Dr. Lisa's Bountiful Life

We Shall Overcome

When my son was small, he came home from school one day belting out the words to We Shall Overcome:

Deep in my heart, I do believe,

We shall overcome some day.

It was touching and slightly strange to hear such a solemn hymn coming from a squeaky voiced grade-schooler.

More touching still to know how much had been overcome by the time my children arrived on the scene, years after Martin Luther King Jr's death.

Today my high school sophomore daughter reflected on the fact that we now have a president who had the opportunity to ascend to this office largely due the civil rights work of MLK and his contemporaries.

She also pointed out that there are individuals who, though they might not admit it, are even now conflicted about having a black president.

Much has been overcome, and much still remains to be overcome.

But overcoming is possible, as we have come to realize.

We have, in our country, dealt with racism/sexism and every other sort of -ism one might think of. We have seen religious intolerance and gender discrimination.

And we continue to evolve.

Our children know a world that is different than the world I knew in my childhood.

A world they might not have known had we agreed to keep living with the status quo.

As we've seen in recent books & movies such as The Help, the status quo is highly fungible. Written by novelist Kathryn Stockett, The Help was a fictionalized account of middle class segregation and the phenomonon of 'hired help,' set in Jackson, Missisippi during the 1960s. This type of segregation, disturbing to contemplate, no longer legally exists.

The fact that we have progressed past this place of race-based discrimination reminds us that change is always possible--even change that seems unlikely, given that it requires shifts in societal norms and values.

Change requires that individuals like Martin Luther King, Jr., and legions of others who have championed unpopular views, be willing to sing a different song.

It requires that we buy in to the potential of hope.

Because if, deep in our hearts enough of us believe,

then it is certain 

we shall overcome some day.

Bailey Island

2012

~~~~~

Dr. Lisa's Bountiful Blog is read weekly on the Dr. Lisa Radio Hour. Show summaries are available on the Dr. Lisa website. Subscribe to podcasts of the show through iTunes and let us know what you think!

Schedule a phone or office consult with Dr. Lisa at 207 847 9393.

 

 

 

 

 

Cotton-Headed Ninnymoggins

If I was told I must relinquish all of my Christmas movies, keeping only one, I would chose Elf.

I didn't realize exactly why I found Elf so appealing until I watched the movie with my dearest one a few weeks ago.

He illuminated the situation for me: he suggested that I like Elf because I AM Elf.

No, I am not an overgrown curly-headed male who wears tights around New York City and puts syrup on his spaghetti. Rather, I am a firm believer in the spirit of Christmas, and the importance of faith and hope.

I also believe in generosity, compassion and love.

This puts me in a funny place at times, and especially so this holiday season.

This season, my first one as a divorced mother, I've had to reconfigure what Christmas looks like mentally and emotionally.

I've spent more time alone this holiday season--this entire year, in fact--than ever in my life.

And this has not been easy. I've must admit I've had my moments of sadness and despair.

But equally so, wonderment. I've come to realize that I can be a placeholder for Christmas spirit, faith and hope, all by myself. I can keep attempting to manifest love and generosity.

I can keep decking the halls regardless of who may be nearby.

Mary, as the story goes, gave birth to Jesus in less than ideal circumstances.

Good King Wenceslas kept treading "though the frost was cruel."

And Elf kept spreading cheer even when he was roundly rejected by his father and others for his inability to fit the mainstream model.

I guess I figure if Elf and his friends can convince a city full of New York cynics to lift a sleigh with their singing, I can keep believing in Christmas even when the chips are down.

No cotton-headed ninnymoggins am I.

Happy Christmas Eve, dear readers. Wishing you all the blessings of the night.

And remember, "The best way to spread Christmas cheer, is singing loud for all to hear."

No matter who may (or may not) be listening.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Whistler

There is a man in Portland's Old Port who whistles.

He does not whistle any particular tune, nor does he seem to do it for any particular reason.

Instead, he sets up shop in the small park off of Exchange Street, or across the way near the coffee shop, and lets loose a tuneless, penny-whistle tone for hours on end.

This can last, literally, for the predominance of a day.

The hours do not appear to have the same significance for this man as they might for those who stream past him on the sidewalks, hurrying to get to their downtown jobs.

Though I can't say whether he is truly homeless, the possibility certainly exists.

As does the possibility that he is not in complete sync with the world around him.

What he does seem to be in sync with is the music coming from his headphones--the music that he may be attempting to replicate with his toneless whistle.

Many people have grown annoyed with "The Whistler," as he has been labelled, in the months since he began sharing his talent with the citizens and visitors of greater Portland.

But he has for so long been at his task as to almost be a part of the landscape now.

I wonder at this--that I, like so many, have so easily grown accustomed to a man who spends hours whistling loudly in the midst of a city bustle.

I wonder at my ability to begin to look past, similarly, other disconnected, downtrodden souls whose shoulders nearly brush mine while walking along busy urban avenues.

No small amount of shame do I carry on this account.

So I suppose I owe some small debt of gratitude to "The Whistler."  Though I find him as annoying as many others do, I find him equally and strangely compelling.

He is, in his own way, a placeholder. 

He prompts me to remember that not all hear the same music I hear; or respond the same way.

He prompts me to remember that we are not all equally placed in this world.

He prompts me to silently offer compassion to those in our midst whose only means of connection is a tuneless whistle, tormenting the ears of those who stride quickly by.

 

Boston

2011

