Category: Uncategorized

The Hospice of Grand St. Bernard

Posted on by lauraanneayres

Written at 2AM on June 29th at The Hospice of Grand St. Bernard

High on the mountain, just next to the official border between Switzerland and Italy, which is in a lake, sits the Hospice of Grand St. Bernard.

This weekend celebrated a great many things: the Treasury, the Collège Chapittet, the renovations underway to save the Hospice from dilapidation and decay. Read it clearly: complete closure. After 1000 years of service. Because that will happen someday soon if the Hospice is not saved. (PLEASE donate: Hospice du GSB- Union de Banque Suisse-1920 Martigy- IBAN CH50 0026 4264 6946 8001 X – BIC UBSWCHZH80A)

Moving on, I think it is safe to say, many of those who gathered this weekend did not know each other. Many people who crossed the threshold of the Hospice of Grand St. Bernard this weekend were strangers to each other. It’s just normal. What is not normal is the outcome.

They left as part of a family: the ever-growing, all-loving Hospice family.

Even for those of us, like me, who are veterans – it’s always a new family, you see? New faces, new stories, new names. Every day, the Hospice family is re-energized by “newness” and it is through this heart that the Hospice will always give warmth and light, even when it is a time of darkness or cold.

Pilgrims (like Brian) embrace physical endurance testers (like Mr. X from Vaud). Canons, deacons, and oblates break bread (or cheese) with Switzerland’s in-the- valley-working folks. Others are seeking peace and encounter someone in direct service (like Jackson). At the Hospice, we all fight for the same thing: peace. Peace not only for ourselves in this moment. Peace for all who are in need.

Because we are family. We are all the Hospice of Grand St. Bernard family and now we have new additions in Jackson and Alex, who contributed so much to make this weekend’s concerts happen. Hospice angels.

God bless José, Frédéric, Anne-Marie, Raphaël, Pascal, Jean-Michel, L, Anne-Laure, Christophe and the Campaign committee, Raphaëlle, Annick and Stefan, and many others. We all use our gifts to support the Hospice. That’s what we do.

I wish everyone could be lucky enough to join this family. It is a family that will never let you fall.

http://www.gsbernard.net

Opening notes of "Snow"

On a personal note:

It’s hard to point to a favorite moment, but I think the moment José laid eyes on me when I arrived was one of the best moments in my life. No one has ever been so happy to see me and let me know it. HUGE smile, eyes dancing, big bear hug. José – ich bin deine Schutzengeli und immer so.

Jackson Henry at the Hospice is too much goodness to handle. Seeing his feet walk out of the Customs door after over a decade of geographical distance is something I cannot explain. Jackson is one of my top five favorite people on the planet – he is my soul’s twin brother.

 

Searching for Peace? It’s on sale here – free of charge.

Posted on by lauraanneayres

“I just want peace. I will cut anyone out of my life, read any book suggested, go to any altitude. I need it,” I realized how semi-pathetic and semi-psychotic I sounded as soon as I said it. I also realized I was farther away from peace than I’d ever been. How did I get here? 

This is part of a pretty great scene in the second book about finding peace.

Daniel is one of those perpetual peace seekers. It’s ironic because, as Pos says about Daniel in the book,  “Idiot will break both his bloody legs to locate what he believes is the nearest well of free-flowing nirvana.”

Peace. We all want it. How do we get it?

I think peace is about living in the chaos. Look at the verb! It’s not “surviving” or “ignoring” or “getting through.” No! Not good enough.

Peace is about living in the chaos. Being present, being humble, being aware, being authentic. In the chaos.

If you are a person living life fully, you will be in the middle of chaos at least once a day – a busy train, a meeting with 20 people talking over each other, a girlfriend screaming at you because you didn’t put the seat down. As if a daily round of chaos wasn’t bad enough, it could be worse than that. You could be in constant chaos because your company is failing, a loved one is gravely ill, a relationship is teetering on the brink of collapse, you are being kicked out of your home, etc.

So, you stand in the middle of this chaos and it’s usually when we hear you scream, “I just want peace!”

