I Corinthians 3:17; Follow Your Jockey

"Am I my brother's keeper?" asks a plaintive Cain after he has killed his brother Abel. The implied answer is "yes, we do have an obligation to care for our family members."

This morning's sermon was about the Great Commandant: Love the Lord Your God with all your heart and your neighbor as yourself. It was ironic. I had gotten into a discussion with a more fundamentalist Christian a couple days ago about that very scripture verse and what it meant. The first message I got this morning was a slap for arguing--it is more important that you have a relationship with God than whether you disagree about how to interpret the Bible--weren't you being a bit egotistical?
Head bowed, "Yes, Lord."

Then came the reading in the title. I am not quoting it as I want you to go look it up. Two nights ago, I had found myself thrashing around once more over Mom's death, looking for peace, looking for a way to forgive and let it go, and praying that it be so. This morning I understood that I had to say this before I could let it go.

At the time Mom died, I had a lot of guilt, anger, hurt. Why had she not called me? Why didn't she ask for help sooner? Why was I detained in Portland? As I wrestled with these questions, my church chose to do a Bible study of the Book of Daniel. I tried to get to each one, but the only one I could was the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abedneggo. The point of the story was "Where was Daniel?" Daniel wasn't there because God knew Daniel was listening to Him; He wanted to know about the other three. I wasn't at home for my mother's death because it wasn't my turn to be tested, and it wasn't my trial. I had to accept that. I had done what I had believed God wanted me to do to the best of my ability, and I had to trust that. Dad had given me the role of my parents' keeper; God had not.

Shortly thereafter, I wound up having to have a hysterectomy, and I also had to accept that God had denied me the role of traditional mother. That wasn't an easy trial either--and I still grieve it. Yet I know that I made the best decision when I chose not to have children because the relationship I was in wasn't healthy enough.

God HAS given me many roles however: sister, wife, daughter, doctor, aunt, bhauju, and he has given me a name that embodies Mary, the Mother of Jesus, and the Western female aspect of God; and Kali, the Hindu Mother Goddess, the protectoress of mankind, and one of the three aspects of the Highest feminine divine. To invoke her name is to invoke the other two, and hence the most powerful Eastern female aspect of God--and He gave me the name Calanthe, a name out of Greece, where the West meets the East, and has made me a bridge between those two worlds. I didn't ask for any of it--and I have to go where He asks me to go. I don't know where that will be.

So, before I go, I have to finish a bit of keeping of my "brothers" and slip into the role that Nola assigned me: "Aunt Preachy"--that name hurt until a friend replied, "I wish my children had an Aunt Preachy. Maybe they would listen to her."---and I started to recognize that aunts are very important in our lives and who we become, and one of our roles is to be a bit preachy at times. We W women are a bossy bunch anyway. We don't much like being told what to do, and we consider ourselves strong, independent, liberated. We are all of that--and the W men tend to marry women who are that way as well. Yet, I hope that we can let go of the egotism in that strength for just a moment, and embrace the sharing of hard-fought-for women's wisdom that is also a birthright of we who are female.

I care for my sister, Nola; my sister-in-law,Tigress;and my cousin, Big Boss, and I care for their immortal souls--and I am worried for them. I cannot reach them. A few weeks ago, I had a discussion with my older brother and he was asking "where does this antisocial piece come from in our family?" and he blamed Dad. I went home and decided that it doesn't come from one side or the other--it is in each of us. It is the unexamined life. It is the outcome of ego without true humility. It is what we humans are without God in our lives--because God is the brake on our mind. Our mind can justify anything--it is the knowledge of Good and Evil that makes us think that we know enough to control our lives and not need God's guidance. We think that we know good, and that we are good. But our mind can slide over the edge to evil when we don't even realize it. The most important question is how do we stop it--in ourselves and in the next generation?

Last year I worked with a man who wound up committing suicide by shooting himself in front of his wife. He literally made the choice to die rather than admit that he was wrong--and tried to leave his guilt on her. I pray for his soul as well. If ever there was a human being condemned to Hell, he is there. Refusing to admit our limitations is the biggest sin--that is playing God. Refusing to accept our responsibilities is the second biggest sin--that is denying God's Will. In each choice, we run the risk of both. If we are taking care of someone else's responsibilities, then we are aiding and abetting them in avoiding God's Will. Each day, we have to ask, "What is the task the Lord has for me today? What is MY responsibility today? How is the Lord asking ME to glorify HIM?"

So often, we follow, instead, our own need to feel the rush of ego--the need to be RIGHT; not the quiet, peaceful, unacknowledged-by-man-only-by-God, deep-in-the-heart contentment of knowing that you are walking the path that God has given you. I once wrote an essay entitled, "Follow Your Jockey.", comparing us to racehorses, who needed the wisdom of The Jockey to get us through life. So go see Secretariat--know that we must contribute the heart, the energy, and the will--but without The Jockey on board, we might come in first, but we will never win the real prize. And if we fight against The Jockey, we'll not win at all--but we all are running the race. We have no choice in that.

"Evil triumphs when good men do nothing." -Thomas Jefferson. So when to say something? When to keep my mouth shut? I am not perfect, and I don't pretend to be. Yet, I have fought some difficult battles and I have gained a great deal of wisdom. As a Bhauju, it is my duty to pass what I have learned on. The smart ones will learn vicariously, the arrogant will rant about what a bossy bitch I am.

I can't run your race. I can sometimes see when someone is fighting with The Jockey. I don't want to run your life, but I do want you to do well in the race that really matters--because I LOVE you, and I care about you. There have been a lot of times in my life when I needed someone to really talk with me and tell me their true feelings. Usually they tried in an offhand or indirect way because they were afraid of my reaction. I reacted to the fact it was offhand and not direct--and there we go. The message didn't get through. So this one is especially for you--Nola, Tigress, and Big Boss--because I love you and you ARE my sisters--and I don't buy that "just a cousin" crap, Big Boss.

The Real America: Amalgamation not Assimilation

"Resistance is futile. We are Borg. We will assimilate you."

Interestingly, next to this picture was one of Bush in similar garb. Why this fear of assimilation?

Every sci fi fan knows this famous Star Trek threat. It is fought by introducing a single Borg who has been taught that he is an individual in the episode "I Borg." Picard resists assimilation and gains a name of his own: Locutus, though Memory Alpha, the Star Trek Wikipedia suggests that this is an idea of the Borg to make a spokesperson to humans. I think that it was a compromise by the Borg, having found an exceedingly strong-minded individual.

At our core, we as Americans know that Borg are the exact opposite of everything American. We truly fear them as much as we do death. I recently started asking how does that fit into our current political debates. The fear of assimilation seems particularly strong in the populace right now. Assimilation is a loss of who we are, a loss of autonomy, a loss of individuality. In psychological terms this is the crisis of individuation--suffocation vs death. Either we are assumed into the parent, or we are too weak to exist with out the parent and die--this is what creates anxiety. I have long maintained that America is in the midst of adolescent angst and individuation.

