Crossing...

It's my day to clear my mind and breathe deep before several days of witnessing Alzheimers ravage my mom. In all my life I don't think there has ever been anything that has made me more angry, or feel more helpless.

I found a beautiful spot full of enchanting nature trails and apparently what I needed this afternoon was to weep and weep as I walked them. The tears came just two steps onto this bridge as if I had stepped through an invisible waterfall. I stopped and looked ahead absorbing what was happening. It was clear the grief was over the fact that it won't be long before mom crosses a bridge that I can't follow. The pain of slowly losing her over the last year has been excruciating and something only someone who has lost a loved one to this nightmare of a disease can relate to. A year ago I never would have imagined wishing for her to cross that bridge as soon as possible. But, that's exactly where I am now. Wishing she could go and be free from the fear, confusion and humiliation her condition subjects her to nearly every moment she is awake. Free before it's more than my sister and I can care for. I'm wracked with guilt for wishing her mortal time would end, even though I know it would be the most merciful thing for her. I fight feeling there's something wrong with me for wishing it for her. At times like this it's so very difficult to see the lesson or the opportunity being presented to me. But, I know it's there and I'll keep leaning in with a loving heart to the very end. Mom's love for my sister and I has been ever-faithful and total. And that is how we love her, with complete devotion and heart. Treasuring the occasional flashes of clarity when she's here with us again for a moment.

Alzheimers forces loved ones into grief years before the one they love passes. I realized today that all the grief over the last year has in no way prepared me for the finality of mom leaving this plane. It will be crushing for a long while and there is no way around it. Nothing in this life is permanent or secure. The grief of losing one we have loved is testament to how deeply they touched our lives and all they meant to us. It is the manifestation of our connected spirits in transition. A terribly beautiful dance of release. So, we dance...

Tacking into winter...

Fall is definitely here along with it's unpredictable weather and rainy Seattle days. This time last year the infatuation stage of my relationship with #vanlife was just beginning to wane. I am way beyond that now and the interesting thing is I am enjoying this lifestyle more and more. Last October I didn't know what to expect of a west side winter in Hella. At the time I was still struggling to get the go-ahead with agencies to set up family portrait days in their shelters. By October I finally had portrait days going which was a big relief. But then, Hella's engine began clapping out and the clutch slipping. By the end of October, I couldn't drive the truck anymore except around Ballard. I didn't know what I was going to do. I was renting Uhaul vans and riding the bus with all my gear in order to do Jackdaw shoots! Suffice to say October through December 2018 was a very challenging time! With the truck broken down and the sunny days of open windows and doors and cooking outside over with for a few months, it all added up to a difficult period of feeling isolated and disconnected. But, oh what a difference a year makes! While there are still a great many challenges and unknowns in my life, I am entering this winter season in a much more positive state. I've put nearly 6000 miles on Hella's new drivetrain and she is running beautifully. I have made a great deal of new friends along the way and I certainly don't feel isolated anymore. There is quite the warm community of vehicle dwellers in Ballard, not to mention all the great locals that have introduced themselves thanks to Hella's vintage nature and rugged good looks. I've also made good friends with the local crows and they are always good company. As a matter of fact, I have so much community now that I have to go out of my way to get truly quiet, solo time.

It's been a unique experience for me since I have historically been an introverted person. Obviously, the exact opposite personality is required in order to build a philanthropic outreach like Jackdaw. Fortunately, I have become much more acquainted with my extrovert side. But, that has a lot more to do with years of personal work to reclaim a healthy sense of self worth than it does with Jackdaw's demands. It's quite something to look at all the events and changes in my life over the last six years and see how each has played an imperative and significant role in bringing me to the place I find myself now. I would have skipped so many of them if I could have chosen to at the time! There are so many times in our lives when we need to be broken in order to evolve. Nobody enjoys that shit, but it certainly gives us huge opportunities to grow.

One of my newly favorite quotes is attributed to Franklin Delano Roosevelt. He said, "A smooth sea never made a skilled sailor". I don't know if he wrote it or not, but he certainly had enough storms in his life that he earned the right to say it. Jackdaw has a long way to go to get to anything resembling smooth seas. And that's just fine. I know to my core that I am doing what I am meant to do, and I have complete faith in the journey. I am constantly humbled and encouraged by people's kind words and support. Never in my adult life have I had so little materially, and yet I feel so rich. I see the magic in every day and am constantly giving thanks for it. Such is a life of purpose and I highly recommend it! Passionately harness your natural abilities and talents and focus them with your heart's intent. Doing so will reveal your purpose and inspire your life. Don't ever tell yourself it's too late to chart a new course. There is always a way to make good use of your unique gifts. You simply have to be brave enough to leave port.

So very hard to let them flail...

I'm no paragon of wisdom. But, I've lived long enough to learn hard lessons from monumental mistakes and have consequently become adept at recognizing a looming train wreck. Nowadays I use this radar to good effect in all kinds of scenarios from the trivial to the significant.

Lately I've been struggling to resist using that radar to constantly save someone I care about from themselves. I've helped them avoid so many missteps in the last year that I now see how doing so has kept them from effectively internalizing important life lessons. Lessons that I learned the hard way in my twenties when nobody experienced was watching out for me. As painful and costly as that time of my life was, those disasters were instrumental in ushering me into responsible adulthood. Nothing so mercilessly brings about personal clarity regarding our choices as when the train has jumped the tracks and we're crawling out of the wreckage.

My love for this person is a huge motivation behind my desire to help them avoid suffering from poor choices. But, the reality is that a significant percentage of my compulsion to 'rescue' them from themselves is a selfish desire to not have to deal with the fallout of what could befall them if left to their own devices. In so doing, I have fostered their immaturity and dependence. That's so the opposite of what I want to do! What a true friend, mentor or parent does is encourage and foster responsibility and independence. We should stay focused on living our best life while giving counsel when it is sought and being a helpful resource when those we care about are digging themselves out of a hole of their creation. The key is letting them do the digging.

So, I am working hard to step back and consciously allow them to grow on their own. At times it feels as if there will always be something I am having to release my grip on. Letting go is by far the most difficult aspect of love. It takes faith in a process we cannot foresee and willingness to be vulnerable. Journey on!