Monday, December 24, 2007
Ho Ho Ho-me For the Holidays?
Ho Ho Ho!
Merry Christmas/Happy Hanukkah/Jolly Festivus/Dandy Diwali/Groovy Eid and all that jazz! Wishes for a holiday with the love of family, extra fatty foods heartily enjoyed, and a few days of delicious sloth.
Here's a couple of pics of me at work--proof that I am working today, tomorrow and New Year's Eve, New Year's Day--something I have never done in a 25 year work history. At first it seemed odd to be working these days that I used to hold in such high reverence. Actually, I still hold them as such, as they symbolize for me, the best of family. But since family is in CT this year and I am here, I figured, why not work? The world keeps turning, and hotels never sleep. Ironic, huh? Kinda fun being cheerful and giving good customer service--those that it doesn't make suspicious really enjoy it. After work, my great friend Lynell and her hubby Ian have invited me (and Fugee!) to their home for a Slavic Christmas Eve dinner--looking forward to it. Friends are family, too.
Some of the sweetest memories I hold are of our Hermes' Christmases--Mom in constant song since Thanksgiving, decorating every ledge in our house with family treasures, many having seen better days maybe 50 years earlier, stuffing our faces with spritz camels and wreaths, chocolate logs with holly leaves, pecan balls, peppermint fondant that had the quality of candy cane Play Doh, homemade advent cards, an advent wreath with della robia fruit made the day President Kennedy was assassinated, precious styrofoam Aunt Dottie elves looking like they had been in a horrible ten sleigh pile up--missing limbs, eyes, feet, heads--but still magic.
So many memories, fun to recall. Flaming plum pudding that rarely lit the first time, served with a chorus of Deck the Halls, Oyster Stew, boring slide shows of the Holy Land narrated by our two hundred year old neighbor Edgar Brown, great conversations between the generations. Gay, Paul, Dickie, Jim, Grammie, Grampa, Mom and Dad. Scott & I getting to open one present Christmas Eve. Snoopy & Scamper with their Christmas bows. Hopmeadow Street was Christmas. Memories wrapped in a golden cast of nostalgia, many of the traditions non-repeatable, making them even more special.
So that is a lot of what Christmas was, but the Christmas is is just as beautiful, just different. I hope you have a chance to think back today to some of your special memories, your history a Christmas Present.
What do I wish for a New Year?
More time with family & friends. Being better about remaining in touch. Getting that marathon recap email out...
And for YOU, I wish abundance, amazing health, loads of laughter, love, peace. Okay, I wish it for me too.
Have a happy happy holiday.
Love
Craig n Fu
"And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow, stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so? It came without ribbons. It came without tags. It came without packages, boxes or bags. And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore. Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before. What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store. What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more"
~ Dr. Seuss
Friday, November 09, 2007
Wild Logic.
Friday, November 02, 2007
A Present is Presence.
"The most precious gift we can offer others is our presence. When mindfulness embraces those we love, they will bloom like flowers."
~Thich Nhat Hanh
Labels:
being_present
Monday, October 22, 2007
Streetwise.
I think it's so uncanny how you find the message (which is always there, constantly being uttered) just when it is most needed. Perhaps it's more of a matter of finally recognizing, become aware of something that's always been there.
I post a metaphysical/feelgood quote of the day at the hotel, and this was the first quote I came across when I did a quote search this morning.
Those Tibetans have a simple, clear method for successful living, which includes a sense of humor, startling honesty and a rabid curiosity about how these flawed biomachines of ours tick.
Here's the quote. Enjoy your stroll.
"Autobiography in 5 chapters:
1. I walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I fall in. I am lost... I am hopeless. It isn't my fault. It takes forever to find a way out.
2. I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I pretend I don't see it. I fall in again. I can't believe I'm in the same place. But it isn't my fault. It still takes a long time to get out.
3. I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I see it is there. I still fall in.... it's a habit. My eyes are open, I know where I am. It IS my fault. I get out immediately.
4. I walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk. I walk around it.
5. I walk down another street.
~Nyoshul Khenpo"
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Eternal One.
We live in succession, in division, in parts, in particles. Meantime within man is the soul of the whole; the wise silence; the universal beauty, to which every part and particle is equally related, the eternal ONE. And this deep power in which we exist and whose beatitude is all accessible to us, is not only self-sufficing and perfect in every hour, but the act of seeing and the thing seen, the seer and the spectacle, the subject and the object, are one. We see the world piece by piece, as the sun, the moon, the animal, the tree; but the whole, of which these are shining parts, is the soul" ~Ralph Waldo Emerson, The Over-Soul
Labels:
all_are_one,
emerson,
oversoul
Saturday, October 06, 2007
What Do You Think?
Let’s create our future, one where all are given the opportunity to enjoy the same liberties, freedoms, rights and hopes. We create our reality.
I will follow with a quote from Burma’s heart and hope, Nobel Laureate Daw Aung San Suu Kyi. Kyi, a pro-democracy activist and leader of the National League for Democracy in Myanmar (Burma), is a noted prisoner of conscience and advocate of nonviolent resistance.
A Buddhist, Suu Kyi won the Rafto Prize and the Sakharov Prize for Freedom of Thought in 1990 and in 1991 was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for her peaceful and non-violent struggle under a military dictatorship.
She is currently under detention and has been for over 4,300 days, with the Myanmar government repeatedly extending her detention. According to the results of the 1990 general election, Suu Kyi earned the right to be Prime Minister, as leader of the winning National League for Democracy party, but her detention by the military junta prevented her from assuming that role.
“We achieve everything by our efforts alone. Our fate is not decided by an almighty God. We decide our own fate by our actions. You have to gain mastery over yourself. . . . It is not a matter of sitting back and accepting.” ~Daw Aung San Suu Kyi (1945 - )
We can create what we imagine.
Imagine a Free Burma, Create. Act. Think.
http://www.amnestyusa.org/pdf/myanmar_letter.pdf
http://www.uscampaignforburma.org/action/community.html
Friday, September 28, 2007
A Dangerous COBRA, A Bridge to Bridge Run, and a Lovely Mayoty Dog. Now THAT'S a Day.
[Below is an email I sent out to my running partners in the marathon program. Enjoy, consider or delete.]
That was a great twenty miles on Saturday, folks. Ironic thing was as we were running through Duboce Triangle, I pointed out where I get my quarterly blood draw as a part of regular HIV monitoring healthcare. My insurance covers this routine blood draw, which without insurance, would cost over $700. Or so I thought until I got home from my run success.
Waiting for me?
A bill saying my claim was denied and my insurance was cancelled by Blue Shield, and I immediately owed the $700. Since I have lived in SF, I have been laid off three times, which has put me over $30,000 in debt trying to prevent just the situation I am currently going through. You see, with a preexisiting condition, if your insurance lapses, you are ineligible for future healthcare. So I have paid my COBRA, which is now over $600 a month so that i can prove continuance of care. So expensive that I can't afford the co-pays of going to the doctor. So, I guess the thing you direct the most attention trying to prevent can circle around and bite you in the ass anyhoo.
I was watching The Secret and it talks of the Law of Attraction. Did I draw this drama to me to learn some lesson? Was I exceptionally evil in the post-karma department? I don't think so. What I do believe is that it has been my calling to embody the legacy of Hermes the Messenger. I am here to remind people of personal responsibility and unconditional compassion. If my AIDS experience has increased awareness and access to treatment for others, then that is a good day.
Thank goodness for the great folks like Megan at AIDS Legal Referral Panel who are advocating my case, to Ellen at SFAF who got me on ADAP so my drug access won't be threatened, and to Peter at the Immune Enhancement Project, who has been helping me deal with this extraordinarily stressful situation through Eastern modalities like massage and acupuncture. It has all taken a toll and I am getting sick--I can feel it moving into my chest. But I am willing myself better to run with the Bridge to Bridge crew on Sunday. (Where we meeting up?)
