Sean.

I think that my Uncle Sean put it perfectly when at the end of my trip he said, "It has been so amazing becoming friends with you." To love someone as family is one thing, but to love someone in your family as a close friend is profound. I cannot find the words to express how much peace was brought to my heart by spending time with my Dads baby brother. I am content.

Thanksgiving

 

This was the second Thanksgiving without my Dad. Last year was tough...it had only been a few weeks since he'd passed. My mom and I had spent the evening at the house, just the two of us, for a quiet, loving dinner...neither of us feeling up to the social encounters that the holiday holds. It was perfect and I was grateful for the alone time as part of my healing. This year I feel so much stronger than I was the last, and I feel a gentle peace and surrender when I think of my Dad. We did thanksgiving at home again this year, just the two of us, with me cooking a delicious and healthy dinner. We didn't talk about him much, but that's because we don't have to. Do you talk about the air? No, not really- but that's because it's everywhere...you just know. And that's how I feel about dad. So despite the inevitable sadness each day without him holds, I woke up smiling because he exists within me. And for that realization I'm grateful. God Bless.

Harvest Moon, Sunrise and Surfing SOB's

MONKEY!!!!!

I woke up at 5:30am and couldn't help but to admire the stunning Harvest Moon. I tried snapping a photo of it, but it didn't do it justice so I just made sure to make a mental picture of it in my mind. I sat in meditation for a bit, made some tea and then was on my way in search of waves. I checked "the spot" but ended up at "my" spot, and was so grateful that I did. (Sorry, I'm not going to let you know where "my" spot is...). As always, it delivered. As always, there were some familiar friendly faces in the water that elevated my session and the overall vibration in the water. And for the umpteenth time this week, Monk paddled out shortly after I arrived. Monk is a legend around these parts, and I attribute my smooth fluid moves on the water to growing up surfing with him. I know, my Dad surfed so why wasn't he the influence- actually, all three of us often surfed together, but my Dad and I have much different styles- which was the topic of most heckling that went on the water between the two of us most days! Anywho, Monk (Mike Monroe), whom I lovingly refer to as "Monkey", is one of my all time favorite people to surf with, and one of my all time favorite people in general. It's been these past few sessions with him that have really filled my heart and reminded me of HOW much fun and joy surfing truly brought to my life [when my Dad was around]. He heckles a bit (not nearly as much as my Dad), he hoots and hollers a bit (not nearly as much as my Dad), and he catches the best waves that filter through (same as my Dad). We chat throughout the session, about everything from gardening, spirituality, music, nature and how much we dislike tv. We find comfort and joy in each others "weirdness" and I find that we giggle like little girls about the smallest of things. There's the occasional "cessation of conversation" as Monk declares it whenever a good set comes through, but then we reconvene in the lineup after the wave sliding has commenced. Monk was on the inside paddling out as I caught a perfect wave, slowly cross-stepping to the nose for some hang time before gracefully making my way back. Monk shouted "Yeeew! Nose walking, trash-talking, son of a bitch!". This made me beam with love and pride, and filled me with so many fond memories of my Dad- I almost burst into tears. To begin, Monk doesn't curse. Secondly, he knew that this was what my Dad always shouted at me when I had a perfect wave. And so, for many of you, you now know the origin of this blogs namesake. Monk and I had a laugh about the fill-ins that Dad would use: it always began with "nose walking, trash-talking..." And ended with "...son of a bitch!", but the in between was the best part. It ranged from...

*purple-board-riding
*hummus-eating
*blue-bikini-wearing
*down-dog-yoga-chick
*spanish-speaking
*sweet-songstress-singing
*heart-breaking
*name-taking

Sometimes it was just one or two of these lines woven in, but other days it was all of them together! So here's to my Dad, we were sliding 'em for you today. There must have been 30 dolphins in the lineup, and your presence was all around. Love, your nose walking, trash talking, purple-board-riding, hummus-eating,blue-bikini-wearing,down-dog-yoga-chick
,spanish-speaking, sweet-songstress-singing, heart-breaking, name-taking Son of a Bitch.

One Year

Me, Mom and Dad on our Sumner Ave in Strathmere.

My tapas have been strong, and I have stayed committed to this diet through and through. But yesterday I had to break it for one ice cold Guinness and toast to my Dad...on his beach, with his beer, with his Wife, surrounded by his friends. It tasted bittersweet.

 

 

Feel no guilt in laughter, he’d know how much you care. Feel no sorrow in a smile that he is not here to share.
You cannot grieve forever; he would not want you to. He’d hope that you could carry on the way you always do.
So, talk about the good times and the way you showed you cared,
The days you spent together, all the happiness you shared.
Let memories surround you, a word someone may say
Will suddenly recapture a time, an hour, a day,
That brings him back as clearly as though he were still here,
And fills you with the feeling that he is always near.
For if you keep those moments, you will never be apart
And he will live forever locked safely within your heart.

