why i love her

i don't love my gramma just cuz i have to. i don't love her because without her i wouldn't be alive. and i don't love her for making the best rice pudding, meatballs, pineapple cake, and smores on the planet. i love her because of what she's been telling me the past few years.

when i moved to sedona in the fall of 2005, that's when it started. she turned into this ultra-supportive wise woman, encouraging me to do what i love, live it up, be happy, etcetera, etcetera.

"growing old isn't for sissies. do what you want now, while you're still young. have fun. do everything you can now."

prior to this, i don't remember her being that way. most of what i remember her saying was either worries over the state of the world we're living in or worries over what she was going to feed me when i visited.

today i called her. it had been several months. i like calling randomly, not for any special occasion. but the last time i called was for her birthday in may, i think. and today, in addition to the above messages, she also said, "sometimes a good relationship is better than a marriage. what do you think?"

well, i was a little speechless. and smiling. but also wondering if i should be disturbed, wondering if she was saying that because of her own marriage. i didn't tell her that one of the main reasons i got a divorce was because i didn't want to end up like her. i love my grandparents, but their marriage is not one that serves as a good example.

so i just tell her, "yes. sometimes a good relationship is better than a marriage. and i don't know if i'll ever get married again."

and then she surprises me by saying something like, "look, becky, you can do whatever you want. what you do with your life is up to you." and the way she says it is so pure and supportive. i see it written here and recognize that it could come across as negatively. but it wasn't like that. it was beautiful.


© 2009 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

if this wig could talk, i'd have to get out the duct tape

I'm sitting on my couch brushing out my wigs, even though I doubt I'll be wearing any of them this weekend. You never know though, and they've been boxed up for a couple of years, so very much in need of some untangling.

This third one I start brushing out brings a smile to my face. She's been used the most, mostly at Halloween with my Little Red Riding Hood costume, the costume I had decided to retire this year, but am now tempted to throw it in my car just in case she wants to come out and play this weekend when I'm down in Seattle.

I smile as I brush through this matted wig, as I remember someone else wearing it. A fuzzy memory towards the end of a wild night in Bellingham a couple of years ago. I'm left speechless, or rather typeless, as I remember that night. And then I remember another night, the night of my moving-to-sedona party in 2005. The photos from that are in a folder titled "blackmail," appropriately so. For the sake of story-telling, it's sort of too bad that I'm so respectful of the privacy of others involved in those nights. But perhaps some stories, some experiences, are better off remaining private. Perhaps sometimes it really is best to "keep it to yourself." And that's why I don't blog more often. I hate censoring myself. So sometimes I'd rather just not share at all....


© 2009 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

a not so meaningless hobby

i think i once posted an entry explaining how i came up with the name of this blog. a dear friend shared a michael brown article about the new year, something about the importance of having a meaningless hobby. and so i started this blog. i suspected that the meaningless hobby would become meaningful at some point. perhaps that's the whole point of a meaningless hobby.... i think so.

so now i think about changing the name, but i don't, at least not today.....

(hey, sasha, thanks for the "kick ass blog" suggestion months ago; i just might use that when i'm ready to make the change! ;) )


© 2009 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

Do you see what I see?

Do you see what I see?

Do you see my scar?

Do you see the horrific images I see, the memories of riding in, and crashing in, that car?

For most of my life I couldn’t see beyond the scars. I couldn’t look at my body with love and acceptance. But that started before the accident. That started with some of the kids I went to school with who told me I was fat. Looking back, I wasn’t. At least not at first. But I sure did become so, for several years. And then, right when I was getting in shape, BAM! Car wreck. Body wrecked. Injuries. Surgeries. Disconnected. Not wanting to see. Unable to feel.

It’s not until 10 years later that I start getting back into my body. I left it the night of the accident. More than once. And continued this for years. Coming and going, but mostly going and rarely coming back in fully and deeply enough to stay and heal all that needed to be healed.

Sheng Zhen Qigong started getting me moving more, opening my heart, healing the disconnection. Feeling happy, so disgustingly happy for the first time in years.

Continuum Movement came next, bringing me more and more into my body, waking it up more and more. More to feel. More to experience. More to discover. More to release. More fully alive.

And then Ecstatic Dance comes into my life. It came so recently, but feels like a lifetime ago. So much more has opened up, shifted, changed. For the better. The best time in my life is now.

And so this past summer, the summer before my thirtieth birthday, it finally happens. I see myself without my scar. Instead of a scar, I see a tree with a snake wrapped around it. It’s been painted, or rather magic markered on me. And this body art, this drawing allows me, for the first time in 13 years, to see myself without my scar. For the first time in my life, the sight of my body makes me jump up and down and fill with glee.