All of this is not to say, "Woe is me..." it is to say how vitally necessary your funds and awareness you are raising are. You are outstanding, you have changed the world, and I am honored to run amongst you. Thank you for sharing of your passions, your selves.
On an unrelated note, check out this clip. Anyone wanna join me for one? Delicious! http://www.comedycentral.com/motherload/player.jhtml?ml_video=103115&is_large=true
Wind at your backs...
Namaste, I honor the god in you
Craig
Saturday, September 01, 2007
The Wisdom From Our Animal Friends.
Hello Friends of a Hermes...
My old roommie Nona sent me this. While not usually one to forward email stories (I like to find my own absurdities in life...), I loved this story and the closing message about the path. And having life define your family. Beautiful.
enjoy.
cgh
*_*_*_*_*_*_
There is much to be learned from our animal brethren. Life without prejudice, presumption or filters, a life lived in the present, meaningful and with love.
Hippopotamus and the Tortoise
'Much of life can never be explained but only witnessed.'- Rachel Naomi Remen, MD
NAIROBI (AFP) - A baby hippopotamus that survived the tsunami waves on the Kenyan coast has formed a strong
bond with a giant male century-old tortoise in an animal facility in the port city of Mombassa, officials said.
The hippopotamus, nicknamed Owen and weighing about 300 kilograms (650 pounds), was swept down Sabaki
River into the Indian Ocean, then forced back to shore when tsunami waves struck the Kenyan coast on
December 26, before wildlife rangers rescued him.
'It is incredible. A-less-than-a-year-old hippo has adopted a male tortoise, about a century old, and the tortoise seems to
be very happy with being a 'mother',' ecologist Paula Kahumbu, who is in charge of Lafarge Park, told AFP.
'After it was swept away and lost its mother, the hippo was traumatized. It had to look for something to be a surrogate mother.
Fortunately, it landed on the tortoise and established a strong bond.'
'They swim, eat and sleep together,' the ecologist added.
'The hippo follows the tortoise exactly the way it followed its mother. If somebody approaches the tortoise, the hippo becomes
aggressive, as if protecting its biological mother,' Kahumbu added.
'The hippo is a young baby, he was left at a very tender age and by nature, hippos are social animals that like to stay with their
mothers for four years,' he explained.
'Life is not measured by the number of breaths we take but by the moments that take our breath away.'
This is a real story that shows that our differences don't matter much when we need the comfort of another.
We could all learn a lesson from these two creatures of God,
'Look beyond the differences and find a way to walk the path together.'
Save the Earth... it's the only planet with chocolate...
Saturday, August 25, 2007
Living Life With Arms Wide Open
Here's an email to my pace group folks. It was a great day.
Lena-
Thanks for your email. And curse you for mentioning cheeseburgers and fries which made me walk an extra 25 yards today. How could you?
I love our pace group(s). It's funny, I think it's something about the 11:30ers. My last training group of Switzers 5 years ago were also uniquely connected and enthusiastic. Can I say that was a pretty phenomenal smorgasbord we put together? Well done, people.
So--today was hard for me. I wanted to stop at mile 12 but forced myself into being present, thinking of each interval as a mini-accomplishment. It was no longer, "What the f--- four more miles?" but, "Thank God we'll be walking in 1:29...". The energy of being a training group carried me farther than I ever would have gone alone.
Thankful for the downhills, the conversations, the pretzels and pickles. For Lena's effortless looking gate and perky ponytail which made me smile and keep running. For Tino's good sense to listen to his body. For Amy's kind ear, Allison & Veronica's leadership and organizational skills. For Santosh's donation of a PowerBar. For Jonathan's water stop. For all the money we've raised. And awareness. And hope we've created.
And thanks, Switzer As, for slowing down a bit for me at the end. And thank you, Craig's unreasonable ego, for letting me take the extra walk intervals I needed. I've come to the very real conclusion that the ego is an asshole. Sorry about the language. I was starting to beat myself up. Why? Because I walked a few more minutes than planned? But this event is not about me. I will strive to adhere to one of my favorites of the Four Agreements of Don Miguel Ruiz, Always Do Your Best. How can you be disappointed if you've done your best?
I will leave you with two things. First, a movie we should see. We'll relate.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MufrX254PQc
And second, I listened, truly listened to a song I had been aware of your a couple of years but never really paid attention to. With my day being a mixture of accomplishment, fatigue, frustration and expectation, the lyrics really resonated. I will be present, releasing the expectation of outcome and watch the story unfold, grateful, fascinated.
Listening to this again, I admit I cried.
"I am unwritten, can't read my mind, I'm undefined
I'm just beginning, the pen's in my hand, ending unplanned
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten
Oh, oh, oh
I break tradition, sometimes my tries, are outside the lines
We've been conditioned to not make mistakes, but I can't live that way
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten
Staring at the blank page before you
Open up the dirty window
Let the sun illuminate the words that you could not find
Reaching for something in the distance
So close you can almost taste it
Release your inhibitions
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten
The rest is still unwritten
The rest is still unwritten
Oh, yeah, yeah"
Here is a version of Natasha Bedingfield's song being done as a duet with Esmee Denters, an 18 girl from Holland--she's amazing.
Thank you for being part of my story.
The rest is still unwritten...
Gotta run-
Craig
Friday, August 24, 2007
Hey! Lighten Up! It's Funny!!
Tripping over Joy ~
What is the difference
Between your experience of Existence
And that of a saint?
The saint knows
That the spiritual path
Is a sublime chess game with God
And that the Beloved
Has just made such a Fantastic Move
that the saint is now continually
Tripping over Joy
And bursting out in Laughter
And saying, "I Surrender!"
Whereas, my dear,
I'm afraid you still think
You have a thousand serious moves.
~Hafiz
Sign me, Mostly Bemused.
Saturday, August 18, 2007
You People Have Powerful Connections.
Wow- you people have some powerful connections.
The vet saw a rebound in Fugee that was completely unexpected and equally unexplained. He certainly isn't out of the woods yet, but the vet felt it warranted bringing Fugee home, as the environment of the hospital was stressing him out immensely.
If it is or was Fu's time, I didn't /don't want him to go out alone, scared, in an environment so foreign in smells, sounds and without people he knows.
This is a monitoring time. There are many positive signs--Fugee wagged and quivered when he saw me--first time he'd done that since going in to the hospital, and he pullled, pulled pulled on his leash when my friend Jane and I walked him to the park.
Hopefully he will get some much needed rest and stop digesting his own organs. Silly pancreas.. Oops that reminds me--need to go get some Mallox for him.
When I got home, Fugee leapt up on to my bed and immediately started snoring--that's exactly the same response people have! Uncanny!
One thing that really touched me so was by how much and how deeply Fugee had touched many of you. He's a special bag of bones and stink, and a very real vehicle of unconditional love & friendship.
Thank you for loving him like I love him.
Have peaceful, easy Eagles' Sundays, all.
Love from Craig and Fugee, the medical miracle twosome.
Friday, August 17, 2007
Opened Boxes, Closed Chapters.
Been going through boxes of family photos trying to draw some order out of the decades of family life relegated to cardboard and mildew. Looking at old photos, scratched and yellowed, the memories come back in living technocolor, rich in emotion, outside of time.
Familiar laughter, vivid grief, warm and melancholic nostalgia. Mom and Dad, so happy on their trip to visit me when I was working in London. Mom's first time outside of the country since their honeymoon in Bermuda almost 30 years earlier, she was like a giddy kid the whole trip. She had inoperable cancer by this point, which I think she intuited, but she canceled the appointment to see her doctor before the trip, because she didn't want to be told she coudn't go. On a lighter note, how very Mom, looking great and happy--and having her napkin tucked into her skirt.