Dad, In Ireland, enjoying "mothers milk".

" life can only be understood looking backwards, 

but must be lived looking forward".

By no strange chance, I have had encounters and interactions with several powerful and amazing women this week who also lost their fathers (when they were about my age). What I've taken away from all of these conversations is that I really owe it all to him....not only did he love me and make me who I am while he was here, but through his passing I have gone through a transformation that would not have taken place otherwise - a transformation that has empowered and enlightened me beyond my expectations. We all agreed that we would have our fathers back in a heartbeat if we could, but looking back - there is nothing but gratitude because that day forever changed the direction ahead.  So, it's been a rough few days, and an emotional year - but looking back - I understand that everything happens as it should, and now I'm just living life looking forward. Life is beautiful, and I feel so grateful for all of It's blessings. Today I woke up feeling grateful that Paul Callahan was my Dad, which surprised me, because I thought that my first emotion would have been one of sadness that he was gone. And so I raise my pint of Guinness to a great man, he forever lives in my heart.

Death is nothing at all
I have only slipped away into the next room
I am I and you are you
Whatever we were to each other
That we are still
Call me by my own familiar name
Speak to me in the easy way you always used
Put no difference into your tone
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow
Laugh as we always laughed
At the little jokes we always enjoyed together
Play, smile, think of me, pray for me
Let my name be ever the household word that it always was
Let it be spoken without effort
Without the ghost of a shadow in it
Life means all that it ever was
There is absolute unbroken continuity
What is death but a negligible accident?
Why should I be out of mind
Because I am out of sight?
I am waiting for you for an interval
Somewhere very near
Just around the corner
All is well.
Nothing is past; nothing is lost
One brief moment and all will be as it was before
How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!
Canon Henry Scott-Holland, Canon of St Paul’s Cathedral (1847 – 1918)

Tapas and Tea

Perhaps the sight of deer skulls after meditation is a bit unsettling for most, but for me, seeing these warms my heart and reminds me of my main man.....

Every morning has started out with my Tapas and a cup of (piping) hot tea. I have so enjoyed the daily routine and I feel as if there is an underlying peace now that wasn't totally there before. I started adopting and practicing weekly tapas while in India. What is a "tapa" you ask (no, it's not a small dish at a Spanish restaurant)?

I will preface our "tapas" talk with a bit of background information. First of all, there are eight limbs to yoga, "asana" (physical postures) only being one of them. They are...
1. Yamas (external code of conduct)
There are 5 Yamas: ahimsa (nonviolence), satya (truthfulness), asteya (nonstealing), brahmacharya (conserving energy, continence), aparigraha (noncoveting)
2. Niyamas (internal code of conduct):
There are 5 Niyamas: saucha (purity), santosa (contentment), tapas (spiritual austerities), svadhyaya (self study), ishvara pranhidana (surrender to god)
3. Asana (postures)
4. Pranayama (breath control)
5. Pratayhara (withdraw of the senses)
6. Dharana (concentration)
7. Dhyana (meditation)
8. Samadhi (enlightenment)

While in India, I actually worked my way through the Yamas and the Niyamas, embodying (and journaling about) each for a full week. It was such a great practice in awareness, and I highly recommend it to all of you as well! The Yamas and the Niyamas are the backbone of how I live my life, with each building upon the one before. Observing and living these in my daily life have shed so much light on so many things...I am so grateful. Anywho, TAPAS:

***************Tapas : 3^rd Niyama (austerity, fiery discipline)*****

“Tapas” is one of the most powerful concepts in the Yoga Sutras.  The word “tapas” comes from the Sanskrit verb “tap” which means “to burn”. The traditional interpretation of tapas is that it is “fiery  discipline”. It is this discipline which burns off the impediments which us from being in the state of yoga. Another way to understand tapas is to think of it as consistency.  One of the highest disciplines is that of consistency: getting on the yoga mat every day, sitting on the meditation cushion every day, observing the antics of the mind every day, forgiving your mate or your child yet another time. If tapas is considered in this vein, then it becomes a more subtle practice, a practice that is concerned with the quality of life and relationships, not just with outlasting some difficulty.
When we bring a commitment born of love to our consistent practice of yoga, we are practicing the niyama of tapas. It is with this spirit of abiding in the midst of difficulty which is at the heart of tapas. This is the spirit of tapas: the willingness to follow through with difficult decisions while maintaining compassion for all the effects that those decisions might have for self and others. Tapas is ultimately measured in the consistent willingness to begin practice again and again, over and over again to bring awareness to this very moment. (http://www.judithlasater.com/writings/livingtheniyamas2.html)


