Switching Gears

I started another 21-day meditation challenge with the Chopra Meditation Center. I’ve done a couple of these before and really enjoy making them the start of my day. If you’ve wanted to try meditation, I think this is a good way to start. The format is simple: a centering thought is presented (today’s is “I am love. I am eternal. I am spirit.”), Deepak says a few words, we’re given a mantra to use to keep us focused during meditation and then some music plays while we meditate. Very simple.

As part of this 21-day challenge, I’ve also stopped commenting and posting on Facebook. I still read to keep up with friends, but that’s it. I'd found that too much FB was affecting me. I live alone and used FB to connect and share kind words, interesting articles and such, the kinds of things we’d share with spouses or family, neither of which I have with me on a daily basis. People seem to enjoy what I post and some have told me in person that their day has been lifted or they’ve learned something helpful. But I was finding that what I was reading in some posts and comments was disturbing me more and more, Too much bickering, name-calling, profanity. Too much negative energy and low-vibration comments. Too many people being taken advantage of with “Like bait” (posts with cuddly animals or wounded soldiers or “Like if you hate cancer” – posts that are designed to get well-intentioned people to click Like; scammers make money off these). Too many gullible people reposting hoaxes and generating outrage; too any “shocking video of … !!!”. I’ll admit to even being disappointed at the lack of people’s ability to put together simple sentences, use punctuation and spell. I’ve been more disappointed in people’s lack of critical thinking skills, falling for various scams, or commenting without thinking things through. Just a lot of negative energy that I was just really too tired to consume any longer. (Interesting observation: Those who comment on George Takei’s posts tend to be better thinkers and writers, folks who aren’t prone to writing with multiple exclamation marks like a squealing teenage girl.)

Besides all the negative energy, I was just wasting too much time on FB, time that I’d really rather spend riding my bike in the summer sunshine, playing my piano, taking walks, decorating my home. (I have a list of projects, Always do.) I found myself online, reading and refreshing the page multiple times to see if anything new had come in during the last few seconds. I wasn’t getting anything done and I knew I had to stop. 

In this article, UCLA’s Dr, Peter Whybrow says that “The computer is electronic cocaine for many people. Our brains are wired for finding immediate reward.” Novelty is the immediate reward, which is why we have trouble stopping.

The first few days of my FB hiatus, I found myself reflexively moving to comment. Throughout my day, when I’d find something interesting to share, I’d want to go to FB to post, but stopped myself. The world kept revolving without my pithy remarks on FB. I’ve found myself spending a lot more time doing more high-value activities (like finally posting on my blog and working more on a book that I’m editing for a client) and being less consumed with others’ negativity and low-vibration energy. I’ve been reading interesting articles on LinkedIn, reading more books. (I’m consumed with The Storyteller currently.) I actually started my hiatus a few days before the meditation challenge, but I plan to continue until the end of the 21-day challenge. It’s been pretty easy and I’m finding a lot of satisfaction in switching gears. I’m enjoying my summer more. I hope you’re enjoying yours, too.

Rose

PS. I saw Trevor’s mom on the 4th of July. She takes things day by day; some days better, some days worse. She gave her son the great gift of knowledge and courage during his fight.

Kindness and acceptance–without labels

When Sally Ride passed away last year, I remember reading a headline announcing that she had confirmed that she was gay shortly before her passing. Recently, there was a big to-do about Jody Foster at some awards show. (Sorry, I don’t watch them so I’m not sure which it was.)

I wish we were evolved enough as a civilization that we didn’t keep labeling people unnecessarily, whether by color, gender, race, sexual identity, handicap … whatever. Sure, there are times when a description is helpful, such as describing a bad guy: “He was about 6’, with jeans, gray shirt, ruddy skin tone and shaggy hair.” But we use labels when they aren’t necessary, such as the Sally Ride announcement. It seems that if she announced her preference, then, for equality’s sake, every other astronaut should announce theirs, too. Or imagine every entertainer, director, writer, etc., at awards shows going on stage and announcing their religion, race, preference, etc. Every time I hear the term “black president,” I cringe. He’s the American president of the American people, period. Let’s not separate him with a label. (Besides, he’s actually half-white and half-black, as if that makes any difference, either. He could just as easily be labeled a white president or bi-racial president; I don’t know why people label him as a black president … or use any label at all.)

All those labels don’t really matter. Does the person do a good job at what they do? Do they treat others well? Are they kind and thoughtful? These things matter, not the amount of pigment in their skin or who they love. (Love is a beautiful thing and should be celebrated.) I cringe when I read a news report where skin color is mentioned when it’s not relevant to the story. I cringed when an acquaintance wrote about her granddaughter being hassled by a schoolmate … and she felt compelled to mention his skin color.

