Forced in the Silence to Listen

Thank you to member S. Renee Mitchell for sharing her thought-provoking poetry with ninety-nine girlfriends and the world.

Forced In The Silence to Listen

when this threat of harm has passed whether through death disease or determined intention my goal is to be different more purposeful more aware

today I am allowing seemingly immaterial moments to become a mirror

inform me of the ways I need to

adjust fine tune & confess the names of people I should forgive

with this forced silence prompted by an invisible enemy I am learning

& eusocial insects

to serve as sages

with open heart to turn inward to discover wisdom

love

who would have guessed the clamorous buzzing of bees which once stirred fear frustration fury even could teach life lessons about whom I decide to allow into my life whom to let go of & who to just let be

more & more I am asking myself what can those who are annoying

disrespectful callous & unkind
teach me about the peculiarities within myself

healing & to graciously

let go of the habit

to go outside of myself

for self-soothing

in each moment I can allow myself to get caught up

in the insistence

irritation & distraction of someone else’s way of being

- or -

I can unattach to an outcome

decide not to uncomfortably shift deliberately swat

or demand they be different I am becoming better at recognizing that heated words

are emotional billboards

hiding in plain sight displaying a longing to be seen

heard to feel safe & anger absence annoyance is sometimes / most times

ALL times just an expression of distress tightly wrapping itself

around the weight of anxiety or the horror of relentless ruminations

your buzzing about is rarely ever about me

& not even a worldwide crisis will prompt some folks

like most humans bees cooperate in the caring for one another each bee’s existence leverages an intentional interconnectedness an individual contribution toward the collective good

as they collect nectar to make honey their rapid wing-beats stir vibrations that agitate a plant’s pollen which fertilizes the next visited flower

eventually bees return to the hive carrying reserves to feed the larvae & even though most die before the fruit of their labor is realized reciprocity is mutual survival

to show affection beyond

their capacity to love themselves folks can’t give you something they don’t possess

or graciously receive something

they don’t believe they deserve

so I am listening better now yesterday I could easily

so consider, if you wil

the next time you are confronted with an irritating animation of energy you have a choice, you know

each encounter with another

have found blame

and assigned it a home

is an opportunity for an unfolding of a new truth an invitation to re-see reality

but today I chose to choose differently I decide to see purpose

& pose a self-reflective question which can shape one’s becoming:

in our crossed paths

a deeper reason

for our relationship a richer purposefulness for our friendship

am I hearing or am I listening?

© 2020 S. Renee Mitchell

A Different Harvest

This August, in the loneliness of quarantine, I sold the farm in Yamhill County where I had lived for almost thirty years and moved into the city. The fruit trees my toddlers helped me plant were in the bountiful glory of their maturity. Livestock sheds, pasture rotations, and manure management had all been honed to clockwork function. Planning and labor and more than two decades of growth had brought the farm and me to the time of harvest, but instead of pressing cider and filling the basement pantry with jams and pickles, I filled two dumpsters with the odds and ends a farm and family collects.

I had thought I would always live there, and I relished the accumulation of seasons and my ever-growing intimacy with the old forest at my back. But my children grew up and moved on, and my husband and I reached the end of our road together. For the last five years, I managed the farm alone. Feeding animals twice a day, cleaning the barn and keeping up with the weeding and pruning and the maintenance of a large old house became harder to sustain and justify. Still, every plant in the sprawling garden had been placed by my hand. The wildflowers that bloomed in the forest persisted because I kept the ivy at bay. What real distinction was there between me and my place? How could I ever leave?

As if I would live forever. As if the farm would last forever. The truth was, I would leave that farm one way or another. Dead or decrepit or sooner, through catastrophe or thoughtful design.

I chose thoughtful design, and I think of this radical change in my life as practice for the changes I will meet in a radically changing world. We all face a future we might not have imagined, one that is different from the future we had planned for. We can hang on, pretending until circumstances end the game, or we can take stock and seek new opportunities and a new way of doing things.

Do I miss the farm? The way I miss childhood, fondly but with no real desire to return. I’m cultivating a new love and a new household, in a strange new neighborhood filled with people and dogs wearing raincoats. For now, the farm still grows in the shape I gave it. May it prosper! The farm will always live in me as I ripen the seeds planted by my engagement with it. I saw an owl in the middle of the afternoon down on 22nd and Johnson. A pack of crows pointed it out, those perennial tattle-tales. The owl, imperturbable despite the scolding, was not to be turned away. But as I age, I grow less fierce and less determined. My harvest is different than I once imagined, not the comfort of hearth and home but the ripe experience that bears new seeds. I hope to be ready, with an open heart and open mind, for whatever’s next.

