Chaos Required

Transformation comes out of chaos. 

Is this true? I’ve been thinking about it lately. I imagine two different scenarios which inform transformation, whether personally (e.g. health, financial, sense of purpose, search for meaning), or in larger social, cultural and political situations (e.g. wars in Ukraine and Israel-Palestine, full civil rights for women, LGBTQIA, the differently abled, Biracial, Indigenous and People of Color).

The first scenario is the one where for the person or people involved, everything is in good order. There is order, organization, timing, resources, predictability–basically, a homeostasis in all things. If I as an individual am living that short of life where everything is in place, I am NOT looking for transformation. Why would I?  Everything is in place. And, if I am a part of a majority of people in a community, city, state or nation where pretty much everything is in order, why would I want things to change? I would only be looking for transformation if all those things begin to dysfunction, to fall apart–or I begin to notice those for whom nothing is in place, and that so disturbs my world that I begin looking for, working for change.

The second scenario is the one that we find after the first one has blown up. Nothing is really in order anymore. Nothing can be predicted or expected. Resources are scarce. Organizations don’t function and order has collapsed. When things are that bad, what we begin to find are pieces of our previous existence that we didn’t even know were there, all along, and from those we begin to rise up.

I know that transformation happens in the second scenario. Human history is full of examples both on the collective as well as the personal level: out of the ashes, human endeavor and creativity arise to build something new, to do better, and maybe for a while, to be better. Clearly, in that sense, chaos is required for transformation to take place.

I’m wondering about the first scenario. While most of my personal world is still in order, can I hear the call coming from those who are already in the ashes? I think (I want to hope) there is that possibility. If there is, I think it may be because compassion comes. Before the chaos. 

~Bob Patrick

Posted in Gift of Transformation | Tagged | Leave a comment

My Mask

I suffer from anxiety and panic attacks. My son was the first person to let me know what I was suffering from. I never knew that I had it. I just worried about everything and I believed that was normal. Well, I was wrong. 

Since my cancer treatments, I  have added ptsd and depression to my mental issues. This was too much for me to handle alone. I take an anti anxiety and anti depression pill. I also started talking to a therapist. It all helped but there are times that it doesn’t.

Sometimes, I sink into a hole and I’m surrounded by darkness and my dark thoughts. I just want to stay home in bed because I’m tired and I want to be alone. I go into hibernation mode. 

The thing is that I have responsibilities.  My family depends on me, I wish they didn’t but they do. I have to go out into the world even when my mind and body don’t want to. 

I have a transformation trick. I have a mask that I wear when I have to deal with people.  I smile and laugh and act “normal”. Nobody sees through the mask because I have carefully crafted it to protect me. 

I don’t always wear my mask. But, during my dark days, I have to wear it to transform into a functional adult. It’s a part of my life. I’m sad that I need a mask but I’m grateful that I have one.

~Rita Romero 

Posted in Gift of Transformation, Uncategorized | Tagged | 5 Comments

One Thing Changes Another

Each separate being in the universe
returns to the common source.
Returning to the source is serenity.

Tao Te Ching, 16
Stephen Mitchel, tr.

He lived in the house down the street. I only ever saw him when he passed in a car, and that was rare. The only thing I ever heard about him was that he was unhappy, especially since his wife had passed.

The tree stands at the corner of our house in the front. From late fall to early spring, it looks dark and like a thousand skeleton fingers reaching up toward the sky, cold and unfeeling. 

One day, before we are quite aware that it’s spring, this Japanese Magnolia suddenly explodes in color with flowers that are pink and purple and magenta. The flowers, the size of your hand, open so fast you can almost hear them.

One such early spring day, I came home from work, and he was standing in my front yard, the unhappy old man whom I really did not know. I got out of my car. He turned with a look on his face like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar. His English was not so good. “I just wanted . . . so beautiful . . . I’m sorry . . .” and he started to walk away.  “Yes, it is beautiful, isn’t it?” I said.  And he stopped.  He smiled. There were tears in his eyes.  He told me he just wanted to get close to the tree.  He wondered if he could take a picture. I reassured him.  He could take as many pictures as he wanted, and he could visit the tree in my yard whenever he wanted to. 

