Seeking the Silver Bullet

We want 

A solution

An answer

A pill

A medicine

A magical being

To make suffering end


In order 

To be 

Skinnier 

Healthier

More wealthy

Successful

Lovable 

Make life easier


If only we could wave a magic wand

Or stick to the diet

Or do the affirmations

Or follow the right guru 

Or read the right books 

Or do the exercises

Or make the bad people go away


We desire 

Quick fixes

Instant solutions 


We wanted to be better yesterday

Last year 

Ten years ago

And still we’re waiting.


Meditation 

Doesn’t make you better

It doesn’t provide 

The silver bullet

To curing life’s ills

It is not the be all and end all 

To achieving happiness


But it does take the edge off 

Allows for moments of clarity

Moments of peace 

Moments of stillness 


It is free

You don’t need any special skills

You don’t need to be any kind of person

You don’t need to believe in anything or anyone


Just pay attention

Without judgement 

And repeat.

This post originally appeared at my Vivalu Meditation site. 

Getting Married (Part 3)

An artistic representation of what I looked like. From here.

Part 1  Part 2 

Forty dollars,

And another form where I fill out

Every address that I have lived at

Since I was 16,

And twenty-four hours later

I receive an email to say my police background check

Is clear

And the certificate is on its way.

A week later it arrives

I book the courier

To collect my passport

Police certificate

And prayers for a speedy return

The courier collects the parcel

See you in 4-5 weeks

He says.

No.

I say.

I want to see you walking in that door with my passport and visa by the end of the week. Got it? 

He laughs. 

He doesn't get it. 

It takes the Embassy three days to process receipt of my passport.

Then nothing changes for almost three weeks.

My status reads "Ready"

It has been "Ready" since before the interview.

I lose my voice

Develop a horrible cough

I want to stay in bed and never get out.

I must be miserable to be around

I don't care.

Get me out of this limbo. I'm done. I've been waiting for 10 months.

I feel pathetic. Ten months is nothing in the grand scheme of things.

I take my first sick day since arriving in London.

I cannot face work or people or getting out of my pajamas.

Every time I've skyped Aaron in the last few days I cry. Sob uncontrollably.

I'm sick of my love being trapped behind a screen.

At 5pm the status changes.

"Administrative processing"

The stories on visa journey* are frightening.

Some people have gotten to this part of the process

And waited another year.

I feel utterly hopeless.

Another week rolls by.

Everyone is being optimistic and supportive

The system doesn't care. I am nothing. I am not human.

I am six numbers and an alien.

"Approved".

Wait, what?!

We check the website repetitively to make sure it hasn't changed.

Two days later I receive a tracking number from the courier.

My passport is on its way.

I'm headed to my love.

And after 10 months, and three weeks...

I'm on the plane! I'm on the plane! I'M ON THE PLANE! 

In ten hours I'll be with my love! 

The head of the cabin crew announces that we'll soon be landing in Denver

It is minus 10 degrees celcius outside

Every passenger does a double take

We are the only plane landing at this time

The customs queue is short

I have read that I may be taken to a separate room for my customs interview

I am called

The officer doesn't make eye contact

I hand over my passport

And a thick sealed envelope from the embassy

Containing all my documents

X-rays, police certificates, birth certificates

And every address I have lived at since I was 16. 

Right thumb on the screen please Miss Lyons. 

(Right thumb on the screen). 

When did you last leave the United States Miss Lyons? 

I left at the end of August...

Silence. 

I was here on a J1. For camp.

I know. 

I laugh a little. He has still not made eye contact. 

Four fingers of your right hand please Miss Lyons. 

(Four fingers of my right hand on the screen). 

You know you have 90 days to marry.

Yep! 

He doesn't look up. He stamps my passport, places the envelope in a pile. 

Congratulations. Thank you Miss Lyons. NEXT. 

The world is covered in snow

And I'm with my love

Everything is going to be WONDERFUL! 

Now we just have to get married! 

Read the final installment of Getting Married HERE! 

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

*VisaJourney is an immensely useful, and free, website about the American immigration process. 

