Category Archives: Relationships

The Lump in the Road-or All about Lumpy, Bumpy, Whumphy Me

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Mama Nicole by Helen Redman 1993 http://birthingthecrone.com/pages/Nicole/Pages/14.html
I do not have breast cancer. I did find a lump in my right breast about six weeks ago. This is the story of my adventure with mammograms, ultrasounds, doctors, clinics and biopsies in a foreign country, which I navigated mostly by myself. Something which would never have been the case if I were at home. Strap on your seat-belts, here we go, this is a long ride…..

I had an appointment with my phenomenal local doctor, Sorcha Dunne, who works at the nearby clinic. The clinic is just a mile from my cabin. I needed to go over blood work related to my thyroid condition. I had her check out the lump I found under my right underarm. Because the lump was painful and mushy, she was reassuring and said: “I’d like to put you on a high dose of anti-inflammatory medication for a week and then check this lump out again, in ten days. If it’s still there, then we’ll go nuclear.” So, I got on Ibuprofen 400 mcg three times a day.

I then had a freak-out, crying in the car, praying and I think I went swimming at the pool I just recently joined. I was torn about telling my husband, because I didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily. This lasted for one day. I realized that if he had something like this, even if it turned out to not be serious, I would want to be told. This is a complex issue in most families. Who do you tell, when do you tell, how do you tell? It’s more complicated for me right now because I’m on a retreat NOT talking to all my people and family as I normally would. It’s also expensive to communicate with folks in the states from here and there’s the time difference as well.

So, I called my most magnificent husband. I cried and he agreed that it was right of me to call him. He then said he would do anything I needed and over the week I was on the Ibuprofen I talked to him at all hours of his day and mine. We strategized, he listened to me and supported me in all the ways I needed. We agreed that we would tell family after I had my follow-up visit, in case there was no more to the story, I didn’t feel like causing an uproar of fear in those I love.

I have escorted two dear friends across death’s door from breast cancer. I have two friends who are in remission/recovering from breast cancer, minus their breasts and after intense medical engagements. I have one friend still in a very long battle with lymphatic cancer. I have lost two other friends in the last year from cancer as well, not breast cancer though. In my community I am often the person you call when you are sick or dying because I was the Chair of our Hevra Kadisha (Sacred Society/Burial Society). You can read all about that here: Life and Death Matters

Death, medical challenges, and family complexity around all of this are all very familiar to me. I am often the person who is the medical advocate for my friends or others when they are navigating illness.  I know this landscape from the helper side, not from the patient side. Ummmm, they’re really different! It’s a whole other world when you are the one in the scary seat.

A moment to talk about being an ALPHA female. In almost every situation I will be the alpha, I will take charge if taking charge needs to happen. This is a huge asset for the folks I help. It’s not always an asset though and I have to work very hard to not be the loudest, biggest, most intense person in any room. I pretty much have to crank the volume down on who I am all the time. The volume knob on the Nicole Being is permanently worn on the turn down side. Most folks experience me as taking up a lot of space, physically, verbally, and spiritually. This is me with my volume turned DOWN really hard.

It’s actually exhausting to always have to crank myself down, down, down. Part of why I am here away from most human contact is because the trees and the river and the birds and the angels have NO problem with my volume and I feel so safe and free with them. If you could see my energetic being it would be the size of a small sea. I’m not kidding. And everyone wants a wild body of water in their living room taking up space, on the sofa, right?

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At the 200 year old Seaweed Baths in Enniscrone , Me as  Wild Mermaid
So, what happens for me when I have to divert my attention from keeping my volume turned down to be in HYPER-FUNCTION mode is that I get less good at being smaller, and I also forget things and make mistakes.

Well, I still had a lump on Monday, February 29th, Leap not for Joy!

So, then Sorcha referred me to the Mater Private Hospital in Dublin for a triple assessment; Mammograms, Ultasounds and Biopsies. This is “going nuclear,” which I thought was a metaphor, but actually it is called nuclear medicine. I’m not sure if she meant it metaphorically or not, but that’s how I heard it and that’s how I experienced it is as well.

Remember I’m in Ireland. I was told it would be two or three weeks before I could be seen for this consultation. Well, that didn’t work for me or my husband. I’d already been in a state of limbo and who knew how long that lump had been in my boob before I noticed it. One of my friends had such a fast growing breast cancer that a few weeks made a difference and because she was extremely on top of her situation, with two small children, she immediately had surgery and is alive and well today. Three weeks felt like an eternity to me. My husband asked me to talk with one of my sisters by love (name will not be given), who is also one of my doctors back in the states.

I’d been hesitant to do so because she’s a busy single-mom who just brought her mother home with metastasized pancreatic cancer and is taking care of her and her step father in her tiny home following her own painful divorce. But, Kevin insisted that she needed to be brought into the loop, so I called her and woke her up at 11 pm her time, 6 am my time. We talked for an hour and she said she wanted me to at least see if I could get an ultrasound sooner. She urged me to be pushy and she reassured me that based on my description it was probably not breast cancer, but let’s not wait to find that out.

So, as soon as the local clinic opened I called and said I couldn’t wait three weeks to get this consultation and asked if I could get part of it done sooner locally. Dublin is three hours and a whole world away from me here. Within an hour or so, Mary, the receptionist, called me back and said she had secured the appointment for me for the following day at 2:30 pm. PERFECT! I felt a little bit like an “ugly American” but Mary and Sorcha both reassured me. If I did have cancer, I’d have to be packing up and heading home for surgery, my situation was just not simple. Somehow between the angels, the extraordinary efforts of these magnificent local folks, some serious Mazel/Luck and the fact that I would be paying privately, I got into the special hospital in Dublin very quickly.

So, I threw some clothes into a bag, got all my paperwork together and asked one of the nuns to give me a ride to the train station in two hours. I got on the 1:00 pm train to Dublin. While on the platform waiting, I spoke with the Mater Private and asked for the nearest hotel. The receptionist said to try the Maldron Parnell Square and to mention I should get the special rate for their patients. I called them and asked to book a room for two nights. They only had one room available for that night, but I figured I might get lucky once I got there and anyway, I could always switch hotels if I had to.

So, on the train I went. I brought my knitting and my iPad with several novels on it. I spent time on my phone with my travel insurance AIG, and they were pretty wonderful. They assigned me a real person who called me every day and helped me get things figured out. I definitely was in hyper-function mode, which is what had to be done. No room for feelings.

I do need to share that when I first found the lump I did share that information with my Carmelite sisters and brothers here at my Hermitage. They were AMAZING. One of the nuns had a breast cancer scare which turned out to not be cancer. She came over and reassured me. The others also all put me in their prayers and were completely caring and present for me. Lots of hugs and kindness. So, even though I wasn’t with my normal crew of folks I was surrounded by their love. Additionally, my foot reflexologist neighbor, Rachel Dooney, and my chiropractor Sheila O’Brien were very available. Sheila, had also gone through this breast lump territory and procedures and not had breast cancer. So, all of these folks were there for me and praying for me and sending me love and support.

Once I got to Dublin, I took a taxi to the hotel. The staff was completely multicultural, Indian, Brazilian, Spanish, Moldovan, Basque to name just a few. I loved all the accents and languages and every person there was generous, kind and solicitous of me. They printed out my medical documents, release forms for me and even faxed them for me, free of cost. They just went out of their way to be helpful.

I got to speak Spanish and my tiny drop of Russian also, which was fun and distracting, two things that are helpful when you are freaking out about possibly having cancer. I ate at the hotel for dinner and went to see Big Maggie (a play I’d been hearing about on the radio and which has been sold out for months). I figured I’m in the country of the Bards and I am going to try to distract myself and have some fun. I booked my ticket while on the train into Dublin and got a pretty good seat about five rows from the stage a little to the left of center. The show was very intense and powerful and I am sooooooo glad I saw it. The theater, the Gaiety, is very old and beautiful with red velvet everywhere and sculpted ivory-colored angels and flowers all over the place as well as having a huge crystal chandelier. the acting was stunning and excellent and inspiring.