A summer or two later, word came of his passing. His children were gathering at the house.  We looked up their culture’s traditions around death and found that a basket of bread and fruits was a common expression of support at the time of death, and so we went to the door.  His son greeted us.  A smile and a tear in his eye looked familiar to me. 

And this is a story about how a tree, and some flowers changed me, changed him, a little bit, and made us a little more neighborly than we had chosen to be on our own. 

The other day, I looked out the window. It was happening again, the explosion of colors. 19 times this has happened.  19 years, this tree which falls asleep into the source each fall, remerges to invite us into life. I thought of him, standing in my yard, moved by the glory of this tree. Gratitude in my heart. A smile on the face, a tear in the eye. One little thing changes another. 

~Bob Patrick

Posted in Gift of Transformation | Tagged | 1 Comment

25 of Me

From the many homes I remember these are 25 of me. 

The house with two toilets in the bathroom my sister and I shared,
Transformed my independence with my very own room. 

Min and Papa’s Victorian house,
Revolutionized childhood play with staircase sled race.

The house next to the small church,
Converted my ideas of theology. 

The duplex where the odd man ran on a dare with no clothes to spare,
Revolutionized my self care as tuna croquettes were always there. 

Aunt Billie and Uncle Blackie’s lake side homes,
Shaped my understanding of nature and love for water,
also; where did my jelly shoes go?

The townhouse that Mom and her lover lived in,
My lies shaped my shame and anger materialized
Unknown to me I saw my moms hypocrisy

The house on oak street with sleep overs and pre teen angst,
Altered my desire to be best friends forever.

1818 Hillcrest Drive, where I spent summer life with Min and Papa
Strengthened my love, but ripped my heart out when they gave up on life.

Aunt Grace and Uncle Charles’ Christmas house,
Evolved my appreciation of teddy bears and trains and family traditions.

In one of the major changes of my life,
The farm house I lived with my father and June,
The transformation in these many years; stressful and ended in death.

At the young age of 20 I married: Our Florence house,
“Why buy the cow when you can get the milk for free”
Transformation of secret resentment.

Homeless in a car working 50 hours a week,
Shifted my shame but revamped my determination. 

Our first house together, friends and family under one roof,
Shaped my patience, deepened resentment and ultimately defined my forgiveness.

Living on our own in Rock Hill,
I was able to remold my creative self with clay.

Relocated to Charleston for a year,
Updated my idea of friendship. 

Six months in Huntsville, Alabama (literal Hell)
Altered my understanding of racism and how it still exists today.

The quaint town of Clover, South Carolina
Improved my understanding of
S   L   O   W     D   O  W   N.

Back to Charleston much to my protest,
I was agoraphobic but with therapy I evolved
Where is my courage?

The Hanahan townhouse on the banks of the river,
My heart diverges out of love. 

In a new path of my life, a friendship that wasn’t meant to be,
My metamorphosis is grand as I’m exposed to new experiences.

North Charleston Town House where we settle into our lives,
I develop a love for cooking and grilling and giving to neighbors. 

The last house in the Tri County Charleston Area,
Great nights singing by a bonfire with neighbors ignited my appreciation for life.

A big move to Atlanta apartments, well Duluth really,
Funny how fate rearranges our lives to fulfill our desires
My life is transformed by a Community of Druids.

The Orange cat house,  where I currently reside with my loves by my side,
My life overhauled with understanding of trauma
Materialized by the love of one that is forgiving and understanding.

And now the twenty fifth me, understanding, loving, desire to be a safe space for the ones I love, creative, outgoing, forgiving, courageous, compassionate, and curious.

~Candice C. Carver

Posted in Gift of Transformation | Tagged | 1 Comment

Life Goes On

I will let you know that life changes in a moment. Sometimes, you have a feeling about the changes. Sometimes, you don’t. Life is like that. It’s very inconsiderate, isn’t it?

My family changed when my mother fell.  My nephew called 911 and the firefighters came and got her up. She was taken to the hospital and she had a UTI. She was admitted and stayed at the hospital for a week. She then went to rehab for two weeks. 

I thought that when she got home things would go on as usual. I was wrong. Life looked at me and laughed and told me that your life as you know it has gone. Well, life has done that to me a few times before and those are other stories. 

