5 Ways to be your Own Best Friend

Tags

adoption, Authenticity, Friendship, Resourcefulness, Self-realization, serenity, Sysiphys

Some days it’s hard to realize you are gaining on it.

The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing, and face us with the reality of our powerlessness, that is the friend who cares.
-Henry Nouwen, Dutch-born priest and writer

For the most part, I enjoy a sense of progress in my adoptee’s journey toward wholeness. Some days, however, I feel like Sysiphys, the character in Greek mythology who pushes a massive boulder uphill, reaching the top by sundown but the very next morning being forced to start again at the bottom and push uphill all over again.

As I talk with friends about challenges they are facing, I realize that I am not alone. One does not have to be a “recovering adoptee” to find life full of problems to be overcome, tasks to be accomplished and conundrums that seem to have no end. And while I am blessed to have wonderful and compassionate friends who are never to busy to listen to my latest thorny scenario, one solution I’ve found is to be my own best friend.

Having said that, I’m offering five ways to nurture and appreciate yourself:

1. Let the past be the past. Do not hold grudges against yourself.
2. Remember, when troubles seem to be ganging up against you, that “Mama said there’d be days like this.”
3. Be true to YOU. As far as your self-definition is concerned, be an island. Quit comparing yourself unfavorably with others. Jealously isn’t called the “green-eyed monster” for nothing.
4. Work on fine-tuning your sense of humor. Learn to laugh at yourself.
5. Remember that YOU are not your thoughts.

Life is like a river. We can either enjoy the journey, rowing gently down the stream, or we can let our emotions control our thoughts, feeling a vague dissatisfaction and lack of contentment. One very powerful way to row gently down the stream is to treat yourself as you would a dear, cherished friend.

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Join Elaine for blog posts, published monthly on Mondays. Wide-ranging topics, from travel, hiking, nature, daily living, to personal development. If you are involved in the adoption triangle (adoptee, adopted parent or birthparent) and would like to contribute a guest post, please contact her. We’d love to hear from you!

Poetry Monday, Once Again

Tags

adoption, birds, Flowers, haiku, mountains, Seasons, serenity, Snow, Sun

Note from Elaine: I’m adopting poetry for this first post of 2017, contributed by a writer friend whose work I’ve admired for many years. Her beautifully crafted images capture much of what there is to love in northern New Mexico. Join Roberta as she takes you through Northern New Mexico’s palette with intimate details, sweeping panoramas, and all kinds of weather!

Grace Notes of 2016 in Jaconita

A form that’s perfect for today.

by Roberta Fine

JANUARY
Snow enhancing trash.
Crystal-crusted broken hoe
Crowned by red-topped finch.

FEBRUARY
Wrinkled, folded hills
Holding ancient secrets.
Spinning fireside tales.

MARCH
Finely crafted nest.
Feathered weaver’s masterwork.
Lying on the ground.

APRIL
Silver silhouette
Truchas Peaks shining in new
White Communion dress.

MAY
Hummingbird stealing
Insects from spider’s rich cache
In window cobweb.

JUNE
Slim moon slice smiling
In arching black velvet sky
Empty of storm clouds.

JULY
Coral fruit crowning
Lushly-leaved apricot tree.
Feathered thieves dive in.

AUGUST
Monarch’s stained glass wings
Fanning magenta blossoms.
Sipping as it clings.

SEPTEMBER
Apple scented breeze
Stirring hollow wooden chimes
Into two note song.

OCTOBER
Caught in burnt-red sprays,
October sun igniting
Locust’s vibrant leaves.

NOVEMBER
Yellow butterfly
No bigger than a nickel
Finding last flower.

DECEMBER
White veil laid smoothly
Overnight over Sangres.
Valley brown, leafless.

Poet Roberta Fine lives and writes in Jaconita, New Mexico. She finds inspiration from the diverse seasons and scenery of the Southwest.

What are your favorite scenes from home and environs in your corner of the world? Please send comments, and tune in to Elaine’s website every other Monday for a fresh blog post about adoption, hiking and life.

Roberta Fine has adopted Haiku as her medium of expression

Adopt a Peace Plan for the Holidays

Tags

adoptee, Adoptee Recovery, Focus, Gratitude, Happiness, Holidays, Self-Empowerment, serenity

The grandchildren are visiting soon, and I couldn’t help but recall a long-ago past. Like

Christmas is full of joy and anticipation!

my five-year-old boy and eight-year-old girl, I was caught up in Christmas magic. I couldn’t wait! What a contrast with these days’ scrambling to accomplish everything, to set the stage, to “deck the halls.” It can be exhausting!

During a recent hike in the Santa Fe National Forest, I talked with a friend about combating Holiday Doldrums. His solution was simple: “Aim for peace, and stay within the confines of the day.” Great advice as far as it goes, but I’ve found it helpful to set boundaries for the day, especially during December madness. Based on a recent message from the Chopra Center, here’s my personal six-point plan.

