ORIGINAL BLISS

A Light in the Dark

 

I have been holding this as an affirmation for the past couple of days. Trying to hold the vibration of love while surrounded by lower vibrations of fear and hate...trying to remain a light in the midst of darkness.

As a 911 dispatcher, I interact with humans when they are at their worst. They are hurting each other, they are under stress, and they are angry. I mediate conflict.

If you suspect that the world has gotten more a bit more hostile in recent years, you'd be right.

My coworkers--fellow dispatchers and police officers--deal with this new world disorder as best they can. But besides the public chaos, we also deal with internal disorder: short staffing, 12 to 14 hour regular shifts, and overtime days. It takes a toll. Morale sinks and darkness invades the work environment as well.

Most of us have forgotten or don't even realize we are Lightworkers. We are healers. We get so caught up in the negativity bombarding us, we become as unloving as the people we are trying to serve.

I know I am a Lightworker. I know I am called upon to use this gift in the war zone, where darkness reigns.

I wish I could say I have mastered my abilities to hold light and love in all situations, but I haven't. Sometimes I only have enough love and light to sustain myself through the day. And sometimes I don't.

Sometimes the darkness I am processing gets stuck and I am crushed.

Some would probably tell me I should stay detached, keep better boundaries, not let it get to me. But then my heart would feel hardened... And love and light cannot flow through a hard heart.

Sometimes I think I should not be here anymore, that I can't do this job anymore, that I should do my healing work in a kinder environment. And that may be what has to happen for my own well-being.

In the meantime, while I am trying to find my place in this world again, I am going to keep calling on the Light.

Namaste,
Shannan

 

Our Hearts Bleed for Love

"Our Hearts Bleed for Love"

Soul Journal Page 2009

 

"Women are born incurable romantics. Plumb the female psyche and you will find an elegy of romantic remorse. Meloncholy fragments of unrequited love stretch from our cradles to our graves.

Regrets not neccessarily caused by lovers who chose to live without us, so much as the recollection of things we loved once, but learned to live without.

Life is supposed to be a romantic adventure.

Is yours?

Didn't think so.

There might be a few things in a woman's life that a romantic interlude won't cure, but I don't know any of them."

Sarah Ban Brethnach

"Something More"

Valley of the Shadows

Trying to recall the moment I lost my Self.

Was it back during the awkward days of puberty when I sacrificed pieces of myself to be more like my peers?

Was it when I gave birth to my children and gave up my dreams in order to provide stability and security for them?

Was it when I began a career in a profession I was capable of but didn't love, and began going through the motions in exchange for a paycheck? 

Was it during each of of my failed relationships when I abandoned my needs in order to fulfill my partner's?

Was I ever a Self?

Do I have a Self to find?

Maybe she is in there somewhere...lost in the Valley of the Shadows of D... Disillusionment, Denial, Despair, Deep Dissatisfaction and Death--Death of the self that isn't my Self.

I reached the tipping point in April of this year when I fully arrived at the mid-life pinnacle and crossed its border. But turning 45 wasn't the beginning of a leisurely descent. It was a cliff.

Suddenly, I can't see. Well, I can. But only in the posture of the middle aged.

My arm only extends so far!!!! And it's fucking embarrassing trying to read your iPhone from 3 feet away.

I can't sleep. I'm my grandpa, waking up at 4am, contemplating taking a walk to the donut shop.

I can't remember for shit.

Like what I ate for breakfast.

That was only an hour ago.

Oh yeah, I DON'T EAT BREAKFAST!

I have to make lists. I used to be able to manage every single thing in my life and my partner's and my children's all in my head. It has to be on paper now. And I forget to do that!

Worse, I don't give a shit. I'm like, "Fuck it. I don't want to do that shit anyway."

And not just the shit on the lists I forget...even the shit I used to LIKE to do before.

I lost desire and drive for the things I used to love. Or thought I loved, but don't really know if I love anymore.

I am frustrated and confused.

But mostly, I'm scared. 

I am in free fall and haven't hit bottom.

On the bright side, I still have time to figure out how to fly.

 

 

Namaste,

Shannan

 

 

Frayed

"Frayed"

I have officially been on vacation for 5 days. While I have ventured out, to a couple of events, the gym and to the UC Berkeley Botanical Gardens to snap these photos, for the most part I have been kind of a slug.

For instance, I just woke up from a two hour nap. IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DAY!!! Who does that!!??? 

Not me. But I feel so rested now, I am thinking I should do that more often. Maybe if I reframe it and call it meditation or system upgrading, I won't feel so guilty about it. 

"Dew"

Actually, I don't feel so guilty. My first response when I woke up was to go there, but I felt so good I couldn't. It does tell me that I have been in desparate need of deep rest and haven't been giving myself permission to take care of myself.

"Dogwood"

Photography has become a way that I nurture myself. 

I adore the solitude in it. Sure, I can go with other people, but once I start wandering, I get lost in my own space.

I love diving deep into the subject, looking at it more closely. I love the challenge of trying to get my machanical eye to see and imprint my subject in the way I am seeing it -- not the way it is in reality, but the way it is in relationship to me at that moment. 

"Rose"

 

"Ghost Pines"

 

"Poppy"

"Open/Closed"

 

"Reflection"

I don't always get it right.