I would suggest that we are right to reject out of hand the path of assimilation. Yet, in doing so, we must not let go of our core value of amalgamation. There is a major difference. In the first, all become one and any differences are eliminated and suppressed. In the latter, the individual strengths--and weaknesses--of each component are kept, assessed, valued, and blended with the other components to achieve a stronger whole.

We must not allow the debate to become polarized, but rather continue to pull it to the discussion of values clarification, an exercise that my high school youth minister used. What are our core values? What do we agree on? What must we do? We can still rely on the words of our Founding Fathers for these things:
"All human beings are created equal"
"The government shall not endorse nor repress any religion"
"The government shall not limit the right to bear arms"
These are a few. The rest are written in the Constitution of the United States of America and its amendments.

I, only half jokingly, say that I am for a new party: The Equality Party, with an Equus as its mascot and eggplant as its color, or in Western English: The People's Party, with a Paint as its mascot, and purple as its color. The horse has long enhanced the simple man and worked for the common good. Purple was the color of royalty and associating it with a party implies that the people are the true rulers of this country, further it indicates a blending of the currently strident red and blue. It complements green, too much associated with one issue, that of environmental stewardship. Maybe we should do a new Star Trek with purple uniforms...Picard is a horseman.

Truth or Dare: The Cowgirl Trail

I have a game that is a version of Truth or Dare, called The Cowgirl Trail. I can't get anyone in my family to play it with me. There is a BIG UGLY HIPPOPOTAMUS in the middle of our family that no one wants to pull the rug off. I feel like the Little Prince and his picture of a snake eating an elephant....

You know how I sit and ponder things. Well, I'm in Havre, working while Skullcracker and the doggies are still in Portland, so I have been doing some pondering. These are some odd questions that popped into my head....

I know that both Pete, our hired man, and Wildman, my older half brother, sexually abused me at different times. I told Dad and it stopped. I also know that about 65% of obese women admit to sexual abuse, the percent is probably even higher. There is also a genetic piece, and we have many obese people in our family. Emotional and verbal abuse are always present when sexual and physical abuse are present. As we become less like animals we give up the latter two first. Obesity is the resultant anger stuffed inside.

I once did an "ancestral hypnotic regression" and "saw" my "grandmother" at age 4 being sexually assaulted by her drunken "father". Where did that image come from? Certainly no family story. Abuse is generational--it is passed down from one generation to the next, sometimes in odd ways. Sometimes it is not directly, but by leaving a child vulnerable to the abuse by someone else when the parent should by rights intervene, but instead they rationalize and allow the child to "be punished" because they "deserve it." It is when the parent can't face the truth themselves. I know that sexual and physical abuse runs in our family. I have re-created both in my earlier life in order to feel like "home".

Was Nola, my obese sister, sexually abused? From what age? Was it Wildman or was it Pete or both? And was it Wildman's stepdad who sexually abused him or Pete or someone else? From my own experiences and my knowledge of psychology and the family dynamics, these things would make sense. Wildman could never have told Dad about the abuse for fear he would have literally gone postal--my dad could get very angry and very protective. He had a form of manic depressive disorder and was hypomanic much of the time. It runs in the family--and I have it, too. Pete and Dad are long dead; I hope that the stepdad is as well, though I wonder, if it was him, what other legacy might be lingering on Wildman's mother's side.

I have written some death metal lyrics, initially they were prompted by a woman prof who took advantage of her position of power to create trouble for me. Then I generalized them and called it "Bitch Woman From Hell." Let me tell you that doctors can be very descriptive of people's hearts, brains, and guts.... I just realized that although I labeled it woman, I didn't demonize her female body parts--I love mine too much, and I have had much nourishment from women as well. And the same for men. Bitchiness is not gender specific in my mind, so I didn't relate it to the sexually specific organs. Oh, that's an interesting observation--next blog though.

Actually, when I was little, Mom was a "bitch woman" for me. Her temper was so unpredictable that I was scared to death of her. Dad was also a "bitch woman" for me--he treated me special, but there were two prices. One was that I could never grow up. The second was that my two closest siblings hated my guts because I was his favorite and got special favors. They still do deep down inside. The third way was when he used his belt to paddle, he insisted that you not cry. If you did, he hit you more. It was a special kind of emotional abuse. I know that my grandfather beat my grandmother, at least when he was drunk, and that the two oldest boys saw some of that. That's what made Dad run away when they divorced when he was age 12--he rode freight trains to South Carolina. Wait a minute--what do you think might have happened to a young boy along the Hobo Trail in the 1930's? I hate to think...another puzzle piece fits into place. How awful for him when he then was left by his father and his mother with an aunt, and treated as the poor cousin, in South Carolina!

Nola has been a "bitch woman" for me--she can be so fucking hurtful, because she knows me so well that she will get me to open up and be vulnerable first and then strike--then blame me for being too sensitive. It's a game she has played with me for decades. I used to just fall in. Then I started calling her on it. Now I have just shut down to her. I can't let the opening appear for fear she will pounce on it. Mom used to hold her back occasionally, but since Mom has gone she has no mercy. Mom also held me into a relationship with Nola when younger and would have fled it as a child.

Tigress tries to be a "bitch woman"--she tries to boss me and has tried, since coming into the family, to get me to wait on her. Again, when younger, I didn't have a choice. As soon as I was old enough, I pulled out all the power I had and vanquished her. I still can--drives her nuts. But I don't want to be in a power struggle with her, so I am working on ways of re-inventing our relationship. She drags me into a power struggle so easily, then passively-aggressively hits me. The only response that doesn't continue the game then is no response. It is better to just not be in the power struggle. Hence I don't ask anything of her. I don't expect anything of her more specifically. I am friendly and invite her to join me in things rather than ask her to put herself out for me.

Things are so often not as they seem. We ignore the huge things in the middle of the room, pretending that they don't exist, while they affect our behavior every day--or at least when we get stressed. Yet, it is like diabetes, the truly sick ones are the ones who don't get the medical help they need. They may seem healthy on the outside. Most times they even seem normal and downright lovable, and yet, their mental metabolism is totally out of whack. The more intelligent you are, the more likely you can pull yourself together, but also the more likely you are to see through the haze or, if you chose, the better you can hide the chaos.

A friend told me today to consider myself a dignified doctor and not an off-road cowgirl. I qualify for "off road" on the cowgirl trail of truth. I've earned the right by going beyond surviving to the point of thriving. So look out!

Lions, And Tigers, and Bears, Oh, NO!

This week has been a fun mishmash of animals--the new Zodiac, the Chinese New Year prompted some exploration into that Zodiac and the discovery that the animal of the year you are born is only the very surface of it really. It actually predicted some things that I wouldn't have expected it to predict. I ran across an article on Chinese mothering versus American mothering, and put it up on my Facebook page, expecting some indignant responses. I stayed carefully neutral, noting that I had never been a mom and that I used more of a Chinese approach with one dog and more American with the other. I am currently teaching my dogs to be driven from behind like horses so that I can use verbal cues to get them to turn corners ahead of me when we are out walking and I don't have to haul them back, and pull them around. Dogs are smarter than horses, they ought to be able to get it down pretty easily.