Be in the NOW, regarding each day, from sunrise to night, as a gift.

Raise your appreciation quotient. Challenge yourself, as you go throughout the holidays, to turn your attention to others. Last week I was stuck in a slow-moving line at the post office. Instead of the snag turning into an ordeal, I enjoyed a pleasant conversation with a fellow USPS customer. We discussed the superiority of the greeting cards carried by our post office. Just one example of being grateful for the “small stuff.”

3. Think less about yourself, more about others. Give your ego a vacation and practice really listening. It is a way of flipping the script and focussing on being.

4.Be easy on yourself. Don’t obsess about making the holidays perfect. That can be a

Make it a daily practice to recall 5 things for which you’re grateful.

recipe for disappointment. Look for ways to be satisfied with all you accomplish.

5. Set limits, and do it gracefully. The holidays are often a time when old family issues reappear, stress levels rise, and people overstep your boundaries. Reactive responses are the enemy. If you find yourself saying the same things you’ve said in the past, just stop. Determine to recalibrate your emotions.

6. Focus on the spiritual. Whatever your beliefs, place them in center stage during Christmas and Hannukah. Turn to scriptures, poetry, being in nature — whatever inspires you.

Create a checklist, writing these suggestions on an index card. As you go about the day, refer to the list to see how you’re doing. It shouldn’t be burdensome but more like a game. Be grateful for the times when you meet your expectations. How do YOU make the holidays less stressful and more joyous. Please share your reflections!

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Please join Elaine every other Monday for reflections on adoption, hiking and life. Let us know if you’d like to contribute an adoption-related guest post. And remember, as of now, the days are growing longer!

Nature can be the best therapy of all!

Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood

Tags

adoption, Attitude adjustment, Childhood, Climate Change, Innocence, Mr. Rogers, Optimism, serenity, Transcendence

As I’ve traveled the road to what I call “adoption recovery,” I’ve learned a few things. It is those reflections that will be the topic of today’s blog post.
Whenever I visit my young grandchildren, as I currently am, I like to tell them stories of what the world was like when their Dad was their age. In this age of streaming and electronic books, it’s hard for them to imagine coming home from school every day to a beloved television program. In a way, it’s a lost magic garden; at another level, I’m glad for the memory.

On this Grandparents Day weekend 2015, as my four-year-old grandson and I stroll to the corner park, I’m reminded of Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood, a 1970s television show that came on every weekday afternoon. It was a favorite of my children when they were four or so. There was something very reassuring about the dapper, genteel no-longer-young gentleman singing It’s a beautiful day in the neighborhood, a beautiful day in the neighborhood…Would you be mine, could you be mine, won’t you be my neighbor?
The show always started in precisely the same way, inviting the viewer into an orderly and benign world. Mr. Rogers puts on his cardigan sweater, flips his shoes in the air before lacing them up, and invites you into the Rogers world of green lawns and painted shutters. It’s a world seen through a child’s innocent eyes. There is room for optimism. Happiness seems a natural state of being rather than an act of courage. Mr. Rogers beams his charming smile and asks, “Did you ever grow anything in the garden of your mind?”
Back to the present: I’m here in southern California for my summer visit to see the family. It’s been way too hot for a San Diego September. Monstrous wildfires rage to the north. Mercifully, however, there is a refreshing breeze wafting through the palm trees surrounding the playground. Following a fierce heat wave in San Diego during which temperatures reached 98 degrees,this is a blessing. The day itself is a blessing .As my grandson digs contentedly in the sandbox, I reflect on everything that, despite a world full of troubles, is still right.
The gratitude list. It never fails me as an attitude adjuster. I have family that’s small but close-knit, wonderful friends, and I live in a place I love. My health seems to be holding up. I have two books scheduled for publication—Santa Fe on Foot, a guidebook, and Murder at Red Mesa, my second suspense novel. Though I’ve held many other jobs over the years, my hope has always been to be a full time writer. While I may not be on the road to fame or fortune, I am pursuing a lifetime dream.

Feel the heat and spend time outdoors anyway! (Just remember sunscreen)

Beyond all of that, however, is the growing realization that we always have a choice. We can be buffeted by outward events, emotionally crippled by self-fulfilling prophecies, blinded by being too much in our heads. Or we can choose , as a hiking buddy once recommended, to “stay within the confines of the day.”

I like to dwell on an anonymous quote I discovered while walking a Santa Fe labyrinth. Engraved in a large rock is the following:
There’s a new world coming. She is on her way. On a still day we can hear her breathing.

Join Elaine every other Monday for insights on adoption and life.

