You have so much to offer the world -

Organized religion and the philosophy of eternal progress can really f* with a person. Nearly every day of my life as an adult I have asked myself - what more can I do? What more can I be? Am I being enough? Am I doing enough? What is my purpose? What more do I have to offer? It's always "more," not ever "enough." Always "do," seldom "be," seldom "listen." 

"Oh Ronda, You know better; you have so much more to offer, there are people who need you, be the change, be the voice, we need you, I need you, the world needs you. You're a strong woman, time to step out of the shadows and into the light." 

Shit! That has been freaking exhausting - to go from shadow to light to shadow to light, always guessing, always wondering if I'm doing "it" "right," with typically patriarchal/male direction and a disregard for feminine energy and direction. Some days I am just shape-shifting - going from one truth to another, based on societal implications. 

Again today I stopped and listened, and I thought, "What if I don't want to change? What if I don't want to grow? What if I want to be happy with who I am, where I am, what I have?" ENOUGH, NO MORE. 

I've been working hard most of my life to "be the kind of child, daughter, woman, mother, wife, employee the Lord/boss/management/students want you to be." And that's been fine when I've had to fit in. Yet, yuck! What about the me I want me to be? Free from societal expectations, safe in my own skin and thoughts, space, and comfortable, yes, comfortable with where I'm at - right - now. 

And maybe I'm feeling this more powerful today because I again question myself - am I all I should be? Is there more I can be doing? What is my value? What is my story? Where do I want to be? Am I safe with my thoughts in the space I'm in? 

This came over Instagram today, and a colleague sent it to me. It gave me tears - thinking, "Yes, now's the time." And then I felt overwhelmed, sad, resigned. And then I was pissed - another time a man is telling me who I should be, that I'm needed, how I should behave, what I should "do," always from a male perspective.  

Ultimately, this is what truly speaks to my soul - from woman to woman, a gentler approach. 

Zucchini, Flowers, Herbs

Cruisin' - to the British Isles -

We did it, we went on a 12 day British Isles cruise the first part of August. The travel agent who assisted me with our 3 week retirement journey last year, reached out last February with this opportunity - a cruise to the British Isles going where we’ve been before and traveling to new places as part of a group of 16 on Celebrity Eclipse, which holds 2500 guests and about 1100 staff.

We planned and packed, deciding on land tours, and trusting in our travel experience and the cruise experiences of others to get us prepared. 
We decided to lightly pack two bags each and our carry-on, since we wouldn’t be carrying our luggage from place to place, and since we had a direct flight.

We had a direct flight from SLC to Amsterdam (fanatastic) which was our first stop, and we ran from checking in at our motel to Winkel’s to have the best apple cake on the planet. Getting to and from was disastrous - pride celebrations were rich and the streets were overflowing with celebrants, including a guy pissing over the bridge, nearly hitting out boat while we did a canal tour. Lots of dinking, lots of color.

Sunday morning we repacked and headed to the ship to check in. No big deal. We found our room on the 10th story with the captain’s observation deck right outside of our window. One morning I walked out onto our veranda, not fully clothed, and was greeted by a few men in uniform looking out from there perch. Lesson learned.

Our room was just the right size, a comfy bed, veranda with two chairs and side tables, where we spent quite a bit of time. We also slept every night with that sliding door open- true ocean sounds and breeze are magical (coming home to our white noise ocean sounds was rather disappointing).

We had a dedicated housekeeper, Marie, a woman from the Philippines, who worked for 8 months, then returned home to her two children and her sister who was raising them.
All staff was incredible, with all of them being from outside of the USA. My one word of advice is that all customer

-facing employees should be trained by this cruise line. Just the most amazing people.

Without supplying a play-by-play travelogue, we spent time in:

                                                                       

 Dover, England

                                                        

Waterford, Ireland

Cork, Ireland and the Blarney Castle

                                         

Liverpool, England

Belfast, Ireland and the Titanic Museum

                            

Glasgow, Scotland 

and former student and friend, Andy Sherwin

Fogged in through out our journey to Inverness,missing the long-awaited desire to see the coast and islands to the south and north of Inverness.

                                                                        

Inverness

                                          

Back to Amsterdam and home, gone a total of 14 days.

