2019 in Pictures, a Merry and Happy to All

September hikes

Happy New Year to all, may peace and blessings be yours.

Gorgeous fall in October at the Seattle Arboretum

Thanksgiving our house 2019

December with Silas and Lulu who outgrew their Nana

Zach and Anne's family at the Bellevue botanical December

RIP Kathleen 4/28/19 

Thanksjuning at Bob and Senja's in LA   June 2019

After Christmas in Victoria with Lauren and James, 2019

came home to a February storm

Kauai in Jan. 2019

hike with good friends March

Josh's family in March

Zach and Anne's kids in March

June, at the Memorial for Kathleen a small part of the family

Lulu's Step Up in June

Proposing an Idea [psss, it's 100+ years old]

Our bike group enjoying coffee in May

The creation of a thousand forests is in one acorn.                             Ralph Waldo Emerson

Snowflakes are one of natures' most fragile things, but just look what they can do when they stick together.                                                         Vesta M. Kelly

"You will do foolish things, but do them with enthusiasm."
Collette

With some gal pals

Biking has been part of my life since I was five years old. Always a dare devil child I rode early and to my Mother's consternation I rode with daring. To her horror she watched as I rode down our small hill one foot balanced on the seat, hands holding on to the handle bars, while I did an arabesque---leg extended behind me. Pay back time came when I raised two sons like myself, Josh  at 2 years old rode his trike down a flight of stairs and then at seven rode his bike off a deck. Zach at eleven was performing tricks and feats down a rocky slope, crashed and then though scraped and bleeding rode himself to the medical center. I shake my head now when I think about our adventures and thank God that we all had the good fortune to survive and never even lose consciousness.

The exhilaration and the freedom I felt when I learned to ride at five continues to this day, and is without parallel. What a clever device a bicycle is: a self propelled unit that can take you almost anywhere you want to go. A woman I know rode mostly around the world on her bike. Amazing. Then the additional benefits: no gas guzzling; no emissions; splendid exercise; and additionally an excellent chance to think with no machines interrupting you. I realize this is not for everyone, but I pity those who cannot join in the fun of bicycling.

Biking gave me my first taste of independence, and I have never looked back. In the 50's in Evanston, 'under parenting' ruled the day and I was one of six kids so we were mostly left to our own devises during the day. We went everywhere on bikes, to school, to the beaches, the stores. I am grateful for those days of 'no helmet' abandon. Then biking saved my bacon in graduate school. I used those wheels as a metaphor for life, cranking away at my studies. I did some of my best thinking while pedaling furiously. Tension, worry, and the aggravation of being an "at a distant student" [when that was a new concept], fell away as I tore down the roads of our town. It centered me, focused my thoughts.

However, this was not always the case. Once time after grad school I was preparing for a talk that I was giving in Victoria, B.C. As usual I hopped on my bike to go over all the important points in my head. Well, I started fooling around, not paying close enough attention to the road and I wasn't wearing a helmet. Next thing I knew, my wheel went into the soft gravel and when I fell I smacked my chin on the pavement.  Naturally, my chin split open and like Zachary before me, despite the gushing blood, I rode myself to the medical center. No stitches, they glued me, but the lesson was learned. I looked a sight and to my embarrassment I confessed that story to 250 people at the conference. Paying attention while biking is as important as the attention needed for driving a car.

Today I am more safety oriented and much more attentive. I always wear a helmet, I dress to be noticed. When my sainted mother voiced her concern at my safety I reassured her, "Mother, I look like a carnival when I ride." Not only the bright clothes, I have a bell, a mirror, padded pants [that really do feel like wearing diapers], padded gloves, a light on the back and I carry a spare tire. But the best news is I haven't done a biking arabesque in years. Mother would be so relieved.

Recently I went to the Strike for the Climate [and the earth] to be supportive of the kids all across America. These very intelligent young adults and children are justifiably appalled that we adults have done relatively nothing to stop  Climate Change that they will have to live with.  For this occasion I rode my bike to the Strike. I rode along side the many high school kids who participated in the march.
I was surprised and then amused when a friends came up to me and said, "Susan, why aren't you marching?"  I looked at her, smiled saying, 'it's because this is a protest, strike about climate change!  One of the ways that I support this effort to raise awareness is to ride my bike.' I thought everyone knew that we need to be doing our little parts to end our addiction to fossil fuels.  Let me recommend the excellence of riding a bike if you can here in this little snippet I wrote about biking in a lovely May morning years ago. 