 

My Magic Mountain

Tags

adoptee, Adoption recovery, Celebrating Adoption, healing, Hiking, mountains, national adoption awareness month, outdoors, serenity, trails

To celebrate National Adoption Month, I hereby adopt a mountain.

Monte Sol gives me inspiration for writing and a new appreciation for simply being alive.

. Allow me to explain…

Readers may know that my favorite short day hike is Sun Mountain, often called by its Spanish name, “Monte Sol.” Along with three other prominent foothills of the Rockies, it offers a distinctive silhouette. The skyline of southeastern Santa Fe goes like this: Picacho Peak, a near triangle topped by a slanted nipple shape; long galumphing Atalaya, a favorite five-mile hike; and Monte Sol, the most perfectly symmetrical of the three.

Monte Sol is beautiful and convenient. I go there almost every day. When the City of Santa Fe gained permission from landowners for access from the road, they established a trailhead to Monte Sol. It was a landslide victory for local and visiting walkers. The path up Monte Sol became more accessible to not just me (I happen to live practically next door) but to everyone in the world. Often it’s an up-and-down affair, but when I have time, I take advantage of rocky outdoor seating that’s perfect for sunning, meditating, eating a sandwich, writing, or simply watching the clouds drift by.

Though it’s only 8/10ths of a mile to the top of Monte Sol, the elevation gain is nearly

Almost there!

1,000 feet. The steepness makes for a good workout. The final third of the ascent involves over 100 switchbacks and requires one to step up, up, and ever up.

The hike proceeds in three acts: a beginning, middle and end. The first section of path is curved but gentle. The second takes the hiker up a series of large rocks and to a view less of the city below than toward other, unnamed foothills. The contours became darker as the day advances. The final act, most demanding, requires careful footwork as the path narrows, at times disappearing. One mounts a virtual rock staircase, finally reaching a ten-foot wide rock that looks as though it might have been an ocean floor.

From then on, it’s a mostly dirt walkway until the “Ah Ha” moment of reaching the top. Surprisingly, the summit of Monte Sol is a flat area the size of a couple football fields. A panoramic view unfolds in every direction, and one can understand why early settlers compared the high desert terrain to a kind of inland ocean. The southwestern palate of green, sage, tan, brown and purple stretch beneath one in layers. Huge white clouds billow overhead.

There, with the city stretched out below, the Sangre de Cristo Mountains and the Pecos Wilderness to the North, the seeker can find peace and serenity. On warm afternoons, it is often tempting to stay awhile, basking in the sun like a lazy lizard.

That said, though one can find solitude here, on this particular Sunday afternoon, I encounter a dozen other hikers. There’s the man with the Irish Setter with a yellow bandana around his neck (the dog’s neck, not the man’s). Along come the mothers of small children who’ve managed to train their little ones to tackle the arduous walk but to make it fun, and the young woman with headphones who is running rather than walking. I can’t imagine how she would jog the steeper boulder sections, but assume she pauses to pick over the rocks before continuing her fast pace.

Then I remember my younger self, a Me who was always running and training for the next marathon. I would not have been daunted by a few precipitous passes. A lifetime ago…I miss those running days. And yet, I’m grateful to be covering the same territory. I’m glad to be out here, slower but still strong.

Enough of Monte Sol musing. It’s time to leave the summit and head back down into the real world. I watch gigantic black birds circling overhead and take a final look at the distant road stretching south to Albuquerque, then hike down to the flatlands. I know my adopted trail much better now, and I feel completely ready for an afternoon of writing.

Do YOU have a path that leads you to serenity and healing? Please let me know about your best hiking trail, and, without mentioning your name, I’ll be happy to share your reflections with my followers.

Elaine at the top of Monte Sol, Atalaya Peak looming in the background.

The Path to Serenity

Tags

adoption, Dealing with Adoption, Hiking, loss, Neighbors, Paths and Trails, Renewal, serenity

“Only when you are on foot are you really there.”    -Goethe

We adoptees who are now adults are supposedly “over” adoption issues.

Atalaya Mountain, 9121 feet

Nature shrine in memory of Ruth

While I believe this in theory, I know that when the road gets rough, the old angst comes back for a cameo appearance. The same tiresome crew: feelings of melancholy, loneliness, impatience and frustration.

Think in terms of life as a journey. Now that it’s almost Fall, I look back on the route I traveled last summer. Most of the season was a smooth highway, but the past two weeks resembled a dusty, rugged washer board of a back road. At the end of August, my neighbor Ruth died rather suddenly. True, she was a month away from turning 95, a ripe old age in anyone’s book. But the fact that I lived next door to her for 40 years, the fact that I was planning to visit her once again for one of our quarterly  coffee klatches and the harsh fact that, all of a sudden, a visit was no longer possible left me flat. I’ll admit it: Even though I know about necessary and inevitable losses, the old abandonment issues kicked in.