That's when another relationship between myself and the subject happens. Pulled into my computer, enlarged on the screen, I notice details I didn't see when I was caught up in the moment. Deeper beauty. Subtle imperfection.

 

"Trumpet"

The whole process is a meditation with the light.

"Blue"

A communion with color.

"Hummer"

Communication with creation.

 

And an understanding of myself.

 

Namaste,

Shannan

Zen of the Broken

"Smiling Dragonfly"

 

This is going to be hard to admit. I have been trying to keep it together for such a long time--years, in fact. Traumatic events, one after another, have had me running in circles, trying to wrap duct tape around a life that always feels on the brink of falling apart.

I'm tired.

I am out of duct tape.

I have reached "Fuck It" status.

I'm broken.

On the outside, the robot Shannan keeps going through the motions of "life." On the inside I have am laying in the form of lotus that is called the fetal position.

Surveying the landscape of my life from rock-bottom I realize...I don't like it. All the things I have been trying to hold together and make right, don't really fit at all. They don't resonate with me. They are just there.

For some reason I have thought that if they are there they must have to stay there: the huge 19th century wagon wheel table I spent a lot of money on but have no room for, the job that provides an income but does not bring me satisfaction, the boyfriend that takes up space but doesn't contribute anything mentally, physically or emotionally. 

I don't even know if I really like them or not...it doesn't matter...wrap duct tape around them and hold on tight. Even if it makes you miserable.

I can't do it anymore.

I start vacation next week. Robot Shannan is gonna take the batteries out and allow herself to completely fall apart. I am cutting the tape and letting it all go so I can make some decisions about what I really WANT to be in my life. 

I feel relieved already. 

A friend of mine posted this poem on her Facebook the other day. It's the theme for these next coming weeks.

 

Zen of the Broken

Be broken.
Lie there
on the ground
in the wreckage
until you can feel
all of your new jagged
edges individually.
Notice how much more
surface area there is to you now.
Notice there’s a rhythm to the stinging.
It will lead you back to your pulse.
Try to move if you can.
Follow the path the pain takes
when it forks and sharks
through your body.
Focus on your uneven breath.
Try to love way it hitches now,
how each drag of air cuts
through the field of panic.
As your thoughts struggle
to harden into words,
return to your breath.
Pull yourself into sitting
as best you can.
Be tender.
Try speaking.
Grasp the leathery
harness of your voice.
How long have you been crying?
Hum something
your mother taught you.
Anything is fine.
Feel it vibrate in your chest.
That’s where your heart is,
still beating,
still wrestling life into you,
still pushing back against the world.

Mindy Nettifee

 

Until next time,

Namaste.

Shannan

 

More Mindy at Cult of Mindy

For the Love of the Game

Spent yesterday evening with my sister and neice and nephew. I'm not a baseball fan, but it was a treat watching my nephew Chance play.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Keelyn was there, too. She is going through the "TWO" stage. Everything is "No." But I was able to capture a couple of shots without her really knowing.

 

On a personal note, I have been through more upheavals the past couple of months: a big move, telationship trials, and professional stress.  I lost some things that were really important to me...mostly me. I am going to take some time to heal through art amd will be posting more frequently. 

And I am also going to get back to writing that next novel.

I know, you'll believe it when you see it. :)

Until next time,

Namaste.

Shannan

In the beginning..........................

 

In the beginning

..........................

was the song

..........................

..........................

..........................

A sound..........................

         A hum..........................

                            A frequency..........................

..........................

Sweet, infinite symphony

..........................

singing across the eternal nothing

..........................

..........................

..........................

until

..........................

..........................

..........................

something

.

form & structure

.

strings & strands

.

matter

.

mana

.

.

.

The song : the heartbeat

.

.

.

Blessed ॐ

.

Divine Amen

.

I Am

 

 

Namaste,

Shannan

 

Trippin'

"Alcatraz Dan"

Danny's birthday weekend we decided to head to San Francisco. I am convinced that in his past lives Dan was one of the downtrodden, struggling type of men. He has an affinity for the dark spaces and rough edges. Alcatraz was where he wanted to go...so that's where we went. 

 

 

"Stairway to the Rec Yard"

 

Dan was convinced of the prisoners' stories that The Rock was a horrible place to be imprisoned. But I don't think it was that bad. They were surrounded by the sounds of the bay, could read all they wanted and eat all they wanted. They could write, paint, knit, and garden outside.  Way better than San Quintin!

 

"View From Inside"

 

The next day, before meeting Kelsea and Mattea for Mattea's audtition for Berklee School of Music, we wandered The Academy of Sciences. Much more my cup of tea.

 

 

"Chatterbox"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Another great, creative weekend with Dan followed by Mattea kicking ass at her Berklee audition.

God. Am I gonna have to say goodbye to my baby and live for 4 years with her in Boston??? :(

I'll leave you with her, singing in our back yard.

 

Namaste,

Shannan

The Dead Things of Winter

"Flower Bones"

 

An evening hike along The Stanislaus with Danny, enjoying the bare bones of nature before Spring bursts forth.

"Twigs & Branches"

"Abandoned Rails"

"Dead Tracks"

"Sheltering Arms"

"Winter Walk"

Namaste,

Shannan

Refuge

A weekend of chasing sunsets. Last night The Wildlife Refuge at the end of Gates Road near Mape's Ranch.

Tonight a Valentine's evening picnic...

To be continued...

Namaste, 

Shannan