Wide Open

Dear 2011,

Thank you for revealing and uncovering more of what I already knew

and didn't know...I knew.

Remembering.

Thank you for the gifts, the ones I did and didn't receive with grace.

As 2011 disappears, may 2011 wisdom seep deeper inside.

As walls die, and continue to fall.

As walls thin, and transform.

I am free...

...to be as I am.

This year my motto is about intense realism;

and seeing the light side of darkness.

I am with arms wide open

welcoming 2012.

With love,

JAS

"Every artist writes his own autobiography."
- Henry Ellis

A "Hunger Game" for Child Support

I've been reading "Hunger Games" by Suzanne Collins during the holiday break with my oldest daughter. I'd heard of the series, but hadn't felt an urge to pay attention to it until she started reading it. She bought it with her own money while out shopping with her grandma, my mother, at Target. It is a full circle.

Hunger Games. Where to begin. Where to go from here. It's inspired me to act on something buried deep inside from years ago. After many years of contemplation, stubbornness, false hopes and beliefs, on Tuesday, December 27th I sent the following letter:

Tomorrow...

Drinking In...Berlin Part 4 of 4

Happy Holidays!

As 2011 comes to an end, I am reflecting. Letting go of 2011 began on the 18th, my birthday. The time has been sweet surrender and readying for 2012.

It seems like ages since I've written here. It seems even longer since I was actually in Berlin. This is the last of the 4 which seems to have been a gatekeeper to writing anything else even though so much has been and is happening. In short, I've been tied up and consumed. Not literally. Smile.

My relationship with time is shifting. What was once held in a safe and knowing place is being stretched and thinned. My points of reference for it seem odd and different. Have you noticed? For example, what I did on December 1st seems like months ago, not 29 days. Time. Where are you?

Ok, Berlin. Drinking in...Berlin. This country has had me reflecting. Drinking. I've won Toastmaster contests with a 5-7 minute speech about drinking water. I am passionate about it. I believe in drinking water not only mentally, physically but also spiritually and philosophically too. Really, I do. Drinking water makes deep sense...to me. I've even thought about opening a water bar. Seriously. Ok you get the picture. I f'n love drinking water.

Beverage anyone?

In Berlin I drank at least one adult beverage a day, maybe two. It was nothing crazy, just some fun wheat beers and good wine. That was the first thing I noticed. I drank alcohol everyday. Ok. What else?

There was alcohol everywhere! Everywhere is a big word, but listen to this. I was standing in line waiting to checkout. I looked to my left, and where I'd normally see gum, candy, Starbursts, candy bars, mints, etc. there were little bottles of whiskey, vodka, gin etc. lined up at the top shelf, eye level. Really? I was shocked! Is it really that easy? Here in NC we have government run ABC marts with bars on the windows. Wow. Big diff. First I wonder how this culturally is impacting us, and then Carl Jung's philosophy around resisting and persisting comes to mind.

Alcohol...that mysterious liquid. It's elevating and depressing at the same time. To me, it's a little thing I like to have a bit of when I'm celebrating and flying high. It can have a grounding effect like that. Just a lil'. Wink, wink.

What else? The coffee was served a little cup at a time. Fresh.

And water? Omg...oodness. Big thick GLASS bottles...no plastic. It was served two ways, sparkling or still. I like it still.

No pop or soda.

Here's to drinking in...Berlin.

Salute...

The Inner and Outer Walls...Berlin Part 3 of 4

Berlin reminded me how control impacts our lives. Too much and you enter your own self constructed prison. Too little control on the turns and you crash and burn into the wall. What walls? Well...the seen and unseen walls of what we believe. Our nature. The unique essence of who we are...in all of it.

After checking into the hotel and showering, I went with a group on a 2-hour walking tour to KNOW the city a bit. The guide was from the United States, was easy to hear and rich with stories. What a storyteller. We saw and heard so much that time felt like it flew. I was in it. Really. I wasn't just politely listening, I was intently listening. There's a difference. That difference or indifference speaks volumes about our inner and outer worlds.

There were slices of history everywhere, I took pictures of statues, buildings, and scenes of people and city life. At one point we walked through the Holocaust memorial and then stood on top of Hitler's bunker remembering the past swirling around us in the wind and deep inside the Earth. On the other end we touched the Wall, heard stories of why and how it was constructed, how it was operated and guarded, saw checkpoint C...all for the inner and outer control of East Berlin.

Interestingly, in places like the airport I saw words like "strict" and "inspection". That amused me because they didn't feel strict and they didn't inspect me. In some ways they felt more free than...yeah.

Here's a story. My departure flight was something like 6:40 a.m.. Brutal. I arrived early (for me) checked in, went through security and then remembered something about a Starbucks. I asked and was told it was in the Main area. Oh. That was on the other side of security. I contemplated, and went for it.

I found the Starbucks at 5:45 a.m. and it was closed. It opened at 6:00 a.m.. Hmm... My flight would start boarding at 6:10 a.m.. Do I have time? Feeling a yes, I sat on the steps and...

waited for it. Some would have played it safe, controlled and returned to the gate. Not me.

I waited in the midst of the pull...of control.

Yes...I made my flight.

SoGoToTheEdge

Jennifer A. Shutwell

Returning to Innocence...Berlin Part 2 of 4

The cab ride was uneventful. The tone of the driver reminded me of New York. Fast and on the edges, alongside bicyclists without slowing down or moving over. Life in the fast lane with no fear or is that just being overly confident? I'm not sure.

The hotel was exquisite, filled with marble and granite floors, brushed steel, dark wood, natural colors with Enigma type music playing in the lobby.

