A Very Subtle Year
Greetings. It's a new year and my only commitment thus far is to write more. I left my full-time employment so that I could write and proceeded to write less than ever. . . . best laid plans and all. Still, this is a year of the subtle body, of listening and obeying what you hear. This is a year of quiet resilience and steely steadiness. This is a year of infinite knowing and trusting, even in the face of ever-present doubt. This is the year of The Guru Within. And my inner voice has been whispering for more than two years now, write, write, write. So, here I am: writing.
There are many schools of writing. I suppose the two polarities I identify with most are these: One, If you can avoid writing, then please, by all means do. The world only needs those writers who MUST write. And Two, write for the exercise of writing. Practice your craft, tell your story so many times that it becomes its own story, listen to what is within and let it out. But the bottom line is this: I'm happier when I'm writing. Even when it takes me to dark places; even when I don't like the response I get; even when I'm scared by what I find on the page at the end of the day, I'm still happier when I'm writing. And that's what this being human is about yes? Being happy and whole and healthy--at least to the degree we can.
Last year was a challenge on a lot of levels: professionally, personally and spiritually. I'm not saying any of those challenges have resolved themselves completely, but I seem to have learned to put one foot in front of the other and continue forward. Even when it's like walking through mud. To put my reliance on momentum alone. Some kind of movement was better than none. And I learned that I could put out a beautiful, inspired album (The Pearl: Maiden, Mother, Crone) even when I didn't feel an ounce of inspiration myself. I learned that I could inspire others to teach and take on the identity of Teacher even when I was in complete duality and doubt about my own identity. I learned that I could be a person of faith without believing in anything outside of myself. And finally I learned just how fortunate I am that even in my most ungrateful selfish moments, I have had a home and food to offer to a stranger and I have had the Guru's Bani to bring me back to myself and my highest vibration.
So, I move from the year of challenge to the year of subtlety--and I look forward to reporting back to the things I will have learned by this time next year--God willing and the creek don't rise.
blessings and prosperity to you all in the coming year,
sat purkh, human being, woman, writer, singer, songwriter, teacher, trainer, wife, daughter, sister, auntie, gursikh, and more....
Friday Night Rant
In my position as a somewhat public figure, I sometimes get e-mails or comments suggesting that I shouldn't say this or that, or promote this person or that person, or support x or y. I usually take it with a grain of salt and wish them well and press delete. But in the recent weeks and months, there's a new wave of fanaticism arising in Sikh Dharma around the world. Friends of mine have been threatened, slandered, and generally harassed in a way that is downright scary. And in writing this, I suppose I'm opening myself up to the same. But I can't not address this, especially when perfect strangers feel like they have the right to tell me what I should believe, or imply in some what that I don't understand the tenants of my own faith clearly enough to speak about it.
First--let me make my position very clear--if you are a fanatic of any ilk, I have no interest in defending myself to you. All I have to say to you is, Quit being a fanatic. It's against everything that I know to be Sikhi and it's rooted in a deep-seated self-violence that spreads itself out in waves of shame and blame all around the world.
Second--let me say that although I am Sikh--I am an interfaith Sikh. I take the four doors of the Harimander Sahib seriously, all are welcome and none are turned away. That the one God we recognize is the one God of everyone--no one is outside of God, not even God. And in my heart of hearts I know that if Guru Naanak were alive today, he would not have stopped at "There is no Muslim, no Hindu"; he would have continued on to say, No Christian, No Sikh. I was told this week that I needed to research my own faith more deeply before posting things. Well, you know how well that went over. But it did make me start to think. How do I talk about Sikh Dharma? What are the principles that resonate with me most? I've already left the religion of my childhood because it denied the paths of so many others; and I promised myself I would never sign up for a path that denied other paths.
So here's My Sikh Dharma--and if you don't like it--well, get your own page and write your own truth:
1. "the guru takes you away, and the guru brings you back." With this principle we understand that there is no room for judgement in Sikh Dharma. Everything is by the hand of the One Doer.
