Recently, I have been thinking: about ache and letting go of the past. I was rereading a journal I keep adding to. It is a journal created by Sabrina Ward Harrison. An awesome journal artist that collaborates wise words and space for you to vent, tell your story, etc. If interested here is her website, to me it's drool worthy...
http://www.sabrinawardharrison.com/ee/
Anyway- I have been having dreams about grief, loss, and ache... And I think it is about letting go. So here is the entry by Sabrina Ward Harrison that struck me tonight, yet again, like many times before...
"Ache
the toppling over, the feeling that something vital is disintegrating, the stuck in the muck feeling, seeping out at the edges- oh- I want to twist away from these loneliness. There seems to be no place for it in the swirling world around me. All this sadness and unexpressed parts. We can end up carrying all this sadness and unexpressed bits of ourselves if we don't speak up, spill open, and be truly as we are.
I am learning that loving all the way can ache and sting but loving halfway doesn't keep us safe, it leaves us with a hope that could never live out loud. Let yourself pour forward and be a place for your ache to rest." (p 53, The True and the Questions)
So I am learning to love all the way and to not take halfsie love as sufficient. For self, partner, and community I wanna love and have love in return all the way. Release, let go... and time to pour forward.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
What a week
Last night an interesting conversation came up at my support group meeting for Alopecia Areata. "Where are the psychological resources for this experience of hair loss". Really interesting input about Alopecian's experiences with psychologists and therapy in general. I was really excited to hear about the resources that the conference has to offer, as well as the every other month support group. But I left feeling- where are the specialists???... and not just in injections and the medical knowledge- but the counselors that someone with Alopecia can go to seek support and a space to be able to say the good, the bad, the light hearted, and the heavy emotions that arise.
I see this notion of a "specialist" in different ways. First, if the counselor/ psychologist does not have Alopecia- how can they at all relate? Secondly, the counselor can act as that refuge from the storm- which I think was closest to what I felt when I first lost my hair.
When I lost my hair- I didn't want to go and be in it. I wasn't ready to be in my community of Alopecia Areata. So I avoided the conference even though it was in San Francisco. I couldn't quite explain it to my peers in fear they would think of it as too scary or depressing. My family was too close to home. And that left me feeling very alone on the foggy coast. Now, I need to note when I say alone, I don't mean "oh woe- I am alone- so depressed- no one understands." I went to different people in my life for different sources of strength. I went to friends to try to retain normalcy at 16 (AKA awkward puberty, pranks and saying "I'm bored" and finding some random place to "go cruising"). I went to family to either try to remain a teen wanting to rebel, or appreciating my home/ farm as a place to express and go bare (bare- not meaning earthy woman gardening topless, bare meaning going bald). I went to my sister for a big sis that would listen to how I felt my baldness affected my relationships. I became close with my sister again after I lost my hair because she gave me a sense that I can preserver through this challenge. I remember my mom saying "this too shall pass- this too shall pass" At the time I thought "yeah fucking right mom- will it- will it?!?! And you know the baldness didn't pass but the insecurity, the loss of hope to rebuild my life, to feel fully human- it passed. This may sound a bit melodramatic- because I have heard from myself and so many others- "it's just hair" But in the long run- it changes you. It's not just hair. It is the experience. This bald experience pushed me to become something I did not know I had the strength to become.
But getting back to the point of therapists... there wasn't a space carved out in my social network or family that I could say, frankly, the fucked up thoughts that went through my head. I went to a counselor, because I had to talk it out in a safe space and I was so lucky that I had a therapist, although she did not have Alopecia, allowed me a safe space to talk, for myself. The fucked up thoughts didn't have to spin in circles in my head, they were out in a room- laid down on a table- and I was able to look at them, go over them, see the power they had over me, and let them go. So not as a hopeful one-day therapist but as an alopecian who had self doubt, who had self hate, and who had a low sense of self confidence- Counseling saved my life, and got me going where I needed to go.
As for the Psychologist Alopecian specialist- it should exist- it needs to exist. But wow think of all of the possibilities to come. When I lost my hair 10 years ago, NAAF seemed smaller. Now look at it. Most importantly the friendships and the support from truely authentic individuals learning how to live like the rest of the world. Learning how to take steps and learning to "just breathe". I hope that with my vocational choice I can carve out a little room, not as a specialist- but as an art therapist to have the tools to give to others to help themselves and give a helping hand to someone else in need. A cyclical process each growing along and within each other. It's getting late- and I think I hit Maya Angelou status in metaphor and motivation with my writing. Here is something to chew over... it Alopecian's, friends of mine, or random encounter onto this space. Keep growing, keep walking, and utilize any resources that are possible for you to grow into, and embrace your beautiful bad ass self.
I see this notion of a "specialist" in different ways. First, if the counselor/ psychologist does not have Alopecia- how can they at all relate? Secondly, the counselor can act as that refuge from the storm- which I think was closest to what I felt when I first lost my hair.
When I lost my hair- I didn't want to go and be in it. I wasn't ready to be in my community of Alopecia Areata. So I avoided the conference even though it was in San Francisco. I couldn't quite explain it to my peers in fear they would think of it as too scary or depressing. My family was too close to home. And that left me feeling very alone on the foggy coast. Now, I need to note when I say alone, I don't mean "oh woe- I am alone- so depressed- no one understands." I went to different people in my life for different sources of strength. I went to friends to try to retain normalcy at 16 (AKA awkward puberty, pranks and saying "I'm bored" and finding some random place to "go cruising"). I went to family to either try to remain a teen wanting to rebel, or appreciating my home/ farm as a place to express and go bare (bare- not meaning earthy woman gardening topless, bare meaning going bald). I went to my sister for a big sis that would listen to how I felt my baldness affected my relationships. I became close with my sister again after I lost my hair because she gave me a sense that I can preserver through this challenge. I remember my mom saying "this too shall pass- this too shall pass" At the time I thought "yeah fucking right mom- will it- will it?!?! And you know the baldness didn't pass but the insecurity, the loss of hope to rebuild my life, to feel fully human- it passed. This may sound a bit melodramatic- because I have heard from myself and so many others- "it's just hair" But in the long run- it changes you. It's not just hair. It is the experience. This bald experience pushed me to become something I did not know I had the strength to become.
But getting back to the point of therapists... there wasn't a space carved out in my social network or family that I could say, frankly, the fucked up thoughts that went through my head. I went to a counselor, because I had to talk it out in a safe space and I was so lucky that I had a therapist, although she did not have Alopecia, allowed me a safe space to talk, for myself. The fucked up thoughts didn't have to spin in circles in my head, they were out in a room- laid down on a table- and I was able to look at them, go over them, see the power they had over me, and let them go. So not as a hopeful one-day therapist but as an alopecian who had self doubt, who had self hate, and who had a low sense of self confidence- Counseling saved my life, and got me going where I needed to go.
As for the Psychologist Alopecian specialist- it should exist- it needs to exist. But wow think of all of the possibilities to come. When I lost my hair 10 years ago, NAAF seemed smaller. Now look at it. Most importantly the friendships and the support from truely authentic individuals learning how to live like the rest of the world. Learning how to take steps and learning to "just breathe". I hope that with my vocational choice I can carve out a little room, not as a specialist- but as an art therapist to have the tools to give to others to help themselves and give a helping hand to someone else in need. A cyclical process each growing along and within each other. It's getting late- and I think I hit Maya Angelou status in metaphor and motivation with my writing. Here is something to chew over... it Alopecian's, friends of mine, or random encounter onto this space. Keep growing, keep walking, and utilize any resources that are possible for you to grow into, and embrace your beautiful bad ass self.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Hydrating in the community
Today was an excellent day. I became a member of Glide! And my friend at this lovely community said... you join something when you know it's right. The right time. Two things have been going through my head. Where are the communities of social support? Identify them and cherish them. Secondly, this first semester has been a trial of understanding schedules- work loads- a new chapter. I realized that in my non-routine schedule for the first half of the semester I found my self lost- and I'll even admit a bit down in the dumps, until I drive over the bridge on my way to school- I am happy and alive. In love with a vocation that I feel it is calling me to let evolve how ever it does so.
But it was like clockwork- morning time- fill my time with computer as distraction- then feelings of "oh I gatta do something" so I then finally after walking around in circles. I do a little work- "not enough". I get ready for school- I get in my car and for the first half of my commute all my head can hear is "shoulda woulda coulda" "If I had not slacked I would on my game with school work" "If I just did this differently- things wouldn't have turned out the way they did." "Man heather you always do this." Then the fastrack booth- it beeps, and I go flying through, almost a rebirth- reminding me that I should not beat my self up- self affirmations that say "Heather you are great- love yourself today" as for the to do list.... baby steps, keep walking and baby steps. I cross the bridge and I wonder why do I have this thought routine everyday? I am tired of it. And I want a change. What are my sources of strength. Art, writing, support systems and community, physical exercise, and school. what are those baby steps to get my to do list done. And how can I pat myself on the back when I do those steps?
I headed to Glide today- because in all of the business of figuring out schedules, read, art assess, and so forth... I realized that I was lacking... my community. And I realize like dehydration- eventually you need to drink and be in it with others. Just as Glide is that for me, my Alopecia support group community- I cherish it- and I am really happy the support group meeting is coming soon. Also another, is the housemate I am feeling such support and authenticity with my program, my bouncing off the walls when on caffeine or when I having romantic issues. She checks me- yet cares- and even just let's me vent.
I feel like we all need communities to check each other- to hydrate- to drink. To be nourished from each others conversation, laughter, or sorrow. And Glide specifically is a methodist church- but it's much broader- it's about feeling nurtured yet told straight up what's up. I think everyone needs that beyond a church's walls. In the street, in the classroom, in the breakroom, in the local coffee shop. Who or what do you go to check yourself? What image or object is there for you to say "hey I am no longer going to say I am not good enough today. Today I am doing 1, 2, and 3 and that ain't bad. And I am doing it awesomely!"
I really enjoyed myself at Glide today because I realize I was able to check myself, the world around me, and receive and give a little love. I hydrated today and boy did it feel good.
Oh and I went to Ikea- and ikea is always good. Hint: frozen yogurt is amazing in the cafe. I would have to say that is my disney land.