After the show I returned to the hotel and attempted to sleep. Guess how that went? So, reading, phone calls to my husband, solitaire and several episodes of 3rd Rock from the Sun were watched instead. I had two hot, hot baths as well. Perhaps I got three hours of sleep (which is my average on a bad night). Around five a.m. I got up and prayed the morning service. This takes me between two to three hours. I read, chant or sing the prayers in Hebrew, then in English. I cry through most of them, so that means it just takes me a while. My tears were not just unique to this intense and fraught time.

I cannot get through three or more words of any prayers without tears of joy, gratitude, and awe. Sometimes sadness too, but that’s not really what the tears are about, they still slow me down time-wise. Perhaps, they swim their way to heaven along the river of the water falling from my eyes. I have stopped judging this. This phenomenon has been constant for me since I came to Ireland. It was pretty frequent before I came on retreat, but there is no one to judge me, wonder if I am okay, or otherwise interrupt my process here, so I have gotten to deepen in all my spiritual practices, which is exactly why I am here!

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The very common, although totally not common but breathtaking, double rainbow outside my front door, keeping me grateful and in awe.
I am reminded of the story my Rabbi Naomi Steinberg tells about Reb Zusya. Reb Zusya is a simple poor fellow. There are many stories about him and I may not have this one exactly right. The one I am thinking about is a story where someone is commenting to the Rabbi about how Reb Zusya can never get more than two or three words into a prayer before he faints or, the less kind, assume he has fallen asleep. When asked about this Reb Zusya tries to explain that just saying “Baruch Ha-Shem” Blessed is the Name, makes him see the throne of Glory and it causes him to start contemplating the fountain of blessings flowing from the Divine. This throws him into a profound state of awe and trembling and he is overcome. Since almost all of the prayers start this way he can never get past those first few words, and in fact he faints trying to explain this. I think it is the Rabbi in the story who chastises and informs the others about the holiness of Reb Zusya and his devotion and engagement with Holiness.

I’m no Reb Zusya, but I do experience tremendous energy, angels and wonder. This happens for me whenever I pray in Hebrew or chant or am engaged in Holy prayer or meditation with others in any language or religion. If the heart is present, then I feel that in all my cells.

It was good to pray, in my hotel room in Dublin, it’s always good for me to pray. It just takes me a long time and I get wet.

So, after praying I went downstairs for breakfast and headed into town to get my underarms and legs sugar-waxed. I had asked the nurse about if I should shave and she said yes, so I treated myself to that. You may not think a sugar wax hair removal is a treat, but it doesn’t involve me taking a razor to my skin and lasts longer and reminds me of the Hammam Pacha (something I hope to write about soon). I had time for lunch and found a delicious Nepalese restaurant called Diwali. It was so quiet, with a large screen full of images of nature playing, soft raga music, quiet diners and large fish tanks full of beautiful fish; it was a sanctuary in the midst of busy loud, thronging Dublin. The food was EXCELLENT!

The woman Lindsay, who did my waxing, was great. Her business is called The Sugarist. She is from Seattle and we had a great set of conversations full of feminism, food, politics and lots of other great chatter. She was excellent. Alas, finally it was time to head to the hospital, so I hailed a taxi and dropped my big bog boots and large jacket off at the reception desk and got back in my taxi. Once at the Mater Private Hospital I was treated with tremendous kindness and graciousness. There were about seven other women,with their friends or spouses in the breast treatment area. I was the only person by herself, but I know lots of folks were praying for me and thinking about me.

I didn’t have to wait too long before I was called in for the first set of Mammograms. I’m not going to describe those. If you’re a woman over 40 you should know what I’m talking about. If you’re not a woman, this is one of the things you can be very grateful you do not have to go through. So, they took lots and lots of shots of my right breast and several of my left. The technicians were funny, kind and gentle–even if the machines are the exact opposite of that.

Then I went back out into the small waiting area and after another not too long wait I was ushered into the ultrasound room. The doctor Michelle McNicholas was a redhead and I love redheads! She and I also share a name, since Nicole is in her last name. She gooped up my breasts and started looking around. She didn’t seem too concerned and said so, she found a second large lump on my left breast which I was unaware of. This is when you start to really get afraid, if you’re me, even if the doctor is saying reassuring things. She said she wanted another set of mammograms for the left side, since we hadn’t done as many on that side and she wanted to see a certain view. So, back to the Mammogram Monster Machines I went. More mushing and smashing and then back into the ultrasound room. Michelle was very reassuring and said she really didn’t think I had anything to worry about. The tissue looked like and was behaving like “fat necrotic” tissue.

She and I agreed that we still should do a biopsy. I was there, I was lumpy, I wanted to be certain that I didn’t have breast cancer. So, I was then numbed up on my left breast and she did two fine-needle biopsies. I didn’t feel these, at the time, but they have scary noisy loud clicks which the doctor warned me about. Then I got dressed and went back to the waiting area. There was one more doctor to see.

I really loved the process of this place. It was multi-pronged with procedures and tests but also with a follow-up conversation and final exam with a second doctor. I just felt completely covered, seen and cared for and all of it was going on in one small area of a larger hospital. So, the nurse for Professor Gory (the name of my last doctor, really!), came searching for me. She tried to pronounce my last name, and I told her, never mind, just say Frank and don’t bother with the Barchilon. She said Dr. Gorey, when looking at my chart, commented that I must be French. So, as I walked into his room, I greeted him in French.

The whole exam went on in French, much to my delight, and his. There was a little English for his nurse too. It was somehow so comforting and friendly to be laughing and chatting in French. His French was excellent. So, he did a final exam on my breasts with his hands and then sat me down and said. “I’m almost certain you have absolutely nothing to worry about.” We will get back to you on Monday with the Biopsy results, but my advice is that you have a mammogram in two years and that you ONLY examine your breasts once a month. I know you’ll probably want to do it more frequently, but don’t make yourself crazy.” We shook hands and I went to pay the bill, feeling fairly relieved in general.

So, for all of this care, which I cannot even imagine the cost of in the U.S. I paid 1,100 Euros total for Mammograms, Ultrasound, Biopsies, Doctors, technicians, local anesthetic, etc….I think the cost for all of that would be ten times or more for the procedures and consultations. I wasn’t happy to shell out that money, but it will hopefully be reimbursed to me by my travel insurance. I’m sure that reimbursement and paperwork process will be much longer than the medical one!

I walked back to my hotel, which was about ten blocks from the hospital. I took 1000 mg of Paracetamol (like Tylenol) and went for a nap in my room, or an attempt at a nap. I spoke with my brother and his partner and also with my husband and then went out for a really fancy dinner at a place recommended to me by the front desk staff. It was called Chameleon. I asked the Brazilian at the front desk where I could find good spicy food within walking distance. This place was an Indonesian fusion type place that they had heard was very good. I checked it out on my iPhone and walked to it, it was about a twenty-minute walk. I had a phenomenal meal there and will definitely eat there when I’m in Dublin again.

Now it’s all about the waiting for the test results and the anxiety around that. I’ll keep this part fairly brief, although my wait for the results was not brief. On the Monday, five days after my biopsies, I got a call saying they wouldn’t have my results until Wednesday. I was reassured this did not mean anything bad, but there was no way for me to not feel anxious. More crying, phone calls with my husband, strategizing about leaving my retreat early if I needed to and walks and prayers. On the said Wednesday, I got a call saying they needed to do a second stain and that the results of that wouldn’t be in until the following Monday.

