Stephen's Web

When I first met Stephen, he was a therapist at the Sacramento Complementary Health Center, and was gracious enough to give me a phone interview for an article to be published in the Midtown Monthly. It was my first paying writing gig, although I had already self published my first book, Portals to the Soul, the Psyche & a More Enchanted Life. That was about 10 years ago.

Now we work together in various professional and creative capacities at Middle Way Health, a wellbeing center Stephen founded in 2000 that currently has 14 practitioners under its roof. None of this was really by accident, however, and a lot has transpired between then and now (March 2015).

When Stephen approached me not long after the article was published about helping him write a book of his own, he was transitioning into monkhood. By the time we had our first face-to-face encounter he was wearing red Tibetan robes and told me his Buddhist name was Lama Yeshe Jinpa (Lama Jinpa or Lama la for short). It seemed a drastic change in a short amount of time from my perspective, but I liked his vibe and went with the flow.

And that’s how it began – going with the flow.

We met at Stephen’s then-office in an 18th & I street Tudor in Downtown Sacramento once a week. The book was to be nonfiction, based on Joseph Campbell’s The Hero’s Journey and Buddhism’s Five Precepts of Liberation. He had a lot to teach me about both, and I felt grateful to have such a willing teacher. While at times the information was dizzying, there was also a very calm, comforting energy about the space. So calm, in fact, that while my mind was often in overdrive, there were plenty of times I could have simply slipped into slumber. It was just one of the several conundrums to come.

Once we had the backbone of the book completed, Stephen’s vision enlarged. He thought a fiction component would complement the nonfiction aspect; His plan being to create a workshop series based on the book(s). So writing a novel together we set out to do, seemingly pulling it all from thin air…

And of course life and work and what-have-you intervened. For instance, one day Stephen appeared at our weekly meeting in civilian clothes. He said that this was a long time coming, as his practice had been struggling from too many clients being unfamiliar and uncomfortable with his traditional Tibetan Buddhist apparel. So although he was hanging up his robes, he was still to be a Lama - a teacher of Tibetan Buddhism, as well as a LMFT – therapist to the community.

Saving his career and settling back into a traditional lifestyle with new wife Sabrina, Stephen soon needed an updated website, a brochure for this and that, an article here and there… and I was capable and willing. But as life ramps up, so must we. And with new pressures and old ones growing, personality tendencies tend to emerge.

I learned that Stephen’s typical laissez-faire air is sometimes countered by an assertive, almost anxious impatience, usually sprinkled with a pinch of positivity. Feeling trapped within this dichotomy at times, I practiced holding my own inner anxiety in check.

Then came the decision to invite His Holiness the Dalai Lama to Sacramento via Lama la’s Buddhist organization Lion’s Roar. We worked on the vision and wrote the invitation together, soon attending meetings with various movers and shakers interested in funding or directing the project. People came out of the woodwork to be involved – I myself was honored to have a role. And yet before we knew it (although we could sense it coming), politics engulfed the plan in flames.

Still harboring hope for a future visit, we buried ourselves in another expansion project. Stephen moved to a larger office – a Victorian on 19th Street, where his assistant Judy Lynn Taylor could have more space to do her Shamanic Healing practice, his wife Sabrina Schultz could begin nutrition consulting, and I could start a Writing Coaching practice. There was enough space where people could actually come together – Stephen’s family, his dharma students, fellow professionals and clients – and it began to feel more like a community.

Meanwhile, I got married and went freelance full time. Meanwhile still, we continued chipping away at the book together, watching this crazy adventure and blossoming characters come to life before our eyes. We poured our own experiences into the scenes, the back story, the heroism, and the vulnerability, which required a significant level of openness and trust. I felt respected by, as well as a kinship with Stephen that resembled my relationship with my own father.

The workshop vision deepened as we juggled a connection between it and the novel. While it was difficult for me to imagine how Stephen was going to implement this massively unique endeavor, it wasn’t the first time I had to go on faith alone… So I practiced patience gathering, deep breathing, and clarification-attempting communications that sometimes made me feel we were coming from two different dimensions.

One more move, more expansion, and even more space acquired, Middle Way Health then blossomed into actual office space across from Sacramento’s historic McKinley Park, which borders Downtown and East Sacramento. Now with more physical space as well, the vastness of Stephen’s projects became more transparent and it was clear that he had zero plans to slow down any time soon. Which meant, more plates for the rest of us to spin. But also, more opportunities to grow and connect.