If society pressures anyone to announce anything that labels and separates them, then they should require it of all. Can you imagine me introducing myself to you as a Spanish/French/German/Apache Catholic with Zen Buddhist leanings, some spinal issues that make movement difficult, blah, blah, blah? If you’re telling your story and including background information, that’s one thing, but for society to want people to make announcements … well, I sure do hope we evolve beyond that at some point and understand how irrelevant it really is.

I’ve felt very strongly about this for so many years, that I find that I often don’t notice the things that separate us. I try to look at who the person is—their Divine within—and I sometimes fail to note their physical appearance. Does Marsha have light skin? Are John’s eyes round or slanted? I fail to note these sometimes. Don’t know and don’t care, unless we’re talking about cultural issues that are pertinent to a discussion.

Buddhist teachings encourage us to observe, but not judge. Let us all simply be kind and accepting of one another. Let’s drop the unnecessary labels and just celebrate our shared oneness.

How quickly things change …

A couple of months ago, I was thinking about how nice and quiet my life is, no drama or Big Events, just a contented, happy life. Things can change so quickly, though, and so dramatically. In the last two months:

• I left my job
• My dad’s wife passed away
• My daughter was in the hospital for tests related to her lupus
• Dad’s dog had to be put down
• A good friend/neighbor passed away

Worst of all, my dad is no longer speaking to his family.
When Dad’s late wife was in the hospital, my brother and I spent time with him each day there; my brother usually took him in the morning and then I went in the evening to sit with him and then take him home. In spite of the circumstances, it was wonderful to be with my Dad again and listen to his stories, talk with him, share conversation and jokes.
After my mom passed away in 1990, we spent a lot of time with Dad, but after he remarried 16 years ago, that changed. We’d invite him and his wife to get together and were told they already had plans with her family. We’d invite them to holiday gatherings; at first, they’d come for an hour or so, then leave to spend the afternoon and evening with her family. One Christmas, we pulled up to my brother and sister-in-law’s home just as Dad and his wife were leaving so we had to give them their Christmas presents through the car window, with the car engine running and his wife telling us to hurry. Eventually, they just stopped coming to our family’s holiday gatherings so they could spend the time with her family instead. It was sad for us and we missed our Dad tremendously, but there wasn’t much we could do.
(Eight years ago, my Dad and his wife became legal guardians of three of her grandchildren, who have been living with them. Two of them, an adult grandson and a minor granddaughter, still live with him. He’s no longer legal guardian of either. I’m very proud of my dad to have stepped up to help raise his wife’s grandchildren, even though he was already in his 70s at the time.)
When Dad’s late wife passed away in May, my brother and I spent each day with Dad, helping him with finding bills and other paperwork, getting things organized so he could handle things more easily. (Dad’s had some strokes and suffers from memory loss at times.) We also wanted to be sure the home was safe and healthy for Dad. It was a mess (a lot of hoarding): paper piles everywhere, medicines and medical equipment in multiples of multiples, multiple kitchen appliances, boxes of food on the floor, a lot of things on the floor, actually, instead of put away.
And the kitchen – when Dad and I checked the produce drawer, there was rotten, blackened, moldy food filling the drawer, with rotten tomatoes that had gone to liquid in the bottom. A container of flan had an inch of mold growing on it. The freezer was completely stuffed with freezer-burned food. You get the picture. Not a safe place for a man with memory loss. He could’ve eaten the rotten food or mistakenly taken the wrong medicine.
My brother and I worked at cleaning up the kitchen and the bills, etc. for over a month. We took him on errands, getting prescriptions, making appointments, having lunch, taking him grocery shopping for foods he wanted. We started looking at services who could come in to cook and clean for him. We had a wonderful time finally being able to be with Dad, gathering his stories as we worked together to have a safe kitchen area for him. Kitchen surfaces were greasy and dusty; we knocked down cobwebs from corners and walls. As we cleaned, I’d ask Dad “Do you want to keep this?” If he did, I’d say “OK, let’s wash it and honor it and display it nicely.”
I took him to my cousin’s retirement/birthday party one Saturday and he had a wonderful time seeing family he hadn’t seen in many years. He accepted our invitation to attend my granddaughter’s/his great-granddaughter’s birthday party on 6/16 and we made plans to go to the pier for breakfast on Father’s Day 6/17. He also accepted my daughter’s/his granddaughter’s invitation to join the family at an Angel game and he was looking forward to all of these.
On Friday, June 15, I brought a family album with me for Dad to enjoy. He asked my brother to please make copies for him because “I don’t have any pictures of my family in the house.”
One of the appointments we took him to a couple of weeks before was to see his trust attorney, who reviewed the trust with him. When Dad reviewed it, he protested and told the attorney that he wanted changes made to it, including giving my brother Power of Attorney and  making sure that his children and granddaughter were included in the trust. (Dad’s original trust was changed in 2009, after he’d had his strokes and memory loss. The previous trusts for each of them provided that his wife’s family received her estate and Dad’s family received his, including the home that he and Mom had bought and paid off. The 2009 trust gave everything to the three grandchildren, which Dad said he wasn’t aware of.) The attorney suggested that Dad think about the changes he wanted made and to come back to make all the changes at once. My brother later prepared a list of Dad’s wishes so Dad could review and make certain of what he wanted changed.
So on Friday, June 15, everything was wonderful with Dad and I again confirmed I’d pick up him at 1 for his great-granddaughter’s birthday party the next day. On Saturday, I went to pick him up; no answer. I called the house; no answer. I called his wife’s family members; no answer. I went to the neighbor’s house and she didn’t know where he was, either, but was finally able to contact another of his wife’s family who said that Dad was safe, but wouldn’t share where he was. The next day was Father’s Day and my brother planned to pick him up; called the house; no answer. On Monday, he came to pick up Dad for his doctor appointment; again, no answer.
I was extremely worried about him by this time. We hadn’t heard from him for three days and didn’t know if he was OK or missing or what. I called the police, who met me there. Dad was OK, but the grandson and granddaughter were yelling at me and saying that they didn’t have to answer our calls about my Dad, that we never visited Dad (they probably didn’t know their grandmother always had other plans so we couldn’t) and that Dad didn’t want to talk to us. I left in tears.
And so it’s been like that ever since. We thought we could finally have Dad back in our lives and after two months of joy with him, we’ve been robbed of that again. My daughter took Father’s Day gifts to him two days later and although he came to the door (his late wife’s family was there), he didn’t let her in or give her a hug or kiss. My daughter and my dad used to be like two peas in a pod, super close and loving; as a kid, she accompanied him everywhere; after Mom passed and we’d visit Dad, she and he would snuggle closely together, her little head tucked under his arms wrapped around her, watching TV.
I don’t know how my Dad is doing. I wake early each morning, praying for his well-being and for a safe home for him to live in, with . I send him loving thoughts through my prayers. I miss him and am broken-hearted that no one has a kind heart to let us know how he is. Our primary concern is for our Dad’s well-being, that the home is clean, that he’s eating good food, with no rotten food or things on the floor he could trip on. I know that deep down, my Dad still loves his family, each and every one of us. I pray that we can gather together again some day and share our family’s love again.

