My Favorite: Juxtaposition

Mary-Ann Sontag March 26, 2022

The word juxtaposition is so wonderful, reminding us that life is layered and complicated and ironic and conflicted. The sacred and the ordinary — those things occupy the same spaces.

We started at the Bison Range…

This gem of a place is maybe an hour or so from my house.

Did you know that bison were all but extinct, and that their destruction was part of the plan to eliminate/control/hurt Native people in the USA?

Sometimes history is a heavy burden to bear but that doesn’t mean we ignore it.

We should listen and learn from uncomfortable Truths — and be better.

How perfectly wonderful to have one of my Perfect Sisters here. I am so lucky to have TWO of them. This is my Irish Twin — we are 10 months and 26 days apart in age…

A Californian bundled up — because 50 is cold when you come from the Sunshine state!

After driving slowly on a well-traveled track like we were on a ride at Wildlife Disneyland — while contemplating genocide and feeling gratitude and awe for survival — we moved on down the road, literally and metaphorically…

Juxtaposition indeed.

In the middle of western Montana…

The whole place was confounding. What the heck?! In Arlee, Montana?!

Yep.

An angel? With a thousand Buddhas?

That caused me to read up on whether Buddhists believe in angels. The world is filled with opportunities and invitations to learn things, isn’t it?

Including, it turns out, from rocks…

#truth

Those who took the bison from millions to 100 could not have been following the Buddha.

I learned that as the wind blows through prayer flags, messages of peace, compassion, and good will are being spread…

I wonder — does one have to open and ready to receive such messages? To learn the lessons?

And how can we remain open and receptive to messages and lessons that show up in the most unlikely places?

And as we walked back to the van…

Juxtaposition indeed.

The Inside Self: An Update

Mary-Ann Sontag February 9, 2022

I know I am not the only one whose Little Soldiers have been forced to keep moving even though they really need to crumple in small, sobbing heaps and catch their breath. Sometimes we simply must march on.

As some know, my life has taken some unwanted and unexpected turns, as Life is wont to do. The Husband continues to receive excellent treatment/care in Utah and has been evaluated by a national expert in brain issues — he will be followed in the future by that specialist, unless the aforementioned brain/mind issues cause him (The Husband) to make more unfortunate choices and refuse to cooperate.

Yes, it has been tough — complicated and messy and hard in ways I never imagined my life would proceed. How should one feel about spousal betrayal when the actions may well be related to glitches in the mind/brain? How should one react to information that a woman experiencing homelessness — but likely not brain glitches — has used my house and my husband as a crash pad?

I share that info as context but the main point of this post is about what helps. And I share because I know that while your life may not have blown up in such a spectacular way, being human is hard.

So what does help?

It helps when people understand that I do not have capacity. People in the Dark Place just do not have much to give most of the time.

It helps when people — understanding that lack of capacity — do not just give up and go away when they do not hear a response through the walls of the Dark Place, which are very, very thick sometimes.

I received truffles. Valentine chocolates in Berner boxes. An origami beaded crane, representing healing. Sage for cleansing…

Do you know how much those kinds of things mean when you are in the Darkest of Dark Places? I will remember to pay it forward when my turn in the Dark Place is over.

Others have sent emails and notes — not asking for anything but just to let me know that I am not alone.

When someone is hiding out — trying not to move lest the rest of them bleed out — gentle, undemanding, and persistent presence is so wonderful. Those who do not expect anything in return — thank you.

I have taken inventory of everything that has helped me in the past when I have had rough patches. This is a great strategy — if it worked before, it can work again.

At the same time, when we need to force broken-hearted Little Soldiers to keep marching, we cannot add more to their plates (there I am, mixing my metaphors again!). And so to do all the self-care things I need plus my job — and just to stay upright — I have had to dial way back on other things.

Truthfully, when you are in that terrible Dark Place, there isn’t much space to do anything but cry and so dialing back is easy — the hard part is not making it worse by feeling guilty for all that is undone.

Undone is okay. In fact, it is necessary. Think of undone — without guilt — as one form of self-care.

Exercise. I know from my past that exercise matters and once again, it is proving crucial. I have a Peloton bike and they should hire me as a spokesperson because I seriously cannot say enough about what that has meant to me over the past months.

I walk dogs. I do strength work, core work, etc. My Inside Self is messy but my Outside Self is in darn good shape!

I process with trusted people. I journal. I make goals so that I can keep some hope alive. I play Zoom cards with my family. I go tracking with Suzanne. I say no to more things than I say yes. I stay focused on TODAY — this minute.

All of that helps. I am intentional about being okay — that is why I am okay.

And I have been taking back the place where the Violation occurred — the walk-out basement. Apparently, the cats kept the poor allergic woman downstairs. Well-played, Cats!

I call it the Cleansing Project.

Who knew I was so darn handy?!

Well, yes — messy and pretty novice at all this…

Note to Self: Don’t lean on the wet countertop.

But still — redoing a countertop?! Furniture assembly?!

Okay, yes — there was some blood involved but I DID IT! And not just a couch…

Painting and cleaning and decorating.

Taking back my private spaces that were violated by betrayal and turning them into a place of love and welcome — because when all is said and done, that is how I roll.

The Wildfire that is Covid

Mary-Ann Sontag July 22, 2021

I took this photo just before sunset last night.

Those nearby mountains are usually crisp and clear but smoke from fires near and far are tanking air quality here in the west. Our eyes are burning, we break out into random campfire songs, and s’mores seem like an excellent dinner plan…

But life on the edges of the fires pales in comparison to those near and in the fires (human and animals), and to those fighting those fires. I am officially ready for a good snow storm.

The Covid pandemic is surging among the unvaccinated, who are not only getting sick and dying but also serving as incubators for mutations of the virus, putting all of us at risk.

I am teaching my Death, Dying, and Grief class this summer and tonight we have a Zoom session to discuss this question: When those who choose to be unvaccinated get Covid, do they then have a right to access (finite) health care resources?

The answer, in my opinion, has to be yes but the conversation helps us consider the social costs of individual choices.

At the very micro level, I can tell you that deaths viewed as preventable (vaccination = prevention) and/or caused by an external force (i.e.,unvaccinated Covid spreader) and/or that are what we call “off-time” (e.g. 56-year-old Clark dying of Covid) are much, much, much more difficult for the heart-shattered bereaved left behind.