2. See the faults of others and then unsee them--from the Ardas, our daily prayer. With this we plant the seed of forgiveness in ourselves and our communities. Forgive, and then forgive again. Operate from the positive and act for the good of all.
3. Humility is the ground. Every step we take as a sikh must be rooted in a deep and all-pervading humility. God is the Doer.
4. Praise is the practice. Just chant--everything else will be taken care of.
5. Identity is everything and nothing. With Guru Naanak we understand the humility of nirgun--without form; and with Guru Gobind Singh we see the radiance of sirgun--with form. Find your place on the spectrum and be yourself, formless within the form.
6. "put your head in your hand" -- conquer your ego and live from your heart. Quit bullying people and just mind your own business and become the dust of the dust of the saint's feet.
7. Service is joy. Sacrifice is love. Become a living Saint by becoming completely and utterly human.
8. God is within--Antarajamee--the Inner Knower of Hearts. There's nothing outside of me.
9. Prayer is a Power. Trust the Guru's Bani and allow it to purify your thoughts, your heart, and your mind.
10. Be still and allow the universe to come to you. Chant the name. Live simply, sing sweetly, serve food, practice right livelihood and become Jiwan Mukht--dead while alive. In this way we live fearlessly and cultivate the courage to sacrifice.
Becoming a Teacher
I recently completed the KRI Level Three Teacher Training in Kundalini Yoga as taught by Yogi Bhajan. A long fruitful process that begins with the first step--the call to become a Teacher. I remember saying to myself, I'm going to be a Yoga Teacher--a full 10 years before I ever even found the practice that would become my path! But somewhere inside myself I understood that as a reality of my identity.
The call to become a Teacher is a profound urge to serve, to uplift and to cultivate a mind that can be at rest, even under the greatest stress. The call to become a Teacher must be answered. It may take 10 years or it can happen tomorrow! The nature of Kundalini Yoga is that it calls you to act--now! Not tomorrow, not someday, not maybe, but now. And that willingness to say Yes is the same power that will enable you to fulfill that Yes. Saying yes to becoming a Teacher is saying yes to trusting the universe to come and serve you in your identity so that you can in turn serve others.
The KRI Aquarian Teacher is a three-tiered program: Instructor, Practitioner and finally Teacher, which takes you progressively from the skills you need to deliver the experience of Kundalini Yoga, to the transformation that results from becoming a Practitioner, and finally the consciousness that one cultivates to hold the vastness and integrity of a Teacher. It's a life's work and you can begin it now!
I'm involved in two KRI Level One Teacher Trainings coming up this year: Immersion 2015 here in Espanola, NM and a 10-month course starting in September in Reno, Nevada. To find out more or to register today see:
kundalinireno.com or immersion.kriteachings.org
The Internalized Police State
I've been traveling for the past month, and you learn a lot about yourself when you travel; but you also see the world in new ways when you're away from home and out of your normal routines. One of the oldest adages in the world but I found it true: don't travel to see the world but to see yourself--and your home--more clearly.
Well, my home is the United States; and it's hard to claim that at times when traveling internationally. But nevertheless, it is home. And here at home, even in my home state of New Mexico, there is trouble. I haven't really known what to say about it that wouldn't be cliche, so I haven't made the effort to comment. But in my travels, I began to see it as a broader problem; a more internalized state that we've all adopted, unconsciously, simply through ignorance or through adaptation to family environments, but whatever it's origins, it has become intrinsic. So intrinsic that we don't see it--the police state we're living in.