What I Learned on my Summer Vacation (Interestingly, I wrote to this same title 22 years ago.)

There were 16 of us in our group, half of them knew each other to some degree.
Scott was the oldest, there was us and two other couples, one we did some meals with, the other brought their son, and she was one of Natalee’s assistants. Several of the group worked for an insurance company, knew each other, two early 20's sisters, a mother and daughter, and another lady.
We came into this totally looking for an adventure and new experience. We also had seen several of these places, so we thought this would be a good first cruise. We typically travel f 10 days to two weeks at a time, so the length wasn’t a worry.
There was lots of alcohol, and I worried this might be too much for Scott, and although he did comment on it a few times, it did not stop him from participating in anything. He drank lots of juice and water!

Food was good, and we didn’t need the fancy dining package. Laundry service was great, and yet it sure would have been nice to have had an iron. I won’t pack linens or other clothes that over-wrinkle or need to be line-dried, on our next cruise. I’ll also pack my hair straightener, I got tired of fighting my curls in a clip or ponytail.
We thought we had a drink package, but that fell through, and we needed that for even soft-drinks and decent juices, otherwise $5 plus auto 20% tip gets pretty expensive every time I wanted a Diet Coke (Pepsi is not to be found).

We didn’t have internet, which was nice, and yet I was able to send and receive texts. That was good with a couple of clients in crisis as well as wanting to support Cliff and Jenna with Annette’s death and services. I was able to help without feeling put out or drained. Proof to me that I’m loving what I do and don’t see it as an interruption.
It was nice to not watch the news, and once I got over the Las Vegas superficiality, I was able to enjoy the evening shows and music.

Our time on land was short, and not all the tours were ones we fell in love with. We learned that there are typically cab drivers at all ports who will take you wherever you want to go, and that will be a good option to have.

Because we came on this trip knowing no one, we could be whomever we wanted to be, and for us that was our authentic genuine selves. Scott got to be the happy adhd extrovert who had lots of opinions, lots of love, lots of awareness, lots of elbow slaps and side hugs, and never on the defense. The people in our group and our staff loved his kindness and generosity. I loved watching him be true with no need to be defensive about anything and no reason to bring up anything that could be divisive.
I, on the other hand, got to be a true introvert. I watched, joined in when I wanted, was kind, and yet didn’t feel a need to participate or be a part of the group. In fact, there were a couple of days when I needed less noise, less chatter, my alone space. And I had it. There were times when I wanted to go past chit chat, but then times when it was such a relief to not go deep.
One time Scott and I made the best extrovert-introvert team and our strengths really shined and benefited several people on the team. He caught the situation and pulled me in to have the deeper conversation. It was beautiful.
We really did love being together, and spending this two weeks in a totally new world, with neither of us the experts, gave us level playing ground, and it was delightful.
Another thing I observed was that we were living in the moments, and I can’t remember the last time I was this present, living moment to moment, only worrying about setting the alarm for the next morning’s tour. I didn’t worry about getting us to the next place, where to eat, if our room was going to be ok, etc. And while I didn’t love all the tours, I loved just being! This happens, to some degree, when we're in Hawaii, but this cruise took it to a whole new level. I had to trust in the work and experience of others, because I knew absolutely nothing, and gosh that felt good.

We learned that being with a group can definitely slow the group down, always waiting for someone, and yet it was fun to learn about others and laugh and support each other. We had a fantastic group, and our host did a good job of putting this bunch together. I can only hope it will be so next time.

Speaking of next time, will thee be one? We missed our independence - wandering, darting down a road, being alone. We missed not having more time inland - talking with locals, getting lost and finding amazing places, eating local food, being outside of tourist areas. We had a very tight window of time, being back of the ship most afternoons by 4:30, and we didn’t really need that much time on the ship.
However, the freedom we had from some of the clunkiness of using local transportation and meeting time-tables, toting luggage, unsure if our lodging was going to be good, and finding places to eat was wonderful. Plus, I would never ever drive in Great Britain. 

So, we have one more cruise in us, this one to the Mediterranean. Perhaps next year.

We have a little more international travel on our list, but I think we can drive these places. We also have so much to still discover in the USA, and we’ll fly and rent a car.