I sort of blanked out, at this point, on the phone with the nurse, panic on my part. My husband stayed calm when I told him and said perhaps they’d made a mistake or ??? I asked the insurance medical helper person to tell me what getting a second stain meant and they gave me a very cogent response that was reassuring and said that double-checking by doing a second stain of my tissues was a very good protocol. I still felt totally freaked-out, but was trying to stay positive.

Come Monday, a full twelve hellish days, after the biopsies, I called the hospital first thing in the morning. I was told they couldn’t tell me the results and that the report was forwarded always to my general/referring doctor. This was different from previously, since Louise, the nurse at Mater Private, had called me with information all the other times. Fear set in. I called my doctor’s office and Mary said they didn’t have anything yet. A few hours later I got a call from Louise telling me that there was NO CANCER! She said they’d just gone over the results and had a meeting, their protocol, and she called me as soon as it was finished. I must have gotten someone on the phone the first time who was either new or not aware of the situation. You can imagine my joy and relief.

So, that’s the end of this saga! My youngest son is here visiting right now. We’re enjoying the most beautiful sunny weather, walks, my cooking, and we’ll head to Dublin for a show and dinner at Chameleon before he flies home. I’m a very lucky and grateful woman!!!!

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Ethan laying in the non-cancerous lumpy, soft, mushy grassy knolls on the walk to one of the Holy Wells near my cabin. Sun, Son and Supreme Joy and Beauty!

Spiritual Feminism and Family

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Three generations of women taking care of each other and their families. I’m the baby in this photo on my grandmother Isabelle Redman’s lap, next to my mother Helen Redman.

Recently my mother Helen Redman and daughter were interviewed in the Washington Post. My comment to that article was too long for their comment section, so I’m posting what I want to say here and I encourage you to read the article: Unfinished Business; A feminist calls out her feminist grandmother. It’s part of their New Wave Feminism section. The piece was written by Dave Sheinin. You can read my comments first, but really they refer to the article a fair amount. Or if you read my thoughts first it will give you a unique perspective on the piece that was in the Post. It has great pictures as well! You have to click on Dave Sheinin’s name to get to the article he wrote. Or you can read all of them.
http://wapo.st/newwavefeminism

My Full Response:

Weighing in from my nine-month Sabbatical retreat in Ireland. I am the daughter of a feminist and the mother of a feminist. I’m the generation between, in the middle, a FEMINIST always, and proud to call myself one. My mother’s dedication to feminism, to her own artistic calling and to goodness made it possible for me to be who I am. I honor and am grateful to her, and all her sisters, in the work of making the world a better place for all. She and all the women and men who came before her are forever in my prayers of gratitude.

My perspective is different than both my mother’s and my daughter’s as stated in the Washington Post article. Since my personal take wasn’t mentioned in the piece and I rarely hear it talked about in the mainstream, I’m entering this discussion. I do so from my place of solitude and stillness which, I have taken as a Sabbath from my life of caring for my family and community. This is my Jubillee (50th year) and it is an extra special year of rest. I have been planning it for over twenty years. I am alone, completely, for the first time in my life in a small cabin in a remote area of Ireland. I am here as a woman in need of a “room of her own.” You can read all about that under the Jubilee category here.

My relationship to all things is based on and in my spiritual practice. I would even go so far as to call myself a Spiritual Feminist. I’m a writer and a Jewish Lay Leader, not yet a rabbi. My choice to parent, instead of having abortions when I was young (19 and 21) and single, resulted in my two oldest children, my daughter (31) and my son (29). Neither of the men in this story were present for me or my children. I chose being present for my children, welfare as a single mother, and living in the woods with some crazy people (for work-exchange) so that I could be with my kids. The other choice would have been me working some menial job and putting my babies in day-care and still not being able to get by. A large percentage of the women I know have had abortions at one time in their lives and my choice not to have them was within the context of a world where I had that choice.

I made my Feminist decision to be with my kids, even though it meant not finishing college in a timely manner, not having a career and living in very challenging circumstances. My choice to not have abortions, when that was suggested and seemed feminist, was a radical departure from what most other young women in 1983 would have chosen. I have supported and will always support a woman’s right to choose about this issue.

Nicole & Ethan, 1997 At Boulder Creek
Mama Nicole and baby Ethan 1997

I was in relationship with my body, the earth, the Holy One, and my children from the moment their souls entered my body. I have three children by birth and many others by love, who I have either raised or helped raise, and who consider me one of their mothers. I chose mothering, and being physically present for my children and children in need. I made sacrifices or choices or willing offerings that meant my “career” never happened. If I now go to school to become a rabbi, I will be 60 by the time I’m done. No one will most likely be interested in hiring me. I have been happily married for 26 years to a phenomenal man, who adopted my first two children and with whom I have a third child, Ethan. All of my children have a father who loves, supports and honors them in all their diversity of choices. He also does this for me. He is the more significant wage earner in our family, because his skills are valued by our culture and society financially over mine by several degrees of magnitude. He is a database designer.

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My Man and I, May 2015

My skills are extensive, but because I finished college at the age of 32 (attending here and there when my children were in school and I was able to), I was way behind in the career zone. Then, I was pregnant with my third child, Ethan (19). Consequently, I still do not have more than a BA. I have worked since I was fourteen years old as either a child-care provider, waitress, bus-person, cook, legal assistant, office administrator, therapeutic behavioral aide and many other small jobs, that have never paid more than a little over minimum wage.

My jobs have always been part-time so I could be available for my children, so I could cook dinner and we could sit around the table together as a family and talk and pray and share. I have poured myself into the lives of my children as they grew and created an environment for them that has allowed each of them to become the beautiful beings they are. I’ve made huge mistakes and choices that were not good for my children, but I’ve also always loved them and been present for them, I’m human.

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Issac and Ethan at Ethan’s graduation from Northcoast Preparatory Academy in May of 2015

I have a large circle of friends and many folks who consider my opinion to be of tremendous value, but no one is paying me for my wisdom yet in this world, other than my husband, who considers my input and efforts for our family to be of tremendous value. I also am in relationship with the Divine, who I trust for my sustenance in all things and down to the core. If I don’t earn much money this lifetime, I hope that my Chesed/Loving Kindness and my Avodah/Service will do me just fine in Olam Ha-Ba (the World to Come)

Feminism, for me, is about relationships, it is personal, political, and spiritual.

When I pray I use Hebrew, which is a gendered language. In Hebrew the Divine is referenced in the feminine when She is the Shechinah (In Dwelling Presence of Holiness), in the masculine when He is the Melech (King). But you won’t find that nuance, which isn’t even a nuance in the Hebrew, when you read the bible in English. So, in my prayers I call out to the vast energy of Holiness and there are an infinite variety of forms and qualities to Holiness.

The Divine is Ineffable. Gender is just a context we use that is familiar when trying to relate to our universe. We are all souls in bodies, on a very fluid spectrum in terms of our relationships to our genders and to our planet. Some folks feeling they are ONLY Male or Masculine, others ONLY Female or Feminine.

I truly believe most folks are in a much more flexible place on that particular scale, we are all Transitional Beings as far as I’m concerned. We are all moving through this world in one form now, but that is only one of our forms. We are not singularities or individuals as much as we think we are. We are all ONE. All of this is part of my Feminism and my Judaism. Without the Feminist movement the discussions about gender, and Holiness and choices being fuller than either or, or one size fits all, wouldn’t exist. The problem is that we are still NOT in relationships of value and meaning with the Earth, with our souls, with our beautiful and different bodies, and with each other in loving and kind ways.

My Feminism is about embracing a world where things are radically different than they are now. It’s a world where we are engaged with loving our bodies, our choices, our differences, our minds, our hearts and this amazing gift of a planet we are spinning on. It’s about having conversations with trees, birds, flowers and with those walking around in human form. It’s about not making more reasons to separate ourselves one from the other, but looking for where we are RELATED and similar and how we can build those connections so that we NEVER maim, harm, rape, kill or violate each other. That world isn’t here yet, but I am praying every day for it. I call out to the Shechinah and to HaMelech all the time in hopes that this dreamed and hoped-for world, Olam Ha-Ba will arrive in my lifetime, or if not mine, perhaps my children’s.