Another box yields the first Easter picnic after Mom died. It was important to us to carry on the traditions even though we felt leaden and far from wanting any sort of celebration. The picture of Gigi drinking coffee is one of my favorites--it shows her true beauty in her smile. If you didn't know the subtext to the photo, you'd think "What a warm reminiscent time she's having." Looking closer with knowledge, it's a woman smiling through extraordinary pain, the ultimate brave face.
Scamper looking like Miss October. And she popping into one of the picnic pics, too. Our animals were full fledged, backstage pass carrying family members. Scamper and Spot our cat both slept with Mom on her hospital bed during her hospice home care. The nurses were a little freaked out about Scamper yanking out Mom's triple lumen catheter, or Spot creating too much pressure on Mom's abdomen. Spot would sleep on Mom's tumor. Mom said he was trying to hatch it.
One time during Mom's illness, after I was getting over chicken pox, I went up to my bedroom and was greeted by the following sign she had taped to my door. She did things like this for Scott and me all the time. Wow, we were lucky. Won the parents Lotto.
This last picture totally captures the weekend we scattered Mom's ashes at Bank Street. The melancholy, the heartache, all there. Kodachrome grief, just like it was yesterday
Lots of history in a box.
Think A Happy Thought.
Happy Friday, All...
Just a quick request-- think happy thoughts for Fu. He's really, really sick with pancreatitis, which he may not bounce back from. He's been in the hospital three days now, on IV.
Since I am made of money, what the heck, what's another 5 grand on the debt pile? It's just delayed dues paying for being a member of Club Fugee.
And I say without hyperbole, this pooch has been my lifesaver on several occasions. He came to me the week before I found out I was positive. When I shut people out trying to deal with this, he'd push his big, loving, stinky head into my lap and give me a "Let's go for a walk or chase birds!" look. He got me outside of myself.
It's weird, I noticed a woman walking her 42 year-old much loved relic of a Lab, who was walking sideways, hunched over, with locked hips and sad, sad eyes. I looked at that scene and hoped that I would have the compassionate good sense to let Fu go went his quality of life declined. What makes Fugee's situation frustrating is that he was the same hyperkinetic puppy four days ago, who pulled me 4 miles on a run. If he can be that puppy again without putting him through extraordinary stress, it's my obligation to help him out.
I am a believer in positive intentionality, so send him a kind thought and a smile if you will.
Wrote a blog the other day about challenges, positive thinking, and what we are to conclude from them. It's here if you'd like to read it: http://hermesbrainbelch.blogspot.com/2007/08/melancholy-optimist-aka-to-coin-phrase.html
Oh, and HUGE thanks to Patrick for spending an hour and a half with Fu at the hospital yesterday, to David, for talking with my vet and helping me to ask the right questions, and to Beth for driving me over to see Fu.
I have a 7 mile maintenance run for the marathon tomorrow. Who'd have ever thought that seven miles would be considered a short run?
Enjoy your weekends.
Peace
Craig
Thursday, August 16, 2007
The Melancholy Optimist, aka To Coin a Phrase.
The Melancholy Optimist.
If one were to judge my state of mind by reading my blog, they might think I was sliding the slippery slope into a pretty dark depression. I don’t think that’s the case. I think my general nature is that of the melancholy optimist. Yes, I do acknowledge I have a light, upbeat, positive and open side, and I equally acknowledge I have a dark, hidden, restless, sad and solitary nature as well.
Bipolar? Nope. Been tested. Extraordinarily Gemini in nature, the Goofus and the Gallant? Definitely.
I prefer to think of it as both sides of the same coin. Duality, polarity noted by Buddha, Jesus, Lao Tzu and the basic tenet of alchemy, as noted by Hermes Trismegistus.
Hermes aka Hermes the Thrice Great, was “a divine fountain of writing, Hermes Trismegistus was credited with tens of thousands of writings of high standing, reputed to be of immense antiquity. Plato's Timaeus and Critias state that in the temple of Neith at Sais, there were secret halls containing historical records, which had been kept for 9,000 years. Clement of Alexandria was under the impression that the Egyptians had forty-two sacred writings by Hermes, encapsulating all the training of Egyptian priests.” (From our friends at Wikipedia…).
One of these writings was the Emerald Tablet, also known as Smaragdine Table, Tabula Smaragdina, or The Secret of Hermes, an ancient text purporting to reveal the secret of the primordial substance and its transmutations. (Thanks again, wiki.)
One of Hermes’ findings was the Law of Polarity: All things are dual in nature. Opposites are identical but different in degree. All things are balanced in their extremes of opposition.
So I guess I’m just being true in acknowledging that I am dual. Jung felt it was only after one truly embraced their darkness or shadow side that one could fully evolve.
"The task of midlife is not to look into the light, but to bring light into the darkness. The latter procedure, however, is disagreeable and therefore not popular.” ~Carl Jung : Alchemical Studies
I think you might have gotten the gist that I like the mystical answer. Astrology, psychics, philosophy and metaphysics. Religion, karma, intentional destiny and chaotic fatalism. All are attempts to make sense of our world and the events around us.
While I love the idea of karma biting the bullies on the ass and giving the good guys an extra slice of pie, I also have tried to grasp the reasons behind seemingly senseless acts of cruelty, violence, illness and loss happening to kind, compassionate people.
Is it possible in the quest for meaning that the lesson is that there is no meaning? That seems too fatalistic. If everything is one’s destiny, then would there even be a point in getting out of bed or making a decision? Fate said you were going to have peanut butter for dinner. Why break your back for a steak?
This philosophy would appear to take away any sort of responsibility for one’s life. It’s attributing what happens around us to prewritten destiny. One’s action or nonaction would have been fated to happen. Hey does this mean I can eat like a pig and never exercise again? I must have been meant to be a pig!
Okay then. Where does this place the power of positive thinking, creative visualization, prayer, and changing your thinking, changing your life? At exact opposites. If focused intention could wish away any challenge, would anyone die, be sick, have their favorite team lose the Super Bowl?
In a really half assed attribution because I can’t remember which of David Sedaris’ writings I read it in, he pictured a God sitting around deciding who would win the Tony Award and when to make the foliage peak in Vermont.
If all prayers were answered, there would no death (unless some creep prayed for someone’s death…), there would be peace, enough food for all, no disease or debt, seven day weekends, and our Christmas dinner would have a hell of a lot more Hermes, Goward, Tewksbury, and Martins around it, as a pack of adored dogs and cats begged for handouts (unless they could pray for their own little all you can eat mouse and bone buffet…).
So maybe this means that life may be a mixture of reasonable and unreasonable, fair and unfair, justified and unwarranted.
What has prompted this whole thought train or derailment, as cynics might view it, is my trying to make sense of the basketful of challenges I have been given.
Am I working through some horrific karma? Was I Klaus Barbie or Vlad the Impaler in another life? A puppy puncher and braid puller? An antecedent of Britney Spears? God forbid, the inventor of Spam? Doubt it.
So why the sickness, the debt, the loss? To learn important lessons in order to evolve? Because it was destined? Because I manifested it?
Or is all this ‘poor, poor me’ pity party mentality simply caused by the insanely Self-obsessed monkey mind thinking everything that happens around us is about us? That seems really egocentric self-important.
Lots of questions. And I guess it boils down to, the more I learn the less I know. And I am guessing that’s a lot to know.
Duality as One.
“What does it mean that success is as dangerous as failure? Whether you go up the ladder or down it, your position is shaky.
When you stand with your two feet on the ground, you will always keep your balance.
What does it mean that hope is as hollow as fear? Hope and fear are both phantoms that arise from thinking of the self. When we don't see the self as self, what do we have to fear?
See the world as your self. Have faith in the way things are. Love the world as your self; then you can care for all things.
Empty your mind of all thoughts.
Let your heart be at peace. Watch the turmoil of beings, but contemplate their return.
Each separate being in the universe returns to the common source. Returning to the source is serenity.
If you don't realize the source, you stumble in confusion and sorrow. When you realize where you come from, you naturally become tolerant, disinterested, amused, kindhearted as a grandmother, dignified as a king.