On my bike in May
 Sunbathing cats languidly glance up, birds fly away as I hop on my bike and pedal past barking dogs, past cavorting lambs, past lush fields of daffodils. I shamelessly tease a clump of cows with a startling aria, laughing when two raise their liquid eyes my way. These sturdy wheels and legs carry me to work.

I wonder why the road is not clogged with bicyclists. I remember when in Holland, we saw well dressed business people biking to their jobs: women in high heels, men in suits.

In pictures from a traveling friend I see that in Africa they carry truck tires, entire families on their bikes.
I just enjoy the ride thinking as I pedal about this circle of life.  

susansmagicfeather copyright 2019 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved.
                                                                        

On Why I Was an Eclectic Psychotherapist

It is not enough to know what is right. Courage is also needed to do what is right.                                                                                   Arthur Dobrin

Kind words are the music of the world.
Frederick Faber

A very young, very dear friend of mine became pregnant by an indifferent man many years older than her. I was young too but sincerely wanted to help in anyway I could. This was the era prior to abortion being legal and there were few resources for young women except family and friends to help in this emotional crisis. Fortunately her parents were supportive to a point, they didn't want her to come back home but they did provide a rental place for her and gave her money to talk to a Psychiatrist. I dropped her off for her appointment and said, "I'll be back in an hour and a half, take care." She exited the car and walked in all by her little self. When I arrived back she was waiting on the curb for me.

"I'm never doing that again!" she said. "What happened," I asked fearing the worst. "I poured out my whole story to this man who wouldn't even look at me---worse, he hardly said a word."

And that, ladies and gents, is why I decided to not be the detached, disinterested, dispassionate therapist. His method of silence was profoundly wrong and not helpful to my friend. His inaction reminds me of the saying by Oscar Wilde, "whenever a man does a thoroughly stupid thing, it is always from the noblest of motives." I feel sure that the Psychiatrist believed that his silent and unobservant witnessing [after all it was the accepted technique] was sufficient for this young woman and he was so mistaken.

I'm getting fed up with my psychiatrist. I told him I had suicidal tendencies. From now on I have to pay in advance.
Rodney Dangerfield

Something that has always bothered me about the field of Psychology is the tendency of therapists to be evangelical about their technique that they "discovered". They swiftly publish and patent a method which, when you apply common sense and a bit of heart, is not drastically different from: good parenting; dog training; taking care of yourself; and respecting and loving others. Of course, the bottom line is profit, 'buy my recognizable brand'! I realize that's a rather crass assumption but no one will admit that good counseling has a lot of good old fashioned common sense plus a warm regard for the person sitting in front of you. It is noted in the psychologists' book on their method, that you must learn their correct, exact method and never stray from it in order to achieve success with your clients. What utter hogwash! And that is an insult to the pig.

If you are loving and diligent, you can do whatever you want.
St. Augustine

Most of us in the front line of therapy, the ones actually seeing the people with the problems, use our whole selves almost artistically in each counseling session. We use what works and what is useful, and many, many different techniques and methods. Study after study shows that it is not the technique that is most instrumental in people's success in therapy, but a warm, safe relationship with the therapist. I found this to be true early on in my career.

I started in the counseling business as a teen when I went to work with the developmentally disabled at a fairly enlightened 'sheltered workshop' back in the late 60's. They used the "reward" system with the "kids" [most of them were older than me] and I followed their system. I found my most significant rewards came from the mutual delight that the kids and I took in each other. Did the system work? To a degree, it did reduce some bad behavior. However, the joy in the kids and good behavior was most evident when they were allowed to do what they did best--play and do their jobs on the farm. So, loving these kids while learning the ropes of therapy, definitely influenced my work. What stayed with me was the delight and the insights I gained from working with these darling people.