But it was like clockwork- morning time- fill my time with computer as distraction- then feelings of "oh I gatta do something" so I then finally after walking around in circles. I do a little work- "not enough". I get ready for school- I get in my car and for the first half of my commute all my head can hear is "shoulda woulda coulda" "If I had not slacked I would on my game with school work" "If I just did this differently- things wouldn't have turned out the way they did." "Man heather you always do this." Then the fastrack booth- it beeps, and I go flying through, almost a rebirth- reminding me that I should not beat my self up- self affirmations that say "Heather you are great- love yourself today" as for the to do list.... baby steps, keep walking and baby steps. I cross the bridge and I wonder why do I have this thought routine everyday? I am tired of it. And I want a change. What are my sources of strength. Art, writing, support systems and community, physical exercise, and school. what are those baby steps to get my to do list done. And how can I pat myself on the back when I do those steps?
I headed to Glide today- because in all of the business of figuring out schedules, read, art assess, and so forth... I realized that I was lacking... my community. And I realize like dehydration- eventually you need to drink and be in it with others. Just as Glide is that for me, my Alopecia support group community- I cherish it- and I am really happy the support group meeting is coming soon. Also another, is the housemate I am feeling such support and authenticity with my program, my bouncing off the walls when on caffeine or when I having romantic issues. She checks me- yet cares- and even just let's me vent.
I feel like we all need communities to check each other- to hydrate- to drink. To be nourished from each others conversation, laughter, or sorrow. And Glide specifically is a methodist church- but it's much broader- it's about feeling nurtured yet told straight up what's up. I think everyone needs that beyond a church's walls. In the street, in the classroom, in the breakroom, in the local coffee shop. Who or what do you go to check yourself? What image or object is there for you to say "hey I am no longer going to say I am not good enough today. Today I am doing 1, 2, and 3 and that ain't bad. And I am doing it awesomely!"
I really enjoyed myself at Glide today because I realize I was able to check myself, the world around me, and receive and give a little love. I hydrated today and boy did it feel good.
Oh and I went to Ikea- and ikea is always good. Hint: frozen yogurt is amazing in the cafe. I would have to say that is my disney land.
Friday, November 12, 2010
New job bringing up new/ old insecurities
Baseball hats. Put one on when I first lost my hair- no thank you- not my style I guess. For some reason I feel like the baseball cap is an arrow to my difference. Bald woman walking here. But bare- I guess it's just out there. It's there- I'm bare- and walk on. So this point out of difference (the hat) was a choice I said no to a long time ago- baseball caps are just not my thing.
But now a new job is requiring a baseball cap as part of the uniform. My interview was like a ballet- graceful, smooth, and beautiful. I bagged the job. Then "okay here you go Heather here is your hat you will be wearing" and although this is protocol of the company for all associates- my heart sunk and my pulse rose. Here protocol was getting the best of my avoidance to state the obvious. I am bald.
I left bearing a grin, thankful for the job, but also repeating "Heather you can do this you can do this". I went home and looked in the mirror for a while with my new head wear... and you know not so bad. Maybe it was the braces that I had before that threw my identity, femininity, and girly charm out the window. Or the acknowledgement that the initial hair loss is a form of trauma, a breakdown (maybe minor myabe big- but it changes you) I also realized at that moment how much my face has changed since that first time when wearing a baseball cap. I realized I looked "woman": that has been happening a lot in the past few years... I am bald and I look woman.
After losing my hair I felt I went to unwanted androgyny, and the question "if I lose my hair am I really less of a woman?"
But going back to face changes. It's amazing- still my spark- still my eyes-still my soul shinning through... but my face looks different, I feel a little more ownership of my face, my body. And I don't mean narcissistic looks at beauty in the mirror, but a new exclamation, identification, ownership of my body.
I have to admit it was a bit hard to wear my hat today at a training- because I have built my identity around story telling of my experience to relate to others. Maybe it's time for me, my personality to shine, maybe I don't always have to be the storyteller, or the Jane Goodall elaborating on the behavior of the bald. Maybe it's time for me to just be me, I have it, own it.
I realize that I am tested with this hat, but I also know that I will keep walking- and shine on. Shine on shine on.
But now a new job is requiring a baseball cap as part of the uniform. My interview was like a ballet- graceful, smooth, and beautiful. I bagged the job. Then "okay here you go Heather here is your hat you will be wearing" and although this is protocol of the company for all associates- my heart sunk and my pulse rose. Here protocol was getting the best of my avoidance to state the obvious. I am bald.
I left bearing a grin, thankful for the job, but also repeating "Heather you can do this you can do this". I went home and looked in the mirror for a while with my new head wear... and you know not so bad. Maybe it was the braces that I had before that threw my identity, femininity, and girly charm out the window. Or the acknowledgement that the initial hair loss is a form of trauma, a breakdown (maybe minor myabe big- but it changes you) I also realized at that moment how much my face has changed since that first time when wearing a baseball cap. I realized I looked "woman": that has been happening a lot in the past few years... I am bald and I look woman.
After losing my hair I felt I went to unwanted androgyny, and the question "if I lose my hair am I really less of a woman?"
But going back to face changes. It's amazing- still my spark- still my eyes-still my soul shinning through... but my face looks different, I feel a little more ownership of my face, my body. And I don't mean narcissistic looks at beauty in the mirror, but a new exclamation, identification, ownership of my body.
I have to admit it was a bit hard to wear my hat today at a training- because I have built my identity around story telling of my experience to relate to others. Maybe it's time for me, my personality to shine, maybe I don't always have to be the storyteller, or the Jane Goodall elaborating on the behavior of the bald. Maybe it's time for me to just be me, I have it, own it.
I realize that I am tested with this hat, but I also know that I will keep walking- and shine on. Shine on shine on.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Intuition/ gut sometimes needs to be your voice of reason.
And my head told my heart
"Let love grow"
But my heart told my head
"This time no"
-Mumford & Sons
Winter winds
"Let love grow"
But my heart told my head
"This time no"
-Mumford & Sons
Winter winds
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Richard Carolan quote from class
"Who shows up for therapy, what shoes do you wear as a therapist? Afterall, the shoes hold your feet, in which you stand."- R.C.
Friday, September 24, 2010
Friday, September 10, 2010
Summer thoughts
Mendocino
Each day
meat
fog
child's play
sleep
meat
fog
child's play
sleep
Paint- don't ever forget the paint
This summer- was about defining myself in old spaces in new ways. I had surprisingly a life changing experience in Mendocino. I learned a little about loving, a little about hurting, and a little bit about having a good time in a space I avoided for a while. All of the sudden Mendocino was mine again. I was standing there, not someone Else's impression, not something Else's systematic ways of identity. It was Heather a sandwich, and running on the beaches with a three year old.
But to Mention: the famous MENDOCINO BLACK HOLE THEORY.... once your there your there, you never leave, the culture sucks you in. I saw it- it exists- and I see the alluring power of it. I won't lie I questioned my choice of grad school while I was there. The isolation of the foggy town- really makes the small town attitude into small world- what goes on- is your choices- it's easy to lose sight to the other possibilities in life. This is no dis on the town- it's a setup- it's a role- it's a community, a strong community- there are systems- there are roles that are expected to keep it strong.
Another thing- would I move back to Mendocino- yes- definitely I would.
I won't lie- it's hard dating in Mendocino- there is limited "resources" and culturally a hello is a head nod and a hustle by-men speak up- we don't bite, say hello... Speak up women- say hello- converse- men don't bite either. It's set up that a nod is a conversation and it's expected that the other knows what that means exactly- maybe it's expected to know- but sorry I missed that memo.
I fell for someone/ something because it was conversation- it was exciting- it was intrigue, but when it got down to it- I couldn't support his ventures- and I was in the wrong- apparently. So I needed to leave because I knew I needed something better. I needed something that could walk with me.
Sum up: "I can be with your pain- but I can't carry it- that is your journey"
That was a big realization for me this summer. I realized that to express pain- I need to take ownership over it, I invite others as support to walk with me in it.... but never to carry it- ownership it is mine- it is my responsibility to work through it- to carry it, to shed it, to be rejuvenated by a lessening weight.
I walk in a little more peace because of that small town, I learned a lot this summer, I learned to apply the love, and self empowering systems that support has been telling me to do.
I learned from the good the bad, and today- tomorrow I will get knocked down- but we keep getting up because there is an obligation to self- own your pain because you are the only one that can work through it. I am feeling good.
Although- money's tight- gotta find a job- worried about how am I going to do this grad school year in three years- it seems like forever... but step by step--- sing it Whitney Houston
(note to self- charge shuffle) haha
I am intrigued about what's to come.
Currently listening to:
Nicki Minaj
B.O.B.
and James Taylor- I know random.
Each day
meat
fog
child's play
sleep
meat
fog
child's play
sleep
Paint- don't ever forget the paint
This summer- was about defining myself in old spaces in new ways. I had surprisingly a life changing experience in Mendocino. I learned a little about loving, a little about hurting, and a little bit about having a good time in a space I avoided for a while. All of the sudden Mendocino was mine again. I was standing there, not someone Else's impression, not something Else's systematic ways of identity. It was Heather a sandwich, and running on the beaches with a three year old.
But to Mention: the famous MENDOCINO BLACK HOLE THEORY.... once your there your there, you never leave, the culture sucks you in. I saw it- it exists- and I see the alluring power of it. I won't lie I questioned my choice of grad school while I was there. The isolation of the foggy town- really makes the small town attitude into small world- what goes on- is your choices- it's easy to lose sight to the other possibilities in life. This is no dis on the town- it's a setup- it's a role- it's a community, a strong community- there are systems- there are roles that are expected to keep it strong.
Another thing- would I move back to Mendocino- yes- definitely I would.
I won't lie- it's hard dating in Mendocino- there is limited "resources" and culturally a hello is a head nod and a hustle by-men speak up- we don't bite, say hello... Speak up women- say hello- converse- men don't bite either. It's set up that a nod is a conversation and it's expected that the other knows what that means exactly- maybe it's expected to know- but sorry I missed that memo.
I fell for someone/ something because it was conversation- it was exciting- it was intrigue, but when it got down to it- I couldn't support his ventures- and I was in the wrong- apparently. So I needed to leave because I knew I needed something better. I needed something that could walk with me.
Sum up: "I can be with your pain- but I can't carry it- that is your journey"
That was a big realization for me this summer. I realized that to express pain- I need to take ownership over it, I invite others as support to walk with me in it.... but never to carry it- ownership it is mine- it is my responsibility to work through it- to carry it, to shed it, to be rejuvenated by a lessening weight.
I walk in a little more peace because of that small town, I learned a lot this summer, I learned to apply the love, and self empowering systems that support has been telling me to do.
I learned from the good the bad, and today- tomorrow I will get knocked down- but we keep getting up because there is an obligation to self- own your pain because you are the only one that can work through it. I am feeling good.