Tapas is the joyful willingness to do what is necessary to reach a goal with fiery   discipline.
Tapas (austerity) refers to strength of character in resolute pursuit of yoga’s ultimate goal of the union of Self (Atman) and Brahman (God).  The word “Tapas” translate as a spiritual purification or fiery discipline that burns away impediments that keep us from achieving our highest potential of Self.
Many have mistakenly practiced Tapas as self-mortification.  Fasting, a meager diet, and other forms of extreme asceticism are not in alignment with our first, and most important, yama of ahimsa (non-violence). While the practice of austerities in moderation trains the will and develops body and mind, excessive asceticism and self-mortification has the opposite affect. Tapas is one of the most powerful practices in the Yoga Sutras.

The word “Tapas” comes from the Sanskrit verb “tap” which means “to burn.” The traditional interpretation of Tapas is a “fiery discipline” that is a fiercely focused, constant, intense commitment necessary to burn off the impediments that keep us from being in the true state of yoga (union with the universe).

Practice: Maintain a constant determination to pursue daily practices.  Make sacrifices as necessary, but do not hurt self or other in the process.  Be enthusiastic about the spiritual path. Be joyfulness with outer discipline as a means of refining a joyful inner discipline. Remember Tapas is a joyful willingness to do what is necessary to reach a goal with fiery discipline, it is not a punishment.

Tapas turns up the heat
Tapas is a practice of balanced austerity, sacrifice, and discipline. Tapas means “heat” or “fire.” Go through the heat and accept it – invite it in. Fire brings transformation while leading into stillness. If you are not in stillness, you are in craving or in aversion. In other words, you are suffering. Transformation happens through the fire with presence and persistency.  As the layers of ego melt away, the truth of love shines through.

Tapas (Discipline vs Difficulty)
Unfortunately, many people mistakenly equate discipline in a yoga practice with difficulty. They see another student striving to perfect the most difficult poses and assume she must be more disciplined and therefore more spiritually advanced.

Difficulty does not make a practice transformational. 
It is true that good things are sometimes difficult, but not all difficult things are automatically good. In fact, difficulty can create its own impediments. The ego is drawn to battle with difficulty. Even mastering a challenging yoga pose can bring pride and an egoistic attachment to being an “advanced” yoga student.  This impedes or slows your progress.  A better way to understand Tapas is to think of it as a non-attached consistency in striving toward your goals.

Ultimate practice of Tapas: Love yourself and your life exactly as it IS.  Change nothing, but move with more and more presence and consistency.  Be vigilant that your thoughts, actions and speech are rooted in love. (http://www.gaiaflowyoga.com/2010/07/31/tapas-3rd-niyama-austerity-fiery-discipline-2/)

  

I begin Gabrielle Bernsteins "May Cause Miracles" 40 day affirmation and meditation series four weeks ago, and I haven't missed a day since I began - because I took it on as one of my tapas. Also as a tapa, I am doing the Kundalini kriya,  "Ego Eradicator"  every morning before I read the day's entry. After my morning breathwork, reading and meditation I head inside and begin my ritual: I boil water and almond milk with a cinnamon stick, fresh ginger, cardamom and green tea chai. I sit down, quietly sip and thoroughly enjoy my mornings cup of tea. Are there mornings when I'm fucking exhausted and would rather hit the snooze button? Absolutely. But I am choosing to honor the tapas that I've made, knowing that they are helping me to come into my highest self. One of my favorite parts of my morning tapas is that I have been practicing outside, in the same place, seated on the edge of our property, looking out over the grass and into the trees that my Dad planted around our home. It is this time in the morning that I feel most connected to him, when all is quiet and the world seems to be completely still. Sometimes I feel his presence in the breeze around me as I sit in meditation. Once he even sat with me in meditation. When I open my eyes I see the deer skulls from one of his last hunting ventures sitting outside in the grass, and I know that there must be more to life than this short existence that we are in. Whether he is in heaven, or just floating around on the breeze - his body has passed but his spirit is still here and all around.

I invite you all to take on a tapa for a week. And then add another week. And another. They say that it takes 40 days for true change to set in, for old patterns to be broken, and for new patterns to emerge. So perhaps you set it for fourty days. But be kind to yourself, and don't set yourself up for failure by setting some crazy insane goal. While in India my tapa began as one week of waking up and doing 3 rounds of uddiyana bandha followed by a one minute headstand. The next week I decided to add 3 rounds of U.B. followed by a minute of kapalabti and a 2 minute headstand. The third week it was 3 rounds of U.B., 3 minutes of kapalabati, and 3 minute headstand. So on, and so forth. It was a gradual increase and then at the end of 7 weeks I had powerful lungs, a killer headstand, a proud heart, and a still mind. Best of luck to you all. God Bless.

