a poem,
            one that describes what I’m going through now and what the differences are
            between now and last year and the previous years…)

Thank you.
My friends are visiting me. Lisa is coming!
My family HAS VISITED me this year. More visits than ever before.
It is colder this year. There is more snow than usual,
it is white & BRIGHT –more light!
I have more love and more support from friends than ever before IN my life.

"I’m out there", in life more than I ever have been before.
I’m very much IN love with my wife. I don’t know if I am more loving
Than before, but I’m certainly trying harder
–and WE see each other better.

In my teaching I AM more patient, I see the students more for who she and he really are.
I have more fun with them, I sense that they enjoy me and love me.
I have MANY students and teachers who love me.
The MANY FRIENDS and students that gave me a beautiful concert And more.
AND MORE.

The CORE is clear and it is beautiful.
It’s true I can barely move my fingers to do what I want to do with them, they’re weak,
and my legs don’t MOVE except for my toes
-BUT really that’s not what’s so important right now.

I feel fit, when I take stock of what I really have.
I really have true friends, the support of the universe and these friends.
I have help all around and I have the love of the most loving wife IN the universe.
I have treasures that shine like Jade in the desert sun.
Flowers that BLOOM throughout the year.

I have inner strength and wisdom which the Angels have helped me to find, THEY have
helped me learn to work with love and courage, to uncover and count ON help
And ON LIFE.

The ANGELS have shown me love and held me to make me know that I am not alone,
through ALL the darkest moments.
Always the angels are there.

You TOO are the ANGELS -THANK YOU.

And from Ginny I have the constant companionship
and THE BREATH of life itself,
of The FRIEND, the BELOVED.

And from Virginnie I have that Commitment of love, compassion, loyalty to stay with me
            through whatever I go through, and to whatever dimension it takes us.
             I know that she will be with me in living, in dying, through death and beyond–
            always living. Always loving.

What more could I want from a 45^th birth-day?
-Except a party…-and I have that too!

Bob Mendenhall
January 18, 2003

The following poem was inspired on January first this year from a visit and discussions with two dear friends.

I Am Not in This Chair
For Sarah & David& Ginny

I am not in this chair.

A friend asked me,
"What does it feel like to be in your body?"
And it is a very good question. It's funny, because sometimes
I surprise myself and forget that I am in this wheelchair.
I am not in this chair.

My body is limited. And the losses go faster than I can keep up with.
Yet, I am starting to adjust.
And it is not so much that I am adjusting to my body, but it's something
different that I am adjusting to.
It is an attitude, a way of thinking, a different viewpoint.
When I am thinking, expressing my feelings, involved in activity, visiting with
friends, talking on the phone, working (at home or at school), etc.,
I am not in this chair.

I am much bigger. Certainly I am in my body, but not completely.
Part of me is out there in the world, far beyond my body.
I am not in this chair.

I look into the trees outside my window and I see the house tops beyond that,
            and the snow-covered field in the distance,
            and beyond that the hills,
            and the sky above. I am right there.

I am in those trees, I am the dancing leaf in the fall that blew in the breeze,
            swaying its way down to the ground. I am the snowflakes falling
            from the sky, millions of them at a time or just one. And I follow its
            descent all the way to the ground.

I am especially the snow that sticks to the trees. There is something about that
            wet, heavy and sticky snow that stays there through wind and warm
            sunshine, the kind of bright sunlight that should melt it away.
I am also the sky full of snow and clouds as it empties itself.
And sometimes I fly higher, above the clouds towards the sun and I free myself
            completely from this chair.
That's where I am. That's who I am.
I am not in this chair.

When I watch the red-tailed hawk circle around way above the treetops from my
window, spiraling up and up and up,
I am not in this chair.

When I am in this chair thinking or in bed meditating or praying or sleeping,
I am not in this chair.

When I am talking to Ginny, and looking into her eyes and feeling intense love
and sometimes sadness and sometimes joy,
I am not in this chair.

When I am planning the rest of my life, how to work through the week,
When I am meeting with music teachers at school or teaching students at school,
I am not in this chair.

Even when I am getting aquatic exercise in the pool, or when my physical
therapist or home health aide is giving me range of motion in my chair,
I am not in this chair

And especially when I’m on the massage table and Allandra is working with me,
working with intense energy flowing through all my bodies –physical and
others…
I am not in this chair.