Getting Married (Part 2)

The US Embassy, London 

(Read Part 1 here)

The interview date has been set!
Next week I'll be with my love!
THE WAIT IS OVER!
The morning is bright and blue skied
It makes me nervous
Big events of my life usually happen in the rain.

I arrive at the Consulate
A folder two inches thick with paper under my arm
Duplicate copies of my application
Forms forms forms
DS160, I-134, medical report, birth certificates
Police certificate dated within the last six months
Passports
American standard passport pictures
Affidavits of support
Pictures
Evidence.

The check-in takes half an hour
I am given a ticket
I sit with a man from Manchester and a woman from Cambridge
His wife is in Austin
Coincidentally, so is Cambridge's husband
We have all been waiting 9-10 months for this day

We watch the sanitised images
Of the United States of America
Flash across the big screen at the end of the room

America knows how to put on a show

The Aaron Copland-esque soundtrack triumphantly plays across the heads of the waiting 

America. Innovation. Diversity. See all that America has to offer. 
My heart aches for my love and the land that will soon be my home.
I check my ticket number again. I110.
I101. I102. I103.
An hour later I am called to the window.

The woman behind the window is being trained.
She has never seen the software before and is being walked through
Step by step,
Click by interminable click,
The man training her is patient.
They are both kind and full of smiles.
I try to remember to breathe.
Page by page I hand over my documentation.

DS160, I-134, medical report, birth certificate

Police certificate dated within the last six months

Passports

American standard passport pictures

Affidavits of support

Please write your name on the back and sign here.
I am shaking. My mouth is dry.
Your application looks great Miss Lyons!
I smile.

The man asks for my Australian police certificate.
My heart and stomach simultaneously drop to the floor.
I don't have one.
He says I need a police check for every country I have lived in for more than two years from when I was sixteen.
Where does it say that?!
I ask him,
Where does it say that? The website asks for a police check dated within the last six months.*
He shrugs. It's very clear.
I am crying. No where does it say you need a police check from every country you have lived in for more than two years from the time you were sixteen.
Don't worry. It won't delay your application. 
But I won't get my visa today?
No. But it won't take long. That's all you need. 
I am so frustrated I want to scream.
Do you know how long it takes to get a piece of paper mailed from Australia?!
I wanted to leave yesterday. March. January.
They take my passport and pile of papers.
I am told to go and wait in the waiting area until my number is called again.

I sit and sob.
A man offers to get me a tissue.
I cannot speak.
Another hour passes. The video is back to the beginning.

America. Innovation. Diversity. See all that America has to offer. 

I am called to another window.

The woman is kind and full of smiles.

I am still crying. 

Okay Miss Lyons. Do you still intend to marry Aaron? 

I nod through tears. 

I need you to say it out loud honey. 

Yes. Yes. A thousand times yes. 

She smiles. Great. I'm just going to ask you a few questions. 

How did you meet Aaron? 

She has tissues ready. 

Your application looks great, honey. It's all approved except for the police check. So once we have that we're good to go. 

She hands me back my passport and a list of instructions. 

Outside the sky is still infuriatingly blue.

*The immigration website has since been updated to reflect these changes.

Part 1, Part 3, Part 4

Getting Married (Part 1)

A sample of the paperwork. Sorry trees. 

In November 2012
Over the slight crackle of
Another late night skype
We decided that if this long distance
Romance
Was going to continue
We needed to be together
On the same continent
And to do that, we needed to get married

In January
The air was cold
The trees were bare
We were warm and happy
In the cabin in the woods
And submitted our forms
For a K1 visa - the fiance visa
So we could be together.

I returned to London
With hope in my heart
My lease was due to finish in March
And we (rather optimistically) hoped it would be done and dusted by then
Save moving twice

The end of January rolled by
And then all of February
My lease expired
I moved to Ruislip in the middle of a snow storm

Every day I skyped my love
We sent emails and messages
Across the Atlantic
I love you
Today is the day!

I went to work
And ate and slept
And everyday checked the status of our application
And we heard
Precisely nothing

By April
I was feeling angsty
And angry and depressed
I was underpaid and
Under-appreciated at work
The Camino called
I quit my job
And left

On the 1st of May
My blue backpack and I
Went for a long walk
Started in France
Up and over the glorious Pyrenees
And into Spain

A month of walking
Waking, walking
"Pacing in a straight line"
Eating and sleeping
And talking to my love
And asking the universe
Please, please, please
Let TODAY be the day we hear something!