Immersed in the wonder of the Tao, you can deal with whatever life brings you, and when death comes, you are ready. The great Tao flows everywhere”
Lao Tzu, Tao te Ching as translated by Stephen Mitchell
Tuesday, August 14, 2007
Raindrops On Roses, And Fathers On Endchairs
I owed a pic of Dad, the handsome devil. He belongs in my gallery of favorite things. Here he is in the chair from West Springfield that Scott & Jane just inherited from Dickie.
We were so different and so alike, we drove each other to distraction, were in frequent conflict, and really loved one another anyway. I'm sure he was baffled by Scott's & my behavior--talking back, being bad. His strict German Canadian father ran a tough ship--I remember Mom saying she was scared of him when she first met stern Pop-in-law Otto. But she got to know him and really loved him. Isn't much of family like that?
This other pic also belongs back with my other Dad pic. One of my fondest memories was being in Y Indian Guides with Dad. We got to do cool things, didn't have to be a jock like in Boy Scouts.
Can't remember what my name was... Heap Bighead? Little Nerdling? Brave Squishy Belly?
Hmmmm. Dunno
I miss him.
Saturday, August 11, 2007
And I ran, I ran so far away...
saturday, december 7, 2002
Wishing all the Spirit of Aloha from sunny Honolulu!
I can’t believe it’s been six months since I took my first steps out at Golden Gate Park. Let’s be clear here, I never thought I’d be able to run in a Marathon. I remember the thrill of seeing my uncle at the base of Heartbreak Hill in the Boston Marathon, back in the mid-‘70s. All cool relaxed and happy smiles -- he actually stopped to give us all hugs and to chat -- if you can believe it. With a crowd of runners so focused on finishing, time, splits, winners, losers, success and failure -- it really touched me that for my Uncle Charlie, his most important focus was having an enjoyable run and sharing it with the family he loved.
Flash forward a quarter century, and now it’s my turn to carry the torch (is an Olympic reference confusing in a Marathon reflection?). Why am I running? Because when I found out I was HIV positive, I never thought I’d be 40. I turned 40 in May, so I run.
I run as celebration, as education, I run for those who can’t, I run because I am so very lucky to be in the five percent of the HIV-positive world population that has access to HIV medications that their body responds to. I run for the children I was fortunate to have laughed and played with in India, Thailand, Nepal, Tibet, Burma, Cambodia, Lao. I run for my niece and nephew, so that HIV just might be less of a reality in their world. I run for my friend and vocal coach, Toby Hall, the first person I knew that died of AIDS. I run because every five minutes, another US teen seroconverts. I run to support the phenomenal staff and clients of the San Francisco AIDS Foundation -- people that inspire me with their selfless dedication and amazing integrity. And mostly, I run because I can, I must, be fully and completely alive every moment of every day.
One of HIV’s greatest gifts for me is the importance it has given me toward being fully accountable to my present. I feel it is my duty, my obligation, to raise the bar continually, to go beyond fear, doubt, and cynicism. I’ve never been a jock (in fact I was a double for the Beaver growing up -- all huge head and the clichéd “last one picked for the softball team” shoulder slump). But I knew I had the ability to draw from enormous amounts of steely reserve. It’s a fantastically enriching experience to do something just because it’s difficult, just because it needs to be done. Would I want it easy? No way. Life isn’t easy but it is an amazing course in progressive learning. That which doesn’t kill you definitely improves your sense of humor. So I remember to laugh.
Having been involved in 12 fundraising bike rides for AIDS services and vaccine research in the past eight years, I’ve constantly pushed to challenge myself. Longer distances, multiple events, larger donations. I know bike rides, and I know I can ride my bike til the cows come home. But I didn’t know if I could run. So I run. The unknown is not scary if you open your arms to all possibilities.
This is sort of my Triple Crown 2002 after AIDS/LifeCycle and the AIDS Walk. And in January, I leave to do my own fundraising ascent of Mount Kilimanjaro to raise funds for African AIDS relief through Pangaea and for the Dian Fossey Gorilla Fund. All are one, and I will do what I can while I have strength of body, mind, spirit. Then, I guess, I really should become gainfully reemployed and spend some time with my pooch, Fugee.
One of the greatest involvements I had with the bike rides was as a member of Positive Pedalers, an HIV positive cyclist group. My first few AIDS rides, before I knew I was positive, I marveled at the commitment and fortitude of these beautiful HIV-positive men and women with the orange flags on their bikes who, invariably, would zoom past me as I was doing my Artie Johnson-from-Laugh-In-try-not-to-tip-over-creep up some of California’s steepest hills. I was humbled by the endurance of these people doing what I was finding to be nearly impossible, and doing it within the context of HIV -- fatigue, diarrhea, neuropathy. And doing it with smiles, hope, and joy. Jonathan Pon, the founder of Positive Pedalers, was a true inspiration. Jonathan successfully ran in last year’s Honolulu Marathon, and had hoped to start a similar program for positive runners. Sadly, Jonathan passed away shortly after last year’s Marathon.
With his vision, I started Positive Strides, to offer participants in the AIDS Marathon training program the same chance to connect with one another and to provide some education and visibility for HIV-positive participants in the Marathon training program. It’s in its infancy, but we did have 10 people from the Bay Area in our group. I hope that we will continue on with running post-Marathon. And I see great potential for growth.
So here I am, very excited to go for a run around Honolulu! My challenges to myself are to just let the run be what it is. I will be present -- look at flowers, hear birds, drink water. I will ask people why they are running. I will leave behind expectations. Leave behind history, of failure and success. I will just be.
And I am so enormously thankful. Thankful for my friends who’ve supported me unquestioningly throughout the years, thankful for family whom I love like none other, thankful for the fantastic staffs at both the AIDS Marathon office and the San Francisco AIDS Foundation, thankful for all my friends in the Kathy Switzer pace group, thankful for my friends David & Renata who I hornswaggled into running with me, thankful for each and every person who made the extraordinary commitment of time, energy, money, heart, and endurance to come to Hawaii and raise money to fight the pandemic and human suffering caused by HIV. You give me hope, you inspire me, you are all spectacular, and you have made a difference in our world. Enjoy your run.
Mahalo/Namaste/Peace.
sunday, december 8, 2002
The Spirit of Aloha comes through!
Well, it’s official. I’m in the one percent of the world population that has completed a Marathon. And now I can see why it’s one percent. This amazing experience challenged me like I haven’t been challenged before. I’ve pushed on through innumerable difficulties, and this took all my pushing abilities. I birthed a 26.2 mile baby!
I was so incredibly inspired by the whole event. By the 30,000 people participating, by the 1,700 people that came in the name of AIDS, the thousands that came in the name of arthritis, lymphoma and leukemia, breast cancer. The heroic wheelchair participants. The blind runners. The fireworks over Diamond Head at the race start. The man running in wooden elevated sandals and kimono. The scores of people along the route handing out water, candy, pretzels, beer (!!!!-didn’t warn me about that one!), the volunteers handing out sponges, water, Amino Vital.
What really touched me was the support I was shown on the route. People shouting my name (I thought nearly every time, “Do I know them?” then remembered I’d written my name on my shirt). People telling me they were running for me and all positive people. That outpouring of love and support carried miles farther than my feet wanted to go.
I had a really strong start and stayed strong until mile 16. Then something happened. I think it was a combination of endorphins, fatigue, heat, joy, sadness -- that made me hit my emotional and spiritual wall. My God, did my spirit rebel. But I just kept going, head down, thankful for health, for the beauty, for hope. And thankful for the beautiful trade winds blowing me back to Waikiki. But, honestly, from miles 21 through 24, I felt like I dropped through the rabbit hole, fell through a wrinkle in the spacetime continuum. A place with a cruel sense of humor, where seconds seemed like days and minutes, weeks. At one point I looked at my watch and thought, “Huh, watch must have stopped,” then I saw it advance by a second. Spooky evil watch.
