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I had a Shamanic Healing session with Veena, who calls herself Laughing Dolphin. She is amazing. An East Indian from Singapore, traveling the world to share her visions.

I showed her this drawing, "Save Yourself". She asked me, "what parts serve me? and what parts don't? and when cutting those parts out, go for big margins! My intention is to trust my intuition in every waking moment, as I do in my dance.

I have her recorded meditations on my ipod, so when she began, asking me to relax and be guided, I was able to drop right in and breath deeply from the center of my soul.  Tuning into my energy, she channeled different elements; guardian angels had a message for me, the Grandmothers sang to me, and, of course, laughing dolphins came through, along with the Goddess Kwan Yin and a hebrew prayer (and she didn't know that I am jewish )

The Sound of My Name

The dance theme last night was hard to wrap my head around,

"our true name" - that name, that sound that is the rhythm of our heart, the flow or our breath, the movement
of the blood in our veins... It is how we show up, it is how we listen to
what has heart and meaning - without judgement and attachment to outcome.
This is where our true name lies...

So I painted the Sound of My Name. I just went with my favorite symbol, my favorite brush, and painted long luxurious strokes. I love the image. It's big and bold. It makes me think of rototiling the earth.

In my last blog I complained about feeling alone, and many people contacted me to remind me that is not true, and I know that. It was a weak moment, one of fear getting the best of me, when I know gratitude is what calms me. After a long swim, (I'm back to swimming a mile, as I did in my 20's, only back then I could do it in 30 minutes, now it takes 45, but I am NOT complaining!) I focused on what is right in my life and after wards I felt fantastic. (thank goddess for endorphins).
Last night, feeling strong and grounded, I had a great dance. I'm beginning to see myself as one of the "elders" there, one of the more "developed" dancers who can drop in deep and move their body into many positions to during different tempos...slow movements with deep breaths to fast movements with limbs and sweat flying! What a practice. There was a young woman there for the 2nd time, maybe she is 25, and she reminded me of my first few times, copying others movements and laughing the whole time as her body moved in new ways. She admired me and said she couldn't keep up! Our movements in daily life are so limited in range. Most, like driving and typing are forward movements. On the dance floor one can move side-ways or backward and build lateral strength, stepping out with wide arms and horizontal legs.
I went to the Dance Performance at Berkeley High and it was fabulous. Fresh music, great choreography, high energy. It was a challenge to stay seated!

Fire of Awareness

This painiting is from December 2010 and the theme was a challenge. Eva had asked, how can we have the light of awareness and the compassion to hold all of our parts?... the good, the bad and the ugly? I couldn't separate light from fire. I imagined it would take a strong person to hold the light or be in the fire and to be compassionate with oneself while looking into your own darkness. This strong man emerged holding an offering of compassion, while being inside the caldron. Here is someone so strong, they can remain calm and offer presence while standing in the heat. I feel in the crucible. What I have taken for granted is up for grabs. Nothing is certain, the future is unknown. Can we stay in this house? Shall I take the job offer and risk changing health insurance? Will my sons be able to stay in Berkeley schools? Will I move and start over in a new community, will I be able to afford to keep everything afloat? I feel so alone, yet I know it comes down to trusting myself, and you don't need other people for that. Painting allows me to practice trust. The images I paint onto the paper continue to surprise me, and that I can trust the process and not get in the way of the imagery that takes shape. As I view the painting during the dance, I can see myself in the vessel, with no way out except through. Paint paint paint. Tomorrow is Wednesday so we will see what the theme is and what emerges. My studio space is up for sale/lease, so it's days are numbered...another unknown.

This is where I stand

I have been continuing to paint, but out of my routine of photographing and posting them. Maybe because it's so freaking cold in my studio, getting in to paint is all I can muster. But the process continues and life goes on. The theme last week: "This is where I stand." I started out painting a body with hands overhead and it looked like it was jumping on a trampoline, so the legs were covered up with a heavy cloak and the earth's red energy coming up from the center of the earth into the body for grounding and the yellow energy of universal love coming down through the crown for healing energy. They meet at the heart and melt into orange. Happy New Year. I'm looking forward to a good 2011.

Robert Becker

My brother Andy called on New Years day to say our friend Robert Becker died of a massive heart attack at 3am Florida time. He was 48. I can still see him at age 4, a blonde haired, skinny thing with a big smile and a penchant for mischief, running around in the summer at the Jewish Center in Long Beach where we went every afternoon to swim and hang out while our moms played Maj Jong. So many moons ago. He leaves his beautiful 15 year old daughter Hailey and wife Anne-Marie. He's the little brother of Mark, one of my brother Andy's oldest and best friends. I hung out with them at the Strawberry Music Festival for years, before we all had kids and were foot loose and free.

I've had my face off with a serious illness that threatens to take me out of the game, but I was lucky. He was not aware that his heart was working too hard or his arteries were clogged or whatever happened. He didn't have a chance. One minute toasting his brother and friends in California long distance and a couple of hours later, dead. It is so final. It is hard to accept. No opportunity to say we love him, that he is one of the funniest guys on the planet, especially when in the same room with Andy, Dale and Mark. He is the first one my age in our circle to die. Not what anyone would want the prize for.

I am plagued by fear of a recurrence. I dutifully take my tamoxifen every night and suffer through hot flashes that ruin a good night's sleep and force me to strip down to my undershirt on a plane home from Chicago. Thankfully it the undershirt was black and I had a scarf to cover up with as I made my way to the head. I have sensations, some painful and others not, in my breast that makes me wonder what's going on in there, residual reminders of two surgeries. Now I have pain in my chest that feels like a boot is standing on me, a feeling in the center of my core, behind my heart chakra. In the same vicinity that the three cancer tumors were removed. The pressure is back with a vengence. I swam a mile twice last week and then again yesterday, and afterwards and all today I have been uncomfortable. I did some deep breathing and yoga movements before dinner and it is definitely my lungs. Last year I had a chest x-ray and it was clear. The diagnosis is stress and anxiety, which isn't hard to believe, I certainly have a ton of stress in my life. Plus the fear that it really is a hidden tumor or pleurisy or something horrible that hasn't been revealed yet. I keep trying to breath into it, meditate, dance, relax, take things in stride, make decisions that will make my life easier, yet the pain in the center of my being remains. I need to find the balance of what is in my control and what isn't, and "the wisdom to know the difference."