Daughters of My Heart

 All of the gorgeous smiling young women in my life.

Lauren and I at the Nutcracker



There is no cure for birth and death but to enjoy the interval. George Santayana

Any of you that have been reading my blog know one of the most significant moments of my life was when I had a very longed for stillborn daughter, 35 years ago. [see post 3/12/11] It is a cliche worth repeating; it broke my heart and temporarily crushed my spirit. I got up my courage to try another pregnancy, did it and had another disaster. That time I lost a little boy at about the four month mark. Horrible. Alas, I was unwilling to go through that again, so no living daughters born unto us.

Luckily for me, I have four sisters and a brother. Three of these sisters gave birth to my eight nieces, my brother married a terrific woman and then, [hear the hallelujah chorus,] my sons married wonderful women and those daughters in law gave birth to my two sweet  granddaughters. This is quite a slew of females, hence all of the smiling faces that you see. I'd like to point out that all of these young and older women helped lessened my loss and filled my heart with joy. I couldn't wish for better women in my life.

Because I have so many daughters of my heart it has been vastly easier to let go of the grief that haunted me for years. Sometimes no matter how hard you try you cannot replace what is lost, though many people mistakenly believe "the new kitten will completely replace the old beloved cat", it doesn't stop the grieving from the one you lost.

Forces of Nature

Alive Arrive
She arrives:
a small astronaut projected, propelled out of my womb
vibrant, lusty voiced and lovely.
Facing the world with bright eyes,
ears alert to the thunder outside our window.

Hope Cope
Enduring weakened kidneys through childhood until
the well received transplanted one I gave her
rejuvenated her body.

Grow Know
A fiery force into her teens, more scholarly than athletic
graduates at the top of her class then hits college
like a slap
erupting victorious from hallow halls--
education plus her determination abounds.
Powerfully she strides into her twenties,
always remembering us, honoring us with connection,
a loving laugh, funny stories, kind words.

Drama Trauma
Study of the fault line brought her to California,
land of dreams.
Our buddy Pete's climbing accident hobbled him,
gathering all of us to his bedside urging him well.
Pete's doctor mended his bruised body and she stole his heart.

Kiss Bliss
The wedding in July to Pete was attended by
a loving crowd of friends and relations.
Mother of the bride integral in every detail:
the elegant poi de soir gown; hand crafted invitations;
the simple, lush flower arrangements.
Father of the bride with his indulgent smile,
mocking and mimicing empty pockets,
secretly delights in the show.
He whirls and dances with glee, his little girl grown,
now wed to our friend and so happy.

Sorrow Tomorrow
She remained the small astronaut,
never had life beyond her nine months within me.
Pete did not survive his fall,
his ebullient spirit silenced at 26 years.
She can never be, nor can he.

Grieve Leave
Volcanic emotions arise less often, but when they do
they drag whole continents into the core,
leaving behind the swirling gray dust
which billows into heaven.
Susan R. Grout                         2004

I used to torture myself with the "what if's" and learned that the fantasy wasn't actually helpful. But I do love that fantasy and have been reluctant to say good bye to it. Hence, I wrote this poem as a tribute, a healing and a good bye.

Love is always there, even when the ones you love are gone. I am rich indeed with the new loves in my life.

susansmagicfeather dopyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

Feminism and Churches

Is There Any Hope for the Pope?

Ah, the Pope he wears a dress-
says he'll excommunicate
any fag who's in drag
for in his position
it's competition
and he's learning to share his feelings.

Ah, the pope he lives alone-
peons serve him on a plate,
condemns all women from his throne,
for to him it's chillin'
if any woman is willin'
and he's learning to share his feelings.

Ah, the Pope who lives alone-
has no women near his throne
so no female can ever bother
this very holey father
says it's Mary he adores
[though we've heard this all before]
and he's attempting to share his feelings.

Ah, the Pope he's never married,
disgusting thing to procreate,
children, babies make him harried,
though he needs them for his coffers
since there are no other offers
to get all the gold he can hold
and you're learning his true feelings.
Susan R. Grout               1995

A big question today, as it has been for centuries: what happened to women in all religions of the world? Why is it almost every major religion's policy is to exclude women from all the important functions of the churches? How can any level headed female today participate in a church which, for all practical purposes, shuns them because of their sex? From Muslims, to Jews, to Catholics to Baptists to Mormons, to name just a few, the treatment of women in their teachings and rules is frankly humiliating and in my mind, laughable.

Until very recently no woman was allowed on the altar in the Catholic churches, no altar girls. This has changed but priests are still not allowed to marry as if being intimate with a woman somehow makes the priest unclean. My own sainted Mother used to say, "if they allowed priests to marry they'd fill all those empty pews." She was right. And even though the Episcopalians have allowed women ministers for over a decade, and married clergy, I'm thinking they've not come to ruin.