And just when I thought I would start to actually break down and sob (Dear God -- a sensitive New Age guy ...), I’d hear from the sides, “Craig, you look strong. Keep running buddy.” And then I’d wanna cry for an entirely different reason.
At mile 25, I passed a woman who was walking and as she read the back of my shirt (which read “HIV positive runner-Craig”), I heard her yell, “I’m finishing with you!” This urged me on when I felt spent, and Katherine and I ran in strong.
I again, am so thankful for every aspect of this experience. For my health, for the beauty of the world and the beauty of the entire AIDS Marathon community. For the difficulty, for the success. And from the bottom of my being, I thank the entire AIDS Marathon community, the San Francisco AIDS Foundation, APLA and everyone who celebrated this noble effort toward eliminating the pandemic and suffering caused by HIV. If I could hug each participant and each donor, I would. You are a shining example of what is right in our world. You are my heroes.
Maholo.
Craig Hermes
Finisher 10,000 something and 800 something in my age group. Finisher -- but not finished. On I run.
Saturday, August 04, 2007
electricganesha, write on.
from wikipedia,
"Ganesha (Gaṇeśa; also spelled Ganesa or Ganesh) is one of the best-known and most worshipped deities in Hinduism. Although he is known by many other attributes, Ganesha's elephant head makes him easy to identify.
Several texts relate mythological anecdotes associated with his birth and exploits, and explain his distinct iconography. Ganesha is worshipped as the lord of beginnings and as the lord of obstacles (Vighnesha), patron of arts and sciences, and the god of intellect and wisdom. He is honoured with affection at the start of any ritual or ceremony and invoked as the "Patron of Letters" at the beginning of any writing.
Ahhhh. He shows up at the beginning of writing, bearing and removing the obstacles that stand between one and the Aum. Be with me as I write, I offer my heart and pain, and laughter and hope, that we might all grow closer to understanding our oneness, our interconnection,to claim our own magnificence.
Thank you for the obstacles, for those placed with love, and those removed with compassion.
Ganesh Gayatri
Om Eka Dantaya Vidmahe
Vakra Thundaya Dhemahi
Thannoh Dhantih Prachodhayath
Om Shanti ... Shanti ... Shanti
Realizing that Elephant-faced One,
with one tusk is God;
Meditate on the One Who has a curved trunk;
May He enlighten our intellect.
Ganesh Gayatri
Friday, August 03, 2007
life's too short not to love catsup.
Monday, July 30, 2007
my favorite things...
my favorite things... my Mom, my bro, my dog Snoopy, who I used to let lick my mouth out, Scamper, my beautiful Labrodeagle, Spot, my fat stray cat, my Adam Ant lunchbox and matching pencil box, my cupie curls, my two year old pot belly, my foot deep pool... pretty fond of Scott's paisley catastrophe, too.
Ahh, Cape Cod and a camphor and mildew smelling cottage. Wonderful.
I owe a good pic of Dad, he belongs here to. I'll go digging through the ages.
Doesn't Mom look proud of her pumpkin? Hard to imagine that radiant being died two years later. I guess heaven needed a water aerobics instructor. Had jugs, would travel.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
A Real Dragnet Pot Party. LSD is the Bomb.
Ever the psychonaut, a young Craig at the age of 7 dons one of Mom's wigs, droops the eyes to half mast and acts like a Hippy at a Pot Party--just like the evils Sargeant Joe Friday warned us impressionable pre-teens about...
"Marijuana's the match, heroin’s the fuse, LSD's the bomb!" -- Sgt. Joe Friday, Dragnet. Thanks, Joe.
And thanks Polly Bergen, for letting me borrow your hair.
Wednesday, July 18, 2007
We Are Family.
"You don't choose your family. They are God's gift to you, as you are to them." ~Desmond Tutu.
“What greater thing is there for human souls than to feel that they are joined for life - to be with each other in silent unspeakable memories.” ~George Eliot
“Family life is full of major and minor crises -- the ups and downs of health, success and failure in career, marriage, and divorce -- and all kinds of characters. It is tied to places and events and histories. With all of these felt details, life etches itself into memory and personality. It's difficult to imagine anything more nourishing to the soul.” ~Thomas Moore
“The bond that links your true family is not one of blood, but of respect and joy in each other's life.” -Richard Bach
For Eleanor Scola, 1912 - 2007
Some people share genetic history yet this does not make them family. Others walk into our lives through marriage, friendship, circumstance, tragedy, or death, sharing no lineage yet through the power of a shared history and connected at the heart, they become family.
I don't need any cheek swab of skin cells to prove my grandpaternity. Dickie, who I called Gigi (rhymes with Twiggy) until her death last week at the age of 95, was my grandmother. She was married to my grandfather of no relation, James “Doctor Jim” Victor Scola, who was more a friendly stranger, actually. Help me here—I need PowerPoint presentation as a visual to understanding the Family Hermes/Scola/Goward/Tewksbury/Martin. I can’t keep track—and I love ‘em! How could I expect you to, really?
Oh, by the way, thanks, Scott, for your startling diction as a baby. Why was I the only one still calling her by her baby-dubbed moniker? I remember calling her Dickie exactly once. It didn't flow from my tongue, this adult term of endearment. I remember Gigi raising an eyebrow and suppressing a small smile. It felt wrong when I said it, like I'd said, "Heya, Toots!". Gigi, she was and will be forever more. Amen.
Eleanor "Dickie" Mendum Hermes Scola came into the Hermes family via marriage to my grandfather, Otto Edmond Hermes, in 1947. After my grandfather died in 1957, Dickie remarried a dear friend of her's and Otto's who had recently lost his wife. Dr. James V. Scola gave Dickie the last of her surnames and became her dear companion for over 40 years.
One of my fonder memories of the Cape was an afternoon spent in a rubber raft and then body surfing with Gigi’s sister, Dot Evans. I was probably 12 or so, and I thought it was SO cool that the magical character with an infectious laugh would want to spend time hanging out with an awkward adolescent.
I remember asking Mom & Dad very excitedly, “Does this mean Scott and I have a cool new Great Aunt & Uncle?”. I think the response was along the lines of “Well, not REALLY, but we seem to make up family as we go…so if you’d like to think of them as that, sure! We love Dot & Brad!” What is family if not love?
So where does this leave us?
I had a step grandmother and a step-step grandfather on my paternal side. Is there such a thing as a step step? Didn't matter to Scott and me. They were just our grandparents—we didn’t need to see pedigree like the stiff-bloomered Daughters of the American Revolution. They were every bit the grandparents that "Grammie" Phyllis Goward Tewksbury Martin and "Grampa" James Leo Martin were on the maternal side. They spent holidays with us, Dr. Jim made bow ties for us, Gigi always making Christmas breads, cookies, pies, playing tag, going fishing, taking an intense interest in all we did.
Actually, come to think of if, Grammie was the only "true" grandparent in the bunch. You see, Grampa was first married to Grammie's sister Dottie (my Great Aunt) and after she passed, he married Grammie, his sister-in-law, and went from being my great uncle to becoming my Gruncle -great uncle grandfather.
Mom held enormous affection for Grampa--after her dad John Tewksbury committed suicide when Mom was only three, Grammie's sister Dorothy 'Dottie' Goward and her husband Jim Martin, were constant sources of strength, support, and love for Mom, Grammie & Charlie during some very trying years. He was her father figure growing up and Dottie was like a spare Mummie. What an embarrassment of familial riches!
When Grammie & Grampa got married in 1964, Mom was thrilled beyond belief, and immediately bestowed upon Uncle Jim the name of power, love, and respect—he became her Papa.
It's a really beautiful thing that all these amazing, strong, individuals, whose lives were woven together through periods of great loss and sadness, were able to transcend these losses and go on to some of the most beautiful and enduring moments of their lives. They became family. Our family. My family.
