Living and Loving

I know it has been a long time since my last post, but I’ve been abiding by the direct orders of my eastern and western medical practitioners. My oncologist, acupuncturist, life coach, and even family practitioner has each in their own right ordered me to “live.” 

After granting me a clean bill of health, I can’t help but ask, “What now?” 

They have each in their own time and turn responded with the same directive, “Live!” 

Simple. 

One word. 

Yet, so complex. 

When unpacked, intricacies emerge. What does it mean? How does one forget the trauma of the past? How does one live? Why is there not a manual for this when there's a manual for everything else? 

It has taken me over a year to realize that there is no one answer and there is no one way. It is a journey, unique and different for each person. 

My healing journey started this last summer. While in Scotland, my BCF (which is how she likes to refer to herself, otherwise known as, my Bad Choice Friend) Liza Baker presented me with the book,  Life in Life: Live Longer, Strengthen Your Relationships, and Create a Healthier Life by Dr. Laurie Ann Levin. I held the book, caressing the hard cover, unsure of what to do with it. I thanked her and carried it back to the states shortly after my father-law’s passing.

I woke one night, trembling, questioning how to support my boy’s through Grandpa’s death and found myself drawn to the book. It is comprised of wisdom and meditation exercises. It guides one through an exploration of values, thoughts, and ideas. It starts broad and narrows, forcing one to reevaluate the codes that determine one’s existence. I carried the book with me across the ocean, placed it beside my bed and read of it when I felt my fears and doubts resurfacing. Sometimes, I read it daily for a week or so, other times I needed small doses, an exercise a week. 

For months, I practiced emptying my mind. I sought answers that would guide me through the fear and into the orders I’d been given, to “live.” I searched for answers within me, using the book as the guide.

It wasn’t until the Los Angeles teacher protests of January when I straddled both life and fear and tried to make sense of the world. Days before the strike, I allowed my insecurities to surface. Would I physically be able to stand alongside my fellow educators? What toll would doing so have on me? I wrote down all my concerns and shared it in a long e-mail, with my Union representative, which was the best thing I could have done!

Once a fear is verbalized, it loses steam. Once named, it lacks the ability to harm. 

I stood on the streets of Los Angeles, alongside fellow colleagues while rain hammered down upon thousands of us. The beating of drums and the chorus of fury rang out through the streets where more learning occurred outside of the school those few days than inside. I Here's more information on this topic if you would like to dig deeper.  I fought because our children deserve better odds.

chanted, sang out, and fought for equity. I fought because I know for a fact that in California we spend six times more on every inmate than each student.

What pulsated through my body was “life,” the passion of the masses, the collective of thousands. I lost myself in a greater cause and realized then that to live, I could not let fear steer the vehicle. 

I faced off with fear again last week. Liza Baker, (the lady who shares half my soul but resides in Michigan-so my eldest refers to her as), asked me to meet her in Joshua Tree National Park. 

For a week, fear reared its head again, “You can’t do this! You have responsibilities in Los Angeles, two boys and a husband to take care of.  What are you thinking? You’re going to crash, die! How selfish can you be?” 

Pause!

Why are we our worst enemies? Why do we limit ourselves? Why do we allow our doubts and insecurities power over us? A few years ago, I would have given in and allowed insecurities to shape outcome. But healing has led to awareness which in turn has allowed for new possibilities. 

After dropping my children off at school last week, I found myself addressing my fears as though they sat in the passenger’s seat beside me. What did I tell them? Quite simply I said, “You can join me for this ride, but you will not control the outcome of this endeavor. You can watch from the passenger seat, but I will drive this car!” 

I spoke to it aloud and it stopped controlling me! 

The trip was short, less than 36 hours. I met Liza and her son in the Joshua Tree Visitor’s Parking lot, hundreds of miles from where she had first ordered me to “Live” and thousands of miles from where she had given me the tools I needed to do so. We clambered into my car and drove into the desert, surrounded by thousands of unique trees.  

We pulled off when something caught our eyes. I don’t know why I turned down the road I did, but less than a hundred feet down the path the trailhead for “Ryan’s Mountain Hike” caught my attention. I gasped. 

Twenty years earlier, my hubby and I had spent the day hiking said mountain, exhilarated by the novelty, the fresh air, the scampering bunnies, and scurrying lizards. And on our descent, 50 feet from where his old beat up Nissan Sentra was parked, which had somehow managed to make the trek to Joshua Tree even though it was held together by crazy glue, I slipped and fell on my behind. He rushed to my side and had gallantly helped me up. I had known then, without a doubt that our paths would be forever intertwined. 

He was not on this journey though. He was back in Los Angeles teaching, worried and

probably checking the GPS on my phone to make sure I had reached my destination every fifteen minutes, getting upset when the GPS glitched since Joshua Tree National Park has spotty cellular reception or so we discovered.  Liza, her son, and I started along the path without him this time. Birds chirped around us. The sun beat down upon us. Lizards scampered underfoot as our fifteen-year-old guide dove for them fervently. Unlike the days of past, I did not slip or fall. I did not need any rescuing. Instead, I had realizations unfolded before me as though life and God spoke straight into my soul.

What did they say? 

That’s irrelevant. 

My insights are mine, and yours will be yours. The important thing here is to live without letting fears drive the vehicle. Allowing the awareness of fears to guide the manner in which one deals with them and moves forward. 

Next time fear comes knocking, which I'm s sure it will, I know exactly how I will respond! I will sit it down in the passenger seat and move forward in spite of it. I will live and love each moment thoroughly, sharing of my light and rejoicing in each moment. Till next time, I hope you will do the same in spite of your insecurities. 

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Feel free to e-mail me directly at: marineyanikiansutton@gmail.com 

Life is short, do reach out!

I look forward to hearing from you.