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The window-seat in my hermitage, where I pray for the world where we are all honored and treasured and loved.

Wild, Wondering, Wandering, Wacky, Witchy Me!

Singing to the Ocean, the Cliffs and the Wind in County Donegal, Ireland
Singing to the North Atlantic Ocean, the Cliffs and the Wind in County Donegal, Ireland. Photo courtesy of Steve Smith

Not doing, not buying, not writing, not eating, not consuming, not pushing for things to happen, not having seconds, not watching a movie, not getting up, not being quiet, not praying, not being still, not, not, naught.

I’m struggling with the nots or the knots of what my “time off” is supposed to be or look like. In the beginning I found myself responding to questions about what I am doing here with hyperbolic statements about all the books I plan to write and all the study of Torah I need to do or am doing, and the hours of prayer I am engaging in.

The reality of this time right now is actually very complex and nothing like what I anticipated. My new friend Paddy Rolleston (a local potter who comes monthly to help folks learn to work with clay) very wisely said to me, when I shared my current difficulties and self-doubts:

“What we anticipate is never what ends up happening.”

This is proving to be true. While much of my time is unfolding as I’d imagined it to or anticipated, most of it is not. The layers and strands of who I am and what is happening here is very much like the unwinding of a large spool of yarn, except I’m not some neatly woven non-sticky polyester blend on a spool. I’m this massively complex and wooly skein that has gotten all twisted and worn over the 51 years of my moving about on this planet. I am here trying to unravel myself and find the center again.

It is NOT easy. It is easy to fall back into patterns and just give up on the untying of any particular knot in this massive mess of me. So, the old, comfortable ways of being and doing is something I fall into. Then I have to unwind or climb back out  again.

I do not want to behave as I have. This is not because there is anything intrinsically wrong with who I am or how I am or have been. It is because I am trying to experience something luminous, liminal and clean.

Perhaps that is hubris and ridiculous. But, there are so many hours and moments of just that kind of time here, that I know I can actually, if I unravel some more of me, get to walk in the Divine Mist and Mystery and let the Holy One help me re-make myself.

Perhaps it is just a refinement that will be asked of me, but perhaps it is a complete transformation. The problem with going into this territory is that it is not something I can control or know. It is, by its very nature, like going into a deep pool or a misty valley that I have never had the time to just be in. It is a maze and I have a hunger, in the core of my being, that is like a fierce magnet pulling from my heart begging me to keep going.

But, it’s easier to drive into town once a week and buy the groceries I want, than it is to continue moving through the maze or unraveling this ball of yarn. I find myself not sleeping, this is not new territory. So, I move between getting up and doing some kind of project, craft or cleaning, or I play solitaire for an hour on my iPad or I read or I watch a movie on my computer. In the middle of the night I also go out for walks in the rain and wind. I sing to the stars and give thanks to the Divine for the glory of night. I write in my journal or on my blog. I eat.

I do not meditate or get still as much as I think I should, another not/ knot. Here, the biggest knot is the self-judgement. This knot is fueled by all the little comments of friends and family, like a hyper sensitive piece of microfiber cloth every tiny thing clings to me, all the little completely not harmful or intended to be harmful things that people have said or say enters me like a piercing needle.

I’m sensitive again, way beyond what I anticipated. What is scary about this is that I actually expected to be completely raw and vulnerable and cried rivers about my fear around this before leaving for retreat. I’m already way tooooooooo sensitive.

When I say I’m an Empath, it doesn’t really make sense to people, I see the fear and confusion on their faces. “That’s just Nicole beings whimsical and romantic and exaggerating again.” Some folks understand, but feeling all that I feel has always been overwhelming and something both fearful and extraordinary for me.

From a very early age I realized that how I was experiencing the world was not how others were and this made me so lonely, but also afraid. I read a lot. I always have. I resembled, as a child, and now as a woman, I still do, all the stories of the fey and the witches. I could feel and see and do things that others didn’t seem to be feeling. Besides all the literature about witch trials and all the women put away in mental institutions for the crime of being  wild and female, I am Jewish to boot. The fear of revealing who I am has been with me my entire life. Will I be put away, labeled as crazy, disregarded because I am so clearly other or seen as delusional?

Once I became a mother, these fears grew. I knew that I had to really tamp down, and hard on who I was. I needed to endeavor to look somewhat normal. It was okay to be a loud, vivacious woman. It wasn’t okay to talk about my dreams or how I feel the pain in people. It is and was okay for me to feed folks and cook for them and make soup, but it wasn’t okay to say I was weaving a spell of love and healing into every cut of my knife or stirring of my spoon. It was okay to be an environmentalist, but it wasn’t okay to lie naked on the ground and talk to the earth and cry with her and feel her heart-beat.

I talk to the stars and the blades of grass. I sing with the birds and I talk to the cows in the field. I not only hug trees but I commune with them. I feel the pain in those around me like a constant throbbing that I am dancing with at all times and searching, searching constantly for ways to ease.

No wonder I can’t sleep. So, all of this is going on and more, much, much more. In Rabbi Gershon Winkler’s book The Magic of the Ordinary, he talks about Jewish Shamanism. I am not sure I am comfortable with that term for myself. I’m searching for the right word to describe who I am, when that is, of course, an impossibility.

“Jewish Shamanism involves engaging various spirit beings, either through meditative trances or through the invocation of any variety of Sacred Names that serve to call into being specific changes in the external environment. Jewish shamanism is also about a way of thinking, a way of being in the world, a way of consciousness that perceives magic in the ordinary, miracle in the ‘natural course of events.’ Where most people will be awestruck at the sight of a passing comet, the Jewish shaman will be awestruck at the sight of a fallen leaf.” Rabbi Gershon Winkler , Magic of the Ordinary, Recovering the Shamanic in Judaism

I read this piece the other day and cried and laughed. The falling leaves have been making me cry and revel and move me beyond belief. So, when Gershon says a “Jewish Shaman will be awestruck at the sight of a fallen leaf.” I crack up, because this is EXACTLY the territory I am in right now. I don’t need to pray for five hours, every second here is a kind of prayer. As I clean my space, I am cleaning the detritus of my internal space. My body is my home, my home is my body, my body is my home, my home is my body and if you are in my home, your are in my body. This is just how it is for me.

I sometimes call myself a Wild Woman or a Jewish Witch. I’m not afraid anymore of being burned at the stake, although my memory, my soul memory, recalls those flames.  Wild Woman comes closest because it expresses my relationship to nature, my engagement with it and there is the quality of the untamed and uncontrollable or manageable to the word and world of Wildness. So, Hiney Ni/Here I am, in this rural and somewhat tame, while at the at the same time, Wildish Magic Island of Ireland.

You only have to leave a plot of earth alone for a few weeks or months for it to start to return to its wild nature. If we don’t cut the grass or plow the field or fix the cracks in the concrete or maintain the road, nature will invariably re-claim her space. Grass will grow and bugs will come and the movement of wind, water, creatures and growth will shape the landscape according to the whim or desire of the Creator. We have to constantly hew out our place here, when we are trying to control our environment.

I have no desire to control the earth. I much prefer to walk on wobbly earth, to navigate the brambles and weeds, to garden gently with the earth. And yet, I like going to the store and buying the avocados that were grown in Mexico. Did I mention,  I’m in Ireland, so to get that avocado to my cabin here, if I trace the path back, I’ve used up thousands of hours of resources, time, energy, fuel, and participated in a cycle of destruction of our planet, just because that avocado appealed to me and I wanted to make beans and rice and guacamole. That’s another one of my messy knots. I can buy the local beans and Irish rice, but I want my avocado flavor. Simple and I, moderation and I, doing less and I, just are NOT related.