“You find your peace in the chaos,” Pos said. “You stand inside it and you make the choice to be who you are, express who you are, and live in that chaos. That’s peace.”

Is it possible that it’s simpler than we make it? Everyone I know tells me, “LA, I just want peace in my life.” Asking me how to find peace is a bit like asking Paris Hilton to explain the Theory of Relativity; but, I’d like to give it a whirl (pun intended).

I really don’t think you need to do ancient Chinese deep breathing, hire a life coach, hike to a remote village void of humans, or take a pill the size of Texas.

Try this instead – be yourself. If everything around you is collapsing, remember who you are. Express yourself however you need to do that – speak up, don’t speak, breathe, sing, dance, laugh, cry. Don’t just survive the chaos, stand inside it, knowing and showing who you are. Could it be that embracing the chaos and living in it will bring you more peace than constantly fighting against chaos in search of peace? Chaos is inevitable. Could we make peace the same?

Here’s the most important thing. Did you make a mistake that contributed to the chaos? Easy fix. Say it clearly, quickly, humbly, and non-emotionally, “I am sorry” and you just might find yourself…at peace.

Like father, like daughter

Posted on by lauraanneayres

jack_attorneyheader2

Horrible allergies. Broad shoulders. Eyes that are a sort of light green/khaki color. Love and devotion to Mildred and Rowe Jackson, Ayres, Sr. Enjoyment of playing ball rather than watching. Tuna fish with vinegar, not relish (gross). Grapenuts and cold milk. Deep appreciation of emergency rescue men and women. Obedience to my church. Life of service to others (got a double parental dose of that one).

These are things I inherited from my dad. Sure, there are more. These are a few things. It’s the broad shoulders I’d like to comment on.

Dear Rowe Jackson Ayres, Junior,

You gave me broad shoulders, swimmer’s shoulders. They are not delicate and feminine; however, they are good, strong shoulders.

They hold a lot of people up and provide a place for many people to lean, to cry, and to hide.

Even as a small child, I “got” it. You were my first hero because you helped everyone in need. I would sit in my bed waiting for you to get in after your nights serving as a Paramedic. I was both scared and proud of you when you would stop to take a call on the police radio. I will never forget meeting Officer Cox and then hearing he’d been shot in the line of duty. I also remember you told me you were going to “take care of his family.” I think I was 11? Around that same time, I remember you spoke out in favor of women’s rights and gay rights in our church and encouraged people who didn’t believe in equal rights for all God’s children to go find a “church” (my quotes) that believed similarly. I also remember those shoulders picking me up when I was I had appendicitis and rushing me from camp to the hospital. I remember a lot of stories about your broad shoulders.

Those broad shoulders get tired, don’t they? I learned it the hard way because I got them from you.

A few years ago, you told me, “Most of my clients never called me again after I won their cases, set up their trust funds/financial plans, etc. I don’t know what happened to the children or to them. Not even a Christmas letter or something because no one thinks about that.” Of course “that” is your heart being invested in your clients and even the people you help on the street. I felt very deep sympathy at the time, but I now feel empathy. I have spent years in service, just like you (and Momma), only to find myself wondering, “What happened to her? What ever happened to those kids? What about him, did he make it through?”…I wonder, without answers.

So, tonight I’ll give a special pre-Father’s day “thanks” for the broad shoulders inheritance. Like yours, they are tired and perhaps overused. But they are the greatest part of what I inherited from you, Dad.

Well, that and the eyes. I’m the only person in this world that has your eyes…and your love of tuna fish.

Bug of Yours

For Father’s day, June 14, 2014, Uitikon Waldegg, Switzerland

“I Don’t Want To”

Posted on by lauraanneayres

At least 20 times a day, I am faced with the internal answer, “I don’t want to.” I usually ignore it. Why?

I’m an adult.

“I don’t want to” is a selfish answer. It is rarely, I’ve found, the right answer. Here’s my example.

