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

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.

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.

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

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

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.

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.

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

life's too short not to love catsup.

don't you just relish those childhood memories? Photo courtesy of our Polaroid Swinger.
Head courtesy of Beaver Cleaver.