I’m missing home and I’m wondering what that means. I carry my home in my heart, I know that. I’ll be renting out my physical home to give me the freedom for my journey – am I afraid to grieve another loss? Or am I just afraid of change? No difference…. My work now is to release expectations and be open to what will feed me in rich unexpected ways…. Being away from home is assisting this process, as hard as it feels right now.
Home at one time meant being with Jason. Tears flow with this thought. I do miss that home very much.
I also know I can create a home wherever I am. Jason is with me wherever I am. Jason was ready the last year of his life to leave our home in Ipswich, and so was I. He is reminding me of that.
We have been welcomed into the home of our dear friends Suchi and Kimchi in the Earthhaven intentional community near Asheville, NC. Our home is a yome, a kind of yurt, spacious and comfortable. We gather at the main house for meals and deep and fun conversation. We create community. We create family.
To me home is not only a place I feel I can be myself, with space, comfort, and peace. It is also family. I know I create loving family wherever I am.
My home last week was a beautiful wooded forest along a magical mountain creek in W. Virginia, Abram’s Creek. My family was created at the Network for New Culture summer camp, a group of 90. We participated in evolutionary workshops and met every morning for Zegg Forum, a facilitated process where individuals express transparency for increased awareness and healing, held by the large group’s sacred container. Personal growth can happen in leaps and bounds in Forum. Kule and I have been receiving training to be facilitators (in June in the intentional community of Ganas in Staten Island, NY). We shared our latest learnings with other Forum facilitators here at Earthhaven. We are passionate about having the tools to grow community, which supports our home.
We shared many sweet hugs and intimate conversations with our family at summer camp. We learned from our triggers, our teachers. “You don’t get your money’s worth if you don’t get triggered here”, a common quote at summer camp. It’s a gift to be shown what we need growth in. Family members are our best mirrors. The closing circle was abundant with love and gratitude.
The Earthhaven intentional community (IC) is a collection of homes and families that share in the ownership of the larger community. Other than dues and a 4-hr weekly work commitment (4 “leaps” a week), there are no requirements to be together in community. This allows for freedom of choice, and creates the perception by some that the community doesn’t come together enough, and there are many challenges created by the diverse needs of members and by individual expectations and rules. I’m hearing this is true in all intentional communities, and this is the start of our exploration into ICs.
What binds the community here is the larger home – Earth. There is great connection to the earth here, such respect and love for our dear earth, and learning about organic gardening, permaculture, sustainability, homesteading, composting, primitive arts, etc Just as in any community there is diversity of interests, and there are expectations that all will embrace the same dream(s). There are great growth opportunities, or FGOs (“another fucking growth opportunity”), what we often laugh about at summer camp.
I feel at home here when I see the values I value being expressed, such as connection to the earth and building community with powerful group tools such as NVC, empathy, and Forum. I am homesick when I feel uncomfortable about so much newness, things I am not familiar with doing or being, including the heat wave and the most intense moon time I’ve had in over a year. It feels hard, and I’m being guided to slow down, be with the earth, be with myself, unglue from what I have believed to be my home.
The earth is my home. The mountain air carries me inward, the sun warms my heart, the green forest is a feast of beauty, the water washes away the menses, the grief, the overwhelm of change, the rocks ground me. It’s all here to support me. There is nothing I can’t get here if I really want it. It’s all here, right here, with me.
The week before summer camp I was reunited with some of my Bluegate family, Christine Tulis and Kem Stone, members of my spiritual music family. It was like old times and better. Christine was an aunt to Jason, and our housemate for a year. The family bond never goes away.
The week before that my blood family was visiting from RI, CA, and Ohio. I have been appreciating my birth family even more since Jason passed. I didn’t even miss him at the photo shoots until after I saw the photos and missed seeing his face. It’s sad and it’s beautiful at the same time. We share so much love. My nieces are enjoying Jason’s treasure boxes; it was time to pass them on and it feels great.
I had a gathering of friends before we left for vacation. My extended family, my virtual intentional community(s), are there for me wherever I am. When I feel sad about leaving my community, Kule reminds me that we build community wherever we go.
I enjoy so much my family of women. The women’s group I co-facilitated at summer camp was wonderfully supportive and nurturing. I miss my women’s group back home, and they are with me on the phone and by email. I felt honored to be part of a spontaneous women’s group with Suchi’s housemate and neighbor, as we created a container of support for a difficult phase of the neighbor’s life. The women’s circle in the woods was a fairy ring, a sacred circle of divine feminine, an honoring of the full moon and all its magic. The wild woman inside me danced around the fire, the mother inside me consoled a sister who was stung by a wasp, the creator inside me made music. We shared our gifts and gratitude.
There are so many families to be created.
The world is my community. One World – it does exist. Right here, in my heart, my One Home.
Monday, July 26, 2010
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Reunion
I’ve reunited.
With friends.
With Source.
It’s been a time of major change in my life and I’ve felt the disconnection from Source bigger than I’m used to in recent weeks. The good thing is – it’s always right here with me, and I’m bound to bump into it again and it will stick! It’s been great practice in being in the moment; that’s where we find Source.
Playing music in spiritual community brings the connection back instantly. I’m continuously amazed how I can feel the pain of loss at the same time that I am feeling the bliss of being and connecting with Source. It is feeling more continuously that there is no separation; it’s all Grace. There’s no loss or gain; it’s all right here.
The First Boston Chant Festival yesterday was a magical reunion of many friends I hadn’t seen in some years. I watched my life of the past 25 years unfold in the meeting of dear soul friends, as we caught up in timeless minutes, sharing our current life journey with words and energetically. It was so beautiful to be in the opening act with Ashara’s kirtan band, and I felt my viola fill the room with the love I felt from me and all present to connect with our hearts. It is always a joy to share my musical gift in this way. The audience was filled with the radiance of recognition of a higher love.