Yesterday, I had the entire day planned from sun up to sun down. The crucial hour was the one between physical therapy and home. I needed to catch my train to get home to bake the birthday cake. I am in Switzerland. My train comes on time, two times an hour. Punkt.

After PT, I got on the tram. I put on my headphones and started my NYC streets focus. I would have 7 minutes to get my little orange train. This young guy kept making eye contact with me and it looked like he was trying to talk. “I don’t want to” was in my head and I kept listening to Van Morrison’s Plan B album.

But, the guy came over to me. I removed the earbud and trying to find out what he was saying even though I didn’t want to.

He was sick. Really sick. In fact, he almost passed out on me.

He was only trying to tell me that he needed some water.

I helped him off the tram and into a seat, fetched some water and crackers, and sat with him. He’d just had a long day, not enough water, and got dehydrated. It was simple.

I thought about it a lot this morning. My initial “I don’t want to” almost hindered me from doing exactly what I want to do with my life…help people in need of help. This is the rather quiet way I “Catholic Buddhist” in the world. I save the bible beating and “mean Messiah”-ing to others. I sort of do my own thing.

This morning, I also remembered Moni. She was just about to finish a triathlon last year when a man fell in front of her. Instead of listening to an “I don’t want to” because of exhaustion, self-determination, desire for a good time, etc., she stopped. When she realized he was very ill, she stayed with him. He died. Imagine if she had listened to all the reasons she “didn’t want to?” God bless my Moni. She’s one of my heroes.

I didn’t get the cake done because I didn’t make my train.

I made brownies instead. Is Martha Stewart going to give them a prize?…uh, no. But, we all ate them (not me, don’t like sweets) and had a great laugh. At a table full of good friends, everyone ate one of these “charming” brownies…even the people that probably “didn’t want to.” 😉

The "I Didn't Want To" brownies

 

 

 

Mahler’s 8th, Brahms’ Requiem, Franz Biebl’s Ave Maria, and my heart’s song—O Magnum Mysterium

Posted on by lauraanneayres

Taking a break from the world for a moment and remembering easier days.

The Mahler 8 performance on my 21st birthday. The Brahms Requiem when Charlie was born. The first time I fell in love with MOH’s voice and the Biebl “Ave Maria.”

The HPPC tour (with Tracy’s folks) when we sang “O Magnum” at Canterbury Cathedral and my heart was too full to feel anything other than pure joy.

Listen. Be transformed.

Mahler 8 love

Alles Vergängliche

Ist nur ein Gleichnis;

Das Unzulängliche,

Hier wird’s Ereignis;

Das Unbeschreibliche.

Hier ist’s getan;

Das Ewig Weibliche

Zieht uns hinan

All that is transitory

Is but an image;

The inadequacy of earth

Finds here its fulfillment;

The inexpressible

Is given words here;

The eternal feminine

leads us upwards.

Brahms Requiem love

Wie lieblich sind deine Wohnungen, Herr Zebaoth!

Meine Seele verlanget und sehnet sich nach den Vorhöfen des Herrn;

mein Leib und Seele freuen sich in dem lebendigen Gott.

Wohl denen, die in deinem Hause wohnen, die loben dich immerdar.

How lovely are Thy dwelling places, O Lord of Hosts!

My soul longs and years for Your inner courts,

my body and soul rejoice in the living God.

Blessed are they that dwell in Thy house, may they praise You forever.

My music family’s songs

Franz Biebl’s Ave Maria

Morten Lauridsen’s O Magnum Mysterium

 

Freddie Mercury, Switzerland is wicked expensive, and losing Pop

Posted on by lauraanneayres

Everything crashed on my head last week. May 16th – big IN party that night, didn’t feel well, Lion was here (which was the only good part)…but it was the first day of hell week, which begins on May 16th and lasts until my birthday on May 21st.

In 2004, I threw a surprise party for my mom on May 15th. The most nervous guest was Pop because he had a special note for Mom, he didn’t really like big parties, etc. The more nervous he became, the more nervous I became. I didn’t want a repeat of Pop’s collapse. I told him it would be okay. I put Pop right across from me this time and watched him like a hawk. We made toasts to Mom, food came. Everything was going smoothly.