But the increase in police violence, and yes, murder, against citizens is escalating at such an alarming rate; the acts of brutality by the police are in such stark relief to our understanding of their role, well, we've all been forced to look. When I was young I traveled with my family to the Middle East and Africa. And I remember being shocked at the semi-automatic weapons manned by military in these countries. We just didn't see that kind of thing here in the States. But in many ways it's because we don't have to. The police state has been internalized. We have the greatest incarceration rate in the world per capita--which is criminal in itself as a statistic--but the fact that we don't even talk about it? Well, it's an outrage. I grew up in the 80s, when all the rhetoric was about freedom and individual liberty. In some ways it was the birth of the Libertarian Party, meanwhile, the middle class was being robbed of its share of the common wealth by outrageous changes in the tax code and a widespread theft of the social network via the corporate elite. These realities were just seeds in the 80s; and now we are living in the consequences of the barren fruit of those seeds where less than .01% of the population controls more than 60% of the wealth around the world and here in the United States.
And we've all been programmed not to ask the right questions, we've all been programmed not to question, Where's our share? Why is trickle up more valid than trickle down? From the time we're children, we've been told to sit down and shut up. We've been over managed, manipulated and shouted down by our parents, our school districts, our colleges and even our work places. And we call this a freedom loving country?
I've spent the past month watching people from various walks of life try to control their children, their communities, their mentally ill, their weak and their strong. I've watched perfectly natural curiosity in children be shouted down and shamed in public places. I've watched beautiful animals be unnecessarily badgered by strangers. And meanwhile, I've seen truly desperate people be simply unseen--even by me.
When we raise our children in environments where any creative expression is shut down, where any natural joy is stifled, where any play is shamed and silenced, how can we not expect to create police officers who then go out and abuse their power. How can we not expect a government that oversteps its boundaries? How can we not expect a nation that no longer seems to have a moral center when deciding things as basic as food and shelter and living wages, much less universal health care, child care, and tuition and housing support, which are the things that families need to even feel human in today's world, much less successful.
We used to be a nation whose rhetoric anyway upheld itself as the standard bearer of freedom. Well, that freedom-loving nation is now a nation with the highest incarceration rate in the world, where children are expelled from high school for expressing themselves, where women's wombs are litigated beyond any notion of privacy, and where frankly it is simply unsafe to be a black man, or a brown man. Where fear-mongering has turned its ugly head upon itself and we are nation cannibalizing ourselves, destroying our future as surely as we destroyed our past.
I don't have any answers. Other than I decided a long time ago that the only freedom I could fight for was my own. My own liberation. That's why I practice, that's why I meditate, that's why I read from the Guru, that's why I serve when and where I can. All to find some small corner within myself that is truly free. Free from shame. Free from fear. Free from anger. Free to simply be. Be to be.
Close your eyes with me for a moment and take a deep breath. Remember what is feels like--jiwan mukt. We all come from that place of freedom and we all return to it eventually--some of us quickly, some of us slowly, and some of us liberating others along our way. May I be a vehicle for my own liberation and may I have the blessing of being a hand, lifting someone else to their own liberation as well. That is my prayer. May we all be liberated from our own police state. And me we all know freedom--one breath of fresh free air--before it's all over.
He said . . . she heard
I'm thinking about a workshop I'm preparing for this weekend. It's about communication in relationships and it's said that if you want to master something, teach it. I could definitely use the help!
I feel like I'm so clear in my own communication; but my listening skills on the other hand are so loaded with my own agenda that I have to ask myself, How clear can I actually be when one side of the communication is so unclear? The only consolation if there is one is that I don't think I'm the only one in this particular boat. I think communication in long-term relationships often becomes loaded with things unspoken, or built up over time.
It began innocently enough. I offered to make coffee this morning, and as I was occupied, I heard my husband pouring his cereal. As I turned around, I noticed he had added the rest of the box to "my" cereal, that is, the container of cereal already opened. They were two different kinds of cereal....and I had already attached some meaning into the opened cereal by thinking of it as "mine," to the extent that when we went to the store last night, I asked him to get some cereal for himself. All of this naming and "owning" of things is completely unknown to him by the way. This is all just in my head.