It was a journey through time that showed me there is no such thing as time. We are all here for a short time and yet it is forever.
My sister Mariana came to spend my birthday with me; that alone would have made my day, and I got to see her enjoy the loving energy in this growing kirtan community. Sitting with Kule and Mariana amidst rows of loving friends was a sweet birthday present, reminding me of how much we have journeyed this past year, with Jason in our hearts. Moving through my life from childhood, my former husband Chuck was there, with dear friends we used to do kirtan (Satsang) with before Jason was born and when he was a baby at my breast. Then there were my North Shore healing arts friends and other local friends I have not seen enough of lately, and that I will miss so much when I move, along with other friends I have been wanting to connect with for the past year from the Human Awareness Institute. I reunited with sound healing friends from NESHRI (www.soundhealingnetwork.org I co-founded 8 years ago); the sound of Sanskrit chant, voices singing together, and beautiful instruments create powerful sound healing and shared intention for love and connection to Source.
They were all there, the old friends and the new, even the ones that weren’t there physically. It was a lovely reunion of dear souls who have accompanied me on my spiritual journey.
I reunite with Jason on a daily basis, but two days ago my experience of this shifted to a new place.
I was visiting Jason’s swimhole in the White Mountains of NH with Kule and my soul-sister Marie-Anne’s daughter Julia and her fiancé Jeff from Texas. We were enjoying our week-long reunion, reminiscing old times when Julia and Jason (two peas-in-a-pod) would make us laugh so hard with their silliness. I wanted to show them Jason’s swimhole, and when we got there it looked so different than the last time I was there, spreading Jason’s ashes last September. The water level was high, giving us less rock ledge to spread out in. The current was strong, making the short walk over the slippery rocks a shamanic journey.
When we arrived, I was surprised I didn’t feel great sadness. I felt at home. This was my place as well as Jason’s. I’ve come here every year on my birthday for over ten years. As I meditated with the elements, I could hear and feel the rush of water on both sides of my precipice, my piece of earth, and I could feel the warmth of the sun and breathe the refreshing mountain air.
I reunited with Jason. In the next moment, it was me. It was my connection with Source. In that moment, I celebrated the shift from seeing Jason as outside myself to experiencing me as One with Jason, as One with Source.
Re-union.
That the best birthday present!
With friends.
With Source.
It’s been a time of major change in my life and I’ve felt the disconnection from Source bigger than I’m used to in recent weeks. The good thing is – it’s always right here with me, and I’m bound to bump into it again and it will stick! It’s been great practice in being in the moment; that’s where we find Source.
Playing music in spiritual community brings the connection back instantly. I’m continuously amazed how I can feel the pain of loss at the same time that I am feeling the bliss of being and connecting with Source. It is feeling more continuously that there is no separation; it’s all Grace. There’s no loss or gain; it’s all right here.
The First Boston Chant Festival yesterday was a magical reunion of many friends I hadn’t seen in some years. I watched my life of the past 25 years unfold in the meeting of dear soul friends, as we caught up in timeless minutes, sharing our current life journey with words and energetically. It was so beautiful to be in the opening act with Ashara’s kirtan band, and I felt my viola fill the room with the love I felt from me and all present to connect with our hearts. It is always a joy to share my musical gift in this way. The audience was filled with the radiance of recognition of a higher love.
It was a journey through time that showed me there is no such thing as time. We are all here for a short time and yet it is forever.
My sister Mariana came to spend my birthday with me; that alone would have made my day, and I got to see her enjoy the loving energy in this growing kirtan community. Sitting with Kule and Mariana amidst rows of loving friends was a sweet birthday present, reminding me of how much we have journeyed this past year, with Jason in our hearts. Moving through my life from childhood, my former husband Chuck was there, with dear friends we used to do kirtan (Satsang) with before Jason was born and when he was a baby at my breast. Then there were my North Shore healing arts friends and other local friends I have not seen enough of lately, and that I will miss so much when I move, along with other friends I have been wanting to connect with for the past year from the Human Awareness Institute. I reunited with sound healing friends from NESHRI (www.soundhealingnetwork.org I co-founded 8 years ago); the sound of Sanskrit chant, voices singing together, and beautiful instruments create powerful sound healing and shared intention for love and connection to Source.
They were all there, the old friends and the new, even the ones that weren’t there physically. It was a lovely reunion of dear souls who have accompanied me on my spiritual journey.
I reunite with Jason on a daily basis, but two days ago my experience of this shifted to a new place.
I was visiting Jason’s swimhole in the White Mountains of NH with Kule and my soul-sister Marie-Anne’s daughter Julia and her fiancé Jeff from Texas. We were enjoying our week-long reunion, reminiscing old times when Julia and Jason (two peas-in-a-pod) would make us laugh so hard with their silliness. I wanted to show them Jason’s swimhole, and when we got there it looked so different than the last time I was there, spreading Jason’s ashes last September. The water level was high, giving us less rock ledge to spread out in. The current was strong, making the short walk over the slippery rocks a shamanic journey.
When we arrived, I was surprised I didn’t feel great sadness. I felt at home. This was my place as well as Jason’s. I’ve come here every year on my birthday for over ten years. As I meditated with the elements, I could hear and feel the rush of water on both sides of my precipice, my piece of earth, and I could feel the warmth of the sun and breathe the refreshing mountain air.
I reunited with Jason. In the next moment, it was me. It was my connection with Source. In that moment, I celebrated the shift from seeing Jason as outside myself to experiencing me as One with Jason, as One with Source.
Re-union.
That the best birthday present!