Although- money's tight- gotta find a job- worried about how am I going to do this grad school year in three years- it seems like forever... but step by step--- sing it Whitney Houston
(note to self- charge shuffle) haha
I am intrigued about what's to come.
Currently listening to:
Nicki Minaj
B.O.B.
and James Taylor- I know random.
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Friday, August 6, 2010
Friday, July 2, 2010
Playground rules 101
Since losing my hair, the one place that has continually been a struggle to go and keep my head high, bald and proud, shinning and beaming... is the playground.
Maybe some sort of structured social system is built into each twist of static plastic, always in good spirit but with a bit of a bite. As a child the playground has always been a historical site of intrepedation. And even as a almost 25 year old woman... my knees start to quake when I think bald woman in playground.
What will the kids think? How will I handle the child yelling monster from above the plastic molded castle, or the kids go upwards the slide- thinking why does she have no hair?
Yes these insecurities exist- I am not going to say they don't. I think these things. And it's good to write it down.
I experienced the playground the other day, while taking a friend's little son to the park with his mom.
"She doens't have hair and it is funny"
The father of the 7ish year old boy quickly says "hush hush- that's not nice." (I am glad he spoke up)
I responded with "It must be funny- because you do not see it often- right? But a woman can be bald- and that can be okay too."
and then as I am minding my own business day dreaming on the swings... watching my friend and her son have an adorable swing moment (trying to tame my biological clock..."ohhh I want one... not now heather not now... but one day... kids are so cute...)
"WOW YOU DON'T HAVE HAIR!"
I mother joyfully announces across the playground...
(no shit sherlock)
We have cheerful chat about Alopecia.... "ALO what?"
She ended up being a bit of a neurotic north coast lively mom- but hey where would we be without the characters right?
By the end of the playground expedition I felt a bit wiped. Not mad, or sad, or anxious (like had been in playground situations in the past) I was just wiped out. There are times I like to hold my head high. But I notice- it's that damn playground... I still gatta say... it will be okay.
And amazingly enough I have to remember... kids= play and attention and compassion= me and I am proud of it- what ever I look like and what ever conversations I have to face. Like tides- they're going to be high/ low/ rough/ calm. I it's about playing. It's about saying... at least I played.
I will try again with the playground and try to remember what I wrote, and what I am feeling that... it is okay to play.
Maybe some sort of structured social system is built into each twist of static plastic, always in good spirit but with a bit of a bite. As a child the playground has always been a historical site of intrepedation. And even as a almost 25 year old woman... my knees start to quake when I think bald woman in playground.
What will the kids think? How will I handle the child yelling monster from above the plastic molded castle, or the kids go upwards the slide- thinking why does she have no hair?
Yes these insecurities exist- I am not going to say they don't. I think these things. And it's good to write it down.
I experienced the playground the other day, while taking a friend's little son to the park with his mom.
"She doens't have hair and it is funny"
The father of the 7ish year old boy quickly says "hush hush- that's not nice." (I am glad he spoke up)
I responded with "It must be funny- because you do not see it often- right? But a woman can be bald- and that can be okay too."
and then as I am minding my own business day dreaming on the swings... watching my friend and her son have an adorable swing moment (trying to tame my biological clock..."ohhh I want one... not now heather not now... but one day... kids are so cute...)
"WOW YOU DON'T HAVE HAIR!"
I mother joyfully announces across the playground...
(no shit sherlock)
We have cheerful chat about Alopecia.... "ALO what?"
She ended up being a bit of a neurotic north coast lively mom- but hey where would we be without the characters right?
By the end of the playground expedition I felt a bit wiped. Not mad, or sad, or anxious (like had been in playground situations in the past) I was just wiped out. There are times I like to hold my head high. But I notice- it's that damn playground... I still gatta say... it will be okay.
And amazingly enough I have to remember... kids= play and attention and compassion= me and I am proud of it- what ever I look like and what ever conversations I have to face. Like tides- they're going to be high/ low/ rough/ calm. I it's about playing. It's about saying... at least I played.
I will try again with the playground and try to remember what I wrote, and what I am feeling that... it is okay to play.
Monday, June 7, 2010
Saturday, June 5, 2010
Horoscope
"You could feel safe enough today to express feelings that you have been keeping to yourself, subsequently making you vulnerable to the feedback you receive. Unfortunately, a close friend or family member may be overly judgmental, sending you into an emotional tailspin. But don't waste time indulging negativity because something good will come from your openhearted disclosure. Be patient; it might take a few days for the positive results to manifest."
Ohh please let this manifest soon....
Ohh please let this manifest soon....
Saturday, May 15, 2010
Friday, May 14, 2010
Frustration tonight-Shit or get off the pot. I'm a changin- times a changin- to get with it or get out.
The sooner they realize i am not the same person, the better for their health. I wish they would realize that. I can't stand when people pinpoint me as something- the true me has been in me- I AM- and it's been waiting to be free. People get scared when they see a confident woman- because it changes it up- it goes against a norm that needs to be destroyed. Patterns and roles in relationships were really on the table tonight- and because I shook it up- people can't handle it- No longer will I be the quiet one- calming the storm. No longer will I say- I am not good enough.
I am. I have worked really really hard to get today- and I think- I THINK I deserve at least 1/2 an acre to feel my pain with hairloss, to express my pain- and to say this sucks- but I am trying.
I'm not asking for "you got it girl" or "you are perfect" or "you are on top of it"
But how about "I see where your walking, it must be really difficult- but I still see you walking. Could I advise this this or this- it may be helpful- let me give you space to talk about it- and I will listen."
If only some people could see the little steps and moments that arise- that help build me for future dreams.
Life plans- what's your next step? This and that-bla.
I know I don't have everything figured out- But am trying to the best of my abilities right now.
Feeling frustrated and defeated- But I will not let that take my power. Sorry- try again next time.
It's like that beatles song, Black Bird....
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
Black bird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
all your life
you were only waiting for this moment to be free
Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.
Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise,
You were only waiting for this moment to arise,
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
I am. I have worked really really hard to get today- and I think- I THINK I deserve at least 1/2 an acre to feel my pain with hairloss, to express my pain- and to say this sucks- but I am trying.
I'm not asking for "you got it girl" or "you are perfect" or "you are on top of it"
But how about "I see where your walking, it must be really difficult- but I still see you walking. Could I advise this this or this- it may be helpful- let me give you space to talk about it- and I will listen."
If only some people could see the little steps and moments that arise- that help build me for future dreams.
Life plans- what's your next step? This and that-bla.
I know I don't have everything figured out- But am trying to the best of my abilities right now.
Feeling frustrated and defeated- But I will not let that take my power. Sorry- try again next time.
It's like that beatles song, Black Bird....
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
Black bird singing in the dead of night
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see
all your life
you were only waiting for this moment to be free
Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.
Blackbird fly, Blackbird fly
Into the light of the dark black night.
Blackbird singing in the dead of night
Take these broken wings and learn to fly
All your life
You were only waiting for this moment to arise,
You were only waiting for this moment to arise,
You were only waiting for this moment to arise
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
The post right before...
Mother's Day- wow- good to hear the proclamation versus hallmark. Thanks to Karen Oliveto's sermon at Glide memorial chuch- it was real- it was place-setting for me to have a deeper understanding of celebration of the mother-wow.
Mother's Day Proclamation by Julia Ward Howe - Mother's Day History
http://womenshistory.about.com/od/howejwriting/a/mothers_day.htm
by Julia Ward Howe
Arise then...women of this day!
Arise, all women who have hearts!
Whether your baptism be of water or of tears!
Say firmly:
"We will not have questions answered by irrelevant agencies,
Our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage,
For caresses and applause.
Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn
All that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.
We, the women of one country,
Will be too tender of those of another country
To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs."
From the bosom of a devastated Earth a voice goes up with
Our own. It says: "Disarm! Disarm!
The sword of murder is not the balance of justice."
Blood does not wipe out dishonor,
Nor violence indicate possession.
As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil
At the summons of war,
Let women now leave all that may be left of home
For a great and earnest day of counsel.
Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead.
Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means
Whereby the great human family can live in peace...
Each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar,
But of God -
In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask
That a general congress of women without limit of nationality,
May be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient
And the earliest period consistent with its objects,
To promote the alliance of the different nationalities,
The amicable settlement of international questions,
The great and general interests of peace.
by Julia Ward Howe
Arise then...women of this day!
Arise, all women who have hearts!
Whether your baptism be of water or of tears!
Say firmly:
"We will not have questions answered by irrelevant agencies,
Our husbands will not come to us, reeking with carnage,
For caresses and applause.
Our sons shall not be taken from us to unlearn
All that we have been able to teach them of charity, mercy and patience.
We, the women of one country,
Will be too tender of those of another country
To allow our sons to be trained to injure theirs."
From the bosom of a devastated Earth a voice goes up with
Our own. It says: "Disarm! Disarm!
The sword of murder is not the balance of justice."
Blood does not wipe out dishonor,
Nor violence indicate possession.
As men have often forsaken the plough and the anvil
At the summons of war,
Let women now leave all that may be left of home
For a great and earnest day of counsel.
Let them meet first, as women, to bewail and commemorate the dead.
Let them solemnly take counsel with each other as to the means
Whereby the great human family can live in peace...
Each bearing after his own time the sacred impress, not of Caesar,
But of God -
In the name of womanhood and humanity, I earnestly ask
That a general congress of women without limit of nationality,
May be appointed and held at someplace deemed most convenient
And the earliest period consistent with its objects,
To promote the alliance of the different nationalities,
The amicable settlement of international questions,
The great and general interests of peace.
Monday, May 10, 2010
Heather Curtis' Sermon at Glide Memorial Church 4/25/10
OPEN: with the words of Kirk Franklin from More than I Can Bear
---------
I've gone through the fire
And I've been through the flood
I've been broken into pieces
Seen lightnin' flashin' from above
But through it all
I remember
That He loves me
And He cares
And He'll never put more on me
Than I can bear
What I was most excited about while speaking at Glide was to say:
“Do you hear me?” And “Oh honey-I hear you.” “Do you see me?” “Oh honey- I see you.” We hear and see each other today at Glide and thank goodness.
So here we go. Hearing and Seeing one another…
I grew up in Mendocino, California- a small foggy “village” on the coast.
At age 15, it was time for me to become an in-de-pen-dent wo-man, also known as…
I was going to get my driver’s license.
Now keep in mind, Mendocino (population 1000)… for driver’s education classes the teens had to go over the hill to the metropolis of Ukiah. (Population: 15,000). So not only did this mean- I was becoming an independent woman, it also meant I was going to be introduced to new people, a broader range of ideas… and…
Cough
Boys.