My conclusion is that the men in charge are afraid. But of what? That women will bleed on their altar? That women will be unwilling to follow the rules that fosters misogyny and lets females be treated as second class citizens? Laughable.

What is not laughable is one sad statistic: 99% of the pedophilia in the churches is caused by men. I know that the Catholic church has gotten all of the publicity and lawsuits about the pedophiles, but truth be told, there are an equal number of pedophiles in all major religions, [see the list above] especially the ones that are fundamentalist and oppressive in their attitudes towards women. What all of the sexual predators in these hierarchies of the churches have in common is their sex: male. So remind me, why aren't women playing a bigger part in the hierarchy of these churches?

I realize that even though it is purported that the churches are all about spiritual values in fact they are also about power and money. This fact cries out for overseers.
Just as it is important for us to be electing more women in our country that is increasingly being less sympathetic to families of the poor, we also should be actively recruiting women as watchdogs in our churches. If these men want to keep the power in churches, they need to have check and balances. A good check for the males in power is to have someone of the opposite sex that can keep tabs on the emotional well being of their churches. This I realize is a grand fantasy on my part, but hey it's my blog.

So, is there any hope for the Pope?  I would bring back a Pope John the XXIII, the jolly one who opened the churches and gave everyone the go ahead for a friendlier church, more about love than money. Is there any hope for this Pope, a former Nazi
and one who doesn't recognize that value of condoms even when there is very real danger of a woman getting AIDS from her husband?  At this point, no. The Holy Father, that's really laughable.

Dante Gabriel Rossitti's St. Joan of Arc

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

The Third Chair

In this case the third chair was for me

I had three chairs in my house: one for solitude, two for friendship, three for society.

Henry David Thoreau

I have many, many chairs. So many that we recently gave away eight or more to friends, relatives and the Salvation Army, [my favorite kind of army]. This feels pertinent right now because I am in need of the third chair. After four days I am still trapped at the end of our country road with no hope of any society for at least two more days. Happily for me I have grown fond of my solitude and my home that's being organization and cleaned. At this rate I will even be filing the papers in my in- basket. Horrors.

Many psychologists contend that your personality is basically set in stone by the time you're two years old. In our family we're mostly extroverts. I'm one of six kids and I'm not shy, never have been. I'm also fond of saying "I have three siblings that make me look shy." These day that sentence could be revised because it is more like four siblings that make me look shy. As I age I have become more introverted, and quieter. This isn't supposed to happen. I think this is because my husband lives elsewhere and I listen for a living.

What wisdom can you find that is greater than kindness?      Jean-Jaques Rousseau  

As any of you know that are following the blog, I am snowed in and no hope of company for a couple more days. I desire company, or society as Thoreau would say and since I have none I have gone about making my home and my cat my company. But I find I need more. So what has happened that partially filled that third chair is my dear friend Meg has called me every day, sometimes twice daily and requested when I took off on my cross country skis to feed the horses or to just jaunt on down the road that I call her back to say I survived. I loved that. Being the independent sort this never occurred to me as a safety measure as well as a pleasure having to check in with a friend.

I learned from Meg and I started to do my own call out, and though it doesn't replace the company of a warm human body, it is comforting. Both sons, my daughter in laws, the grand kids, sisters all heard from me. Naturally I was also in constant touch with my husband as he was a bit worried about me. "Never fear, I thrive in the isolation as long as I have my cat, my books, food, water" I said. What I learned in addition was the value and importance of the voices from the other end of the phone.

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 susan r. grout all rights reserved

   

White Out

Real difficulties can be overcome it is only the imaginary ones that are unconquerable.                                    Theodore Roosevelt

If you will call your troubles experiences and remember that every experience develops some latent force within you, you will grow vigorous and happy, however adverse your circumstances may seem to be.          
                                                             John R. Miller

It is white outside. When I woke this morning it was snowing so hard it could have been called a white out. I am like a child about the snow, I want to be out there frolicking. I want to build snowmen, snowballs, sled, ski and romp like a puppy. I can't today, I'm still sick with my laryngitis and know it would be foolish. Well, perhaps only a small walk, but then maybe my cross country skiing...

I talked with my husband this morning and told him "I'm going to ski the mile out to our truck [see yesterday's post on The Balancing Act] and put on the chains so I can drive to town." "Don't do anything dumb or dangerous," he said and I replied, "dumb and dangerous are my middle names." Made me laugh and hey, I try every day to be aware and amused, right?

I've been on 'overload worry' today. First, I called Mr. G's office and his secretary told me he was at the doctor's office "because yesterday he was complaining of pains in his left arm." Ugh. That hit me right in the heart. Here I am stuck with half of a foot of snow, sixty miles, snowy icy miles, between me and my love. Not the best feeling I've ever had.