In college I worked in a Children's Hospital as a 'Play Therapist'. That was there I learned a very hard lesson.  These children, some of them, were not going to get well and grow up. For quite awhile, I held myself back from "over attaching" and tried to keep an emotional distance from some of the sicker ones. Then, one ordinary day, a nurse convinced me to be with Arthur as often as I could. She said "no one in his family comes to visit this little two year old Buddha". He was suffering from a severe kidney disease, all swollen and indeed, did resembled a Buddha. And sweet, oh, the word was invented for him. Arthur. I not only let down my guard, but opened my heart and grew to love him so fiercely, ignoring the obvious consequences of his devastating illness. Each day he would greet me as I walked into his room with his little hand wave, his crossed chocolate eyes registering delight. He couldn't talk, just grunt, so we just held hands while I showed him toys, read to him and loved his curly head. This went on for months. Then I had to leave him for my wedding.

When I returned after my honeymoon, I walked into his room full of anticipation---- he wasn't there. I asked my favorite nurse, "where is Arthur?" and she said in a rather matter of fact tone, "oh, didn't anyone tell you? He died last week." I burst into tears, ran down many flights of stairs and never went back to that hospital again. Guess that was my version of a formal resignation at 21 years of age. It still makes me cry when I think about him, yet I also smile that I got to love such a beautiful little person. I'm ever grateful that he is with me in my heart.

"When you're down and troubled and you need some loving care,
and nothing, nothing is going right..."
Carole King

The people who come to sit before me as clients need my storehouse of knowledge and vast array of therapeutic techniques but also want and deserve to be honored. It's my job to help them feel safe and comfortable. It has been my privilege through the many years to see hundreds of people and yes, I grow to love them. One of the best pieces of advice I got on this rather mind boggling subject of respectfully loving my clients, was from my years in Al Anon.  It's called "loving detachment".

Entire fat books have been written on this subject of being able to detach, making it sound so complicated. Really, it is difficult but not terribly complex. When I was in Graduate school, I read about a workshop based on the book The Differentiation of One's Self in One's Own Family of Origin. Sounds so complicated and intellectual!  I decided, "I guess don't know anything about that and it sounds so important." Well, I went to the workshop and the author talked on and on, some of which was helpful about family of origin issues. Then it came to describing the meat of the workshop and he rattled on an on about the difficulties and dilemmas a family member faces in growing up and moving on with their life. How on earth could they be part of the family yet a separate individual. He stressed how complex this really is. Curiosity took over and I raised my hand and asked, "isn't this the exact same concept as learning 'loving detachment' that they encourage in the Al Anon program?" At that,  the workshop leader exploded!  He said disparaging remarks about Al Anon, how "they had no sense of humor." and basically berated my question as foolish.  Why the overreaction?  Really, he  never did answer that question,  he just dished out the insult.  Of course, I am putting myself in an excellent light to explain this point. Also, this is not an unusual experience for women in general. Yet the truth is the entire book could have been neatly summarized in a pamphlet. In my view this workshop was a needless complication of a important interaction we all need to learn but they threw in obfuscation and a fancy title.

Loving detachment, in case you're interested is the ability to hold yourself steady, stay loving and open, and acknowledge your beliefs, even if they are very different from your family of origin. In fact it's a mature attitude requiring practice, practice, practice. In counseling the same holds true. In my chair, I listen respectfully, sometimes even tearfully, to the dreadful things that happen to people, yet all the while telling myself to honor what is brought to me. I never have to grab it and run, or take it home with me. This is easier written than done sometimes.  I frequently make suggestions or comments.  I'm not a passive therapist as I explained above, all the while I realize these are not my problems, issues or traumas. If I kidnapped their traumas and tribulations that would be dishonorable to them and their recovery. To aid in letting go, I am fond of telling clients that "we're going to put those bad thoughts, feelings and ideas right into the Puget Sound, you can release them and breathe." And funny thing, that is just what I do too.

"close your eyes and think of me and soon I will be there
to brighten up even the darkest night."
C.K.

Hopefully, each person that I see is going to go home with a many very useful tools that will work for them when needed. One tool that springs to mind is about how to deal with worrying. I swiped this idea from an excellent source, I believe it was Jennifer James, and now it is unrecognizable as hers and is mine. This is an good way to make some sense out of rumination and turn it into a creative process.