I’ve discovered a solution: I take myself outdoors.

Those of you who’ve been following my blog know that I’m all about not only adoption but also the curative power of nature. When life becomes hard to take, I take to the trails: anywhere outdoors that will provide a walk in the woods, a view of the mountains,
walking, strolling, rambling, climbing in a beautiful spot.

This is one thing I’ve learned. Whenever I feel stuck, down or dissatisfied, nature lifts me out of myself and helps me achieve an “attitude adjustment.” I recommend this for lifting the spirits, overcoming writer’s block, or recharging your emotional batteries.

I live near mountains in the scenic Southwest, but no matter where you are, there are sure to be are lovely places. While not necessarily a permanent solution, hiking and walking can definitely make the world seem brighter.

Join Elaine every Monday for insights on adoption and life.

5 Ways to be your Own Best Friend

Tags

adoption, Authenticity, Friendship, Resourcefulness, Self-realization, serenity, Sysiphys

Some days it’s hard to realize you are gaining on it.

The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing, and face us with the reality of our powerlessness, that is the friend who cares.
-Henry Nouwen, Dutch-born priest and writer

For the most part, I enjoy a sense of progress in my adoptee’s journey toward wholeness. Some days, however, I feel like Sysiphys, the character in Greek mythology who pushes a massive boulder uphill, reaching the top by sundown but the very next morning being forced to start again at the bottom and push uphill all over again.

As I talk with friends about challenges they are facing, I realize that I am not alone. One does not have to be a “recovering adoptee” to find life full of problems to be overcome, tasks to be accomplished and conundrums that seem to have no end. And while I am blessed to have wonderful and compassionate friends who are never to busy to listen to my latest thorny scenario, one solution I’ve found is to be my own best friend.

Having said that, I’m offering five ways to nurture and appreciate yourself:

1. Let the past be the past. Do not hold grudges against yourself.
2. Remember, when troubles seem to be ganging up against you, that “Mama said there’d be days like this.”
3. Be true to YOU. As far as your self-definition is concerned, be an island. Quit comparing yourself unfavorably with others. Jealously isn’t called the “green-eyed monster” for nothing.
4. Work on fine-tuning your sense of humor. Learn to laugh at yourself.
5. Remember that YOU are not your thoughts.

Life is like a river. We can either enjoy the journey, rowing gently down the stream, or we can let our emotions control our thoughts, feeling a vague dissatisfaction and lack of contentment. One very powerful way to row gently down the stream is to treat yourself as you would a dear, cherished friend.

Befriend YOU!

Lazy Summertime…

Tags

adopting a new attitude, Community, Creativity, Gardening, Lost Dog, Peace, serenity, Solitude, writing

“Seek peace and pursue it.” – St. Benedict

As the Summer Solstice draws near, I’m looking for fresh creativity and new ideas.

This scarecrow works 24/7-so we gardeners can do what we love

Once I week, I drive to Frenchy’s Field, the nearby community garden where four other women and I planted and now tend four plots. This morning, while watering the rows of spinach, tomato plants, cabbage and cucumbers, I admitted to myself that Arundati, the sequel to Beast of Bengal, isn’t writing itself. It cries out for more of my time. I also vowed to accelerate the revision of Santa Fe on Foot-Adventures in the City Different.

That said, beginning in late June, I’ll be  posting every other Monday. In the fall, I will most likely go back to weekly posts.

Like most writers I know, however, I’m always writing. People at Frenchy’s Field tend to be congenial. There’s a hospitable air, and so even as I gardened, I harvested material for future plots or subplots.

The city watering hours are only from six to ten a.m. and four to eight p.m. When I approached the garden around nine, someone was already there, gently hosing the plots that she had adopted. She handed over the hose so I could water my territory, and we chatted. It turned out that she also was a writer. We talked briefly about our published books. She had a long bike ride ahead and I had four plots to water before the ten a.m. deadline, but it was likely, we agreed, that the garden would bring us together again.

Another encounter happened as I was locking the padlocked gate to go home. A tall man wearing a bereft expression was calling for “Roy,” the dog he’d lost just a few hours earlier. Having recently lost my adopted orange kitty Thomas Cromwell, I related to Roy’s owner, and I wanted to help.

“He was last seen right around here,” the man explained, giving me a full description of his pet, as well as a telephone number and e-mail address. I assured him that I’d pass along the description of Roy – brown, labrador mix, shy and gentle – to people I met in Frenchy’s park. It turned out that before I got to my car, I’d alerted several dog-walking people to look for Roy.

Gardening seems to go quite well with writing. It provides a quiet, thoughtful time. It can also yield rewarding interactions with total strangers. Like seeds sprouting under the earth’s surface, ideas grow and break through. I went home and wrote for the rest of the morning.