One.

“Imagine all the people living life in peace. You may say I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one. I hope someday you'll join us, and the world will be as one.”-John Lennon

"I look forward confidently to the day when all … will be one with no thought to their separateness as Negroes, Jews, Italians or any other distinctions."- Martin Luther King Jr.

One.

I caught a few minutes of “Driving Miss Daisy” recently; there’s a scene where two Southern cops call Hoke “boy” several times, in that superior, swaggering, dripping-with-honeyed-hatred manner some Southern whites of that time held. That accent toward anyone has always turned my stomach. I also just finished reading “Island Beneath the Sea” (Isabel Allende), a story of slavery in Sainte-Domingue (before it was Haiti) and then later in New Orleans. Brutality toward any other being is so difficult to read about or watch.

One.

When Fear rules and guides a person—instead of Love—anyone who is the “other” (not like “us”) is to be viewed with suspicion, instead of welcomed and embraced with kindness. Witness the separateness and segregation of early immigrants: Jews, Italians, Irish with their foreign languages and customs; the separateness of women, requiring new laws to break that separateness; the separateness of Cuban refugees; the separateness and segregation of blacks, of the hatred and brutality they endured; the separateness of gays; the separateness of Latinos, those with legal status and without.

One.

The elimination of separateness seems to move through four stages:

• Tolerance 
  No one really likes “them” in our schools and society, but the “other” is tolerated, allowed limited contact
• Acceptance 
  At some point, it’s accepted that the “other” is here, like it or not, so just make the best of it.
• Integration
  Beyond acceptance, there comes a measure of equality and the “other” becomes more integrated into society, less noticed as different.
• Ignorance 
  The most complete acceptance is when the “other” is so fully integrated into all facets of life (work, schools, business, politics) that one makes no distinction at all. There is no longer any difference that fosters fear as before.