I am also reading a lot on psychoanalytic theory, and bipolar disorder, and its affect on one's life. As you can tell, I like to find things out. I am a knowledge addict--if I know enough, I can control my world--not, but at least it stretches the mind and offers real solutions versus something like alcohol or drugs which is merely a masking. So if one must be addicted, knowledge is a better one to have.

I didn't get any responses to the article--not a one. Apparently we Americans are smug in our belief that we the better mothers, and cannot even question that. It's too bad, because the Chinese style of doing things is going to be influencing our world, and we are going to need to understand it. A Chinese young person in rebellion against his mother is not a pretty sight for anyone.

One point that I keep beating on here is the need for acceptance of "good enough" better doesn't matter, only "good enough" does. And the reality that life never really is going to be good enough for our fantasies.

It isn't true that I am not a mother--I think that my friends could tell that. A female family physician is the penultimate mother in some ways--one reason that men are strongly attracted to them, and nurses. We offer, on the surface, the unconditional caring that our mothers never can give. When we form a relationship like that, psychologists call it a transference. That's why they say we marry our fathers or our mothers--we see in someone things like the parent with whom we have the biggest issues and try to work it out. Guess what, it happens with siblings as well. One sibling will assume the role of one parent, and one the other. The closer in age, the more likely this occurs. Your role with authority figures, like us doctors are all based on your relationship with your parents, and siblings. We spend our lives working out those issues--and that is how our brain matures! The resolution of those inner conflicts is how we become adults.

I am reading a book by a psychiatrist who makes the case for psychotherapy as a necessary part of psychiatry, and says there is something beyond the biological basis of the brain. I would take him one better--I think that psychotherapy changes the structure of the brain, creating new pathways, modulating pathways that allow us to create the unique Self that is each and every one of us. I think that religion does the same thing, and science, and every time that we have to solve a problem, or hug a child, or help a person. In short, every time that we suppress our own will for someone else, then we help create the modulating pathway that allows us to be us, and not our parents, or the infant that our brain must initially support.

Freud described this maturation event as the resolution of the Electra or Oedipus complex--the realization that we cannot marry our mother or father--and that it would be evil to do so. BUT we must first want to! What if your father is demanding, controlling, and the last person on earth you would want to marry? Thus begins the process of differentiation--the process that I am not my mother and not my father. Freud described the individuation process as happening at age 2, culminating at age 3. That is like saying that we should all be 153 cm tall and weigh 45 kilos when we graduate from high school. We are individuals, and this process happens differently for each of us.

We travel the Yellow Brick Road at different rates, encountering our own lions, tigers, and bears, wicked witches, and loving scarecrows. We discover how to unfreeze the metal in us, and find our lions of courage, or wolverines if you are Montanan...and in the end we find that the Wizard outside of us is a fake--that we have the wisdom we always needed inside ourselves. Then we can put on our ruby slippers, go home, wake up to real consciousness, and really appreciate it for its own reality.

My younger sister says that her strongest memory of me growing up is my plaintive wail most every day as we got ready for school, "Where are my shoes?" Now, could anyone tell me where I put those ruby slippers? And where is Toto? I can't go without him...I'll take my Kalo Chituwi and his picture, and it won't be for too long...

E: Endurance "This is Disney, It can't hurt me!"

I once went with some guys to a Disney attraction called "Alien Encounters." It was very realistic about this hot-breathed alien winged monster that had accidentally been transported into the room, and then escaped the glass cylinder of the transporter. Your seat squashed down as it stepped on the top. You felt it's hot breath down your neck, accompanied by a spray of warm 'saliva.' I gripped the armrests of my seat and kept repeating, "This is Disney. It can't hurt you. This is Disney. It can't hurt you." Every sense in my body was telling me otherwise. Yet I endured, and could have gone a second time just for the joy of the science fiction made real.

Endurance: "Live today as if your dreams have come true. Don't give up and don't fall into the trap of why hasn't it happened yet."

Boy, am I at a point in my life where I really need this one! I have endured so much for so long. Medical school, a career that I had to put on hold until I could sort out the dysfunction in my personal life, an abusive long term relationship, loss of Dad when I most needed him, loss of Mom when I finally had arranged to be with her, cancer, a horrible work environment last year. Whew! Can I just go curl up in the corner for awhile? That is what I want to do when I think of it. Yet, I am starting work again in ten days. I have to finish Christmas cards. I have to pack, and get the clothes ready to pack. I have groceries to buy, other paperwork. So I must endure.

Skullcracker and I find ourselves talking about how to build wealth, buying a house. The past three years have been financial a real bust. I have had illness, he was struggling to get through school and use his excellent education in a more productive way.

Backpacking is like this. What kind of idiot would want to slog around with a 50 lb pack on his back? Yet, the reward is a view that few else have seen--the tarn tucked into a perfect cirque, the panorama from a mountain peak, dinner by a fire in the woods, the taste of trout fresh caught and pan-fried, the sense of accomplishment of having endured and being able not just to survive in a hostile environment, but actually thrive there. There was a book about a young man who ran away from home and lived by himself in the wilderness, My Side of the Mountain. How sad that he had to run so far! How powerful a growing experience! How lucky he was not to have died. I love to backpack, hike, camp, and I am so glad that I did it in my youth. Some of my best experiences of life have been in Glacier National Park and the Bob Marshall Wilderness. A high school classmate of mine is a classical guitarist who writes and plays songs of the beautiful wild places of Montana. This is what Skullcracker and I both love about Montana.

Kali is an aspect of Parvati, the wife of Shiva. In Nepali, the couple to emulate are Shiva and Parvati. Parvati is the Daughter of the Mountain. She is absorbed into it and born again out from under it, with it's strength and endurance. She endures a lot out of Shiva, including beheading their son. Patiently she finds another head for him, and Ganesh, the remover of obstacles, is created. There is a statue of the city of Portland, Portlandia. I maintain that she is Parvati--so obviously a woman of great strength. She carries a trident, held away from here, a symbol of Shiva, her mate. Portland is born of Mount Hood, and has relationship with the sea. The symbol of the trident is associated in the West with Poseidon, God of the Sea. If one looks at Shiva and Poseidon, there is a lot of Shiva in Poseidon, but in the Greek version, the disavowment of the female is evident while in the Hindu version, Shiva eventually carries Parvati around with him after her death until her corpse rots into pieces. Rather gruesome for our Western sensibilities. But symbolically touchingly romantic. Poseidon remains the womanizing male. Yet the sea is our abyss of emotions: fear, love, anger, hurt, joy. Emotion is always stronger nearer the sea.

Another of my favorite songs is Dan Fogelberg's Netherlands. "High on this mountain, the clouds down below, I am feeling so strong and alive."

Mountains symbolize the meeting of challenges, the higher the mountain, the greater the challenge. Parvati is the perfect woman--what a high mountain for any of us to attain! Mountains are also where God dwells. He speaks to Moses at the top of the mountain. Moses sees the Promised Land from the top of a mountain. Jesus is crucified on top of a mountain. Mountaintops are sacred ground. It takes endurance to reach them, yet, in order to live there we must bring water. Thriving requires emotions, not just thought and endurance.

