body

This photo of a peaceful pair of butterflies was taken by my husband, Bob Haine. The  background of a white flower gives a tranquil setting for the two, a respite from flight and a chance to refuel. Caterpillar days are over as they take their place in the sun.

CATERPILLAR DREAMS: BUTTERFLY REALITY

It has been awhile since I have posted anything. Not because I had nothing to say or no time to say it. I have been very busy, cleaning and downsizing our home of over thirty years for a big move.

Moving to our dream home near the beach in central California was not an easy move. But we have arrived, here and now.

I have not posted anything lately because, as the caterpillar might say, “When you’re in a chrysalis state you keep still, until you’re ready to emerge as the butterfly.”

I’ve spent the months after the new year preparing to grow wings. It has been my caterpillar stage.

Nobody delves much into what the caterpillar is thinking and feeling as it hangs in that fragile cocoon. We like pondering more on what the beautiful butterfly is feeling as it floats across the sky, manifesting those gorgeous wings.

However, the ugly caterpillar stage is the most critical part of the butterfly’s development. Without this nitty-gritty formation stage, the butterfly would not exist.

It takes time, a darkened time, to formulate the butterfly. Somehow, the caterpillar knows and accepts this.

It must be frightening, at some level, to leave the only world you know, to reconstruct the body you have had, to live on the precarious edge of a branch, yet have the quiet knowing that this is the proper sequence of things.

I admit that I did not have the natural intelligence of a caterpillar when I chose to pack up my former life, leave our longtime home and move to a totally different locale.

I did not realize that not only would the structure of my home change, but that I would not be the same creature after re-establishing myself somewhere else.

The metamorphosis from a caterpillar life to a butterfly life is not easy. During the preparatory times, there are lots of questions if one is a human caterpillar. Questions like:

When is my escrow going to close? I’ve sold my home; when am I going to find a new one? What do you mean when you say that I can’t get a loan on this property?

The list goes on and on…..

Finally, there is an ah-ha moment, a time of surrender. Like the caterpillar, it is not resignation as much as the sheer acceptance that there are bigger, more mysterious forces at work.

Go into the cocoon. Dream the beautiful dream. Let the feelings of discomfort, fear, even despair, pass through like a mist. The dew is settling on the bush, and one fine day the realtor will call and say, ” The perfect house for you just went on the market today.”

You know the minute you walk through the door that this is the home you’ve been  waiting for all your life. Much like the butterfly coming out into the light for the first time, you realize this house is not just a house. It is the repository of your feelings, the carrier of your dreams. In short, it is not just a house; it is your forever home.

My husband and I were fortunate enough to find such a home, our house of love and light. I have enjoyed the rebirth, making this place a structure with our unique imprint: the blue, white, and sand colors of the beach, the blend of my art and my husband’s photography, our shared music and instruments, my touches in the surrounding garden.

I have planted butterfly bushes and “save the bees” flowers. The hummingbirds, hawks,  and finches come for visits. On the ground, a line of quail stroll by in the morning.

The coyotes, spiders, and snails are welcome here, too. If you exclude the so-called negatives in the natural ecosystem, the system collapses. We all need a home in this interdependent world.

Has the transition from city life, to part-time mountain life, and now the rural bay life been smooth?

In a word: NO.

We human butterflies are beautiful and freed from many things. But the world outside our inner world is still throwing us curves. The wind currents and earthquakes are still slamming us:

Why do we need a cardiologist, a pulmonary expert, a nephrologist, an x-ray, a CAT scan? What do you mean we may not be covered by our insurance since we moved? What if, how can, must I…?

And the wise monarch butterfly that floats past me in the yard is whispering, “Let go. Just breathe.”

When I wake up and realize I am the spirit in my body more than the body is in my spirit, I will know my winged friend is right.

It may be hard to be a butterfly in a caterpillar world, but as more and more wings open to the light, this becomes a beautiful place to be.

I am so grateful to have my part in this world and to share  life in my new homeland with my wonderful friends and neighbors.

Before the rain yesterday, this is the vision Bob and I saw in the clouds. I see a woman blowing a horn if I look at the photo from far away. Others see a man looking right at the viewer. I wish we could show this as a vertical shot because the cloud  looked so spectacular hovering over the rooftops and trees.

LOVING MYSELF: I SING THE BODY PERFECTIC

I have recently been reflecting on the perfection of the body and how little love we tend to give it. It is our first and oldest friend. It is the final companion we will bid farewell. More than a garment that houses our spirit, it has a life of its own that depends on us to help shape it and protect it.

I am grateful that my body did not give up on me when there are so many times I have not been that kind to it. I am inordinately kind to others around me and sensitive to their needs. However, looking back, I have seldom given the love and respect to my own body that it so richly deserves.

Every body deserves love and respect. Every body is a gift from God, on loan to us for this lifetime. Having free will, we can choose to treat it however we want. Many religions tend to downplay the importance of the body for a variety of reasons. They talk about temptations of the flesh, but it is really the mind that makes the choices.

I choose to honor my body as much as I can, for as long as I can. That does not just mean giving it good food and taking it for a walk. A dog owner knows that this protocol will keep a dog in shape. If the dog is to thrive, then another ingredient must be added to the mix: LOVE. And in return, the dog is happy and glad to serve its master.

How many kind people would yell bad names at the dog for being “ugly”? Would they stop loving him if he got too fat? Would they quit loving him if he were in pain? Yet these same people (myself included) repeatedly think bad thoughts about their less-than-fabulous-Madison-Avenue bodies, and the aches and pains of aging.

It’s time to STOP… CHANGE THE COURSE OF OUR THOUGHTS.

Regardless of what has manifested in my body, I choose to love my faithful companion. The longest marriage of flesh and spirit in my life deserves my affectionate attention. The body communicates with me, sometimes in ways I don’t particularly like, and I have the option of a loving response.

When I was put on the kidney transplant list, I did not blame my body. I tried not to blame anything. I realized that prayer work, positive thinking, and some unusual measures could help what appeared to be a desperate situation. My mother suggested a solution. She said to sing to my kidneys and visualize them up to 25% function and loving to work with me.

It seemed like a weird idea, but both my mother and I are oddballs, so I started to make a simple, happy song for them. When I reached 25% function and up to 30% function, I was not surprised. My kidneys knew I loved them enough to sing for them and they returned the favor.

Yes, the body does have an intelligence. And more importantly, I believe the body (right down to the cells) responds to the healing power of love.

Now, I just need to get over prejudices that keep me from helping the rest of the body to heal. Since I am a singer/songwriter, my idea is to write songs, love songs, for other areas that would benefit from improvement. Actually, what would be even more effective and less time-consuming would be to write one epic song: “I Sing The Body Perfectic,” and sing that on a daily basis. I love Walt Whitman’s poem on the same idea, but adding music would make the feeling more energetic.

As for what constitutes perfection…I cannot say what that means for everyone. I only know what it means for me. I can choose to have love for my body-buddy regardless of what the doctors say or what others think. I am the only one who has to live in it and I will program my thoughts and feelings accordingly. I take direction from God, my insights and angels, and those that love me regardless of my body’s condition.

And I can choose what constitutes my perfection on a daily basis as long as my eyes and heart are focused on love.

As a postscript, I might add that I met the love of my life 38 years ago today. We are working on recording more songs for our fourth bobandkathi CD today, and then we plan to CELEBRATE.