Friday, June 18, 2010
Trials and Tribulations
This last month of graduation brought forth a plethora of tributes to Jason. I am feeling closure around the school’s honoring of their lost classmate and recognition of Jason’s talents as an artist and musician. I’m the proud mother, supported in my grieving, as I witness others feeling supported in their grieving as well (better late than never). This culture is not comfortable with death, and there are ways that work for every community, such as standing ovations in lieu of words. Grieving is so important.
With tributes come tribulations.
“I don’t want the awards and tributes. I want my son back.”
Jason probably wouldn’t have received the Renaissance Award if he were still alive because his works wouldn’t have been known the way they are now. He was so “outta there” his junior year, and didn’t care to share his photography at school art shows. I’m still feeling out ways to recover from discovering Jason’s best music, and almost half of it, after he died. His close friends hadn’t heard the pieces either. He wrote in his journal that he didn’t think his music was that good; I believe he was changing his mind about that when he wrote a lot a few months before he passed. He just didn’t share it with others; it was too powerful in some way. Perhaps he wanted to be a normal teenager without getting too much attention or experiencing people getting intimated by him; getting accolades through the internet through DeviantArt worked well for him.
“I’m the dead kid’s mother.”
There was a huge turnout of the local community at Jason’s funeral ceremony (most of the names of the register I didn’t recognize), but less than a handful of parents and teachers reached out to me after the ceremony. When I would see someone in town I could feel their resistance to connecting with me. I was a reminder of their pain, of their own triggers about imagining losing their own child and their difficulty dealing with a death so tragic.
At the Renaissance Award I sat with Kule and the family of one of Jason’s closest friends, Gus. That was my bubble; I could actually enjoy the awards ceremony; it was creative and a celebration of so many students’ gifts. I found myself in appreciation again that we had moved to Ipswich to get Jason into the arts-oriented school. Jason’s award drew a standing ovation, but only one parent or student came up to me before or after.
Before the ceremony started, I said hello to one mother who I had had lunch with a year before (she is a consultant, too), and she thanked me for some advice I had given her. When I mentioned I hadn’t seen her since Jason died and I was curious why she hadn’t contacted me (I took a risk here….), she looked puzzled and said we weren’t close, and found a way to edge away. Another mother sitting at our table, who I had met a few times before, told me she wasn’t interested in reading my blog because she has her own spiritual path as a Christian. I was imagining the stories people might have about my perceived pagan-ness, perhaps related to witches burned at the stake in this area years ago……ouch.
I got a big hit that night, after the deluge of grief that washed over me upon returning home. I got so strongly that I should not attend the Senior Banquet because my presence is a reminder of heaviness that would spoil the festivities. That felt right to me. However, when Jason’s good friend Evan contacted me to ask if I would go because he was giving a tribute to Jason (with Jason’s photographs and music), I wanted to go and couldn’t because I had a bad cold. Chuck did a 180 and went to the event; I appreciated seeing his video. Evan did a wonderful job, and the standing ovation was also very touching.
“And now for something lighter….”
was the Principal’s line after Evan’s tribute to Jason; Chuck was amazed at the lack of awareness.
Bottom Line –
People don’t like heaviness. They don’t like being reminded of death and pain. My decision to not go to graduation was a no-brainer relief. I was grateful for what we received, and that is that.
Jason had already graduated, and I felt complete with his school. Graduation day came and went and I was immersed in sacred chant and music and even forgot it was the 10 month anniversary of his passing.
“I moved to Ipswich for Jason, so I would be stuck if I stayed here.”
I’m ready to move. I’m also conflicted. I have so much wonderful virtual community in the Boston area, even though Ipswich as a town has not met my need for the type of community I want to live in and I want to try living outside New England. I’m working hard to move and there are some logistical complications around getting the house ready, getting the right tenants, and balancing all of this with my busy consulting business and my biggest project of the year – grieving. It’s been overwhelming, and my body revolted with a bad cold. I got the message then – time to slow down and take care of myself.
“I don’t know where I’m headed.”
Jason is gone and I’m completely free to follow my passion – and I need to, to best honor Jason. He would want me to. I don’t have anyone to take care of except my travel partner Kule. Even Annaper the cat is taken care of; she just moved to Auntie Liz’s. There’s an incredible excitement about this, and it also brings up an old pattern (one I think all humans with an active mind have) that I want to know what is going to happen, to control what happens. I’m being tested big time, and I’m somewhat passing the tests to be aware of letting go of this pattern.
I’m coming full circle to Jason’s message to Be. It really is the way to happiness.
Tribulations turn into Tributes when I shift to this state of Being,
With tributes come tribulations.
“I don’t want the awards and tributes. I want my son back.”
Jason probably wouldn’t have received the Renaissance Award if he were still alive because his works wouldn’t have been known the way they are now. He was so “outta there” his junior year, and didn’t care to share his photography at school art shows. I’m still feeling out ways to recover from discovering Jason’s best music, and almost half of it, after he died. His close friends hadn’t heard the pieces either. He wrote in his journal that he didn’t think his music was that good; I believe he was changing his mind about that when he wrote a lot a few months before he passed. He just didn’t share it with others; it was too powerful in some way. Perhaps he wanted to be a normal teenager without getting too much attention or experiencing people getting intimated by him; getting accolades through the internet through DeviantArt worked well for him.
“I’m the dead kid’s mother.”
There was a huge turnout of the local community at Jason’s funeral ceremony (most of the names of the register I didn’t recognize), but less than a handful of parents and teachers reached out to me after the ceremony. When I would see someone in town I could feel their resistance to connecting with me. I was a reminder of their pain, of their own triggers about imagining losing their own child and their difficulty dealing with a death so tragic.
At the Renaissance Award I sat with Kule and the family of one of Jason’s closest friends, Gus. That was my bubble; I could actually enjoy the awards ceremony; it was creative and a celebration of so many students’ gifts. I found myself in appreciation again that we had moved to Ipswich to get Jason into the arts-oriented school. Jason’s award drew a standing ovation, but only one parent or student came up to me before or after.