But when I am thinking about my limitations, and feeling frustrated
with the things I cannot do,

And getting angry because my left hand won't work the way I want
it to,

            And getting angry that my right hand cannot hold things and I drop
                things all the time (today I dropped a brand-new jar of strawberry
                jam) and then it is such a struggle to pick it up off the floor (a
                royal pain in my mind) –whatever it is, but especially something
                flat like a music CD or a piece of paper,

            And when I want to move my legs on my own but cannot because
                they are so heavy and I have no strength, and when I cannot
                adjust myself to feel comfortable in my chair,

And when I am mad that I cannot pee by myself and am frustrated
that I need help to move my legs so that I can pee,

And when I get frustrated and angry about all these things and let it
all spill out at Ginny,

            Or when I let any number of little events that go wrong get to me
                -or rather when I let myself get me upset (because I forget that I
                am not really this limited body in this chair),

And when I get mad at myself and I am depressed because I think
that I will never get better,

            Or when I worry that I am not getting better, because I forget that I
                am getting better every day, (truly in leaps and bounds I am
                getting better, I am healing myself -and the "self" in "myself" is the
                big Self, the "I" beyond the body, -the body can only follow it
                -well, really, it is the body that teaches –and has much to teach),

            Or worse, when I worry that I am getting worse -the body is
                getting worse- (and in this case, the mind’s worries, the "I", is the
                small "I" - the mind is thinking of only the body, the mind forgets
                that the "I" is much more than whatever is happening to the body),

Or when I am so scared that I will be alone in dying and alone in
death, because I forget that I will never be alone,

Then, yes, then, I am then in this chair.
And THEN, this chair becomes "my chair",
It becomes my prison.

So what does it feel like to be in my body?
            Well, it feels good.
            It feels good and it feels bad and it feels many things.
            And sometimes I don’t feel things at all.
It is (as I have said in another poem),
            -it is a kaleidoscope of colors and feelings and sensations.

My legs, especially my right leg, often feel like logs, very heavy logs.
My right foot feels, almost constantly, like a pincushion full of pins and needles
-though recently, it is not as painful to the touch as it once was.

And just now, in the last week or two, I feel great.
I feel healing going through my body, and sometimes at breakneck pace --the
muscles aren’t dramatically starting to move again, yet the healing is
dramatic and subtle--

I feel the ripples, like little waves on a pond, in all the muscles throughout my
body -not the big waves of the ocean, though the big waves of the
ocean are beneath the surface ready to roar onto the shores.

I have been so aware of my feelings throughout the last several weeks and
            months, many, many different feelings, waves and waves of different
            feelings, and filled with growing and expanding that often I have forgotten
            about how my body is.

Yet I do feel my body all the time very intimately and in detail and I go back and
forth between being acutely aware of my body and then off into other
worlds, the worlds beyond the "normal" senses.

                     So I like to say that I am not in this chair.
                    It’s a part of me,
                                and sometimes it feels all too much
                                 a part of me.
                    And I travel in this chair all the time (even to other worlds
                                I travel in this chair),
                    I work in it -it gets me around in places and to places
                                that I would never get in or to otherwise (even to
                                these other worlds).
                    I am grateful for this chair.
                    I have become accustomed to this chair.
                    I have even become accustomed to this disease and its limitations
                                in some ways –but fortunately I do not stay there, in that
                                comfort (often depression) zone too long -I’m too antsy
                                for that,
                    I’m too interested in growing, expanding, sharing, writing, teaching,
                                moving on, healing, living- for that.

                    I am on a journey, on the path, in this situation, and in a body and
                                experiencing this emotional and spiritual being,
                     And it requires me to be in this chair all of the time
                                 -in fact for several months now I have not been able to stand
                                with this body (except in the therapeutic pool -and what a
                                glorious sensation that is!)
                                                  while in this chair.)

But I am not in this chair.

So when you ask me,
"What does it feel like to be in your body?"
I will say many things,
but I will not say that I am in this chair, for really and truly,
I am not in this chair.

Bob Mendenhall
Written January 1-9, 2003

Maybe it all can be said much simpler:

"For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."
-Matthew 6:21

Let’s end with a laugh…

Joke of the Week
(Apologies to all Waldorf Moms)

How many Waldorf moms does it take to open a can of bio-dynamically grown chick-peas?

Four. One to turn the crank while singing a little chick-pea song, two to debate whether they are being served in the correct color bowl on the correct day & time, and one to share the story of crafting her hand-whittled maple can opener with the hand-hammered copper blade that truly reflects the spirit of can-opening. Namaste- Jean

There are some very beautiful writings to come in the next
Issues on Healing, please stay tuned.

~LOVE & HELP IS ALL AROUND~