So head for the mountaintop--and save some room for a good size canteen.

"T: Time Out" The Gold of Gerbing

My roommate in college made up the verb "gerb." the definition is what I spent all day doing---looking up the extended Chinese astrology on my entire family. Fascinating, but hardly my top priority that I wrote down before going to bed last night. Well, the joy of not working is that one can give oneself a day of gerbing.

My day of gerbing was spent playing with Chinese Astrology. I discovered that there is much more to the process than the year of the Rabbit as we are going into. There are elements associated with each animal, and colors associated with the elements, and the elements are also interrelated. Does this fit a "scientific model"? No. Does that mean it can't have validity? When Einstein's theories didn't fit the scientific model of his day, did he decide that they didn't have validity? No. He was able to see in a different dimension, and describe different dimensions. There are limits to his vision as well. So part of what I was asking was does it predict things that I know to be true. Interestingly, in terms of personal relationships it does.

Last night while watching "The Big Bang Theory" I was able to make a joke about just having one breast--I'm status post mastectomy. It was a lovely nerdy joke stimulated by a line from the show. Sunil commented that what was funnier than the joke was my enthusiasm for it. As a male, I am sure that he has no clue what acceptance of my situation that joke represented. I am facing perhaps voluntarily giving up the other breast because of underlying genetic predispositions. That would mean all of my female parts would be gone---except my female brain, and certain superficial characteristics. I am experiencing some real anxiety about that---and like many I joke to face my anxiety. I would not have been able to do that if I were not in a position where I have a great deal of time to think.

This is the real value of time off. We tend to spend it doing fabulous trips and challenging ourselves by taking up new sports, or observing sports. I have a need for deep thinking, for self-analysis that not many people have. Most people from what I can observe--and it is biased by my own level of self-contemplation--do much less. That doesn't mean that they don't need it. Just means they are not as compelled to it as I am. Means that perhaps they are ignoring their need for it, and keeping themselves busy to keep from the anxiety that those unfilled hours allow to surface.

The problem is that the anxiety arises regardless of whether we acknowledge it or not. One of the calculations of Chinese astrology is called the four pillars--based on the year, month, day, and hour of your birth--and there is an element and an animal associated with each of these as well. Your birth animal and element are your most public side---how the world sees you and what you present to the world. In this I am a "Male Fire Monkey". Interestingly, I was born on the last day of the Fire Monkey year in the last hours, so I have overtones of the "Female Fire Rooster" as well--though it is not as obvious. this also has a component of your childhood and how that affected you--how that causes you to react to the world.

Then the month determines how you are in relationships--there I am a "Female Metal Ox"--and interestingly that indicates that I am loyal in friendship, serious, good disposition, just, but sometimes inflexible and stubborn--damn, nailed me! The metal part says that I can be cutting and hard, though female is also dark, the yang to be precise, so it indicates that friendships and associations are important to keeping me grounded and also give me strength.

At the day, we find our "true selves" that which is our core image: I am a "Male Fire Horse", though the Horse of itself carries the Female Fire. A balanced yin and yang of Fire--fire is a rising element, associated with summer and the fullness of growth. Weird associations with this is that in high school, when we played an icebreaker game of "What animal are you most like?," I always said a horse. Though there was a part of me that was envious of the guy who said, "Cougar." There are no water animals--and I would have sworn that Captain Bly was a porpoise--truly. One time at a zoo, the porpoises refused to play with anyone else in a huge crowd, but him. However,it seems he was "Male Earth Tiger" and Tigers dislike Monkeys. Hummmm. Earth Tiger vs Fire Monkey--not good. Interestingly, Horses dislike Rats--which is the same combination in my chart to his. Now the Skullcracker, my husband and I have no such cross matches. In fact compatibilities are all 8-10 on a scale of 1-10. I like that.

Then there is the Hour, a more secret part of us, that comes out in relationship to our siblings, and in old age supposedly. Here I am a "Female Earth Pig." This is the gentle peace-loving, easy-going, friendly part of me. Have to dig deep to get there. Yet, I was much of this when I was young--it was my role with my siblings. But the Fire Horse and Monkey wanted out! The Pig, Rabbit, and Sheep are compassionate, followers, and they are back seaters in life. There is no bad or good really since this is Eastern philosophy. The Male Fire Horse is the direct opposite of the Female Earth Pig in many ways. Interestingly, if I have remembered the time of birth correctly, Bee has the same duality, but in opposite positions: Male Earth Horse, and Female Water Rabbit. How to get her to her true self? There are very rare moments, a few of which I can remember, where I would see her as a Water Rabbit. I suspect that she shows this to few people, and least of all to me, whom she is afraid of overwhelming her. Again, how do I, the Fire Horse, nurture The Water Rabbit. Perhaps by allowing my Pig be seen again--the Pig is associated with water, so we can bond with that, but I need the Horse to keep from being overwhelmed by her as I was in childhood. She too has Horse, so working on that similarity will help. However, Dad gave her the horses as her domain, part of his unconscious need to keep me from growing up. So there is a conflict there. I have to honor her true self, not the one from childhood, nor the relationship part nor the public self. The Rabbit who loves the moon, her yang side. What yang does she love? Gardening, and mothering small children, and Jesus, who is very Eastern and Yang. Interestingly, I naturally did this when I lived there--and she ultimately rejected it. Hummm.

So I know that she and Bunny are enmeshed terribly. What is Bunny's true self? She is a "Male Metal Tiger." And I call her a Bunny. I don't have her birth hour, and I would be willing to bet that it is Pig, Rabbit, or Sheep--actually I think that she is a sheep there. So emphasizing her true self would help her overcome that gentleness and stand up to others, and also becoming more herself.

So I have started giving everyone nicknames, and I am going to change the above two names. Bee is going to be Nola Rabbit, just Nola for right now. Bunny is going to become the Tigress for right now. I will be changing them as our relationships change.

What did I learn about me? I learned that I need water--funny, I am very aware of water---my favorite hymn is "Peace of the River." I love the concept of the Living Water. Healing--my profession is a flowing water thing. Last night in a premier of a doctor show in the jungle, the man took his wife's ashes to a lake where the luminous algae glowed like fireflies wanting to be released. How Chinese in the image--fire controlled by water. I want to live next to that lake--but a lighted swimming pool will probably do. Washington University I think I should pursue that position. I need to tame the Fire Horse and work with her.

See, my gerbing had benefits I could never have guessed. What if I had scheduled a class in neurobiology instead?

"E: Education" Neville Rules Hogwarts!--and it turns out I went there....

What education conjures up for most of us is a picture of our school, usually the one where we had either the worst or the best experiences. School was always a good place for me. I love to read, and learning comes easily. It was my place to excel. My first date with my husband was to see the movie "School of Rock."