At the end of the walk
Still nothing
Not a word

I went back to England
Miserable, frustrated
Sick and tired
Anemic from a month in a country that actively despises vegetarians
Chilled by the coldest Spanish May in fifty years.

I needed a visa for camp
And went to the Consulate
Armed with paperwork
To show I would return to the UK
Even though I didn't want to.
The officer asked
Precisely nothing.
Three days later
I was on a jetplane
Headed for my love

Two months of summer
Bliss
Green leaves shimmering on the trees
Blue sky.
In the middle of rehearsal
We got the letter! It's been approved!
I didn't know whether to laugh or cry
The kids all cheered

The rehearsal had to continue

August. Now we'll know.
They've approved it.
Not long to go now.
A month at most.
Re-send all the documentation, and myself, to London.

September.
Not a word from the Consulate
Or the processing centre

Tiny nuggets of information
Discovered by combing forums
Stumbling across websites
More fees
More forms

The process has now been digitized.
Re-submit all the documentation, line by line

Online

The help line cannot help
Please register online
I submit my information to yet another website
My case now has 6 reference numbers
I still cannot speak to a human
The automated email responds
Please check the website
The homepage leads to a FAQ page
The FAQ page leads to a status page
The status page leads back to the homepage
I still have no information
All of September passes by
Then all of October
The leaves begin to change colour
And finally drop
We switch the heating on.

I'm living in comfort
I can work while I wait
I'm not fleeing war
Or famine
Or dire circumstances
Life is fine

But I want to be with my love
And the wait
Is awful.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

Just Around the Riverbend

I was at uni
And I was learning
And acting
And surrounded by amazing people
And I was so depressed
I was numb
I actually felt nothing
And I tortured myself
Literally and metaphorically
And kept asking
When will I ever be good enough
To do something amazing
And then I got to perform my own material
And I was like
Hey, I really like this
And then I got to travel the world
And my brain exploded with possibility

I was engaged
And we were gonna get married!
Everything was lovely!
We were in love!
And then we broke up
And I was miserable
And wondered when anything was ever going to stop feel like crying again
And I sat with my bestie at the markets
And said
"ARGH! What is next?!"
And the next day got an email about working in the theatre full-time, and getting an agent
And everything changed
(My bestie was lamenting that he would ever meet someone.  Just over a year from that day, he was married).
And I got into drama school in London
And I packed my bags and moved to a whole other country

I got there
And was really broke
More broke than I'd ever been
I was living the dream
Of studying theatre in London
And I was miserable
My voice was shot
My self-esteem was invisble (again)
I couldn't get a job
And it got to the point
Where I had exactly one week's rent left in my savings
And that was it
And I won a scholarship
And I was able to stay

And then school was over
And I got to go back to camp
And I finally worked in the Music Shed
And taught voice
And realized I had a skill and a knack for teaching singing
And fell in love with it all over again

Back in London
I discovered what it was like
To be earning minimum wage
Less than the London living wage
And to work and work and work
And having nothing left
And you have to go back and do it all again
Because otherwise
Then you really have nothing
But sitting in offices around London
I'm getting paid to write my own material
And it feels wonderful
And liberating

I got to fall in love again
I got to work again, sometimes for what I felt I was worth
I'm going to perform my own material

We never know what's next
We have to do the work
And hope and pray
That it will work out
Sometimes it won't
But something else will come along
And it will be even better
Than what we could have hoped for

And if all else fails
Hide under the doona and watch cheesy Disney cartoons
Until you feel better

The end.

*And writing stuff like this reminds me that in my insanely privileged bubble... life ain't so bad. It may SEEM bad sometimes... but it's not so bad, you know?!