Cut to this morning: I see he has combined the two cereals and I ask, "why did you do that?" And he replies with "it's just cereal." But what I mean is multi-layered: Why are you messing with "my" cereal? Why don't you know me well enough by now to know that I don't like my food mixed? And if you do know that about me why don't you love me enough to care? What I hear is also multi-layered: It's just cereal becomes, Quit being so attached to your food! It becomes a judgment about me and my relationship with food, which is fraught with years and years of underfeeding myself or overfeeding myself. Food and comfort and acceptance and love all being synonyms for one another in my body-mind self.
Now, the interesting thing is that my experience of what he said is true; it is my personal truth because it's a reflection of our past communications, my own special brand of neurosis and my sensitivity. His personal truth may be different: he may have simply meant, "it's just cereal." But he may have also been expressing a greater frustration at my attachment to food being a certain way, which is a pattern between us. The art of communication in relationship is to know your own truth and validate your own truth for yourself, but act from a shared truth. That is, act from the facts. He said, it's just cereal--and that's what I have to respond to--not all my "stuff" I've attached to that very simple act and very simple statement.
So I get to work within myself on all my "stuff" and I get to be neutral in my response to him. I get to forgive him, in advance, for not loving me enough to care about my food issues, because he probably does, he just doesn't relate to them. I get to accept that in some ways he's right, it is just cereal and perhaps I should look more closely at the way I use food as comfort. And finally, I get to make a choice. "My" cereal no longer being available, I choose to go get a croissant at the corner cafe; my need for food as comfort having been met, I can now eat the "just cereal" just fine. Go figure!
Now, perhaps I shouldn't share the machinations of my mind so publicly, but honestly, I don't think many women will find it strange. Men on the other hand will run for the hills. But that's the joy of the polarity. And the work of communication in relationship is to own your own stuff, respond with love and forgive, again, yourself and the other.
When I teach about Guru Naanak and Sikh Dharma I like to point out that in many ways, Naanak was the first feminist. He not only broke with the tradition of the caste system, but he questioned why women were disparaged within the culture, when they were responsible for everything: cozy home life, children, gardens, yummy food, essentially communal life is centered around the woman so "why call her bad who gives birth to kings."
500 years later and we're still fighting this same battle. Equal pay for equal work; valuing social systems that support family life; understanding that what is good for women is good for everyone. Why? Because if don't value the feminine, then we won't protect the vulnerable, we won't honor our feelings, we won't have healthy families. The Divine Masculine has wonderful qualities, but the inherent power structure must bend to the feminine or it will lose the balance.
This is not to say that women aren't powerful, we are. More powerful than we know in fact. But the average man can still overpower the average woman. This is just a fact. Just as the average woman can crush the average man with one word. This too is a fact. These are the inherent differences that lie within the polarity: one is weaker in the physical form and the one is weaker in the ego form.
What does any of this have to do with a saint that wrote a poem more than 500 years ago? Well, a woman uses her word to destroy the man when she is insecure or in duality and conflict about her own identity. A man uses his strength to subjugate the woman when he has not trained his sensitivity to honor the Divine Feminine, oftentimes because of his own inner mother phobia. So we come to Bhand Jammee-ai, the shabad that heals these respective issues in women and in men.
The third of the three practices that Yogi Bhajan explicitly gave for women to master in order to become more truly themselves, Bhand Jammee-ai is a beautiful practice for both men and women to honor the Divine Feminine and heal the world while we're at it!
Sopurkh is a favorite practice of many women in our Dharma. It's one of the three practices Yogi Bhajan specifically mentions for women to perfect.
“There are three things which work for you: Sopurkh, Bhand Jamee-ai and the basic root in which woman becomes woman, which is Ekaa Maa-ee Jugat Viaa-ee [the 30th Pauree]. Those three things are your totalities and this is your reality.”
© The Teachings of Yogi Bhajan, June 29, 1988
I've written about my experience with this practice before, so I won't repeat it here but I will say that this version is inspired by my Godson, Akal Dhyan. As a woman you can hold in your intention three men in your life as you practice your Sopurkh Recitation each day. Akal Dhyan is one that I hold in my consciousness. It is our duty but also our privilege as women to hold the Divine Masculine in our projection and in our prayers. It is our job to create the environments that mold our young men into sacred keepers of truth and protectors of the Divine Feminine. It is the mother's prayer that allows a child to flourish and grow in the divine light of their own highest consciousness. And it is the woman's prayer that holds her man up to the light of that consciousness and reflects it with each act of kindness, each moment of tenderness, and each word of graciousness.