Before the ceremony started, I said hello to one mother who I had had lunch with a year before (she is a consultant, too), and she thanked me for some advice I had given her. When I mentioned I hadn’t seen her since Jason died and I was curious why she hadn’t contacted me (I took a risk here….), she looked puzzled and said we weren’t close, and found a way to edge away. Another mother sitting at our table, who I had met a few times before, told me she wasn’t interested in reading my blog because she has her own spiritual path as a Christian. I was imagining the stories people might have about my perceived pagan-ness, perhaps related to witches burned at the stake in this area years ago……ouch.
I got a big hit that night, after the deluge of grief that washed over me upon returning home. I got so strongly that I should not attend the Senior Banquet because my presence is a reminder of heaviness that would spoil the festivities. That felt right to me. However, when Jason’s good friend Evan contacted me to ask if I would go because he was giving a tribute to Jason (with Jason’s photographs and music), I wanted to go and couldn’t because I had a bad cold. Chuck did a 180 and went to the event; I appreciated seeing his video. Evan did a wonderful job, and the standing ovation was also very touching.
“And now for something lighter….”
was the Principal’s line after Evan’s tribute to Jason; Chuck was amazed at the lack of awareness.
Bottom Line –
People don’t like heaviness. They don’t like being reminded of death and pain. My decision to not go to graduation was a no-brainer relief. I was grateful for what we received, and that is that.
Jason had already graduated, and I felt complete with his school. Graduation day came and went and I was immersed in sacred chant and music and even forgot it was the 10 month anniversary of his passing.
“I moved to Ipswich for Jason, so I would be stuck if I stayed here.”
I’m ready to move. I’m also conflicted. I have so much wonderful virtual community in the Boston area, even though Ipswich as a town has not met my need for the type of community I want to live in and I want to try living outside New England. I’m working hard to move and there are some logistical complications around getting the house ready, getting the right tenants, and balancing all of this with my busy consulting business and my biggest project of the year – grieving. It’s been overwhelming, and my body revolted with a bad cold. I got the message then – time to slow down and take care of myself.
“I don’t know where I’m headed.”
Jason is gone and I’m completely free to follow my passion – and I need to, to best honor Jason. He would want me to. I don’t have anyone to take care of except my travel partner Kule. Even Annaper the cat is taken care of; she just moved to Auntie Liz’s. There’s an incredible excitement about this, and it also brings up an old pattern (one I think all humans with an active mind have) that I want to know what is going to happen, to control what happens. I’m being tested big time, and I’m somewhat passing the tests to be aware of letting go of this pattern.
I’m coming full circle to Jason’s message to Be. It really is the way to happiness.
Tribulations turn into Tributes when I shift to this state of Being,
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Renaissance Man
Jason received his graduation award Monday night – The Renaissance Award – for outstanding performance in the areas of Drama, Music, and the Visual Arts. It was accompanied by a long heart-felt sacred standing ovation by the room packed with high school students and parents at the Fine Arts award ceremony, honoring the memory of this talented young man and dear classmate.
I received an email Monday morning if I could be there at night to receive the award for Jason. It was a very emotional moment but it didn’t really overtake me until after the ceremony. I wasn’t surprised they picked Jason; he certainly deserves this special award, the only one presented by the director of the Fine Arts programs in the Ipswich school systems. This is what he said when he presented the award:
“The Renaissance Award is given to a student who excels in all areas, in music, in art, and in theater. As a staff we get together to try to look at what to consider; there are so many students that are involved in all these areas, and so many talented students. And we kept coming back to this one student and no matter what we tried to get around it all, we kept coming back to this one student. Unfortunately Jason is not with us, but his spirit is with us. His incredible talent musically and artistically and in the theater as a member of the techies has been just within all of us. I know that he has influenced so many students here and so many teachers. He was an extremely creative young man, one of the most creative students that we’ve run into; extremely open-minded young man that had everything going in. His art work and his music continually “funded” that openness – his openness to many styles of music and art and many cultures, and through all of that created this very special young man – we miss you. He is really with us all. This year’s Renaissance award goes to Jason Foster. We ask his mother Michelle to receive this award for Jason.”
The fine arts director had gotten to know Jason in his freshman year class on electronic music, band class, the jazz improv class, Jason’s junior year independent study course on music composition, and witnessing Jason’s percussion ensemble performances, especially the last one he did 12/08 performing his music compositions on marimba from his independent study course. He may not have been aware of Jason’s photography talents until after he died. His recognition of Jason’s talents is greatly appreciated, and his willingness to give the award to a student who wasn’t present in the school this last year is admirable. Jason was present, in a different way.
It confirms to me that Jason’s spirit is so alive, continuing to inspire many.
I received an email Monday morning if I could be there at night to receive the award for Jason. It was a very emotional moment but it didn’t really overtake me until after the ceremony. I wasn’t surprised they picked Jason; he certainly deserves this special award, the only one presented by the director of the Fine Arts programs in the Ipswich school systems. This is what he said when he presented the award:
“The Renaissance Award is given to a student who excels in all areas, in music, in art, and in theater. As a staff we get together to try to look at what to consider; there are so many students that are involved in all these areas, and so many talented students. And we kept coming back to this one student and no matter what we tried to get around it all, we kept coming back to this one student. Unfortunately Jason is not with us, but his spirit is with us. His incredible talent musically and artistically and in the theater as a member of the techies has been just within all of us. I know that he has influenced so many students here and so many teachers. He was an extremely creative young man, one of the most creative students that we’ve run into; extremely open-minded young man that had everything going in. His art work and his music continually “funded” that openness – his openness to many styles of music and art and many cultures, and through all of that created this very special young man – we miss you. He is really with us all. This year’s Renaissance award goes to Jason Foster. We ask his mother Michelle to receive this award for Jason.”