Ignorance of any difference is the goal, of course, where there is no fear or suspicion, no separateness. It’s the place where we truly become One. We see a person as tall, short, black, white, one-armed, male, female, gay, straight, etc., of course, but we make no judgment or criticism. We make no assumptions based upon the physical make-up of a person.

One.

“… your essential nature is pure consciousness. Beyond the disguises of ego-mind and the physical body, you are pure awareness, pure joy and pure potentiality.” – Deepak Chopra

When we drop away the ego and the physical, we realize that our essence—all of us—is a Divine nature, and the Divine doesn’t have a physical body. We inhabit our physical vessel for such a brief period of time and yet, some people spend far too much time noting the differences between our bodies instead of the sameness of our souls. We are not our bodies. We are not our bodies. We are not our bodies. When our mortal vessels can no longer live and we are released from our body, we will no longer have gender. We will no longer have skin color. We will no longer have sexual differences. We will no longer have handicaps or illnesses.

All these require a physical body and without a body, we then fully and completely realize Truth: we are the same.

One.

.

kindness and compassion

So with a boundless heart
Should one cherish all living beings;
Radiating kindness over the entire world
Spreading upwards to the skies
And downwards to the depths ~ from the Metta Sutta

Kindness and compassion – they add such beauty to our living experiences. My parents always taught us to think of others, to extend ourselves to others, to look to ease others’ discomforts and to assist them in their needs. We always volunteered. It just comes naturally because it’s how I was raised. I don’t even think about it. I’m thankful for their gift and teaching.

My granddaughters laugh because I talk to everyone; I compliment the sales clerk on her earrings … and she shares a story of how they were passed down in her family. I talk to a couple enjoying lunch at Disneyland … and they tell me about their engagement. I talk to strangers every chance I get. People are just so wonderful when we see them through the eyes of kindness.

I smile when I drive: at other drivers, at pedestrians, at cyclists. It’s so beautiful when I get a big smile back!

My parents encouraged us to always think of how our actions affect the next person. When I drive, I try to anticipate if another driver will need to merge into my lane … and I slow down to allow them the room to change safely. In my yoga class, I always take a few minutes at the end of class to sort and arrange the yoga blocks so they’re nicely set up for use by the yogis in the next class.

We are all part of a Divine Consciousness, one Body, one Love Energy permeating through the separateness that we encounter in our physical selves. Goodness toward one is goodness toward all. Let us be good to one another. Let us be good to our selves.

May you give and receive kindness, compassion and goodness. Namaste

small acts of kindness

"Let no one ever come to you without leaving better and happier.
Be the living expression of God's kindness:
kindness in your face, kindness in your eyes, kindness in your smile."
— Mother Teresa

The phone rang the other night:

Caller: “Good evening. This is [name] and I’m calling on behalf of the American Cancer Society. How are you this evening?”
Me: “I’m fine, [name], thank you. But this is the third call I’ve received from the American Cancer Society this week.”
Caller: “Oh …”

And in that “Oh …” I suddenly felt my ego-self drop away and my higher consciousness showed me a woman … a wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend … working a job … putting in an honest day’s work, earning a paycheck to pay the bills. In that “Oh …”, I could feel her tense up, ready to be yelled at, hung up on or berated for bothering a person for the third time in a week.

Me: “It’s OK. I told the previous caller that I would help, so we’re all set. But thanks for calling!”
Caller (with obvious relief in her voice): “Oh, great! Thank you soooooo much. Have a great evening!”

I hung up with a smile on my face. I’d had a choice: I could be annoyed and blustery at being (insignificantly) inconvenienced and make this kind woman cower in her shoes … or I could simply and briefly explain the situation in a way that honored BOTH of us. The entire conversation took less than a minute. I wasn’t inconvenienced; the caller had done nothing wrong. I imagine the call list she was given hadn’t been de-duped and so my name appeared on multiple lists. Not her fault; a simple error. Things happen.

Some people brag about how they handle telemarketers, how they blow a whistle really loudly into the phone or curse at them and hang up, how they really “show them” for daring to call (i.e., do their job) in the first place. Why do that? What higher purpose does that serve? How does that make any of us better? How does that bring about heaven on earth?

It’s actually pretty rare that I get a telemarketer call. I’m on the National Do Not Call Registry (donotcall.gov) so the only calls I get are from organizations that I’ve provided information to, such as charities. But when I do get a call and I’m not interested, all it takes is a gentle “Thank you for calling, but I’m not interested at this time. Have a good evening.” Simple, kind, effective.

