healing

Thanksgiving and Always Gratitude for the Gifts of and from Sam

by Sheila Finkelstein on November 24, 2011

          sam charcoalportrait 1961 Thanksgiving and Always Gratitude for the Gifts of and from Sam                     Sam 11 02 200 Thanksgiving and Always Gratitude for the Gifts of and from Sam                                    
Photo on Left is Charcoal Portrait of Sam Finkelstein done by Chester Bloom in 1961. Photo on Right is Sam in Restaurant at Dinner Party in November, 2002, prior to move from NJ to Florida in December.

The Gift of Sam – Eternally grateful for my beloved Sam
The gifts from Sam to me were, and are, countless, some beyond measure:

The gift of unconditional love,
The gift of me,
The gift of my being “Number 1”, always and forever in his life, his heart.

The gift of love beyond measure for me, his sons, daughters-in-law and grandchildren
The gift of acceptance of what could not be changed
The gift of words, words that surface and sustain me even now, some from 51 years ago.

The gift of always being supportive
The gift of countless hours in the darkroom honoring the photos I took of my students and their work
The gift of non-judgment and always being present

The gift of goodness, generosity and love
The gift of a seeing eye, that complemented mine
The gift of partnership and belief in me, in us

The gift of sweetness, tenderness and caring
The gift of humor, commitment and action
The gift of belief

The gift of caresses, soft and tender, with special smiles
The gift of Being, accepting and caring
for him, for me, for all peoplees in the world.

Gentle and compassionate, count-on-able and always there
The gift of life
Despite his death
His honoring of me lives on!

Forever grateful for it all, blessed to have been the recipient of so much, I express my gratitude to you, my Beloved, and all those who helped make you into the forever kind and always man who you were for us, and for your contributions to our world.

And, though I pang at times for things I didn’t do, for ways I was and wasn’t and the “could have’s” done more and better’s, the incessant mind chatter that still surfaces from time to time, I have the greatest gift of all from you, the knowing that, no matter what, I had your love and you had mine!

Eternal gratitude is both of ours.  Remembering it and you this eve of Thanksgiving that marks the 4th year that you have been physically gone from me, from us.

Always love, my Beloved.

NOTE, Prefacing Today’s writing:
Yesterday, 11/22,  in the Wild Woman Writers Group in which I’m a participant, I wrote the following in response to a timed writing prompt.  The calendar date of Sam’s death is 11/21. The day of the week that year in 2007 was the eve of Thanksgiving.

Hmm. Is what’s sticking me my not having spent time writing yesterday honoring Sam, telling him how grateful I was and am for all he contributed to my life? Oh, my darling, is it even necessary to write or do you and I both know it?

Hmm. I’m evidently thinking words, which are so important to me, were not spoken out loud enough. The feelings were taken for granted not always even identifiable by me.  How easy is to recognize the feeling of pleasure. The feelings of love are so much more intangible, elusive for expression beyond the romantic type words, the standard always used one.

Is is sufficient to simply know love, without words?

{ 4 comments }

Writing Prompt – Blessings in Front of Me

by Sheila Finkelstein on September 24, 2010

I had a full “plate” of classes and “to-dos” today and once again I got a nudge at 11:30 AM to finish the call I was on and drop in on Julie Jordan Scott’s WRITING CAMP. From my experience of being in the spaces that Julie creates, I know something is bound to open up for me. I my not always know what it is or will be and I was surprised today to find that memories of Sam flowed from my, interestingly, red pen. Was the “red” for my heart?

The prompt “Blessings in front of my right now“; the floor and the tiles that take me anywhere I want to go in my house: to the riches or the distractions; to 3 carpeted rooms, two of which house my MacIntosh computers; the other my bed for rest and memories of Sam, of being held closely, tightly, lovingly and being gently caressed on the flesh of my abdomen when I lay on my back.

I hated this. It brought my attention and awareness to what I felt was an excess of fat, more pronounced, for me, with his caresses. I always stopped him, removed his hand; never thought to ask what pleasure he derived from this. Too late now.

My writing continued, given there was more time before the timer had Julie state, “Complete your thought and end for now.” I continued writing about the pot in front of me, in the center of the floor, remaining from a fire ritual I did last night, celebrating the Fall Equinox. And that story is unimportant here.

