Saying Yes

I was introduced to the power of yes by Shauna Ahern, a lovely lady who writes a blog (and also has a book!) called, "Gluten-Free Girl". Even if you have no issues with gluten, it's a positively yummy blog!
Shauna has the word "yes" tattooed on her arm. It's a reminder. When she began saying yes to life, life started saying yes in return. Really. It's something you want to believe, but sometimes have trouble doing. We are SO programmed to say no because we're a little afraid of where life will take us. No is control. No is two feet planted firmly on the ground. But no is boring.
Today, Shauna came to mind while I was on my way to work. I was going to cut through Pike Place Market, as is my habit on Wednesdays, past Rachel the pig, the buskers, and down the stairs. I love the Market, but that's a tale for another day.
A young guy was stationed near the buskers with a pedi-cab. "Free ride?", he asked. I had to stop and think. "Maybe on your way back?", he said hopefully.
And then I remembered Shauna and yes. What the hell...
I have never ridden in a pedi-cab before. It made me feel kind of special. He zipped me into the covered cab and off we went. Down Pike Place, left on Western and down the hill. I felt like I should wave at everyone we were passing.

He's just starting out in this business. Not a lot of work to be had this time of year, but hey, someone said yes to him. Even if I was just a local.

Thank you Shauna, for giving me the power of yes and turning an ordinary Wednesday into something special.

Face to Face With the Next Step

Before my friend Marcia was "my friend Marcia", she was the instructor/facilitator in a workshop I took. One night, she gave us all a photocopied cartoon of a dog on a staircase, his forehead butted against the oncoming stair. It's titled, "Face to face with the next step". I kept it and put it on the side of my refrigerator. While I was doing my morning pages today, it caught my eye, and I smiled.

On Sunday, for the first time, I will be selling my own stuff at a craft fair. Decoupaged switchplate covers, to be exact. I am terrified (what if no one buys anything? what if someone tells me my stuff is ugly, imperfect?), overwhelmed and excited. I am face to face with the next step.

I know, it's not rocket science...it's paper glued onto a light switch cover. But it's MY work. It took over two years just to get this far, to find something I thought I could do, to shut down the nasty little inner censor that tells me I'm foolish, untalented and just plain stupid for even thinking I could be an artist. My head was butted up against that step for so long, it hurt to think. And I know it's not finished. I know I'll wrestle with it every day that I choose to make creativity my life.

My goal for the future is to create shrines and altars and combine it with my Celebrancy practice, focusing particularly on individuals who have been seriously ill and are making a transition back to "normalcy". I would also like to work with those men and women who know they are facing the last journey of this life, and would like to do it in a way that makes them happy. Everyone deserves that much.
For the nonce, however, I'm face to face with the next step, and ready to climb. Keep your fingers crossed!

A Return From the Pit of Despair

Depression is funny...and I don't mean humorous, though it can be. Depression makes you abandon your interests, your values, the people that love you.
You sit at the bottom of a pit, just you and the dark. Sometimes a little light peeks in, and you see just how sad you are. The phone rings, and you don't answer. You don't want to...you just want to sit with your gloomy friend, who doesn't want to share you.
This has been my existence for the past year plus. It hasn't been that way ALL the time, but a lot of it. I've done stupid things in the name of depression. I've gotten most of the way out of the pit, only to fall back in.
I don't mean to be a downer, but this is the explanation for not keeping up on my blog.
Now, I've decided to make a return. I have tools to help me, and people to take my hand, if I just ask. That's hard for me to do. I've done damage to relationships and often don't feel I have the right to ask for anything.

However, this week has shown me that life is still worth celebrating. We have a new president, and even as bad as things are, I can tell people are hopeful. There are smiles from strangers on the street. The gallows humor is dissipating.
It's not going to be easy, not the economy, not the depression. We will stand on the edge and wonder if we should just let gravity pull us back into the pit. It feels so much easier, so comfortable to be with our gloomy friend.

Fight it. It will be worth it. I promise.

When I got up this morning, my cell phone had messages. My father died this morning.
Kenny was diagnosed with stage 3 lung cancer in January. He was a smoker, so that didn't come as a surprise. He had chemotherapy and radiation treatments, and was doing well for awhile.
Maybe not as well as everyone thought, because he was just that kind of person.
He developed pneumonia in October and I was asked to fly to WI and see him. I thought that might be the end of his journey then, but he came through it. He was almost back to his old self when we left.
He had recently moved to a rehab facility to gain some strength. I don't know everything that transpired, but it's okay. The fact is, he has some measure of peace now, hopefully as consiousness or spirit. I leave room for doubt, but even in that I know at least he's not in pain.
That's a major source of gratitude for me.

Happy Veterans Day

To so many of us, Veterans Day is a day off of work, if we're lucky, or a sale.
It seems like we could do better. We are supposed to be honoring people who have said, "Yes, I believe in this cause, and I will fight so that you can retain your liberty." That includes the civil liberties, by the way.
I don't think a lot of us understand what is involved in fighting a war. It's not a John Wayne film, it's not a video game. People die in the most awful ways possible. Others are damaged: physically, emotionally.

I'm no fan of war, but in some cases, it's unavoidable. That's a sad fact of humanity, and I wish it weren't so. We can dream of and work towards a day when we will fight no more, but I don't think it's coming any time soon.
In the meantime, though, we have veterans. People who are/were willing to fight and die so that we can enjoy our lives. In World War II, people made sacrifices for their soldiers. It's rare in this "war" that most of us even know someone in the military, let alone sacrifice for them.
So, if we're not going to sacrifice for them, the least we can do is thank them. And if you don't know anyone who is currently enlisted, find an older vet and thank them. Your grandfather, or a neighbor, or even a homeless person with a sign saying "I'm a vet." Make a small ceremony of it. Look them in the eye. Take their hand. Maybe buy them a cup of coffee. It can be meaningful, even in that small way.
Better still, check the local paper and see who is having a service to honor veterans tomorrow. These ceremonies have become very sparsely attended, and it would convey a lot to those present to see the public there. In their heart and your own, you will have made a difference.

Welcome, all!

My name is Kendyl and I'm a certified celebrant. You don't know what that is? A celebrant creates and conducts meaningful life ceremonies for people who want them. It could be a living memorial service for someone with cancer, a gay wedding, or a coming of age ceremony for elders. We are only limited by our imaginations, and maybe gravity.
I live in Seattle and am open to traveling the Northwest to help you with your ceremony. If you are located elsewhere, I am happy to put you in touch with my organization, the Celebrant USA Foundation, who will gladly help you find a fellow celebrant in your area.
My intention for this blog is that it be a record of work I have done, celebrations I have witnessed or participated in and some stories about me, so you, the reader, understand how I came to this path.
Feedback is encouraged; so are your suggestions. This is going to be a great journey!