~~~~~

Dr. Lisa's Bountiful Blog is read weekly on the Dr. Lisa Radio Hour. Show summaries are available on the Dr. Lisa website. Download podcasts of the show through iTunes and let us know what you think!

Schedule an office consult with Dr. Lisa at 847 9393.

 

 

 

 

Lightshine

Tempting it is to "hide our light under a bushel."

Tempting it is, and common.

A song commonly taught to young children is "This Little Light of Mine." In this song we tell the world, "I'm going to let it shine."

But do we?

How often do we decide that we would prefer not to share our talents; that we don't want to own what is ours?

Often. Far, far too often.

Sometimes we do this because we feel that we must be humble. We downplay our abilities in the interest of modesty.

But humility and modesty do not necessitate a downplaying of abilities. We can be both humble and modest without pretending that we are less than we are. We can show up and shine in a non-boastful way.

In fact, seeking to downplay our abilities can actually backfire on us. We may come across as being inauthentic.  People wonder why we are trying to hide who we are. They become suspect.

In agreeing to a shine-free state, we also may believe that we are creating space for those around us to shine more brightly.

What we forget is that multiple lights, shining brightly, can illuminate a far greater area than one shining solo.

The danger of light-hiding is that, done long enough, it causes us to forget we have a light at all.

We begin to believe the story we have told others about ourselves.

Our self-doubt becomes the bushel, threatening to extinguish our very life force.

Until one day we begin to believe the tune we were taught when very young, and sing it once more.

Hide it under a bushel?

No.

I'm going to let it shine.

 