— Jane Carlsen

Unbridled Joy

Yesterday, I was letting my dog out for the twelfth time in less than 30 minutes so she could chase a squirrel in our backyard.  I was muttering about this not helping me get my work done.  I was thinking about the paw cleaning that would be required (again) when Cindi  wanted to come back in.  

I also realized I was smiling.  Not grinning; a full-on, whole face smile--because Cindi approaches squirrel-chasing with unbridled joy.  Unfettered  jump, wriggle, run, bark each and every time.  It doesn’t matter if it is the first chase of the morning or chase 25 of the day, she is equally and gloriously excited.

Most days I seek contentment, calm, a sense of purpose, a way to stay grounded as time continues to be wobbly and the world swirls out of my control. I have actively happy moments of dancing while making dinner or singing  or laughing at something one of my kids just said...   But unbridled joy isn’t something I experience ofen, and living it vicariously through my dog is a gift.

Cindi isn’t shy about seeking her joy.  If she doesn’t feel we are paying enough attention to her requests to go out (or come back in) she jumps repeatedly on the sliding glass door.  We have paw and nose prints going up to four feet high on both sides of the door.  If that doesn’t work, she will seek you out, dance on you or around you.  

Once outside, the best description I have to offer is an antelope or Max, the dog in “How the Grinch Stole Christmas” when he is leaping and soaring. Gravity seems to disappear, overtaken by boundless happiness and zeal.

What amazes me most is that her happiness is not tied to achieving a goal or novelty. She revels in the activity itself. She doesn’t care about catching the squirrel. Honestly, it doesn’t even matter if there even is a squirrel. Sometimes she chases invisi-squirrels.  Sometimes she runs to the wrong tree, stands looking up and barking. Meanwhile the squirrel looks on with  disdain from a different tree. She chases the same three squirrels who live in our yard (PJ, Gus and Mr. Blue Sky) up the same three trees and down the same fence every time.   

Cindi has something to teach us all. Here’s to more unbridled joy in each of our lives.

— Kaye Gardner O’Kearny 

Be Afraid and Do It Anyway

Several years ago, I started using this motto, “Be Afraid and Do It Anyway.”  A friend  had stage 3 cancer, and you know what happens when you get that wakeup call that says, “What am I waiting for?” It’s served me well, especially when I listen to my heart. 

Most recently my partner and I purchased a farm in Gaston, Oregon, and we have been busy making it our own. We both want to learn to grow our own healthy food in hopes of being able to share it with the community. There are hundreds of reasons to grow locally, organically and sustainably, and not a darn one that I can think of not to do it. Except, of course, that it involves a lot of unknowns and is a lot of hard work. Hence the motto. We pushed through the soggy spring with muddy boots to make sure we had a garden area ready for summer. We bought 20 baby chicks in April and raised them to be egg layers. We are putting in a goat barn and fence with the goal of one day offering an eco-friendly goat-brush-clearing service.  

I’m happy to report that we now have more tomatoes and squash than we can eat. We’ve offered up our excess on the Forest Grove free classified Facebook group and the community has responded with a demand that I find both heartwarming and heartbreaking. People want organic, fresh produce and there are hungry families out there. It was scary to put the offer out there - will they come? They did. We will keep going. We are already talking about what we will do differently next year.

 We’ve also eaten our very first three eggs, and they were yummy. We don’t have enough to share yet, but by October we should be getting about a dozen a day. We are looking at how those eggs find their way to deserving customers. We will sell some in order to give some away. Raising chickens feels a bit scary, too.  It’s a big responsibility, taking care of them, keeping them safe from predators and getting up every day (early) to let them out. I love watching them and learning their chicken behaviors and the funny thing is I find them very calming. Maybe there is a chicken therapy offering in my future? 

In my spare time, I’m an Executive Leadership Coach and I also work for Social Venture Partners Portland running the Encore Fellows Program. My partner is an Early Childhood Education teacher at Adelante Mujeres. When the garden and chickens are all quiet we also collect toys and shoes for Latino kids in need in Oregon and Mexico. It’s not a nonprofit yet, but someday maybe it will be if we follow the motto, “Be Afraid and Do It Anyway!”

Grateful and constantly inspired to be a part of Ninety Nine Girlfriends.

— Linda K. Williams

Your Brain on Walking

Remember the PSA “This is your brain on drugs”? I’ll never forget it. Commercials seemed so much better when I was younger. There were great jingles that have stuck with me for decades and those Rainier Beer spots were so clever. I think we need a new PSA: “This is your brain on walking.” 