And then something else happens. I see beyond the tree and the snake. I see my scar. I see me. And although I don’t jump up and down, I do smile. I see the beauty. I feel at peace.

I’m sick of hiding and covering up and over-protecting this body of mine. It’s time to let it all hang out, so to speak. Time to release this captive body. Time to release the stories as well, which is partially why I’m sharing this picture and this part of my story here. And this little piece of writing doesn’t even do justice to this story-- it’s just the tip of the iceberg….There’s so much more to it. Not just in terms of my own story(ies), but in terms of trauma and body image and society and the body and sexuality and love and self-acceptance and on and on…..

Book in progress...

….yes, 200+ pages already written….So close to finishing, yet so far away…..It’s tempting to stay home all weekend and write and edit and edit and write. But I’m off to Seattle again to celebrate my body. Body Electric workshop, here I come!

© 2009 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

Instead of Reston, part 3

Instead of Reston on Saturday, I rested. Slept in, ate breakfast, slept some more. Hibernated. It was pouring rain, and it felt good to stay in and not do much. I didn’t even write. I thought I would. I thought I’d spend at least a day just focused on writing during these days of vacation at home. But no. And eventually I got off of my couch, out of my pajamas, into a cocktail dress, and out the door to attend a “formal attire” party down several blocks away. It was fun. I met some new people. I met a woman who said she sometimes just stares at my ad’s picture in the Clamdigger; she said it’s so inviting. And she wasn’t hitting on me. And she assured me a few times that she wasn’t stalking me. We had a long conversation about career transitions and CranioSacral Therapy. It was good. After a couple of hours I left, unsure of whether or not I’d go to the Jazz Walk again, knowing I needed to go home and check in. And when I got home, I knew it was time to get back into bed and sleep again, and so I did.

Instead of Reston on Sunday, Reston came to me. Reston came to me in the form of a new man in my life who happens to be from there. What a strange coincidence. And it’s only one of several synchronicities and such that have come up while getting to know this man over the past couple of weeks. Sharing the same birthday is one of them. I’ve never met anyone ever with the same birthday. Everywhere I go and everyone I meet, all types of relationships provide mirrors, but spending time with someone who has the same birthday as me takes the whole mirroring thing to another level. So if astrology is b.s., well then, I don’t know how to explain…. Maybe just more coincidences and synchronicities regardless of birthdays? Maybe just a heightened awareness and seeking out of such things? Who knows. Doesn’t matter. But it sure is interesting. And fun. And easy. And rich.

And instead of Reston on Monday, I thought I’d go to a movie in the afternoon. But instead a friend came over for a little healing touch. I thought I’d go to a movie after she left, but instead went out for hot chocolate with another friend. And we ended up discussing what it might be like to collaborate on a workshop or two, combining her life coaching programs with my Sheng Zhen Qigong instructions and some guided meditation. Very exciting. And then I thought I might go for a walk, but instead just walked a few blocks to the library to check my email, and on my way there got a text from another friend who was at the library and wondering if I wanted to go for a walk. YES! So in the flow. Funny to see my three main Anacortes lady friends all in one day, one after the other. Funny that I still haven’t made it to the movie theatre since my first attempt on Thursday. I’d say maybe today or tomorrow, but one of the things I’ve learned by not going to Reston is how to stop planning— no, no, that’s a lie! Too extreme. I’m not there yet. What I’ve learned though is how to observe those ideas and plans passing through my head while being open to something else arising spontaneously, organically. More authentic. More full and in the natural flow of things.

And now I’m off to Seattle for a couple of days. Although I do have an appointment today and two appointments tomorrow, I actually have less planned out for Seattle than usual, and it feels really, really good…..


© 2009 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

Instead of Reston, part 2

Friday. In Reston, the Waves of Consciousness workshop started. Continuum AND CranioSacral Therapy. Together. Emilie Conrad and Suzanne Scurlock Durana. I feel a twinge of anxiety over missing out on spending 5 days with these two amazing women. But that's ok. I'll go another time. Or I won't. Doesn't matter.

Despite that little twinge, I'm still so happy that I canceled. I thought I might spend Friday and today doing my own little workshop, spending hours with Full Body Presence, Continuum, and Qigong. But no.

I did start my day with Zhongtian Yiqi, the non-moving form of Sheng Zhen Qigong. Although I think of this form as somewhat of a foundation for the other forms, I rarely practice it. But now I just might be hooked. It was amazing. I'm not so sure I spent much time meditating, but while listening to the c.d. I experienced some intense releases and realizations about my body and self-healing. I don't even remember clearly enough now to share. But it was moving and powerful.