Until it didn’t. Looked at Pop. Face was grey, mouth hanging open. Ambulance called. Dad is performing CPR on his father. Chaos. Pop made it through the night. The next week was looking okay. Pop was in the hospital and I rarely left his side.

Then came May 20th and a “routine” procedure. One tiny slip, one tiny mistake. His heart wall was punctured. Surgery didn’t work. He was dead before we got back to the hospital at 12:30AM on May 21st – my birthday.

I will never wake up on May 21st and want to celebrate. Instead, I go and do something, on that day, that I know would make Pop proud.

Pop and I both loved music. We actually had “music appreciation” together. We would sit together for hours, living in music. One of my favorite bands is Queen. I love everything about it, especially THAT voice. Queen’s last recording studio was in Montreux and there’s an exhibit there. So, for my birthday this year, I went to find it. It was something I did, in part, because I miss my brother. I liked it when he sang “Pressure” driving down the Tollway one day. He sounded just like Freddie.  “Pressure,” by the way…came to life on May 21, 1982. I had a cast on my arm and ate a cake with Strawberry Shortcake on it while David Bowie and Freddy Mercury were snapping and clapping?! So cool! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q-vJGUYHesU

Next, I went to Chillon Castle. I thought of Pop (who loved poetry) and the poem by Lord Byron. I started crying a bit as I looked at the lake and then I heard this guy say to his buddy, “Switzerland is wicked expensive.” I laughed. He took a great picture of me and we had a nice talk about poetry. Pop would have been proud I talked about Switzerland, poetry, and made a nice moment come from a sad one.

Losing Pop because of a party I planned? Worst feeling. I will never be the same. But I had a choice on May 21, 2005. How am I going to handle it? I’m going to honor him on that day. I’m going to choose to laugh, to smile, to cry. To feel all that I need to feel and be, well, Pop’s Princess Wawwy.

ImageImageImageImage

Rowe Jackson Ayres, Sr.

 

 

Switzerland doesn’t want your Grand Big Mac, Ronald.

Posted on by lauraanneayres

Color me red and white in prideful appreciation for the current Swiss backlash against the Grand Big Mac.

God bless your cholesterol-heavy heart Ronald, you knew that wouldn’t be popular here, didn’t you? You’re little tag line on the advert “only for a limited time” almost seems like “I am really sorry to have to advertise this in your exercise/recycling/good health-focused country. They are making me.”

Page two of the daily paper yesterday (this is the paper everyone reads, for free, while utilizing public transport, which the vast majority of us do) had this to say, “Criticism about the new jumbo burger.” The article then went on to tear the not-so-Grand Big Mac to shred(ded lettuce…ha ha, I couldn’t help myself). First attack was not on the ingredients or daily fat intake or anything a bit intangible.

They attacked the size. Simple, concise, efficient attack. The Grand Big Mac is 45% bigger than the regular one.

It was so Swiss and so brilliant. They go on to attack different aspects, but the crux of the argument is simple: this company is trying to make us 45% bigger like this burger. Eww. Gross.

Someone refers to the burger as “scandalous.” Someone else refers to the McDonald’s spokeswoman as representing “the calorie bomb.” Damn! The only redeeming component appears to be the half a head of lettuce we see in the Grand Big Mac’s debutant photo, but that is left out. No, every sentence is loaded with burger-busting explosives. Bravo.

This is why Switzerland has 90-year olds who hike in the mountains. This is why it’s fairly normal to see people on crutches throughout the year. These people are active and they are moving. They don’t want to add 45% to their meals. They want to be moving in a year, five years, fifty years. Also, they also like their meals; so they wouldn’t want to waste 3/4 of their daily food requirements in one go.

Go back and look at this blog post. Read all the things that contribute, daily, to the good health of the inhabitants in this country.

1) Utilizing public transportation – moving ourselves around keeps muscles functioning, oxygen flowing, and encourages social awareness (though some people fail miserably in this last area)

2) Recycling – keeps us from being a wasteful nation, focused on consumption without consequence. They don’t give us a choice here. You’ll recycle or you pay more because trash bags are expensive here…on purpose. Recycling is made easy and it’s just part of our daily lives.