Nevertheless  I am continuing to unravel and unwind here. The leaves on this tree, being whipped by the winds and the rains and the cold frost, are whittling away who I am. As the new moon of Kislev appears in my window, I call out to her cold sliver. I am moving inward, hibernating and lessening the activities, curling inward and slowing, slowing.

And, this is my Shabbat year, my Jubilee Year, my Shabbat of Shabbats and if I just roll around on the floor or want to read 300 books and ignore whatever agenda I think I need to adhere to, or someone else thinks I do, then that is what this Wild, Wacky, Witchy Woman will do or NOT do!

At a Holy Well, meditating in Awe of the wind, the water, the wide, wide Atlantic Ocean I am facing. Photo by Eddie Vega
At a Holy Well, meditating in Awe of the wind, the water, and the wide, wide fierce and cold magnificent North Atlantic Ocean that is my home water now. Photo courtesy of  Eddie Vega

 

Wildly Wandering and Engaging with Elderberry Magic

Ingredients for Elderberry Syrup Making
Ingredients for Elderberry Syrup Making: fresh ginger, fresh lemon juice, cinnamon sticks, cloves, fresh elderberries or dried if you can’t get fresh, rose-hips (not pictured here), local organic honey, prayers

Hineyni/Here I am in the land of Ireland and I’m walking a few miles down the small lane near my Hermitage, on one of the gloriously sunny days that we had recently. I am singing to the trees and the birds and also saying hello to the unseen Faerie Folk in the dark mossy, wet green forest. I am chanting praises in Hebrew and my heart and my eyes are open. I notice these small purple almost black berries on red stems growing on the side of the road. I reach up high to pick one bunch, and when I get home to my cabin I compare what I’ve picked and verify with my herb books to make sure that I am indeed in possession of elderberries.

My joy is great because, yes, I was. I am always careful when I wild-craft (collect things in the wild for consumption). The first time I encounter something in a new place, I will wait to do something with it until I have confirmed, either with my research or with the locals, that it is indeed what I think it is. I always want to check that it is growing somewhere that wasn’t a former dump-site for toxic chemicals. I normally wouldn’t use berries or herbs from a road-side, but this particular road is mostly traveled by sheep, humans and an occasional slow tractor or cars. It’s a small rural road and the elderberries actually are pretty high up, about six feet from the ground.

Onward to the wonders of making this magic elixir. It’s quite easy. It just takes a while from start to finish and your presence with the process. It doesn’t make sense to make a small amount of this stuff. First of all, it’s so delicious that you will want to drink it like juice, secondly, it takes hours to collect enough berries to make a goodly amount, thirdly it costs a lot of money in the stores for what you can make at home. Now, if you factor in the time harvesting, the wild-crafted honey I purchased, the fresh lemons, cinnamon sticks, cloves and organic ginger, and I was actually charging for my efforts, the cost of what I brewed up would be similar to what you would pay in the stores. Luckily, for the folks, here at this hermitage, they get it for free.

Here’s the thing about elderberries, they are magic, true earth magic. They are full of vitamin C, they most likely will keep you from getting a cold or the flu, if you regularly consume them. If you are already ill, they often will lessen the time you are down. They are super immune boosting. Did I mention that this stuff tastes so good you do not have to fight with your children or your friends to get them to take it?

The beauty of the berry!
The beauty of the berry

“In sandy earth or deep, in valley soil, I grow, a wildflower, thriving on Your love.”~The Song of Songs, Love Lyrics from the Bible by Marcia Falk

I always make offerings when I am collecting.

These berries were a pure gift from the earth. I sang to the trees and thanked them as I picked them from the branches. In general, when I am wild-harvesting or even if I am just sitting in prayer or meditation or I see a glorious flower or bird or have a moment of joy in nature, I make an offering. If I have food with me, I take off a small portion of it and leave it on the ground near where I am or where I experienced my delight. If I don’t have food but I have my glass water bottle with me, that I take everywhere with me and refill constantly, so I never have to buy bottled water, I pour a little of my water on the earth. If I don’t have anything physical to offer, I just touch the tree or ground or water or plant and sing or say “thank you,” usually my tears are flowing with gratitude, so I can offer those as well. I NEVER take all of the berries or the flowers when I am picking for any reason. I always leave a lot for the birds, the bees, and for the plant to re-seed itself. And, yes, right before Halloween/Samhain, let me just come out as the very Jewish-Witchy-Wild-Woman-of-the-Tribe Ha-Kohanim that I am. (I will be posting all about this in a few days, so stay tuned).

If you are a praying person and you actually engage with Holiness, however you define that, you can be in relationship with the Earth and the Divine. By being in relationship you can help transform and do Tikkun Olam for yourself and the planet around all that is out of balance and in need of care.

Luckily and by the Grace of the Earth and The Creator of the Universe, The MAGIC and Glorious Holiness of this amazing planet we live on is constantly offering itself to us and healing itself. Its berries, its acorns, its boundless gifts overflow to and through us over and over again. Our earth also manages to transform toxins in ways modern science is only beginning to understand. And, as we dance with the earth, and we love and give thanks and engage with and BE in relationship with, not over the earth, we heal ourselves and our glorious planet as well.

Okay, back to the recipe, I will actually tell you how to make this stuff, I promise, if you haven’t already looked up somebody else’s recipe by now! Here’s the difference between my recipe and someone else’s. If you actually sing to the berries and you pray and practice for the folks you love and you give thanks while you are picking the berries and you are chopping the ginger and you are stirring the syrup, your elderberry syrup will be more potent and everyone and the planet will benefit more from your enlivened engagement with the process!

Making Elderberry Syrup with fresh elderberries, or with dried ones too, if you cannot find fresh, (The Actual Recipe)!

Remove the berries from the stems into a ceramic or stainless steel bowl. This is best done with a helper, if you have a large amount. It took me and another hermitage member at least an hour to remove all the berries from what I had harvested. I did collect a huge amount, so you might not need that long depending on what you have, but again, MORE IS BETTER. Don’t worry too much if small bits of stem get in your bowl, you will be straining the finished product.

Fill a large soup pan, stainless steel or enamel 2/3 way with water, add your fresh peeled ginger root, more is better, sliced into smallish slices, 3-6 cinnamon sticks, a handful of cloves, and 2 or more handfuls of dried rose-hips. You can see in the picture above, how much cloves and cinnamon sticks are needed. I break up the cinnamon sticks sometimes before putting them in. I did not use all the ginger in the picture, but I used two whole big roots, which I peeled and sliced into rounds or small pieces. Add all of this together into the pot with the water and bring to a boil, then turn the heat down, cover and let it simmer for at least an hour. You do not want this to be boiling away, the liquid is the syrup.

The Rule of Three:

I use three of most ingredients or multiples of three as a constant in all decisions around amounts when I’m cooking, shopping and especially when I’m making medicine. There is a magic reason for this to be expanded upon at a later date

For the elderberries, if I’m using dried ones, I put six to nine to twelve to eighteen handfuls directly into the hot water with all the other spices. It’s best to let it sit after simmering for another hour or two off the burner, before you strain it. Strain the hot liquid into another pot using a fine-mesh stainless steel strainer (NEVER USE PLASTIC ANYTHING NEAR MEDICINE)! I also put a fine cotton bag around the strainer so that once all the ingredients have cooled down I can mash out the juice from the cooked materials.

If you don’t have a cotton bag, you can use a wooden spoon press down on the pulp in the strainer to get every drop of liquid you possibly can out of the pulp. If you let it sit longer and it isn’t hot, you can also put it in cheese cloth and squeeze and press all the liquid out that way, but you cannot do this when it is hot. Save the pulp for use in your garden or give it back to the earth, please do not throw it in the garbage, it is like discarding something precious. Give what you don’t use back to your compost heap, or if you don’t have a compost, just put the pulp in a jar or container and the next time you are near a river or stream or in nature, return the berries to the earth directly.

