The Robin Hood legend lives on within us all

How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world. ~Anne Frank

I have to admit something. I'm a Robin Hood fanatic. Ever since I saw the Errol Flynn version on television, lying in bed, home sick from school, I've been hooked. I went back and discovered the Douglas Fairbanks rendering. Despite poor reviews, I enjoyed the Kevin Costner "Prince of Thieves" (despite the film being dubbed "Robin of North Dakota" by critics, who panned Costner's lack of any kind of an English accent) during the early 1990's. I laughed hysterically, with my children, for Mel Brooks' satire of "Men in Tights". I became an avid watcher of the BBC television series, and loved the newest adaptation of the legend, starring Russell Crowe. Already a fan of Alexandre Dumas' Count of Monte Cristo, and The Three Musketeers, I ravenously read Robin Hood le proscrit. Whether or not Robin Hood is a person based on historical fact, a purely invented character, or a folk hero lying somewhere in between, the ideals, values, romance and inspiration never fail to capture my own imagination. Based on the legend's popularity, I can only fathom that I'm not alone in this fascination.

What is it about the Robin Hood legend that inspires us? Of course, Robin's skill with a bow & arrow, his love for Maid Marian and his loyal band of Merry Men are the stuff of dreams. But, I believe what remains enthralling about the legend is the philosophy of helping those who can't help themselves. The Robin Hood ballads, which became popular in England by the 14th century, had their basis in fact; a time of misery, disease, poverty, starvation and over-taxation to support the Crusades had left England depleted financially, morally and spiritually. That a figure, real or metaphorical, would arise to help isn't surprising. How many people, in modern times, find comfort and excitement with more contemporary superheroes, like Batman or Superman? Just like these comic book champions, Robin Hood bravely protected the weak from the strong, the poor from the greedy, the persecuted from the tormentors. I believe there lies within each us a grand desire to have this kind of loving protection. The thought that there is a person, out there, lurking in the shadows, waiting to spring forward to keep evil at bay, is both comforting and reassuring. We want to know that, even if we don't see our protector, he is out there, simply gazing over our lives and will be called to action if we are being subjected to tyranny.

Of course, there are brave men and women who do just this...in the Armed Forced, as Firefighters, Police Officers and Teachers. And yet, we know, as much as we'd love for there to be a REAL Robin Hood out there in the Sherwood Forests of our daily lives, the chances aren't great that this magical champion will hear our cries and come running if we're in trouble. The fact is, we must all learn to be our own hero or heroine. When life is unfair, when we're filled with doubts and low self-esteem, when we are overwhelmed by fear, we need to tap into our own inner Robin Hoods, draw our bows and shoot the metaphorical arrow into the source of our pain. Does this mean that we'll never be afraid again? Definitely not. We will be frightened, we will be lonely, we will feel burdened, hurt and in anguish. Those feelings will all be valid and understandable. But, true strength lies in knowing that we can experience pain in our lives, and still be able to face our disquieting situations with a 'due sense of right purpose'. Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote, "A hero is no braver than an ordinary man. But, he is braver five minutes longer."

Can we do this? Can we stand up for our beliefs and not allow the maltreatment of others, or ourselves, for five minutes longer? Can we face down the beastly Sheriff of Nottinghams in our lives with a certain strength in our eyes? I believe we can. I believe that, lying inside each one of us, however dormant, rests a Robin Hood. I rest assured that we can each become empowered to protect others. I place my confidence in the goodness in mankind triumphing over the evil. I maintain that we each contain the tools, the skills and the aptitude for making the world a better place...even if it's only own our small corner.

The Robin Hood legend is fascinating. It's powerfully captivating, it's deliciously romantic and it's strikingly relevant today. But, we must always remember not to wait for Robin to come save us. Conversely, we must take up the mantle and be Robin Hood for others.

Big Families

The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together. ~Erma Bombeck

I'm an only child. There were times when I did relish this fact. I had my mom and dad all to myself. I didn't have to share them with anybody else. We were the three Musketeers. Life was our adventure. We were a merry little troop of three. And yet, there were a lot of times when three felt too small to me. I was the only Only that I knew. All of my friends had siblings.What began by feeling cozy ended up feeling short changed. As I got older, I began to notice that no one else's mothers drove snazzy little coupes. They all drove station wagons. I saw that other fathers had their hands full with lots of kids. I became obsessed with big families...not just ones with another sibling or two. The families I came to envy were the truly large ones; the ones that other people stopped and stared at. I read, and reread, the "All of a Kind" family books dozens of times. My two favorite old movies were "Yours, Mine and Ours" and "Cheaper by the Dozen". I daydreamed of having scads of brothers and sisters I could share secrets with, argue with, play with and go to bed talking with. My imagination ran overtime as I invented these sibling characters in my head, praying every day that I would wake up as one of six children. Although, this never happened, I did come to have a barn full of horses, enough dogs to pull a dog sled and one exceptionally intelligent Maine Coon cat to round out our family. But, overall, we were a content triangle.