“So a Goward was a Tewksbury, a Tewksbury a Martin. The Martin was a Goward, too, two sisters and an uncle. A Mednum was a Hermes until became a Scola, a Scola who was no relation, and yet He was my grandfather.” to the tune of “I Am The Very Model of A Modern Major General...”
Isn't the Hermes genealogy like a fun crossbreed of a Gilbert & Sullivan patter song with an intense sensation of a brain freeze. Why bother with semantics and flow charts--they were all just my much-loved family.
It was a mix of emotion traveling out to Gigi’s funeral. On the one hand, I was so happy that she could finally be at peace, separated from a failing body. I don’t really think of death as sad. Well, not for the dead, anyway. It’s sad for us schmoes left behind. We miss people taken from us in inflexible terms. But I have to believe that we go on, energy is neither created or destroyed—it’s just good science.
At Mom’s funeral, I was so struck by my Uncle Charlie’s telling of the experience of Mom’s death being like she had boarded a ship, and we wave from the shore, in intense grief, crying, saying, “There she goes…” but on a distant shore there is a group of familiar, loving faces, waving excitedly, saying, “Here she comes!”
I was saying to Scott, I can just picture Dickie setting up her beach chair at Bank Street beach, her receiving a 'welcome to the party' with Mom, Dad, Otto, Dr. Jim, Virginia, Marguerite, Uncle Tommy, Peggy, Aunt Carol, Grammie, Grampa, Dottie, Gay, Paul, Bruce--that's getting to be a sizable bunch of fun folks! Heck, I bet Scamper, Snoopy, Muffin, Happy Cat, Stinky, Blackie, Chinky, Billy, Spot, and numerous other loved creatures are hanging around, too.
So, winding up, I am so grateful for Dickie and all the other beautiful loving souls who banded together and became our family. I am particularly thankful for the unconditional love that our family affords. It must have been hard for Dickie & Jim and Grammie & Grampa to understand our so-very-different generation. They came from an upbringing of etiquette, reserve, respect, church, handwritten notes, Benny Goodman and blind parental obedience. They sacrificed for their children, saved a lot, rationed food and goods, deferred doing many niceties, and worked at one job until retirement (with a pension…) They survived wars and depression, atomic bombs and segregation.
We, on the other hand, had a generation or two wedged between us and them, generations that discovered drugs, sex, rock and roll, civil disobedience, questioning of authority. Hippies, Black Panthers, war protesters, punks, piercings, and tattoos. Immediate gratification, The Me generation, the Automatic Age, Sexual freedom, The Age of Space Travel, the Internet, endemic potty mouth, the shrinking of the globe, and a world of dangerous new epidemics and terrorists threats.
But they loved us all the more, even if they did not understand us. I think it was precisely this reason that they got a charge out of us. We were like strange, non-threatening creatures from the future, opening doors to new worlds for ourselves and in doing so, for them as well.
One of my deeper regrets was the way that our modes of communicating kept us from being in the close touch we both desired. I remember telling Gigi it was so hard for me to sit down and write a note, that I would much rather call or email—I wanted the personal, immediate response of interacting with a loved one. You don’t hear laughter in a letter.
Gigi, having survived the depression, seemed to get deep personal agony from a long distance call. As happy as she was to talk to me or to Scott, it was always a brief, “Well, this is costing you a lot of money, calling all the way across the country…Bye!”
Once, I even offered to buy her a computer so that I could email her. It was politely declined. It wasn’t the computer, per se, which Gigi was opposed to. It was new technology, which I’m sure she thought she wouldn’t use enough to warrant having. But she did like my writing. I was very touched to find my Africa and India emails printed out in a special folder when we were packing up her apartment.
One of my last conversations with Gigi was when I was in Ridgefield last Fall. She pulled me aside and said, “Craig, where is your book? You are a gifted writer. I want you to promise me a page a day. In less that a year, you’ll have a book! You have a message, and you’re witty. Promise me? Page a day?”
Unfortunately, it’s taken me until today to break through the writer’s block that life lessons and circumstance had afforded me in the last few years. But I think I am regaining my voice.
This humble five page entry, Eleanor Mendum Hermes Scola, aka just my Gigi, is for you. I love you very much and feel so deeply fortunate that you were my grandmother, a loving stepmom to Dad and to my Mom, a friend. You were a truly unique New England gem. I’ll miss you very much.
Say hi to everybody at Bank Street for me.
Friday, June 29, 2007
effort.
Take the first step in faith. You don't have to see the whole staircase. Just take the first step."
~Martin Luther King, Jr.
At times, it seems like an uphill battle, but that only drives us on.
Thank you for joining me in the fight to end the pandemic and human suffering caused by HIV.
Love
Craig
https://www.sfaf.org/give/marathon.cfm?e=FL07&f=Craig&l=Hermes&n=5053
Don't Call Me Doctor Love.
Thursday, June 28, 2007
Amazing. Watch this.
to see legends, even though grainy and lip synching... to look back in time.
amazing...
just found out Joan Diener died last year of cancer. She and Richard Kiley were my heroes growing up; She was very sweet to my Mom and me when we met her in 1973. So was Richard Kiley. She wrote me a very touching letter maybe 20 years ago.
For a few moments, Mom was alive again. Dulcinea.
"Without music, life would be a mistake." ~Friedrich Nietzsche
Thursday, June 21, 2007
Herpes, Greek God of Eternal Love.
Who says that stress tweaks your immune system? Poppycock. Ahhhh. I so rarely get to type poppycock. Nice.
Well a week of sun and intense exercise-that my body dealt with fine. The run? Tired but doable. The stress of my COBRA situation?
Boing.
Herpes is enveloping my head.
Today was a stressful day. I met with Ellen at the Foundation and went through the ADAP intake process. She was great--compassionate, concerned, and made a complex process fairly painless. So much paperwork. I have to admit, I felt really guilty applying for help. You know, at 45, you sort of feel like you should be able to take better care of yourself. I wonder how people who aren't highly functioning keep up with all the demands the programs require.
I went in for the ADAP intake at the advice of some friends from NY who are on ADAP. In NY, insurance premiums, prescriptions and supplements are covered under ADAP. Very forward thinking. It gave me some hope. Surely California is at least as good.
Fat chance.
ADAP will save me $60 in co-pay a month. It helps. But that still leaves me nearly $800 - $1,000 a month out of pocket--as an insured person. $550 for COBRA, $150 for labs, $40 for office visit co-pay, maybe $150 in supplements. How can people do it?
The advice I've heard is that I would get better assistance if I feigned disability, said I couldn't work full time. So, options are: lie about ability to work, go completely off COBRA and let the state pay for everything, or just continue to slide deeper and deeper into debt.
Another challenge to the whole ADAP thing is the number of hoops you have to jump though proving you're sick-amount of virus in blood, number of T-cells, your lack of money--and the need to keep reproving how sick and poor you are. All a very uplifting, life affirming process. Wouldn't it be better to focus on our wellness?
My lip is tingling like a colony of ants in maribou slippers is doing a June Taylor flower formation. I see and FEEL the link between stress and wellness.
Thank you COBRA and ADAP for reminding me very tangiblly, that my immune system is fucked up. Just not fucked up enough for any meaningful help.
Burning a mountain of sage. Nice thoughts nice thoughts.
The tingling is better already.
a fitting epitaph.
Not to get all morbid on your asses, but on Day 7, Rest stop 2, I saw a quote which I want to be my epitaph. I used to joke (as one might when their mortality is breathing down their neck) that I most defintely did NOT want my epitaph to read, "He made an eccentric billionaire richer and sold Britney Spears records."
Often thought about what I would like, never really popped out at me.
Sometimes the universe sends you a sign, you know?
"Don't cry because it's over,
Smile because it happened."
~Dr. Seuss
Perfect.
A Wish For A Peaceful Day.
Just a quick wish for a peaceful day. Took this pic on ALC near Carpenteria. Who knew it was near Chiang Mai?