Put the strained syrup in the pot back on the burner on a very low heat and add the honey slowly stirring it. Stir in a clockwise direction with a wooden spoon. Again, this is a good time to think about healing folks or how grateful you are. I say prayers for healing throughout the process of my making this syrup and when I’m squeezing the juice out of the bag or through a cheese cloth, I think about squeezing out germs and illness. I swirl in the bee’s magic and the wonder of the flowers that turned into these berries and made this heavenly purple almost black syrup. I give thanks for the rain and the wind and the water. I use a full quart of honey for most batches. Use the amount that works for you based on how many berries you had. Taste the syrup and see if you need more. Add the juice of the fresh lemons. I recommend lots of lemon juice (3-6 lemons) depending on how much you are making. You also need to strain this juice so the pulp doesn’t get into the syrup. It’s important not to get the syrup too hot after you add the honey and lemon. You just want it hot enough to blend the honey and lemon in.

A note on honey. Most honey nowadays is problematic. It can say wild or organic or local and not really be any of those things. Large bee manufacturers feed their bees sucrose syrup instead of the bees actually interacting with flowers. When you are making medicine, you do not want that kind of honey. Actually, you never want this kind of honey. Get honey that you know is raw, local or that you trust. It will be expensive, unless you can trade with your beekeeper for some of your finished elderberry syrup! A good plan!

Once you have achieved the proper balance of honey and lemon juice and it tastes right to you, you can bottle the stuff. It’s important not to put hot liquid into your refrigerator. So, let it cool down completely before putting it in a cold environment. Only bottle in glass and use a stainless steel or wooden ladle to move the syrup from your pot to the funnel or bottle. If the liquid is cooled down, basically cold, it is okay to use a plastic funnel, but better to buy and have a stainless steel one in your kitchen. The syrup will keep for a long time, and you’ll go through it before it ever is too old.

Elderberry syrup and roses
My daily dose, along with the some rose petals and lavender I’ve been harvesting. Stay tuned for rose bead recipe coming up in the future and for the whirlwind of wonderful wild-crafting and doings in the Nicole Zone!

One tablespoon a day of this syrup is a preventative, immune supportive kind of medicine. If you start to feel sick, or your beloveds do, increase the amount to two tablespoons and take it every three-hours or so. Do this for two days and you might be able to ward off the cold or flu. If you can’t catch the cold before it takes hold, take the syrup three or more times a day while you are sick and it should reduce the time you are unwell. If you are taking prescription medicines, it’s always a good idea to check with your provider about negative interactions. Most folks do not give children under the age of one anything with honey in it, so check with your doctor about that as well. You can buy elderberry syrup for pancakes, so I really am just warning you to be super safe and careful whenever you take anything medicinally. For, me the warning is not about being fearful of the natural world, it’s about being aware that I do not know everything and that some medicines and some fruits are not good companions.

Was this the longest recipe you ever read?

Well, good medicine and good magic take time.

To the Wild Woods with You, in Wonder and Wandering!

Cedar Tree Magic
Cedar Tree Magic awaits you once you go in the grove.

Healing Trauma, Abuse, and Abandonment: Over Time and With Help

Nicole and Roxy, September 2013 Nicole and Roxy, September 2013

The following sharing was written by my God-daughter Roxy Greenspan. She sent me two of her college papers a few months ago and I asked her permission to use them on my website. She agreed. I am extremely proud of Roxy for being a truly extraordinary woman, for rising out of the ashes and trauma of her childhood and becoming the kind, intelligent and phenomenal woman she is today. You will see all of this in her writing and sharing here.

I am including Roxy’s work on my blog for several reasons, first of all because she is a clear voice for healing and hope even after tremendous difficulty and childhood distress, and secondly because Roxy is also describing her process and her growth through trauma into wellness. No matter what hardships we encounter, her example and her ideas and her victories can help all of us move forward and into hope, healing and wholeness.

Developmental Theory Paper for Pacific Oaks College:

By Roxy Greenspan © 2015

As an adult, and after some personal work and reflection, I am able to better understand my current patterns of communication, coping mechanisms, and the way I operate in the world as a result of the cumulative experiences that have made up my life. I have always struggled with how I identify in the world and with whom. Born into a family of alcoholism, mental illness, and homelessness, my support systems were often lacking, and when present, inconsistent and insecure. My mother’s inabilities to care for me as a child and her wish for me to have experiences in life that she could not give me, such as emotional love and support, resulted in me living in the homes of various people throughout my childhood.

My mother’s history of relationships with homeless, abusive addicts led her to being a single mother of four children, one with severe disabilities.  Her own mental illness and debilitating depression resulted in her often being unable to care for her children. My lifestyle was my norm and I didn’t know any other, it was just my life—utter chaos. I knew that it was different from other people’s lives, but I didn’t know how people judged my family. Later I gained an understanding of how societal biases and systems of oppression only worsened my family’s situation, furthering the chances of generational disadvantage. There was a lack of knowledge and services for my severely autistic brother, lack of support for my mother, lack of money and an overall lack of equal opportunity to life.

My brother, Jake, is severely autistic and non-verbal along with various other diagnosis. I have experienced the gut wrenching pain of witnessing my brother in pain and suffering and feeling completely powerless. With very limited means of communication, he was unable to express himself or make decisions for himself about his life. My brother has had the most terrifying life experiences that I could imagine. Not only did he experience the dysfunction of our home life and being institutionalized, but he was unable to express himself, be understood, and suffered greatly. Having a brother with severe disabilities has contributed to my development of empathy, compassion, and accepting differences among people. My mother fought with every tooth and nail to get support for him, but at the same time, she was miserable and desperate, taking out her anger and sadness on her children.

Beginning from infancy, I was moved around to live with different families who would care for me for periods of time when my mother could not. There were so many families that I cannot account for who or where I was living for many years of my childhood and cannot access memories for those times. This pattern of living with various different people made it extremely difficult for me to foster a strong sense of self-identity. I was not a part of their family. I had not experienced their family culture and could not relate to it. I was only observing it and playing the part to fit in temporarily.

I became consumed with needing to fit into other people’s lives, having them accept me and like me, so they would let me stay. As a result, I became a “people-pleaser” who put all others’ needs and desires first before even considering my own. I would often agree to things that made me feel uncomfortable and sacrificed my own needs. In fact, I could not even identify my own needs. I think some of this behavior developed from guilt that I had from inconveniencing these people’s lives by entering them. I felt more content in having other people’s needs met even if it made me feel bad than hurting someone’s feelings or upsetting someone by saying “no.” No matter what I did, I was never an equal in these homes. I was just a visitor from a broken home.

While I was provided for in the form of shelter, physical safety, and attention, I lacked in emotional connectedness. I remember an incident in which my heart broke. It was Mother’s Day. I had been living with a family who had another daughter the same age as me. I was living six hours away from my birth mother and wanted desperately to express my gratitude and love for the mother who I lived with at the time. I picked her a bouquet of flowers and created a handmade card that I displayed lovingly on the living room mantle that morning because I was too nervous to give them directly to her. Later that day, I remember seeing the flowers and card in the trash can. She never said anything to me about the incident, nor did I. Yearning for the love of a mother, I cried privately.