As a new bride, I was excited to begin our family. I looked forward to being a Mommy. I wanted to snuggle babies close and rock them to sleep. I couldn't wait to read books to my little ones. I was overjoyed to think of making Christmas magical for my 'as yet to be' children. I was ecstatic to become cookie baking, carpool driving, Little League cheering on, messy art projects mother. Still, the grass really does look greener on the other side of the fence. My husband and I were not the first in our group of friends to have children, nor were we the last. I saw the long hours of sleepless nights and understood the expenses that amounted with each baby. I also saw mothers "of many" struggling to meet the needs of each child. I knew it could be done, and done well. But, I also knew that we weren't cut out for that type of demand. Jeff and I made the decision to have two children, three at the most. We were absolutely delighted with our son and daughter, and while we were grief stricken over the loss of our third baby, we came to see this as something that was not meant to be. We understood that, for the two of us, pouring our love, attention, affection, effort and resources to the two terrific babies we had made the most sense. Our family was complete. It was the four of us. A square. Symmetrical. My military husband liked to say that we had 'man to man' coverage. We were thankful and content...and we still are.

Yet, the larger family trend has been in the news a great deal lately. The success of shows like "Jon and Kate Plus Eight" (despite the unfortunately public dissolution of marriage), "The Duggar Family", "Table for Twelve" and "Kids by the Dozen" opened up the eyes of a great number of smaller families to the larger families in their midst. News programs, and parenting magazine articles, with titles such as "Is 4 the new 2?","Megafamilies" and "Are Large Families Back?" created buzz

around this trend. Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie have made newsworthy the thought of expanding large families through adoption. My friends of many children get tired of answering the obvious question "Yes, they're all mine". I have to say that, had I not known women personally who have mothered many, I would have thought it was all a little crazy, despite my childhood fascination. As I struggled to get lunches made for school, make sure the laundry was done, cleaned the house, helped with homework, driven to hockey, soccer, ballet, baseball and sailing, volunteered at book sales, bake sales and raffles, met with teachers for both children and still tried to work on my own projects, the task was daunting. What I've learned from my Megafamily 'sisters' is that they still need to do all of those things....it just requires further planning, a sense of teamwork, and help where they can get it. The television shows, the movies, the pop phenomenon aspect of large families, in some ways, diminishes the magic of it. The women I know who live this life every day do find themselves exhausted, overwhelmed and frustrated. But, they also find immense joy in seeing the specialness of each child's singular uniqueness. These 'not for television' families are the ones who make the loving alchemy happen. These are the moms who are Goddesses. They take the family shape of triangle and square, with which I am familiar, and create hexagons and decagons.

In my yoga classes, I try to balance the male and female elements in our practice. Just as there are male and female nouns in French and Spanish, and one must make the appropriate pronoun use, there are male and female based Asanas, or poses. I try to balance the number of these to create a flowing class that will leave my students feeling both energized and empowered. The Asana that is especially popular for this goal is Goddess. It's a powerful squat with arms raised shoulder height and hands up. I've seen ancient art in the tribal sections of both the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York and the Louvre in Paris that show figures in this same pose. Initially, it makes the yogini feel strong, robust, courageous and mighty. After a few moments, it starts to feel heavy, fatiguing, sapped and burdensome. These are adjectives I've been told by my students, and have felt myself, while practicing Goddess. What fascinates me is that these same adjectives could be applied to motherhood itself, regardless of family size; we begin feeling on top of the world, yet after a while, we find ourselves weary. This helps me to understand that Ancient cultures felt just the same way we do...without the carpooling.

Am I sorry that I'm the mother of 'just two'? Not at all. I cherish my children, and I feel that the family I have is the family I was meant to have. I find myself both ecstatic and worn out with my small tribe. Do I judge people with large families? I don't judge, but I do find them curious and fascinating. I wonder how they manage it all. I respect their efforts and love to see them at work. As I find 'the road less traveled' to be gaining in popularity, I remain confident in my life but passionately curious about their other path.

And, I wish all families, large, small and somewhere in the middle, a very happy holiday season.

