As I sorted through the photos I found many that I had never seen before. There was one set in particular–taken at my grandparent’s 40th and my parent’s 10th anniversary party in June 1957 that really set me on my explorations.

The photo above shows my father’s parents surrounded by their nine grandchildren. I’m in the front row, second from the right. If you look closely you can see a boy up in the tree.

It was when I was creating an album for my middle sister’s birthday that I noticed that she DID look angelic in the photos. L was always considered sweet, but that’s only one side of her. As we look at more photos you’ll see the other sides.

The Newest Cousin

I also noticed who was in the photos and who wasn’t. There were the most pictures of my cousin N. She was eight months old, but other than the group shot above, a couple of my other cousins weren’t photographed.

My Grandparents

This is a photo of my cousin standing on his father’s palm. I was told that it’s based on trust–the child has to trust the world.

Not all children will do this. Of my uncle’s four children there are only pictures of two of them.

This Morning’s Inquiry

The inquiry’s thread was long–it’s still occurring as I write this. It moved from the Rosanne Cash blog, to the Physick Book of Deliverance Dane, to a photo of my niece, to the photos on my bedroom wall, to discussions with my parents in the weeks before their deaths. They all are related–each looking at the same thing from a different perspective. Each morphing into another.

The inquiry began with the concept of truth versus fact. Most of us don’t realize that they are vastly different. For example here are some facts about me: I’m from San Diego, CA, the third of four sisters, have no children, and never married,  in my 50s, with wavy black hair, brown eyes, and wear glasses.

With these facts can you picture me? Do they express who I am? All of the facts are true, but they don’t take other factors into consideration. First of all, what may get in the way of knowing who I am from the description are your own perceptions of what a woman in her 50s may look like. You may picture your mother, a teacher, or someone you work with. You may see someone who dyes her hair and has a perm, although nothing was said about either. You don’t know whether my face is wrinkled, if I’m healthy, or if I smile.

They’re also based upon my own perceptions of what to tell and what I may think defines me. I could say that I’m overweight, That may be a fact because I weigh far more than I did when I was younger, but it doesn’t mean that I’m fat in comparison with other women my age. Upon meeting me some of you may think that I am overweight, yet others will disagree.

So let’s move beyond appearance. We all carry around stories in our minds. These stories are both real and perceived. They are about our pasts and our futures. This goes along with how you can ask different people who were all in the same place at the same time what happened at an event and you’ll get three different versions. We all bring things in that color or pollute what we think is.

This is where the difference between fact and truth is. First of all, Truth is in the present. You may be telling a factual story about your childhood, but it may not be the Truth. It could be tainted with misunderstanding or blame. It could be that it’s not the full story–only one side.

I’m told that I have an incredible memory, but I don’t remember everything. For example my middle sister talks about a horrible fight between my mother and her mother when my mother announced she was pregnant with my younger sister. Perhaps I wasn’t there; perhaps I didn’t understand what was going on; perhaps I didn’t want to remember it. But her memory of the fight doesn’t acknowledge the later relationship between my grandmother and my sister. In itself it doesn’t explain the relationship between my mother and my grandmother.

So what we have is a lot of gray and what may be. As I described in my Inquiry post there is a specific feel to the Truth. It really does show itself and can’t be denied.

I woke early this morning and laid in bed inquiring into truth, honesty, and facts (see yesterday’s blog).  More came up to add to the list–belief, knowing, and perception. They’re all related and often confused.

I’m going to write this in multiple posts. I’ll add to each in the future since none of this is fixed.

Inquiry

I’ll begin with the inquiry process. Inquiry is an open-ended look into something. It flows. Often it has a strong current, so it may be a rough ride. At other times it is smooth sailing. There is a thread that goes from one thing to another, yet is connected like a spider web. When inquiring I often have what I call Aha moments or epiphanies when I reach the truth. There is a sense of knowing (in a deep, fundamental way) as well as openness and support or grounding. That means that the head (knowing), the heart (openness), and the belly (support) are all open.

Knowing, openness, and support are important since we often regard what’s familiar as being our truth. But what’s familiar is more often a distorted story–a story that misdirects and misguides us through life and has us reliving the same thing again and again as in the movie Groundhog Day. It can keep us stuck and prevents us from growth and fulfillment.

Over the years I’ve saved articles that apply to Capturing the Soul. One article is a blog by Rosanne Cash that was in the New York Times May 22, 2008, “Measure for Measure, How to Write a Song and Other Mysteries–The Ear of the Beholder“.

Rosanne Writes:

The “truth” (or “honesty”) and the “facts” are not necessarily the same, they are not necessarily equal and one often requires the suspension of the other. This may not be the case in higher math or on Wall Street (or, actually, it may work there as well, but I’m clueless about that) but it is an immutable “truth” in art and music that facts are not necessarily the best indicators of the deepest human experience….

But in the space where truth and fact diverge, a larger question arises: if the facts don’t lead us to meaning, what does? Perhaps a willingness to live with questions, not answers, and the confidence to ascribe meaning where we find it, with our own instincts as guide. I should approach my writing as if I am meeting someone for the first time, and have no idea what he will say or what kind of mood he is in. If you already know entirely what you want to say, and want to document an “honest” rehash of what happened and why, then I still maintain that you are better off taking up jurisprudence.

I appreciate my readers’ instinct to protect my songwriting students and their attempts to stay honest, but in songwriting, as in painting, photo-realism is only one style; it is not the litmus test for everything else. In many great songs a larger, universal modicum of truth is revealed and resonates on a personal level with the listener, even when the facts make no sense at all. Sometimes especially when the facts make no sense at all.