Suffice it to say, “Life does go on and we can continue to find richness and blessings if we put ourselves out in communities which support us.” Thank you, Julie.

{ 2 comments }

Valentine’s Day – Sadness, Taking Action, Counting Blessings

by Sheila Finkelstein on February 14, 2010

Today is Valentine’s Day and all around it seems people are acknowledging the “heart” day… Subject lines in emails, Twitter posts, probably on Facebook also.

My friend Marifran Korb has written some wonderful posts on Celebrating Valentine’s Day, including most importantly celebrating ourselves.  She wrote: “Make a commitment to fall in love over and over again with YOURSELF. Love is a commitment, not a feeling.” Valentine’s Day, Part 3, with lots of great ideas.  AND, I wanted NO part of any of it!

Sam and I never much celebrated Valentine’s Day as a holiday.  I’d like to think we celebrated our love daily. Despite this, on the subconscious level, I think, sadness had been setting in as I was reading tags and posts.

I’m here now at my computer with sporadic tears welling in my eyes, some  passing down over my cheeks.   It’s more than two years since my beloved Sam has left this Earth and, though my life is full, sometimes it seems even lonelier than it was  in the days and year after he died. (Why is it so hard to say that word – “die?”)

So how do we handle the tears, the sadness.  “Write,” I say. And, unintentionally I did.  A young mother in the Conscious Business Owners coaching group of which I am a part, was querying her wanting to be with her young sons, concerned that her business would pull her away from that which was most important to her.

One of the other group members wrote: “For me personally, I think my resentment of not having outside contact would have been somehow translated into our relationships in a negative way. So find a balance that will work for you but remember there is another child who has needs–you.”

That sparked me to write my own response (see end of this post) and though the tears started welling up even more, I found I was in action… My number one RX for healing… or easing the moments.

1.  After I wrote the email, I decided it would make a good blog post and possibly turn into a podcast for the Become a Blogging Maniac course in which I am a participant.

2.  Reflecting on one of the things missing in the moment, I saw “family closeness”, so I called my son who lives 1/2 hour from me. Upon hearing my sadness he invited me to visit and my “daughter-in-love”, immediately got on the phone and compassionately said, “Come to dinner.” (Thank you twitter friend Mary Morris, marylmorris, for introducing me to the concept/phraseology of “daughters-in-love.” I have two.)

As I take each of these steps and more, I am grateful for the past and present blessings in my life.

If you are someone who is grieving the absence of a loved one, I invite you to also be in action with whatever will best occupy and forward you.  Be sure to look for that in your life for which you can be thankful.

And, if you are someone who is blessed to currently have everyone important to you in your life alive and well, I invite you to stop to make note of the memories you can add to your Treasure Chest of life and acknowledge them now.  One of my blessings is that I have so many beautiful messages Sam wrote to me.

Speaking of writing, I’m moved to include a treasured photographic memory, that brings back the warmth and comfort of our relationship.

writingfeet Valentines Day Sadness, Taking Action, Counting BlessingsSmiling at the memory – See PICTURE TO PONDER – Issue 108 for the story.

From my EMAIL REPLY (see explanation above) that triggered this post:

“For me, M, your response to S was ‘right on’.  I’m reminded of the times I used to say guiltily (those little self-sabotaging demons kicking in) that I wasn’t the “Milk and Cookies” Mom AND my sons turned out great!!! They are wonderful husbands, in marriages that are each loving and stable, and fathers to  4 wonderful, bright, loving children.

When my sons were very young, I was quite involved with numerous volunteer activities and  then went back to college, finishing two years in an art education program.  I would often take my boys to one of the studios when I went up for extra work.  I still have etchings (real ones on metal plates) that they did  when they were 5 and 8.

I recall my younger son complaining, when he wanted to throw some “guilt” at me, about the times he’d have to come home to make
his own lunch so he could run back to school to play kickball. (Doesn’t sound too tragic, does it, given he’s mentioning the “play” part also?)

