Diviine Intervention

Nope. I didn't spell it wrong. I spelled it Diviine because, quite simply, that's how you spell it.

I have had a client for many years now. She owns a company that creates and sells modest clothing in Utah. Trust me. It's a BIG DEAL in Utah. The majority is LDS and it is extremely difficult for the members of the church to find clothing that is modest as well as stylish and fashinable. Diviine Modestee has done that. Brilliantly. You can check out her stuff at diviinemodestee.com.

Tiring of the search for modest swim wear, Chantelle developed a line called Divinita Sole and I get to design the fabric for the suits. I love, love, LOVE it. It's fun to go to the pool and see a swimsuit and think "Oh! I designed that!" In fact, when Dawn took me on my "Get-away Extravaganza" to California last year, we were basking on the beach in Catalina and a suit passed that I recognized. When I asked the wearer of that suit where she got her swimsuit, she gushed on and on about this wonderful company that creates these amazing clothes and it was SO FUN to say "I designed that fabric." Made my day!

I imagine that you know this blog isn't about clothing. It's about me. Duh.

When I was fired from Studies Weekly, I lost all of my benefits. Suck. The timing of it all has been immensely stressful and I have spent many, MANY hours wrapped in fret and worry about my inability to help financially. The interesting sidekick of this disease is that the symptoms worsen when compounded by stress. My doc has explained that my brain can't exactly multi-task any longer. I concentrate on the simple things that YOU PEOPLE do without thinking. You know. Stuff like walking, and talking, and sitting, and standing. Therefore, when stress enters into the picture and my brain wants to process it, my walking and talking and sitting and standing pay the price. I don't exactly know how to prevent this. Stress surrounds us. All of us. So I'll wobble and stumble and stress. And maybe, somehow, it will work out perfectly fine.

My doctor has pushed and pushed for me to attend physical therapy and speech therapy. The last time I saw her, she asked if I had been going and I had to tell her about losing my job and my benefits and that I would not be able to attend any therapy. To say she was dismayed is an understatement. Therapy is very important in keeping some of these symptoms at bay for a longer period of time. Too bad for me. Can't afford it. Not going. Period.

A few weeks later, Chantelle called to schedule a meeting about some graphics. Since I am unable to hide some of my symptoms any longer, when we met, I told her what was going on. She sat right here at my desk. Right beside me. And cried.

Two weeks later, my Diviine Intervention came in the form of an email. Chantelle wrote:

...I have not gotten you off my mind since we saw each other and constant urge has come to help you.  I talked to my accountant and I have the approval to go ahead.  I will need to pay the therapist directly but all bills can be paid...

Could this REALLY be true?  Do I really get to go to speech and physical therapy? In one word...YUP! I have gone to one session and will going to my second today.

We're all learning together right now. This disease (although rampant in my biological family) is very rare. My therapists have been doing research to find what I'll be needing and how best to help me. They are kind and helpful and easy to talk to. I'm excited to see if this old dog can learn new tricks. 

It seems that I am destined to be the beneficiary of some pretty amazing gifts. I dream of being the benefactor and hope to pay each act forward some day. Sigh. I am grateful beyond words. My family is excited and hopeful and ohsovery grateful for the love and kindness offered to us.

Just when you think the world is black...

Who knew? Right?

The Native Way

Diana is Navajo. Pretty cool, huh? I've always thought that Diana is one of the most beautiful people I know. Tall, thin, dark skin, straight hair, beautiful smile. Sigh. Imagine my happiness when Tyson picked her to be his companion for life. Happy, happy, happy!

There was a pow wow at BYU last week end. I have known about the pow wows. Apparantly they travel around and a couple times a year they land at BYU. When Tyson and Goose were young, they used to attend the pow wow with the Nakai family. However, the pow wow remained something that the kids did and I have never attended one.

When Diana mentioned that she was making jingle dresses for Hailey and Madison (Haileys cousin from Diana's sister) to wear to the pow wow, I told her this was the year that I wanted to go. Diana always gracefully and enthusiastically says "okay" but I don't know if she is really thinking "Oh crap." Regardless, I went and I am OHSOGLAD that I went. Wow.

I don't know what I expected. There were natives dressed in the most elaborate costumes I have ever seen. It was the most amazingly, beautiful thing. For being a gal so full of words to say, I find myself at a loss to truly describe the enormity of my emotion I felt upon seeing the beauty and honor in our native family.

According to powwow.com:

Pow Wows are the Native American people’s way of meeting together, to join in dancing, singing, visiting, renewing old friendships, and making new ones.  This is a time method to renew Native American culture and preserve the rich heritage of American Indians.

I witnessed 9 singing groups. Okay, I'll be honest here. It sounded a bit like hollering in the beginning, but as the day wore on, I was able to recognize the different languages within the hollering. During one of the songs, Donna (Diana's mom) mentioned that she loved when the women joined in the song. Because I was so riveted by the dancing, I hadn't noticed. The next time women joined the singing group, I paid attention. It WAS beautiful.

So much of what our native ancestors did held deep meaning and purpose. Donna pointed a variety of tradition within the dances.

What really struck me, aside from the beauty of the costumes, the dancing, the singing, was the solemn honor each member felt for each other and the traditions that were being celebrated. A dance was performed for friendship. At one point, there was a ceremony to honor those that were graduating from college. They presented each student a gift. A line of graduates was formed and anyone who wished to offer their congratulations could do so. The line of well-wishers was enormous.

I admire the honor within our native american culture. I love the reverence held for our earth and the animals and plants that reside here. I don't think they had it wrong. I think we "white men" do. I believe that if we truly honored where we come from, our respect for ourselves and others would grow.  A native proverb states:

"Treat the earth well: it was not given to you by your parents, it was loaned to you by your children. We do not inherit the Earth from our Ancestors, we borrow it from our Children."

I love that Diana is in our family. I love that she is teaching her kids the native way. I love that her family honors the native tradition. I love that I will have the opportunity to learn from that honor.

Crowfoot, a warrior and orator said:

"What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset."

Yep. Beautiful.