The doors?? Solid, heavy and protective, while feeling warm and nurturing at the same time. The perfect blend of masculine and feminine energy...in a door. Wow.

The doors to the room...pushed inside. It's the little things that make life easier that I like so much.

The room was small, simple and elegant. Classy.

Unpacking was a breeze, and everything easily fit into a large closet with lots of hangers. I was sleepy, but decided not to sleep. It had been a rough sort of week that week...as I recall.

I laid on the bed and stared at the ceiling and remembered. I remembered what was going on in all of my life. The nooks and crannies, the seen and unseen, the pleasures and the pains. My insular.

I remembered the hidden being revealed.

We hide when we are uncomfortable with the truth. Or we hide when no one around is comfortable with the truth. I've hidden both ways, and you do too. We all do. The art is seeing it. Seeing ourselves in the light of the day and seeing ourselves in the dark of the night. Being transparent and true, light and dark, up and down, in and out.

Nothing is invisible forever. So no hiding, no masking, no pretending...this is the time to remember and return.

I see that in Berlin.

SoGoToTheEdge

Beautiful Berlin...Part 1 of 4

Before arriving in Berlin, I had wandering expectations. Having only read about Berlin in history books, and a few glimpses in movies, my views were slanted towards grey skies, cold tones and darkness.

Now it's my last night in Berlin, and this may be one of the sexiest cities I've ever visited. Very strong, sturdy, warm and cool at the same time, clean, fresh, disciplined, excellent food, and all with a dark past with a sense of atonement and heartfelt light in their eyes. Simply f'n gorgeous.

Traveling through Brussels from Philly, I felt the shift in energy upon arrival in the airport. I entered the fast moving crowd at the gate and finally realized we were all going through customs. There were no ropes, just file as you go. First come, first serve. After hundreds of people and about 10 minutes, it was my turn. They looked at my passport, looked at me, nodded a time or two, pressed the stamp thing and passed me through.

That was it? Really? No form? No questions? No pat down? I was FREE to go? After admiring a few shops on my way to the A terminal, I found the counter to print my next ticket, and I was off to Berlin.

While in the airport, I reminded myself to empty...repeatedly. No expectations. Clear my mind of presupposed impressions and let it all come through.

A bus picked us up, and drove us to the plane. The ride to Berlin was short compared to the leg from Philly to Brussels. Before I knew it, we were deplaning. A bus picked us up and drove us to our gate. The gate? If that's what you call it. We walked into a room with a conveyor belt and a couple minutes later our bags arrived. My first thought...I'm in a freakin' efficiency machine with no fear. Where was the control?

The vibe I felt? Trust.

I know, it's not nice to compare. But hey, who in the hell is the land of the free anyway? That was troubling me.

That's Berlin so far through my eyes...and like always, I'm sure we're all seeing a little bit different. There's more to come, stay tuned!

SoGoToTheEdge

A Foreigner In A Normal Church

Alone in a foreign city, I felt my breath suck in, and tears fill my eyes. My nose began to run, and then drip. I was struck. The message rang deep inside, and I felt a shift in my perspective.

Before that....

A week ago, I was wide awake at 2:30 am on a Sunday. Home was 13 hours earlier and a Saturday afternoon. I woke up starving and the restaurant buffet didn't begin for another 4 hours.

At some point it "dawned" on me that it was Sunday. I heard "maybe I'll go to church flit across my mind." Wait. I'm not home. Where could I go?

After breakfast, I asked the lady at the front lobby counter.

She said, "do you want a normal church?"
I said, "what's a normal church?"

Here I am in a foreign country where I can barely speak, hear, read, understand or communicate a thing, and she's asking me if I prefer normal...

The taxi dropped me in front, and the doors of the church were wide open. I could hear a man echoing a service, but I had no idea where to go. There wasn't a soul in sight. Finally I saw a couple arrive and slide in through some doors and I followed.

It looked like a viewing room and below there was a sea of people watching and listening to a man on a television/screen. First thought was, is this how they control the message and belief systems of the people? One man for all? No. The place was so crowded with lots of balconies, rooms and sections that this was how they ensured everyone could see and hear him.

I found a seat, and began my own thing. I closed my eyes, tuned in, felt my energy and the energy around me and began my blessing ritual. Dear God, please bless me. Please dissolve...etc.

After it ended, I found myself swept along with the people, until a local woman grabbed me. She spoke a little English and I heard "You a foreigner!" "Come!" Her smile was warm and her "tone" was eager and excited. She motioned she had to change clothes and she pulled me down to a room full of women doing the same. She felt me pull back, and she said, "it's okay, we're all women." Ok. Yes.

She tells me her name is Lucy and that she would take me to the mission center. The service with English wasn't until 11 am and it was only 9 am. Then she guides me to her car and motions for me to get in. I shrug and think...ok!

It was a short ride to the mission center where she made coffee and offered a jelly sandwich. We talked for over an hour with the English she knew. I was fascinated.

Finally the time came. The service.

Lucy guided me to the English section on the 5th floor along the side. That's where I saw the name of the church "Grace and Truth". Ok, sounds "normal". There were headphones and English hymns so we could hear the translator in English. The sermon was about Humility and it described:

"If you are lifted up, proud, boastful, or bragging, there is no room for God. Your cup is full."

I felt a wave wash over me, and tears filled my eyes. I really don't see myself as boastful, proud or the bragging type, but there was definitely something in it for me. I felt relief wash over me as goosebumps covered my body...

Thank you, thank you, thank you Lucy.

SoGoToTheEdge of THAT...

JAS