Beasts of the Southern Wild

Because I spend most of my year out of the country and away from a TV, and then come home only to have no free time to hit the movies or catch up on sitcoms....I'm a bit behind. So forgive me if I'm rambling about something that ya'll are familiar with. Has everyone seen "BEASTS OF THE SOUTHERN WILD"? Because if you haven't, you must --- not now, right now. The story is about Hushpuppy and her Daddy (Wink) - and it is the most poetic summation of life.

 

 "In one of the critical encounters in Hushpuppy's valiant evolution into a victorious personality, she must confront in her mind's eye the beasts of the southern wild — the prehistoric aurochs. She calls them the "strong animals" and observes that weak hearts make them hungry. So when they come, she faces them with her strong heart and befriends them. This bold and tender action proves her fearlessness in the face of whatever shows up in her life." --No matter what comes our way, if we approach it with a strong heart we can persevere.

Sometimes you just have to rebel yell....

 Hushpuppy: Everybody loses the thing that made them. It's even how it's supposed to be in nature. 

Hushpuppy ends the movie with the following quote......

"When it all goes quiet behind my eyes, I see everything that made me lying around in invisible pieces. When I look too hard, it goes away. And when it all goes quiet, I see they are right here. I see that I'm a little piece in a big, big universe. And that makes things right."

This movie brought a lot of peace to the sadness that's been lingering lately. We live we, we die, we rejoin the cycle and circle of existence. In the end, we are a little piece in a big, big universe....and that makes things right. 

Wink: My only purpose in life is to teach her how to make it. 

Thanks Dad...for teaching me how to make it.

Thanks to everyone who has filled me up with kindness and love these past 24 hours. The emails, kind words, hugs and gifts have been so touching. I'm so lucky to have such great support. I am grateful for you all!

I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength. I stand and watch her until at length she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come to mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says: "There, she is gone!"

"Gone where?"

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to bear the load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says: "There, she is gone!" There are other eyes watching her coming, and other voices ready to take up the glad shout: "Here she comes!"

It's the little things...

It's the little things that make me miss him the most...

Yesterday my iPhone left this world. Well, the back of it shattered into a thousand itty bitty pieces and now the screen keeps freezing. I do absolutely everything on my phone and use it for all of my businesses, so I went straight up to Apple to replace it. I have iCloud, so transferring photos and such shouldn't be a problem. But my new iPhone is bigger than the old one- so it won't fit in my camo case. My friend Ro had bought this case for my Dad, the king of "Kill Em and Eat Em". Then, she realized that he didn't have an iPhone- so she gave it to me. My Dad would always joke about me using "his" case...literally, every time he saw it- which was every day- he'd make a comment and laugh and laugh. And now, every day when I look at the case I think of him, hearing him tease me about stealing his case. Then there is the home screen of my phone. Which is a picture of my Mom and Dad. It's not like I can't put this same photo as my homescreen on my new phone, but you understand...it's just the process of doing it again. I know this seems such a small thing, and maybe my Dad even had a hand in it so id stop getting all emotional about him because of a damn cell phone. But I cried a bit on the way home from Apple, knowing that each day puts more and more time and distance between us. I don't want to let him go, but I don't want to hold on so tightly to him either. Navigating the balance with all of these emotions has been tricky, and in the end- it's usually the small things that set me off in the biggest way. Today I think I'm going to have a full Paul Callahan Day...watch his favorite movie, eat his favorite foods (minus the ice cream...damn candida!), and rock out to his favorite songs. I just want to hold him today...but not too tight...

All Around Me.

Today my Dad was ALL around me. I could feel it when I woke up this morning, and it only got more pronounced as the day continued...

I went to Gabrielle Bernsteins speakeasy this afternoon. Gabby is a New York Times best selling author, a kickass Kundalini goddess and just an all around amazing person. Her lecture started off with some meditation to center us all and connect us, and it ended with some kundalini as well. But in between our final two kriyas and chanting Ong Namo Gurudev Namo, she had started blaring SHAKE IT OUT by Florence and the Machine through the speakers. Well for those of you who read the blog- you KNOW how much this song means to me and how connected it is to this past year and the passing of my Dad. Such a powerful song. So as several hundred of us were shaking out all of our negative energy, vigorously shaking, we then started to add in some screaming and shouting. Gabby didn't know it but Florence, Rebel Yelling, Shaking and crazy Kundalini are some of my favorite things--- and the combination helped me to remember, honor, and digest emotions concerning my favorite man. Needless to say I was bawwwwwling my eyes out, literally buckets of tears. One of Wanderlusts photographers snapped a photo of me in my moment of despair and grief, and (go figure) it was on Instagram shortly thereafter. At first I was embarrassed that this photo was out there for thousands to see- but...it's my truth. I am every bit as vulnerable and broken as that photo shows...but as Gabby said, these low lows are actually divine opportunities for spiritual growth. Such an amazing afternoon and amazing woman. 