At times when I did live with my birth mother, I often experienced physical and verbal abuse. She was inconsistent in her moods and behaviors. She was often screaming at us children, crying hysterically, and cooking in a manic fashion into the wee hours of the morning. Food was a big theme in my mother’s house. While we lived off of welfare and food stamps, she was extremely quality oriented with food. She shopped for only local, organic groceries and was knowledgeable in areas of health and nutrition. She often put me down for being chubby and fat as a child and adolescent. I would feel worthless because I was needing acceptance and acknowledgement that I was good enough and loved in the world in order to develop a healthy sense of self and esteem. I later learned of her own struggles with bulimia and self-image. She modeled a dysfunctional relationship with body image and food that I would carry with me for my entire life.

Where my home was, it’s hard to say. I do not have many memories of my younger years and there are times throughout my life that I cannot recall with whom or where I was living. From these experiences, I struggled in developing self-identity from my family culture. I was not given the time or space to appreciate and develop what was special and unique about myself. As a result of this, I am indecisive and need to be reassured often. I often doubt myself and look to others for confirmation and approval. I feel inadequate and un-confident in my abilities instead. I am often questioning my actions and experiencing high levels of anxiety over seemingly minute issues.

Later in life, I did not identify myself as being an equal member of society. I became aware of the discrimination, judgments, and biases people, who did not fit societal expectations, experience, people who are labeled not “normal” and who have experienced life and early years of development differently. I felt that I did not belong and developed low self-worth. I was very depressed for many years and had difficulty being comfortable in my own body and experiencing life. I did not want to be alive to continue enduring such emotional pain and suffering. While not all of the depression, pain, and anxiety has gone away, I have learned new coping skills and ways of processing emotional pain in order to lead a healthier life. While I have developed resilience and strength, it is not without the experiences that have positively impacted my development.

When I was in the first grade, I was living with my mother, sister, and two younger brothers in Arcata, California. I attended public school where I made friends with a young girl. It is from that friendship that I met my God-Mother, Nicole. I call her my Fairy God-Mother. I look like I could be straight from her womb with our shared brown freckles, round features, and luscious red hair. We even share the same birthday. She has always been my one constant, unconditionally loving presence in my life. She has taught me everything about compassion, love, and acceptance of others. She has dedicated her life to serving others. She has modeled the most honorable way to live life; by healing others with love. I don’t know how it happened, just as any other family who I lived with, but she recognized my needs and sought to fulfill them in some way. Nicole had two children of her own and a husband. She had a family, but she invited me into their lives and enriched mine in the most abundant way.

Roxy, Issac, Shira with Mama Nicole in Boulder Colorado, Summer of 1991 Issac, Roxy and my daughter with Mama Nicole in Boulder Colorado, Summer of 1992

Nicole was the first person who helped me understand that my mother did love me, she just didn’t know how to take care of children or show that love. She helped me understand that my mother’s anger and abuse came from her own hurt and it was not my fault. She provided me with safety and emotional support, encouraging me to express my own sadness and hurt. She couldn’t save me from all the hurt, but she acknowledged me for being the special, lovable person I am. For those living in darkness, the impact of one shining star to light up your life is sometimes all it takes. For me, Nicole was that shining star.

Another important experience in my development has been in my relationship with my boyfriend of eleven years, Elaeth. I have not only found unconditional love, but also the one thing I had lacked my entire youth; stability. I have found the person I can rely on, who keeps me safe, who I can give and receive love and attention from. I have often felt that he is my whole family: my mom, dad, siblings, everything. He has contributed to my ability to develop through his constant presence and love.

From being a part of Elaeth’s family, I have been involved in a big family with nieces, nephews, cousins, grandparents, and parents; the glue of the family. He is one of seven siblings, living in close proximity, that often celebrate events together. While his family experienced their own challenges and adversities, they demonstrated to me the ultimate power of love for one another and involved me in being a part of that. Two years ago, Elaeth’s older sister Clare died of alcoholism. It was in the last three months of her life that I witnessed and became a part of the dedication of family and the strength that can occur from this relationship. The entire family provided 24-hour care, in shifts, for Clare, throughout the last three months of her life, providing all of her medical and daily needs as she was confined to a bed. Our shift was Saturday and Sunday. The family communicated, shared grief and joy, and ultimately surrounded her with the most intentional love possible.

I reflected on how this family was able to completely surround her with their love and attention for three straight months. During this time, I was working full-time and taking fifteen units of college courses. I was physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted, and yet there was not a question as to whether or not we could do this. Everyone’s lives were simultaneously occurring while they took on their role as hospice caretakers, providing the most attentive, loving care. I reflected on my family, being only my mother, two brothers and sister. I couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to one of us in a similar situation and who would be there, who would care enough.

Currently, my mother and youngest brother are homeless and I live in fear that it could easily be me. I do not have an accurate concept of my achievements or stability in my environment, and constantly fear that it could all be taken away in a moment. From this fear, I have developed a need to control my environment in ways that protect me and what I have created for in my life.

While my physical, emotional, and cognitive development has been permanently altered from living in chaos, I have also gained super-hero strength. Living with adversity has given me a reason to build up resilience. Being an advocate for people with intellectual disabilities, mental illness, and people living in poverty has given me fulfillment in relating to various types of people. My life experiences have substantially increased my intrinsic motivation to create my own physical safety and stability. I have gained an ability to withstand periods of intense stress throughout my life, and persevere. I am sensitive and empathize with various types of people, especially those in need. My experiences have brought me to where I am today and my work with children. Studying Early Childhood Education for the past ten years, has not only contributed greatly to my own personal development and understanding of myself, but has given me the tools and knowledge so that I can impact other people’s lives in positive ways and contribute to the healthy development of children.

All people are born into the world with a baseline of their temperament and personality traits. They will have tendencies to be more or less susceptible to certain ailments than others. Internal wiring is uniquely designed, affecting an individual’s pattern of thoughts. The process of maturation is abundantly clear. We can only scaffold knowledge onto previously known information, keeping in mind our cognitive safety. We cannot truly learn something we are not ready to learn. This is the aspect of nature in our development.

As soon as we enter the world, we begin processing, interacting and responding to the people and stimuli in our environment. Areas of development are strongly influenced by the conditions in which we grow and learn from. We are influenced by the most important adults in our lives who shape our young minds. It can make the difference for a developing mind and heart to have one ally. One person who fully nurtures his or her sense of worth and encourages them through the difficulties they face. We are always growing, learning, changing.

Developmental Theory Analysis Paper:

By Roxy Greenspan ©2015

My personal experiences have contributed to my knowledge and understanding of developmental theory. From my childhood, I developed patterns in response to my constantly changing environment. I have since become aware of my behaviors and tendencies in the world as a result of my life experiences. While I have always been a sensitive, caring, and generous person, my behaviors and patterns have evolved over time. In my early years, the lack of attachment to my mother led me searching for attachment and acceptance. In my adolescent and teen years, I became completely disengaged from my family for a period of time. I could not confront or process any of the pain I had experienced and turned to very unhealthy patterns of coping, such as self-harm, alcohol, and drugs. In my adulthood, I have developed healthier patterns of creating my own space to continue developing healthy behaviors, thus being more available to help others. Every stage of my development has been vital in contributing to where I am now and the knowledge I have gained.

Having an unstable living environment has resulted in me being very focused on creating stability for myself as an adult. I often try to maintain control over my environment and outcomes of events in my life. I become very anxious, over-anticipating events and unknown situations. In general, I have developed a desire to be in control of many areas of my life. My pattern of creating stability is also seen in my relationship with my boyfriend of eleven years. While I have been successful in creating stability for myself, the fear that it could vanish remains as I nurse my relationship with my homeless mother and brother. Understanding their lifestyle and struggles, because of their homelessness, makes it too much of a reality, and I am unable to dismiss the possibility of it happening to me.

My experiences as a child and adolescent that were painful, emotionally, physically, and cognitively, have given me perspective and empathy for others who live in high risk environments or who are experiencing challenges in their lives. I am instinctively drawn to people who are in need, who require tender love and care. I am deeply sensitive to people’s feelings and because I have experienced such pain, I do not want others to have to endure their pain alone. I have, also, had the amazing experience of a loving presence in my life; my God Mother, Nicole. Understanding the impact of her love and nurturing has resulted in my pattern of providing that for others. I feel most adequate when I am helping others or when I can positively influence another person’s life.