The Book of Lies

"....and it came to pass, when they were in the field, that Cain rose up against Abel his brother, and slew him. And the LORD said unto Cain, Where is Abel thy brother? And he said, I know not: Am I my brother's keeper?" Genesis 4:8-9

Brad Meltzer's new novel, "The Book of Lies", is a roller coaster of emotion, fast paced action, and fascinating ideas. The story, which is one third Indiana Jones, another third Da Vinci Code,

and a third part pure invention, holds the reader's attention from the first chapter onward. The plot centers around a family saga regarding the weapon that Cain used to kill Abel that day in a jealous rage in the field. This is not a theoretical or folklore recitation of what might have taken place. Rather, it's the extraordinary journey that crosses religions, beliefs, and even all sense of time to find out not only if the weapon existed, but if such a tool could have survived to the present day. Additionally, the novel's protagonist hunts for keys to the real story of Cain and Abel. Could Cain have been

provoked? How was he marked following his confrontation with God? What more could there be to the story than the 4th Chapter of Genesis alludes to?

I have a passion for archeology. In college, I considered seriously switching my major from Developmental Psychology to Ancient Civilizations. I read Homer, Aristotle, Plato and Socrates. I studied Mesopotamian, Persian, Goth and Celtic lore. I wrote long essays on the Roman contribution to the western world, as well as passionate theories of the Library of Alexandria's potential contents. However, nothing captured my attention the way that Biblical archeology did. It was fascinating to learn more about the most likely sites for Moses to have received the Ten Commandments, for Joshua to have stopped the sun's progress in the sky to allow victory at Jericho and to learn the most likely hometown of Queen Esther. Biblical archeology is different from other types of reclaiming dig sites. Why? Because the results can be explosive. There are many belief systems that find the digging of possibly sacred sites to be disrespectful of the dead. There are others who believe that taking the Bible on faith is far more valuable than finding the preaching locations of the Prophet Isaiah or Jonah's Ninevah. Additionally, since most of the Middle East is fully settled into a modern, yet complicated and dangerous, society, there aren't as many dig sites as there could be. After all.....those steps of Isaiah could take the archeology team through someone's living room.

Yet, there persists a fascination with the ideas of linking the Bible to our lives today. What better way to do this than by collecting artifacts to prove the destruction of Sodom and Gomorrah...or the Ark of the Covenant? "Indiana Jones & Raiders of the Lost Ark" captured my imagination. I was 15 when I first saw the film, and I don't believe that it's ever left me. The premise of the movie, that there truly still existed the original ornate box that the Hebrew people held the original Ten Commandments, sparked a lifelong connection to this specialized field. At one point in the movie, the villain tells Indiana Jones "to find the Ark is to find the hand of God." Looking at the story as a teen, I knew that, to hold something in my hand that was truly God given....would be the most exceptional experience of my life. Although I have never been to the Holy Land, I can easily imagine

walking around the Pyramids, exploring the hills near Jericho, looking at the Dead Sea's depths, wandering through Bethlehem and walking the Via de la Rosa in Jerusalem. It would be similar to walking in the footsteps of giants. I could only hope but imagine that I, too, was walking over the same ground that held Abraham, Isaac, Jospeh, Moses, Ruth, Daniel and Jesus. I can imagine the heady feeling of coming across a place, or an artifact, that truly belonged to these Biblical figures.

Still, do Biblical artifacts have a place in faith? One only has to look at the Medieval practice of selling 'relics' for forgiveness of sins to know that there is the potential for terrible abuse.In the Middle Ages, the selling of slivers of the "True Cross", bones of the saints, scraps of cloth belonging to the Disciples or bits of earth from the Holy Land were common place. People purchased both as penance and as 'good luck charms'. It was believed that these small relics could heal the sick, and even protect against the Plague. When the Protestant Reformation began, one of the key points to the arguments presented by men, like Martin Luther, was the wholesale trade of these counterfeit archaeological finds. Since then, proof has been shown that some saints' bones were really belonging to dogs and cats, and that the wood supposed to be the actual Cross of Christ was not only European, but probably not even old at the time of the sale to an unsuspecting buyer.

This brings us back to "The Book of Lies": does there need to be a weapon found for this story to have merit? Do we need incontrovertible proof of its existence? There is a fascinating with Cain and Abel...not only were they the first alleged siblings to humankind, but also the first murderer and murder victim. To find the weapon used in such a slaying would be ground breaking. It would answer questions, and give insights into the 'prehistoric' time in which the brothers existed. Still, is the story any less meaningful if we can't reconstruct the crime scene, as they do on CSI? Biblical archaeologists, theologians, scientists and historians have been arguing this question for years, and will continue to do so for decades. I believe that these archaeological digs provide us with fascinating views of Ancient Civilization. Having been to Pompeii, and walked on the avenues, experiencing how the Ancient Romans lived, I know that these spectacular finds can be edifying and educational at the same time. Yet, would finding a relic, like Cain's weapon, make, or destroy, my faith? Unlikely in either scenario. I believe that science, history and faith can all walk hand in hand. The thought that Troy was myth, only to proven in the last century, is the point that there is indeed fact within unproven story.