All in all, Gabrielle is a goddess with a powerful message. Live well, Serve well. God bless. 

"Observe the wonders as they occur around you. Don't claim them. Feel the artistry moving through and be silent. Don't grieve. Anything you lose comes round in another form."

― Rumi

Bryna, Jaime and Me. 

SHAKE IT OUT, SHAKE IT OUT

Me and Gabby Bernstein

Yep, thats me...bawling my eyes out as I shake it out.

Cailin Callahan

www.cailincallahan.blogspot.com

Fathers Day

dad and me

Well I made it through Fathers Day without crying. My throat my tight and my heart was heavy, but every time that I thought about him I couldn't help but to smile. I found it difficult to fit any sadness into my heart when it was already filled with so many great memories and so much love. When I was looking through pictures I got a bit choked up on photos from the years right before he got sick...the ones from my childhood seem so long ago and the most recent when he's so sick are what I most remember right now--- but it's the photos of when he was healthy, when I was between the ages of 14 and 22 that really got to me. Goddamn, he was fun! The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying has truly given me peace of mind...I'm not sure how well I'd be handling this all without it. So Dad, I love you- and I miss your physical presence, but I still feel you in my heart. Happy Fathers Day.

Everything she sees
she says she wants.
Everything she wants
I see she gets.

That's my daughter in the water
everything she owns I bought her
Everything she owns.
That's my daughter in the water,
everything she knows I taught her.
Everything she knows.

Everything I say
she takes to heart.
Everything she takes
she takes apart.

That's my daughter in the water
every time she fell I caught her.
Every time she fell.
That's my daughter in the water,
I lost every time I fought her.
Yea, I lost every time.

Every time she blinks
she strikes somebody blind.
Everything she thinks
blows her tiny mind.
That's my daughter in the water,
who'd have ever thought her?
Who'd have ever thought?
That's my daughter in the water,
I lost everytime I fought her
Yea, I lost every time.

Loudon Wainwright III's song "Daughter"

Old House and One Day at a Time.

It's a process, and a different process for each individual. Lately, my Mom, and several of my parents friends, have been feeling a pull towards a house that my parents lived in from 1980-1985. It's right around the corner from our home...a house that I drive past several times a day. Joe King (my Dads best man and best friend) has had a dream that (a young version of my) Dad is standing on the back porch, laughing (as he always did), shouting "Come on in Joe! Don't be scared". When he told Mom about his dream, she said that she too has been feeling like she needed to visit the old house. So, on day 49, we headed over. I've heard many {crazy, inappropriate, insane} stories about all the good times had at 365 Main Street. My parents said that yes, it's a dump now - and yes, it was a dump way back when. But it's where they fell in love. We contacted the owner of the house who said unfortunately the house had been gutted, but that we were more than welcome to take a look around. When we walked inside Mom told me where everything was, and described in detail the layout of the house and told several funny stories about the good times had in this tiny home. She pointed out to the yard to where the dog kennel was, and their garden...to the tub where all of Kizzys puppies were born, and to the little room that my parents shared (and to the window where Moms underwear were hanging on the day that PopPop Callahan barged in!). Mom cried a bit, and I could tell that being at 365 Main Street was what she needed to wish Dad along to his next life. For me though, it wasn't what I needed...which actually added to my sadness. 

The front of 365 Main Street.

The house where they fell in love. 

Not much has changed...just moving the door a bit to the right and removing the window. This is the porch where Dads been standing and laughing on Joes dreams. 

The owner of the house told us that we were welcome to keep anything that we found inside the house. Tucked away in the corner was an old piece of bouy, from one of Dads traps, which is now over 31 years old....

When we got home, Mom pulled out some photos of the old house. From top left there is Dad in their room, sleeping on their mattress (which just laid on the floor) with Moms cat "Booger". The next is Christmas morning in their little house, this was the day that Dad proposed. In the middle is Mom Dad and Kizzy on the back porch. Bottom left is Dad with booger on Christmas morning and to the right is Mom with their dogs and Pheasants from one of her first hunting trips. 