Offer your Sopurkhs without attachment and see that Infinite God flourish before your very eyes.
As a woman we have the power to create our lives as we want them; yet we divest ourselves of that power every day. Each time we put ourselves down, each time we compare ourselves to other women, each time we complain, we lose power. The most challenging part of this 3HO way of life for women is accepting our power. I know that sounds strange, but to really accept that your life looks the way it looks because of the choices you've made; and that if you want to change, you have the power to change it? That's a lot of responsibility! And most of us shy away from that kind of power, that level of accountability. But within this simple step of acceptance lies the key to freedom.
Yogi Bhajan said the key to understanding a woman's power lay in the words of the 30th pauree; that if a woman meditated on these words, she would begin to understand the mystery and the mastery of being a woman.
“There are three things which work for you: Sopurkh, Bhand Jamee-ai and the basic root in which woman becomes woman, which is Ekaa Maa-ee Jugat Viaa-ee [the 30th Pauree]. Those three things are your totalities and this is your reality.”
© The Teachings of Yogi Bhajan, June 29, 1988
All three of these shabads are available on my forthcoming album, The Pearl: Maiden, Mother, Crone. I'll write more about each in the coming days.
But for now, understand that as a woman you are the beginning of the beginning and your essence as the Divine Feminine is behind everything and watching over everything. We are the creators and the caretakers. We are the stewards of the good and the godly and the graceful.
This track has the recommended 11 recitations of this pauree along with a refrain of Adays Tisai Adays. Enjoy it and through it come to know your true nature as a woman.
The Shakti Mantra
Sometimes referred to as the DNA of Kundalini Yoga, we most often practice the Shakti Mantra in the 2 1/2 breath cycle form--aka Morning Call or Long Chant. But Yogi Bhajan also said you could simply sing it in a sweet voice and experience bliss.
I like to meditate on the yantra Adi Shakti when I chant this mantra. Yogi Bhajan spoke about it in different ways at different times. He spoke of it as a symbol that represents the first prayer, the woman on the hill, with her arms reaching to the heavens. The khanda her spine, the miri and piri her arms, and the chakra the circle of life that her prayer protects.
He also spoke about it as the symbol for union of the Divine Masculine and Divine Feminine. The ultimate Shiva/Shakti dance. The khanda the lingam and the miri and piri the woman's embrace, the chakra, the Divine Seed.
Each image is potent in very different ways. One the creative potential of the Word, the power of Prayer; and the other, the creative fecundity of the universe embodied in the union of the polarities.
The mantra itself is a key to remembering who we are: One with the Creator, Truth is our Identity, and Great is the ecstasy found in the moment of insight, illumination and even, liberation.
Meditate on this symbol as you chant and then inhale deeply and allow the symbol to merge entire being. Becoming one with the Infinity it represents.
Or just drive around in your car! This is a great road trip track.
Down on Me with Iyaanrhee-ai Shabad
As a songwriter and singer, I never really got into doing covers. I wanted to write my own tunes, and if I'm honest, I've never really gotten that good on my instrument, so learning other tunes was beyond my skill set. But when I met Abhai Raj, he insisted I begin to learn covers. One--because he loved them; Two--because it really does increase your skill set to learn great songs; and Three--because he thought I needed to be more humble in my relationship to my music, and playing other people's tunes was a step in that direction!