TOP TEN FAVORITE WORRIES LIST

1. Get a pad of paper, or a journal or a sketch book and pen and write down 5 to 10 items that you regularly worry about [money, aging, kids, health, friends,etc...]
2. Make sure that you include everything that might keep you awake at night.
3. For no less than 15 minutes, no more that 20 minutes, ruminate on these items.
4. While you are worrying, write down any insights, ideas, jokes, songs, doodles that come to you in the allotted time that you are worrying.
5. Fold up the paper,  put away the journal, the sketch pad, etc. in a drawer or anywhere safe and out of sight.
6. If one of the items should creep into your consciousness during the day say to yourself, "Oh, I already did that!"
7. If it is a nagging and persistent thought, write it down and let it go, saying, "I'll tackle this tomorrow.
8. Breathe and be proud of yourself.  
9. Be aware and amused at yourself and your world and share with others.

What we all desire in life is to be loving and peaceful, delighted and fulfilled. So in my work we do repair, reparation and healing. Counseling is just one way, there are many paths to the Buddha. I got the privilege of meeting a live Buddha named Arthur and I am grateful I took the risk of loving despite the consequences.

susansmagicfeather copyright 2019 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved.

Duct tape and no regrets at all

What holds us together?  How do we avoid guilt and regrets?

I've been thinking about how to avoid regrets. I like the Al Anon/AA saying "when wrong promptly admit it," and once I learned this valuable piece of advice it resolved many of my own problems that I caused in my life. It also worked wonders in counseling my clients. However, coaxing the client to see their errors required a particularly subtle tango. First to know how far you can go with the bald-faced truth, which requires that you get to know and understand your client.  This avoids defensiveness rearing it's ugly head. Then with kindness and a generous sense of humor you might parrot back to them what they did to be offensive. We're looking for the dawn of awareness here folks. It's always better if the client volunteers, "well, I wish I hadn't spoken out of turn, been so critical, ignored my spouse, etc."  In my work with children that subtlety wasn't so important and the obvious, "how would that make you feel if this was said/done to you?" I usually cut to the chase. They would answer rather hang doggedly, "not very good". Empathy for others is the duct tape of humanitarianism.

Kathleen 2017

When someone you love dies unexpectedly sometimes this brings up many regrets. This happened to me when my sister Kathleen died in April, 2019. I went through days of regrets and feeling guilty that I hadn't done more for her. As I mentioned in another post it took talking to my sister Sally and me finding some old supportive emails to Kathleen I'd  written and forgotten about that helped assuage the regret and guilt.  Sudden death of a loved one has occurred several times in my life and seemingly the older all of us get, the more it's going to happen. No one gets out of this world alive, that's the sad truth. Interestingly, my father died also of a heart attack also at age 67 and they shared a birthday. Fate or coincidence, they also ignored the advice of many of us to attend to their health. Go for a checkup people! Vigilance is the duct tape of health.

Living life with Edith Piaf's 'non, je ne regrette rien', [no, I do not regret anything] requires diligence. It takes a firm commitment to the golden rule, kindness, admitting your mistakes in a timely fashion and being willing to make amends when you have wounded someone. Mistakes just solidifies our enrollment in the human race. Humility is the duct tape of gratitude.

Many of the clients in my practice came because they wished to do the right thing and avoid worry about a friend or loved one. They expressed fear that they would regret deeply if anything untoward happened to the one they cared about because they were unwilling or didn't know how to intervene. One of the people was "Tara"* who was consumed with worry about her son who lived in a city and was practically homeless because of his drug and alcohol addiction. To a person everyone, her friends and family told her to let him fail, "tough love" they righteously cried. Tara told me that in his case she felt that he would die without her help. "What is it you want to do for him?"  "I want to bring him here and have him live with me to heal."  This was contraindicated by my training at the time and yet, and yet. Tara described her son to me as full of humor and life and they had always had a great relationship. I told her to make some stipulations to their living together and I secretly realized that as a mother I would be unwilling to let my child just drift. Tara brought him home. I'm not going to say it was all sweetness and light but he did eventually get sober and thrived in this small town. Tara listened to her head, heart and guts. Courage is the duct tape of conviction.