 When we got home I napped for a bit, trying to shake it - and couldn't. So I went out to my Dads garage - into the "War Room"....surrounded by all of his bows and arrows that he made, and deer skulls that we'd painted when I was a little kid. I grabbed a "wish" candle and wrote on it a little prayer - and then lit it and sat in meditation. There was a lot going through my mind - memories, sadness, frustrations, anger....but it ended with me as a little girl, sitting next to him by a river, resting my head on his shoulder. One day at a time, one day at a time.

I once asked a bird,
"How is it that you fly in this gravity
Of darkness?"
She responded,
"Love lifts
Me."

~Hafiz

Forty Nine Days.

My Dad died 49 days ago. There are moments that it feels like it's been an eternity,  there are days that it feels like only yesterday, and then there are days where it just doesn't seem real. Though I have been wanting and searching for him, he hasn't been around....not in my dreams... no "signs". A few times I have woken up in the middle of the night, and hoping that he was there I would say out loud "DAD? Dad? Is that you?". I have tried calling out to him in the car, and screaming his name out at the beach, but he hasn't come. In Buddhism they believe that the soul takes 49 days to find it's next life, for the spirit to be born again into it's next adventure. So maybe that's why I haven't felt him...because maybe he's still been in transition. I'm not a religious person, but I feel more connected to Buddhism than any other organized religion. So for 49 days now I have been praying that his soul finds a home, and some peace. I have been clinging to him, with two hands, tight grasp, and maybe that's whats keeping him from moving on...so today I'm lighting a candle, taking in some silence, and saying goodbye...offering up my final prayer that he is wherever he needs to be. With Karma like his, this next life he's about to embark on is bound to be pretty fucking amazing. I only wish that I could join him wherever he is, but there's time for that I suppose - and he'll be waiting for me until I get there..and when I do, I'll have lots of stories to tell, "World Dominations" to brag about and some epic tall-tale-Fishing-stories.

Death is one of two things...

Either it is annihilation, and the dead have no consciousness of anything;

or, as we are told, it is really a change:

a migration of the soul from one place to another.

~ Socrates ~

Obligations.

Everyone keeps telling me that "it gets easier", and "you'll miss him less each day", things of that nature. First of all, I appreciate everyone wanting to comfort me, but sometimes a *hug* says it best -- because it hasn't gotten easier...it's actually become much more painful with each day. And I miss him more every minute, every hour a new depth to this emptiness that I didn't know could exist...which is okay, because I don't want there to ever be a day when I don't miss him. This all gets more real and more permanent as time passes. I don't know if it's because people have noticed lately that I'm particularly sad, or if people feel comfortable to finally approach me, and I know that everyone is coming from a place of kindness and sincerity - but please, keep your m*f'ing condolences to yourself and just give me a real, geniuine hug, because that will make me feel better. Martha Stanwood said it best, "Cailin, the pain is never going to go away - or become any less - but it'll evolve into something that you are able to live with. You'll miss him always."

Now that we've gotten that out of the way...

This photo was taken by a friend on Sumner Avenue in Strathmere. Two deer, on our beach, waves in the background and stripers swimming around under the sea. Since I was a kid this was where I spent most of my time with my Dad. This is the street where he taught me how to surf. This is the street where he taught me to throw a seine net for bait fish. This is the street where we caught fish off the jetty (back before all this "beach replinshment" covered it up). I have millions of memories with my Dad, and some of the best ones happened here. One of the only times that we had fun apart was when he was in the woods, in a tree stand, deer hunting. Well goddamn goddamn....if this scenario isn't a sign from him than I don't know what is!?

"so I will always lean my heart
as close to your soul
as I can."

~Hafiz~

DadDadDadDad

When I was a little kid and my Dad was out at sea, I would pick up the marine radio and say "DadDadDadDadDadDadDadDad". He said that the guys on the boat would shout, "Snapper, she's looking for you."

Well, I feel like that's what I've been doing lately, shouting "DadDadDadDad", waiting for a response. They say that if you amputate your arm, even though its gone, your body still believes that it's there. Like your body and your mind can't quite grasp that what was once there is no longer. That's how I feel right now. Like I'm looking at my amputated arm, seeing that its not there- but it FEELS like its still there and I can't quite wrap my head around it actually being gone. It's become quite the mindfuck. 

As silly as some may think it is, I love oracle cards. And I have been specific to not just but any deck, but only the ones that resonate with me. I have "Ask Your Guides", "Osho's Tarot", and "Spirit Guides". Well the other day, before we were heading out for Summit, Ryan, Paige and I picked a Spirit Guide card. The one that picked me was Pueo (Hawaiian Owl) which says "Your ancestral spirit guides are offering you guidance now, so pay close attention to signs and omens from them". In the booklet, it continues...

