Life, Loss & Learning?

Somehow, I finagled my way out of taking Psychology in high school. At the time, I thought I was being clever. Fast forward a year into college taking Business classes that bore me out of my mind... I realize I want to major in Psychology instead.

Fast forward nearing the end of my college studies: I have one more Psychology class to take. 'Death & Dying' holds little appeal to me, so I opt for something else, of which I now cannot recall.

Fast forward nearly 20 years: Processing the grief over the loss of my stepsister, I realize 'Death & Dying' would have probably been quite helpful to me now.

The personal nature of this loss aside, the stages that we encounter when dealing with the death of a loved one are curious to me, as someone who tries to be fully present in this life. And so exactly why classes like Psychology, Death & Dying and countless others (Parenting, Learning & Memory, Checkbook Balancing, Basic Auto Maintenance, Relationships 101, etc) are simply options rather than pre-requisites to life, is beyond the scope of my comprehension.

Nonetheless, I'm not going to blame the public education system entirely.

Seems (in my case, anyway) that what we need the most is what we ourselves deny. The only way I know of to turn that around is recognize what I'm denying, and then plunge through my own barriers to uncover what therein I might have to learn.

I've got one particular experiment planned for this... While we all know that talk is cheap (mine's free actually!), I'll let you know how it goes once I make some headway (no pun intended) ~

Spencer Day & One Magical Night

The day before the 4th of July in Rancho Murieta, CA there were fireworks of another kind. But they weren't the kind that dazzle the children and frighten the animals... They were more of the subtle kind that reach gently in and stir the soul.

Spencer Day and his band (including Crystal Monee Hall) put on an intimate, generous show in a small community east of Sacramento on July 3rd. And while the acoustics in the room didn't do them the full justice they deserve, the talent shone throughout every tune.

I'm not a bonafide music critic, and I felt no need to dissect anything on this particular night. There was simply no lack of talent filling in my ears and settling in my bones.

Spencer's 3rd album VAGABOND is, to put it simply, easy listening. But there's more...

It's at times musical candy to the ears. But that still doesn't do it justice.

From fun and catchy to gently stirring and breezily seductive, Spencer's songs seem like beautifully paired remnants of a simpler time, woven together into poignant ballads of the big picture of one's life.

There's an old school sex appeal to his music - with both innocense and wisdom - that is refreshingly (and rather uniquely for these times) not in your face. There's a reminiscent quality that wafts through the room, feeling familiar and new and exciting all at once.

When meeting and talking with his guests after the show, Spencer Day himself was humble, warm and gracious. He kindly granted me this photo (even when my camera failed us), in which to me we appear more like old, comfortable friends than strangers...

And this brings me to what might be so special about him - aside from his tremendous, spirited talent - the warmth, comfort and confidence emanating from him, reminscent of a simpler time when genuineness, character and romance moved us more than brawn, scandal and speed.

Stretching Time

There's a freedom that I crave far from office buildings and constantly blasting artificial air, far from people hurling their cars faster and more furiously toward some obligation.

It's a place where things are slower, people are friendlier, the air is cleaner and the richness of life is clearly discernable.

It could be anywhere. And it might be here before we know it.

What Softens Us...

The loss of a loved one, knowing you hurt someone, a cause you feel helpless for, compassion for a friend, a moment of forgiveness... Sometimes it seems even the stars can humble us for no obvious reason at all.

I draw in at this moment because something unknown is causing me to. I stop in the middle of my errands just to breathe and process what's overcome me... But what stands out is the breeze in my hair and sun of my face.

I halt my activity for a few moments to notice something more subtle... It's like an invisible but all-encompassing ally that whispers, "This is where the magic is... in your compassion, your forgiveness, and the softness you feel but don't allow to break you."

There is beauty - not just rhetoric - in these three words:

Life
Goes
On

Happy Birthday, Cleo, My Tiny Little Companion of 13 Years!

Immortal

This morning as I sat in bed with my coffee watching the sun rise through my window, I was aware that it was a magical kind of daybreak. At the same time, I was aware that I did not have the same peaceful state within. But I accepted the rift between me and the greatness around me, all the while allowing the outer ease to perhaps soften my step.

In the most basic sense, I did not want to go to work today.
More so, I wondered of what wondrous things I might be blocking from my life.

What is the point, after all, of a life - and in this case death - if not to remind the rest of us how short and sweet a life can be.

If Kathy suddenly re-appeared, would our lives - those who grieve for her - be any different? Would we take this reminder of loss and use it to fuel the rest of our lives for the better? Will we do it anyway?

Those who knew Kathy resoundingly described her as "warm", "light", "passionate", "compassionate", "giving of herself" and "constantly humorous"... I can't even do the accolades justice. But aside from being extraordinarily proud of her, I consider the character portrait - how she lived her young life - and wonder if I am living in a similar manner.

Did she have her burdens and challenges like the rest of us and succeed in rising about them? I now have more questions than answers. But I have a hunch that Kathy's infectious bundle of warmth, dedication and lightness will never fade away... Because it is infused in each and every one of us who knew her. And now it's our turn to share it/her with the world.

In Loving Memory of My Stepsister, Kathryn J. Skhal

Today, all the philosophizing in the world won't bring back Kathy's warm heart and silly, wonderful ways.

We have the memories; Hopefully you have a fresh, new start someplace we can't even imagine.

We love you very much~

{p.s. Is that a Twinkie you're eating?}