Whenever guilt would kick in for me over the years, I would remind myself, and continue to do so, how well my/our sons turned out -
a tribute, I say, to the ultimate love and security that was in our home, with two loving parents who were comfortable in their own
skin (usually) with what they were doing for self-fulfillment, as well as familial fulfillment.

S, it certainly sounds like you have your husband behind and with you. THAT is the MOST IMPORTANT thing that your sons will
see.  In addition to all the love they are and will be getting, they will have the experience of two adults being true to themselves.

I am deeply missing my husband, and those years long gone, as I complete writing this.  And, I am grateful for the blessing Sam’s and my life was  together  and for the next-generation two loving families that we seeded.

Treasure these years, S, remembering to treasure yourself and your needs also.”

{ 9 comments }

Dreams and Visions from September 2005

by Sheila Finkelstein on December 11, 2009

I just came across this on one of my sites and thought it belonged here… one of those teary moments and some of the writing might have been healing then.  The reading and remembering is now part of the healing process.

9/14/05 – I have participated in many very powerful programs with Julie Jordan Scott.  Currently I am in Julie’s Dream Activation Program, see DREAMS and in a writing program of hers.  Part of the 42 days of Dream Activation is sharing one’s dreams and having them witnessed.  Today I shared my expression around my dreams.

SamBlowsKisses Dreams and Visions from September 2005
Sam Finkelstein Blowing Kisses at the Surprise 45th Wedding Anniversary Party given for us by our sons and their families – 8/27/05 

DREAMS for Dream Activation Witnessing - September 14, 2005

I came into this Dream Activation program after it started, stating that I do not really have dreams, at least not any that I can put my fingers on/around.

Last night, I read the statement On VISION, in ATTITUDE OF GRATITUDE (p. 14) by Keith Harrell.  He speaks of it, stating that “A vision can’t fail if you do the right thing.”  He goes on to say, “The most critical first step is understanding your purpose in life and developing a personal vision.  A personal vision consists of knowing what you want to do, for whom, and for what purpose.”

I’m thinking that I was equating Dreams with Vision and I have not specifically defined what I want to do for whom and for what purpose.

In order to prepare for my share today, I needed to write about my husband and create a clearing.  So two nights ago I wrote and then, in Julie’s Special Writing Program yesterday which I’ve also just joined, the second part of what’s up for me seemed to fall in place.

To lay the foundation, I want to share what I first wrote.  Sam, my beloved husband, was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease 8 1/2 years ago and in the past year, communication, getting his thoughts out, has become quite difficult at times and we’ve had some other intermittent challenges. And so I wrote -

DREAMING

I dream of things that can never be, or no longer be.  I dream of Sam and I being able to travel, to take the cruises he desires, to walk the beaches with him at my side.  I dream of our having extended conversations, many of which we never had.

I dream of being sweet, loving and compassionate with him, not the ranting bitch that emerges from time to time…sometimes frequent times.

I dream of his initiating, generating, and my being able to lean on him, depend on him, though I’d protest it along the way.

I dream of people helping him, engaging him, enlivening him…things that I have no patience for.  I dream of letting go of resentment and forgiving myself for not spending more AND quality time with him.

I notice I keep saying “him.”  My mother used to hate when I, or anyone, referred to her as “her.”   “Him” is Sam, my beloved, who has put up with so much with me, always putting me first before himself, or anyone else.

Though he often protested, at least initially, on things I started, new and innovative, he ultimately was always there for me, supporting me.  And with it all, bottom line, in whatever way, I am always there for him.

If I’d see myself through Sam’s eyes I’d be quite accomplished, tackling huge projects, as yet unknown and undefined.

Right now I dream of peace and ease, of having it all – luxury unlimited, money and resources, all without having to put out much effort.

I dream of communities of people interacting purposefully and with love.

I dream of people making discoveries and being excited by what they do.

I dream of having, being in a close knit community, with friends who energize and excite me and themselves.

I dream of books not yet written, 2 at least, though I know not what they are.

I dream of being famous, for what I do not know.

I dream of connections – people being connected for whatever they need.

I dream of a clutter-free environment, of a staff to tend to all of our needs – cooking, cleaning, organizing.