Hurry/Wait

Someone is waiting
Two someones actually
My love
And I
Waiting
For my visa to come through
So I can move to America
And we can be together
It's partly why I'm walking 780km across northern Spain
"Pacing in a straight line"
As Aaron's dad put it
Waiting in London I was going stir crazy
My life
Just a game of waiting
Filling time

We had optimistically booked a ticket for March
The visa didn't arrive
The plane left without me
And I sobbed in frustration
London stayed miserably cold and bleak
I worked hard
I spent time with friends
I tried to embrace London
I hoped to land an acting job
Nothing came
I felt lonely and frustrated
Dispirited, disinterested, and disenchanted

I got the idea to do the Camino again
This time solo
This was for me
It would fill the time
In a positive and productive way

I'm walking
My feet are sore
I'm meeting wonderful people
I'm breathing in the Spanish landscape
It's so beautiful
Every step
An affirmation that
I'm here
And a step closer
To my love

Hurry visa
I'll wait
I'll pace across Spain until you arrive
And give thanks to the universe
That I can be here

Buen camino
Don't stop walking
The journey
Is the destination
Is life
Is love and joy and heartbreak and beauty
And being

The end.

Oh, The Places You'll Go!

Well, this video pretty much sums it up.

The end.

It's My Party

by Janice Lucier

Cry
Like nobody's
Watching

The end.

Good Grief

We met.
We traveled the world together
We walked 780km across northern Spain together
He loved music and singing and played guitar and saxophone
He proposed twice in two different countries, the second time in front of my family with the ring we had designed together
Dreams of a house in the 'burbs
And a life of stability
Together.

And then one night
He called
And literally over the phone
Said it was over.
The end.
No explanation, no chance for discussion. Please collect your things,
Goodbye.

And by coincidence
Or fate or providence
Or sheer good fortune
Two days later I started a meditation course
In the introductions
I could barely even say my own name
Literally burst into tears
And sobbed out my story
Witness the breath
You are not your emotions
It is okay to cry
Every week
A new practise
A daily commitment
To just be
I went to sleep every night with the ipod he had given me under my pillow
With Sarah Edelman meditations
You are safe
And you are well

And in the year that followed
I cried more than I ever had in my life
But, every day
Meditation
And all my teachers
Jon Kabat-Zin, Louise L. Hay, Doreen Virtue, Anodea Judith, Eckart Tolle
Lorna and Judy and all the women and men in my class
Kept me sane
Breathe in, breathe out,
Be here, now
Without judgement
I started running again
Ran my first half-marathon
I decided to become an actor
And quit my day job
And within a couple of months
Had my first paid acting gig
And had been accepted to drama school in London
I got singing and dance lessons
I traveled on my own
I saw my idols performing
I moved overseas and dared to live the life I had always wanted
I learnt to stop hating myself (that in itself, the greatest milestone. Oh to look at younger me now and laugh at how she couldn't even look herself in the mirror, how she wished so much to be more, to be better, to be different, to be so not herself!)

It was harder than I ever could have imagined
I'm not kidding when I say I cried and hurt and raged with grief
But the meditation, the running, the eating well,
The following my path
Because it was my own
Was freeing and liberating and self-affirming

And now
Three years later
The grief is still there
Though far more manageable
Life has changed
I have a new love
New adventures to look forward to
And a completely different perspective

I just have to breathe
And be present
And
This too shall pass
And all is well. 

The end.

This is Me Breathing

from here

Arriving back in London 

After three weeks in a cabin in the woods

Is an assault on the senses

The advertising

The people 

The rush.

Within ten minutes of getting off the plane

I could feel 

Depression

Anxiety

Rising 

And on a day where I feel bleary because I spent the night flying across the Atlantic

To arrive in a city that, try as I might, doesn't feel like home

To travel in peak hour and feel like the stereotype of a: 

Sardine in a can/rat on a treadmill/tiny insignificant speck

To see all those miserable people! 

To stand in the shower and sob because I was back

To feel like the cabin in the woods was a dream

To miss my love across the ocean 

I had a thought. 

I don’t want to get sucked in to the misery 

I don’t want to be hardened by the city

I don’t want to feel helpless hopeless and horrified

I want to see beyond the billboards and concrete tunnels 

And hear something other than

I can’t/It’s too hard/it’s so tough 

So here is a promise to myself

Everyday

I will write about something inspiring 

Something magical, beautiful, delightful,

Just plain old nice

And hope 

It makes a difference.

The end.