So as expected, while learning how to do left hand turns in my class, I decided to use this to my advantage. After all, I saw body language being used all over the place, on T.V. and magazine articles of “HOW TO GET YOUR MAN!”
SO…
I put on my pretend blinker then… I swiped my hand through my hair, hoping to get a glimpse of the cute Ukiah boys behind me.
My hand went through my locks, and I felt- yes I got it I got it- they want me they…
My hand stopped to find a bare patch of hair missing at the nape of my neck.
In confusion, I thought “okay okay” try again…
(the magazines said this would work- so it must-right?)
so turned on my imaginary blinker again, and ruffled my hair up, flipping, and doing a dance a bird would do to attract their mate.
But same results, my fingertips stopped at that bald spot.
I kept my finger on that spot for a long time,
and at that moment- the boys behind me fell far away.
I couldn’t connect to what it meant to be a woman in the social cues I had learned.
My life was troubled and far from the reality I thought I knew.
I felt shameful of the blotch of hair missing. I moved from Girl to Woman to Bald.
I was no longer becoming a woman but someone with Alopecia Areata, an autoimmune disease. My hair loss made me disabled in terms of what I thought femininity was, and I thought I was a liability to life.
It was one month after my driver’s education class that my head went from one bald spot to one patch of hair. I decided to shave off the last bits. And although there was liberation with shaving my head, I had an attachment to the last bits of hair…
“if I just hold on to these scraps of hair- I will get it back. Heather will still be here.”
The photo above is the day I shaved my head 9 years ago. This photo haunted me because it was a reminder that the Heather Curtis that was suppose to be living up to “femininity” was now stuck and having to carry on with this difference. I thought I was weak- I didn’t believe in the spirit in me that could carry me through, lift me up, and encourage others along the way.
My difference was a marker that I was not willing to bear.
After a year of being bald, I questioned: “Why me God? Why me?” My anger raged and I was a step away from wanting to end my life.
I needed to come to terms with my difference. The only thing I knew to stay safe and protect my life was to pray it out.
Praise is what I do
Even when I’m going through
See I've learned
To worship you
Know my circumstance
Doesn't even stand a chance!
Cause my praise… outweighs….the bad
In prayer the storm passed over and I felt a distinct clarity.
My clarity taught me about injustices of women, of body, of spirit. I learned that self-hate would only lead disability to liability. What I needed was my disability to become empowerment. I realized that the disease I thought that was holding me back was actually a journey to find my spirit again, to find my voice, to shout out: YOUR DISABILITY DOES NOT HAVE TO BE A LIABILITY ANY LONGER. YOUR STORY IS POWER, VOICE IT- BECAUSE YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT THE SPIRIT WILL BE CALLING YOU TO DO.
Check it- Third grade- Art history lesson. And Christina’s world, by Andrew Wyeth pops up. My teacher states, “She is disabled and longing to get to where she’s going, yet she is stuck in that moment.”
After my hair loss, Christina sang to me. Here is a woman stuck in the isolation of her disability, she longingly looks to the house. And what I am most struck with is a feeling that she just wants to voice it out. Christina wants to tell her story, she wants to get where she’s going because she knows it’s something good.
When I first lost my hair- this painting was about commiserating Christina’s isolation, and wishful ideas. “Will I ever get back to home, to safety, to a place where my disability is not a liability. Will I ever be comfortable again in my own skin?”
But today, Christina is more that just the ability to say- I dream. But this is a painting living out the struggle that WE ALL go through to find ourselves. And to see where and what we are being called to do by God. I know that our chains in our disabilities can have the transformative power to become something mightier than liability, shame, and discomfort. Our disabilities, our differences have the power to make waves, to make change- sustainable change. We have the power to speak about such values that Glide wants to see in this world: RADICAL INCLUSION. TRUTH TELLING. LOVE AND HOPE. WE ARE FOR THE PEOPLE. AND WE CELEBRATE LIFE.
Shake the chains that say we are not good enough; let us sing out our story! Let us transform chains of liability into empowerment!
Philippians 1:12- 14
Now I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel. As a result, it has become clear throughout the whole palace guard and to everyone else that I am in chains for Christ. Because of my chains, most of the brothers and sisters in the Lord have been encouraged to speak the word of God more courageously and fearlessly.
Paul writes in Phillippians about his imprisonment. He talks about how his chains of difference, are used as liability against him, but because of his voice and the collectivity of other voices, ripples are taking affect- change is coming! Disability and difference are no longer risks, but living out a call from God. It is living transformative possibilities, and today we have the ability to take our difference and make it ripple in our work, in our families, in our communities, and in ourselves.
This past year, I was walking down Ellis Street and a man asked me “can you help me?”
I responded “no- sorry sir- no change.”
I kept walking, but did a glance back, to see a man with casts on his hands, trying to zip his jacket.
“Heather he needed help. He needed help.”
I assumed who he was because of his difference and disability- and I was in the wrong and I realized the possibility for change and for connection. Stories can be told, and there can be empowerment in our difference.
I turned around and I ended up having one of the best conversations with this man, talking about difference, talking about overcoming our challenges. I shared my story of hair loss, and he shared his story of life. We both experienced a spiritual uplift and a calling to voice our story.
We all have a calling to voice our story.
No longer is my difference holding me back, no longer is my difference going to tell me I am not good enough.
Own my difference.
Own your difference.
Love my difference.
Love your difference.
Difference as deliverance.
My blotches
Alopecia- there is no hiding the blotches of hair
slowly oozing and leaking from my follicles.
And somehow- this leaking is shame,
somehow this leaking of hair is a loss of the sacred
and somehow loss of humanity
my bald head somehow resembles the loss of the "I am" somebody.
No more!
My spots are precious.
My spots are my story.
My spots are like seasons, they come and go.
They weave in and out
to make the complexity of life a little more manageable.
My spots are mine!
No more will my leaking and oozing of hair be my shame.
It will be more like a graceful leaf falling from that tree in autumn,
Only to come again as something else.
Something new.
Something that makes me feel alive and sing.
No more will I call myself ugly for the things I lack.
No longer will I make my grief…hurt.
No longer will I feel like I am giving something up if I shave off my locks.
No longer will I feel the sacred as being shaved away.
The sacred is in me
I am
and I love my spots.
Here, there, everywhere.
My spots now and forever
are mine.
-------------------------
If I could do one thing in this world for healing, for strength, it would be to say:
you have it
you rock it
you voice it.
Your words are power.
Those words of story will bring you to call. Your story will bring you to spirit. The spirit will take your liability of disability away, you will be able to stand, you will be able to speak. Your chains will ripple in the voices and lives of others. Our brothers and sisters will seek the radical inclusion, truth telling, love and hope, and celebration that this planet deserves. We celebrate life here at Glide because it is time to tell.
It’s time to get up Christina and get were your going
It’s time to get up Heather and get were your going
It’s time for you to get up and get were your going
It’s time for EVERYBODY to get up to get were your going
Because the thing that holds you back is no longer a liability
Because the thing that holds you back will not take away your spirit.
AMEN.
---------
I've gone through the fire
And I've been through the flood
I've been broken into pieces
Seen lightnin' flashin' from above
But through it all
I remember
That He loves me
And He cares
And He'll never put more on me
Than I can bear
What I was most excited about while speaking at Glide was to say:
“Do you hear me?” And “Oh honey-I hear you.” “Do you see me?” “Oh honey- I see you.” We hear and see each other today at Glide and thank goodness.
So here we go. Hearing and Seeing one another…
I grew up in Mendocino, California- a small foggy “village” on the coast.
At age 15, it was time for me to become an in-de-pen-dent wo-man, also known as…
I was going to get my driver’s license.
Now keep in mind, Mendocino (population 1000)… for driver’s education classes the teens had to go over the hill to the metropolis of Ukiah. (Population: 15,000). So not only did this mean- I was becoming an independent woman, it also meant I was going to be introduced to new people, a broader range of ideas… and…
Cough
Boys.
So as expected, while learning how to do left hand turns in my class, I decided to use this to my advantage. After all, I saw body language being used all over the place, on T.V. and magazine articles of “HOW TO GET YOUR MAN!”
SO…
I put on my pretend blinker then… I swiped my hand through my hair, hoping to get a glimpse of the cute Ukiah boys behind me.
My hand went through my locks, and I felt- yes I got it I got it- they want me they…
My hand stopped to find a bare patch of hair missing at the nape of my neck.
In confusion, I thought “okay okay” try again…
(the magazines said this would work- so it must-right?)
so turned on my imaginary blinker again, and ruffled my hair up, flipping, and doing a dance a bird would do to attract their mate.
But same results, my fingertips stopped at that bald spot.
I kept my finger on that spot for a long time,
and at that moment- the boys behind me fell far away.
I couldn’t connect to what it meant to be a woman in the social cues I had learned.
My life was troubled and far from the reality I thought I knew.
I felt shameful of the blotch of hair missing. I moved from Girl to Woman to Bald.
I was no longer becoming a woman but someone with Alopecia Areata, an autoimmune disease. My hair loss made me disabled in terms of what I thought femininity was, and I thought I was a liability to life.
It was one month after my driver’s education class that my head went from one bald spot to one patch of hair. I decided to shave off the last bits. And although there was liberation with shaving my head, I had an attachment to the last bits of hair…
“if I just hold on to these scraps of hair- I will get it back. Heather will still be here.”
The photo above is the day I shaved my head 9 years ago. This photo haunted me because it was a reminder that the Heather Curtis that was suppose to be living up to “femininity” was now stuck and having to carry on with this difference. I thought I was weak- I didn’t believe in the spirit in me that could carry me through, lift me up, and encourage others along the way.
My difference was a marker that I was not willing to bear.
After a year of being bald, I questioned: “Why me God? Why me?” My anger raged and I was a step away from wanting to end my life.
I needed to come to terms with my difference. The only thing I knew to stay safe and protect my life was to pray it out.
Praise is what I do
Even when I’m going through
See I've learned
To worship you
Know my circumstance
Doesn't even stand a chance!
Cause my praise… outweighs….the bad
In prayer the storm passed over and I felt a distinct clarity.
My clarity taught me about injustices of women, of body, of spirit. I learned that self-hate would only lead disability to liability. What I needed was my disability to become empowerment. I realized that the disease I thought that was holding me back was actually a journey to find my spirit again, to find my voice, to shout out: YOUR DISABILITY DOES NOT HAVE TO BE A LIABILITY ANY LONGER. YOUR STORY IS POWER, VOICE IT- BECAUSE YOU NEVER KNOW WHAT THE SPIRIT WILL BE CALLING YOU TO DO.