There is also the adage that our real education starts when we graduate from school. My basic religion tells us that God is not confined to the church on Sunday. I remember fussing because my husband and I had to push up our wedding to a month after my mother's death. Any, but the most demure, celebration was inappropriate. So we opted for the Justice of the Peace. I got to the ceremony, noticed that we had a Hindu, a Muslim, a Jew, and two Christians of disparate disciplines in the middle of Montana--that had to be an act of God! Then upon reflection, I decided that God probably spent more time at the courthouse, more prayers from there, more often.

The school were I would love to go is Hogwarts---wouldn't we all? We see ourselves as Harry Potter--the humble boy who one day will save the world. The little sister winds up with the hero, and the smart woman picks the man who doesn't have to be a hero--no one has asked him to do what he does. He does it for friendship, for love, for the love of mankind. He does it even when we don't think he's going to have the strength because we know he has weaknesses. As a blogger I follow noted, Ron Weasley is the real "everyman." And Hermione is the modern woman.

Everything I ever needed I learned from fantasy and sci fi novels. Seriously, when it comes to who to be, and how to be a curious, courageous, and compassionate person, read fantasy and science fiction. Because we don't associate the environment with any that we really know, then we can choose whom we like. AND who ever chooses to be Voldemort? We do---every single day.

We choose to split off our souls, and put on an inhuman mask. We are taught not to show emotion, not to be who we really are. We tell ourselves that we know the Secret of the Universe---that we are a loving person and we are acting out of love. Only God really knows how to love, and only God can give unconditional love. We just need to keep trying to love--because somewhere along the way we find that fantasy doesn't cut it. We must face who we are as best we can, ask God's forgiveness for the shortcomings, and acquiesce to his plan for us.

That is when our real education begins--that is the moment that we leave behind our fantasies, our childhood, and we start to make progress. We may have learned an awful lot about life before this happens, and we'll make good use of that when it does.

The first great lesson is how to really deal with the schoolyard bullies. What happens to Dudley? He accepts the reality of Harry after he faces soulessness (the most awful possibility) and starts to mend fences. What happens to Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon? They must accept the reality of that which they have denied or face the same fate--even then they have trouble believing it. Yet they all chose LIFE WITH a soul. What about Peter Pettigrew? He chooses not to see the reality of Voldemort and he dies--yet that death is better than continuing to live without compassion--ie soulessness. It is his moment of caring that gets him out of Voldemort's clutches. The real "everyman" in this story lies in Voldemort's Death Eaters, or those living in fantasy. The real messages are to give up on fantasy, embrace trying as hard as you can to love, and that is when the real struggle begins. Harry, in the end, goes on to be a father and husband--that is the real goal. This is where the real meaning of life is for wizards and Muggles alike--raising children and everyday work for the common good, not the greater good.

Actually, as I write this, I find an even deeper message in my second favorite character, Neville Longbottom. He grows the most in the books, and becomes a professor in his favorite field at Hogwarts. All the recognition he gets for actually being the one to allow the Chosen One to kill the Bad Guy is having the peaceful life of his dreams. Neville is the real winner in the whole story and Neville is the best man in the end. His only reward is the love of his friends.

So who is the wisest of them all? He who has friends who really love him for who he is--Neville. And he definitely appears to get the least boring, most exciting, most-grateful-for-love-and-friendship, guaranteed-unpredictable, and always-challenging-your-paradigm wife. Hence although on the surface Neville's life may seem dull, underneath it is full of magic. That is the final lesson of Hogwarts. So who is my favorite character? Luna, of course, the one who knows that there is more to life than the accepted paradigm and loves without ever questioning why.

Humm-it seems I went to Hogwarts after all. Earlier today I said that my favorite Bowdoin memorabilia was my self esteem. It was the place where I was first fully accepted: toads, buckteeth, and clumsiness; my passions were nurtured; and my fight against the demons started--And yes, many would take me for Ginnie or Hermione, possibly even Bellatrix, but I really strive to be Luna. Does anyone have some dirigible plum earrings?

"R: Roleplay" Showdown at the ACLS Corral With Michael Copass, ER god

"Fake it 'til You Make it" Wait a minute! Isn't this being fake? Who wants someone who's fakey? Like many tools, roleplay can be used in a good way, and in not-so-good ways.

There is so much hiding behind a mask in this society. Especially with some members of my family, I cannot be who I really am without making them angry. It gets tiresome. Twice in my life, at times of incredible stress, I have been told, "Being around you is like walking on eggs." (Yes, I have a temper under stress, like all of us. Luckily, I have a part of me that does not justify this, and yes, does feel guilty about it and I have been working on changing how I express anger, sooner when the stress isn't as bad.)Interestingly, the two people who told me that were the same two people who were stepping on my toes and refusing to listen to me when I told them, "Please don't do that." They were trying with their eggshell comment to invoke my guilt, so that they would not have to admit theirs. One of those persons is now out of my life. The other one I have invited back in. It is getting better, but only because I am not allowing my buttons to be pushed when the person tries. Nothing like a bout of serious illness to force you to get rid of the stress in your life, and start properly prioritizing--at least if you have some grasp of reality.

There are two types of masks one can wear--one to experience another character, feel their feelings, perhaps use their strength to give you strength when you can't find it within yourself. The second is one to give an impression you are someone whom you really are not. Have you noticed that actors who really enjoy being parents somehow wind up in roles as parents? And then there are the Angelina Jolies of the world: "I have adopted these children because I am a loving mother", but the roles she most likes to play are hard-nosed, macha females who kill people. Mother Theresa, she is not.

Before I experienced the change in my thought process back in 2002, I would give these people the benefit of the doubt. Now I call them as I see them--at least in my mind. Last night I was watching "48 Hours", a poor woman whose husband had attacked her and she had defended herself with a chopping knife, killing him. I was believing her until it came out that she had taken over her husband's office; his assets were all in her name; and, after many years of plying his trade in a professional manner, he had, since marrying her, taken chances and changed his trade to a similar one which made more money. He was in trouble with the authorities, the marriage was in trouble, and in two weeks, his life insurance policy was due to run out. OOPS! She was a good actor, but it became very evident who was the sociopath in the pair. The jury saw it my way--you should have seen the roleplaying: first the angry, wrongly judged innocent wife, then the crying and wailing innocent wife. The real kicker was when her comment was not wonder at how she could be where she is, but rather the self-absorbed observation that "I don't think I'll do well in prison." Well, as she deserves, she'll have a long time to figure it out.

To get back to the proper types of roleplay. We doctors use roleplay all the time--I, as a doctor, am supposed to be the all caring person who is here for your every complaint. Right--I am a human being with stresses and who has a very real slump in the day about 3:00PM, as most of us do. You use it with your friends--Your mind is telling you, "NOT that story AGAIN!", and you still laugh because you know that it is a favorite of this friend--and by God, the first ten times you heard it, it was funny. So you reach into the memory banks, and pull out who you were then, and the laugh sounds genuine. I use this example because I am notorious for retelling stories, and I do see it in their eyes. I love them all the more for that roleplay. One day there comes a time when you and your friend are close enough, and you are rested and unstressed, and somehow it comes out in a loving way that you have heard that story before, several times. And the friend is embarrassed, you forgive, the friend shrugs heanother r shoulders at that particular trait, and says, "When I start in again, please stop me before I torture you. PLEASE!"