Not only is Rosanne talented (and spells her name correctly), but she understands the fine line between truth, honesty, and facts. By staying with intuition and sensing the experience allows us to move beyond the facts–to move out of our heads and into a deeper experience. That’s why we cry when we hear a song or see a movie that deeply touches our experience. That is when we really sense the truth–it is beyond the facts and doesn’t pertain to the “honesty” that’s associated with those facts. That is what truly captures us and touches our souls.

Here’s the link to the song  April 5th that she discusses in the article, written and performed with Elvis Costello and Kris Kristofferson.

Today is graduation day. I want to say happy graduation to the high school seniors.

I also want to look at these two high school graduation photos. The one to the left was posted by the writer Luis Urrea on Twitter and his Facebook fan page. The one on the right was my high school graduation. We attended the same high school in San Diego, graduating a year apart–Luis in 1973 and me in 1972.

I don’t remember much of my high school graduation. I attended a large school with over 600 people in my graduating class, so I remember it being long and boring. I remember going to a party following the graduation either at my boyfriend’s house or in his neighborhood.

What I was struck with when I saw Luis’ photo (yes, he gave me permission to use it) is the joy and affection. There’s action and movement in the photo. The woman to the right definitely adds to the photo. Perhaps she’s looking into the future.

The photo of my boyfriend and I is serious. We’re not smiling. We’re not affectionate. There is no joy. Everyone in the background has their back to us. Although we’re looking into the camera (and at my father who didn’t approve of my boyfriend) we’re reticent and contracted. There’s no sense of our future. sadly, there is no joy. There’s just contraction.

I have reflected many times upon our rigid search. It has shown me that everything is illuminated in the light of the past. It is always along the side of us–on the inside looking out. Like you say–inside out.

In this way I will always be along the side of your life and you will always be along side of mine. Our families will be with us and our families’ families…

I am sending you this because we have shared something
to exist for and, of course, in case anyone comes searching.

The character Alex Perchov, Scene 24, Everything is Illuminated, film by Leiv Schreiber, based on the novel by Jonathon Safran Foer

I watched Everything is Illuminated again. It’s one of my favorite movies. About a young man who collects to have memories. He sets out to discover his grandfathers story when he finds an old photograph of his grandfather as a young man with a young woman. His search takes him and his translator and guide beyond what any of them expect. The magic of the story is illuminating.

This week I announced that I’d would take a hiatus from the spiritual workschool I’ve been a part of for over 21 years. As I inquired into leaving, I realized that I wasn’t leaving anything. I couldn’t leave anything, because the work has become such a part of my life. I have metabolized it. My process will continue regardless of whether or not I attend retreats, weekends, groups, or private sessions.

Since deciding to make this change  I’ve noticed how much stronger my process is. This shift propels this blog and my life. I don’t know how long this stage will last, but I’m glad that it’s here. I feel fluid and open.

I will continue to explore my process–the good and the bad. It is this process that has enabled me to see what is–to be open to the truth and to follow it.

As I wrote the last sentence what came up for me was the when I split from my sisters in 2003. My mother was ill and they didn’t want to accept where she was. They wanted to pretend that she would get better–would drive again and resume living alone. They demanded that I unite with them. I told them that I couldn’t. I could only move toward the truth.

I split from them, but my life has been fuller and greater in making that break. I don’t know where my path leads me, but I’m up for the adventure.

For some reason I read three books in a row on Salem, MA. Two were by Brunonia Barry, The Lace Reader and the map of true places (the title is in lower case). The first  was given to me by a neighbor and I really enjoyed it. The second I purchased because I enjoyed The Lace Reader, but it seemed like a something written because the The Lace Reader was successful. The third of the Salem series, The Physick Book of Deliverance Dane by Katherine Howe, was recommended by my local bookseller as something difficult to put down.

As  time passes since I read it, I understand more about why I disliked it. The cover states “Spooky” –People and “Bedeviling” — New York Daily News. I found it to be neither, but I don’t even know what “bedeviling” means. I do know that it was simplistic and trite.

Names are important to this story. The names are also what prevented me from really getting into the story. The main character’s name is Connie Goodwin. Goodwin is my last name. Goodwin was also the last name of the first girl who was “possessed” starting the Salem witch hunts. Connie is a brilliant, Colonial history, doctoral candidate at Harvard who returns to her grandmother’s home in Marblehead, MA. As Connie learns of women named Deliverance, Mercy, Prudence, and Patience and mocks their names while forgetting that her name, Constance and her mother’s name, Grace are similar to those.

What bothered me most was that although she was a historian and researcher, she was so close minded that she continually overlooked the obvious. What I love about historical research is how if you sense the process; look at what is there; and listen to the messages you’re given the answers are there, although they often are very different from what your mind may tell you they should be. That is part of the mystery and the fun of research.

This is also true of family history and looking at family photographs. By getting beyond the mental hypothesizes, you’ll find answers that take you further than what the mind can perceive. The answers are there, but you have to trust, you have to sense, look, and listen to what is there.

This is my favorite photo of myself– the twirl of the umbrella framing me; the tilt of my head; and the colors are what makes it special. But what I like the most about it is the expression on my face. The look that doesn’t look posed. I wasn’t trying to please. I wasn’t trying to ham. I just was. Outside with my umbrella in summer. Dad took the picture, but I didn’t need to do anything special.