Every day, we have a myriad of opportunities to be kind to others, to smile, to wait our turn, to open a door, to give up a seat, to wave at a neighbor. These are opportunities to connect with our higher consciousness, to remember that we are all connected through our Divine nature, that we are One.

May you give and receive kindness. Namaste

The woman in church …

I entered church a few minutes before Mass started, trusting that since I was early, I’d be able to find a seat. Looking around, I didn’t see any readily available so I stood at the back of the church, scanning the pews for a place to sit. I knew my friend, Vic, would be sitting in her usual spot but I couldn’t see her when I looked in that direction.

So, I stood in the back, still scanning. My back had been hurting (I have spondylolisthesis) and sitting would be so much better than standing. I spotted my friend up front but was there room next to her? Not really sure if there was room between her and the man on her right. Mass started and so I stayed put for now, thinking I might move down there in a few minutes.

A young woman sidled in to stand next to me. I was very aware of her presence there, maybe even a tad annoyed that she was standing so closely to me. Then I heard her cry. Softly … a sniffle at first … then barely-heard gulps of air … and then quiet sobs. Her head dropped and I could feel her energy withdraw from the Mass and flow deeply into her sorrow. I could see her quiet tears drop toward the floor.

The annoyance of my human nature swept away, and I felt a deep compassion for her, my divine nature coming forward. I didn’t need to know the cause of her tears; I only knew that she was in deep, soul-engulfing sorrow, something so familiar, I felt I was feeling it with her.

I felt a lightness through my crown chakra, flowing down and opening up my heart. Instinctively, I moved in front of her and wrapped her in my arms as she cried even harder. And we just stood there like that - just being - just being present to one another.

As her tears subsided, she whispered, her head still down on my shoulder, “My mom died this morning.” And then we both cried some more.

She briefly shared her story in whispers there at the back of the church, a story much more important in that moment than the Mass that was being celebrated. Others would hold the Mass energy for us for few moments; I knew that I was to be a good servant, that I was part of a Divine purpose.

Later, after Communion, as we returned back to our spots, a new wave of quiet crying washed over her. She hadn’t slept in two days, staying by her mother’s bedside as her mom moved forward in her own personal journey. I found some tissues for her and she knelt in private prayer.

At the end of Mass, we shared another hug and she thanked me over and over, saying that I had been her angel in her time of need.

As a child, I was sometimes overwhelmed with the depth of God’s unconditional love for us. I found it immensely hard to fathom, like trying to think of the universe, the Big Bang, or trying to think of a time before the earth was created. It could make my head hurt to think of the amazing Love we’re given, freely, no strings attached. I don’t have to do anything to earn that Love. I can’t do anything that will make the Divine not love me any more. I will always and constantly and abundantly be loved. No conditions.

And so, my child-self would pray to God to please give me opportunities in my life to be His servant, place me where He needs me to be to serve others, to let me release my own ego and simply be what He needs me to be for others. (I’d hoped at one point to be a cloistered nun, living in a cloister and spending my days praying for peace and goodness and Love in the world.) And so the Divine has presented opportunities all throughout my life, and each time I recognize it as the answer to my child prayer. Not to earn Love; I already have it. But to share my connection with that Love by being a servant for others, gratefully, lovingly.

I read a story once where a child asked a kind stranger if he was an angel. Nope, he answered. Sometimes God’s angels are so busy, they use humans to help out. And we’re only too happy to serve.

rollercoaster ...

It's been kind of a rollercoaster week.

Tuesday was the anniversary of my mom's passing. Most times when I think of her (nearly every day), I feel love and light; I see her smile, hear her laughter, feel her amazing energy and remember how she drew people to her with her humor, openness and generosity. But on Feb. 24 - even after all these years - I feel a disturbance in my spirit, even before I realize what day it is. When I scan my feelings to see what's causing this, I remember, and the memories of that day come flooding back. The prayers - bargains with God - as I rushed to the hospital, then the completely falling-apart sense of utter and devastating loss as I was told she was gone. Touching her face, sending her love, my entire being flooded with tears.

Tuesday was also the day that my manager told me that I was being rolled off the account that I'd been on since I started there. We've had some layoffs and I knew we still had to cut back more, so it wasn't completely unexpected. I was told to transition my work to another Project Manager and that the company was looking for another account that could use me. In the meantime, I knew I wasn't going to be billable, and in an agency, it's all about being billable. You don't bring in any money sitting on the bench; people need to perform billable work. I was hopeful they'd find an account that could use my skills, hopefully something meaty and engaging that I could really contribute to.