My mother could no longer get on her bedside toilet. She is completely bed bound. We also learned that she is in the early stages of dementia. She sometimes acts like a child. Most of the time she doesn’t know that she has had a bowel movement. All of this happened within a few weeks. She also has heart failure, we knew about this for a while. She will never get better.

My daughter and l take care of her.. We have to change her, bathe her. We have to change her bedsheets and change her batitas. Batitas are nightgowns in Spanish. We watched YouTube videos on how to do all of these things.

I had mixed feelings about all of the changes. I was angry because I have been taking care of her in one way or another for most of my life. I have a lot of health problems myself and I have to deal with all of this! I didn’t want my daughter to deal with this either. I was sad because this is the beginning of the end of my mother’s life. I was confused because this all happened so fast. I felt cheated because this is my life and I want to do what I want to do in my life. I don’t want to change diapers. It’s a lot of feelings that didn’t help my anxiety. Sleepless nights were experienced.

I talked with my daughter, son, family and friends.  I don’t feel bad about my feelings because these feelings are normal. I did a lot of soul searching.

I have transformed into a daughter who wants her mother to be comfortable and feel loved in the life that she has left. It’s not my mother’s fault, it’s just a part of life. I’m at peace with everything!

~Rita Romero 

Posted in Gift of Transformation | Tagged | 3 Comments

Everything Is Always Changing

Balance comes, not from holding onto a situation, but from making friends with heaven and earth. Earth is gravity, or practicality. Heaven is vision or the experience of open space in which you can uplift your posture, your head and shoulders. Balance comes from joining practicality with vision, or we could say, joining skill with spontaneity. 

Chogyam Trungpa, Shambhala: The Sacred Path of the Warrior

Everything is always changing. Everything. Especially that one thing that I insist not change (and, of course, that one thing . . . changes from time to time).

This is a truth I keep coming back to.  I usually am rather forced to come back to it after some period of mentally or emotionally trying to hold on to something that wants to change. You likely know how this goes. We hold on to something or someone, demanding that they not change, and then in tears, or anger, or resentment, or resolve, or in utter exhaustion (or feel free to combine any of these), we let go. In that moment, something in us has the potential for change. 

What  have I just learned from letting that thing or person go? How have I or will I or can I change as I let them go? Moving forward, what will be different in me and my walk upon this earth because of this episode of trying to stop change from changing?

As Trungpa observes, we can find our path balanced between practicality and vision, between gravity and open space, between skill and spontaneity. But, it’s still change.  Everything is always changing. 

During the month of March, we explore the Gifts of Transformation. Many of us bristle at change, especially when it catches us by surprise. Even the really big changes can become a gift to us. Let’s explore.

~Bob Patrick

Posted in Gift of Transformation | Tagged | 1 Comment

In Honor of Alice

It’s the late 1970s, and I have just landed a new job with a computer software company in San José, California. It’s a sweet small company; the employees I’ve met seem good-humored and fascinating. They are musicians and linguists as well as computer wizards.

On my first day, my boss calls me into his office for an onboarding conversation. He wants to go over the focus of my work, my teammates, the reporting schedule and structure, but he also wants to tell me something more:

Among the company’s software engineers is a transwoman. I’ve lost her name now; I’ll call her Alice. She is a long-term and respected employee. “We don’t make a big deal about this,” my boss says. Alice uses the women’s bathroom, and a few people aren’t comfortable, which is why he brings it up. He hopes that I will—

I’m pretty sure I interrupt him to let him know that this is fine with me. Yes, I feel unsure of myself: This is my very first encounter with an out member of the trans community. Will I make mistakes, and how bad will they be? And I also feel a deep intuitive gladness that this is a place where Alice gets to be (I hope) her full self.

During my short stay at that company, Alice and I remain just “Hello!” acquaintances. I wonder how she is doing now. What has become of her journey, and has she continued to find people and places who love her for all that she is? I wish I could tell her, with the language I have now, how much I support and honor her.

This month we’ve reminded ourselves that the work of Justice and Equity must come from the heart, and that there are many ways for each of us to play a part. I know one thing I can do: I will get on the phone to my representatives to help prevent LGBTQ-destructive laws from being passed in this state. For Alice, and for all our trans beloveds.

~Rev. Nancy Palmer Jones

Posted in Gifts of Justice and Equity | Tagged | Leave a comment