Check it- Third grade- Art history lesson. And Christina’s world, by Andrew Wyeth pops up. My teacher states, “She is disabled and longing to get to where she’s going, yet she is stuck in that moment.”
After my hair loss, Christina sang to me. Here is a woman stuck in the isolation of her disability, she longingly looks to the house. And what I am most struck with is a feeling that she just wants to voice it out. Christina wants to tell her story, she wants to get where she’s going because she knows it’s something good.
When I first lost my hair- this painting was about commiserating Christina’s isolation, and wishful ideas. “Will I ever get back to home, to safety, to a place where my disability is not a liability. Will I ever be comfortable again in my own skin?”
But today, Christina is more that just the ability to say- I dream. But this is a painting living out the struggle that WE ALL go through to find ourselves. And to see where and what we are being called to do by God. I know that our chains in our disabilities can have the transformative power to become something mightier than liability, shame, and discomfort. Our disabilities, our differences have the power to make waves, to make change- sustainable change. We have the power to speak about such values that Glide wants to see in this world: RADICAL INCLUSION. TRUTH TELLING. LOVE AND HOPE. WE ARE FOR THE PEOPLE. AND WE CELEBRATE LIFE.
Shake the chains that say we are not good enough; let us sing out our story! Let us transform chains of liability into empowerment!
Philippians 1:12- 14
Now I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel. As a result, it has become clear throughout the whole palace guard and to everyone else that I am in chains for Christ. Because of my chains, most of the brothers and sisters in the Lord have been encouraged to speak the word of God more courageously and fearlessly.
Paul writes in Phillippians about his imprisonment. He talks about how his chains of difference, are used as liability against him, but because of his voice and the collectivity of other voices, ripples are taking affect- change is coming! Disability and difference are no longer risks, but living out a call from God. It is living transformative possibilities, and today we have the ability to take our difference and make it ripple in our work, in our families, in our communities, and in ourselves.
This past year, I was walking down Ellis Street and a man asked me “can you help me?”
I responded “no- sorry sir- no change.”
I kept walking, but did a glance back, to see a man with casts on his hands, trying to zip his jacket.
“Heather he needed help. He needed help.”
I assumed who he was because of his difference and disability- and I was in the wrong and I realized the possibility for change and for connection. Stories can be told, and there can be empowerment in our difference.
I turned around and I ended up having one of the best conversations with this man, talking about difference, talking about overcoming our challenges. I shared my story of hair loss, and he shared his story of life. We both experienced a spiritual uplift and a calling to voice our story.
We all have a calling to voice our story.
No longer is my difference holding me back, no longer is my difference going to tell me I am not good enough.
Own my difference.
Own your difference.
Love my difference.
Love your difference.
Difference as deliverance.
My blotches
Alopecia- there is no hiding the blotches of hair
slowly oozing and leaking from my follicles.
And somehow- this leaking is shame,
somehow this leaking of hair is a loss of the sacred
and somehow loss of humanity
my bald head somehow resembles the loss of the "I am" somebody.
No more!
My spots are precious.
My spots are my story.
My spots are like seasons, they come and go.
They weave in and out
to make the complexity of life a little more manageable.
My spots are mine!
No more will my leaking and oozing of hair be my shame.
It will be more like a graceful leaf falling from that tree in autumn,
Only to come again as something else.
Something new.
Something that makes me feel alive and sing.
No more will I call myself ugly for the things I lack.
No longer will I make my grief…hurt.
No longer will I feel like I am giving something up if I shave off my locks.
No longer will I feel the sacred as being shaved away.
The sacred is in me
I am
and I love my spots.
Here, there, everywhere.
My spots now and forever
are mine.
-------------------------
If I could do one thing in this world for healing, for strength, it would be to say:
you have it
you rock it
you voice it.
Your words are power.
Those words of story will bring you to call. Your story will bring you to spirit. The spirit will take your liability of disability away, you will be able to stand, you will be able to speak. Your chains will ripple in the voices and lives of others. Our brothers and sisters will seek the radical inclusion, truth telling, love and hope, and celebration that this planet deserves. We celebrate life here at Glide because it is time to tell.
It’s time to get up Christina and get were your going
It’s time to get up Heather and get were your going
It’s time for you to get up and get were your going
It’s time for EVERYBODY to get up to get were your going
Because the thing that holds you back is no longer a liability
Because the thing that holds you back will not take away your spirit.
AMEN.
Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Maya Angelou- And Still I rise
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I'll rise.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Thursday, April 1, 2010
Thursday, March 25, 2010
If it's goina go- GO!
I am at the bits and pieces stage with my Alopecia. So it started with a lake of bare scalp, and extended to oceans and continents. Now- water world of baldness, with a small island. Hell, if my head is like this, I might as well be as isolated on an island- Hawaii here I come with a bowl of poke and coconut juice- yum yum. Alopecia- there is no hiding the blotches of hair slowly oozing and leaking from my follicles. And somehow- this leaking is shame, somehow this leaking of hair as a loss of the sacred and somehow loss of humanity- loss of the "I am" somebody.
No more,
My spots are precious.
My spots are story.
My spots are like my seasons, they come and go.
They weave in and out to make the complexity of life around a little more manageable.
My spots are mine.
No more will my leaking and oozing of hair be shame.
It will be more like a graceful leaf falling from that tree in autumn,
Only to come again as something else.
No more will I call myself ugly for the things I lack.
No longer will I make my grief hurt.
No longer will I feel like I am giving something up if I shave off my locks.
No longer will I feel the sacred as being shaved away.
The sacred is in me
I am
and I love my spots
Here, there, everywhere.
My spots now and forever are mine.
No more,
My spots are precious.
My spots are story.
My spots are like my seasons, they come and go.
They weave in and out to make the complexity of life around a little more manageable.
My spots are mine.
No more will my leaking and oozing of hair be shame.
It will be more like a graceful leaf falling from that tree in autumn,
Only to come again as something else.
No more will I call myself ugly for the things I lack.
No longer will I make my grief hurt.
No longer will I feel like I am giving something up if I shave off my locks.
No longer will I feel the sacred as being shaved away.
The sacred is in me
I am
and I love my spots
Here, there, everywhere.
My spots now and forever are mine.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Monday, February 22, 2010
thoughts and memories
Alopecia Thoughts and Memories:
I lost my hair when I was 15 1/2. So I never actually knew what it was like to be a kid with Alopecia. But Here are some thoughts of pressures and experiences from my teenage years as a Bald girl going onto becoming a bald woman.
I grew up in Mendocino, California- a small foggy “village” on the coast. When 15, it was time for me to become a woman- an independent woman. I was going to get my driver’s license which meant I could drive towards my successful future. For driver’s education classes the teens had to go over the hill to the metropolis of Ukiah (population 15,500). So not only did this mean- I was becoming a woman and independent, it also meant I was going to be introduced to new people, a broader range of people...
Cough...
Boys.
So as expected, while learning how to do left hand turns, I decided to use this to my advantage. I put my pretend blinker on, then based out of my body language I had learned to attract a mate, I swiped my hand through my hair. I had seen this done around me in television, other women, and magazine articles of “how to get your man”.
My hand went through my locks, and I felt- "yes I got it I got it- they want me they…"
My hand stopped to find a bare patch.
In confusion, I thought okay try again- so turned on my imaginary left blinker again, and ruffled my hair up, flipping, and doing a dance a bird would do to attract their mate. Same results, my finger tips stopped at the bald spot.
I kept my finger on that spot for a while, and at that moment- the boys fell far away from me, I couldn’t connect to what it meant to be a woman in the social cues I had learned. And I knew at that point my life was troubled and far from the reality I thought I knew.
------
That is a piece I might read at Glide sometime, but thought I would share with you my first noticing of bald patches.
-----
Days of the Hats:
It was the first two weeks in December that I noticed the bare spots. Right after the driver's license classes, I started waking up with my pillow covered in hair. Almost, like a pillow case made of hair. In the shower, I was easily able to pull handfuls of hair out. I wasn't so worried the first week, but I then had to tell my mom- "I noticed am losing a lot of hair- it's probably what I had in fifth grade- right?"
In fifth grade, I lost a quarter sized spot of hair, near the nape of my neck (the same spot where I lost the first patch at 15). My mom- everyday would treat it with vitamin e, and aloe vera- thinking that it was a skin sensitivity to shampoos. The hair grew back in about 3 months and I didn't think about it. My friends never knew about it because it was easily hidden.
So I assumed- okay mom- get the vitamin e out- let's do this again. But by christmas 50% of my hair was gone. By the 1st- I had less then 1/4 of my hair. And by January 26th, I had a few strands. Socially- I hid. I didn't want to go out, I wanted to isolate myself. I felt like I was sick and I was possibly dying, and the doctors just didn't know why, but I wasn't and my dermatologist didn't know at first that I had Alopecia. It wasn't until the second or third visit that he said- ohh new research says there is this disease called "Alopecia" I wore hats to school. People were wondering why I was always wearing hats. I was a student teacher in my old elementary school, teaching effective nonviolent communication to 3rd and 5th graders. The kids always called me hat girl- why do you always wear hats? I always just replied with it's winter and cold.
But by the 26th, my two best friends- enouraged me to shave the rest off. I didn't want to at first and had to take convincing, because I felt if I kept those strands, I didn't lose everything. Which was an equivalent for- if I kept the strands- I would not lose all of my self, of what I knew of my identity.
But alas, I shaved it off. I have a picture of me getting my head shaved- and as much as I hated that picture- brace faced, nervous, and obviously looking in pain. I use to think that was now who I was. Ugly, a nervous wreck, and full of pain. I now see that picture and I realize how far I have come with self, social identity, and the work I have done for empowerment. I use it as a tool for hope- and a reminder of all the work I still have to do in myself and my community. (I will try to send you a copy).
So after I shaved- remember falling asleep at my friends house- trying to rehearse- what am I going to tell my parents- how am I going to tell my parents? I awoke the next day, sleepy eyed, sat up from my friends bed, she had a mirror across the room. I remember seeing myself- and being spooked- thinking someone else was in the room. When I looked in that mirror I was conviced I was a monster- I was gone.
For the next year I wore hats. The first few days- there were a bunch of rumors going around- where is Heather's hair- why does she always wear those hats? Is Heather sick? The year of the hats drove me crazy because it was hot, itchy, and plain socially uncomfortable. It was the following summer I started wearing scarves.