What holds us together? What is most important in life? It seems to me that anyone who keeps the idea and the ability to see beauty and kindness never grows old. That beauty can be in nature, children, your friends, your pets and your mate. It also helps if, that said, one diligently works to bring beauty, joy and cheerfulness into everyone's world. You can't "make" someone happy but you can try to provide it. Generosity is the duct tape of togetherness.
On that note, here's a poem I wrote years ago and fiddled with to bring it up to date.

Duct Tape

Tomato paste is the duct tape of cooking

Openness is the duct tape of learning
Belief is the duct tape of religion
Insight is the duct tape of psychotherapy

Empathy for others is the duct tape of humanitarianism.

Humility is the duct tape of gratitude.

Courage is the duct tape of conviction

Vigilance is the duct tape of health.
Fearlessness is the duct tape of skiing
Fluidity is the duct tape of ballet

Logic is the duct tape of debate
Compost is the duct tape of gardening
Surprise is the duct tape of comedy
Communication is the duct tape of peace

Generosity is the duct tape of togetherness
Harmony is the duct tape of marriage
Laughter is the duct tape of friendship

Love is the duct tape of relationship                                               
You are the duct tape of me.           Susan R. Grout  

susansmagicfeather   2023 Susan R. Grout

Mouthing the Words

Pre guitar camp we hike

Pals at the camp help us from being in the lost and found

For the last seven years each summer two of my sisters, Sally and Trisha, and I go to a guitar camp to be together and to, hopefully, increase our skills on the guitar. Some years it is a laugh fest and almost a contest in seeing how little sleep I can get and still minimally function. Other years it is an endurance contest for the poor unfortunate teachers who have me in their class. I do learn new tricks but at glacial speed.

One of the collective memories from many of our pasts is being in a classroom or in a choir and the conductor or teacher would single out some person who was singing off key. Instead of giving them special care and instruction after the class they instead publicly humiliated that person right then and there to "please just mouth the words!' I realize this happened mostly to boys whose voice was changing register but a few girls were thrown under the bus also. This had life long repercussions and so many of these, now adults, claim they can't sing, can't hold a tune in a bucket. My nearest and dearest was among those singled out, it is a sad business. Of course he can sing and adds natural harmony to our rendition of happy birthday to the grands.

I'd like to add my vote to sometime employing this, "please just mouth the words", as a similar tactic to guitar playing that can be beneficial to those around me in a class. Example follows.

This year, because I loved the teacher and I was curious, I attended the class for slide guitar knowing next to nothing except I always loved the sound of a slide guitar.

Kristina demonstrating

My sister Trisha's  partner, Pete, was also game and we eagerly went to the first session. Both of us were impressed and fascinated by Kristina's teaching method. What so appealed to all of us musicians was Kristina had us learn to sing/imitate the sounds on the slide guitar tunes prior to playing the music on the guitar: "Walking Blues", Robert Johnson  and "Sleep Walk" by the Ventures.  I use the term 'music' with the greatest of generosity for myself because what I was producing was anything but musical. Screechy, atonal and purely awful.  I decided, then and there, rather than torture my fellow musicians that I would mostly "mouth the words"/ fake playing the guitar. I employed 'air guitar' with the eventual hope I could actually, eventually, produce the correct sounds. To my concern and surprise Kristina suggested we do a 'flash mob' through the dining hall at lunch on the last day of camp. 'Oh, no! would I be busted?'

It is a fact well documented that learning something difficult, challenging and new helps the brain from losing those precious cells and can increase the brain health therein. I'm all in for brain health so  onward I pressed.  To challenge myself further I, and sisters Sally and Trisha, also attended a song writing class with no particular expectation of actually having a finished product to perform. Our affable teacher Joe was a charming man and the consummate performer. He encouraged us first by getting to know us and then to have us tackle two writing assignments. This, I know seems rather ordinary but then what happened and came out of it was rather extraordinary. Joe wrote and sang the stanza of a farewell song and suggested the class write and come up with our own stanzas. Writing furiously, we set about to do our best shot at a melodious, rhyming stanza based on his melody and meter. Joe then had us break into pods of 3 to 4 people and turned us lose for a bit more than 15 minutes to work out only one stanza from the best of our individual work. "Hummmm' I thought as I left the room with two other women, 'how is that even possible to collaborate on a stanza with two other women?' Well I was dead wrong about that, the women I worked with Sally R. and Blair had lovely words, inspirational words and we collaborated with ease. "Pick your favorite words or lines' Sally [from Seattle] suggested and off we flew.  The next day all of the pods in our writing class gathered and talked about what we wanted for our stanza. Again, what was so impressive is how Joe gently guided us to use the best and leave the rest. This was an engaging and marvelous collaboration. What we ended up with was a charming, soulful ballad, almost a lullaby, that we performed at the student concert as a group.

