Guest Post: What We Put In The Ground

Today’s post is excerpted from a recent email I received from my friend E, a fantastic writer and a fantastic person. It was inspired in part by a recent entry here. While I am like a puppy faced with a truckload of bones when it comes to praise (more please, no, really, more), I am posting this with her permission mainly because I find it so touching and beautifully written. Identifying and other details have been removed. Thank you, E.

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Yesterday while stretching after a particularly strenuous run I realized that my neck, which had not been troubling me during the run, was totally aching. It came when I tried to lower my head to the ground, bending forwards, to place my hands there and ease open the muscles in the backs of my legs.

The fact is that earlier this year, I learned that the bones in my neck were not stacking up in the way that they should. Like some kind of nearly-toppling tower, they were too unsteady to do their job. To help, my neck muscles were in a state of spasm, trying to keep things upright. Good intentions, bad results. So when the pain started while I was bending over, I at least knew what it was: my neck muscles, trying, as usual, to keep my head on.

When I first got the diagnosis, I called my husband. “I can’t hold my head up,” I said. “You couldn’t invent a better condition for me at this moment.” His mother died a year ago while we sat beside her in the house that she raised him in, the house that we now live in. We lost her at the end of a period during which we watched and heard lung cancer make its way up to her neck. For the entirety of her illness and the period that followed, when I watched my husband’s heart break, I did not feel I could hold my head up at all.

Yesterday, when I tried to lower myself towards the floor of this room, in this apartment where a woman I loved very much raised two children that I love very much, one of whom I married, I realized that my neck was working too hard, working against me as I tried to place my hands on the ground.

I thought of the entry you had done about this, about why we place our hands on the ground and what it means. I thought that it is terribly important how we get to the ground. I was bending over but my neck was craning out, like a not very intelligent ostrich. I could not let it hang.

I stood up again, and did the kind of thing that I have a body memory of from being in first grade, kindergarten, having kind teachers and a rubbery little self. I rolled my spine one vertebrae at a time down and when my head wanted to turtle its way out I thought no, just let it go.

When I got to place my hands on the ground, all of me was there. My head had come along for the ride, too. I was alone in the house that we’d been fighting to bring back to life after this impossible year, and had my hands on the ground giving something back. It was quite beautiful and it was a moment that you helped to create with your writing, which was with me as I leaned over and let go.

The Email I Sent This Morning

to everyone I know. This signifies my official coming out as a God-is-Love-la-la-la-hippie to some people in my life -- I'm sure they suspected anyhow. What's written below applies to you all, too. I'm getting on the bullhorn and asking for requests.

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Hey Folks,

As you may know, I started a blog back in August 2007, called Are You There God, It's Me, Blogging (http://areyoutheregoditsmeblogging.blogspot.com/). And yes, I do have plans to get in touch with Judy Blume. You can get a good idea of what it's about from the opening entry: http://areyoutheregoditsmeblogging.blogspot.com/2007/08/question-1-universe-please-help-me.html .

The basic idea is that every day (that's in Jen time, so it's more like every so often) I ask the Universe for something, and blog the results. It's been a really interesting tool for getting me to write every day, and to consider those pesky little questions like The Meaning of Life.

I'm writing you now because frankly, I need material, and I'm also very interested in having this blog go beyond me and whether I need need the line at the bank to be short on a given day. I'd like you, or your friends, or your friends of friends, and eventually total strangers, to write in their requests for me to query the Universe on their behalf. I will repost this email as today's entry, and requests can be made to the comments section.

I don't believe I have any kind of super powers. I do have some hippie leanings toward the power of collective thought and prayer. At minimum, it will be interesting to see what happens, which is what this blog has been about from the beginning.

Thanks for your help!

Love,

Jen

Today is Some Day

I woke up with the clear thought in my head that "Today is the day." For what, I don't know. Possibly for my state's governor to step down admidst a sex ring scandal.

I have to say this doesn't surprise me all that much. I'm a Democrat but couldn't bring myself to vote for him. He has a holier-than-thou, Elliot Ness, I'm the good guy and you are the bad guys approach. I've always thought that's just the personality type of the Attorney General, the position formerly held by Spitzer and Guliani, who had the same outlook before becoming America's Mayor. People so hot to damn others, people that mighty, tend to fall.

If you've been waiting for a day to change, to do better, to accept the truth, to go get a donut, go do it today. Today is the day.

What We Want

I'm exhausted and yet I can seemingly keep going. That's all the miracle I need for today.

I've been thinking about what I've been asking for here, and what others have been asking for. This blog was born out of strange twins of grief and hope, a plain human need to will the buds open when everything is bone cold and withered.

Looking at this blog so far as the most informal of surveys, I'd say we need to know the sick can get well, the odds can be overcome, the dead still love us even if we can never again slip our hand into theirs, unthinkingly, as we take their presence for granted. We need to know we can survive our personal horrors, and that the world can survive all the horrors that people visit on eachother. We need to know that what seems impossible, on any given day, can happen, from our own effort and from powers beyond us, because we are deserving and somehow loved. We need to know that when we ask for help, the universe is listening and the universe will grant it.