-------
Bad tans
Once I started wearing scarves, it was known- I was bald. My scarves were like my attachment blankets. I couldn't go anywhere without my scarf. I had a special way to tie it on, in every color you could think of, but I prefered neautral tones. I felt that neutral tones- earthy colors- I could hide more easily- I wasn't bald girl with scarf, I could blend more easily then. I feel like those neutral colors really represented what I was feeling on the inside- battling with a feeling of lack of self, a monster, guilty and shameful that I thought I did something to bring this on.
It was the during a summertime I realized the joke in having such a great attachment to a scarf. It came from a bad tan in Red Bluff. Red as a beet face, with a bright white scalp.
The final stage of coming out bald was when I was with my friend- we walked to the post office- I completely forgot I was not wearing anything, we made it half way there, I realized- paniced and wanted to go home. My friend said no- we are not walking back. I remember being so mad at her for not letting us go back- why is she making me do this? The world is looking at me!
She stopped me and looked me straight in the eye and said. "No one is looking- you are fine. You aren't going to die by walking to the post office." We continued on. During that walk I swear I thought I saw children falling into doorways, people walking into things, cars swerving, things exploding, I thought I was seeing a catastrophe. I was really quiet and in my mind. Next thing you know- my friend and I were back at her house. I looked down the street- and I realized I had survived. I was okay. And my attachment was gone- the scarves became the object at the bottom of my sock drawer.
-------------------------
Beauty Parlor 101:
The Curtis' are like an italian family (even though we are half german/ half scottish)- when you go on a trip you take the kitchen sink and the family goat, figurative speech. About a month after shaving my head, my mom said- well I guess we need to get you a wig. I said- "I guess so". So as expected, mom got in the car, dad got in the car, the two dogs, bags of apples for grandpa, the dog beds, our bags, and the rest of our nonsense things that I doubt we needed for me to get a wig. Our four hour trip to San Rafael, Ca turned into an 8 hour leg journey, how usual car trips went for our family.
We pulled into a small parking lot next to an old Victorian in San Rafael- this is where I am going to get my wig? Is it at someone's house. We made our way in to the nicely restored home to find a waiting room much like a dentist office. And I don't know about you but when I am in the waiting room of a dentist office- my blood pressure rises- pain is usually involved and I wanted to get the hell out of there. The secretary gave us insurance papers to fill out.
I looked around searching for the red checkered 1950's floor, the hair curling and drying machines, the fumes of hair dye, and women named ronda or vonda telling the latest gossip from the town. All I saw was magazines stating "cancer and you", "aging and you", "golf weekly", and insurance papers- stating what is your need? Is it cosmetic of medical?
A couple in their 70's came out and I heard them say- "poor child- she is so young" they gazed at me and I could see they were processing my death from cancer. The secretary called me "Heather, we're ready for you."
I got into a the room of wigs, oddly to my surprise- the room was decorated very similar to a young girls bed room with a vanity table, curling irons, scissors, and, wigs on maniquin lined the walls. The woman, was sweet and said "let's find you something fun." I knew I was in the twilight zone at that point and would have not been surprised if killer clowns were going to pop out.
For about two hours- she trimmed, tucked, and styled a wig. And finally all I saw in my the mirror was a girl I didn't like from my high school. All I saw in the mirror was not me. After two hours- I was exhausted- I lied and said- that's it- that's what I want. I looked in the mirror. I was sandra dee from grease. They gave me a moment and I said Hi sandra- this is me.
I got back to my grandfathers house, my mom said- why don't you wear the wig to dinner- I said yeah I guess so- I went to the restroom- put it on- I looked at myself in disbelief- where is Heather- where am I? Who the hell am I? I took the wig off- and told my mom I wasn't wearing it. I never wore it. I felt a little bad- my mom spent so much money on it- but it was always a good part of halloween costumes in the future.
Out of the whole experience with buying a wig- I realized I was not going get the experience of the beauty parlor- there would always be a sphere of twilight zone between me and standard American grooming experience. I was different- and I wasn't going to get the chance to be that woman talking to vonda or ronda about my womenly things and happenings of town. I was separate from that experience.
-----------
Socially- I heard rumors of concern for me from my peers: Is Heather sick? Does Heather have cancer? Is Heather, like... dying?
But I remember feeling the pressure of dating.
My friends would tell guys-
"ohh what do you think of my friend Heather?"
"Heather Who?"
"You know taller girl, blue eyes, bald".
"oh yeah the bald chick- she's cool, I guess. Hey Kenny- get me another budlight" (yeah I went to too many tire fire- hick parties- maybe that was the issue haha)
I had a friend that said she felt bad for me that I was bald. "I mean it's going to be hard to find a guy to get over that your bald" (Note: I'm not close with that person anymore)
I had people that said I had demons that were in me. I got from other's that God is punishing me. I also got that I lost my hair to cell phone radiation and wanted me to speak about it.
-------
The biggest part was my idea of who I was in dating. I didn't date much in high school- was a late bloomer. So A) I wasn't that interested in dating until I hit college- because I was in a different hormonal place as my peers, and most of the boys in my school were either brother status or waste of time status. B) I did really believe that I wasn't worth the time to date- I had built up- like stated in the drivers license story- that getting a man- required certain assets- and if you didn't have that- thought luck- your out of the game. Very Darwin survival of the fittest attitude. Fortunately- that thinking has changed- but I catch my self with self- defeating thoughts at times and have to over correct.
So for a female teen to lose their hair I feel the top three issues was:
1)Identity and Femininity (Do I have to now over-feminize myself too make the point that I am woman?)
2)Dating/ sexual appeal
3) "Coming out" as bald
-------------------------
I suffered a year long amount of depression. But after the first year, I had a spiritual realization. And the things that got me through was a spirituality, positive encouraging support networks, and art. I began painting and photography- and found it as mediums in which I could escape from my negative thoughts, and then I started using it as a way to voice my pain- and allowed me to start making claims in my identity. It allowed me to explore- "alright now who is this Heather Curtis person- now post hair loss."
Spirituality- I am a big believer and appreciator of all walks of faith. I grew up presbyterian, so the easiest for me was to claim back into a tradition in which I knew. It was extremely challenging because I had a dicotomy of anger towards God- but also this need to have a guiding light, if you want to call it that. I needed a rebirth. (haha - yeah so many jokes of the second coming of christ etc...) But I bagan researching different walks of faith, I got coupled with a youth leader that I could dicuss the bible- and ask "hard questions", she challenged me extremely- we disagreed quite a bit- but I valued her insight because it allowed me to clearly define what I needed in my walk of faith/ spirituality. I am a believer that we got a spirit in us, guiding us, helping us to find reassurance and hope- to work towards love and justice for everybody. I have found a saving grace in my loss. Through spirituality, support, and art.
Support-
Let's just say- I have family issues- that goes into a deeper psychoanalysis of my life- I don't think I will smear that out. But Parents- even though there was the teen angst, family history issues- my parents were there for me like no other. My mom would always say- "this too shall pass"- those were some words that made me survive the first year of my hair loss. My Dad was a huge comfort as well- always reassuring me to keep my eye on the prize of life- and good things will happen- education was the key. My sister and I became friends again because she wanted to be there for me. And I almost have to thank Alopecia for strengthening my relationship with my sister. Friends and family really came together to let me go through it- how ever I needed too.
Later in college I remember a child screaming in a store calling me a monster and that I was scary- it broke my heart that I might upset kids with just being me. But I realize now- poor parenting in that situation, and if I am comfortable with my hair loss- children will be too. And that goes with a lot of life. And not wearing a scarf- when I was cool- the world was cool. And when odd awakenings about my hair loss, or weird encounters with inappropriate comments- I take it with a grain of salt- a deep breath and a laugh to myself- ohh the work yet to be done in my myself and the world, but this too shall pass. And keep moving.
As for Alopecia with younger kids. My first bf in college lost his hair when he was six. He didn't talk about it much, he said- he had his hair back and it was too traumatic to talk about. it was something in the past. Our personalities didn't jive well and broke up 3 months later. But he did state he received teasing.
Also good books for kids experiences with kids with Alopecia Areata is:
Princess Alopecia
And
The Girl with no hair
ALSO- the main website for the National Alopecia Areata foundation is
www.naaf.org
I lost my hair when I was 15 1/2. So I never actually knew what it was like to be a kid with Alopecia. But Here are some thoughts of pressures and experiences from my teenage years as a Bald girl going onto becoming a bald woman.
I grew up in Mendocino, California- a small foggy “village” on the coast. When 15, it was time for me to become a woman- an independent woman. I was going to get my driver’s license which meant I could drive towards my successful future. For driver’s education classes the teens had to go over the hill to the metropolis of Ukiah (population 15,500). So not only did this mean- I was becoming a woman and independent, it also meant I was going to be introduced to new people, a broader range of people...
Cough...
Boys.
So as expected, while learning how to do left hand turns, I decided to use this to my advantage. I put my pretend blinker on, then based out of my body language I had learned to attract a mate, I swiped my hand through my hair. I had seen this done around me in television, other women, and magazine articles of “how to get your man”.
My hand went through my locks, and I felt- "yes I got it I got it- they want me they…"
My hand stopped to find a bare patch.
In confusion, I thought okay try again- so turned on my imaginary left blinker again, and ruffled my hair up, flipping, and doing a dance a bird would do to attract their mate. Same results, my finger tips stopped at the bald spot.
I kept my finger on that spot for a while, and at that moment- the boys fell far away from me, I couldn’t connect to what it meant to be a woman in the social cues I had learned. And I knew at that point my life was troubled and far from the reality I thought I knew.
------
That is a piece I might read at Glide sometime, but thought I would share with you my first noticing of bald patches.
-----
Days of the Hats:
It was the first two weeks in December that I noticed the bare spots. Right after the driver's license classes, I started waking up with my pillow covered in hair. Almost, like a pillow case made of hair. In the shower, I was easily able to pull handfuls of hair out. I wasn't so worried the first week, but I then had to tell my mom- "I noticed am losing a lot of hair- it's probably what I had in fifth grade- right?"
In fifth grade, I lost a quarter sized spot of hair, near the nape of my neck (the same spot where I lost the first patch at 15). My mom- everyday would treat it with vitamin e, and aloe vera- thinking that it was a skin sensitivity to shampoos. The hair grew back in about 3 months and I didn't think about it. My friends never knew about it because it was easily hidden.
So I assumed- okay mom- get the vitamin e out- let's do this again. But by christmas 50% of my hair was gone. By the 1st- I had less then 1/4 of my hair. And by January 26th, I had a few strands. Socially- I hid. I didn't want to go out, I wanted to isolate myself. I felt like I was sick and I was possibly dying, and the doctors just didn't know why, but I wasn't and my dermatologist didn't know at first that I had Alopecia. It wasn't until the second or third visit that he said- ohh new research says there is this disease called "Alopecia" I wore hats to school. People were wondering why I was always wearing hats. I was a student teacher in my old elementary school, teaching effective nonviolent communication to 3rd and 5th graders. The kids always called me hat girl- why do you always wear hats? I always just replied with it's winter and cold.