Cut to The Pearl: Maiden, Mother, Crone--Abhai Raj insisted that if I were dedicating the album to Janis Joplin then I had to include one of her tunes. Well, finding a song of hers that was elevating enough for a kirtan album was a bit of a challenge, as you can imagine. Genius, yes; Cherdi Kala, not so much! But we found an old Spiritual that she covered, Down on Me, that I liked and knew I could sing and then we paired it with the shabad that Yogi Bhajan referred to as the Victory Song for Women, I-yaanrhee-ai Man Rakha-ay Karay (sp?). When you read the translation as a Westerner you think, what? How is this a victory song? But the gurbani works on the subconscious patterns in our brains to rewrite them. So that the essential message of the shabad is what remains: Why are you looking outside of yourself for approval, woman? You already have all the wisdom within you. When paired with Down on Me, which tells the story of the disposessed, it makes a quixotic combination.
In a world where women's rights are still in question, even here in the United States, much less around the world, I hope this song will speak to the arcane rhetorical positions that keep women down even while it subliminally rewrites our subconscious to experience our own value and victory!
Story Time: The Guru Gayatri
"The woman who sings the Guru Gayatri, gains both Worldly and Heavenly joy. All earthly wealth and magical powers come to her, and through Raj Yoga she merges with God!" --Yogi Bhajan, from Furmaan Khalsa
When I went to India on my first, and as of yet only, yatra, I knew I wanted to get a Kara while I was there. I asked a few people in the community what mantra I should have inscribed into the steel bracelet and more than one person said, the Guru Gayatri mantra, Gobinday Mukanday etc., because it protects the women and increases her radiance. I will confess I didn't know much about all the various mantras and their effects yet. But I decided that sounded good.
When the vendor came to our hotel to show us the selection of karas and kirpans he had available, my eye fell to one in particular. I asked what mantra it was and he said, Gobinday Mukanday. The steel was still warm because it had just been cast that day. It was an amazing feeling to hold it in my hands and slide it over my left wrist. I knew it was mine the moment he spoke.
Later, I found this quote from Yogi Bhajan, the Siri Singh Sahib, about the gifts of the Gayatri Mantra and I knew it belonged on this collection of songs dedicated to the Divine Feminine. Yes, there are lots of versions of this mantra available, and yes, there was no need for another one; but I felt it belonged with these other sacred songs as a complete story of the woman and the sounds that elevate her identity and reality. So I've included it--an 11-minute meditation of this amazing mantra by Guru Gobind Singh, the 10th Sikh Master.
The Mother's Shabads
Last year was a poignant one for many reasons. As a woman who married late in life, it was always going to be a long shot to have a child. But when a soul came into my arcline, we decided to give it a try. We sang Jammee-a Poot Bhagat every evening and prayed for a soul to join us. And we experienced the gift of understanding that we could offer that prayer to the world, not just for ourselves. We could pray for a saint, a giver or a teacher to come into the world--and so we did! Then we spent another 40 days singing Poota maata Kee Asees. And so much pain around my own mother and the duality around the idea of being a mother healed through this shabad. I don't really have words. This shabad is the only one in the entire Siri Guru Granth Sahib that is believed to be written by a woman and is commonly known as The Mother's Blessing and what a blessing it has been to come into relationship to this particular prayer. I'm never going to be a mother--at least in this lifetime--but so much healed by practicing with these sacred sounds.
I'm grateful to offer these two sacred songs on my next album, The Pearl: Maiden, Mother, Crone. Come into relationship to the sound current and heal parts of yourself you didn't even realize needed healed. That's been my story anyway.