"You can receive guidance from your ancestors in the spirit world, no matter what their age or when they died. They're offering you help in many ways right now, so pay close attention to the signs they give you. This guidance can come to you in many forms, whether through your eyes, ears, feelings, or thoughts. Often a particular animal making an appearance before you is a way in which your ancestral guide is trying to reach you. You might hear something that makes you think of a specific ancestor, or simply feel their presence. 

Repetition is key here. In whatever ways your ancestors attempt to contact you, signs continue to show up that make you think of your deceased loved ones, know that these physical manifestations demonstrate that they're with you."

Obviously I got chills when I picked this card and read the meaning. I decided that one my way to summit and while I was up in the mountains that I'd try to move and be with more awareness than usual...

It happened when kelsea and I left early for chai. The cool morning had an auspicious feeling to it from the moment that I walked out the door. We got in the car and shortly after pulling out of the driveway there was a raven that flew alongside our car for the length of the road. I felt something as it flew alongside us, and was even more moved that a raven flew alongside the car upon our return home too. When I got back to the house I looked up the symbolism of the raven. 

The raven is not just a symbolism of death, but also of communication. Legend says that they are the ultimate oracle, and that they reveal omens and signs.  Moreover, the raven is a messenger too, so its business is in both keeping and communicating deep mysteries. They are the holder of ancestral memories. 

*Digest That For A Bit*

Yesterday when I was walking around boulder, just strolling, taking in the sunshine, and I picked up my phone and called my Dad. It wasn't intentional, obviously- as much as I struggle with it, I KNOW that he's dead, but it was just habit. Whenever I travel he has been the one I share my stories and adventures with. So I picked up my phone, called "Dad" for some random rambling and an "I love you", and was brought back to reality when I heard a lady saying"This number has been disconnected" over the line. It's just going to take some time I suppose, but I will take comfort in all the things around me that serve as a reminder that he is everywhere and inside of me, today and every day, and I'll be keeping my eyes peeled for any ravens that are cruising the skies....

If You Have to Pee...PEE.

I told my friend Kate the other day that I just wanted to cry, all day. And she said "Well, if you have to pee...pee." And so I cried....


There are many waves to grieve, and there are many stages to the process of grieving. I have been told that I need to:

• Dance.
• Laugh.
• Drink.
• Cry.
• Sleep.

This, people have said, is the cure for a broken heart. 

Well....Saturday night just about summed it up. High heels and whiskey with friends at the Heritage Party @ the Deauville in Strathmere is where it all began. If there is any possibility of dancing, you are damn sure that I'll be dancing (thank you Mom, I got this from you. And my Dad was always known to tear up the dance floor too). I was told that some people thought that I was "wild" and "crazy", but I don't give a fuck. I can't sit in a chair because people are too insecure to bust a move, and anyone who judges someone having fun is doing so because they don't.know.how. I laughed my ass off all night. And I drank. Sipping whiskey and a club soda. Later moving to beer. I cooled it down once we got to the Dead Dog in Sea Isle. I was tapped out and ready to just kick it with friends. My feet hurt from dancing, my head was a touch cloudy with whiskey and the smile on my face couldn't have gotten any bigger if I'd tried. We listened to the girl strum away on stage and ate and laughed. Towards the end of the night everything became a downward spiral. There was a domestic abuse incident outside, there was drama with the drunks inside, so I just posted up and tried to wrap my head around the good night gone bad. What is it about a great night that makes people angry? I'll never understand. Out of no where, completely unprovoked, I was verbally assaulted by one of the 'surfer bro bros' that was out. He came at me spouting off about me being retarded and making pretty fucked up digs about my 'dead dad'. Completely in shock and caught off guard I just sat there and cried as he continued with his unprovoked profanities. Eventually my cousin Jenny came out to smoke a cigg and when she heard what he was saying she freaked out. Megan heard it all and came out to hold me as I just sat there crying (pitiful, I know. I shoulda knocked him out...but my arms hurt too bad from CrossFit). Jenny literally chased him off as he CONTINUED to shout at me. Megan carried me home as I cried and snotted and dry-heaved. I must have said a thousand times "I'm just so sad, I'm just so sad". And so we got home, she cuddled me on the couch and rocked me to sleep as I cried and cried. I got very little sleep that night seeing as that I had to teach yoga the next day, my eyes swollen shut from the previous-nights cryfest.

Well I went to sleep last night at 8pm and didn't get up til 9:30 this morning, and if there weren't waves then I would still be in bed. I feel like I could sleep for an eternity. 