Next my doctor called me to tell me my blood results were still funny [not ha-ha] and I need to see a specialist. Seems like overkill to me when my only symptom is excessive burping---seriously.

A bit later, I got a call from my neighbor and she needed the horses fed an extra time because of the extreme weather. So I did strap on my skis and skied down to the barn. After wrestling with the hay, and providing them with some water, I decided to take a small jaunt down the road. The wind was howling, the drifts were 2 feet in some places and I didn't get very far, but I needed to do that. It was so clear and white and fresh, it cleared my head. I turned back after going only half a mile because it was ardous. So much for my bravado of "I'm going to ski the mile and back to our truck." Ha, one fourth that distance in this weather was enough for me.

Finally Mr. G called back and indeed he was at the Doctor's clinic getting throughly checked out but quickly added, "everything looks fine so far." He's having more tests  Friday and won't be home until Saturday. Good thing for two reasons. One I want to stop worrying about him and applaud the tests and two, I can't get to the truck to pick him up on Friday with these snowy conditions.

I managed to have a very good day. I made Crunch Cookies and a fabulous bread, I skiied, I played the guitar, I made "snow cream" [snow with maple syrup and cream]. It's night now and I've enjoyed my time writing to you in this blog dear reader, you are good company. Now I'm going to write in my journal, watch a movie, read my book and then to bed. Do I know how to live and show myself a great time, or what?

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

The Balancing Act

The life which is unexamined is not worth living.        Plato

The supreme happiness of life is the conviction that we are loved.  Victor Hugo

The very balanced and well loved Rufus T. Firefly

Time and the lush gift of being able to spend the day the way I want, adds a certain sparkle to life. I'm the most fortunate of women because I enjoy this gift quite frequently. For some this can only happen with retirement, for others of us it can happen every day, especially those of us who love our jobs, our families, our friends, our pets, our dwelling and ourselves. I'm not going to pretend that this is my blissful state each day because life has a funny habit of throwing enormous kinks into what we desire--to have everything go our way.

This weekend would be an example of that. I always cherish time with my husband because he's only home for the weekends and lives in another city during the week. So we have a lovely homecoming. We usually start off having a great meal and time to talk face to face and enjoy each other's company over good food. That got disrupted abruptly when my niece, called to say "the brand new baby [my great niece] and her parents were on their way to the emergency room off island." Zoom, I packed a bag. While I was anxiously awaiting whether we were going to be on the next ferry, I made dinner.

Eat not to dullness; drink not to elevation.     Benjamin Franklin

When I'm upset, I cook. Something simple? No, never. I cook something complex enough that I have to pay rapt attention to what I'm doing. [In this case it was a prawn fettuccine with a lovely cream, wine, herb sauce plus blanched and then cooked green beans with a garlic butter reduction.] Crazy? Well, for others, it works for me to roar back to the here and now. Very Zen. I wish I could report that along with this intensity of cooking which absorbed me that I was as lovely to my mate as the dish I was concocting. Sadly, not so. Can't have everything: he got a great meal but a very troubled, preoccupied spouse. Happily for me he is patient, tolerant and not easily offended. Oh, and he loves me unconditionally. He is remarkable in that he does well in the tempests of life, some of which I create. Somehow he manages despite his bifurcated life to keep things in perspective, in balance.

Know thyself.   Plato

Nothing can bring you peace but yourself.        Ralph Waldo Emerson

I have learned through a lot of hard internal and external work to create a  more balanced life. As I think I have explained in previous posts I believe that there is a continuum of people's reactions to life. Some are like calm Labs, some like amped up terriers. I'm tend to be more of the terrier variety so I continually work toward serenity and a peaceful attitude. I know myself: I'm hypersensitive to gore, violence, misogynists, racism, cruelty to animals and people, exploitation of the poor, weak and underprivileged. So I really limit the news, and topical information. I can read it, but it is hard to listen to though I do to keep myself informed. I stopped watching network news when Ronald Reagan got re-elected. [I still contend he had Alzheimer's throughout his second term.] This helps me to cope with the counseling practice by not overloading my ears and eyes. Mr. G always enjoys it when I go away because he rents movies I'd never consider watching, usually they have war in the title. War and gore-- I'm against it.

Though I was prepared for any eventuality that week end, I didn't have to go off island to the emergency room. Sadly, the baby ended up at Children's Orthopedic. We are all still very concerned but she couldn't be in better hands. Letting go is easier when the experts are handling things.

