Silently soaring

It was a gorgeous clear day as I was out for my morning walk last week. Blue skies, warm weather, soft ocean breeze. I was in a great mood, happy to be out and enjoying the day. Everything seemed to be sparkling and vibrating with a positive energy.

As I was nearing the end of my route, I saw a hawk soaring in the sky, a few blocks away and to the right of me. I slowed down my pace to watch it in the distance … wings extended w-i-d-e … utterly effortless … soaring on the air currents.

Dipping one wing ever so slightly, the hawk made slow, lazy circles against the blue sky. One circle, two circles … no flapping of wings, just circling with absolutely no effort of any kind. Is anything in life as utterly effortless as that hawk soaring up there? I thought. Straightening out, the hawk lifted a little higher in the sky and began riding the air currents in my direction.

I was captivated by the peace and grandeur of this majestic bird. As I watched, I imagined what it would be like to be that hawk. Simply opening my arms/wings wide – opening up my heart and spirit - and soaring … soaring … completely unfettered, utterly free … no anchor binding me to earth, trusting that the air currents would support my journey … not making the slightest effort, no flap of wings, no sense of urgency. Nothing to do, nothing to undo. Just be. How peaceful it would be to soar like that, up in the silent sky above.

In an interview recently, the interviewer asked me what I’ve been doing since I was laid off in March. I gave an answer, but later I thought about it more. What have I been doing?

I’ve experienced the peace and beauty of a hawk soaring in the heavens.

I’ve laughed at the squirrels scampering along the lawn or at an industrious one hurrying up a tree with a peanut safely in its mouth.

I’ve made friends along my walking route: Jan and her Corgi, Penny Lane; John and his grandson; Geri who had shoulder surgery; the young couple who rescue and foster big dogs; the older couple who foster Great Pyrenees.

I’ve sat outside in the summer, enjoying my garden and the golden sunshine.

When a friend was in the hospital for lung surgery I went to visit her.

When my granddaughters had dentist appointments, I took them.

On Veterans Day, I went to Pier Plaza for a very moving ceremony.

When my old high school friend, June, came out to California to visit, we spent an afternoon at the beach catching up and laughing and crying as we shared our life experiences.

I took my family for a wonderful vacation in Mexico on the Mayan Riviera. And there were no worries about all the work I’d have to come back to.

I’ve fostered a wonderful, perfect dog named Snowbell that I fell in love with.

I’ve tackled long-delayed chores, giving the garden a thorough clean-up, painting the bathroom, painting and re-organizing my office (still in progress).

I’ve walked every day in the sunshine, firming up my legs and hips, strengthening my back, my skin brown from the sun, losing 15lbs. so far.

And this last week, I spent time with my son-in-law in the hospital, giving him massages to help with the nausea, spending time with him as his doctors found the cause of his illness and helped him to regain his health.

What have I been doing since I’ve been laid off? I’ve been grateful for the many wonderful and beautiful opportunities I’ve been given, so many things I wouldn’t have been able to do while working. I’ve slowed down, smelled the roses, walked in the sunshine.

I’ve opened my arms wide and I’ve soared.

Namaste

dancing in the mirror …

This morning as I laid in bed, still in that beautiful, open, in-between space between sleep and wakefulness, my mom was suddenly and surprisingly on my mind. I instinctively started saying over and over "I love you. I love you. I love you." As love filled that golden space between, I sensed her as a young woman – so pretty! - dancing in front of a mirror. The image was so clear: She wore a long, creamy movie-star-style dressing gown, swaying prettily in front of a full-length mirror, a glimpse of leg peeking out from the dressing gown as she moved and danced. The energy of it was just so beautiful and I felt so filled with love between us.

I get these mind/heart images or thoughts or energies about her from time to time, and they’re usually from before I knew her, not as I knew her after I was born. It’s as if she's telling me more of her story, the parts that I wasn’t here for yet, as if she wants me to know who she was here outside of her narrow definition to me as “Mom.”

You should know that Mom was a champion swing dancer, winning many contests with one of her brothers as her partner. Oh, she loved to dance! Seeing her moving in front of that mirror as a young woman this morning seemed so natural, exactly as I would imagine her doing at that age.

As I said, these sensations occur from time to time, and usually not in that in-between time in the morning. I’ve had sensations when I’m doing something completely random - maybe cooking, or shopping, or seeing something interesting on a walk or while driving – and there’ll she’ll be in my heart/mind, her energy of love so instantly recognizable. I’ll feel a sense of how she experienced something very similar to what I’m doing in that moment, how she experienced life when she was pre-wife and pre-mom; I’ll get a sense of her wonder or her delight or her surprise at these things.

Crazy? Odd? Maybe. I don’t sit around and mope about her being gone; I know and trust that she is in a place of utter love and beauty and is purely, abundantly happy. So, I don’t think I’m manufacturing these sensations from a sense of loss. I don’t know. The energy seems to come to me unbidden, in the most random of circumstances.