On Thursday, my cousin passed away. May he rest in peace, free from pain and discomfort, once again a light-filled spirit. This made it an even tougher week emotionally. (His services are on Wednesday; if you read this before then, please say a prayer for the family.)

Mom, work, my cousin - by Thursday afternoon, I was turning inward more, like a wounded animal that goes to the cave to heal alone. I consider it a privilege and an honor to have an opportunity to help a friend; as a little girl, I remember praying in church that God would provide me with ways in which I could show my love for Him by sharing His love with others. He has graced my life by answering that little-girl prayer. But I have a really tough time asking for personal support from others. I'm independent; I do for myself. I don't want to burden others with my troubles; everyone has their own to worry about.

On Friday, my last day on the account, we were going out for a girls-only happy hour. I'd been "in my head" most of the week, and I was looking forward to going out with everyone; I could use a little diversion. They are an amazingly wonderful group of women; all very intelligent, very professional, high achievers - just really quality people in every way. And sooooo funny! We have a great big, happy, joy-filled friendship among us, a strong team who share and genuinely care about one another. We support one another whenever someone needs a hand on a project; we lend an ear and a shoulder when someone needs it; we celebrate happy occasions.

As we left the office for happy hour, everyone went over to C's SUV and they told me to come over, too. They were trying to get a beach cruiser bike out of the back of her SUV. It was gorgeous: lime green, white basket, shiny and new. Wow - I've been wanting a cruiser for the last 10 years. I kept oohing and aahing, assuming that C had picked it up for one of the girls and they were going to put it in her car, lucky girl.

They pulled it out, set it on the ground, smiled and told me "Get on it."

What? ...

After a heartbeat's pause, I looked at them, stunned. And then the waterworks started. These beautiful, wonderful friends had pitched in and bought me the most awesome beach cruiser in the world for my last day on the team. (Just got a little teary again ...) My stomach is still doing flip-flops, completely and utterly amazed at the hugeness of their generosity and thoughtfulness.

Words are inadequate to express how I feel about this. I am enormously humbled. I would have been grateful for a goodbye card signed by them all. Oh - they gave me that, too, with the most beautiful personal messages from each of them.

I dreamed about my bike that night. I loved my old beach cruiser. My daughter and I used to ride all the time - down the beach, to her school - the ocean breeze blowing our hair, watching the sun set on the ocean. Riding a bike is such simple, pure fun! And my new bike is absolutely the best cruiser I've ever had. 1000 times better than any I've ever had. There's even a cute white basket. And a silk rose attached to the handlebars. And my wonderful friends gave me a rose-designed bell for the handlebars and rose stickers, too.

It's been a rollercoaster week, starting off on a downhill slide. But beautiful friends did a beautiful thing, sharing their hearts to do something extraordinarily generous and nice. I feel so blessed that we are present in one another's lives right now. We all click. I don't believe I've ever had such a tight bond with friends at work like this. It's kind of magical and amazing. It all feels so right and perfect.

Now to think of a name of my bike.

Namaste.

Cinderfella, plus some garden pics

I read that Jerry Lewis was to receive an award at the Oscars tonight. I loved Jerry Lewis! His characters were goofy, sweet, vulnerable, funny. And in a couple of movies (Cinderfella, The Nutty Professor), we got to see him morph into another version of himself: suave, sexy, appealing on a different level. In the Cinderfella clip, he confidently snaps his foot as he takes the first few steps down the staircase, all eyes on his every move. Such attention to detail. He was also a technological pioneer in the movie-making industry. And of course everyone knows of his tireless telethon work on behalf of "Jerry's Kids."

I love movies of this era, late 50s/early 60s. There's a hopefulness in them, a sense that - despite obstacles - we've just got to keep our chin up and figure out how to make the best of things. The kind of Lil' Rascals "C'mon kids, let's put on a show" cheerful optimism or the Pollyanna "Glad Game" resilience to tragedy that movies had then. I don't watch violent movies, action-packed movies, car chase movies, Ben Stiller/Jim Carrey; they're just not my thing. Give me a movie with a decently entertaining story of goodness and integrity, throw in some laughter, add a dash of a love story (but keep everyone's clothes on), add in a fun twist ... and I'll get the popcorn started, tea brewing and a blanket at the ready.

Jerry Lewis made me smile, he made me laugh, he made the days lighter and brighter. And no, I'm not French. :-)

****************************************

I promised Carol-of-the-frozen-ground some garden pics. These first three, though, are the lilies my friend Ryann gave to me. The scent just filled my home when I came home each day.