The fine arts director had gotten to know Jason in his freshman year class on electronic music, band class, the jazz improv class, Jason’s junior year independent study course on music composition, and witnessing Jason’s percussion ensemble performances, especially the last one he did 12/08 performing his music compositions on marimba from his independent study course. He may not have been aware of Jason’s photography talents until after he died. His recognition of Jason’s talents is greatly appreciated, and his willingness to give the award to a student who wasn’t present in the school this last year is admirable. Jason was present, in a different way.
It confirms to me that Jason’s spirit is so alive, continuing to inspire many.
Message 27 - Feel the Flow
I felt the flow as Jason’s flower lifted in the wind, settled in a quiet pool of the creek, got pulled into the current, danced in some eddies, and drifted in with the tide. Drifting inward, to my heart and soul.
I’m feeling my flow.
On my morning walk down to the bridge, I saw a small white 5-petalled flower that reminded me of the days when Jason was very young, when he was obsessed with picking tiny wildflowers and marveling at them (later in life he was obsessed with photographing them). I joined him in the marveling; it was part of my life training with Jason, and it’s ongoing. As I walked to the bridge I felt Jason with me so strongly, letting me know with great certainty that I was being supported on my path in life. The tears came from overwhelm more than from sadness.
I released the flower on the bridge with the intention of letting go and surrendering to all the support that Jason is giving me, that God/Spirit is giving me. I watched the flower drift until I could no longer see it with my eyes, and felt the peace.
Peace. Just to make sure I got the message, a dove appeared on the phone line above me. The dove flew along the road ahead of me and perched again.
Peace now and peace in the future.
So much is happening to support my current transition, preparing to journey cross-country and explore my next phase of my life. Right before I picked Jason’s flower this morning I was reflecting on this. Even the challenging feelings triggered about not being embraced by so many in the conservative Ipswich community were supportive – I’m flowing in the right direction, away from Ipswich for an indefinite amount of time, and most likely permanently because I feel what Kule and I are looking is not in this physical location (New England weather, for one!)
I was reflecting on potential obstacles on my path. I no longer had any worry about Jason. What else could I be worried about? I had been concerned about moving far from my mother, but right before I found Jason’s flower I got the message so clearly and so profoundly that the tears almost stopped me in my tracks. Jason was taking care of my mother now. I didn’t have to worry about her anymore. What a gift.
I have evidence that Jason is taking care of my mother and many others. My mother shared with me recently that she has been doing a bedtime ritual of thinking of Jason very fondly, without great sadness. She feels him with her. It’s so true. She’s doing fantastic. I hope I’m doing that well at 80! I’ll book my parasailing flight in 28 yrs, the way she celebrated her 80th with us a week before Jason passed.
So there are no obstacles except the ones my mind makes up. That’s always the case anyway. We do create our own reality, or at least how we perceive it and what we choose to do with it. With no “real” obstacles, I’m left with my own resistance. I’m seeing the fog lift, to see my own resistance.
Bottom line - It’s a great time for a sabbatical.
My intention has been to “retire” this year, to move into working on what feeds me and trusting I get what I need financially. I like the idea of a sabbatical; it sounds so academic (well, I do have a Ph.D…) yet really fits with my current model. I’m not “resigning”, I’m just exploring new aspects of my work. I love my work, and I love the idea of moving into new “work” that feed me in my new phase of life – that of spiritual counselor. I want the time to cultivate that career. I’ve been on overload juggling all that’s on my plate right now with 4 jobs – consulting, getting ready to move, grieving, and developing new work. It’s a bit much for the human nervous system at times, and I’m delegating more of my current consulting work to absolutely the right people who are supporting my path as well as my clients.
I’m definitely flowing.
I used to lead a process called Flow Work – finding our flow and staying in it, manifesting what we want and releasing obstacles in our path. This was influenced by Abraham Hicks (“The Law of Attraction”) the movie the Secret, and in the past 2 years the Avatar work. It’s been my recent life work to teach being in the flow, in our own flow, and now it’s time to really practice what I preach!
The key is to feel the flow. I definitely felt it this morning at the bridge, and I am grateful for Jason’s message this morning. I will recall that feeling when I slip out of the flow.
I’m still drifting with Jason’s flower. It has travelled a long way down the creek since I released it this morning. I can’t see it but I can feel it.
I felt it last night when I was driving home at 1:30 AM in the pouring rain and lightning. The fog was so thick along the Ipswich River road that I had to stop because I couldn’t see the road. I was playing Jason’s favorite rock tunes and I reminisced about our adventures in the car through eery dark roads, making up stories about what could happen to us, and laughing the whole way. I turned up the volume, rocked to the music, and laughed with Jason.
As the plane was approaching Boston last night from the west we had a 20-minute constant-bursting lightning storm that was so unreal , I wondered if it was in my imagination. I happened to be listening to Jason’s ambient music (his first CD Drinnel), and the few songs that were playing through the storm were ones in which he brought in sounds that sound like electricity and thunder. No coincidence?
It’s so awesome flowing with you, Jason.
I’m feeling my flow.
On my morning walk down to the bridge, I saw a small white 5-petalled flower that reminded me of the days when Jason was very young, when he was obsessed with picking tiny wildflowers and marveling at them (later in life he was obsessed with photographing them). I joined him in the marveling; it was part of my life training with Jason, and it’s ongoing. As I walked to the bridge I felt Jason with me so strongly, letting me know with great certainty that I was being supported on my path in life. The tears came from overwhelm more than from sadness.
I released the flower on the bridge with the intention of letting go and surrendering to all the support that Jason is giving me, that God/Spirit is giving me. I watched the flower drift until I could no longer see it with my eyes, and felt the peace.