With all our electric light, we're still this little group of people in the darkness praying that the sun will come up over the hill again, that we'll get through the winter, that the crops will come in.

I don't know what it means that we live in a relatively physically stable society with our souls still fighting for survival this way. I also don't know, at this moment, if this is all just me.

Call and Response

I haven't posted for a few days because I felt like I'd run out of hope in my personal life, and it's difficult to write here when I'm not in a whoo, lookee, swirling stars of love, kind of frame of mind.



Then J from ArtConstellation, the aforementioned 'J' in the J&S story, wrote to let me know that two hours after I posted their story, S received a call for a job interview, his first since graduating from grad school (I think). Shortly after, he got the job, which means they can get an apartment together, an important step toward her going back to Italy. I am beyond thrilled for them and wish them nothing but happiness. I am also thankful to J for letting me know, because my amputated hope got some much needed surgery and is now going through physical therapy and rehab.



I don't begin to believe I have superpowers. I am beginning to believe, as Steve told me recently, that literally anything is possible. And I wholeheartedly believe a whole group of us having hope, wanting good, wanting love to prevail, begins to push things in that direction. So thanks to all of you reading.



J asked me to ask the universe for a miracle for Lora -- you can read her story here. Universe, please help Lora to survive and become well. Her story has already affected many people and she is a positive, loving person.



As long as I'm at it, Universe, we've had a whole bunch of conversations about my friend Ruby, who is also fighting cancer like a saber tooth tiger, so let's just say thank you for helping her stay alive and survive this long, and keep up the good work.



Last, my friend Athena called me last week and asked that I pray for a family in her town who had been in a terrible car accident. I am remiss in not putting this here for her sooner, and saddened to hear that some of the family did not survive. Athena, I love you, and I ask the Universe to protect, heal, and take care of the Howdens.



One of the highlights of my week last week was listening to Athena's two-year-old daughter play harmonica over the phone and then hold it up to phone for me to play it, an ocean away. This week I reconnected with an old friend, took care of my health, resolved some family issues, ran back and forth across a football field with my son. When I look at those moments, it seems there is little more I could ever need. And looking over this post, I see that all we really need is to still be breathing and anything after that continues to be possible.

Because at the end of the day I am a big hippie who really does believe in the power of love

For brave, brilliant and strong J, who I've come to know through the brave, brilliant and strong Jessieh. (Neither of them would probably describe themselves that way, so I'll do it for them, in honor of the people out there describing me that way when I feel like I cannot pick up my foot to take one more step.)

Universe, this one is for J and S, two people I really don't know at all, but who seem to be fighting a giant raging ocean just to hold eachother's hands. You know, Universe, how hard J is fighting in general. When two people can love and support eachother, every thing beneath their feet that lay fallow can bloom. It can be so much easier to take the first steps of loving yourself when you see the love another has for you.

So Universe, dude, come on. They have nothing left to prove. Let's pick up the world like it was just a paper map sitting on my dining room table, and touch the East Coast of the United States to Rome in a kiss. Let those two points stay connected, forever. Let them find a way for J to stay in Italy for good, and let the good times finally finally finally start to roll.

Don't Mess With Mr. Strut

While I am back -- and better than ever -- and have lots to write about after my impromptu vacation from this blog and thinking about anything of any worth, well, I'm not going to today. And that's because I'm too delighted by this AP story that came out this morning and the fact that one of the Universe's main priorities is Mick Jagger. I also like that the Hell's Angels are open to signs from the heavens, or at least from the ocean.

From the AP:

BBC: Hell's Angels Sought to Kill Jagger
('LONDON (AP) -- Rolling Stones singer Mick Jagger escaped an assassination plot hatched in 1969 by the Hells Angels, a new British Broadcasting Corp. documentary has claimed. By THE ASSOCIATED PRESS
Published: March 3, 2008
Filed at 7:36 a.m. ET

LONDON (AP) -- Rolling Stones singer Mick Jagger escaped an assassination plot hatched in 1969 by the Hells Angels, a new British Broadcasting Corp. documentary has claimed.
A program to be broadcast on BBC Radio 4 on Monday says the rock star was the target of the plot following a purported dispute with the motorcycle gang over concert security.

Jagger had vowed not to use Hells Angel members as bouncers following the death in December 1969 of an 18-year-old fan at a notorious free performance at Altamont Speedway in Northern California.

In return, gang members hatched a plan to kill Jagger at his holiday home in Long Island, New York, the BBC claimed.

''The Hells Angels were so angered by Jagger's treatment of them that they decided to kill him,'' Tom Mangold, the presenter of the program, was quoted as telling Britain's Sunday Telegraph newspaper.

He said the plan was disclosed during an interview with Mark Young, a former FBI officer, for the BBC's ''The FBI at 100'' documentary.

Mangold said the men tried to reach Jagger by sea. ''The boat was hit by a storm and all of the men were thrown overboard,'' he was quoted as saying. They all survived but made no other attempt on his life, Mangold said.

It was not clear whether Jagger was ever informed of the alleged plot against him.
LD Communications, Jagger's publicists in Britain, did not immediately return calls requesting comment.

The Hells Angels have always denied any connection with the Altamont Speedway killing.