There is exercise in roleplay that I have found useful; it is called "__________ On My Shoulder" It is 2:00PM, I am booked until 5:30PM, and I want nothing more than to go home and crawl into a hot bathtub. I put Dr. Marcus Welby on my shoulder, and say what he tells me to say until I have made it through what I need to do--and I do it in order to give the patient what they need that day.

Or a classic example: It was fourth year of medical school and I had my first ever final in Advanced Cardiac Life Support with the guy who invented CPR. It was going to be Anxiety City! I put on my cowboy boots, put John Wayne on my shoulder, and I went on to tell Dr. Copass exactly how to perform pericardiocentesis after the twelve people in front of me have failed to resuscitate this particular manikin and the monitor shows a normal sinus rhythm, but no pulse. THIS is the use that Linda Franklin has in mind.

So glad I studied theater in high school, so glad that I am not an ER doctor, and so glad that, the next time, I could do it in flats. Shoes make all the difference.

"C: Choice" Both Sides Now, The Hero's Quest, and quantum physics

Moons and Junes and ferris wheels, the dizzy dancing way you feel
as every fairy tale comes real; I've looked at love that way.
But now it's just another show. You leave 'em laughing when you go
and if you care, don't let them know, don't give yourself away.

I've looked at love from both sides now,
from give and take, and still somehow
it's love's illusions I recall.
I really don't know love at all.

Tears and fears and feeling proud, to say "I love you" right out loud,
dreams and schemes and circus crowds, I've looked at life that way.
But now old friends are acting strange, they shake their heads,
they say I've changed.
Something's lost but something's gained in living every day.

I've looked at life from both sides now,
from win and lose, and still somehow
it's life's illusions I recall.
I really don't know life at all." Joni Mitchell

I am reading this great book from the library on the "The Medical Model" of psychiatry and "The Psychoanalytical Model." It is entitled Healing the Soul in the Age of the Brain, and was written in 2001 by Elio Frattaroli. M.D.

A few years ago, I read where neuroscientists are finding that the brain is wired much as Freud described in his final years. His initial theories, which we hear the most about, he himself rejected, and went on to attempt to formulate a unified theory of psychology---kind like they are just now attempting to do in physics. As one family medicine program director I know once said, "Physicists think that biologists are too 'fuzzy.' Biologists think that sociologists are too 'fuzzy.' Sociologists think that psychologists are too 'fuzzy.' It's really that we are just talking about degrees of complexities." So if Einstein was a genius, what does that make Freud? He almost came up with the necessary theory--but subsequently it was dissected by the analytic types who currently rule the world of science.

My approach is integrative, and hence I believe that we need the integrative approach, especially now that we have dissected the human genome--how can we integrate that information?

The first point I will make from this book is to repeat an analogy that he uses to describe two approaches to life: The lap swimming approach versus The Hero's Quest approach. When we make a choice which approach do we choose? Is there a difference and is one better than the other?

The first approach he describes as like swimming laps in a pool. We occasionally come up for air, but mostly just put our heads down and swim in our lane, trying not to bump anyone else. Much of life is like this, and it is a good way to accomplish "life fitness," mostly building endurance.

The second approach he describes in Jungian terms: The Hero's Quest. The analogy is that we view our life as a quest for a prize of great value. We then expect to bump into others, to have failure as well as victory. We expect to fall down and have to pick ourselves up. Or as one of my friends, Walter H. Hunt, who wrote the excellent series of sci fi books, "The Dark Wing" Series, describes in his books, one must "Break the Ice Wall" You have to read the books to really understand that reference. For me, it describes my experience of resolving the Electra Complex, then having my mother die, and surviving the aftermath. In the books, the hero then finds him/herself in the Valley of the Lost Souls--yup, recognize it! Then must cross that to achieve his/her goal. There are of course, Dark Forces, other players, the hero's companion and assistant. In life, we usually don't have just one who play this role--in fact, Walter has played some of those roles in my own life. One reason I consider him such a good friend.

Obviously, the Hero's Quest is more exciting, the rewards more valuable, the challenges greater. Yet, there is value in endurance--in fact without it, the Hero could never accomplish his quest. Just as light is sometimes a particle and sometimes a wave, we must accept both ways of looking at life, and use both according to the time. He who only swims laps becomes limited in his outlook. He who only searches, if he has not endurance, will fail and wander in the desert.

Yet, even after looking at both sides, we find ourselves not knowing life--because it is the most complex issue of all--with integration of the two viewpoints we know much more about light than we used to, yet as my husband informed me this am, we cannot, looking back along the history of the universe using light-years, see The Big Bang--if there was one. Only The Light knows for sure.

I CREATE: "Imagination" Fantasy, the Army, and the Inheritance of Power

"I" is for Imagination - use this amazing tool to figure out what you want

"C" is for Choice - this determines the quality of your life - choose wisely

"R" is for Role Play - fake it until you make it - copy others who have what you want - it works

"E" is for Education - learn to replace old habits with new behaviors

"A" is for Action - conquering the fear - getting off the fence and doing it

"T" is for Time Out - fun is essential - decide what makes you happy and make time for it

"E" is for Endurance - live today as if your dreams have already come true - don't fall into the why hasn't it happened yet trap and give up prematurely


Imagination always reminds me of the Disney World exhibit where the crazy professor has the purple dragon, "Figment" I often would tell my nurses when I came in to work on charts on days off, I am wearing purple and my name is Figment. I threatened to get one to put outside my door--or perhaps a sweatshirt to wear on such days, or t-shirt. That clinic had horrible heating system so I had to dress warm, most are better.

As a fantasy/sci fi/mythology addict, literally, I use fantasy novels to escape from the stresses of life. There is one series I have read close to 30 times. It is a strength thing. I go there, imagine myself as the rider of a queen dragon managing the community and fighting thread--and I come back much more confident in my abilities in the real world. These novels got me through medical school quite literally. One is focused on a dragon healer and queen rider, Moreta, one of my favorite characters. When I felt unworthy, I became Moreta for awhile, and then I was a beautiful, desirable woman. Because she was also a healer and loved animals first, I could easily put myself in her shoes--and the elderly Queen rider, Leri, reminded me of the mother of my former major relationship--with Captain Bly, as my father named him. I shortened it to CB, and teased him about being like a friend's bull, Cuddles the Bull. They had the same forelock, and he was a Taurus. He preferred Captain Bly...But I had a great relationship with his mom. She taught me a lot. We had our differences, and we could be honest with each other about them. That is really what loving is. If one makes a marriage, one must take the extra step of choosing to make a life with that person, and the people whom they love. We did better at the latter than the former...Well, I did, but I have the more judgmental and controlling family, as you can see.

