Epiphany #3 August 31, 2015

I realized today (and you are saying, “You mean you just got that?”) that part of the reason I have so much trouble making decisions is that I attach such weight to them, as though there is one best solution and that I will only be content/successful/fulfilled (etc.) if I make the very best choice.  Much of this is learned behavior, as my parents were exceedingly cautious in many ways.  Some of it stems from the very real challenges of trying to build a career, to establish secure financial stability, to form and care for a family, to live in a safe and supportive environment.  It is a pattern I have established over a long lifetime.  And part of it is just who I am.

The corollary to this revelation is that now that I am retired, now that I have financial security, now that I realize I have no control over Annie, now that I have established a home in a part of the world that I love, how impactful can any of these small decisions that I grapple with truly be?  Whether I take this class or that, whether I sing with this group or that, I know that I will enjoy them all.  Sure, they will take me down different paths, but nothing really momentous is riding on the outcome.

Ha, let’s see how long that philosophy will stick!

Enough August 30, 2015

The bookstore in Point Reyes frequently hosts multi-week explorations of books that broadly fit into the realm of spirituality – slowing down, paying attention, living life more authentically – and though I don’t attend the workshops, I often buy a copy of the recommended book and read it on my own.  This weekend’s exploration was “A life of being, having, and doing enough” by Wayne Muller.  What a little gem, received at just the right time.  What is enough?  Why isn’t what we have right here, right now “enough”?  Why do we suffer from the feeling that we are never doing enough, contributing enough?  Muller’s short and engaging book, filled with eye-opening metaphors and parables, is just what I needed at this moment.

As it happens, a friend who now lives in Bangkok is visiting the Bay Area, and as we chatted about plans I had considered for this fall, she espoused the virtue of doing nothing.  I immediately protested that I wasn’t doing these things just to keep busy but that I genuinely enjoyed them and was enriched by them.  But something she said stuck:  "How would you know what the alternative would be like?  You have never tried it!" 

Just so.

Check-in August 30, 2015

The summer passed quickly enough, much of it spent in quiet resignation.  However, I did explore two new venues in the path of art and music, and both were well worth it.

First, I took a summer course at UC Berkeley, a “visual studies” class called Paint and Pixel taught by Katie Hawkinson.  My goal was to try my hand at graphic design and learn a little Photoshop and Illustrator in the process.  What a blast this was!  We designed posters and postage stamps and explored concepts through line and color.  It was so engaging and so satisfying to generate a design and have it printed within a short period of time.  Compare that to the protracted process of architecture, with its multi-dimensional plans, permits, and construction.

My second adventure was joining the Stanford Summer Chorus.  What a hoot this was!  Following only six rehearsals and one dress rehearsal, we found ourselves singing in the magnificent and resonant Memorial Church.  The program centered on the Earth, and in his kooky and wonderful way, the director Raf Ornes even had an earth quiz on our registration forms.  A geek after my heart.  I will plan singing with them next summer, too.

Recalling Passaggio August 29, 2015

Though my journey has been interrupted this year by a string of personal “challenges”, I do try to keep going.  This blog had been pushed to the back of my mind until last week when I received an email from a colleague in Michigan who recommended a subject for a genetics interview.  She and I exchanged a few additional emails as she considered whether she should keep working in the face of poor government funding for the sciences.  Her issue was the same as it is for many of us who love our work so much and wonder how we could be happy and fulfilled without it.  It was then that I remembered my blog, in particular an entry on February 15^th of this year, and I suggested she take a look at it.  She did!

Recovery August 28, 2015

My last entry, now almost five months ago, involved my decision to pass up an opportunity to study architecture in Rome.  That conclusion came from worry over a daughter struggling with profoundly challenging issues.  It was right not to go:  Annie disappeared in late May, just when I would have been departing, and it took every bit of strength and tenacity to get her back.  I won’t go into the details of her disappearance or her rescue, but suffice it to say that was an experience that I never thought she or I would have, and one that has taken me all summer to begin to digest. 

During her disappearance, I thought it was very likely that I would lose her completely, that she would die.  It was time for me to prepare myself for this, and to let people close to us know as well.

I went to see one of my oldest and dearest friends Barbara and her husband Warren in the evening, about four days after she disappeared.  At this point, I knew where she was and that she was held captive in a hideous revolving door of drugs and abuse.  I needed to tell them of my grief.  I needed to ready them, too, that they might never see her again.

I went to see Risa and Brian, parents of Annie’s high school boyfriend.  They loved her too, I knew.  They knew nothing of her downhill spiral over the past few years, and when I shared her deadly journey with them, Brian burst into tears.  It was a terrible tale to tell.

Ultimately, through the work of a Colorado detective and a San Francisco police office – both extraordinary, both women – Annie was pulled from disaster one more time.

I tell you all this to explain why I too have disappeared.  Annie has spent the summer in safety.  She has started college again.  She seems to be thriving.  How long will this last?  How can one human heart take so much pain?