There was now designated space in which clients, colleagues, friends and family could mingle; adding more of a personal and communal connection to the mix. Weekly Tai Chi classes began with Inner Circle founder Robert Nakashima. A blog was started, and blog book one ultimately published. Interns were brought on, we started an online magazine (La Dolce Vita), and began holding Open Houses. The workshops began, Middle Way Health Foundation was launched, and more health practitioners (with more varied healing modalities) joined the team. An Art Gallery was established, Open Clinic was launched, and formal waiting room unveiled.

Last but not least for now (still March 2015), Stephen’s, or Lama Jinpa’s Buddhist organization Lion’s Roar recently acquired a charming church around the corner on B Street. It has been the grandest maneuver yet, and may well be the most connective – being not only a place for Lion’s Roar and its students to grow… but for many of Stephen’s endeavors to occasionally come together in one place.

So not unsurprisingly, his time has become stretched thin, leaving the rest of us to struggle with the consequences of all this change.

All of this has left little time to finish the book – Oh, yes, the book - although we have continued to chip away at it here and there and are achingly close to completion. Only thing is, it’s time to publish another issue of La Dolce Vita, we’ve just created a healthcare provider directory that needs to be put on the website, the new Dream Life Room needs more decorating TLC, we may be extending another invite to the Dalai Lama in the near future, and, well… Oh, wait - Did I say, “only” thing is…?

Seeking Home

The act of moving, when you think about it (whether a town, residence or work space), can bring up a lot of things… Fear of change, a sudden nostalgia for what we’ve got, apprehensiveness about uncertainty... On one hand there’s excitement because you’re looking at the great possibilities for your life. And yet on the other, the unknown -the lack of guarantees or a safety net - can give rise to anxieties and second thoughts. Whether being forced to move, choosing to move or being unable to move, life can turn chaotic when we’re trying to manage our current lives and transition to a new one at the same time.

“It’s very disorienting because of our habits,” Stephen says, “things we’ve gotten used to, routines, and the in between time” in which we rest and renew. Moving also usually “requires getting rid of something, something we spent a lot of time acquiring.” So our priorities are questioned and that can put our whole life up for review.

Pondering a possible move in the near future, my husband and I question what we’re leaving behind that’s not working for us, as well as what we hope to be gaining from the location change. Because it’s not a necessary move, we have to look inward, considering what we’re responsible for and what we’re simply reacting to. For instance, if we changed our perspective and our behavior, would our lives change for the better where we are currently, and would that be enough? What does the move symbolize for us – a fresh start, greater convenience, or a move up to a better life altogether?

“What if you couldn’t move?” Stephen asks as we discuss the reasons behind our desire to changes residences and locales. “Many people can’t.” They’re stuck in the village, stuck with the tribe, stuck in their hut, stuck with their spouse, stuck with the same view day in day out. What happens then when you need a fresh start, more convenience, or to feel you’re moving up in the world? What does one do then?

“I would redecorate,” I say chuckling but in all honesty, because I know the power of revitalizing and re-directing energy. But who couldn’t help feeling somewhat stuck in a situation from which you couldn’t escape? There are those of us who get stuck in our dramas, moving from one crisis to another; that’s what we know and that’s where we’re comfortable. Others are in perpetual search of the perfect life, building intolerance to un-pleasantries and perpetual dissatisfaction with never finding what we seek. Neither manner of living, however, is constructive or truly joy-producing.

I think further about what I would do if I couldn’t literally move when I wanted to. I would try to hold to the new mindset created when one ponders doing something as drastic as moving. I would try to come up with other ways in which to feel “we’re moving up in the world” and attempt to create some of that convenience we were hoping for. Basically, I would not return to the exact same mental space because I know there’s always a powerful symbolic aspect to change.

“If the move is not one of necessity but mere choice, then you’re moving from one psychological, spiritual place to another,” Stephens continues, “to create a different experience and a feeling of home.”

“I guess I have always been trying to create that ideal feeling of home,” I respond.

“People always say to make where you are home,” Stephen says, “but sometimes you have to change things to really feel ok, to create the environment that you want. Sometimes we have to go on a journey – whether literal or metaphorical - to find home.” Nonetheless, even when we’ve found the perfect home for us or have made some move to a better place, there’s still going to be something unresolved about our lives. And our tendency is to question why everything isn’t well and good now. But no amount of change we affect will transform the nature of life. “Unresolved” is just the state of something unfinished, amongst a myriad of other states; it doesn’t have to be a bad thing.

So rather than letting this cause us ongoing anxiety, we’d benefit ourselves by realizing it’s good to have things yet to accomplish. We actually need some unresolved things in our lives, something left to desire and work toward. This adds meaning and motivates us to keep reaching for more. When we learn to see it this way, this acceptance then allows us to finally feel the joy we’ve been denying ourselves so long.