Cymbidium orchids in the courtyard:


Lavender:

Freesias:

suspicious minds ...

“As human beings we all want to be happy and free from misery… we have learned that the key to happiness is inner peace. The greatest obstacles to inner peace are disturbing emotions such as anger, attachment, fear and suspicion, while love and compassion and a sense of universal responsibility are the sources of peace and happiness.”
~ Dalai Lama

Lotus Pond - Bruno Baumann


The other night after yoga, I was speaking with another student, discussing his hip problems and the spondylolisthesis of my spine and how yoga is so helpful. He told me of a therapist in LA who'd really helped him and that he'd give me the man's number. I thanked him but told him quite honestly that I probably wouldn't drive all the way up to LA and that a friend had recommended someone who was closer.

The man's response: "Well, you must not be hurting that bad if you're not willing to drive to LA."

I thought it was an odd comment at first, and then I gave it my full consideration, thinking about whether there was any truth for me in his observation.

Some might have thought his comment was insulting. This was the first time we'd spoken and he didn't know me or what I've been through with this condition, as well as other pain issues (from fibromyalgia, sciatica, scoliosis, transitional vertebra). Maybe he was being intentionally rude ... or maybe not. I don't know and really what does it matter if he was? The only one who knows the intention behind that comment is him. Any speculation on my part would be just that: speculation.

I'm not big on speculating about other people's motives for doing or saying what they do. I know of people - co-workers, family, friends - who often second-guess other's intentions: "I know that he did that just to spite me." "I know she did that because she wants his money." Uh, no, you don't know.

One person in particular is prone to spinning her theories and suspicions as if they're the absolute truth. When I gently counter with the fact that she doesn't really know, she insists that "well, it's obvious what she was trying to do. Anyone can see that!"

Hmmm ... I think I may be missing the "righteous indignation" gene ...

Have you ever had anyone misread your intentions? I've had a couple of occasions where I've said or done something with the best of intentions ... and later found that the other person assumed something entirely different than I'd intended. I would apologize for any hurt feelings and discuss the issue with a listening heart to both explain my intentions and also to better understand the other's perception.

Many misunderstandings arise from an incorrect perception. I could have perceived the fellow student's comment as rude and thoughtless, but that would be merely my perception, and not his truth, which only he knows.

These kinds of assumptions can really damage a relationship, so I try to never speculate about the intent behind another person's actions. Well, that's not entirely true. I do make one assumption: I always trust first in others' positive intentions. And I hope that others trust in my positive intentions.

I believe that it's very rare that anyone would be intentially malicious and hurtful to a friend. Am I being naive? Maybe. I've been told that I'm too trusting of others. Do I miss signals when someone is truly intending to be rude or disrespectful? Probably so. But what harm is there in that?

If someone is being rude, that's on them and has nothing to do with me or my happiness. I'd rather be naive and trusting in my happy little bubble of bliss than be suspicious and hurt for no good reason other than my own misguided assumptions. I'm much happier feeling that everyone in my circle is a good, kind, loving person and that we all have one another's best interests at heart. It's a nice way to live.

Namaste

The Code

"Imagine all the people living life in peace." - John Lennon

The son of one of my beloved friends was recently accepted into the Ross Volunteer Company at A&M University. The top 80 juniors must pass a rigorous process to be selected for this prestigious distinction.

Those selected must maintain a strict code of honor, including abiding by "The Code of a Gentleman":
A Gentleman...
Does not discuss his family affairs in public or with acquaintances.
Does not speak more than casually about his girlfriend.
Does not go to a lady's house if he is affected by alcohol. He is temperate in the use of alcohol.
Does not allow his temper; nor exhibit anger, fear, hate, embarrassment, ardor or hilarity in public.
Does not hail a lady from a club (Barracks) window.
Never discusses the merits or demerits of a lady.
Does not mention names exactly as he avoids the mention of what things cost.
Does not borrow money from a friend, except on dire need. Money borrowed is a debt of honor, and must be repaid as promptly as possible. Debts incurred by a deceased parent, brother, sister, or grown child are assumed by honorable men as a debt of honor.
Does not display his wealth, money, or possessions.
Does not put his manner on and off, whether it the club or in the ballroom. He treats people with courtesy, no matter what their social position may be.
Does not slap strangers on the back nor so as much lay a finger on a lady.
Does not "lick the boots of those above" nor "kick the face of those below him on the social ladder."
Does not take advantage of another's helplessness or ignorance and assumes that no gentleman will take advantage of him.
Respects the reserves of others, but demands that others respect those which are his.
Can become what he wills to be.