So back to imagination. This is the time of year that we let our imaginations go on who we could become. What is the best you can be? Yesterday was Navy, today we'll do Army. For some the military is a way to strengthen their character. It requires a certain amount of narcissism to survive it, and it is best for knocking down that overwhelming "id" and teaching us discipline. Two types of people don't do well there--one is the one with extremely strong narcissistic personality, and one is that one who has little or no narcissism--the hazing is just too harsh for the latter. The former cannot accept the discipline--and often wind up in Special Forces if they are able to stay in. CB had trained with the Navy Seals as part of the Air Forces Underwater Demolition Team--he was an incredible snorkeling coach, would hold your hand as you quaked in the sea, and could free dive to 90 feet! He just always fought with the owner of the boat in some way...I managed to lose my glasses in the first port on the trip where I met him, a small bay in the Virgin Islands. We were in 20' of water, on a 100' anchor line proscribing an arc through the water, and I was too nearsighted to give him a landmark. He searched for an hour,and darn near lost his knife. I thought it was kindness, but it was really narcissism, to prove how good he was at diving. Everyone else saw that, I didn't, amazing what imagination can tell you when you don't want to face the truth.

So there is good and bad imagination. The first allows us to envision our dreams, hopes, possibilities. The second allows us to ignore and rationalize that which we don't want to see. How do we tell the difference? In my experience, we don't until we get hit by the 2X4 over the head with reality. One day, after suffering enough of these blows, we find ourselves recognizing reality. It's what Freud called the resolution of the Oedipus or Electra complex and believed that there was a biological equivalent in the brain. I think that there is a modulation pathway that develops in the brain that allows us to think in this way. Freud said age three--I think that under optimal conditions it could happen as early as age three. More commonly, it happens as we get older. Of course, the older we get, the harder it is to grow new pathways--decreased plasticity is the scientific term. So some of us never do complete the process. We are in actuality infants and toddlers in adult bodies.

For me this occurred about a month before my 45th birthday, and was accompanied by a prescribed overdose of amphetamine salts which caused me to actually become psychotic in the following four weeks. This is because I also have bipolar disorder. The ability to live in fantasy allowed me to keep from becoming manic, as I would escape or misbehave which allowed me to release that tension. Imagine two year olds... Then I crossed the threshold and started facing reality. A mere two years later, my mother died. I was faced with the emotional equivalent of being a five(?) year old losing her mother, with the intellectual knowledge of a doctor that revealed the medical truths. It was not an easy transition of power--for all of us absorb the power of our parent when they die.

I had lost my father at age 21, when he had a hemorrhagic stroke and was never the same man. I held it together emotionally for my mother at the time, but paid for that in years of not being able to face the reality of his stroke. It hit me equally hard when he had the second one and his doctor wanted to put in a feeding tube, evoking pictures of patients with little mental function alive, but not living. I screeched "NO!" into the phone at my poor mother--then stopped and said, "I'm sorry, Mom, that was the daughter talking. Let me get into doctor mode and give you my best answer."

I only recently have gotten onto good medication for my bipolar. My father also had it, and I believe that there is a genetic basis for it in his family. Maybe even related to the fact that he had only one kidney which was the root of his death. Amazing how the Arthurian legend moral of each man planting the seed of his own death is acted out in reality. I know in my heart that I am ready to face the world, having sorted through the chaff, and extracted the wheat. Humm, my favorite play place as a child was the parked combines on the wheat ranch. Winter wheat is my symbol for love--amazing synergy. See---Jung was right, too.

Medicine, the Love Boat, and Grandpas "Violet: Service"

“Do all the good you can,
By all the means you can,
In all the ways you can,
In all the places you can,
At all the times you can,
To all the people you can,
As long as ever you can.”
John Wesley


This is the founder of Methodism, the discipline in which I was raised. It branched off from Anglicanism, got rid of the pomp and circumstance, and took religion back to the people--rather like the American Constitution did for government, though most of the Founding Fathers were still identified with the Anglican Church, or Episcopalian as it also revolted from its English Mother. It was a time of great arrogance in England, much as the USA is experiencing right now. Those people of great thought tried to reform, and when reform failed, they were willing to fight, and lay down their lives for what they believed in. However, one will note that what we consider as "good," the creation of a government for the people, and by the people was undertaken by those of great humility, such as George Washington.

If I could inject service anywhere in my life it would be into my profession. Doctoring is the greatest of all service professions--yes, more than nursing because we take the ultimate responsibility on our shoulders and we accept that when we enter our training--that we will have the ultimate responsibility. It is like being the captain of a ship, or a CEO, even if you are "merely" the captain of your patients' health. Like captains, there are good ones and bad ones. This is why surgery was originally separate from doctoring, and in reality still is. Surgeons are like tugboats or towboats--one hires them for a certain amount of time to move this large ship off of the reefs it has gotten itself onto, or nudge it into dock for the repair to start. Specialists are pilots that get you through a tight spot where local knowledge is invaluable. Good captains can get through a lot, with a bit of advice. Unfortunately, because we pay so little for advice, and so much for the intervention off the reefs, we get a lot of checking first for reefs, and we spend way too much on the hiring of pilots and tugboats.

Our current medical system is like The Love Boat, where even the Gopher thinks that the Captain is stupid, and he knows better. The captains are so busy running around trying to organize the ship, that they have no time to learn the local waters--and they have the specter of a legal suit if they put the damn ship into the shallows, let alone on the reefs. So we are paying higher and higher prices because we have turned the helm over to the pilots, and the helmsmen, the cooks who want to be captain, and we have hired the tugboats to navigate us across the deep seas. No wonder it was the Navy who has switched to a system of using family physicians the way they should be used. Psychiatrists, opthalmologists, lawyers, and accountants all have their captains and their pilots, their tugboats and tow boats, because they are complex systems. How much more do we need a family physician for systems biology to really be applied to our health? Instead of it being known as the field where the least intelligent students wind up--as it was in my day, and as far as I can see, still is treated like everyone else can do it better---it should be where we encourage our best and brightest to put their skills. We have encouraged the splitting of medicine for six decades, now is the time to encourage the integration of medicine. Get the captain out of the office, off the phone, and back guiding the helmsman, and on the bridge of the ship where he/she can see the big picture!

Yes, we can use PAs, NPs, genetic counselors, dieticians, physical therapists, respiratory therapists, psychologists, and a whole host of other paraprofessionals, but we need to put a Captain who knows the whole ship at the top and make the pilots answer to him or her, and he deserves to be paid according to his broad expertise.

Okay, enough of the Joe Morris--that's what my family calls me when I get on my soapbox, after my grandfather who wrote frequent letters to the local papers. He finally started his own blog--a weekly column for the small town paper. I am SO much like him in so many ways. He encouraged me when my own father would have held me down. I wish I could have seen how much then, and told him so.

Where can we do service? Charity starts at home--what can I do to improve my field and utilize peoples' talents the best and encourage the people with whom I work to be their best? What can I do to help my family be the best they can be? There will be limits depending on how receptive people are and how diplomatic you can be.

Once you have done your best with that, then look to society and see what you can do there that feeds your soul with the joy of giving, what is important to you. Answer the question, "How can I make a lasting difference?" Meanwhile, support your own spirituality, for service done without humility often creates more evil than it does good.