Lit

December 2011

~~~~~~~

Dr. Lisa's Bountiful Blog is read weekly on the Dr. Lisa Radio Hour. Show summaries are available on the Dr. Lisa website. Download podcasts of the show through iTunes and let us know what you think!

 

Need a little help with your self-shine? Schedule an office consult with Dr. Lisa at 847 9393.

Own Voice: Resonance

Many things can get in the way of us hearing our own voice; our own song.

Static, in this world, abounds.

Hearing our own voice, and truly listening to the song that comprises our heart and soul, are again two different things.

The listening, and perhaps modulating how and what we chose to sing, can be a challenging task.

Not only are we prevented from hearing by virtue of the static around us, we are also prevented from believing in what our words might represent. There is a constant chorus of other voices around and within us, calling us like Sirens to potential shipwreck.

Not that we should ever stop listening to the voices of others.  We cannot, however, allow these voices to be more persuasive than our own.

We cannot rely exclusively, or even primarily, on the voices of others when it comes to determining our actions, thoughts or emotions.

We must, instead, listen to ourselves.

This is a skill, like all skills, we must practice regularly.

We must learn to resonate with the song that we are ourselves creating.

We must learn to love the sound of our own song.

New York sidewalk 2010

 

 

 

 

Heartsong

There is nothing quite so lovely as a song.

I feel certain that this phrase has been uttered before, yet upon searching obvious sources, I find it not.

So I will say it, and with much conviction.

Last night I re-connected with my former high school music teacher and sometime duo partner, Gil. He brought his guitar to my house and we began practicing for an upcoming gig at a local country club.

We had not performed or rehearsed together since July. He began teaching again in September; I have been focused on our nascent "Dr. Lisa" radio show.

And yet, after only a few songs, we were back where we once had been: singing. Harmonizing. Collaborating musically.

My ten-year-old, Sophie, joined us for an Adele song at the beginning, and a Taylor Swift song at the end of our practice.  She helped us revive "Glitter in the Air."

Once warmed up, Gil and I easily roamed through Alison Krauss and Cole Porter. We tried out a new Colbie Caillat and tussled with the key on "Come Away with Me" by Norah Jones.

The songs poured forth.

As did the memories. Like a scent associated with a former life, each familiar melody brought back places I had been. One song reminded me of the man with whom I had spent more than half of my years; another was sweetly suggestive of a new love.

Gil and I travelled through pieces we had played at coffee shops and lounges.

And my heart, recently sore and saddened, was soothed. I once more knew the joy with which I had lived many days, trilling merrily in the shower or washing dishes in front of the kitchen window.

I found the music that has woven its way throughout my still young existence, beginning likely before I left my mother's womb.

There is nothing quite so lovely as a song.

Or so very intrinsic to a life.

 

peony

June 2011

 

 

 

 

 

 

Finding Voice

When we lose our voice, physically, that fact is plain.

A touch of laryngitis and we are forced into a state of semi-whisper, working hard so that others might hear us.

When we lose our voice, metaphorically, others may not realize it at all. Until, one day, we start talking again. At that point it can be painfully loud--or at least, loud by comparison.

Then people are startled.

Our new-found voice isn't always welcomed. It can be hard for others to want to hear.

But sometimes others are more than willing to hear us: we just need to find the right audience.

Then, gaining strength from an appreciative audience, we are able to use our voice anywhere, at any time.

Even if our voice dances uncomfortably in the ears of those around us.

If we have the strength to keep using our voice, we may have the chance to use it as a tool with which we may help others--perhaps others who have no voice, or perhaps others whose voices are not like ours.  Our voice, after all, is part of who we are.  It has been given to us by the energetic life force that some  call God.

Our voice is our gift.

As we fine tune our voice, the fact of this gift may become clear. We may use our voice in song; or in poetry.  We may use our voice in defense of the voiceless. We may use our voice in praise or adulation.

Then our voice is not merely a means by which we communicate: it is an instrument through which the breath of the world might flow.

Our voice is not merely ours. It is the voice of many.

It is the voice of the life spirit.

And, as such, it must be allowed to find its way from the depths of our physical bodies, so that we may be heard.

So that we may join in the glorious cacophony, and madness, and joy created by the voices of our fellow man.

So that our words may be welcomed back into the world.

 

beach rocks

2011

 

 

Singing Mary

I am a singer.  I sing while walking, while folding laundry, while skiing.  I sing under my breath when I feel awkward in new social situations, and somewhat more loudly--though still under my breath--when I am scared.

I sing because I am a singer, and this is what we do.

For many years I was a church singer and frequent soloist. In the fall of 2009, I was asked to take the part of Mary (i.e. the Mother of God) in the church musical "Celebrate Life" put on by Sacred Heart in Yarmouth. This performance was being offered in honor of our late choir director, Pat Siviski. Pat had died of a rare form of liver cancer several years before. 

The role of Mary felt markedly uncomfortable, as did the fact that this was a church musical. I had grown increasingly conflicted about the social/political positions being taken by the Catholic church.  I wasn't sure I truly belonged in the Sacred Heart Parish any more.