Our cruise was not cheap; for the two of us with flights to Amsterdam at about $3000, lodging there at $400, transportation and tips $300, cruise at $3000, cruise incidentals $200, and then spending money $3000, tours $2000, we hit our yearly travel allowance of $10,000 quickly.

And we still have two weeks in Hawaii coming up!

Art Imitating Life -

 There are three paintings that have had more impact in me as a woman, mother, grandmother than all other art. Interestingly, two come from the New Yorker, the other from James Christensen. 

I madea fabric version of the The Responsible Woman by Christensen, calling her the Burdened Woman; I've kept the "cartoon" by Shanahan in my night stand, and the New Yorker cover from May, 2000, in my office. All representing various elements of womanhood, all me at several times in my life. 

No further explanation needed. 

New York Times - Faces of Breast Cancer -

 I was at my daughter's house last night, and in the midst of celebrating a grandson's birthday, my granddaughter decided she needed to clean her bedroom (which was definitely the truth). As I was helping her find the floor in her room, she had tucked away in a basket with "important things" an article from the New York Times, printed in 2013, titled Faces of Breast Cancer. The cover page had pictures of several women in various stages of breast cancer treatments and healings. The photo of Tempest and me, taken by friend Nick, was on this page. 

I came home and found it online, with several others stories as this section grew. 

Enjoy - https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/projects/well/breast-cancer-stories/stories/589 

Friday, June 13, 2003 -

 Friday, June 13, will always be a lucky day for me. It is the day I began my journey of self-discovery and self-love. 

Newly graduated from Utah State University, I went to Crisfield, Maryland, with a group of about 20 people from a variety of backgrounds, to do research on this maritime community. Our assignment was to capture a snapshot in time of this area through photography, interviews, and our own experiences in the area, for the Smithsonian's Folklife Center. 

Crisfield was once considered the crabbing capital of the world, and with lots more imports, this industry was declining, hence so was the community and the ways of the crabbing culture. I've written about this several times on my blog. 

I made amazing friends, learned to love the comunity, loved the land and the water, and came home, three weeks later, a totally changed person with confidence, humility, and skills that have benefitted me to this day. Three weeks was all it took to put me on the trajectory to being me. 

I will always honor and cherish this time, the people I worked with, the people of the community, and those who made this possible. I'm reaching out in the best way I know how, to give my love to those who helped me learn to love myself. 

To Polly, Kristi, Tim, Brad, Dan, Rosemarie, Roberta, Maria, Jennifer, Gracie, David, James, Lora,     and others: 

May you be happy, may you be healthy, may you be safe, may you live with ease.

Holy Places -

As I sat through our worship service on Sunday I so wanted to feel the holiness I had felt the previous two days, and yet there was nothing. I felt the cold metal chair, heard the chatty children, listened to a couple of folks testify (or brag), and watched the time slowly tick away. As disappointed as I was in the service and my lack of any reverential thoughts, I was grateful for the time I had just spent with my sister visiting family in Southeastern Idaho. 

This space is holy to me - wide open fields with blue skies and white puffy clouds. A small breeze and a view for miles, stopping only at the Idaho side of the Tetons. My sister and I drove to Rigby for a cousin's funeral. The setting - the green green green of an Idaho spring - pines with yellow buds, cottonwoods beginning to share, crops peeking their baby green heads through the deep rich and newly furrowed soil, and water - water running down open ditches and canals to irrigation pipes and sprinklers that guarantee this cycle of growth and green continue. Holy ground. 

We visited Julie, 68 yrs old, cuddling with her fiance (first marriage for her), playing online Yahtzee, in her tiny apartment, and their love was strong, and the place holy. 

Aunt Marilyn's house was next, and even being multi-generational full, pets included, they were all happy, the dogs friendly, and the conversation genuine. Holy. 

We visited three cemetaries, and although I don't "feel" my people in these spaces, I honor these grounds for holding their physical'ness, for marking their spots with their names and those of their posterity. A holy place. 

My cousin's graveside service was tender, and of course, always there for the living. In a circle with cousins after Amen, we shared real talk, Idaho talk, and ask questions that one can only ask and answer in a safe holy space. And lunch, with family I see so infrequently, yet recognize as mine, again caring conversation and laughter with people who are mine, where holiness and sacred talk stays there, because the meaning lies in that setting, too sacred to take elsewhere. Holy space and place. 