I'm sure you're anxious to know how I did at the flash mob, playing [and sometimes faking] the slide guitar while walking. Great! Mainly because there were over 20 of us and the music [noise] was deafening. The crowd roared their delight and surprise. Later I approached Kristina and told her how much fun the class and our mob was but added, "unfortunately, now people will assume I'm a badass" she said, "too late they already knew that". Did I mention I love her?

susansmagicfeather 2019 copyright Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

Big Joys in Life

At our Mom's Memorial with cousins and sons

Happiness makes up in height for what lacks in length.              Robert Frost  

Happiness is  not a goal it is a by-product.                                Eleanor Roosevelt

Big question...what  currently brings you the most joy in your life? This question is best tackled when things are running somewhat smoothly. Write it down. When life is rough it's a very handy list to have.

I'm thinking about the many things in my life that continually bring me joy. Joyful celebrations, top the list I have to admit. Big or small, the weddings of all the adult children, [my sons and all my nephews and nieces] in our big family left me with great, delicious memories. All the while, at theses festive occasions, no one knows what the future holds for these young adults. We all fervently wish copious, rich amounts of happiness. Another thought, will their marriage last a long, rich, happy time? Will they struggle physically, emotionally, financially? Will they divorce with rancor or part amiably? Will they have bonny children? Will they be successful, have plenty of money, be able to own a home? Will they be blessed with a long life? Will their dreams come true? Will they have their health? None of this is captured at the time of the wedding except in the minds of those of us who are 20 to 30 years their senior. Let it be at the joyous occasion, celebrate heartily and enjoy the moment.

 As an aside, I'm so glad that our mother, even though she declared, "I'm never going to travel out West again," came to every single one of the weddings [10 in approximately 10 years]. We have the pictures of her celebrating with her adult children, her grandchildren and even being with her great grandchildren. Blessed. We also have pictures that proved she wore the exact same pantsuit to each of the weddings. Modesty and a certain, "who cares" affected her choices in attire.  Priorities do change over the years...

Kathleen 

And now I have to add to that long list of wonderful weddings, one who also benefited from them, my little sister Kathleen. We reveled in seeing each other more often especially at these wonderful celebrations. Sadly Kathleen died unexpectedly of a heart attack at the age of only sixty seven years. [If you are saying, "only 67?!', you must be youngish. Just look at the picture of her...]

One of the greats joys in my life, and this is a continual joy,

is being with my grandchildren. No one can tell you how outrageously great it is to have a healthy baby of your son and daughter in law placed into your arms. That is a dream come true for me and my husband.There are few ecstatic moments in life and receiving these four babies was definitely four moments of ecstasy. Getting to enjoy each one of them through the years and reveling in their distinctive personalities is, in short, the best.

Helena, Mt.

Guess

Included in my list of big joys, are the grand trips.  For our big Anniversary last year, we took a road trip to several National Parks, and to say the least, it was worth it every day.  We tend to travel toward the family, mostly to celebrate something and hence our grand trips are all in the U.S. Though many of our friends and acquaintances do the race around Europe or the globe to points exotic, we haven't been to Europe or beyond in 20 years. We do get to Canada [exotic, no, but definitely a different cultural feel] because we live so close by.  I am grateful that we have a chance to stretch our US mind set by visiting our Canadian friends. When in conversation with the Canadians, they do often ask, "what has happened to the US?"  Meaning: we used to be so kind and generous. "Politics--- and Russia interfered in the election of  2016", I say and leave it at that.

I was delighted to go to Hawaii this year with my sister Sally. This was my fifth or sixth trip to these gorgeous islands. Each day we choose to snorkel to our hearts and bodies content. And then we delight in all the fresh fruit, and the just caught fish. It's easy to travel with people you love who also relish what you love.

