My Bags Are Packed and I'm Ready to Go

There must be a "How to Pack Efficiently and Pause Free" manual somewhere.  Aside from the physical breaks one must take from packing to move, there are the occasional stops along Memory Lane which can bring the momentum to a screeching stop and smell the roses halt.

Packing up the colored ceramic dishware my mom painted for me reminded me of the day I opened the UPS box she sent.  Not only did it have the dishware but it had colored place mats and colored tapers with square holders.  What a thoughtful gift!  She knew I like to make a pretty table at meal time and there she sent me another excuse for preparing good food.

I came across a card written in elegant penmanship from my much missed godmother, Aunt Dolly, who passed on this last December.  For as long as I can recall receiving mail, she had been sending me a birthday and Christmas card every year.  Something was missing in December.

Oh! and the photo of me holding a carrot with the utmost tips of my fingers for a horse to eat.  Gingerbread Man became my good friend and trusted teacher who welcomed me into the horse world.  What a bond we shared.

My poor backgammon board.  It has been tucked away, lonely, at one point a reminder of lamentable sportsmanship.  I always loved playing board games.  Naturally, I would play to win and I play by the rules and I insist on being the banker in Monopoly, but having fun was always the priority.  I prefer playing tennis with someone better than I so I can play hard and work for a win.  If I didn't win, which in all these years of game playing, there were many times, I laughed, congratulated the winner and either set up for a rematch or moved on to whatever I was doing next.  I saw no point in any resentment or anger or frustration with losing.  It was a game!

In the early months of our dating, I would hear the stories of the backgammon marathons at the hospital.  They played at such an expert level because their minds thought this way.  I enthusiastically initiated a game because it had been a while since I had played, but when my much beloved backgammon board was opened, I felt the foreboding of a helpless loss.  The problem was, I didn't lose.  In fact, the game never was finished because the spike in heart rate that my advantage brought about, also brought about a slamming shut of the board with pieces flying all over.  What a shock!

My game companion was only opened another time or two and the experience was so opposite of the fun I brought to the table that it seemed disrespectful to my board to unclip the buckles again.  So there it stayed, in a closet, move after move.

But this move is different.  My backgammon board will hide no more!  And I welcome anyone to a fine roll of the dice.

Pages In The Journey

Charley Miller and me, Swinging with the Stars 2012

People's Choice and Dameon Award winners

Free of injury, illness and obstacles.  Thank you Universe.  Thank you Ganesh.

Thank you to all who supported us during these past few months.  Thank you to all who were able to come to the show.  Thank you for the emails and messages last night and today.  Thank you Charley, my friend.

With entire sincerity, I can tell you how proud I am of this moment.  Charley is the most respectful, punctual, dedicated, and protective partner.  He made this win happen.  There is no feigning modesty here.

We were paired at a time when staying present was impossible for me.  My plate was spilling over.  Adding just one pea more had me on the brink.  And when that pea was counting on me to make room on my plate, I resented it.  Couldn't this morsel understand that the only space I had was beside my plate?

I went back and forth on my decision to participate in the competition this year.  At the time I said yes, it made sense.  A few things shifted and suddenly I found myself in a position I was not capable of handling to the best of my abilities.

And so life's journey goes.  It is said that when we are ready for the lesson, the teacher appears.

Once I settled the inner conflict and restated to myself my decision to be Charley's partner, I then had to develop my strategy.  How was I going to do this when my brain was overtaxed and my heart was closed for business?

All the while as the chatter of my inside voices got louder and louder, I would meet Charley twice a week to practice.  He was there, ready, willing, vulnerable and extremely devoted to the commitment he made to the charity and to his supporters.

In a rare moment, when the voices drowned each other out into a silence, I saw this. 

I sought refuge in my yoga room, under a soothing dim light, enveloped in rich Indian incense, grounded on my mat, calling on my Angels, Spirit Guides, Masters and Gurus for guidance, for clarity, for confidence.  I reached out to family and friends and divulged my fears.  I listened to Pema Chodron over and over grasping at the concept of Shenpa.

I embraced an empowering daily affirmation.  I repeated one of my favorite mantras, "I choose love." 

The fog began to lift.  My path illumined.  My trust in my journey reinforced.  Numbers started to appear. 

With each practice, Charley's steadiness demanded I reach deep down inside and pull out what I knew I had.  He deserved that.

Over the months that we met to develop a routine that was fitting to both of us, my plate was clearing.  It didn't get bigger.  It tilted.  The things that no longer served my highest good slipped right off into oblivion.  The more it tilted, the more space I had for that pea to jump on, roll around in comfort, unrestricted by what was. 

When we are allowed space, when we give ourselves and each other space, extraordinary things happen.

Without Charley and our time together, I very well might be sitting with a plate on the verge of cracking under the weight of impediments.  Charley won the Mirrorball trophy he so deserved and I won another stepping stone in this enthralling journey.