We take study the sites we have discovered. We can look at amazing finds in museums. We can learn from the Bedouins today how life may have been similar to those in Biblical times. But the rest? We just have to take on faith and ask ourselves what lessons can be learned.

Losing my voice

From Webster's Dictionary: Definition of voice: an expressed wish, choice, opinion or verbal utterance.

Have you ever had one of those mornings in which you wake up, just knowing that Murphy's law will prevail? In addition to a series of unfortunate mishaps, complications and life frustrations, I discovered that I had lost my voice completely, thanks to a rougher than average allergy season. The sounds I can make sound vaguely like squirrels quarreling in a nearby tree. Either that or my squeaks resemble a person repeatedly stepping on a mouse. My rodent verbal qualities have led my dogs to turn their heads sideways to try to understand my commands. This experience has made me wish I had taught the dogs hand signals. "Sit" and "stay" simply do not carry the same power when my Donald Duck voice is giving the order. Above all, losing my voice just hurts. My throat is very painful, and I have been living on hot tea, Chicken Soup and Chloroseptic spray. Unfortunately, none of these remedies have made it easier for me to communicate with my family and friends, as well as my pets. I have been gesturing passionately (and only understood about half the time) and using a big, yellow legal pad to write out my comments.


The sad fact is: I'm a talker. I can speak until I'm almost asleep, and as my husband can attest, I can even continue to talk once my eyes are closed if I'm really motivated on a subject. Being able to express myself has never been an issue for me. Learning to know when to keep quiet has been a much more difficult skill for me to master. Tact, listening and mindfulness are all part of my journey in becoming a true 'adult'. My father used to tease me that I couldn't eat without talking. We had experiments night after night in which I had to try to learn to keep peacefully quiet. I failed miserably.


That being said, not being able to speak has proven to be quiet different than having a self-regulated time of not communicating. I have had to learn what it is truly important. Since none of us know Sign Language in my family, I've had to save my painful squeaks for truly urgent comments, and other than that, I've had to decide if what I want to say is really worth writing down....or playing Charades...to get my message across. I've discovered that most of my chit-chat is ridiculously meaningless, and if I can hold on to my thought a little longer, I may not need to use half a sheet of lined paper to express every sentiment that enters my train of thought. While I can't say that this has been a "Road to Emmaus" experience, I am learning that most of what I say doesn't need to be said. It's a sad and harsh realization, but it's certainly been eye opening for me.


Not having a voice has also given me more time to contemplate communication. Since I can't communicate directly, losing my voice has proven an invaluable metaphor for what I know happens to millions of women around the world every day. Many women do not have the same kinds of freedoms that we have here in the western world. They are silenced and beaten into submission. Their voices, even ones that can speak articulately and from a well educated perspective, aren't valued. The poorer women simply face death on a daily basis by not having a voice that is heard at all. Their thoughts, their feelings, their very lives are considered valueless. One of my favorite authors, Khaled Hosseini, was greatly celebrated for his book, "The Kite Runner", which was later made into an extraordinary, award winning movie. But, his second book, "The Thousand Splendid Sons" relates the plight of interrelated women, and the struggles they share. They unite to find a common voice, but being heard doesn't come without grave consequences. This vitally relevant fictional story, of life under Taliban rule in Afghanistan, taught me to never lose sight of the valuable gift in having a voice that can be heard...even for things that are inconsequential. A woman not having a voice is a dreadful thing for society. The U.N. has issued study after study about nations living in poverty. The studies find that, where women are educated and heard, society prospers. The converse is also true.


Fairy tales, like Hans Christian Anderson's "The Little Mermaid, relate stories about women freely giving up their "voice". In Anderson's tale, Arielle literally gives away her power of speech to try to capture 'the handsome prince'. Yet, fairy tales are rife with women releasing their inner power, their gifts and their strengths in order to gain favor with the men whose attention they hope to capture. I don't believe that fairy tales are bad for children. They do help stimulate creative thought and imagination writing. However, I also believe it's vitally important that we equip our children, boys and girls, with the understanding of respecting the voices of all...men and women, rich and poor, from all corners of the globe. We must instruct them and encourage them to never allow their own voices to be given away to someone else. We must all remember that our opinions, our nature, our beliefs and our ideals are what make each of us unique and valued.

While I have not enjoyed my experience with the loss of my physical voice, I do appreciate the opportunity it has given me to be silent and reflect upon the voices of others. I'm only sorry that it has taken my own yammering to cease to 'hear' them.