I felt inspired to write afterwards, but my hunger got the best of me. And then I went shopping. All day. This is not a common occurrence for me, to spend the whole day out shopping, but that's what I did. So much for the solo-workshop idea! Instead I got the zipper fixed on my favorite coat. It's been waiting for me to do that for, oh, I'd say at least a year, maybe two. I also got some things for house projects, like hooks and a curtain rod, and a duster. How this took my whole day, I do not know. Oh, because I also looked at Halloween costumes--

This blog is boring me. Is it boring you?

Too bad I didn't write yesterday morning when I was so inspired. Maybe it will come back to me. Surely it will.....

Oh, something fun that happened was the Jazz Walk last night. I was lying around in my pajamas, thinking I wouldn't go. But then I realized how crazy that would be. How many times have I complained about there not being much to do here, and then when there is I'm not going to go? Crazy. So I went.

Walking down the street in the rain, wondering if I'd feel strange "going out" in Anacortes. It's such a rare occurence. And alone?! Well, I figured I'd run into people I know. Not friends, but clients and acquaintances. And I did. And it wasn't strange.

First I saw Thomas Marriott trio. He was in jazz band with my brother in high school. I wasn't crazy about the music; it was ok. But I stayed for quite a long time because I was enjoying the swiveling stool at the bar. It allowed me dance in my seat even better than in a typical stationary stool or chair. I was one of the only people "dancing." I wish more people would dance more often. Then again, for so many years, for most of my life, I was one of those people feeling frozen and locked in, self-conscious, dis-connected, inhibited.

What a relief to be free. And I know that even more progress, more blossoming, unraveling, more full body/mind/spirit aliveness lies ahead.


© 2009 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.

Instead of Reston

Instead of getting on a plane from Seattle to D.C. at 9 a.m. this morning, I found myself lying on my couch, in my house, in Anacortes. Smiling. On the phone with Renee in Norway. Happy to be here, instead of in the air and on my way to a 5-day workshop in Reston, Virginia.

The last time I canceled a trip—the trip to Croatia for Qigong teacher training this summer—all kinds of wonderful things happened in that time and space created by deciding to just stay here, to just be here, to just be. Enough with the going, going, going, and doing, doing, doing. Enough already.

I wondered if it might be interesting to write about what unfolds over these next few days, since although I didn’t leave, I’m still not seeing clients again until next Thursday or possibly even the following Monday, and not teaching next week’s qigong class. Sounds sort of like a vacation. Here at home? Yes. What a concept.

And so today it began with that call from Renee. What happened next? What happened next was a handyman came over to fix my doors and also do some re-caulking that’s been needed ever since I moved in, more than a year ago. And while he was here, I spent nearly 2 hours in my basement. Cleaning and organizing and finding hidden treasure, like the key to my diary from 3rd grade. Not that I need the key; the diary’s never been locked. But it was fun to discover it. And it was fun to finally give my basement some attention. Since January’s flood, I hadn’t spent much time down there. Not only was I often away from home, but the memories in that basement were too painful! I was such a wreck when it flooded. But now my basement looks just as good, if not better, than before the flood. And I am pleased.

After the handyman left, I went to the library for a little internet time, and when I went back outside, the clouds had cleared, and the blue sky and sun were calling me to take a walk instead of driving to Bellingham to return some clothes and see a movie. And so I listened. I thought I’d drive to Mount Erie, but I must have missed the turn off, because before I knew it, I was at Bowman’s Bay, which was more than fine with me. I love Bowman’s Bay. That’s where I spent my birthday afternoon on the beach this year.

As I walked along the beach and then through the forest trail up to a lookout point, I took in my surroundings, wishing I knew the names of more trees and plants. Maybe I’ll start learning. At the lookout point, I practiced Kuan Yin Standing Qigong next to a Madrona tree. As I looked out at the bay and the ocean, I thought about how small I am—no, I didn’t really think about it so much as feel it, in a good way. And as I looked at the trees and the land, I thought about how long they’ve been here and how long they’ll remain, and just how fleeting this life, my life, is. I felt some sense of relief about how I and other humans just come and go so fast in the grand scheme of things. While twirling qi above my head, I laughed as I finally got it, really got why Master Li always talks about “no worries.” Not that nothing matters, but that there’s no point in worrying. And as my mom says, “Worry is the misuse of imagination.” So true, so true.

After my practice, I walk back to my car and drive home. I get in bed and listen to a couple of Full Body Presence Explorations. And then I feel like dancing, but after about 5 minutes, I’m hungry and eat a snack while fast-forwarding through Top Gun. It’s just not what I remember it being. And so I turn it off and write this instead.

Ta da!

Day 1, almost done.....


© 2009 Rebecca Clio Gould. All rights reserved.