Another pattern that I have developed is my ability to find immense strength during times of stress. I have lived most of my life with sympathetic nervous system detecting threat. My emotional and physical being has remained in a protective state of constant stress. Because this is my reality and will continue to be, I have adapted to the state of being under extreme stress. As a result, I have noticed the pattern of elevating my stress levels consistently. It has become my normal state. I believe that I function more productively and am more connected to the world when I have many commitments and responsibilities, often involving the care of others. While many of the stress inducing situations that occur are a result of my family dynamic, I also have become aware of my actions that contribute to maintaining this state.

I believe that in order to excuse myself from dealing with some of the more challenging situations that occur within my family, I become extremely busy to fill my time and energy. If I am focused on all of these other responsibilities, it is more understandable that I would not have energy to put towards processing the hard stuff. It is more acceptable for me to avoid responsibilities, such as becoming my brother’s conservator, when I am completely occupied by my current responsibilities. Although I am conscious of this pattern of justifying my actions, I continue to feel immensely guilty for not doing more for others.

I have worked very hard to consciously change negative patterns that became a regular part of myself. One of my earliest formed patterns of people pleasing behavior has taken me many years to shift. It was not until I became confident in my abilities as an early educator and received mentorship from many important co-workers who affirmed my abilities that I could begin to believe it. In finally identifying my strength, what is special and unique about me, and gaining support in my professional experiences, I was able to develop more direct communication with others, specifically regarding my needs or situations that could be uncomfortable.

In school, I was so disconnected for many years because I could not focus on the irrelevant information being fed to me. I attended a prestigious preparatory high school my senior year because the family who I was living with at the time had ties to the school. I had no intention of going to college upon graduation. I had no motivation to excel. I was very depressed and using alcohol heavily. For many years I continued this pattern in an effort to push away pent-up emotions and trauma that I wasn’t ready to face. While it seemed like a way to not deal at the time, it only intensified my depression.

I have been able to build upon positive patterns in my life through years of growth, processing, working on my relationships, and positive reinforcement. I have consciously made a decision to lead a healthy life where I can positively influence others. I know now that I can only do that if I take care of myself first. I have become a dedicated student. I have worked on replacing negative self-thoughts with positive statements and affirmations. I am applying myself in life and believing that I am capable and competent. I have gotten a degree in Early Childhood Education and I am continuing my education to be an effective leader in my field. I have been reaching beyond my comfort zone and applying for other positions in leadership in education. Most importantly, I am recognizing how to meet my own needs.

In my relationship with my birth mother, I have had tremendous growth and development. With a deeper understanding of myself and of her mental illness, I have replaced old patterns, which maintained our hurtful relationship, with healthier ones. I have developed patterns to protect my safety while maintaining and building a loving relationship with her. I have developed clear boundaries, such as her not knowing where I live, saying “no,” and standing up for myself. I see her in the most humane way. I understand her behaviors are strongly influenced by her life experiences, which have been excruciating. While it is not an excuse for the way she treated her children, I do not hold hatred or anger towards her. I believe only love can heal. I have developed deep empathy and love for my mother. I see her strengths and the ways that she has contributed, and continues to contribute to who I am today, and for that I am thankful.

I have taken my fears and shifted them into motivation and determination to create a life for myself that involves comfort, affection, joy, and security. I have worked full-time and gone to school to be able to provide for myself and to break cycles of generational disadvantage. I am breaking cycles of abuse, addiction, and homelessness. In order to do so, I have built on many positive patterns and created new patterns in my life. I continue to work on balancing my energies, being present in the moment, and doing what I love each day. I believe my patterns will continue to change as I learn from further experiences and as my needs change.

From my educational and personal experiences of human development, I recognize how aspects of Erick Erickson’s Psychosocial Development Theory is apparent. Erickson’s theory is based on the idea of maturation spanning a lifetime. Through eight essential stages, he demonstrates how it is necessary for people to develop in specific areas before they are ready to learn in other areas. According to Erickson’s theory, the crisis presented in these stages will foster the development of specific patterns in life, resulting in different personality traits and tendencies.

I honestly believe that I wouldn’t be able to make the positive choices in my life without the strife and struggles that I encountered. The type of support a person receives through these stages and crisis, will influence their behavior. Without having the opportunity to learn from my mistakes and difficulties I would not have come upon the conclusions that I have. The epigenetic principal, which states that we need to establish certain foundations before we can move on to other developmental stages, supports this belief.  Every experience I have had up to this point has contributed to my development and thought processes.

Erickson’s theory is inclusive of variation and acknowledges that multiple areas of development can be present at any stage, although certain values are dominant. This theory acknowledges the conditions in which people build resilience and adapt. I adapted to various situations throughout my life. From my personal and professional experiences in human development, it is crucial to acknowledge that development is unique for an individual and does not always fit one model precisely.

I believe people grow and mature over time as long as they are interactive with their environment and are stimulated. I believe that different areas of development can be delayed due to traumatic experiences. I believe people have strengths in certain areas of development over others due to their experiences and genetic make-up. I also believe that it is our nature to adapt to almost any situation due to our survival instinct. People will seek out ways to meet their needs, in whatever ways they know how. Without the positive influences in my life, I could have very easily sought out my need for attachment and identity in unhealthy places or continued to build on my own negative patterns.

My feelings throughout my life of being anxious, fearful, and trying to maintain control in situations, relate to the ideas of Attachment Theory as described by John Bowlby and Mary Ainsworth. The idea that a person will develop specific patterns relating to relationships as a result of their attachment, or lack thereof, with their mother. Because of the lack of attachment that I experienced with my mother and the lack of stability in my life, I aim to fill that void in the ways that I can. I have seen the impact in some of my preferences, such as how I do not like to travel, I get homesick very easily, crave stability and being able to predict an outcome in all areas of my life. I have developed the belief that I can only depend on myself.

My theory of child development is strongly influenced by Jean Piaget, with the belief that children must be actively engaged in their environment to construct their own knowledge and understanding of the world. As they develop, their ideas will change and expand as their experiences do. I have supported play based learning throughout my work with children, acknowledging where children are developmentally and their beliefs. This type of support contributes to the development of a healthy self-esteem and worth.

From studying early childhood education, I have learned of the importance of the early years of development and how much information young minds are susceptible to. When children are stimulated in positive ways, through talking, reading, movement, imagination, and self-expression children continue to grow and develop. Development is stimulated through a safe, secure environment where one can explore in, delight in, and construct their own knowledge through the experiences they have. There will be trial and error, cause and effect, challenges and victories. These struggles and successes aid children in coming to conclusions or theories about how the world operates and what are successful ways of operating in the world.

Just as there are ways to foster healthy development in children, there are ways that can hinder development in certain areas. Emotional, psychological, and physical abuse affects cognitive functioning and impedes the ability to learn other skills. When a developing mind is focused on getting its needs met, it is less able to develop in other areas. When children are experiencing stress in their lives, it can also appear in unexpected ways. A child who is exhibiting challenging behaviors at school or with adults may be experiencing some kind of emotional pain and needs help processing it. Adults can support children in processing their thoughts and feelings and scaffold knowledge. When a child’s needs are met and nurtured, development flourishes.

While there are many beliefs of human development, I continue to find myself drawn to theories that demonstrate how development is not solely linear. There is room for individuality and unique circumstances. There is room for progression and regression. There will be unresolved issues in our lives that will present themselves later and areas of development that we will rapidly catch up on over time. As a living, human organism, we are born into the world with every cell in our body working diligently to not only survive, but adapt to various situations and challenges.