At one point I dreamed of watching sunrise over the ocean, while lying in bed, opening the drapes with a remote control. That dream also had woods and streams in the back of the house where we could see sunset and workshops for an artists’, actually corporate workers’, retreat.  The latter is no longer part of my dream.  Is it resignation or simply that I’ve moved in different directions?

And so my writing concluded the other night and I thought I’d search through my writings in my Picture to Ponder almost-daily ezine (now weekly) to find the points I seem to emphasize and thus get a handle on where I’m standing.

Then I experienced more free flow writing, with Julie yesterday.

The final prompt for the session was THE GIFT I GIVE TO MY READERS IS. . .and I wrote, 

“The gift I give my readers is the opportunity for them to discover the richness in their worlds, the beauty of what’s in their physical spaces, the visions they have, perhaps as-yet unknown, in their souls…

the words, the tools, the ways of interconnecting to their selves and to each other, the people in their lives whom they’ve met and not yet met.

The gift I give to my readers is the beauty of knowing and believing in themselves.

And, I’m reminded that in “mission statements” for jobs in varying fields was always some form of supporting/empowering people in believing and themselves.

It’s who I be in my actions.  Is it a Vision?  A dream?  I don’t know.”

Note for those new to this blog – My beloved Sam passed away on 11/21/07, see REMEMBERING SAM, and as I put this together on 1/7/09 I am struggling with what new dreams I can create. The dreams listed after those I had of life with Sam certainly can act as inspiration for me, they are and came from someplace within as did THE GIFT I GIVE MY READERS as spelled out above.

{ 3 comments }

Rainbow Soul and Tears – Storms in Life – Timed Writing Prompts

by Sheila Finkelstein on September 1, 2009

rainbowtearsmugs Rainbow Soul and Tears Storms in Life Timed Writing Prompts

“The soul would have no rainbows if the eyes had no tears.” Laurel Burch

This quote is on a mug that I purchased from Amazon shortly after Sam died. During those first few difficult months, I gave myself permission to buy little, what for me were, “luxury items” as comforts for my soul, I suppose.

I do have have several Laurel Burch mugs and hadn’t seen them since we moved here. The beauty of the image on this one initially drew me in and, even more importantly for me, the writing in the center of the mug was a reminder of tears… that tears are ok. Only I wasn’t doing much crying, permission or not. So that’s the story behind my having introduced the quote to our [writing] group today..

“Rainbows, I’m forever chasing,” I stated the other day when I went chasing a beautiful rainbow (to photograph) after a violent thunder storm. It seems to me that perhaps the most beautiful rainbows come after turbulent storms rather than gentle rains.

Does my soul , thus, need turbulence to have rainbows in it? Does it need to have the tears to create whatever combination creates a rainbow? Beautiful colors? Shapes? Purity?

(and the 4 minute timer called the end….Interestingly, for me, the next prompt somewhat continued the “conversation.”)

“Life isn’t about waiting for the storm to pass… It’s about learning to stand in the rain.” - Anonymous

This one brings up immediate memories… tearful ones now…of the hurricane of a couple of years ago. I recently came across photos of Sam sitting in my closet… me, too, when I got back in to join him after taking the photo. Close and secure, the two of us, as we waited for the hurricane and its threats to pass over.

Though we weren’t physically standing in the rain we were going with it, no protest, simply enjoying being with one another and whatever was going on… at least I’d like to think there was no fear there.

The effects of that hurricane left us powerless… in electricity that is.. for several days. And we got to appreciate being in the present. Instead of complaining I treasured the time for reading, resting, eating gooshy strawberries that had defrosted and were still cold when I took them out of the cooler.

How glad I was to have Sam with me, my companion, my lover, and, I guess,we were learning to stand in the rain of our lives over several years… the rain being the effects of Parkinson’s disease on him and, thus, us.

PS – For cheer when I bought the Rainbow Soul mug I also bought Laurel Burch’s Ponies and Parrots mug from Amazon -poniesandparrotsmug Rainbow Soul and Tears Storms in Life Timed Writing Prompts Final note on this post – Having created a miraculous life of beauty and love with her art and color and entrepeneurship, despite constant pain and broken bones, Laurel Burch sadly passed away at the age of 61. See her spirit and process in a 6-minute VIDEO interview. You can also read about her life on the same SITE.

