Gaggling on...

photo by grassrootsmsw

“The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another's desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together.”

Erma Bombeck

After a week of visits from special family members, I am a mix of bittersweet emotions...
I feel so fortunate to be part of a family that remains connected despite distance of continents...we can always start where we left off; we laugh and retell stories we have heard many times over; we accept and embrace one another, even knowing the worst, and we know how to care for one another without words. It is this deep connection that always makes the 'goodbyes' that much harder...a quiet sense of loss, a full heart of gratitude, and a hopeful anticipation for their next visit.

-grassrootsmsw-

Free thinkers...

photo by E.F de Jonge
Seppel
NL, 1963

“To be playful is not to be trivial or frivolous, or to act as though nothing of consequence will happen. On the contrary, when we are playful with each other we relate as free persons, and the relationship is open to surprise; everything that happens is of consequence. It is, in fact, seriousness that closes itself to consequence, for seriousness is a dread of the unpredictable outcome of open possibility. To be serious is to press for a specified conclusion. To be playful is to allow for possibility whatever the cost to oneself.”

James Carse

Play with a full heart,
Love with integrity and truth,
Laugh deep belly laughs.

Hold onto your truths' and
own them,
but try to let the lightness in...
the balance we all need.

Let the freedom of that choice in!

Cheers!

-grassrootsmsw-

Time Outs'...

photo by grassrootsmsw
Kanchanaburi, Thailand

"When we are tired, we are attacked by ideas we conquered long ago."

Friedrich Nietzsche

Being a pioneer in a rigid and static system constantly requires energy, endurance, and an unswerving commitment to change.

Despite a dedicated belief and internal honor system, the uphill battle often induces feelings of exhaustion...a need for a 'time out' and a heavy exhaled yawn.

Yawn, roll over, hibernate, rest. Regenerate.

The goals and purposes remain, but can only be addressed when we have stopped to breathe, rejuvenate, and reassemble the game plan.

Yawn and rest...yawn and rest...

There is still climbing to be done and aspirations to be reached.

-grassrootsmsw-

The slippery slope...

photo by J.A.S.

"Let go of your attachment to being right, and suddenly your mind is more open. You're able to benefit from the unique viewpoints of others, without being crippled by your own judgment."

Ralph Marston

Without Rules or Regulation(s)...

photo by grassrootsmsw
Seattle, WA

"The outside world pressures you into a mold,
and if you don't accept that - you gamble with life.

Call it gambling...

You know when I decided to become professional -
that means to expose yourself naked to the world
with other creative minds...

I said, "I'm going into areas I don't know.
I might just fall right down to hell and kill myself."

Then I said, "Well, who cares?
I'd rather do it and see what it's all about."

I don't want the safe way...

The safe way limits you."


Louise Nevelson

Maybe we should all see and color outside and beyond the lines...

Maybe it is the only way to learn and create;

opening the beautiful and authentic spaces...

-grassrootsmsw-

Celebrating April 27th

photo by grassrootsmsw
July 2007

"The most beautiful discovery true friends make is that they can grow separately without growing apart."

Elizabeth Foley

Happy Birthday dearest Trishie!

The dutch girls' and the menagerie miss you and send love, hugs, and wet canine licks!!!

OPEN....

photo by grassrootsmsw
Amsterdam, NL

“One change,

always leaves the door open

for the establishment of others…”

-Niccolo Machiavelli-

Unfurling...

photo by grassrootsmsw

“The greatest stories are those that resonate our beginnings and intuit our endings, our mysterious origins and our numinous destinies, and dissolve them both into one.”

Ben Okri

Allow for the unfurling...
no planning or mapping.
Just, pure, organic,
blending...
of all that is, was and
may be...

-grassrootsmsw-

Story Keepers

painting by S.G.
4-16-08

“Their story, yours and mine –

it’s what we all carry with us on this trip we take,

and we owe it to each other to respect our stories

and learn from them.”

William Carlos Williams

I have been a professional social worker for 17 years. Sometimes I have received praise and at other times I have been given constructive criticism. While I remain open to feedback and insight, my goal and purpose in this work has been to try the best I can to make a positive difference...a difference for others'...completely removed from self need or interest. I do this work because I was raised to see and believe that this is just the right thing to do...to give back, for no other reason than to give back.