Part of my wellness routine is a daily walk—alone or with others—rain or shine. It’s a habit that began in the mid-’80s when a knee injury ended my running habit. (Amen! Truth to be told, I did NOT enjoy anything about the running except the high I got when I stopped.) 

That’s why my friend Amy Varga’s recent LinkedIn post “Sorry, I have a walk scheduled then” really resonated with me. I know that I’m more alert, focused and creative when I get my walk in, but it wasn’t until I talked with Amy about her post that I got to thinking about how helpful it could be to share the benefits of walking. Hoofing it is an especially valuable activity during the pandemic if you are able-bodied and have access to a safe space outside with good air quality.

Amy owns The Varga Group, a Portland-based firm that offers leadership coaching along with other important services for non-profit organizations. These days, she is primarily being asked for leadership coaching. Amy sees this as an opportunity to help leaders ask how they are taking care of themselves. “For nonprofit folks, depending on their mission, everyone feels like the stakes are high and there is so much stress,” she explained. “Psychological boundaries can be especially hard for them because oftentimes they are asking themselves how they can prioritize taking care of themselves over providing services to others.”  

Amy suggests a different lens. So much leadership development focuses on the neck up, but our physical self has an impact on our ability to think and work. “We need to prioritize sleep, hydration, and physical exertion—they are as important as our other competencies. It’s crucial to recognize that, although we are all doing our best and working at our jobs and more, we are also doing this other body of work which is attending to the stress of the moment—and it’s no small task.” 

We cannot serve others as well if we are exhausted, distracted or depressed. And in this time of confinement, we all need some kind of escape valve. Amy suggests carving out some time to reflect on what is and is not serving you and your wellness. Do more of the prior and give the latter the boot. 

How are you taking care of yourself? Got time for a walk? it could benefit you in a multitude of ways and It doesn’t cost money, you don’t need any fancy clothes to do it, and if you’re keeping your distance from others you don’t even need a mask. 

— Tammy Wilhoite

Me with my friend Claire on a pre-pandemic walk

Amy and her workout partner, Gus

Breathe

I love quotes. I end nearly all of my emails with a quote that I think somehow connects to the content of the email. Quotes can be both inspiring and fun. They start conversations. They provoke thought.

One of my all-time favorites is Terri Guillemets’ “The wisest one-word sentence? Breathe.” 

This quote is even more thought-provoking now, in the face of the deaths of George Floyd and Eric Garner and the others who had their breath stolen from them by people who didn’t value their lives.

Then there’s COVID-19, which has ended many lives by attacking the lungs of grandmas and grandpas and parents and siblings, making breathing impossible.

And there are environmental quality issues stealthily impacting the air we breathe.

As a student and advocate of meditation I believe that, at this time of great stress and upheaval, one of the smartest things we can do is breathe. Breathe slowly and deeply and then do it again and again and again and while you’re breathing remember what a privilege it is to draw another breath.

“If you want to conquer the anxiety of life, live in the moment, live in the breath.” ― Amit Ray, Om Chanting and Meditation

— Tammy Wilhoite

Giving Rise to R.I.S.E.

In December, 2018, ninety-nine girlfriends provided five organizations with “Core Mission” awards of $12,200. That’s a pittance compared to the $100,000 the groups originally applied for, but it was a boost nonetheless. Here’s how the Core Mission funds helped the Virginia Garcia Foundation. 

The Virginia Garcia Memorial Foundation is the financial and community-support backbone of  the Virginia Garcia Health Center. Their 50,000-plus Washington and Yamhill County annual clients speak more than 60 languages and include farmers, small business owners, domestic and childcare workers, and migrant and undocumented workers. They face economic, racial and social barriers as well as challenges to access to health care, transportation, food and housing. Virginia Garcia Health Center and its 600 employees offer a vast list of services to help their clients overcome these obstacles.

State and local policymakers often have a remote relationship with their constituents. But the  staff of Virginia Garcia have a “boots on the ground” perspective because they work directly with their clients. They not only assess problems, they find solutions. To give them a voice and tap into their collective power, Policy and Advocacy Officer Felicita Monteblanco designed a five-month training program called “RISE: Reach. Inspire. Support. Engage” to educate Virginia Garcia staff  in policy making and advocacy.

Ninety-nine girlfriends’ $12,200 grant helped give rise to R.I.S.E., and the impact is already being felt. At least five R.I.S.E. graduates have joined public boards, councils, commissions and committees, one sought a City Council seat in the City of Newberg and many more are now armed with the knowledge, skills and power to enact real change in their communities. 

— Marcy Newton