Rainy Days & Mondays

Being a child growing up in the 1970's, I can clearly remember my parents playing their Carpenters' records. These old albums still evoke strong memories every time I hear one of the songs come onto the radio...on the oldies station. When I hear "I'm on the top of the world", I can imagine my father singing along in the car. "Close to you" never failed to bring happy tears to my mother's eyes. However, the song that seems to be playing on perpetual loop in my head this summer is "Rainy Days & Mondays". The refrain from this song is:

Hangin around, nothing do to but frown

Rainy days and Mondays always get me down....

Nostalgia can be a wonderful feeling. However, even though I can remember this song on long car trips, playing in the background of my parents cocktail parties, and simply as a piece of the memory book that creates my mental pictures of my childhood, I have to say that these lyrics have rung far too true this summer in Maine. It has rained 26 days out of the past 39 days. It hasn't just been foggy or simply disappointing summer weather. It's been a utterly, miserably soggy summer. When weather forecasts predict a minimum of ten more days of downpours, it can be very disconcerting emotionally.

What is a yogini to do? Drown herself in her swamp-like backyard? Or, soldier on and find rainy activities to keep our spirits up? As appealing as sinking up to my ankles in what used to be a beautiful lawn sounds, I vote for soldering on...and finding ways to keep my happiness factor up, even if the weather is choosing not to cooperate. One of the most wonderful ways I've found to break the rainy day blues is to switch up our usual schedule. As simplistic as this sounds, just moving around, experiencing our every day life in different ways, is an effective method for chasing off the blues. Although my children are now older, I can vividly remember swapping out the kitchen table for the living room, for evenings in which picnics are rained out. They enjoyed nothing better than throwing a blanket down on the living room floor, lighting a fire in the fireplace and creating a camping feeling by even letting the kids roast marshmallows over the fire to make S'mores. However, this last activity did require intensive burned marshmallow removal from the hearth. Regardless, we were able to break the wet doldrums, have a great deal of fun, and get out of depressing funk. We still play games in that same spot, put on music that lifts us all up and change the mood from sarcasm to sensational, on the very worst afternoons. Even if you're on your own, imagine how much more pleasant it will be to sit on the floor, eating picnic food, than to stare out your kitchen window at gray skies.

Another wonderful way to beat a case of rainy-day-itis is to create a movie festival. With older children, or even on your own, it's fun to create a Oscar nominated (or Oscar winning) film festival. We have done this with great success, and this past weekend was a bonanza of movies that were all nominated in the past year's Academy season. Slumdog Millionaire, Defiance, The Curious Case of Benjamin Button and others graced our DVD and helped us create an entertainment atmosphere. On nights that we would normally be heading our separate ways, or even just outside, watching high quality movies can be an enriching experience to share as a family...or to treat yourself with. If Oscar fare isn't your cup of tea, why not try an action packed weekend, featuring heist films, or a family marathon of Disney's best? Why not invite your closest friends over for Cosmopolitans and a "Sex & The City" retrospective"? Have fun with creating an atmosphere that creates a mood for your theme...knowing that your friends and family are just as wrung out from the weather as you are. By creating a movie fiesta, you will not only be entertained, but have a great deal more fun than mindlessly flipping through the channels. Cook treats that can enhance your theme....a Vegas-like buffet spread for an "Oceans 11" theme, canapes and champagne for chick flicks or peanut butter & jelly, cut out with Mickey Ears cookie cutters, before you sit down to a night of the Little Mermaid and The Lion King.

As a yogini, I must also add that rainy days, as depressing as they can be just as July is beginning, can be a wonderful time to deepen your yoga practice. Yoga is more than exercise. It can help ease your state of mind. Practicing at least 4 rounds of Sun Salutations can be a powerful method of getting your endorphins moving, allow the heat to rise from your belly and to create energy out of doldrums.

Sun Salutations have a proven impact on stimulating the part of the brain that helps us feel incredible joy, so the more rounds you can practice, the more stimulated that region of your brain will become...and the better you will feel. In ending Sun Salutations with Lightening Bolt pose, as seen in the picture to the left, you can channel the activity outside into a dynamic asana inside...and also gain definition in your quads and shoulders to boot. Lightening Bolt can be held for as long as your body is feeling mighty, or can done in sequential flow. However your practice finds its path, adding in elements from the 'outside in' can bring a natural link between the world outside your door, and your practice on the mat.

Reading your way through a series of books you've wanted to tackle, window shopping in catalogs, trying new recipes to cook, visiting museums, and volunteering at places like your local library (who are often swamped on rainy days) can bring a sense of vigor to the gray sky slump, too. The key to overcoming "rainy day and Monday" melancholia is to find ways around it. Shaving cream fights, water balloons (the kids are wet already!) and slip and slide in the rain can get even surly teenagers out the door and into a spirit of laughter. Most of all, take just a few moments at the beginning, and end, of each day to count your blessings. Rainy weeks or not, there are an infinite number of things to be thankful for. Gratitude can be great mood elevator....and it can also help you to see that rain, while inconvenient for our short summer season, can also bring opportunities we wouldn't have had otherwise.