The greatest compliment I have ever received over all these years came yesterday, from a respected colleague, at a staff retreat..."You are the keeper of stories. Thank you."

If I never did another day of social work, I would hold this comment as the highest compliment and feel that I had accomplished the deepest truth of what social work is. The greatest honor in the world is when someone offers to even share a glimpse of their narrative. With gratitude I try to hold each and every story, attempting and yearning to see the beauty, integrity and value behind the story tellers' STORY.

May I always be granted the privilege of hearing, learning, and holding the stories...

-grassrootsmsw-

A City Unto Itself...

photo by grassrootsmsw
NYC, 76th Street Deli
"Eddie and Madison"
1993

“You come to New York to find the ambiance that will evoke your best. You do not necessarily know precisely what that might be, but you come to New York to discover it.”

Dr. James Hillman

The corner delis/bodegas in NYC are their own institutions with dynamics I have never seen or experienced before. Mohammed, Eddie, Manu, and Jimmie were my corner deli men. Not only did they know my morning coffee needs' (light, no sugar), every morning, they also remembered to include bacon or a bagel for my faithful dog Madison...each and every day.

The above photo is Halloween in 1993. All the dog owners' in the neighborhood "dressed" their dogs in costume. Being originally from California, Madison was dressed as a hippy/'Dead head.' The back of his t-shirt said: "Peace, Love and Hemp."

Madison's reward for best costume...extra bacon from his beloved deli man, Eddie.
My reward: Discovering the fortune and fate that brought me to NYC and leaving with me, forever, appreciation for this city of paradox and truth...all in one...

-grassrootsmsw-

Every day...

photo by grassrootsmsw
Thailand

“I don’t believe in greatness, I believe in everyday decency,

in humility and gratitude.”

Shmuley Boteach

"The Wall"

photo by grassrootsmsw
Roger Waters Concert
The Berlin Wall, 1990

“Greater than scene is situation. Greater than situation is implication. Greater than all of these is a single, entire human being, who will never be confined in any frame.”

Eudora Welty

The Rose

photo by grassrootsmsw
Holly's garden

"I am a fox," said the fox.

"Come and play with me," proposed the little prince. "I am so unhappy."

"I cannot play with you," the fox said. "I am not tamed."

"Ah! Please excuse me," said the little prince. But, after some thought, he added: "What does that mean, 'tame'?"

"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. It means to establish ties."

"'To establish ties'?"

"Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world..."

"I am beginning to understand," said the little prince. "There is a flower... I think that she has tamed me..."

"Nothing is perfect," sighed the fox. But he came back to his idea. "My life is very monotonous," the fox said. "I hunt chickens; men hunt me. All the chickens are just alike, and all the men are just alike. And, in consequence, I am a little bored. But if you tame me, it will be as if the sun came to shine on my life . I shall know the sound of a step that will be different from all the others. Other steps send me hurrying back underneath the ground. Yours will call me, like music, out of my burrow. And then look: you see the grain-fields down yonder? I do not eat bread. Wheat is of no use to me. The wheat fields have nothing to say to me. And that is sad. But you have hair that is the colour of gold. Think how wonderful that will be when you have tamed me! The grain, which is also golden, will bring me back the thought of you. And I shall love to listen to the wind in the wheat..."

The fox gazed at the little prince, for a long time. "Please, tame me!" he said.

"I want to, very much," the little prince replied. "But I have not much time. I have friends to discover, and a great many things to understand."

"One only understands the things that one tames," said the fox. "Men have no more time to understand anything. They buy things all ready made at the shops. But there is no shop anywhere where one can buy friendship, and so men have no friends any more. If you want a friend, tame me..."

So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near... "Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."

"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you..."

"Yes, that is so," said the fox.

"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.

"Yes, that is so," said the fox.

"Then it has done you no good at all," said The Prince.

"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields." And then he added: "Go and look again at the roses. You will understand now that yours is unique in all the world. Then come back to say goodbye to me, and I will make you a present of a secret." ...

"Goodbye," said the fox. "And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."

"What is essential is invisible to the eye," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.

"It is the time you have wasted for your rose that makes your rose so important."

"It is the time I have wasted for my rose..." said the little prince, so that he would be sure to remember.

"Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox. "But you must not forget it. You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed. You are responsible for your rose..."

"I am responsible for my rose," the little prince repeated, so that he would be sure to remember.

The Little Prince - Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

It takes time to build trust and establish ties with another.
It requires consistency, fairness, equal treatment, and reciprocity.

The personal relationship is one that often must be integrated with the professional one...
hearts and minds coming together.

True personal bonds require the understanding of individual differences.
There is significant importance in being responsible to that gifted trust.
The bond is precious and fragile...
asking each to accept their responsibility for their part of the relationship.

-grassrootsmsw-

The Safety Clutch...

photo by grassrootsmsw
Thailand

“Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers,

but to be fearless in facing them.
Let me not beg for the stilling of my pain,

but for the heart to conquer it.
Let me not crave in anxious fear to be saved,

but hope for the patience to win my freedom.
Grant that I may not be a coward,
but let me find the grasp of your hand in my failure.”

-Ibid-

Merging...

photo by grassrootsmsw
Thailand

“....All the things and events we usually consider as irreconcilable, such as cause and effect, past and future, subject and object, are actually just like the crest and trough of a single wave, a single vibration. For a wave, although itself a single event, only expresses itself through the opposites of crest and trough, high point and low point. For that very reason, the reality is not found in the crest nor the trough alone, but in their unity...”

Ken Wilber

The 'Grace' of March 18th

photo by grassrootsmsw
Brentwood, CA 1991

PINK...Not just any kind of pink, but the soft tender pink of a powdery rose. “It must be just the right shade,” Oma said. I always tried to wear some form of the “right shade” when I would visit her…if only, to see the smile and appreciation on her face.

The hot pink perfume box, saved from a trip to Paris in the 40’s, sat on her vanity bureau; just as it had, as far back as I can remember. “Shocking,” by Sciaparelli was written in gold across the box. She never failed to re-tell me that this was her favorite perfume…a perfume that was discontinued and no longer made. “It smelled of the perfect pink,” she said. I watched her eyes, dreamily reminisce, and go back to an exciting and youthful time in her life…there were untold and never to be spoken secrets and mysteries there.

My sister and I were her only grandchildren. “My girl angels,” she said, smiling and proud. We were the daughters she never had; the daughters’ she had always imagined to swathe and enfold in that “perfect pink.”

From young ages, Oma spoiled my sister and I with the most wonderful shopping sprees. While she usually picked out clothing for us, there was one occasion where my sister, at the age of 5, got the upper hand. It was a Saturday, at the Brentwood Country Mart, in the children’s clothing store, “Jack and Jill.” While my grandmother was preoccupied with the new dress I was trying on, my sister had begun her own scavenge of the store, finding and putting on the most outlandish and ostentatious dress and hat. “This is what I want, Oma,” she said, standing with her feet spread apart and hands on her hips. Poor Oma never knew what would hit her as she peeled into curls of laughter, tears coming from her eyes as she said, “My God, you look like little orphan Annie.” My sister did not find her outfit humorous at all and immediately burst into tears. “I want this outfit, I am NOT taking it off,” my sister shouted between sobs. Oma tried to control her giggling, but the more defiant my sister became, the more Oma laughed. Mind you, it became funnier as the lace surrounding the floppy sunflower hat, continued to flop in my sister’s face. Between laughter and tears, the owners of the dress shop suggested that Oma take my sister for a walk to calm her (even though my sister was NOT in any way going to disrobe from her chosen dress and hat). Oma, realizing that my sister was determined, took her on her lap and said, “Do you really want this dress and hat?” Through weepy 5 year old eyes, my sister looked intensely at Oma and said in the most sincere voice, “Oma, this is the dress I have wanted my whole entire life.” Needless to say, my sister left the dress shop in that very dress and hat, leaving Oma with a story she would tell for years to come.