As far as Mary was concerned, I wasn't convinced that I was the best choice to be playing the MoG. Pure? Holy? Chaste?

Me?

Hmmm...

I was so conflicted about the church musical/Mary role that I literally lost my voice several times.  I would arrive at practice with my neck swathed in scarves, clutching hot tea.  I would tease the songs from the depths of my being past reluctant vocal cords.

The irony of the lost voice did not escape me.

Yet I soldiered on, mostly as a favor to Pat’s husband, Ron Siviski.  Pat and Ron were/are two of the most giving members of our parish that I had/have ever known. They were an integral part of my formative years.  So I sang Mary in honor of Pat and Ron.

And as I sang the role of Mary, I listened to the lyrics.  I listened to the words describing a mother’s joy at being called to give life.  I listened to her sorrow over watching her child be taken away. 

I may not have been able to connect with certain aspects of the Catholic church.  I may not have felt particularly holy or pure (as might have been expected from the MoG). But I could relate to being a mother who loves a child.

Because I am--and I do.

So I sang Mary.

I found my voice, and sang in honor of motherhood; in honor of Pat Siviski. I sang at Sacred Heart, and I sang at St. Jude. I sang with joy, and love, and sorrow.

I sang because I am a singer.

And this is what we do.

Seawall Sun, January 2011

 

 

 

Kick Up Your Healin!' Event, the Full Story!

As promised in my last blog post, here is some information on our May 16 "Kick Up Your Healin!'" event, held in honor of Kent Pierce and his family, to raise money for his designated charity, the National Foundation for Cancer Research. 

Let me begin with some background information on the Pierce family.  If you just want event details, please feel free to read ahead!

I first met Kent Pierce & Kristen Funkhouser Pierce when our sons, Campbell and Luke, shared a teacher in second grade. Over the years, my husband (Kevin Haley) and I shared many 'proud parent' moments with Kent & Kristen, as we watched Campbell and Luke from the sidelines.  From rainy soccer games to middle school music performances--you name it, we were there. Our little boys are now high school juniors, and getting ready to play another year of varsity baseball together for Yarmouth .

I grew to know the Pierce family better when Kristen and I worked with Jane Gallagher and many others on Our Daily Tread, a book to benefit Safe Passage, an organization founded by my late Bowdoin College classmate, Hanley Denning.  Creating ODT was a collaborative process in which people around the world shared their special gifts to support a special program.  Kristen spent countless hours gathering the artwork of Guatemalan children for use in ODT. 

  Our Daily Tread has raised almost $18,000 since its publication in November 2007--and we have many copies still to sell!

Here is where the story changes from happy to not-so-much: last summer Kent was diagnosed with a fairly rare and serious cancer.  He spent much of this past spring (2010) in Boston undergoing treatment.

As you can tell, my family has been greatly impacted by Kent, Kristen and their children.  We know that many others feel the same way.  Our community is a more vibrant place due to the time and talents shared by the Pierce family.  Because of this, Kevin, Jane and I are in the process of organizing a little event to bring together the many people in the community who love Kent Pierce and his family, and have been wanting to do something to show their support during their time of healing. 

It has become clear that MANY, MANY others in our community have been impacted by cancer and serious illnesses--and that people have similarly wanted to share their love and support for those families. We know that the incredible outpouring of support for the Pierce family is not, in Yarmouth , rare or unique; rather, it is an example of community at its best and it is this spirit of sharing that we hope to celebrate!

Our Pierce-family inspired community gathering and fundraising event, features donations of art, photography, music, and food from those who want to "share the love" with the Pierce family. Details are noted below.  We hope you will join us!

The following picture is one of 13 that I have donated to be sold at the event.

Kick Up Your Healin' 

Fun & Fundraising Event

Look, Listen & Share the Love!

Music, Art & Photography Extravaganza

Celebrating Community & Lives Lovingly Entwined

In Honor of the Pierce Family 
 and others 
who Have Experienced Cancer and Serious Illness

What:  

Coffee House Art & Photography Show and Sale

Artwork will be on display at the Royal Bean from May 2-16, 2010.  All pieces will be available for sale on May 16th from 3-5. Cash & checks accepted.

Artists include Leslie Hamren, Julie Freund, Sue Hammerland, Alexis McCallister, Beth Newman, Margaret Lawrence, Catherine Breer, Lars Lindgren, M.R. Hedstrom, Alice Kirkpatrick, Carol Bass, Richard Sandifer, Beth Westra, Rhonda Kennedy, Charlotte Agell, Sheri Oliva, Maureen McCue, Sissy Buck, Abby Belisle Haley, Lisa Belisle, Allison Cooke Brown, Dennis Welsh, Grace DeGennaro, Laurie Hadlock and Martha Baum.

Neighborhood Block Party 

with Musical Performances by

• Merciful Mondays, (featuring Gil Donatelli & Lisa Belisle--yep, that's me!!)
  
• Gary Richardson
  
• Local Circus 
  
• Pan-Fried Steel Drum Band
  
• Hot-Buttered Schwerve
• Fight at the Family Picnic

Where: 

Royal Bean 18 Yarmouth Crossing Drive, Yarmouth, Maine 

When: 

Sunday, May 16, 2010
2-6 pm

Suggested Donation: $8.  Refreshments available. 

Proceeds will Benefit the National Foundation for Cancer Research, as requested by Kent Pierce.  Representatives from Sally's Blooming Hope & the Maine Cancer Foundation's Pink Tulip Project  will also be present at the event.