The Pearl: Maiden, Mother, Crone
The origin of this album's title is two-fold: it's dedicated to Janis Joplin, the amazing, full-throated, soulful but also broken singer from my home state, Texas. I grew up enamored of her power, how she just put it all out there. Her nickname was Pearl and she was a gem. But she was also damaged, as many of us are as women, in our culture and in cultures around the globe. So to the second story behind the title: when I was in my Level One Teacher Training with Guru Raj Kaur in Vancouver, BC, I was concerned that I would always feel broken, that I wouldn't be able to be as radiant as others who hadn't lived as I had, frankly, who I perceived as more pure than me. Guru Raj looked at me and said, Wahe Guru Ji Ka Khalsa, Wahe Guru Ji Ki Fateh! Your purity belongs to God and your victory belongs to God. It's none of your business if you think you are pure or not--it's God's. And because it's God's it can never be broken or tarnished or damaged; it's antar and it is unchanging; which in turn reminded me of the childhood bible story of the pearl of great price. I never understood or related to it. Why would someone exchange everything for a single pearl? But then I began to experience my own inner purity and I recognized myself as that pearl--the Pearl of Great Price. And I understand that I had been selling myself short my entire life. I'd been exchanging everything for nothing. And that's when the Teachings of Yogi Bhajan really began to work on my inner psyche and I began to truly change. This album is a reflection of the teachings, the mantras and shabads that helped me to rewrite my story and become the woman I am. I hope it serves you in finding your own true worth: the Pearl within.
Track One--Durga Mantra--from The Pearl: Maiden, Mother, Crone
Since my very early days of Kundalini Yoga, my friend and fellow teacher nicknamed me Kali Kaur. Later on in my journey, as I was editing the I AM A WOMAN collection, a student who had been close to Yogi Bhajan mentioned that he always kept an image of Durga (Pritham Bhagavauti) wherever he spent a lot of time, such as his office or his bedroom. He even wrote a poem to the 8-armed Goddess which we included in the collection. So you can imagine my excitement when a friend and scholar, Ek Ong Kaar Kaur Khalsa, found this Durga Mantra in Paintees Akhree. From early days as a Naad and Hatha Yogi, I chanted the names of the Goddess. So to find this included in our banis was a joy. . . . it's followed by my own version of the Namah: names of the Goddess from many different traditions, both ancient and contemporary.
This is the opening track of the album because it serves as the invocation. For women, it invites you into an experience with the Goddess within. For men, it invites you in to an experience of devotion, which is so vital to generating a healthy balance in the psyche of both men and women. Devotion to the Ma serves everyone, because "what's good for women is good for everyone."
In reflecting on 2014, I've tried to go back and make a timeline of all the things that we did. But none of it seemed to stick. Nothing seemed particularly newsworthy, at least as a year-end reflection anyway. When I went a bit deeper, I realized that the only thing that really had any import--to me--the undercurrent that informed much of my year ended, without ever having truly begun. Her name was Pilar. She came to me in a dream, a voice, little signs and symbols revealed over time, letting me know she was on her way. As a woman in my 40s, it's not unusual to want a child. A wish held over from younger years, a dream deferred by heartbreak after heartbreak, or perhaps just a cultural conditioning never quite left behind. Still, after marrying late in life, the idea began to knock on the door of the heart, again.
But more than knock, she announced herself. And my husband and I, we listened. In fact, we welcomed her with prayers and songs and lots of fun trying. More than one person approached me asking if I was pregnant. One person even called out across a crowded room, "hey mama!" And Pilar herself, kept communicating, kept making contact. Meanwhile, we continued praying and singing and trying.
Then the flutter. I felt it. I knew--over and over and over again. Every month. I knew I was pregnant; and then, I wasn't. Until finally in September, the flood. The flutter had been stronger than usual, that's true. But I was so accustomed to its monthly turning in my womb that I didn't really get my hopes up. Nothing had happened yet and Pilar's voice, once so insistent, had grown silent. Or had I simply grown too busy to listen? Anyway, one September evening, the flutter became the flood and I realized I must have had a miscarriage. Looking into that overwhelming red stain, seeing that edge of white membrane, I understood it was over. I knew it was done. We wouldn't keep trying. I would never be a mother. Pilar had simply been a whisper, a voice of pure love, an experience of deep healing. This isn't to say she wasn't real; it was all very real. And yet, there is nothing to point to and say, look, this is what happened to us, to me, this year.
When I told my mom, she said, "Are you okay?" And I realized, maybe for the first time, that perhaps I'm not. I haven't been able to cry, really cry, for months. Like something inside me knows that if I start, I won't stop. And yet, at the end of the day, life is good, sweet even. It's just this ghost I'm living with.