It’s interesting to me that she chooses to show me her story. They’re not messages of guidance to help me on my own journey or warnings of some future event. They’re more like a sense of knowingness in my heart/mind, very sweet, very comfortable, very wonderful. I smile when they happen and say to myself “Oh! I see! Thank you” and I feel that I know more of her story through her own energy.

I think it’s wonderful that she’s done this for me from time to time. We’re here so briefly; in a couple of generations, the small details of our stories – favorite flavor of ice cream, our first kiss, our delight at a specific smell – will be lost. There will be no one left to tell our stories. And I’m fine with that. This is not our eternal life here; it’s just a pit stop where we do some work, live, laugh, love. But maybe after we’re gone, we’ll do like Mom and share those stories with our loved ones energetically (if that’s what’s happening; I’m still not ruling out “crazy” as a possibility, or, as my dad says, maybe I’m just “getting swimmy in the head”).

Do you ever have a sensation of a loved one who’s crossed over? How does it feel to you?

Where am I?

"Nature does not hurry, yet everything is accomplished" ~ Lao Tzu

“The thing that's totally different between children and adults, Rose, is that children have the ability to spontaneously use their imagination to forget what's bothering them and be inspired by every pony, feather, or bug that crosses their path.” ~ The Universe

I think that nearly anyone reading this knows about - and maybe practices - being in the present moment. Lately, I’ve been considering this in relation to children, animals and nature. I’m learning so much by just watching how they remain fully present – and do it absolutely naturally, just like breathing.

Little babies are about as present as a person can get. No thoughts tumbling toward the future: there is no concept of time to a baby, there is only Now. (I don’t really buy into the concept of measuring time; a topic for a future post.) No worries about the past; the baby’s too young to even have much of a past. There is only Now.

Watch little babies and see how present they are. They respond to what happens with pure honesty. There is no editing, or remembering their manners. They get hungry, they cry. They get tickled, they laugh. They feel like burping, they burp. [smile] They forget the everyday bad things quickly. One minute they want this toy, the next minute they’re distracted by something else. Always Now, always present.

Animals are very much the same. No past or future worries. Only Now. They run around the yard just to run. Or dig in the garden because it’s a doggy thing to do. They don’t stop and consider their actions against what they’ve done in the past or what they might plan to do in the future. Their pleasure is in the present, exactly where they are right now.

And how about ocean waves, gently crashing to shore and then sighing back out? Over and over, without ever ceasing. When my then-husband first left our daughter and me, I spent a lot of time sitting on the beach, watching the waves move back and forth, reassuring me that the world continues on, that in the constancy, the Now of the ocean, there is only the present moment. Here is Now … and here is Now … and there really only is Now. That is the only place that we ever truly are. Here. Right now.

“Where am I?”

“I am here.”

“What time is it?”

“Now.”

There is a wonderful, transformative movie called “Peaceful Warrior” that I highly recommend. I use the above quote from the movie a LOT in my life, when my mind is rushing and playing pinball around a hundred things at once. When I sense my thoughts getting all jumbled up and chaotic, I stop and ask myself “Where am I?” I answer “here.” My pinballing thoughts stop and I shift into Now. I see where I am (yoga, on a walk, at my desk, driving), and I focus on being present to this moment, maybe feeling the strength of a trikonosana or really seeing (and smiling at) the people in the cars around me. (And, sometimes seeing that I should probably slow down a little.)

Babies, animals, nature – by observing them, I learn more about releasing past and future and being fully present to Now.

Edited 11/07/09: I was just reading today's practice on The Oneness Experiment and found a very similar theme on The Rhythm of Oneness:

"Children allow themselves to move at their natural rhythm and pace. They accept what arrives from moment to moment and then allow it to spontaneously flow into something else."

I always say kids can teach us and help us to remember because they're still so fresh from God.

Namaste

Honest Blogger

I've happily discovered several new blogs (to me) recently that truly speak to my soul. When I first started blogging, a couple of the blogs I first found were wonderful story blogs, people sharing the stories of their lives. Then some of my friends from my decorating group sites started blogs about decorating with a lot of beautiful pics, and I started following several of them. Somehow, I've been lead to sites lately that speak more to the spirit, to an awakening, to the beauty of our inner selves. These truly speak to me, as my own blog was initially intended to be about my own exploration to the center of my self. (I believe that age makes one more self-reflective. At least it does in my case. :-D)

One of those blog discoveries is Laura, at Shine the Divine: Creativity as a Spiritual Practice. Her blog includes her beautiful art and messages that bring a smile to the heart. Laura surprised me by awarding the Honest Blogger Award to me this week! Thanks, Laura! I'm not normally one who posts awards, but this really touched me because Laura is a new friend and sister in my journey.

Per some of the guidelines of the Honest Blogger Award, as honest bloggers we:

* Speak our truth from the heart and tell it like it is
* Share openly and honestly our true feelings without fear of judgement, blame or shame
* We acknowledge our strengths and weaknesses and don't see them in terms of success or failure
* We are free spirits

There are several more, all basically saying that an Honest Blogger strives to be honest, guileless, and acknowledge that we are each on our own unique and special journey.