Started running last Saturday. It kicked my ass. Entirely different muscles & cardio level from cycling. I was beating myself up for feeling slow and fat, but when I finished my three mile time trial, I found out I ran at exactly the same pace as five years ago, when I was running all the time. I'm a Switzer again!
Fugee saw me putting on my heartrate monitor for my maintenance run and flipped out--he, as my friend Michelle put it best, leapt through the air like Rudolph in the "She thinks I'm cuuuuuttttttttteeee......" episode. I wondered about taking him on a 4 mile run, as he just turned 11. I figured if it killed, him, he'd die ecstatic. He left me in the dust.
Gotta run-
Craig
https://www.sfaf.org/give/marathon.cfm?e=FL07&f=Craig&l=Hermes&n=5053
AIDS Marathon Florence 2007 Runner #5053, ALC Rider #4147, SFAF Client, HIV+ over 12 years, a pain in the ass for far longer
Wednesday, June 13, 2007
Being Alive.
"To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch or a redeemed social condition;
To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived.
This is to have succeeded." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson, b. May 25, 1803
"Training? What the hell's training?" ~Craig Hermes, b. May 25, 1962
Friends, family, my ever-patient supporters, and generous of heart and spirit companions-
The above quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson was found inside a plastic Easter egg attached to my bike seat on Day 7 by the Chicken Lady, who has been doing the AIDS rides since 1994. She spent hours personally assembling and attaching these eggs to the over 2,333 bikes which were part of AIDS/LifeCycle 6. I've always loved the quote and attach particular poignance to it since Emerson and I share a birthday. Thank you, Chicken Lady, for your 13 years of joy, inspiration, dedication and heart in fighting the pandemic. You've kept us smiling and pedaling, when legs have said 'No more," and asses have said, "You gotta be kidding..." I dedicate a portion of this ride to you and look forward to riding with you again.
So, how was it?
In a word, extraordinary. Difficult, joyous, exhausting, exhilarting, somber, hilarious, sorrowful and hopeful. Often all these within the course of one good hill. The thing I find so impactful about these rides is that they don't allow you the luxury of not caring. The ride is life raw, unfiltered. I found myself frustrated to the point of tears, regretting the fact I was having difficulties, questioning my vitality and ability to stay the course. Then, as life/the universe/the path would have it, at my lowest point, pow--just the message I need to keep going. At lunch on Day 1, a sweet text message from my old roomie Susan telling me my spirit would carry me through. Tears, a chicken sandwich and a Gatorade, I got back on the bike and rode "Just one more pit stop..." At the next pit, feeling done for the day and maybe the event, a message from my friend Sabrina saying, "Bit by bit, bite by bite," and again I mustered the oomph to sit my untrained saddle sore butt on a seat for just a bit more, and before I knew it, Santa Cruz.
Well, maybe not before I knew it. I got in the camp 90 minutes later than the year before. Lifelong patterns of celebrating the disappointment and deflecting the accomplishment tried to trick me into feeling a failure. I took a breath, gave myself an attitude enema, and purged that caca out of my thinking. I finished! As my Aussie friend Simone would say, "Good on me!"
On Day 2, a century plus, I stopped for artichokes in honor of my friend Cathy and shared a great nosh with Diane, my Vaccine ride cohort and friend, her sister Nita, and a few hundred others. Back on the bike and rolled into camp at 7:00 as the route was closing, after almost 13 hours of cycling. As great good fortune would have it, Diane was right beside me. We looked at one another, and I said "I've never been this far back in the pack...and I LOVE it..." She agreed wholeheartedly, particularly enjoying the shorter lines at lunch and pits. I was quite a breakthrough for me. Always forced to the brink of defeat and despair by a cruel and relentless ego bent on perfection, I actually was buying the "Do your best" tenet I always aspired to.
With my shift, a new energy, drive, joy spurred me on. I woke up unnaturally happy at 4:15 am as Mariano stuck his finger in my ear and nose and rattled mylar. Ahhh, friends! Thank God for friends.
By Day three, I was the 1,048th person into lunch, now back in the thick of the event, riding beside Gutterbunnies, former AIDSRide friends and coworkers, and familiar friendly faces I had been cycling beside for over 13 years. Fast forward to Day 7, and I was the 102nd person into lunch. How on earth did that happen?
Drive, determination, and the ability to transcend discomfort. The shift in mindset of "Ugh, 545 miles with some significant hills," to, "Hey, only 15 miles to the next pit..."
Bit by bit, bite by bite.
As Martin Luther King, Jr. said, "Take the first step in faith. You don't have to see the whole staircase. Just take the first step."
As I rode in to closing cermonies, I was tired but satisfied, glad to have had the chance to bask in the amazing community of determined, compassionate, diverse, beautiful souls who unite once a year to do something very difficult, just because it needs to be done. I let the intense, tangible feeling of love eminating from this group of extraordinary individuals wash over me--and I openly sobbed. Sometimes life is too beautiful.
So what did we create? AIDS/LifeCycle 6 had 2,333 cyclists, almost 500 roadies and volunteers, raised over $11 million and was seen by over 10 million Californians. You opened your hearts and wallets and you have made a significant impact in the commitment to ending the pandemic and human suffering caused by HIV. A world without stigma, supporting our brothers and sisters, challenging assumptions about what it means to live with HIV, and challenging assumptions about what we can personally accomplish if we align heart, spirit, determination and, well, love. I rode behind a minister who had a sign on his bike which read, "Jesus would do the ride." Yeah I think he definitely would have.
In an ironic twist of fate, I returned home to a letter from my COBRA plan administrator saying there had been an error between my former employer, my insurer and the administrator. Even though they had been billing me at $210 a month and I had been paying it, they realized that my coverage had been incorectly assigned, and I should have been being billed $529 a month and I now owed $2,100, due by July 1st or my coverage would be terminated effective last February. And I would need to repay any benefits, prescriptions costs, or office visits between those dates. Oh, about $10,000 or so. And if I lose coverage, I am uninsurable for the rest of my life. Welcome to the wonderful world of living with HIV.
So I return to the San Francisco AIDS Foundation, again as a client, humbled, bike helmet in hand, and will work with a case worker and ADAP to ensure I can at least get my meds covered. This is why these events are necessary. They keep people alive. People like me. I don't particularly care if you identify as Republican, Libertarian, Green Party, Democrat or Independent--hell, you can even be a Whig if you like. All I ask is that as we head into an election year, place your vote with a candidate who is an advocate for health care reform. It's ludicrous that our profit driven system would rather allow people to fall into financial ruin or die due to lack of access to treatment. We are our brother's keeper. That which affects the least of us affects all of us. We all have HIV if one of us does.
Okay, off the soapbox.
This weekend, I start the AIDS Marathon training program for the Florence marathon. I must ensure services that have been there for me are there for others. I would love to have you be a part of my team for Florence. The link under my signature will allow you to donate securely. They even allow donations over time so a significant donation is a little less painful. I thank you for your consideration. You've saved my life more than once.
I also extend the offer I did last year. Please also consider participating as a cyclist or roadie in next year's AIDS/LifeCyle. I would love to form a Team Hermes. I will be your first donor and will support you on every step of your adventure. It will transform you, alchemical in its power.
Thank you, LAGLC and San Francisco AIDS Foundation, AIDS/LifeCycle community, my friends, family, donors and well-wishers. I am alive because of you all.
I leave you with a link to Raul Esparza singing 'Being Alive' from the Tony Awards. Please afford yourself the chance to truly hear it. It's a good metaphor for the ride and for life. Let the words seep into you, unfiltered. Allow yourself to feel, regain and celebrate your humanity. This is life, raw. Alive.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j8kYfPoHyos
"Somebody, hold me too close,
Somebody, hurt me too deep,
Somebody, sit in my chair
And ruin my sleep
And make me aware
Of being alive,
Being alive.
Somebody, need me too much,
Somebody, know me too well,
Somebody, pull me up short
And put me through hell
And give me support
For being alive,
Make me alive.