The realist sees reality as concrete. The optimist sees reality as clay. ~Robert Brault

Somewhere over the rainbow....

Somewhere over the rainbow, bluebirds fly. Birds fly over the rainbow...why, oh, why can't I?

It has never been a secret that "Somewhere over the rainbow" is one of my favorite songs. Since I was a little girl, curled up on the sofa, watching Dorothy sing in "The Wizard of Oz", as she daydreamed about a place where wishes can come true. Dorothy's impression of that place "over the rainbow" for most of us would be paradise: a place in which she could feel safe from harm, peaceful in heart, loved and protected. Her imaginings led her to believe that that her excursion to "being over the rainbow", would mean that all her troubles would disappear, and where she would be happy forever. Despite the hopeful lyrics of a song that still touches my soul, the irony about Dorothy's fairy tale land was that it didn't exist at all. Yes, Dorothy did fly over the rainbow. She did land in a place completely away from all of her troubles. But, with her voyage came her old nemesis, her old fears and a deep seated homesickness. Dorothy got her wish: she flew over the rainbow. But, in the end, it wasn't the land in which her dreams came true in the way she'd imagined.

How many times have we thought to ourselves, "If I just can have this, I'll be happy for the rest of my life?". For some, that dream of "being over the rainbow" might be the perfect job, a date with your dreamy coworker, a bigger house or a newer car. I have a friend who, for years, cut all the things she wanted out of magazines and newspapers. She pasted these pictures in a scrapbook. She'd gaze at the photos of the elegant colonial style mansion, and the luxury SUV longingly. She would "furnish" her imaginary home with designer rooms from "Elegant Homes" magazine. She would glue photos of hairstyles she liked, and celebrities whose appearance she admired. She would clip out designer outfits from "Vogue" and imagine owning a handbag that cost more than her monthly house payment. My friend called this scrapbook her 'wish book', in an homage to the old Sears catalog that used to come out at Christmas time. Her idea was that she would 'check off' each item as she acquired it. The thing is, as the months turned into years, and the years dragged on, my friend became more and more resentful that she was not checking off more items in her wish book. Her marriage suffered. Her self-esteem crumbled. The wish book became, itself, an insurmountable goal. Because she had chosen to make these unattainable items, that she couldn't be happy without, her perfectly lovely life became the wrong side of the fence. Her wish book, like Dorothy's Oz, became a place that wasn't right for her. It wasn't healthy. And, it wasn't home.

Is it wrong of us to have daydreams, then? I don't believe there is anything wrong with daydreaming. I feel that daydreams are an essential part of creativity. Without daydreams and imagination, there would be no artists, no writers, no scientists making new discoveries. Without engaging in the 'possibilities' part of our brains, we would be deprived of essential thinking skills: lateral thinking and problem solving comes from the same area in the brain that dreams (both waking and sleeping) originate from. We would be unable to solve dilemmas we had never faced before. We would not be able to appreciate traveling to new places or enjoying new experiences, since they would be out of the realm of every day experience. Creative thought is extremely helpful to our society as a whole. It's the greatest daydreamers who have given us some of the greatest accomplishments. Hippocrates, Sir Isaac Newton, Albert Einstein, Benjamin Franklin, Isadora Duncan, Charles Dickens, Vincent Van Gogh and Susan B. Anthony were just some the world's greatest daydreamers....and each one of them made an indelible impression for generations after their lifetimes.

But, what about the rest of us? Since I'm neither a great artist, nor a gifted scientist, does daydreaming have any merit for me...an average woman? Absolutely...having a daydream can give hope to us during difficult times.Daydreams, if we can keep them in check, can be a healthy way to relieve stress. In Yoga, we often use a technique called "Guided Meditation". Also called "Guided Imagery", this is defined as "practice in which your imagination is lead on a particular journey with the purpose of achieving healing and realizations through purposeful contemplation and reflection." For many of us, even during yoga classes, it can be difficult to let go of our working mind. One Yogic school of thought calls this the human "monkey mind", always jumping from tree to tree, never focusing on where one is, but always on what's next to do. A guided imagery meditation might involve gentle music, and a teacher to help lead your thought pattern into a predictable, peaceful and nurturing space. Using our imaginations, we can close our eyes and transform a simple yoga studio into a lush tropical oasis, a breathtaking mountaintop, an illuminated night sky or, simply, the place that most says "comfort" to us. I've had many students tell me that, when I ask them to bring forth the image of the place in which they feel the safest, their grandmother's house is first on the list. Evoking the image of a special place, either real or imaginary, can help restore a panicked breath pattern to normalcy and can aid us in our quest to calm our anxieties. Guided meditation may help relieve suffering for cancer patients, women in labor, those suffering from insomnia and mild depression, as well as those who just need a method to leave 'work' at the office.