Peace. Just to make sure I got the message, a dove appeared on the phone line above me. The dove flew along the road ahead of me and perched again.
Peace now and peace in the future.
So much is happening to support my current transition, preparing to journey cross-country and explore my next phase of my life. Right before I picked Jason’s flower this morning I was reflecting on this. Even the challenging feelings triggered about not being embraced by so many in the conservative Ipswich community were supportive – I’m flowing in the right direction, away from Ipswich for an indefinite amount of time, and most likely permanently because I feel what Kule and I are looking is not in this physical location (New England weather, for one!)
I was reflecting on potential obstacles on my path. I no longer had any worry about Jason. What else could I be worried about? I had been concerned about moving far from my mother, but right before I found Jason’s flower I got the message so clearly and so profoundly that the tears almost stopped me in my tracks. Jason was taking care of my mother now. I didn’t have to worry about her anymore. What a gift.
I have evidence that Jason is taking care of my mother and many others. My mother shared with me recently that she has been doing a bedtime ritual of thinking of Jason very fondly, without great sadness. She feels him with her. It’s so true. She’s doing fantastic. I hope I’m doing that well at 80! I’ll book my parasailing flight in 28 yrs, the way she celebrated her 80th with us a week before Jason passed.
So there are no obstacles except the ones my mind makes up. That’s always the case anyway. We do create our own reality, or at least how we perceive it and what we choose to do with it. With no “real” obstacles, I’m left with my own resistance. I’m seeing the fog lift, to see my own resistance.
Bottom line - It’s a great time for a sabbatical.
My intention has been to “retire” this year, to move into working on what feeds me and trusting I get what I need financially. I like the idea of a sabbatical; it sounds so academic (well, I do have a Ph.D…) yet really fits with my current model. I’m not “resigning”, I’m just exploring new aspects of my work. I love my work, and I love the idea of moving into new “work” that feed me in my new phase of life – that of spiritual counselor. I want the time to cultivate that career. I’ve been on overload juggling all that’s on my plate right now with 4 jobs – consulting, getting ready to move, grieving, and developing new work. It’s a bit much for the human nervous system at times, and I’m delegating more of my current consulting work to absolutely the right people who are supporting my path as well as my clients.
I’m definitely flowing.
I used to lead a process called Flow Work – finding our flow and staying in it, manifesting what we want and releasing obstacles in our path. This was influenced by Abraham Hicks (“The Law of Attraction”) the movie the Secret, and in the past 2 years the Avatar work. It’s been my recent life work to teach being in the flow, in our own flow, and now it’s time to really practice what I preach!
The key is to feel the flow. I definitely felt it this morning at the bridge, and I am grateful for Jason’s message this morning. I will recall that feeling when I slip out of the flow.
I’m still drifting with Jason’s flower. It has travelled a long way down the creek since I released it this morning. I can’t see it but I can feel it.
I felt it last night when I was driving home at 1:30 AM in the pouring rain and lightning. The fog was so thick along the Ipswich River road that I had to stop because I couldn’t see the road. I was playing Jason’s favorite rock tunes and I reminisced about our adventures in the car through eery dark roads, making up stories about what could happen to us, and laughing the whole way. I turned up the volume, rocked to the music, and laughed with Jason.
As the plane was approaching Boston last night from the west we had a 20-minute constant-bursting lightning storm that was so unreal , I wondered if it was in my imagination. I happened to be listening to Jason’s ambient music (his first CD Drinnel), and the few songs that were playing through the storm were ones in which he brought in sounds that sound like electricity and thunder. No coincidence?
It’s so awesome flowing with you, Jason.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
Graduation
Graduation is coming up. It used to be very painful thinking about this. Now I get that Jason already graduated.
Jason didn’t need to go to college to do what he loved to do; he already did it. The art show at Zumi’s served as a ritual to celebrate this aspect of his life. The ongoing discoveries of his music and poetry brings up emotion not only because he feels so alive in the moment and it reminds me of his absence, but also because it continues to astound me how much he produced in his short lifetime and the fraction of it that he shared. The feedback from artists and musicians that confirm his talents brings up emotion not only because I will miss seeing him continue his career, but also because this is what he wanted in life; to be acknowledged as a gifted artist. He received this acknowledgment when he was alive by many. He sometimes basked in the glow of it and he didn’t always take it in and believe it, but he definitely enjoyed sharing his work with those who appreciated it. Being one of his biggest fans wasn’t enough for him; of course, his mother would love what he did (and I offered professional critique he appreciated)!
The key point is – Jason didn’t need acknowledgment to do his art and music. He was self-driven and created so much that he didn’t need to show it all. He knew how to be in the moment and not look back or worry about the future.
I can still feel that passionate energy he exuded when he completed a work of art of music, when he lived behind his camera lens, capturing the beauty of so much that he left behind for us to enjoy. I miss so much being with his physical presence, yet I am able to feel that presence through the palpable connection with that passionate energy, with his peaceful energy, with that Buddha nature he exuded and continues to exude. I can feel it anytime, getting immersed in his art and music, like being in a StarTrek holodeck.
Seeing him get his diploma isn’t important to him or to me; he received that diploma in a different way. He wasn’t generally interested in the school traditions or rituals. He was interested in following his passion and being in an environment where others followed theirs. His aliveness in his creativity is his diploma.
Jason was a great inspiration to many. His classmates shared this in a high school tribute to him this past week. An anonymous donor set up a college scholarship in his name. Many beautiful letters and internet sharings have echoed this inspiration.
If success can be measured by the inspiration and love felt by others one touches, then Jason was highly successful, and lived a “complete” life. He moved on to his next phase of work. Jason graduated with honors, not the traditional academic-achievement kind. The kind that mattered to him and to all that know him.