Another joy, that is continually richer over time is our marriage. Marrying someone I not only love deeply but also respect, trust and who makes me laugh every day has worked marvelously for me.

susansmagicfeather copyright 2019 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

 

Tell the Truth and Run!

Tell the Truth and Run or tell the truth and duck...folk sayings from Sweden

These phrases are some of my favorites and I used them all the time when I had my  

psychotherapy practice. Now, here's the sayings for anyone that I meet who has nervousness or concerns about saying just about anything that they believe in. Be a hero, tell the truth and work for goodness.

All of us were heartened by the victory of the US Women's Soccer team this weekend. A glorious victory from our tenacious, hard working team and we are all so proud of these female heroes. What I am also so very proud of is just this---that team not only walks, runs, kicks, their truth, they also live it and say it. "Equal pay for equal work, women's rights; LGBTQ rights, and finally, politically by refusing to go to a White House occupied by those who support bigots, misogynists, and cruelty. [below David Horsey's cartoon, 7/9/2019 in the Seattle Times]. This is supremely the opposite of what those women on the team want or stand for. They tell the truth, they deliver that truth in all ways.

It is going to take all of us to save this poor world, and I would like to plead with all of the young athletes in the US to do the same. There is no honor among liars and no one lies more on a daily basis than the current administration. 

To all of you who were touched by this scrappy, valiant team, tell the truth and run: run for office; run to volunteer your services to those in need; run to vote for morally competent people; run to vote for qualified,  competent people; run to support science and run to be a citizen that we can be proud of.

susansmagicfeather copyright 2019 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

As the Waves Settle

Trisha, Sally, me and Kathleen

Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.

 William Shakespeare

 Stop all the clocks, cut off the  phone, prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone.

silence all the pianos and with muffled drum

bring out the coffin, let the mourners come...

W.H. Auden

When people ask, I reply honestly, "I'm up and down" since the death of my little sister Kathleen who died of a heart attack on April 28th. I live in a small town so this question of "how are you doing" comes up often. I'm over the "I can't believe this happened to one so vibrant" stage and am slowly emerging from the "there must have been something I could have done to save her."

Although I know it will probably return: the guilt stage that can eat your soul alive was present for me for at least a week. It brought about many, many tears and internal recriminations.  I'd think, 'If only I was more attentive, if only I had the words to propel Kathleen to the care of a doctor'. I tried and couldn't get her to accept doctors and modern medicine as important and helpful in living a good life. This is my Super Woman complex---'I can fix just about anyone, give me a try and take notes!' 

What helped a lot was calling my sister Sally, the oldest sibling, and repeating all of the nonsense to her. I realized I was losing my role as big sister and so was she. Another thing that helped me tremendously was my slovenly way of not managing my emails. I promptly went into the 'sent' file and found two old emails I'd written Kathleen when she was at a low ebb. Here's a sample:

"Dearest Kathleen, do remember who you are! Don't dismiss all the good works that you've done by volunteering and by playing music which brings enormous joy... Then there is your art work, wow, I have loved each piece I have. Then, there is the music you have composed, it is marvelous. If we lived closer, I would be on your doorstep with guitar in hand, with food and good books to share."

What I realized from these old emails was not to judge myself too harshly, I was encouraging and attentive. Could I have been more so? Absolutely. Hence, I urge all of you reading this to be generous in your time with those you love. Share you thoughts and encouragements when they are at a low point, reach out to express how much you love them, all the time. 

Right now I am reading old letters that I'd written to my mom and dad from the 60's to the early 90's. Lucky for me my Mom saved many of them. It's been enlightening to me to remember how much I enjoyed writing about the seemingly small ways my life was proceeding and how much I loved being a Mom and an amusing writer for the recipient. More on that later but it also left me with a sadness that we all have dropped letter writing for emails and texting. I know it is a big commitment, but I intend to remedy that by, what else, writing letters starting today.

susansmagicfeather copyright 2019 Susan R. Grout all rights reserved

Sudden Death is a Tsunami

When I think of death it is never about being in shock and yet that is precisely happened on April 28. My darling baby sister Kathleen died of a heart attack at the age of 67 years. 