Osho says that the people we hold closest to us are actually, physically a part of us. So when that person dies, a part of you dies. So not only are you mourning the loss of that person, but you are actually mourning for yourself - because a part of YOU has died. There have been times in my life that I feel like my Dad filled all of me. He was the inspiration for my wanderlust, he was my anchor to my family, he was the fuel for my fun, and my best friend. Osho says that eventually the pain will pass, but that space where he lived will always be empty. As time passes that space will be filled up with the love and presence of others, but it will never quite be the same. 

So....if you see me dancing, laughing, drinking, or crying ... either join me or get outta my way. Because grieving the loss of someone SO GREAT is going to take a long time...a lot of dance parties, a lot of laughing, a bunch of booze, and boxes of tissues. Thanks to everyone who was a part of the good times the other night. 

Shake it Out. Shake it Out.

Life Celebration Pt.4

Loving and missing Dad.

This found Brooke and John at the store right after the services. Holy shit.

Very little sleep and then I had to teach yoga. Brooke came this morning and had this wall hanging for me. After the luncheon yesterday her and Johnny walked to the antique store across the street to grab his sister a gift for her birthday. This literally FELL off the shelf and when they picked it up it was the Winnie the Pooh quote I posted the day that my Dad died. Obviously Dad wanted for me to have this. Thanks John and Brooke, I'm glad that it found you :)

Life Celebration Pt.3

Mom and Katie.

TA telling hysterical stories about Dad back in college.

Richard Schad chiming in on the details of the college days...

Andrew Welker, the power hooker.

At this point I'm not even sure WHAT the fuck was happening.

And the wine kept flowing and the stories kept coming.

Life Celebration Pt.2

Kill em and eat em.

Story time.

And so the laughter and celebration continued.

Life Celebration Pt.1

Uncle Sean (#10 of the 10 Callahan kids) had everyone holding their sides because they were laughing so hard.

Katie and Mom having a laugh.

My two New Yorkers came down to honor dad.

Gina and Me.

And then we got home and shit got crazy. Food and laughter and LOTS of booze.

Yesterday was Dads service, and what a beautiful day it was. We were shitting ourselves the night before because the forecasts were calling for rain and high winds...and our venue was outside. The Whitebrier was the perfect place...it's where my mom worked back in the day when she met my Dad. So once again, the heavens above blessed us with a beautiful day to celebrate my Dad's life. It was a packed house, filled with family, friends and even some who have never met Dad but wanted to be there to celebrate his life. We told stories and laughed and cried and laughed and cried...it was exactly the way that Dad would have wanted it. I wrote an outline for my speech, and I rambled for a long time around the subject, but I'll just include the backbone of the speech.

(It started out with me approaching the mic saying "I'm powerful and amazing" several times to fight back the tears and deliver this speech for my Dad):

My Dad taught me how to Live, like REALLY live. From the time that I was a little kid, and even through his death - he has given me a passion for life that is so strong, so intense, so vibrant. Sometimes I feel stressed because there aren't enough minutes in my day, days in my week, or weeks in my year to do all that I want to do. I want to taste everything, and see everything, and experience everything. This passion was a gift from my Dad. 

You all may know him as a loud, crazy man -- KILL EM AND EAT EM -- I GOT IT!! -- LEFT RIGHT!! but my Dad was also a wise, kind man who always knew just what to say. No question was too stupid, no emotion too silly. And even in this time of sadness I'm comforted by a conversation that we once had years back, he said...

"Cailin, life is like a river. It is going to bend right and left, and some days it is going to rage with water and at times it's going to run dry. YOU CAN'T CONTROL THE RIVER. You can only control how you handle yourself and how you respond to that, and that makes you who.you.are."

Well this fucking river has taken me down a turn that I don't like, and now it has run dry. And some days this sadness seems so great and so dark that I might lose myself in it completely. But then I remember our conversation and I know that I'm going to be okay. We are All going to be okay. Because my Dad taught us ALL how to life. And through his passing he reminds us that:

• each day is a blessing
• each breath is a miracle
• every relationship is to be cherished
• never underestimate the power of friendship
• and that an ice cold beer can turn any day around. 

Osho says "Be a drunkard, drunk with life, with the wine of existence. Don't remain sober. The sober person remains dead. Drink the wine of life. It has SO much poetry, and SO much love, and SO much juice.   I tell you you are born and you will certainly die, but something in you was before your birth and something is there which will remain after your death. And that something is life. Life is eternal."

My dad may be gone, but he lives on in all of us today, and for all the days to come. He was so beautiful, and so bright and so fucking vibrant -- and a Life like that doesn't just disappear, it can't. So try not to be sad, but to celebrate his life by living each day of yours to its height and depth. 

God bless ya Dad. I love you. 



After the beautiful service we headed to the Abbey for a luncheon, where Jim and Christian Mahr played music and we ate, drank, laughed and remembered Dad through stories and photos.