It causes me to reflect on how we never feel we do “enough”…..
What’s “enough” in a lifetime?
What do any of us really need to complete before we die?
What would life be like if we celebrated graduation every day?
I vote for celebrating graduation on an ongoing basis. I’m experiencing my transition to a new phase in my life in a mix of emotions – mostly exciting, a bit scary, and often overwhelming. Seems to fit with what most seniors might be feeling, getting ready to leave the nest to start a new life. Jason wishes each of his classmates a great future, and I know he is also wishing that for me.
Pausing to celebrate this as a graduation feels pretty awesome.
Jason didn’t need to go to college to do what he loved to do; he already did it. The art show at Zumi’s served as a ritual to celebrate this aspect of his life. The ongoing discoveries of his music and poetry brings up emotion not only because he feels so alive in the moment and it reminds me of his absence, but also because it continues to astound me how much he produced in his short lifetime and the fraction of it that he shared. The feedback from artists and musicians that confirm his talents brings up emotion not only because I will miss seeing him continue his career, but also because this is what he wanted in life; to be acknowledged as a gifted artist. He received this acknowledgment when he was alive by many. He sometimes basked in the glow of it and he didn’t always take it in and believe it, but he definitely enjoyed sharing his work with those who appreciated it. Being one of his biggest fans wasn’t enough for him; of course, his mother would love what he did (and I offered professional critique he appreciated)!
The key point is – Jason didn’t need acknowledgment to do his art and music. He was self-driven and created so much that he didn’t need to show it all. He knew how to be in the moment and not look back or worry about the future.
I can still feel that passionate energy he exuded when he completed a work of art of music, when he lived behind his camera lens, capturing the beauty of so much that he left behind for us to enjoy. I miss so much being with his physical presence, yet I am able to feel that presence through the palpable connection with that passionate energy, with his peaceful energy, with that Buddha nature he exuded and continues to exude. I can feel it anytime, getting immersed in his art and music, like being in a StarTrek holodeck.
Seeing him get his diploma isn’t important to him or to me; he received that diploma in a different way. He wasn’t generally interested in the school traditions or rituals. He was interested in following his passion and being in an environment where others followed theirs. His aliveness in his creativity is his diploma.
Jason was a great inspiration to many. His classmates shared this in a high school tribute to him this past week. An anonymous donor set up a college scholarship in his name. Many beautiful letters and internet sharings have echoed this inspiration.
If success can be measured by the inspiration and love felt by others one touches, then Jason was highly successful, and lived a “complete” life. He moved on to his next phase of work. Jason graduated with honors, not the traditional academic-achievement kind. The kind that mattered to him and to all that know him.
It causes me to reflect on how we never feel we do “enough”…..
What’s “enough” in a lifetime?
What do any of us really need to complete before we die?
What would life be like if we celebrated graduation every day?
I vote for celebrating graduation on an ongoing basis. I’m experiencing my transition to a new phase in my life in a mix of emotions – mostly exciting, a bit scary, and often overwhelming. Seems to fit with what most seniors might be feeling, getting ready to leave the nest to start a new life. Jason wishes each of his classmates a great future, and I know he is also wishing that for me.
Pausing to celebrate this as a graduation feels pretty awesome.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Thank You for Honoring Jason
I feel continuous gratitude. That was my renewed intention last week, that shifted me into a place of seeing and feeling beauty everywhere. I feel the loss of Jason with some occasional tears, and mostly with the eternal gratitude of having had him in my life. I’ve expressed gratitude to so many for all the support I’ve received. This message is a thank you to Jason’s classmates and teachers.
Thank you, Jason’s classmates and dear friends for keeping Jason alive in your hearts with your Facebook and other messages to him and to his parents. He is with you always.
Thank you, Class of 2010, for honoring Jason with your senior year T-shirts with “Follow Your Passion- JF” on the back. I know you hold Jason with you as you prepare for graduation. Think of Jason when you are moving forward in life, with all of its gifts and challenges, and know he is cheering you on. Always remember the Jason hug.
Thank you, classmates, friends, and teachers who came to Jason’s ceremony 4 days after he died, and sent cards, emails, and messages. It was an extremely tender time for all of us, and your presence, writings, tears, and sharings helped me tremendously in my own grieving. I was amazed at how uplifted I felt, and many others felt, at the ceremony - a tribute to how I want to remember Jason and feel his love and inspiration throughout my life.
Thank you, Evan Petto and yearbook staff and friends of Jason for writing a beautiful article about Jason soon after school started, during peak grieving time. Thank you also for sharing his poetry and photography with the school in the Tiger Transcript articles.
Thank you, Ipswich High School players, for dedicating the first play of the year, Camelot (a very good one), to Jason and dedicating a chair in the “PAC” (Performing Arts Center) with “In Memory of Jason A Foster; Remembering His Passion for Music, Arts, and Drama.”. Hanging with the tecchies was the biggest area of his social life in high school, and I would love to hear more stories about the fun things you would do together. I heard about Jason playing with a bow and arrow and accidentally shooting it into the high wall above the sound booth. The pierced wall is a memorial to your good times together.
Thank you, team captain Eli Hayward and the lacrosse team for dedicating this season’s games to Jason by wearing JF on your helmets and getting the Ipswich Chronicle to write a wonderful article about this. You recognized that something more was needed to be done by the school to honor your classmate, and you bridged the cultural gap between jocks and artists in this simple act. You made the school the team. Your team cheer “Go Jason” was more moving than I could have imagined; it captured the energy of an entire school grieving for their lost classmate, and honoring his memory in a special way.