{ 7 comments }

Finding Direction Using Writing and Photography – NaBloPoMo Day 15

by Sheila Finkelstein on August 2, 2009

Two weeks ago, I decided to sign up for NaBloPoMo, National Blog Posting Month (can start any time) and made an agreement, mainly with myself, to do a blog post daily for 30 days. I decided to do this as a way of creating a structure and some self-discipline for myself.

Right now, I have two somewhat active blogs. Since I had not been posting much on Writing for Healing, I thought this challenge would be way to build it. The challenge I’m finding is that I do not have a set intention, other than to post. When I set up the blog, I thought it would be a good idea to reach, particularly caregivers, actually anyone who is mourning a loss. Mourning a loss does not necessarily mean there has to be a physical “death”, though I guess there is some form of “dying” off of something that had been a certain way, “lived” a certain way.

I would often say to my husband, as we lay in bed at night, “I miss you.” In retrospect this, I’m sure, was not the kindest thing to say to him, since I’m sure he missed himself, his “normalcy” and what we were able to do in the past. There wasn’t anything he, or I, could do about it. At those times I was, particularly, missing his ability to communicate freely and to easily roll over in bed and hold me in the way he had for 40 plus years.

As I’ve mentioned in earlier posts, the biggest toll Parkinson’s Disease took on Sam was his ability to vocalize the words that were right there in his head. Also though he fortunately was able to walk easily, he did have some rigidity in freedom of motion in other positions.

My wandering here today is an example of writing without a specific intention… or perhaps many. Back to my original underlying purpose of this blog, supporting others in finding their healing processes through writing. When I think of that, I’m left with the questions, “Should I be telling? Teaching? Simply sharing writing?” I started to take the “easy” way and share writings I had already done.

Today, I had the thought, “Why am I focussing here, when the thing I most love is taking photographs?” Thus I’m taking on posting a photo daily on Photography and Transformation.com. Today’s post is a Weathered Wall, which might well inspire writing and perhaps healing writing, I thus invite you to visit a Weathered Wall – Photography for Meditation.

You might experience the riches of nature in addition to mourning the passing of what might have been before.

{ 0 comments }

Words Bite – Do the Feelings Remain? NaBloPoMo Day 14

by Sheila Finkelstein on August 2, 2009

“They may forget what you said, but they will never forget how you made them feel.” Carl W. Buechner

Once again, Sam comes up. I hope he forgot what I said and forgot how I made him feel in the moment.  When I screamed and yelled and cursed, he hated the “f” word. He felt like “sh” I know.  Sometimes he said it.  So the feeling was there.  And, thankfully, I think he did forget how I made him feel in those moments or he wouldn’t have been able to put up with it.

I’ll rest in peace and he is too, I’m sure, knowing that most of the feelings he would never forget are those of being loved and cherished, as was I, most of our times together,  throughout our 47 1/2 years of marriage.

If we worry about everything we say, it can be very stifling. On the other hand, a good practice always is to think before we speak.  Though we may not think about the feelings, if we ask ourselves, “Will this make a difference?”,  it  will, obviously, have an effect on feelings.

4 minute writing – 10/21/08 – eleven months after Sam’s death. – What had surfaced in response to that quote were the memories of my anger. When I was in the midst of them, unfortunately, nothing else mattered. And, I was truly blessed that Sam understood, and accepted, what was going on with me during those moments.

{ 0 comments }

Ode to a Piece of Cardboard – A Philosophy of Life – Writing motivated from Anger – NaBloPoMo Day 12

by Sheila Finkelstein on July 31, 2009

In earlier posts I’ve written how I have used Haiku,letters to the editor and writing from prompts, all as means to gain control over anger. Interestingly, though I am a visual artist, currently using my photography to inspire people to see things newly and in ways they’ve missed, when I am in the depths of a strong emotion, I immediately go to writing. Some of my most profound work has been written at such times.

When I taught Art in an elementary school, I worked from a cart, moving from classroom to classroom. My supplies and cart, when not in use, shared space in one of the school storage closets. Because I used a lot of different materials, my space in the closet was not always neat.