Onions and Eagles "Indigo: Patriotism"

"Breathes there a man so dead,
Who never to himself hath said,
This is my own, my native land."
Sir Walter Scott


Patriotism is fidelity applied to a sense of place. Our attachment to our place of origin is part of what makes up our sense of who we are, that fragile sense of Self that starts our pathway to brain maturation, and the ability to think as an adult. It is the place that our parents chose to raise their children, and even if an unconscious decision, or seemingly random, the place imbues the child with certain characteristics.

As we broaden our minds, then our sense of place also broadens, and yet, deep in us is that starting point as well. If we get in touch with our heart, then we will find that place. My aunt, who passed away peacefully this year, came back to Montana and visited all the places of her childhood, and high school years, and said goodbye to all of them.

I have found that since I decided to do my genetics residency, that I have been revisiting places of the past, people of my past. I will soon be heading to the region of our ranch when I was a child. I haven't lived in this area since I was 13. I am so looking forward to being there, and listening to the wind whistle around the corners of the house like I used to at the ranch.

Most of us Americans think of the military when we say patriotism. It conjures up images of Minutemen, and the Fathers and Mothers of our nation. Our flag, the eagle, uniforms, and bugles. I think of red poppies--that I used to help my mother sell for the Veterans of Foreign Wars Chapter to which my parents belonged. Dad served as a navigator in World War II. Honor--by serving our country we create honor. We have to be careful to keep it in honor of others, and not ourselves. It is easy to get caught up in our honor being about ourselves--that is the way of narcissism. Patriotism must have a sense of humility or it becomes too prideful and that, as the aphorism goes, goeth before a fall.

Accept your roots, you are disconnected from your soul unless you do. Although lots of rhizomes help stabilize a plant, a good root system is essential for how high you can grow. Nourish them, fertilize them, learn them, sometimes we even digest them. Our parents plant them for us, it is up to us to learn to care for them. Only then can we be the eagles that we are.

From Football to God " Blue: Fidelity"

This time of year we are so aware of the often rabid loyalty to American football (that's too long so I am going to call it "Zoneball" and abbreviate it as Z-ball)to Z-ball teams--first high school, then college, then pro-teams. My Nepali family is equally rabid about football (soccer). At the time of the World Cup my news feed is crammed with World cup songs, fans, and those lovely horns! There's brief reprieve from Super Bowl until the opening of baseball season, with the Stanley Cup shortly thereafter.

Last fall, I watched as one of my "Specials," Curtis, a young man of 10, played his first Z-ball game. The societal indoctrination rituals were amazing: the coaches serious, the refs gathered at the side, the girls as young as 3 and 4 in the cheering squad, one rebellious young woman was on Curtis' team. Yeah! Go, Girl! Was there a male on the cheer squad? No, but there was the Black Panther mascot joining the girls. Mothers and fathers were everywhere, cameras aflashing! I must admit that Curtis looked quite handsome in his uniform and I was proud of the way he played. His younger sister got the best shot of him though.

I have been caught up in this dance, really I have. When my medical school, the Huskies traveled to Florida to play for the group of wealthy alums who were there to also take a cruise, I was there in the Orange Bowl, the lone purple shirt in the West End. When we won, I wondered if I should grab the security guard to get out--it was the first time the 'Canes had been beat in the Orange Bowl in 9 years. My friend, who had not cheered much during the first half when her 'Canes were winning, was upset with me for getting so enthusiastic about winning. She had held back out of deference for me, but I hadn't needed her to hold back. I would have preferred she cheer for her team. I like honesty and especially honest emotion--as long as you aren't violent or hurtful, or if you were, you take steps not to be in the future or acknowledge your guilt. Assertiveness is fine, aggression is not.

So what is fidelity? Fidelity is a Met fan who wouldn't dream of cheering for the Yankees in the World Series even if they are playing the Boston Red Sox. Fidelity is picking a star and believing in that star enough to travel across the known world because of what that star means to you. The Magi showed fidelity to their religious prophesies. Our government shows fidelity to big finance--don't like that. It is the government for THE PEOPLE, not bankers. We all have our priorities in our lives and consistent with our image of who we are. The more solid our Inner Self, the more consistent we are. As you look through your life, what or who are your guiding stars?

My top one is God, and for me, I relate to that God as Jesus--much easier to relate to. I also chose to honor the feminine side of God by acknowledging the Hindu Kali, mother of mankind and its greatest defender. Somewhere along the way, Jesus lost His feminine side, so I have to inject it back in there.

Jesus' Great Commandment was "Love the Lord Your God with all your heart, and your neighbor as yourself." So I accept that as my top priority, and being who I am, and believing that "neighbor" means one who lives with me on this planet, I include a lot of living beings in that scope!

"The Earth is my birthplace and all humans my brothers" was my motto for when I became Worthy Advisor, with a theme of brotherhood, a flower being a stalk of winter wheat which is the metaphor for love in a Great Falls author's book, "Winter Wheat". We sang "Let There Be Peace on Earth and Let It Begin With Me" at the end of each meeting.

Where does my fidelity lie?
First God and, as an outreach of that, to the goal of a lasting world peace and respect for all mankind; and to Love--expressing that in all I do.

Next to myself: "to Thine Own Self Be True"--those things that give me wings in spite of my background that didn't include them: genetics, dancing especially ballet, songs/poetry; connecting with the ocean or the prairies (they give me a similar feeling and the mountains which give me the opposite feeling; Art, architecture,and interior designing: animals,spiritual learning and experience, Indian culture and cooking, writing, teaching. I love beauty--in movement, in art, in nature, in science, and I love mankind. I love to learn, grow, and share what I have discovered in order to give others the same joy of living that I have "down to the base pair level," and to help them avoid the suffering that I have brought upon myself.

Then my husband, so Nepal and Australia are my current top picks for places to go--that's where he is from and where his brother now lives. I appreciate his music and his interests even when I don't share them. I work to honor God through him and I am interested in his religion, so physics, and his culture, so Nepali cooking and life.

Below him are my parents: those things that connect me with them--church,genealogy, Scottish/Irish/Welsh heritage,horses, Montana,history,American Indian culture,winter wheat,hand sewing, flowers, baking; a connection to the common man, law

Then below them are my other fathers and mothers, brothers and sisters, best friends--I have had several "chosen family" as I found that I had a great need for loving throughout my life, so cooking,flying,sailing, fishing,canoeing, hunting, Golden Retrievers, Huskies,quilting, sports.

So first wings, then roots, and I must also nourish my rhizomes--takes a lot of energy. So I find I best like those things which combine a few of the above--like watching stars: they dance so they nourish my wings; they remind me of Montana, hence nourish my roots, and they connect me with my husband, nourishing my main rhizome.

What guiding stars do you have? What about them nourishes your wings, roots, and rhizomes? There lies your fidelity. If you don't have God at the top, then you are--is football really "Number One"? Or is it power, also known as control,feeling superior to others, instead of love? This is the difference between being a "good" person and being a "moral" person. A moral person does things because of how it makes them feel. A "good" person does it because God--Someone outside of themselves, Someone who they acknowledge as superior, but not with human faults--demands it of them. The way is not always smooth or your choice, but it is the Blissful Path and by far the best lit.