But by the 26th, my two best friends- enouraged me to shave the rest off. I didn't want to at first and had to take convincing, because I felt if I kept those strands, I didn't lose everything. Which was an equivalent for- if I kept the strands- I would not lose all of my self, of what I knew of my identity.
But alas, I shaved it off. I have a picture of me getting my head shaved- and as much as I hated that picture- brace faced, nervous, and obviously looking in pain. I use to think that was now who I was. Ugly, a nervous wreck, and full of pain. I now see that picture and I realize how far I have come with self, social identity, and the work I have done for empowerment. I use it as a tool for hope- and a reminder of all the work I still have to do in myself and my community. (I will try to send you a copy).
So after I shaved- remember falling asleep at my friends house- trying to rehearse- what am I going to tell my parents- how am I going to tell my parents? I awoke the next day, sleepy eyed, sat up from my friends bed, she had a mirror across the room. I remember seeing myself- and being spooked- thinking someone else was in the room. When I looked in that mirror I was conviced I was a monster- I was gone.
For the next year I wore hats. The first few days- there were a bunch of rumors going around- where is Heather's hair- why does she always wear those hats? Is Heather sick? The year of the hats drove me crazy because it was hot, itchy, and plain socially uncomfortable. It was the following summer I started wearing scarves.
-------
Bad tans
Once I started wearing scarves, it was known- I was bald. My scarves were like my attachment blankets. I couldn't go anywhere without my scarf. I had a special way to tie it on, in every color you could think of, but I prefered neautral tones. I felt that neutral tones- earthy colors- I could hide more easily- I wasn't bald girl with scarf, I could blend more easily then. I feel like those neutral colors really represented what I was feeling on the inside- battling with a feeling of lack of self, a monster, guilty and shameful that I thought I did something to bring this on.
It was the during a summertime I realized the joke in having such a great attachment to a scarf. It came from a bad tan in Red Bluff. Red as a beet face, with a bright white scalp.
The final stage of coming out bald was when I was with my friend- we walked to the post office- I completely forgot I was not wearing anything, we made it half way there, I realized- paniced and wanted to go home. My friend said no- we are not walking back. I remember being so mad at her for not letting us go back- why is she making me do this? The world is looking at me!
She stopped me and looked me straight in the eye and said. "No one is looking- you are fine. You aren't going to die by walking to the post office." We continued on. During that walk I swear I thought I saw children falling into doorways, people walking into things, cars swerving, things exploding, I thought I was seeing a catastrophe. I was really quiet and in my mind. Next thing you know- my friend and I were back at her house. I looked down the street- and I realized I had survived. I was okay. And my attachment was gone- the scarves became the object at the bottom of my sock drawer.
-------------------------
Beauty Parlor 101:
The Curtis' are like an italian family (even though we are half german/ half scottish)- when you go on a trip you take the kitchen sink and the family goat, figurative speech. About a month after shaving my head, my mom said- well I guess we need to get you a wig. I said- "I guess so". So as expected, mom got in the car, dad got in the car, the two dogs, bags of apples for grandpa, the dog beds, our bags, and the rest of our nonsense things that I doubt we needed for me to get a wig. Our four hour trip to San Rafael, Ca turned into an 8 hour leg journey, how usual car trips went for our family.
We pulled into a small parking lot next to an old Victorian in San Rafael- this is where I am going to get my wig? Is it at someone's house. We made our way in to the nicely restored home to find a waiting room much like a dentist office. And I don't know about you but when I am in the waiting room of a dentist office- my blood pressure rises- pain is usually involved and I wanted to get the hell out of there. The secretary gave us insurance papers to fill out.
I looked around searching for the red checkered 1950's floor, the hair curling and drying machines, the fumes of hair dye, and women named ronda or vonda telling the latest gossip from the town. All I saw was magazines stating "cancer and you", "aging and you", "golf weekly", and insurance papers- stating what is your need? Is it cosmetic of medical?
A couple in their 70's came out and I heard them say- "poor child- she is so young" they gazed at me and I could see they were processing my death from cancer. The secretary called me "Heather, we're ready for you."
I got into a the room of wigs, oddly to my surprise- the room was decorated very similar to a young girls bed room with a vanity table, curling irons, scissors, and, wigs on maniquin lined the walls. The woman, was sweet and said "let's find you something fun." I knew I was in the twilight zone at that point and would have not been surprised if killer clowns were going to pop out.
For about two hours- she trimmed, tucked, and styled a wig. And finally all I saw in my the mirror was a girl I didn't like from my high school. All I saw in the mirror was not me. After two hours- I was exhausted- I lied and said- that's it- that's what I want. I looked in the mirror. I was sandra dee from grease. They gave me a moment and I said Hi sandra- this is me.
I got back to my grandfathers house, my mom said- why don't you wear the wig to dinner- I said yeah I guess so- I went to the restroom- put it on- I looked at myself in disbelief- where is Heather- where am I? Who the hell am I? I took the wig off- and told my mom I wasn't wearing it. I never wore it. I felt a little bad- my mom spent so much money on it- but it was always a good part of halloween costumes in the future.
Out of the whole experience with buying a wig- I realized I was not going get the experience of the beauty parlor- there would always be a sphere of twilight zone between me and standard American grooming experience. I was different- and I wasn't going to get the chance to be that woman talking to vonda or ronda about my womenly things and happenings of town. I was separate from that experience.
-----------
Socially- I heard rumors of concern for me from my peers: Is Heather sick? Does Heather have cancer? Is Heather, like... dying?
But I remember feeling the pressure of dating.
My friends would tell guys-
"ohh what do you think of my friend Heather?"
"Heather Who?"
"You know taller girl, blue eyes, bald".
"oh yeah the bald chick- she's cool, I guess. Hey Kenny- get me another budlight" (yeah I went to too many tire fire- hick parties- maybe that was the issue haha)
I had a friend that said she felt bad for me that I was bald. "I mean it's going to be hard to find a guy to get over that your bald" (Note: I'm not close with that person anymore)
I had people that said I had demons that were in me. I got from other's that God is punishing me. I also got that I lost my hair to cell phone radiation and wanted me to speak about it.
-------
The biggest part was my idea of who I was in dating. I didn't date much in high school- was a late bloomer. So A) I wasn't that interested in dating until I hit college- because I was in a different hormonal place as my peers, and most of the boys in my school were either brother status or waste of time status. B) I did really believe that I wasn't worth the time to date- I had built up- like stated in the drivers license story- that getting a man- required certain assets- and if you didn't have that- thought luck- your out of the game. Very Darwin survival of the fittest attitude. Fortunately- that thinking has changed- but I catch my self with self- defeating thoughts at times and have to over correct.
So for a female teen to lose their hair I feel the top three issues was:
1)Identity and Femininity (Do I have to now over-feminize myself too make the point that I am woman?)
2)Dating/ sexual appeal
3) "Coming out" as bald
-------------------------
I suffered a year long amount of depression. But after the first year, I had a spiritual realization. And the things that got me through was a spirituality, positive encouraging support networks, and art. I began painting and photography- and found it as mediums in which I could escape from my negative thoughts, and then I started using it as a way to voice my pain- and allowed me to start making claims in my identity. It allowed me to explore- "alright now who is this Heather Curtis person- now post hair loss."
Spirituality- I am a big believer and appreciator of all walks of faith. I grew up presbyterian, so the easiest for me was to claim back into a tradition in which I knew. It was extremely challenging because I had a dicotomy of anger towards God- but also this need to have a guiding light, if you want to call it that. I needed a rebirth. (haha - yeah so many jokes of the second coming of christ etc...) But I bagan researching different walks of faith, I got coupled with a youth leader that I could dicuss the bible- and ask "hard questions", she challenged me extremely- we disagreed quite a bit- but I valued her insight because it allowed me to clearly define what I needed in my walk of faith/ spirituality. I am a believer that we got a spirit in us, guiding us, helping us to find reassurance and hope- to work towards love and justice for everybody. I have found a saving grace in my loss. Through spirituality, support, and art.
Support-
Let's just say- I have family issues- that goes into a deeper psychoanalysis of my life- I don't think I will smear that out. But Parents- even though there was the teen angst, family history issues- my parents were there for me like no other. My mom would always say- "this too shall pass"- those were some words that made me survive the first year of my hair loss. My Dad was a huge comfort as well- always reassuring me to keep my eye on the prize of life- and good things will happen- education was the key. My sister and I became friends again because she wanted to be there for me. And I almost have to thank Alopecia for strengthening my relationship with my sister. Friends and family really came together to let me go through it- how ever I needed too.
Later in college I remember a child screaming in a store calling me a monster and that I was scary- it broke my heart that I might upset kids with just being me. But I realize now- poor parenting in that situation, and if I am comfortable with my hair loss- children will be too. And that goes with a lot of life. And not wearing a scarf- when I was cool- the world was cool. And when odd awakenings about my hair loss, or weird encounters with inappropriate comments- I take it with a grain of salt- a deep breath and a laugh to myself- ohh the work yet to be done in my myself and the world, but this too shall pass. And keep moving.
As for Alopecia with younger kids. My first bf in college lost his hair when he was six. He didn't talk about it much, he said- he had his hair back and it was too traumatic to talk about. it was something in the past. Our personalities didn't jive well and broke up 3 months later. But he did state he received teasing.
Also good books for kids experiences with kids with Alopecia Areata is:
Princess Alopecia
And
The Girl with no hair
ALSO- the main website for the National Alopecia Areata foundation is
www.naaf.org
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Get ready
Get ready.
When the cosmos collide- sometimes you can find a clarity in all of the nonsensical ideas- astroids bouncing around. Hmm I would like to do a painting about this. But motivation to paint wears off in a bus ride these days. I get on the bus- I am going to go paint this. By the time I get home it's snack time on zargut and carrots, facebook, and Law and order. Where did my climbing apple trees, carefree arty ways go? Did I leave that behind with childhood. Haha, I think it is still there, but I do have to admit that tv these days have been sucking me in. Favorite shows: The office, V, Law and order, and brothers and sisters. I don't want to admit it but Desparate Housewives has been sucking me in- I deny it though.
I have started counseling again and I have to say- thank goodness. I was leaving there today and I realize, it is so nice to talk with someone to just say it all- and this counselor is awesome that she takes my words and puts it into relation, and context- and it makes me realize so many more things, options for my life than I ever had enter my brain.