Being 5 years older than my sister, I had the gift of Oma’s full unadulterated attention before my sister’s arrival. Oma always made me feel special and important when she would take me for breakfast or lunch to places of my choice. One morning, right before my sister was born, Oma took me for breakfast at the “Friar’s;” a favorite place for home made cinnamon buns. Oma made me feel more adult as she asked me detailed questions about myself and school. As we sat, enjoying our cinnamon buns and chatting, an older gentleman came to our table and said, “How lovely to see a mother and daughter enjoying a breakfast out together.” We both smiled and said, “Thank you.” As the man moved away from our table I said to Oma, “He thought you were my mom!” Oma smiled with a glowing blush. As we left the restaurant I suggested to Oma, “Let’s skip to the car!” Without hesitation she took my hand and we skipped the half a block to her car. I remember looking up at Oma and seeing the happy smile on her face. Then, I stopped and looked at Oma’s hands. “You know, Oma,” I said, “If that man had seen your worried hands he would have known you were my Oma and not my mom.” Leave it to a child to innocently deflate someone’s balloon. Years later Oma would re-tell this story, saying, “Here I was feeling so young after that man’s comment in the restaurant, and then Tianna asked me to skip to the car…I felt so youthful and complimented…then she told me about my ‘worried hands.’”

My sister and I always went to Oma’s home, knowing her welcoming arms would hold and love us. The familiar scents of her home, provided us with a sense of safety and consistency. Nothing ever changed in her home, and it was something we counted on. The player piano in her living room never tired of the same music reels we would play over and over. The front yard, with the large birch tree, awaited our regular picnics held in its’ shade. The room with the canopy bed was always ready for our sleep overs… made with the softest sheets and perfect goose down pillows. The rocker in the room is where Oma would sit and read our bed time stories to us as we dozed off to sleep.

Many visits to Oma were spent playing Yahtzee, Old Maid, and Clue in her den… Cashews and Coca-Cola supplied from the wet bar called “The Red Lyon.” The curved oak bar had been built as a replica from a pub in England which my grandfather had favored.

Another much loved past time was when Oma would let us play dress up in her never ending closet of clothing. My sister and I could spend hours pretending to be princesses and queens as we donned many of her different gowns and high heels. Oma would pretend she didn’t see us eating the green milk bone dog biscuits behind the wing back chairs in her den, while dressed in one of her old ball gowns. Oma let us get away with a lot and created beautiful spaces for our imaginations to blossom and flourish.

March 18^th is Oma’s birthday and despite her ‘earthly’ absence to us since 2004, she is forever present in our hearts,’ and unconsciously, who she was to us, resonates and ricochets in how we lead our lives. Shocking pink…shocking pink…

With love from afar, yet so very near and always, cherished.

-grassrootsmsw-

Allowing emergence...

photo by grassrootsmsw
Kaeng Krachan national Park
Thailand

“Faith is not simply a patience that passively suffers until the storm is past. Rather, it is a spirit that bears things-with resignations, yes, but above all, with blazing serene hope.”

Corazon Aquino

Voyaging...

photo by grassrootsmsw
Kaeng Krachan National Park
Thailand

“To listen is to continually give up all expectation and to give our attention, completely and freshly, to what is before us, not really knowing what we will hear or what that will mean. In the practice of our days, to listen is to lean in, softly, with a willingness to be changed by what we hear.”

Mark Nepo

...Or, to be changed and open to all that is unexpected, unknown, or beyond our familiar
"comfort zone."

-grassrootsmsw-

Montage...

photo by grassrootsmsw
The Grand Palace
Bangkok, Thailand

“We become not a melting pot but a beautiful mosaic. Different people, different beliefs, different yearnings, different hopes, different dreams.”

Jimmy Carter

ETHOS...

photo by grassrootsmsw
Akhu Hill Tribe Women
Thailand

"Diversity…is not casual liberal tolerance of anything not yourself. It is not polite accommodation. Instead, diversity is, in action, the sometimes painful awareness that other people, other races, other voices, other habits of mind have as much integrity of being, as much claim on the world as you do… And I urge you, amid all the differences present to the eye and mind, to reach out to create the bond that…will protect us all. We are all meant to be here together."

William M. Chase

There is splendor, magnificence, and purpose that exists far beyond my wonderment. The cultivation and timeless nurturing of values, customs, mores, and traditions instills awe; and reawakens the possibility of truth and authenticity. It triggers and asks for one's most primitive and elemental instincts and nature to arrive. It opens and expands our viewpoints...the sincerity and acceptance to this reality presents a value that is irreplaceable.

-grassrootsmsw-