On the drive home that Saturday afternoon, while conversing with my sister, I heard, "You are standing in a holy space." Uninterrupted, unfiltered time with my sister, conversation that moved from light to deep to children to parents to art to work, to secular to sacred. Holy indeed. 

For me any space, when occupied by those who are also witnessing the holiness, can be sacred. And I am always grateful to be blessed in these holy places. 

Names on the back of my parents' grave marker - we are the next-in-line. 

Aunt Carrol and Cousins

Loving the Lesser - A Year Retired -

 Happy one year of "retirement" anniversary, and with that has come a year of reflection, reevaluation, remembering, and a butt-load of other "re's" that have truly helped me heal and move forward. 

First and foremost - I am not retired! I did retire from Intermountain Health as a healthcare chaplain, and yet I'm working about 3 days a week with my counseling practice, which I love. This was my intention all along; however, I think when many of us hear "retirement" we think of no longer bringing in an income, no longer working. I can't imagine not having my practice - some way to bring in income, of course, moreso as a way to continue to reach outside of myself, help others, and interact with others. My Pastoral Counselor certification has served me well in this adventure. I love what I do. Wren House is going strong, something of my own. 

And I've spent this past year healing - not necessarily from strictly work stress, but from thirty+ years of "go, be, do" seldom making time to reflect. Always moving forward, never looking back, and now, suddenly having the time to do so. I stopped with my 50 hour a week push, and all of my past came slamming into me. I have chosen to turn around, look at so much of this unaddressed trauma, change, "mission, vision, purpose, value," of my lives and acknowledge them. 

What does this mean? From getting married at 2 weeks 19, to rearing children, to living in Alabama, moving back to Utah, getting my higher education - and the huge commitment that was, reflecting on loss, transition, divorce, remarriage, careers, deaths, family - parents and parenting, siblings, friends, community, all the tangible things. Along with the intangible - identity, voice, spirituality, beliefs, perspectives, perceptions, value, intention, talent, love, vulnerability, compassion, regrets, questions. Spending time being, rather than doing, and doing so intentionally, has been my focus - taking these slow, resolving my weaknesses and my strengths, inhaling and embracing all of me, and deciding how to proceed. Reaching out to that tangled past and reaching in to the places and spaces it will call home. 

When I retired I made a decision that I would not take on anything new, or do anything radical, for this first year (something I highly recommend anyone who has had a loss, of any sort, do). I haven't needed anything new on my plate until I've resolved what has been unresolved. Or better yet - learning to love my shadows while also learning to love my light. 

(I just shared with my sister - processing, and then putting that into words, is exhausting. Being is so much more work than doing. And yet I'm finding great comfort in sitting with. I am grateful for the
processing time, and for the writing process.)

And while I could write a post about each of these paragraphs, each of these items, it is this poem by Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer, that hit me hard and speaks to this past year's work, truly, my focus of these past 12 months; to love the exiled parts of me, and in doing so, to love me. 

Loving Our Exiled Parts

I’m sorry. I thought banishing you   
was the way to become better,   
more perfect, more good, more free.   
The irony: I thought if I cut you off  
and cast you out, if I built the walls  
high enough, then the parts left would be   
more whole. As if the sweet orange   
doesn’t need the toughened rind,   
the bitter seed. As if the forest  
doesn’t need the blue fury of fire.   
It didn’t work, did it, the exile?   
You were always here, jangling  
the hinges, banging at the door,  
whispering through the cracks.   
Left to myself, I wouldn’t have known   
to take down the walls,   
nor would I have had the strength to do so.  
That act was grace disguised as disaster.   
But now that the walls are rubble,  
it is also grace that teaches me to want  
to embrace you, grace that guides me   
to be gentle, even with the part of me   
that would still try to exile any other part.   
It is grace that invites me   
to name all parts beloved.  
How honest it all is. How human.   
I promise to keep learning how  

to know you as my own, to practice  
opening to what at first feels unwanted,  
meet it with understanding,  
trust all belongs, welcome you home.