Old-fashioned? Or simply good manners applied to good values? These are the kinds of behaviors that once were expected of all people: being kind to others, not showing off, treating people with common courtesy. Above all, respecting oneself. These are the values with which I was raised, and with which most of my friends were raised.

Wouldn't it be a very different world if we all adopted/adapted The Code of a Gentleman? I can't be the only person who is dismayed at the public displays of bad behavior on My Space and Facebook, or from spring break revelers. Jerry Springer wouldn't have a show if we all adopted The Code of a Gentleman.

Imagine a society where we all curbed our tempers, were temperate in our use of alcohol, refrained from gossiping about others, or taking advantage of others; imagine a polite, healthy world where we respected others and ourselves. Imagine sharing the road with kind drivers who never lost their tempers to road rage. Imagine people having self-respect and not suffering from altered behavior due to an excess of alcohol. Imagine us all doing what is right for us and for others, treating others with courtesy at all times.

Imagine spreading kindness to each person who shares our life journey today. A kind word, a thoughtful gesture, a hand extended to help another. Simply being good and kind gentlemen and ladies.

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Today's simple pleasure: giving my hard-working, home-owning daughter a back rub

Can you see me now?

Do you ever notice how rare it is for people to acknowledge one another as we go through our days? Yet, we are all members of the human family, co-inhabitors of the planet, neighbors, branches of the same Tree of Life. So why do we not acknowledge our shared humanity?

My daughter and I used to make it a point to smile at other people in their cars as we drove, to really look at people and see their eyes and smile. How fun it was when they'd smile back! It would lift our hearts and we'd see them continue on their way, still smiling. Hopefully, they then shared that smile with the next person ... and so on and so on ... passing the smiles forward ...

When I'm paying a cashier for a purchase or talking with a server, I make it a point to look at them and make some small-talk comment; often it leads to a short, happy conversation, a human connection bridging our lives for a few light-filled moments, as happened earlier today when I was chatting with the Target cashier as she rang up my purchases. My granddaughters always laugh; "Nana! You're always talking to strangers!" They find it - and me - a bit odd. We went to Disneyland recently and I spoke to strangers throughout the entire day: a couple having an impromptu picnic in the grass, a group of young men who asked me to take their picture, people standing in line with us. They were thoroughly amused at their crazy-friendly Nana.

I was shoe-shoppping recently and had a completely delightful conversation with another shopper, a friendly, light-hearted woman about my age, with a beautiful light about her. We talked about which heels to buy, which lead to a discussion about dancing, where she and her husband go, about salsa and Latin men, about the other items she was purchasing - oh, we had the best time two strangers in a store could have in ten minutes!

Sometimes Bug and Li'l Bug will try to talk to me while I'm paying a cashier, and I gently remind them not to interrupt, that I have to pay attention to the person with whom I'm currently interacting. Long ago, I used to work retail and when I'd be ringing up a sale, I'd make it a point to pay attention to the shopper, to acknowledge them and thank them. Sometimes the shopper wouldn't even look at me, vaguely handing the money over in my general direction, taking the bag and mumbling a "thanks" as they walked away, their head in some other place far away. Sometimes in a place of business, I'll wonder if I've suddenly acquired the super-power of invisibility - (proclaimed in an announcer's voice) Invisible Girl! - as I try to get a server or sales associate's attention.

These days, I see people all the time rudely yakking away on their cellphones while the cashier or order-taker is trying to help them, sometimes trying to get an answer to a question while the shopper is entirely oblivious to the person's existence. Lately, I've seen signs in a few shops asking people to get off their cellphones while placing their order. This always makes me smile - and I then have a nice chat with the order-taker about the sign and we both laugh.

Simple politeness would tell one not to be on a cellphone when you're conducting a transaction with another human being. Simple politeness would suggest that we acknowledge one another as we go about our days, to smile or nod a "hello" as we pass. Simple politeness would compel us to engage with one another using good manners, looking the other person in the eye, speaking in a friendly voice. It lifts up both parties when we do so. And it shows your mama raised you right.

"The Christ in me recognizes the Christ in you." Instead of being a thousand miles away, we can be Here, in the present moment, present to the other people in our immediate energetic field, exchanging that energy with one another, acknowledging their simple humanity, influencing one another in a positive way, maybe brightening someone's day for a few moments. We can recognize the Divine in one another when we take a moment to simply and fully be present to each other, to see the simple Goodness within and smile and offer our Light.

~Namaste

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Today's simple pleasure: the CD of her own beautiful music compositions that my yoga teacher gave to me this morning.