Enviable balance takes loads of practice

You have to study a great deal to know a little.  Charles de Secondat

Just today my balance got tested again, this time by a snow storm. I'm in the country, only three measly miles from town and I'm from Chicago, use to driving in the snow. So seeing as there were only a couple of inches of snow at my house, I set out. My road became increasingly snowy [6" or so] but I figured it was too late and near impossible to turn back. "Wish that I had thrown the chains into the truck" I muttered as I drove along the gorgeous road at 4 MPH. I made it up the first hill congratulating myself all the way and then when I was gently driving down the second steep hill, behold! an enormous truck was stuck at the bottom. I had to put on my brakes and yes, I did go skidding into the ditch. However, it was my great luck that with that enormous truck, helping the driver, was the local tow truck and its friendly owner. Instead of getting mad or frustrated ["I would've made it if he hadn't been in the way..."] I jumped out of the truck and promptly slipped on the snow and landed on my hip. More Lucille Ball than ballerina, I picked myself up and gave into the inevitable. I walked uphill for a signal and contacted all my clients, explained what happened, and canceled all of the appointments. Then I kibitzed with the tow truck owner [which I'm sure he really enjoyed], and he easily extricated my truck from the ditch, parking it by our mailboxes near the main road. Problem solved.

Perhaps maturity has raised it's ugly head. [I certainly hope so--I'm in my sixties.] The truck in the ditch, didn't phase me one bit. I have laryngitis today and probably should have canceled my clients anyway. But I'm stubborn and determined. If I give my word I'll be somewhere, I show up. Since I couldn't show up I walked the mile home to my house in the breathtakingly beautiful snow. A day at home with my cat, books, hot chocolate and soup, watching the snow pile up. Not too bad. It's going to be a good day.

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

Who Cares---The Double Entendre of Faith

My country is the world and my religion is to do good.         Thomas Paine

Some keep the Sabbath going to Church---
I keep it, staying at Home---
With a Bobolink for a Chorister---
And an Orchard, for a Dome.            Emily Dickinson

My business is rather humbling. Because psychotherapy deals with people and all their complexities, you can never know everything. I continually self educate: I have taught and taken hundreds of workshops, I regularly read books, journals and psychological articles. I have worked for over thirty years in this field and in this small town so I know the people and the quirkiness of living on islands. I am not a specialist, rather a generalist with an eclectic style. So I have a good deal of experience and have accumulated some knowlege. And yet, and yet, there is this quality of mystery as to how and why the counseling I do with my clients works. I can give you guesses and usually end up asking the clients, "how do you think we're doing?" or "what was the most meaningful or successful part of our therapy"? Most of the time I have internally guessed correctly, but sometimes what works is really beyond me. It is as though there is this 'synergistic other' equation that comes into play, in addition to the client and myself. If that sounds too 'woo-woo' I'm sorry. It happens and it is part of my belief system. In the 12 Step venacular it's "a power greater than myself."

To know what you do not know is the best. To pretend to know when you do not know is a disease.      Lao-tzu

One time, years ago, I was working with a man whose dear uncle had been murdered in another state. He was going to the funeral and wanted to prepare and to vent. "I need to read you what I've written to see if it's OK." Since his family was connected to a Plains Indian Tribe where the ceremony was being held, he put his thoughts down as a prayer/poem. As he read the poem he had tears in his eyes and I happened to glance out the window where something was happening. "I hate to interrupt," I said, "but you've got to see what's going on out there." By the window flew first eagles, then came hawks, and then I looked at him and said, "I think you are witnessing a fly-by." He said, "the eagle is the totem animal of my uncle and mine is the hawk." That folks, is something you can't explain and I didn't try. I still get goose bumps thinking about it.

Another time a woman who had recently lost her job, taken a medication for high blood pressure and had a very bad reaction. She was feeling "out of balance" and kept talking about it during the session. Then, and I swear this is true, out the window I saw a seagull land on the top of the telephone pole in the alley. No big deal, right? Right. Until a second seagull landed on the back of the first one on the pole. Again I stopped my client and said, "you've got to see this." She said, "now, there is some balancing act." We laughed at the goofy gulls. She figured out she had to ask for help sooner, due to that gull not to me. And the best part: I still got paid.

I want to be the change agent, the ticket agent to an improved life that is richer and fuller than the one they brought to me. The opportunity is always there to help my clients change their lives for the better or, at a minimum, slog through a difficult situation more easily. Sometimes no matter what magic tricks I have in my hat, their situation may not improve. People get dread diseases and die, friends or partners betray them, the business goes belly up.  This brings frustration and sometimes sadness into my life, no matter how evolved I am at letting go of their problems. And when this happens I turn to my church which has infinite height and vast width and enormous depth: the great outdoors. I walk or ride my bike and I say my form of prayers for whoever I'm worried about or whoever's heart is breaking. This helps me and I want to believe that it helps them too. God knows.

susansmagicfeather copyright 2012 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved