Archive for the ‘Owning Joy After Loss’ Category

How To Hold Space & Honor Loss

Friday, January 29th, 2010
Dan Aronie, our newest angel

Dan Aronie, our newest angel

Introducing Our Newest Angel
I’m wiping tears right now, Pinkies.
Pink Sage & Writing Genius Nancy Aronie’s dear son Dan died today. He was way too young, but after a long journey with multiple sclerosis, he has left this life for the next. When I heard the news, the floodgates opened, not just for Nancy’s loss, but for my own. Hearing her news brought me back two years, to the writing workshop I took with Nancy at Esalen Institute, where I met Pink Editor-in-Chief Joy, nearly a lifetime ago.

Holding Space For Loss
At the workshop, Nancy invited us to watch a documentary that was made about her son- his struggles, his path, how he overcame anger, resentment, and disability to find laughter, joy, and peace. I was hesitant to watch it. My own father had multiple sclerosis from a young age, and the wounds of losing him were still raw and bleeding. I wasn’t sure I could cope with what might come up if I witnessed Dan’s journey. But the amazing people in my workshop promised to hold me while we watched it together. One even went out and bought bottles of red wine so we could numb ourselves if necessary.

As Nancy prepared the DVD for viewing, the lovely beings in my class surrounded me with boxes of tissues and then guided me to the center of the room, where they huddled around me, touching me from all sides- a knee brushing mine, a head resting on my shoulder, an arm over my shoulder, a hand holding mine. Before Nancy pushed play, I started to cry, and the Posse of people gathered in closer. More hands touched me. I felt held.

As I watched Dan’s story, a story of loss, of disappointment, of dreams dashed, then of hope, triumph, healing, and the resilience of the human spirit, I cried. I felt deeply. I wept for the loss of my father, for Dan’s loss of physical strength, for Nancy’s loss of a healthy child. But I also cried with joy for the tenderness of the hands holding me, the feeling of safety that allowed me to sit among a group of people I had known for a mere three days, the beauty of true feelings expressed fully.

You Are Never Alone
By the time the movie was over, I felt fully embraced in the arms of those in that room- and I don’t think I was alone in feeling that way. Others cried. Other felt embraced. Dan invited all of us to experience loss with him, knowing we were safe in the arms of people we could trust. He guided us, showing us how much you can lose and still retain your spirit. He planted the seeds for what has become Owning Pink. He taught me what it means to be held, to be nurtured, to be cherished, to feel safe. Watching his movie that night taught me the value of community, the healing power of being held by those you can trust, the communal cleansing that happens when we live in love and feel the truth. Owning Pink began to gestate. Nancy and the people in her workshop taught how it’s possible to love people you don’t even know, when you open your heart fully. That group was the first Pink Posse.

(((((((((((((((Being Held))))))))))))))))))))))
A few months later, green shoots began to sprout from the fertile earth of that night. And almost exactly a year to the date later, Owning Pink was born. Very quickly, Pinkies flocked to the site like moths to flame. When Joy and I started Owning Pink, our mission statement was simple- “We want Owning Pink to invite people to go to that place of pain, knowing they are loved, safe, and nurtured.” Just like that night at Dan’s movie, I wanted people to feel empowered to face what hurts, while being held by many hands. The Pinkies quickly figured this out and started hugging each other with this symbol (((((((((((Pinkies)))))))))))))). Only today, Pink Goddess Dana pointed out that maybe this isn’t a hug, per se, as I had been thinking. Maybe it’s all those arms, just like the night of Dan’s movie, holding each Pinkie. I think she’s right. It’s about being held- fully, deeply, wholly.

Seeing Loss With Fresh Eyes
Just last night, I was at UCSF Medical School, taking Dr. Rachel Naomi Remen’s class “The Healer’s Art.” The subject of this week’s session was LOSS. Rachel reminded us that we are trained from early on to think that loss is bad, that LOSS=LOSER. But she says our losses do not diminish us. Loss is neutral. It’s the stories we tell ourselves- about life, love, other people, ourselves- that lead to suffering. Those stories expand or contract the quality of the lives we lead. She says that people rarely meet with loss in a genuine way- usually it’s “Let’s put this behind us and move on.” But loss is part of life. It’s a moment of truth, where we are invited to have a deeper knowledge of ourselves and others. She says the most common response to the loss of another person is to try to “fix” it, but fixing isn’t large enough for loss or for life. Rachel says, “Many things happen that are not fixable. But many things that can’t be fixed can still be healed. The goal in life is not to prevent loss but to meet loss in ways that are healing.”

I say, “Amen, sister.”

Reaching Out Without Trying to FIX Anything
And so, here I sit, grieving the loss of Dan, longing to ease Nancy’s pain, not quite sure what to say. And so I wrote her an email that read:

My heart is with you.
I hold you and sit silently with your loss.
Please know I am here for you- for anything.
Heaven just got really friggin’ lucky, love. Angels smiling everywhere.

What else can you say? But it turns out this is enough. It’s not our job to “fix” loss. Loss doesn’t need to be fixed. It just needs to be honored, to be held, to be witnessed with love, to be held with 16 hands in a circle and a box of Kleenex in between.

THIS IS WHAT WE DO
Do you see what I’m getting at, Pinkies? This is what we do. Joy just waxed poetic about this a few days ago, when a light bulb went off in her head and she suddenly realized that THIS IS WHAT WE DO. We just hold the space. We sit silently with each other’s stories. We hold each other.

What about you, Pinkies? How do you deal with loss? When you’ve suffered a loss, whether it’s the loss of a relationship, a dream, an object, your health, or a loved one, what have others done that helps you? What doesn’t help? How can we be more present for each other, to make this space even more healing? How can we be with loss, without trying to fix it?

Celebrating with the angels for Dan’s new life, and holding you (((((((((((((((((((((((Pinkies)))))))))))))))))))))))))))))
And especially you, ((((((((((((((((Nancy)))))))))))))))))))
Lissa

PS. To see Dan’s film, A Certain Kind of Beauty, the one I saw at Nancy’s workshop, click here.

For those who wish to honor Dan Aronie, the family asks that you donate to a foundation on Martha’s Vineyard that helped Dan.
If you’d like, send your donation to:
You’ve got a Friend Foundation
PO box 1317
West Tisbury MA 02575
l 508 693 7733

Thank you Pinkies!
Dan, as a young stud:

Dan, as an angel-in-training in 2007

Mojo Monday- What Would You Do If You Were Brave?

Monday, January 25th, 2010

courage

Dear Pinkies, please welcome back the wisest woman in my life, my best friend and Pink Mommy, Trish Rankin. She’s here today with some thoughts on dreams, transitions, and the miracles that exist in each of us. Take it away, Mommy, and thank you! – Lissa

***

Recently I heard a song* in the car that has tweaked my soul. The lines that particularly touched me were:

What would I do, if I knew that I could not fail?
If I believed, would the wind always fill up my sail?
How far would I go?

All the way home, I found the question rolling around the car as if it were a loose bottle of water seeking a place to settle. What would I do if I were brave? Would I seek my dream? Do I have a dream formulated or have I been afraid to even create one?

The Difficulty of Change

Since my husband died four years ago, I have tried to remake my way, but I am still far from who I think I can be. It would be easier to just go on as I am, remaining in the safety of the niche I’ve re-created. Change is hard and mine is no exception. David was my husband of 40 years as well as my best friend. We didn’t just co-exist – we shared life, and now I live alone. My purpose in life is now in question.

Venturing Out On My Own

In November I flew to Turkey alone, spent a week with our former foreign exchange student whom David and I were supposed to visit before he died. I was scared that something would go very wrong (and many of those fears were confirmed), but I did it. I then flew alone from Turkey to Greece, and connected with a small group from my church to go on a Mediterranean Cruise of four countries. I ended up in Greece alone an extra day due to a miscommunication and flew home alone.

I have never traveled abroad alone before and certainly not to a country where I couldn’t even speak the language, and where few I addressed could speak English. But I overcame my fears. I did it! I was brave, and I was proud!

So what would I ask if I could have anything? What is my dream?

My dream? It is to publish my recently completed book, and present 1-2 “Owning Joy after Loss” workshops a month, to help other women gracefully move through their grief journey. But that takes skill and persistence I’m not sure I possess. Doubt creeps in and steals my courage. My dream? To find love again, to fill my empty home with happiness through a committed loving relationship. But that takes risk, and I am striving each day to find the courage to confront that risk. I know I will.

Believe in the Miracle That Is You

Don’t be concerned about doing it alone. For there are miracles available within us – some large and some small. You don’t have to donate a kidney to become a miracle in someone else’s day or life.  A kind word, volunteering your time, a smile to an angry stranger, a changed heart – these are all small miracles that can change those around us and ultimately change who we are.

I have a sign in my dining room that says, “The poor woman is not one without a dime but one without a dream.”

So Pinkies-Dream big, knowing that the will of God never takes you where the Grace of God will not protect you.

What would YOUR dream look like, if you were not afraid? If you were brave? If you had courage to change anything you wished?

A MOJO MONDAY exercise:

1.  Give yourself a few minutes to close your eyes and fantasize. Where does your mind go if you give it permission to go anywhere exciting? What if you invited yourself to dream your biggest dreams, free of your inner critic and demons? What comes up? What would you do if you were BRAVE?  If you took fear out of the equation?

2.  Make a list of all of your wildest fantasies, your ginormous dreams- the life you might create if you took a Pleap (Pink leap of faith) and truly BELIEVED in yourself.

3. Now write a list of affirmations that will help you be brave. If your inner critic says, “You’re not smart enough,” your affirmation will be You are smart enough. If it says, “You don’t have enough money,” your affirmation is “Abundance is overflowing in my life.” Write as many affirmations as you can think of.

4. Now, try to still your mind in meditation for as long as you can manage (15-30 minutes is ideal. It opens up your mind to a place of receptivity).

5. After quiet meditation, start to dream your dream, in very specific detail. Visualize a day in your perfect life as if it was a movie. Don’t worry about the details of how and when. Just create the scene in your mind, believing it to be true. Imagine waking up in the morning. Feel what it feels like to be brave. What does your house look like? Your family? Your job? Your body? Your community? How do you FEEL in this brave life? How do things smell? How does life taste? Very as sensual and detailed as possible. Let your body live it.

6. There is a part of your brain that responds to this type of programming- (Lissa tells me it’s called the reticular activating system). When you stimulate it, it starts firing, and voila- before you know it- you begin to notice ways that your dreams might come true that you might not otherwise have noticed. Perhaps you need to find the perfect retail kitchen space so that you can open your dream restaurant. So there you are- at a cocktail party- and because your reticular activating system is now supercharged, your ears hear- from all the way across the room- some guy talking about how he has this kitchen for rent and needs to unload it really cheap. Had your brain not been fired up, you might never have noticed. So let’s do it, Pinkies. Let’s supercharge our reticular activating systems and be BRAVE!

6. After watching the movie reel in your head, open your eyes and read your list of affirmations out loud. Even better- read them into a tape recorder and play them with your eyes still closed. Believe them. LIVE them. KNOW them.

7. Repeat this exercise every day for a month- and see what happens.

What do you think, Pinkies. Are you in? I’m starting today…

Share your dreams, dear ones. What would you do if you were brave?

Getting braver ever day,

Trish

* “If I Were Brave” by Jana Stanfield

What would I do, if I knew that I could not fail?
If I believed, would the wind always fill up my sail?
How far would I go? What could I achieve,
trusting the hero in me?

If I were brave, I’d walk the razor’s edge,
where fools and dreamers dare to tread.
I’d never lose faith, even when losing my way.
What step would I take today, if I were brave?

What would I do today, if I were brave?
What would I do today, if I were brave?

What if we’re all meant to do what we secretly dream?
What would you ask, if you knew you could have anything?
Like the mighty oak sleeps, in the heart of a seed,
are there miracles in you and me?

If I were brave, I’d walk the razor’s edge,
where fools and dreamers dare to tread.
I’d never lose faith, even when losing my way.
What step would I take today, if I were brave?

What would I do today, if I were brave?
What would I do today, if I were brave?

If I refuse to listen to the voice of fear,
would the voice of courage whisper in my ear?

If I were brave, I’d walk the razor’s edge,
where fools and dreamers dare to tread.
I’d never lose faith, even when losing my way.
What step would I take today, if I were brave?

What would I do today, if I were brave?
What would I do today, if I were brave?

Introducing The Woman Inside Project

Sunday, January 24th, 2010
show1

Jade, a UCSF medical student, honoring one of the women inside at the opening reception at Commonweal

My aim in creating The Woman Inside Project is to shine a light on the beautiful woman that lies within each woman afflicted with breast cancer.  The idea to create this project came to me when, in my work as an OB/GYN physician, I had to tell a woman who was pregnant that her biopsy was positive for breast cancer. Inspired to help her memorialize that moment in time, before she gave birth, lost her breasts, and everything changed, I offered to cast her body in plaster.  The seed of an idea gestated, and five years later, I am giving birth to this exhibition as a way to honor the beauty within each woman, particularly those with breast cancer.

Jo

Jo

When I invite a woman to participate in this project, I invite her into my home, where I sculpt her torso using medical plaster bandages. After casting a woman’s figure, I hold up the sculpture and say, “So this is what the world sees. Now tell me about the rest of you.” I then listen for as long as it takes her to unveil the breathtaking woman inside. When she is done telling her story, I transcribe her story into a first person narrative of the beauty I see within her (and geez, are these women gorgeous!)commonweal2

Some of the women I sculpted describe the process as a spiritual healing of sorts, during which I touch their bodies, place bandages over their wounds, then remove the bandages, leaving them feeling whole.  For others, the process is traumatic, dredging up painful memories of surgical bandages and scars. Either way, the experiences are authentic, and I feel blessed to have been there, holding hands, holding space.

Lissa Rankin's The Woman Inside Project at Commonweal, Bolinas, CA

Lissa Rankin's The Woman Inside Project at Commonweal, Bolinas, CA

While traumas such as breast cancer crack us open and force us to grow, we all experience painful wounds that threaten to unravel us.  It’s how we respond to our wounds that tests us and gives us the opportunity to blossom. When you experience The Woman Inside Project, my goal is that each of you not only sees the beauty within these women, but that you see the beauty within YOU.

commonweal3While I chose as models breast cancer survivors because their wounds are so visible, I could have sculpted any group of survivors, and the stories would be equally riveting and awe-inspiring.  When people have been to hell and back- and you invite them to tell their truth- what emerges is a slender green stalk that, with tending, blooms into full flower.  The women who participated in this project have created a garden for which I can claim no credit.  It has been an honor to be their witness.

SHE LIVES

After five years in the works, tonight is the first time The Woman Inside Project will be exhibited. I am honored and blessed to be showing this body of work with kick ass photographer and Pink Goddess Nancy Bellen, who has overcome breast cancer herself.

SHE LIVES: Photos by Nancy Bellen, sculptures by Lissa Rankin

SHE LIVES: Photos by Nancy Bellen, sculptures by Lissa Rankin

Our statement about the show:

She lives through the words “You have cancer.”  She lives without knowing what tomorrow will hold. She follows a path towards recovery, and rallies the troops to help her overcome. She is not defined by her illness. She transforms. She surrenders to the Universe. She loves fearlessly. She takes off the mask.  She speaks her truth.  She rides the open road, giggling at gas stations. She plants a garden and watches it grow.  She dances with her arms held high and her head thrown back. Sometimes, she succumbs to the disease, but she lives on still, ever present. She cannot be broken because SHE LIVES.

SHE LIVES: Photos by Nancy Bellen, sculptures by Lissa Rankin

SHE LIVES: Photos by Nancy Bellen, sculptures by Lissa Rankin

About their show, Bellen and Rankin say, “This show is not about breast cancer. It’s about living. We aim to shine a light on the fact that we all experience and recover from loss over and over again in our lives.  Whether we lose a job, a loved one, a marriage, a dream, or a breast, we live still.  Not to diminish what anyone experiences, but we get to choose how we live in the face of loss.  Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional. Joy is a choice. This show is about how people live in the face of adversity. It’s about the resiliency of the human condition.”

SHE LIVES: Sculptures by Lissa Rankin, Photos by Nancy Bellen

SHE LIVES: Sculptures by Lissa Rankin, Photos by Nancy Bellen

Our show SHE LIVES opens at Commonweal today

She Lives
A Collaborative Installation with
Lissa Rankin and Nancy BellenJanuary 24 – March 6, 2010

Opening Reception:
Sunday, January 24 from 3-5 PM
Commonweal Gallery

451 Mesa Road

Bolinas, CA

Lissa Rankin at the opening reception

Lissa Rankin at the opening reception

Seeing the beauty within each one of you,
Lissa

Lissa Rankin & Nancy Bellen

Lissa Rankin & Nancy Bellen

Owning Life’s Storms: In Loving Memory Of My Pink Daddy

Thursday, January 21st, 2010
Mom & Dad, back when I was just a twinkle in their eye

Mom & Dad, back when I was just a twinkle in their eye

It has been a week of winter storms here in Northern California this week- hailing, winds blowing, lightning snapping trees, thunder shaking the very foundation beneath us. It seems only fitting, given that it is the four year anniversary of my Perfect Storm.  Four years ago today, my beloved father left this earth for a better place, and although he said goodbye with total peace, those of us who loved him found ourselves bleeding from the gaping hole he left in our lives.  My daughter had just been born two weeks earlier via C-section. My healthy young brother, who had flown out to say goodbye, landed in the hospital in full-blown liver failure and missed being at the bedside when Dad breathed his last breath. My 16-year old dog died without me. And so I found myself like Dorothy in the tornado, spinning in circles and landing someplace completely different than where I started. My Perfect Storm began the personal transformation that launched me onto the path I walk today.

Four years is a long time. It’s how long it took me to finish college.  Medical school lasted four years. Residency- another four years. My first marriage lasted four years. There seems to be a theme in my life around the four year mark- and here I am. Four years after my Perfect Storm, looking back, remembering Dad.

Dad, crying at my wedding

Dad, crying at my wedding

I remember how he built five-story high radio towers on every home my family ever owned so he could talk to strangers in South America on ham radios at no cost.  (Skype would surely blow him away).  I remember how he bought Mom a pregnant cow on their anniversary (a big step up from the year he gave her an oil can). I remember how he loved to hang out by the barbecue grill and make small talk with everyone as they waited from their ribs.  But most of all, I remember his ginormous heart, the one that paid for multiple kids who weren’t his to finish college, the one that tithed to his church his whole life, not because he had to, but because he believed. I remember how he would pick up the phone when Mom and I talked for hours. He never had much to say, but he didn’t want to miss a word.  I remember how my physician father, who never pressured me to follow in his footsteps, stood beside me when I graduated from medical school, how he passed the torch and said, “Now YOU’RE Dr. Rankin.”  I remember how we always said goodbye (“I love you Dad.”  “I love you too, baby.”) I remember how he hobbled me down the aisle at my wedding, using the cane he needed to help him overcome multiple sclerosis from the time he was my age. I remember how Dad never let his handicap keep him from lurching down a hiking trail or stumbling down a mountain on skis.  I remember how he never got upset at what he couldn’t do. Instead, he rejoiced in what was possible.

Dad and me at my med school graduation

Dad and me at my med school graduation

I’ll never forget how I let Dad down, two divorces later. I know he wanted me to have what he and Mom had- 40 years of faithful companionship. But he never made me feel like a failure. Instead, when he heard I would no longer be able to use my ex-husband’s car to transport my art, he sent me an old beater truck as my new art-mobile.  He wanted to drive it to me, cross-country, on a Thelma & Louise adventure of his own with a trusted friend, but Mom put the kibbutz on that idea (two old guys in a beater truck for 1000’s of miles? She was thinking- NO.)

I’ll never forget how, when he was dying of a brain tumor, he waited to die until my baby was born, so he could hold her, and we could tell Siena that her Papa loved her so much that he waited for her. I’ll never forget the day he asked if he could leave this earth, the day I wanted to say no but had to say yes.  I’ll never forget my mother, throwing herself across his still-warm body, crying, “David, I love the way you died.”

I’ll never forget…

Mommy remembers working side by side with Dad to keep their Georgia farm running, marveling at the progress a hard day of manual labor brought.  She remembers Rummikub championships that would go on for weeks. Scores were usually tied- but nobody much cared who won.  She remembers watching Dad and I walking down the street when we were in Indian Princess together- he was Big Acorn. I was Little Squirrel.  She remembers finding Dad pinned under a tractor and how she was somehow able to lift the tractor off him as if it was a feather.  She remembers how she dressed him up for Halloween in my sister Keli’s gymnastics outfit with a hairband, leotard, and tights. He could barely breathe (and you can imagine that his costume didn’t leave much to the imagination, if you know what I mean…) But he was a good sport about the whole thing.

Mom & Dad at the BBQ grill, where you could always find Dad licking his chops

Mom & Dad at the BBQ grill, where you could always find Dad licking his chops

She remembers 22-year old Dad taking her to Bok Tower in Florida, where he waited until the chimes went off at 2 o’clock so he could propose. He had tried to propose once before, but a coral snake scared him out of it.  But her favorite memory (she had a hard time narrowing it down after 40 years together) was right after I was born, when he was a young doctor, who snuck into the room, against hospital policy, to nuzzle me to his cheek. When the charge nurse kicked him out of the room, he leaned into my mother and said, “It was worth it.”

Mom, Dad, and Me!

Mom, Dad, and Me!

And so it was. It was all worth it. Every peal of laughter. Every tear. Every swollen moment of love. Every loss. Even with the pain, it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. And so- here we are, four years later, the end of another cycle in my life- the beginning of a new one.

It’s hard to say that a loss so tragic could ever have a silver lining. And yet, like every storm cloud, it has. Four years ago, when I lost my father, I was sleeping through my life. Losing Dad woke me up. Now, four years later, everything has shifted.  My life was so dramatically disrupted that I could no longer stay asleep. The loss and pain became action that brought my life to a whole new level of joy, authenticity, and meaning. It took pain for me to find my purpose.

The whole Rankin family

The whole Rankin family

And now I sit in the middle of another Perfect Storm, listening to the hail hit the roof, the wind howl in the trees, the rain patter. And yet, I know the sun will come out again, just as it has in my life since four years ago.  Four years ago, I thought I might never feel joy again, that I might never heal my broken heart, that my light might never shine again. What I didn’t know then is that these cracks in our lives are what lets the light shine through.

I love you, Dad.  I will miss you always. But I know you are with me still, my angel- just as you have always been.

Have you lost someone you love? Share your memories with us, Pinkies. Did you know Dad? Even better- help me remember….

lissaspiritboat sm

Heavenly hugs,

Lissa

How to Help & Pray For Haiti

Thursday, January 14th, 2010

haiti2

Dear Pinkies, Please welcome Tre Thorsen, author of Thought by Thought, a blog about listening, heeding, nurturing, loving…being true to ourselves, to one another, to humanity. Today, in the wake of the massive earthquake in Haiti, Tre brings us some thoughts not only about how to help, but to maintain our mojo in the midst of something that seems so uncontrollable. Thank you, Tre – we needed this!

****

By now surely you’ve heard coverage of the devastating 7.0 earthquake that shook Haiti Tuesday, January 12, 2010. Like you, I was shocked and saddened and actually broke into tears a bit, as I adore the Caribbean -  that nation’s people in particular are some of the most peaceful and genuinely heartfelt I’ve ever met.

But shock for me soon births call to action, and the first thing I did was begin to pray…

  • for my own sense of calm and clarity and strength and peace of resolve to know how to best help…
  • that anyone who has lost a loved one find joy after loss and peace in the moment
  • that frightened children be comforted
  • that the hearts of the world be opened in compassion to the huge tragedy those in Haiti have experienced
  • to know that those who are in charge of distributing resources from other areas will have the clarity and wisdom and means to get supplies and help there without distraction or delay
  • to defend the presence of resources available for right-now needs for safety and comfort…
  • to defend and support anyone that is stuck under rubble or trapped in the mountains or stuck and alone in any way … that will feel the presence and power of the universal divine Love that is with each and all
  • to defend anyone who has not yet been found will be located, and that anyone stuck in rubble will not suffocate and will be found
  • to defend that there will be a way for supports to arrive, as of this writing, the airport is closed (Note to Pinkies: It’s now open! See how prayer can work!)

I kept on praying like this for a long long while.

Throughout the night on into the dawn, the twitter streams for #Haiti flooded in with similar prayers and hopes. It’s so inspiring when you literally watch in real life the flowing support of thousands of people from around the globe…and realize just how many are saying prayers for Haiti’s people.

But this doesn’t resolve the pull of desperate helplessness that comes over us all too often when there’s a human tragedy like this. So I had to keep on praying for myself too because there’s no rationality in feeling guilty that somehow others received a blow and I didn’t. That’s not logical thinking and it’s also not productive in anyway.

So getting past the pulls of ego and back to how my thoughts can devote themselves to understanding how to help right now these people, again I defended the presence of calm and order, because the pull would try to convince anyone that there’s going to be nothing but chaos and mayhem for a while.

The thing about defending truths: we can’t always see how they’ll pan out in the immediate. Nor can we always see how they’ll bear fruit in the months to come. But just like there’s a deep need to steer a sailboat when the winds kick up rather than be tossed about, there’s a vital need to steer our thoughts. And that is what meditating and prayer does for me….steadies my thoughts so that I’m open and listening to next steps of what is mine to do.

And I thought a lot about how any quake..any stirring and sifting can help all of us wake UP to the needs around us, to deepen our compassion to help whomever and however and wherever. We encounter so many human hearts day in and day out…Let this stirring rouse our compassion to be present – mentally and emotionally present in any encounter with another. Whether a smile or a hello. Humanity is reaching out for love, and we can respond with love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So, some practical next steps:

First, for soothing melodic sounds, twitter friend @ambienteer offers his recent compilations for download and requests you please contribute to one of his suggested organizations for aid for Haiti.

For latest tweet coverage, search twitter for #Haiti: Go to http://search.twitter.com and type in #Haiti — the hashtag symbol plus the word Haiti. Any tweet using that phrase will come up and you can see latest tweets and information that way.

You can also search twitter #RedCross, #Unicef, #CARE, #ONE campaign to name just a few of the many organizations already citing ways to help.

Pinkie Heather Shaw offered these suggestions in the Owning Pink community:

The American Jewish World Service has set up the Haiti Earthquake Relief Fund to respond to the crisis by supporting a network of organizations it works with.

AmeriCares has pledged $5 million to Haitian quake relief, and is soliciting donations to a general emergency disaster relief fund to help it accomplish that.

CARE International is sending relief workers into the city of Port-au-Prince and needs funds to support its efforts. Suggested donations range from $50 to $1,000, but you can name your own amount if you prefer.

Catholic Relief Services has an office in Haiti, and luckily it’s still standing even though one of its neighbors collapsed. The organization is accepting donations of any amount.

Direct Relief International has committed up to $1 million in aid through two on-the-ground partners, and is sending containers of medical material aid.

Oxfam has 200 people on the ground to deal with the crisis, and began its efforts by trying to get clean water to victims of the quake. One of its staffers recorded a podcast describing the situation. You can donate on the American or UK site, depending on where you’re located.

Yele Haiti is sponsored by prominent Haitian-born musician Wyclef Jean. You can donate through its website or via text message as described in the next segment.

Musician Wyclef Jean has used Twitter to rally web users to contribute to his grassroots Yele Haiti earthquake fund. He’s urged his followers to text “Yele” to the number 501501. If you send the text, the organization will receive $5. The amount will be added to your next cell phone bill. Consider retweeting Wyclef’s updates and get some of your Twitter followers to donate, too.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

How ’bout your perspective on any of this? How you’re steadying your thoughts, keeping calm, thinking through ways that you can help – whether praying for the nation of Haiti or other ways ?

Striving to stay steady on shaky ground,
Tre (&Heather)

Join The Pink Community and Feel the Love!