We got the call from my brother and I screamed at the horrible news. Then I went outside and screamed and cried some more. It wasn't a wave of grief but a tsunami that overwhelmed me and dragged me under. Grief is a heavy weight and merciless in it's invasion of ourselves. 

I figured this post was going to be a mess because I am. How can she be gone? This vibrant, vigorous, lively, beautiful sister who was fierce, funny, intense, talented and...dead.

Kathleen had the kind of high energy, Hummingbird energy, that most people would envy. Kathleen, didn't walk she bounced, she frequently giggled, her conversations were peppered with exclamations and insights. Kathleen was a life long seeker of new methods mostly to promote an inner calm and insight into herself and those she loved. In the last ten years of her life she practiced meditation each day. Kathleen was enthusiastic about music and practiced her guitar most days for a couple of hours. She became a jazz musician of note, lately playing in Memphis with two other musicians. This was thrilling to her and her "Leener and Greener" two performances are on UTube.  Not the least bit shy, one of her abilities was to perform anywhere, Farmer's Market, fund raising events, she'd whip out the guitar for a song and a tune. I'm grateful that we shared that love of jazz standards and we relished playing together. Over the years she played with many different people and loved them all. She recorded one CD with the group "For Healing Purposes Only" called "No Prescription Necessary" and in that CD are several of her excellent songs which shows off her versatility. Although it is wrenching for me to listen to it because I realize that we will never be singing together again, it is beautiful.

Kathleen, me, Chin, Senja, Trisha, Sally at Thanksjuning

I detest the latest fashion that claims people who have died have "passed on". Passed on what? Passed on where? Say it folks, say death, say dead. God knows, we don't know what happens for sure after we die. What I do know, having had a near death experience when I was in my twenties, [https://susansmagicfeather.blogspot.com/2011/03/nde-near-death-experience-and-carrying.html] is that I am unafraid most days of my own death. I'm with Maya Angelo feeling unable to let go of ones I love. This is it: the terrible and terrifying pain of losing the ones I love that I greatly fear. 

When I was a practicing psychotherapist I'd tell my clients that this fear was "pregrieving". Well the grief is no longer 'pre' it has arrived, full force. I am filled with sadness and a sorrow so big. 

The following is from a post I wrote about being rich in sisters and today I'd like to focus on Kathleen, our dearest baby sister. [https://susansmagicfeather.blogspot.com/2017/04/to-be-rich-in-sisters.html. 

Kathleen and me

Although we only see each other sometimes as infrequently as once a year my talented, sweet little sister Kathleen is a phone call away. We discuss great and grave problems, trade tidbits of information on our families and share what adventures Kathleen and her family are off to next. One year she came with Sally, Trisha and I to guitar camp and she blew the roof off the joint in her student performance. Kathleen choose to play "Afro Blue" by John Coltrane and everyone was stunned by her excellent guitar and singing. I was so proud. In addition Kathleen is an artist of note. My brother in law Steve Grout, professor at a Textiles and Science institute, appraised her work and was so impressed he gave her high praise and encouragement.

Trisha, Sally, me and Kathleen

It was always a good time when we got together and my husband and I loved being with Kathleen and her family and friends. This was an active crowd, always hiking or kayaking or tubing in rivers, a joy to be with them.

One funny get together was months after our Mother died. Our mother died seven [now almost 10...] years ago and her wish was that we scatter her ashes. No problem. "Scatter them around Bob/Dad's grave." Ah, something of a problem, not sure it was quite kosher at the cemetery. So we clandestinely entered the cemetery with our trowels, tiny rakes and the ashes. We dug around Dad's head stone and sneakily spread the ashes. In the photo above we are at the scene of the crime, not exactly skulking through the cemetery where we placed some of Mom's ashes around Dad's tombstone. Shhh! don't tell.  Ah but Mom would have gotten a great kick out of us.


Now, my fantasy is that Kathleen has "gone to heaven in a glass bottom boat" [one of her songs on the above mentioned CD] and is being greeted by Mom, Dad, the Grandparents, her pooches and kitties...It's such a lovely fantasy. I hope she is feeling all the love that is being poured out from down here on earth about Kathleen.

susansmagicfeather 2019 copyright Susan R. Grout all rights reserved.