Thank you to Zumi’s for hosting Jason’s photography show and to everyone who came out to see Jason’s art hanging in celebration of his art career at this cultural center of Ipswich, and for the wonderful comments. I wanted this to be shown right before graduation, so his classmates could be with Jason in this way. This was Jason’s graduation. I got to be the proud mother, and to sit with other art enthusiasts pointing out what they saw and felt in Jason’s art. Jason was appreciating all the comments, as he always had!
Thank you, Ipswich art department, for choosing Jason’s piece called “Three Benches” (shown attached) for the permanent senior art gallery. The plaque will show Jason’s quote “I see beauty in all things, may it be a landscape or rust on a building.” Thank you, art teachers Brian Carman and Gail Peppe for coming to Jason’s art show and inspiring him and his classmates with your art clubs. Brian, your pinhole photography and New York city tours made great impressions on Jason, and you know how much pinhole experimenting he did after that!
Thank you to the music department and Gerry Dolan for giving Jason the opportunity to learn electronic music at school. Thank you to the music groups that Jason belonged to and was inspired by – Ipswich high school percussion ensemble (with Jeff Teitz and Steve Monroe), The Pine Island Music ensemble (with E.J. Ouelette), and the jazz improv class band. I hear Jason is continuing to inspire the school musicians, and he is pleased about that! I also heard that several classmates wanted to perform Jason’s compositions and found it too hard to do (they were composed electronically, and the rhythms and pace are quite challenging) – please know how touched I was that you even thought of doing this.
Thank you, Ipswich middle school and high school and IMADA (Ipswich Music Arts and Drama Association), for creating the arts-oriented school environment that helped Jason to thrive in his passions for photography and music. We moved here 5 yrs ago to get into the right school system. Even though he did most of his art and music in his home studio, the environment and his classmates inspired him to create so much. We are still finding pieces in his archives, as if he were alive today showing us his latest works!
In gratitude,
Michelle Herrera Foster
Jason Foster’s mom
Thank you, Jason’s classmates and dear friends for keeping Jason alive in your hearts with your Facebook and other messages to him and to his parents. He is with you always.
Thank you, Class of 2010, for honoring Jason with your senior year T-shirts with “Follow Your Passion- JF” on the back. I know you hold Jason with you as you prepare for graduation. Think of Jason when you are moving forward in life, with all of its gifts and challenges, and know he is cheering you on. Always remember the Jason hug.
Thank you, classmates, friends, and teachers who came to Jason’s ceremony 4 days after he died, and sent cards, emails, and messages. It was an extremely tender time for all of us, and your presence, writings, tears, and sharings helped me tremendously in my own grieving. I was amazed at how uplifted I felt, and many others felt, at the ceremony - a tribute to how I want to remember Jason and feel his love and inspiration throughout my life.
Thank you, Evan Petto and yearbook staff and friends of Jason for writing a beautiful article about Jason soon after school started, during peak grieving time. Thank you also for sharing his poetry and photography with the school in the Tiger Transcript articles.
Thank you, Ipswich High School players, for dedicating the first play of the year, Camelot (a very good one), to Jason and dedicating a chair in the “PAC” (Performing Arts Center) with “In Memory of Jason A Foster; Remembering His Passion for Music, Arts, and Drama.”. Hanging with the tecchies was the biggest area of his social life in high school, and I would love to hear more stories about the fun things you would do together. I heard about Jason playing with a bow and arrow and accidentally shooting it into the high wall above the sound booth. The pierced wall is a memorial to your good times together.
Thank you, team captain Eli Hayward and the lacrosse team for dedicating this season’s games to Jason by wearing JF on your helmets and getting the Ipswich Chronicle to write a wonderful article about this. You recognized that something more was needed to be done by the school to honor your classmate, and you bridged the cultural gap between jocks and artists in this simple act. You made the school the team. Your team cheer “Go Jason” was more moving than I could have imagined; it captured the energy of an entire school grieving for their lost classmate, and honoring his memory in a special way.
Thank you to Zumi’s for hosting Jason’s photography show and to everyone who came out to see Jason’s art hanging in celebration of his art career at this cultural center of Ipswich, and for the wonderful comments. I wanted this to be shown right before graduation, so his classmates could be with Jason in this way. This was Jason’s graduation. I got to be the proud mother, and to sit with other art enthusiasts pointing out what they saw and felt in Jason’s art. Jason was appreciating all the comments, as he always had!
Thank you, Ipswich art department, for choosing Jason’s piece called “Three Benches” (shown attached) for the permanent senior art gallery. The plaque will show Jason’s quote “I see beauty in all things, may it be a landscape or rust on a building.” Thank you, art teachers Brian Carman and Gail Peppe for coming to Jason’s art show and inspiring him and his classmates with your art clubs. Brian, your pinhole photography and New York city tours made great impressions on Jason, and you know how much pinhole experimenting he did after that!
Thank you to the music department and Gerry Dolan for giving Jason the opportunity to learn electronic music at school. Thank you to the music groups that Jason belonged to and was inspired by – Ipswich high school percussion ensemble (with Jeff Teitz and Steve Monroe), The Pine Island Music ensemble (with E.J. Ouelette), and the jazz improv class band. I hear Jason is continuing to inspire the school musicians, and he is pleased about that! I also heard that several classmates wanted to perform Jason’s compositions and found it too hard to do (they were composed electronically, and the rhythms and pace are quite challenging) – please know how touched I was that you even thought of doing this.
Thank you, Ipswich middle school and high school and IMADA (Ipswich Music Arts and Drama Association), for creating the arts-oriented school environment that helped Jason to thrive in his passions for photography and music. We moved here 5 yrs ago to get into the right school system. Even though he did most of his art and music in his home studio, the environment and his classmates inspired him to create so much. We are still finding pieces in his archives, as if he were alive today showing us his latest works!
In gratitude,
Michelle Herrera Foster
Jason Foster’s mom
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)