Life is a bit up in the air right now, needing more work for money honey. But for some reason I am not panicing (yet). I am really trying to enjoy the rest of my internship and see where life/ spirit takes me. Grad school apps done. Finaid in. And I just ate an awesome breakfast at the Grove cafe on Fillmore. Eggs florentine "Dave's way"- ever go- you should try. So all in all things are right with the world.
It is a bit strange to not be doing work at the grove, but honestly gettting distracted by facebook and jersey shore quotes online, as I look around and see bizniz meetings, and conference calls of fancy working suited men and women. And here I am reading Jersey shore quotes. :/ There was a moment when I was like "what am I doing"... and then I read....
"Everybody at the Shore definitely knows The Situation. As far as I know, everybody loves The Situation, and if you don't love The Situation, I'm gonna make you love The Situation."
And I knew I needed to read on with my distration. Because so many times I close my self off from having fun- to say "get your shit done."
Well- I am today going to allow myself the 5 minutes to goof off....
Okay finished reading the jersey shore quotes.
Now I am ready.
And in the great words of Pauly from there....
"We’re beatin’-up-the-beat, that’s what we say when we’re doing our fist pump. First, we start off by banging the ground, we’re banging it as the beat builds ‘cause that beat’s hittin’ us so we’re fightin’ back, it’s like we beat up that beat."
Maybe this is how we gotta roll with life. Just beat up the beats......
O my gosh- I just compared these boys with life wisedom. I think my chai is kicking in- and time to get to my day. Get ready life here I come (on caffiene no less).
When the cosmos collide- sometimes you can find a clarity in all of the nonsensical ideas- astroids bouncing around. Hmm I would like to do a painting about this. But motivation to paint wears off in a bus ride these days. I get on the bus- I am going to go paint this. By the time I get home it's snack time on zargut and carrots, facebook, and Law and order. Where did my climbing apple trees, carefree arty ways go? Did I leave that behind with childhood. Haha, I think it is still there, but I do have to admit that tv these days have been sucking me in. Favorite shows: The office, V, Law and order, and brothers and sisters. I don't want to admit it but Desparate Housewives has been sucking me in- I deny it though.
I have started counseling again and I have to say- thank goodness. I was leaving there today and I realize, it is so nice to talk with someone to just say it all- and this counselor is awesome that she takes my words and puts it into relation, and context- and it makes me realize so many more things, options for my life than I ever had enter my brain.
Life is a bit up in the air right now, needing more work for money honey. But for some reason I am not panicing (yet). I am really trying to enjoy the rest of my internship and see where life/ spirit takes me. Grad school apps done. Finaid in. And I just ate an awesome breakfast at the Grove cafe on Fillmore. Eggs florentine "Dave's way"- ever go- you should try. So all in all things are right with the world.
It is a bit strange to not be doing work at the grove, but honestly gettting distracted by facebook and jersey shore quotes online, as I look around and see bizniz meetings, and conference calls of fancy working suited men and women. And here I am reading Jersey shore quotes. :/ There was a moment when I was like "what am I doing"... and then I read....
"Everybody at the Shore definitely knows The Situation. As far as I know, everybody loves The Situation, and if you don't love The Situation, I'm gonna make you love The Situation."
And I knew I needed to read on with my distration. Because so many times I close my self off from having fun- to say "get your shit done."
Well- I am today going to allow myself the 5 minutes to goof off....
Okay finished reading the jersey shore quotes.
Now I am ready.
And in the great words of Pauly from there....
"We’re beatin’-up-the-beat, that’s what we say when we’re doing our fist pump. First, we start off by banging the ground, we’re banging it as the beat builds ‘cause that beat’s hittin’ us so we’re fightin’ back, it’s like we beat up that beat."
Maybe this is how we gotta roll with life. Just beat up the beats......
O my gosh- I just compared these boys with life wisedom. I think my chai is kicking in- and time to get to my day. Get ready life here I come (on caffiene no less).
Friday, January 29, 2010
random notes
Good conversations today.
busy bee.
Submitted to NYU today- ah we shall see.
Such an unknown.
Reading:
The Beggar King and the Secret of happiness, by Joel Ben Izzy.
Current song that I am lovin:
-Wait till you see my smile
-Coldplay- Fix you
-Dixie Chicks- top of the world
Movie wanting to see:
tyler perry's: I can do bad all by myself
Dear John
Invictus
Excited for friends, family, and finding some time to paint.
Oh and a bath.
Would love to see in concert:
Beyonce
Mary J Blige
Lady Antibellum
Kings of Leon
Joshua Radin
If I could be better at one thing-
Math.
Something I think is funny:
The mom on the bus that kept saying "ohhh baby are you poopy, ahhh baby are you poopy, you poopy?" And the kid says "poppy".
Something I love:
When people are singing outloud to themselves and doing a little dance on the street as they are walking
something I think is awkward:
When you hear something drop a pickup line and the other recipient either doesn't get it, or doesn't know how to respond.
Example- Copy shop- "Do you have one of those rolls [of tape]? I'll put my roll in your thing." I don't think the woman got it.
So inappropriate, and awkward.
Something I admire- that this season's bachelor isn't playing by the rules. (I know I know)
I also admire- my conversation of story sharing yesterday at the library about empowerment, self esteem, etc...
I admire those who have hardships work through it and show up still.
I love multi colored flowers and farmers markets.
I love that my friend Cynthia told me-it's healthy to write a list of things you hate... here is a few of mine...
I hate:
1) folding paperbags
2)animal movies
3) The smell of old metal on your hands.
Okay more to come xo
busy bee.
Submitted to NYU today- ah we shall see.
Such an unknown.
Reading:
The Beggar King and the Secret of happiness, by Joel Ben Izzy.
Current song that I am lovin:
-Wait till you see my smile
-Coldplay- Fix you
-Dixie Chicks- top of the world
Movie wanting to see:
tyler perry's: I can do bad all by myself
Dear John
Invictus
Excited for friends, family, and finding some time to paint.
Oh and a bath.
Would love to see in concert:
Beyonce
Mary J Blige
Lady Antibellum
Kings of Leon
Joshua Radin
If I could be better at one thing-
Math.
Something I think is funny:
The mom on the bus that kept saying "ohhh baby are you poopy, ahhh baby are you poopy, you poopy?" And the kid says "poppy".
Something I love:
When people are singing outloud to themselves and doing a little dance on the street as they are walking
something I think is awkward:
When you hear something drop a pickup line and the other recipient either doesn't get it, or doesn't know how to respond.
Example- Copy shop- "Do you have one of those rolls [of tape]? I'll put my roll in your thing." I don't think the woman got it.
So inappropriate, and awkward.
Something I admire- that this season's bachelor isn't playing by the rules. (I know I know)
I also admire- my conversation of story sharing yesterday at the library about empowerment, self esteem, etc...
I admire those who have hardships work through it and show up still.
I love multi colored flowers and farmers markets.
I love that my friend Cynthia told me-it's healthy to write a list of things you hate... here is a few of mine...
I hate:
1) folding paperbags
2)animal movies
3) The smell of old metal on your hands.
Okay more to come xo
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Nine years.
Nine years. And I look out into the open and I see so much more to go. I am a bit scared today. I look back and see nine years of baldness and I look ahead and all I can see is more. Sometimes... a lot of the time- I really wish this disease would just go away. I feel that okay I have learned my lesson, self acceptance, confidence, self love, blablabala- got it. Now let me just have my hair back. I am tired of feeling like I need to over compensate for the things I lack. I am tired of being on all the time. I am tired of answering back. I am tired of being bald. I don't want this anymore- I don't want this anymore- I have learned enough.
That is what my mind is saying. Nine year aniversary with being bald and I feel exhausted.
That is what my mind is saying. Nine year aniversary with being bald and I feel exhausted.
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Today was a bit of a tough day for me. Yesterday was my nine year anniversary of when I first lost my hair. And I took a "self care" day yesterday to go on a drive, and spoil myself on a massage ;) During that time I was trying to allow myself to "get it out" emotionally of all that I was thinking. Well, trying to force myself to cry about it, really didn't work. I thought tomyself, maybe I have done enough crying about it. Maybe I am finally over it. Sure enough- I get to Glide. And start journaling as I am waiting for a meeting to start, and there it goes the waterworks. And all I could think of was "why today- I was suppose to do this yesterday- I gotta get to work. Why now? I scheduled this for yesterday. Bad timing." What ever happened to God's time, spirit time, emotion time. Letting it work out naturally. heather have you really settled upon set calendars even to feel. How about drop your blinds protecting you from honesty. Do not be affraid to say I am bald and this sucks.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Thursday, January 14, 2010
It's been one of those days... that you want to say... "life suck it."
Today. Ugh today- was a really hard day. I think I had one of the most terrifying experiences. I was watching a few children today and a miscommunication happened leading to a child being lost for a minute. And yes, just a minute, and yes everything is fine now but I had some of the worst fear in my life today. I realized how important communication is.
Lately my ego has been so slashed to the ground- my frustration level has been running high. So with a few things bearing down- it feels like a thousand- I keep wearing at myself- saying "stupid stupid stupid". And I am reminded of how many times I said this. I had to stop myself. I had to remember the good parts. I have to remember the hug I got from one of the kids I was watching. I have to remember that I am okay. I have to remember to not fear all of the good things that can happen. And not be affraid to just live in it.
My ego has been beat up lately- but maybe it's a good thing. Maybe humbling, maybe lets me go through a fire to see what is true on the other side of potentiality- authenticity. I am not going to over play my thinking. Today al I wanted to do was say: "Life suck it."
Off to painting. I have weird energy and it's time to focus on something different.... or better yet... I am needing to be in it. And hopefully tomorrow will be a better day.
Lately my ego has been so slashed to the ground- my frustration level has been running high. So with a few things bearing down- it feels like a thousand- I keep wearing at myself- saying "stupid stupid stupid". And I am reminded of how many times I said this. I had to stop myself. I had to remember the good parts. I have to remember the hug I got from one of the kids I was watching. I have to remember that I am okay. I have to remember to not fear all of the good things that can happen. And not be affraid to just live in it.
My ego has been beat up lately- but maybe it's a good thing. Maybe humbling, maybe lets me go through a fire to see what is true on the other side of potentiality- authenticity. I am not going to over play my thinking. Today al I wanted to do was say: "Life suck it."
Off to painting. I have weird energy and it's time to focus on something different.... or better yet... I am needing to be in it. And hopefully tomorrow will be a better day.
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