3) Size control – ha ha. This is a bit of a sensitive subject. But, yes. Switzerland is hyper-conscious about keeping the, ahem, portions small. (Even of the portions of foreigners.)

4) Daily news – twice a day, we read the daily news. Why? It’s free. It’s presented to us not only via the web, but also in our hands. I cannot imagine Swiss transport without newspapers scattered here and there. This contributes to global, regional, and local awareness. It also makes for a well-informed society that is READING. Not bad.

5) Fresh vegetables and fruits – I have never seen people eating vegetables and fruits more in my life. Granted, we are spoiled. We have fresh veggies and fruits at our disposal all the time. You buy them on the run and you don’t even think twice. For example, I would never walk into a fast food place and grab fries for a train ride. I do, often, grab an apple and/or some carrots.

I’m not anti-McDonald’s. I am a huge supporter of the work done at the Ronald McDonald houses, by the way. But, what is the overall cost? For every Ronald McDonald house, doing amazing work, there are probably thousands of cases of coronary disease attributable to bad health habits encouraged by the first “McDonald’s Happy Meal.” Taking care of sick kids is really important. Keeping kids from getting sick…can I be so bold as to say it’s MORE important?

Nevertheless, I don’t think Switzerland was a great launch site for the Grand Big Mac, Calorie Bomb. Our golden bodies are a bit more important to us than your golden arches, in this case.

 

Writers, Fakers, Authors, Ghostwriters…cue Mark Twain rolling over in his grave

Posted on by lauraanneayres

I had a chat with an author this week – Diccon Bewes, author of various books (http://www.dicconbewes.com/). As we munched on rather lousy fish and a rather juicy burger, I asked Diccon his opinion about the debate over “writer” vs. “author.” I didn’t need to ask his opinion about “faker” vs. “author” because I’ve read his well-researched, carefully-crafted words.

He’s not judgmental about all the terms (like most are), but one of the questions really stuck with me. Are you a “writer” if you write emails?

I’m a writer. The book I wrote is a great book and I wrote every word, but I’m not an author. Diccon is an author. Diccon’s books are not riddled with blind-eyed grammar mistakes. As I freely admit, I wrote my book in three weeks (and revised many times after). Diccon painstakingly researches, interviews, crafts. I have an album of original songs that accompanies my book, which I co-wrote with my buddy, Jackson. I’m an opera singer. Diccon might have sung “Toreador” in the shower, but I doubt he’d claim he’s an opera singer. I think we’re both okay with being who we are.

Look, there are major differences (an English major, come to think of it) involved in many of these “titles.” There are also, for me, fundamental dangers and failures in using them in a flexible way. You are not an author if someone wrote your words for you. You are not a writer if someone wrote your words for you. You are a storyteller, even if it’s your own story, and that is fantastic. And enough.

I blame ghostwriters for some of this. They are doing wonderful, creative, expressive things…and enabling a falsehood to be promulgated. Ghostwriters have penned truly exceptional works that have been primarily attributed to people with name recognition/money. I do some translation work for a website that features ads asking writers to write entire books for 400USD. They must relinquish all claim and legal right to the work after the obligatory “here’s 2 months of paid electricity bills” given as a fee for surrendering their intellectual property. The “owner” of this slaps his or her fat cat name on the book and no one knows that someone else wrote the book.

Goethe wrote an entire book about a theory of colors. I’m fairly certain if I googled “books written by Honey Poo Poo” something would pop up. Ghostwriter/editor/person that does everything for me, please google Honey’s Christian name. Geez, welcome to 2014.

I know it’s hard to make a decent income from writing. Guess what? It’s really hard to make a decent income after you’ve sold your integrity.

For all of the writers who actually put pen to paper for a full 400+ pages, my hat is off to each of you. I’ve done it twice now and it wasn’t exactly easy.