One day, on my way out to a graduate class, I passed the principal by the front entrance. I must have made some comment about the closet, for she stated, “A bomb can go off in your closet and no one would be any the worse for it!” I immediately became furious and ended up handling my rage by writing out at every red light on the way to my class. The following, turned out actually to be an expression of my life and still is what I stand for today.

I wrote:

ODE TO A PIECE OF CARDBOARD:
or, A Philosphy of Life

What’s a piece of cardboard?

It’s the base of a sculpture, or an
integral part of one.
It’s the support for an assemblage;
A cardboard loom for weaving.

It has form, or it is flat.
It’s a surface to work on–
To build a mask; to rest a tray as
plaster is poured;
To keep work safe, as it is moved from place to place.
It’s a support for the paper on which notes
are taken at a museum, on which observations
are drawn.

Skin it. See the corrugation.
Use it for line or texture in a collage.
Cut it with scissors.
Roll it.
Attach it.
Tape it. Glue it.
Build with it.
What more is it?

That is up to you.
You may make discoveries as yet unknown.
I am not the possessor of all knowledge,
all ideas.
I can be the source from which you can get help

to develop your own ideas, your
individuality, your uniqueness.

If I can, I will provide the materials that will
help you make your discoveries, to suggest
alternate possibilities if I can’t.
When you need it, I hope it is on hand.

All of my knowledge is available to you–
all of my expertise.

I hope that these experiences will help
you to use things frugally, with originality;
That sometimes when you are sparked
with an idea
You remember and are aware of potentials
and alternatives.

Pass a pebble, a rock, a shell, a leaf–
A new and different shape (real or in your mind)
Look at it. Touch it. Turn it over.
Return it to its home if you wish,
Or, let it send your mind and fingers flying
in a drawing or a painting.
Use it in a collage.

What’s a feather, a piece of cloth, a strange
shape, a can of nails, a box of scrap wood?

That’s up to you, my dear friend. . .
Up to you to collage your life a rich and vibrant one.

© 1977, 2002 Sheila Bakely Finkelstein

(Note – If you are wondering what happened insofar as the principal was concerned, I placed the typed poem on her desk the next morning before classes started. She never mentioned it to me AND she also never spoke to me about the closet.)

{ 2 comments }

Writing to Connect to Ourselves – NaBloPoMo Day 9

by Sheila Finkelstein on July 28, 2009

CONNECTION – “When I connect from my heart to my soul to you and to the paper, what I feel is:”

Peace and a way to move on.. move on from my thoughts, the jumble in my brain, perhaps the anxiety in my heart, in my body;

the tension which tightens across the birdge of my nose, clenches my teeth, tightens my jaw – all magically disappear;

I “know” all this. Why don’t I remember and move it out, let it flow freely, keep it going ongoingly?
(Starting quote is another from a course with Julie Jordan Scott, a few years ago. Above was written then, below now.)

The answer to freedom -
Remember the pen to the paper, the keys on the keyboard, tapping, bursting forth with symbols on my monitor. Therein are the connections, the openings.

{ 0 comments }

Insight into Personal Power and Calling – NaBloPoMo – Day 8

by Sheila Finkelstein on July 27, 2009

“Where your power and the needs of the world cross, there lies your calling.” Aristotle

So many talents have I, my dilemma, my sticking point. “Where are the needs of the world that are wanting to be fulfilled by which of my talents?”

What comes up now, as I write, is “beauty”. “Everyone wants beauty,” so my friends tell me. I see “beauty in the ordinary”, “the extraordinary”, everywhere. And I suppose, when I start seeing that as an unfulfilled need for people, I can market accordingly and feel my power, my calling.

I hear my mastermind buddies yelling “yea”, as I write, for they tell me this all the time I think right now it’s simply that I’m suddenly seeing it a fraction differently, as a place where I can stand, from which I can come.

Interestingly in a way it all also fits with the Pollyanna in me. She, above Nancy Drew, was my favorite childhood heroine, or book anyway. Maybe Pollyanna precede Nancy in my age scale. Pollyanna’s talent for seeing the good in everything is what became, I think, an underlying pathway for me to live my life.

(And so, once more, timed writing from a prompt has given me an opening. Is that not what healing is about? Creating new openings?)

{ 0 comments }

← Previous Entries