Fear and Loving in Minneapolis

"Fear diminishes me, makes me no bigger than that part of me which fears. Fearful, I am too small to contain thought, too small to hold real compassion. Protecting myself, I will hurt others."  
                                                                                                          Sallie Tisdale, "Warrior Mind" Tricycle Daily Dharma


I put my daughter on a plane to LA at the crack of dawn this morning. She'll be there just three days for a family celebration of her grandmother's 80th birthday. She loves LA. I'm originally from LA and am a great defender of the city, but I could never live there. I know that doesn't totally make sense, but I see the opportunities available there (or that used to be at least) and the great music and food, beaches and mountains, museums and theaters. And of course the movie and television industry. But I could never live there. The traffic, the long distances in the car--remember my recent epiphany: I don't like to drive. And it's no good living in LA if you don't like to drive. Unless you are Ray Bradbury (may he rest in light), in which case you have a chauffer.


So that leads me to being alone in Minneapolis for three days. It's a little funny because I'm in Minneapolis so that my daughter can train with her coach here. Otherwise, I'd be, well, home. But here is home now. So I face what I have often thought was one of my biggest fears: being alone. But I'm discovering a little something about myself (besides my growing distaste for driving). And that is, I actually kind of like being alone. Now, lest I tempt fate and the universe (you don't have to go looking for trouble, trouble will come looking for you), it's not that I want to be permanently alone (though I realize that is always a possibility), but rather I like having a little space in which to be alone. For the past 25-plus years I have decidedly not been alone (or at least I haven't been without company). I've had roommates, a husband, cats (too many to mention without feeing sheepish), two kids; there were even a couple of rabbits in there somewhere. It was only this last fall when my son went off to college, my husband to California, and then my daughter (two months later) to boarding school, and an additional trauma or two,did I really have the opportunity to face being alone for the first time. I didn't handle it particularly gracefully. But being the person I am, I believe that I created (or at least co-created) the situation just for that purpose.

But that was months ago, and I think I experienced a lot of what I so deeply feared about being alone. And guess what? It didn't kill me (though there were times I wish it would have!). As Nietzsche once said (and then later Kelly Clarkson) "That which does not kill us makes us stronger." Apparently it's been scientifically proven.  I think I can honestly say that, at minimum, I found that having some time alone has helped me restore--or rather helped me cultivate--a sense of myself. I miss the kids and the lovely company when they leave (I had them both home together for a month this summer), but I also appreciate the time and space to just, well, be. I have spent so much of the last 20 years cultivating parenting (and professorial) skills, that I forgot that there were other parts of me to be considered. And while being alone has provided me with opportunities to feel a lot of fear, it has also provided ample opportunity to heal some of those deep fears. The space has given me--forced me even--to practice cultivating love in the face of fear. Like the Buddhist story of the two hungry wolves, fear and love: which one will win? The one you feed.


Speaking of feeding, the day's events largely revolved around food and eating. First stop: Zumba class. Second stop: Farmer's Market across the street from YWCA.

Next, beets for lunch!

For dinner, a bike ride to the most delicious Himalayan Restaurant in the Seaward neighborhood. Here's what I saw on the way there:

Is this Seattle with the crazy streets? Recipe for trouble I say.

And then on the way home:

I loved the houses near the corner of E 22nd St and S 22nd Av.

And I ended the day with at trip to Izzy's Ice Cream (see previous blog).
I think I can safely say that I'm feeding the Love wolf.

And to top it all off, I'll end with this wonderful don't-panic-it's-organic California-y new age-y quotation from Robert Holden: "Fear never thinks that love is enough, but love is enough to heal every fear."  Think about it. And then feed love.