For all of the ghostwriters who consciously allow people to slap a celebrity name on expressions, turns of phrases, research, beautiful dialogue, etc.? Honor your education, your talent, the gift you have with words…and be brave.

For those of you who think writing an email makes you a writer? Well, okay. I did hear the University of Fantasy Land Bachelor degrees are lovely. Covered in glitter, isn’t that write?

For the authors who challenge my brain to see, hear, smell, think, explore, examine…I have only gratitude.

BRAVERY PROJECT: Guest Blogger: Mary K. Stone – “I wasn’t sure I was ready”

Posted on by lauraanneayres

This is what I am saying, people. God willing, we do not fight World Wars anymore. We fight “little” battles everyday and Mary fought one. She was afraid to “put herself out there.” Haven’t we all been? Look what she did this time! (I say “this time” because the woman is a nurse. She has more bravery in her pinky fingerNAIL than most of us have in our entire bodies.)

Mary is a talented writer I met via Twitter. Here is her most recent act of bravery. Follow her, please, @WriterMKStone and her blog: . She’s a nurse. A wife. A mom. Trying to really make a difference. Bravo, Mary!

**

My brave act this past week was putting myself out there and joining the social media world. I launched my website, blog and Twitter account. Just a few months ago–as an unpublished author–I wasn’t sure I was ready to take those steps. I’m fortunate that my friends, family, and writing community have been supportive. But announcing something I’m still aspiring to be to everyone in cyberspace? Yes, definitely scary! In such a short time it has been incredibly rewarding and I feel like I am now part of a global writing community. In fact, putting myself out there is how I connected with you and made it to your wonderful blog!

Climb every mountain…or not – One year ago, I went to Grand St. Bernard

Posted on by lauraanneayres

Today will be a “good luck getting off the couch day.” Last night, InterNations successfully hosted hundreds of people at a gorgeous venue in the middle of Zürich. As usual, I was smiling and semi-suffering at the door. In spite of the chronic back pain, it’s hard to help myself. See, it’s the people that have sucked me in. I really care about a lot of them. When I ask “How was your week?” I’m listening to that answer.

But, this morning, I woke up and felt the effects of my “care and concern.”  Major back pain lighting my back and neck up like a Christmas tree. Whatever. No biggie.

Then iCalendar and Timehop popped onto my computer screen and reminded me what I was doing 12 months ago: “St. Bernard w-” (I took away his initial).

it was one year ago that I went to the Hospice of Grand St. Bernard for the first time.

That kills me more than the back pain. I was climbing a mountain a year ago and today I can barely carry a purse. I won’t be climbing a mountain any time soon, okay. I get that. So, I can cry about it and feel sorry for myself OR I can smile and pay homage to what made the Hospice of Grand St. Bernard weekend truly exceptional.

Duh. I always do the smiling thing. Here goes.

1) I snowshoe’d for the first time and 2) I climbed a mountain over 2400m for the first time.
(BTW– those things happened simultaneously, which was not easy, AND I did it in 2 1/2 hours.)

3) I visited the Valais for the first time.

4) I drank the addictive Hospice GSB tea for the first time.

5) I kept Canonical hours for the first time.

6) I attended Mass IN FRENCH for the first time.

7) I felt truly at peace for the first time in my life (it was an amazing 2 hours).

8) I had a birthday party with plastic utensils on a wooden floor for the first time.

9) I read “Swiss Watching” for the first time.

10) I stopped a man from having a commitment phobic tirade for the first time because…

11) I told him “I love you” for the first time.

12) I literally saw and heard multiple avalanches for the first time.

13) I took a car ride with complete strangers for the first time.

14) I got frostbite for the first time.

There’s something in both of my books. Emily and Daniel are on a mountain climbing when Emily loses her footing and starts to fall. He tells her to stop, plant her feet, stand up, and move forward.

That was real.

15) I learned how to stop myself from being overcome by fear for the first time.

It was an amazing retreat from this life. I’ll happily revisit it a lot today as I am clutching my heating pad and Ibuprofen.

I was winning today, last year. That means there’s hope to win again.

Image