When I think about flying over the rainbow, I can't help but smile. Imagining a place in which all my dreams come true is a wonderful image. But, the fact is, we still have daily life to deal with. We still need to live in this world, as it right now, at this very moment. We still need to make practical plans for our future, appreciate the blessings we do have and solve the problems that come our way. Daydreaming about being over the rainbow can be fun and relaxing, but if it begins to interfere with one's daily life, that's when we need to establish a firm grasp on what we're evading. Do we really hate our jobs? Are our children driving us batty? Do we have too little money, and too many bills? These are real issues facing most of us. Daydreaming isn't going to solve our issues. As a matter of fact, if we daydream too much, we may find our problems to seem even more insurmountable...just as Dorothy did, when she felt she had to run away from home to keep Toto safe. By working on creative problem solving techniques to work through these issues, as best as humanly possible, our stress level may also go down. Talking about methods to combat my dilemmas with my friends has been incredibly beneficial to me. In my life, my girlfriends often 'see' answers where I am missing them.

The simple fact is, daydreaming is healthy, beautiful and wonderful. It's part of the human experience. Yet, when it comes right down to it, 'there's no place home'...even if home means a busted water heater and an unstable economy. Home can still be two things at once: our sanctuary from harm and a place that holds mountains of laundry to be washed. If we can reconcile these two places within ourselves, we can live fully in reality, but with a creative imagination.

Namaste.

(And for further inspiration, click on the TITLE..."Somewhere over the Rainbow" at the top of this post, to listen to a beautiful rendition of the song...)

Letting go of labels....

When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.-- Lao Tzu

Coming of age during the 1980's was an interesting period of history in which to discover who were as young adults. The classic John Hughes movie, "The Breakfast Club", gave us modern archetypal images presented in pop culture form. Portrayed brilliantly were the Prom Queen, the Jock, the Nerd, the Bad Boy and the Outsider. Each character wore his, or her, role like a costume, or even a second skin. Each actor effectively drew us into see that how each teenager viewed himself, was how he portrayed himself to others. And yet, through the process of self-discovery and the discovery of those around them, the characters were able to shed those labels and to realize that each one of them was far more than the labels they gave themselves...and enacted in daily life. As each character was able to release, layer by layer, the walls she had built up around her, protecting her image, she was able to discover far more about her own potential than she had imagined.

Far too often, we're guilty of this as adults today. We label ourselves with ease: Mother, Teacher, Father, Coach, Sister, Banker, Introvert, Asthmatic, Grief stricken, Salesman. We apply labels that can refer to our station in life, our relationships, our careers, our emotional state of being and our immediate circumstances. Not all labels are negative! In order to define our place in our own world, we need to know where we are at this very moment. We find comfort in being able to describe ourselves at parties as "what we do", by "whose parent we are", "whom we love" or "what our goal is". This type of labeling of ourselves can be extremely reassuring. We are positive of who we are at this very moment, in this very circumstance. With that certainty can come a sense of belonging. Even if we describe ourselves in somewhat negative terms, we still derive comfort from being certain of our place of being.

A few years ago, I had several friends all experiencing painful, heart breaking and spirit crushing divorces at the same time. As much as I tried to assist my friends in seeing them for the beautiful, talented and extraordinary women I knew them to be, they assigned themselves the labels of angry, bitter divorcee, unloved & unlovable woman, and single mother. These labels they clung to were understandable given how much pain they were in. These women were forced to come to terms with a side of life they had never planned on seeing. As someone who loved my friends unconditionally, it broke my heart to see these women limit themselves, and their potential for a fuller life, held back by the labels they were living out. And, yet, those labels were a necessary part of their growth process. In order to move forward from their broken hearts and upended lives, they had to live out being the labels they chose, in order to break free from that mold. Labels do not have to stay with us forever. For most of us, they are a time of learning...a place to 'rest' and establish where are, before we can let go of them to move forward.

One of the most rewarding aspects of my friendships with these three women has been watching them shed those skins of bitter divorcee, let go of their anger, and create magical new lives for themselves. Each one, in various ways, realized the limitations of the labels they had given themselves. Each friend began to see her own life being limited by her anger, her hurt, her rage, her fear and her crushing of her own spirit. Each one came to realize that her life was worth far more than allowing her divorce to determine the course of the rest of her life. Each one began to dig deeper, excavating the journey she wished to take. Ultimately, each woman saw her label of her post-divorce image as being self-limiting, and did not attribute that limiting force to her ex-husband, but to her own beliefs about herself.