~~~

Kent Pierce has provided a message about the NFCR and his experience with mantle cell lymphoma below.  

Note that the following image is one provided by Kent's wife Kristen, of a project entitled "Entwined," in which she gathered "found objects" from her friends and family and wove them together to represent a sense of community.  We've chosen the "Entwined" image to represent one of the central themes of our event. 

A message from Kent Pierce, event honoree:

Hey All, 

First, a capsule summary:  I was diagnosed with mantle cell lymphoma in August, 2009, went through seven months of chemotherapy in preparation for an autologous stem cell transplant (meaning stem cells were harvested from my body, then re-infused into me after more, intensive chemo) this past March.  I’m currently in remission.  The drag about this particular brand of lymphoma is that it comes back, making it a condition as well as a disease.  There’s no timetable for its reappearance, which appeals to my competitive nature -- it turns remission into a game to see how long I can keep this sucker from returning to my crib.  In the meantime, I stand on the sidelines of the oncological research community and root like crazy for more breakthroughs.   
I’m still relatively new to cancer, but it’s been an intense rookie year.  It’s complicated and consuming.  It’s almost impossible not to view your life through the prism of cancer.  That’s not always a bad thing by any stretch, but it is necessary.  Of course, it deeply affects those near and dear.  It’s a game changer.  Fortunately, to deal with these changes, I’ve been blessed with the deluxe anti-cancer package:

* I’ve got a loving family who help keep me properly fed, fit, balanced and in good humor;
* I’ve got access to an extremely competent and caring medical team in Portland and Boston;
* I’m surrounded by a community of friends and acquaintances whose unstinting and active support of our family over the last nine months has been profoundly affecting.  There’s no question that emotional support impacts a person’s physical well-being.  Compassion is as good, if not better, than any pill or elixir on the market. 

The Kick Up Your Healin’ event is the deluxe anti-cancer package on full display: friends and families coming together to share some fun and raise money for organizations on the forefront of cancer research.  Our family is humbled and honored to be among the families in whose spirit this event has been organized.  

Love to all, 

Kent Pierce

P.S. There are so many worthy organizations in constant need of funding.  The Pierce family has chosen the National Foundation for Cancer Research as one of the beneficiaries of this event primarily because it was an NFCR project director who was credited with having developed the transplant procedure I underwent in Boston.  
It’s the research work of organizations like the NFCR that give thousands of us hope for better medical options in the future.

For More Information/To Volunteer: 

Email: info@drlisabelisle.com
Phone: 207 847 9393

www.KickUpYourHealin.com

Click here to Download a "Kick Up Your Healin'" poster.

Singing For Their Supper

As faithful blog-readers know, I've been writing a lot about the issue of hunger lately, so it was funny/ironic that we inadvertently found ourselves at an "Empty Bowl"  fundraiser for Maine's Good Shepherd Food Bank recently.  This unique event was sponsored by the Yarmouth High School Interact Club.  The students involved created beautiful pottery bowls which they filled with ice cream--and sold to interested parties for the rock bottom price of $8.  This took place before the high school's spring concert.  Our family ended up getting three bowls (one each for Abby & Sophie, and one for our friend Kathy, in honor of Mothers Day).  Then my parents bought one, and let Campbell eat their ice cream after his concert.  The Interact Club raised $550 for this worthy charity. Kudos to them! We also had the opportunity to purchase a packet of lovely notecards from the Yarmouth music boosters, created from artwork also done by high school students. What a talented bunch of kids we have living in our town.

Cambell's concert was one of three that we attended over the course of two weeks.  For most parents of school-age children, this is a busy time of year.  End of school picnics, spring sports, conferences...the list goes on.  With three children in this age range (2nd, 6th and 9th grade), we are eligible to attend events taking place at three different schools.

Campbell and Abby had back-to-back concerts: one on Monday and one on Tuesday.  Sophie's was the following week.  My mother and I attended each one, while Dad went to two and Kevin went to one (he was out of town for a week).  All of our children participate in chorus, and Abby plays trumpet in the middle school band (Campbell retired from playing this instrument at the end of middle school). I'm so glad that the kids like music.  I can't imagine life without it.  I personally like to sing as much as I like to run--maybe even more--which is saying a lot.

All of the kids are very animated when singing. The only one I was able to capture on 'film' was Sophie, but she is definitely worth watching.  I put her Children's Choir version of I Like to Sing and Thank You on YouTube.  These are very rough recordings (done with a digital still camera, not a digital video camera), but if you look carefully, you can see her in the upper right hand corner.  She sings, she dances (not always at the same time or in the same way anyone else is dancing), she fidgets, she bothers her neighbor, she even takes off her shoes, headband and sweater at various points (though I didn't capture these, unfortunately).  Ahhh...the joy of being seven. 

Another joy of being seven is looking forward to our town's upcoming "Ice Cream Social." Actually all of us look forward to it, though it is held at Sophie's school. 

We're lucky that our family's bowls are rarely empty, whether or not they are filled with ice cream.

Let's all keep looking for ways to fill other people's empty bowls.