Make me confused,
Mock me with praise,
Let me be used,
Vary my days.
But alone is alone, not alive.
Somebody, crowd me with love,
Somebody, force me to care,
Somebody, make me come through,
I'll always be there,
As frightened as you,
To help us survive
Being alive,
Being alive,
Being alive!"
Namaste
I Honor the God in You.
Craig
https://www.sfaf.org/give/marathon.cfm?e=FL07&f=Craig&l=Hermes&n=5053
AIDS Marathon Florence 2007 Runner #5053, ALC Rider #4147, SFAF Client, HIV+ over 12 years, a pain in the ass for far longer
Tuesday, June 12, 2007
Slices In Time From An Extraordinary Week.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
It's Late, I'm Exhausted...hey lets ride 600 miles!
Hey Friends, family!
It's 11:08 and I'll be getting up at 4:00AM to do AIDS/LifeCycle 6. Each year is a completely different experience. This year, as I head into the event, I'm tired, undertrained and have been really sick prior to the event. I'll adhere to my Don Miguel Ruiz tenet and do my best. It's the most you can do and there is no regret then.
I know my emails are usually a bit more inspired, but I'm trusting in the event to reset my barometer and rekindle my spirit--it always does. Life on the event is life raw, without a filter. Happiness, sorrow, inspiration, anxiety, kindness, endurance--all there, all in their utmost intensity. It's beautiful.
Thank you so much for your kind words, donations, your love and presence in my life-you are among my life's greatest riches.
As a side note, as of yesterday, we had already raised over $10 million. Extraordinary. As a sobering adjunct, for each hour of the event, 558 more people will become HIV posiive. Necessary.
Well, I really need to sleep. If you'd like to follow our journey down the coast, check out
http://experience.aidslifecycle.org/
It's like a daily vitamin for your soul--seven days as the world ought to be.
I will report more when I can. Be well.
Namaste
I Honor The God In You.
Namaste
I Honor the God in You.
Craig
https://www.sfaf.org/give/marathon.cfm?e=FL07&f=Craig&l=Hermes&n=5053
AIDS Marathon Florence 2007 Runner #5053, ALC Rider #4147, SFAF Client, HIV+ over 12 years, a pain in the ass for far longer
Friday, May 25, 2007
Natividad!
Happy Birthday to me! 45. Wow. I remember when my parents turned 40--and they were old, well, uh, parents... And I remember Mom's 50th--I put a foam core sign up in front of our house saying "Honk! Carol's 50!!" She was a mortified great sport about it--even posed for a pic hold roses and giving the queen's wave to the honking cars passing our house on Hopmeadow. My Mom. 50. Scott's age. When exactly was the time when days became weeks became months, then years...
I remember asking my 85 year old grandmother when it was she noticed she was old. Loved her response.
"I never did. I look at the world the same way, but I look in the mirror and see an old lady looking back at me." All point of view, I guess.
Thought I'd look up the "If today's your birthday..." sites. So funny, in a dark way. Here it is:
Birthday Horoscope for 05/25
The May 25th person lives their life suffering in some way or another. This is accredited to the planet Neptune. Illusions that seem to offer some form of transcendence is another trait of this planet. The person born on this day has excellent skills and are usually great thinkers in the work place, but can spend some time warding off objectors. As a mate, the May 25th person is unique and captivating. The ideal mate of this person would offer a atmosphere of stability.
Famous Birthdays; Mike Myers, Tom T. Hall, Frank Oz, Leslie Uggams, Paul Weller (The Jam), Klaus Meine (The Scorpions), Miles Davis.
How rosy! Happy birthday, sufferer! I did have someone ask me if I was aware of the archetype of Chyron, the wounded healer. He took on the suffering and illness of the world in order to heal others. I kind of like that myth. But I prefer option B, heal others AND yourself. That's my track.
Well, off to sing karaoke with Mike, Maurino, James at the Triple R in Guernville. Mellow birthday, good friends, nice.
My birthday intention? To be more present.
A nice present, no?
Peace.
Wednesday, May 16, 2007
Jump.
Monday, May 14, 2007
Heat Wave! Burning in My Heart!
The Healer Watches.
Funny how concerned Fugee was with my being really, REALLY sick this week. Had a fever of 102.5 for five days, not strep, not pneumonia, not sure what it was. Maybe just an ideal way to do some endurance training three weeks before ALC.
Spent most of the time sleeping, Fugee pressed into me with his head on my chest, occassionaly looking up and giving me a worried glance and a lick. When friends came by to walk him, he had to be coerced to go out and leave me.
What a good friend.
Shadow Facts.
"The task of midlife is not to look into the light, but to bring light into the
darkness. The latter procedure, however, is disagreeable and therefore not popular."
Carl Jung : Alchemical Studies
Friday, May 04, 2007
What an Einstein.
Thursday, April 26, 2007
Still Necessary.
Friends, Family-
I am truly testing your good nature, I know this, but please hear me out. It's important.
The great news?
Craig's Team of Family & Friends for ALC 2007 has already raised over $3,200 for my participation in the 575-mile journey this June. Thank you SO MUCH for believing in me, for caring, for choosing action over complacency, for being the change we wish to see in the world.
So, why the email?
I again humbly ask for your good humor and patience and ask that you read this email and consider its message.
In November, I will be participating in the AIDS Marathon in Florence, Italy, raising vital funds for the San Francisco AIDS Foundation. I have committed to raising at least $4,200 dollars and I'd like to exceed $5,000+. Hopefully, I can hit the mark. Last year, we raised over $10,000 with AIDS/LifeCycle, so I'm confident we can do this.
My friends and family are engaged and active participants in creating positive social change. I am just acting as a reminder or vehicle for action. I hope that you will once again join me.
I run, I bike, I must. This will be my second season of the AIDS Marathon. Can't believe it was five years ago I ran in celebration of my 40th year and fifth year of being positive.
Five years later, still here, as is AIDS. Not an easy five years, much life transition, money issues and recently some minor pesky immune issues.
I run to raise funds for people who so vitally need the services that were there for me.
I run to regain my power, my sense of hope and joy.
I run to create a world where assumptions about living with HIV are challenged. A world that does not stigmatize a disease. A world safer, more knowledgable for my niece & nephew.
And yes, I run to carve some blubber of my love handles. Actually, that's just a nifty perk. But those other reasons?
That's why I run.
It is our obligation to share our great good fortune. Please consider joining me in this next life-affirming adventure. No Body Glide, DryWick or Band Aids on your nipples required. I'll take care of those...
Below, a portion of my ALC letter, as well, to further explain my double participation in such a short period of time:
This paragraph is where I should say poignant things and make you feel the need for the event. But, with this being my 12th year of participation, I've kind of said it all before. What can I say except that it's still so vitally necessary, that people need to ride bikes extraordinary distances just to keep friends and family alive. Kind people. Many of these people not normally active. It's not easy, it is commitment, drive, compassion. Your family, friends, neighbors--all connected, we are all our brother's keepers. I decided to challenge myself in a new way this year, by becoming a recurring donor at Keep a Child Alive. For $30 bucks a month, the price of just one of my 60 antiviral pills I take in a month, I am providing a month's supply of antivirals for someone in Africa. I can't give up two weeks of Biggie Diet Cokes so that a child can live? Of course I can! The extraordinary, prohibitive costs of health insurance and antiviral regimens here in the US makes this journey necessary.
Still Necessary.
Namaste
I Honor the God in You.
Craig
AIDS Marathon Florence 2007 Runner #5053, ALC Rider #4147, SFAF Client, HIV+ over 12 years, a pain in the ass for far longer
P.S. Please forward this page to your friends and family; they can just click or cut-n-paste this link and make a secure, online donation: https://www.sfaf.org/give/marathon.cfm?e=FL07&f=Craig&l=Hermes&n=5053
Think pro-karma spam! Delicious.
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