At some point in our lives, we are all going to experience a time in which our conceived notions of ourselves are challenged. A job will end. Children will grow up and move out of the house. We lose someone we love. We will move. Simply put, a chapter in our lives will come to an end, challenging us to take a hard look at who we are, and force us to investigate the labels by which we have defined ourselves. This is not an easy process. Even if we aren't happy with the label by which we have built our self-image, who are we, if we aren't that person? One method to help in our growth process is journaling. Keeping a simple notebook by the sides of our beds, in our desk drawer at work, in our purse or anyplace within arm's reach can help us to write down our thoughts as they come up. By writing out our thought processes, positive or negative, we can begin to review them, analyze them, learn from them, and if possible, release them. Just as we need to release anger before we can forgive, we need to release our self-prejudices before we can begin to grow. Getting our thoughts on paper, just for our own benefit and review, can teach us a tremendous amount about where we've been, and where we hope to go in our lives.

As we explore the labels we have given ourselves, we may find that there are far more layers to each one of us than we ever anticipated. We may discover that, lying within each of us is the beauty of the Prom Queen, the confidence of the Jock, the acknowledgement of intelligence of the Nerd, the free spirit of the Bad Boy and fears of the Outsider. By acknowledging each part of our very being, we can move onto something far grander and far more meaningful than any one label.

This Old House

When Jeff and I were very young newlyweds, we used to love watching "This Old House" on weekends. In the days before cable was widespread and new channels, like "HGTV" and "The Travel Channel" sprung up, we'd live vicariously through these occasional glimpses of historic restoration work on PBS. We would see, week by agonizingly slow week, the painful renovation of an old barn into a beautiful home, and imagine that we, ourselves, could undertake that wonderful journey ourselves. I fancied myself an amateur conservator, if we could find an old barn to restore ourselves, and to create a magical sanctuary, from what was once forgotten and decay.

In addition to an unrealistic and ill-advised passion for old houses, I've also always loved Scotland. The idea of it, the "William Wallace" soul of bravery, and the sheer beauty of the place have forever ignited a passion and a connection to this special country. One of my father's dream trips, that he was never able to take, was to go to see the Scottish Sheep Dog (Border Collie) trials. A lifelong love for this breed, and what these amazing dogs could do instinctively, led him to own two Border Collies over the years. But, he always wanted to see their amazing displays of prowess in Scotland. I just loved the romance of the land...even if I do have a long standing fear of Haggis. (Google it...not so appealing as adorable dogs and castles).

These two loves in the abstract sense, that of restoring an old house and that of Scotland, came together in Belinda Rathbone's memoir, "The Guynd". In this very readable story, Ms. Rathbone recounts her transformation from single New York City writer to life married to a Scottish laird. In her story, she writes "I knew that the house came with the man...or the man with the house." The Guynd (pronounced to rhyme with wind, especially fitting since it never stopped blowing) was a decripted, sprawling, mausoleum of a manor house, with 300 acres of former gardens and land...now all gone to seed, both the house and the land itself. Ms. Rathbone's discoveries in long forgotten rooms, outbuildings, basements and attics lead to her own passion for the estate, and for its restoration. She learns the vast history of being part of such a long lineage of homeowners, but more importantly, she learns that the history is more important than the present to her husband. Her painstaking care of restoring the gardens, and creating liveable family spaces in the house itself, are meticulously, and hilariously, described. In the end, neither her marriage, nor her never-ending 'to do' list survive, and yet, Ms. Rathbone's journey and adventure seem to have been an end in themselves. I admired her story. However, it also made me appreciate not having to live it myself.

While I still have my admiration intact for Scotland and historic preservation and renovation, I have come to realize that I may not have the chutzpah for a major overhaul on a property. Whenever I point out a great old house for sale, Jeff kindly reminds me of the 1980's movie, "The Money Pit". Still, when we're at Home Depot, he drools over tools he'll never need in our 1992 contemporary. I have grand dreams of a breathtaking restoration on a home that had historical significance in the Revolutionary War. Jeff has grand dreams of sheetrocking without any visible seams or being able to reroof our entire house himself.

Somewhere in the middle, I'm sure, lies our next great project. Maybe it will be historic. Maybe it will just need a fresh coat of paint. Maybe the universe just wants us to take care of what we have now. No matter what, sometimes it's a great deal more fun to dream of the next "big thing" than to actually live it.

"It's when you're safe at home that you wish you were having an adventure. When you're having an adventure you wish you were safe at home." ~~ Thornton Wilder