I'll admit that I'm still not fully comfortable about sharing at times; I do still have some fear of judgement. I guess most of us do. We all want to be liked. We all want others' approval, not their disapproval. But there comes a point when we begin to learn to stand in our own truth, when the judgement of others doesn't matter as deeply as our desire to be known for who we are.

Who am I? A reader, a pianist, a dancer, a writer, an artist, a thinker, a person of love and peace and so much more. These are some of the things that I am in my self, outside of my relationships to others (family, friends, colleagues). To truly know my self is to know who I am when my identity is not defined by my relationships. It's easy to get caught up in being defined as mother, daughter, sister, friend, spouse, but in the still, quiet moments of life, we each stand alone and need to know who we are in that space.

There are many who I consider to be Honest Bloggers that I follow, so I don't feel comfortable awarding this to just one right now. If you feel that you are an Honest Blogger, though, (and honestly, you would know better than me) please take the award if you wish. Thank, you, Laura!

I wish you truth and peace in the still and quiet spaces. 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.

Grandma’s 94th birthday!

Saturday was Grandma’s 94th birthday! I’m lucky she lives within 30 minutes of me so I popped over to her house in the afternoon with a birthday card and a geranium that I potted up from my garden. Grandma and I share a love of gardening; since the day I met her, I’ve enjoyed exploring her garden when I visit.

Grandma is actually my ex-husband’s grandmother. When my daughter was born, Grandma got a new nickname, Great G, to celebrate her status as a great-grandmother. After the divorce, Great G always remembered my daughter/her great-granddaughter for every birthday and every holiday, sending a card, a gift, always letting my daughter know how very much she was loved. Other than my sister-in-law who I’ve always remained close to, we didn’t have much contact with the rest of the family (for various reasons that really don’t matter after all these years). But Grandma and I exchanged cards and letters from time to time, keeping a bond of love between us. When my daughter grew up, married and had her daughters, I told her we had to go take the girls to see Great G. Oh, Great G just sparkled at seeing her great-great-granddaughters!

To meet Grandma is to love her. A little bit of nothing, she weighs less than 100 lbs. But she’s not frail or fragile in any way! Her hair is always beautifully coifed, as red as it’s always been. Her voice is strong and capable, her movements sure. She has trouble hearing and some sight issues, but nothing stops her. She demonstrated to me Saturday that her hands – even with arthritis in her right one – still have good gripping power for her garden clippers. On a bad day when her two arthritic fingers don’t work correctly, she just bends them around the handles and gardens away!

That’s the kind of woman she is. Never a complaint, never a mean word about anyone (at least to me). She’s resilient and resourceful. No car? No problem. She walks to where she wants to go. The grocery store, church – she gets done what has to be done.

And her stories! I love hearing her stories and Saturday over coffee I enjoyed one after the other. Grandma was born very early on a Sunday morning on October 3, 1915, on the family farm in Kansas City, Kansas, the youngest of her mom’s children. The doctor lived 12 miles away, but he didn’t have a horse and buggy so Grandma’s Daddy took his own horse and buggy to go fetch the doctor. Grandma’s mother knew the menfolk would be hungry so she made breakfast for them so it’d be ready when they returned. Then, at 6am, Grandma was born.

Life on the farm taught her to be strong and take care of what needed taking care of. Every summer there were fruits and vegetables to be canned. The meat was kept in the cold storage (they didn’t have a freezer or electricity) but if the weather warmed up, they’d have to take the meat and can it, too, so it wouldn’t spoil and go to waste.

She grew up, married, had her two daughters. Her husband, though, had a wandering eye and left the family a couple of times. Afterward, she said, he’d always summon her and she would go. (She shook her head with obvious regret as she told me this.) She finally divorced him and bought her home for her and her daughters, telling them that this was it, she wasn’t going to be moving any more. (She’s lived there over 60 years.) She worked at the market deli to support herself and her daughters. And she told herself that she wished he would call. Sure enough, he did, and this petite, strong woman gave him her answer: no, not this time, not ever again. Grandma was smiling and proud of herself as she told me the story, looking strong and young as she remembered.

Until recently, Grandma still hung her laundry out on the clothesline to dry. She had a retractable line in the backyard that she’d pull out from one pole and then pull it across the width of her yard to secure it to the pole on the other side. As she says, “it wan’t a bother.” She’d always done it this way and it’s what she was used to. She finally has a dryer now, though, and when we were in the kitchen fixing coffee, she grinned and told me in a conspiratorial whisper that she really likes how much easier it is to use the dryer. Ha!

She says she likes the church she goes to now, but that she sometimes has a hard time hearing the preacher. Grandma prefers the Baptist church she used to go to, where the preacher spoke more loudly and forcefully. She likes a church, she says, with her face crinkling into a smile, where she can shout “Hallelujah!” The old church is too far to walk, though, so she goes to the one that’s close by, walking to church on Sunday morning and getting a ride back home from a neighbor. I’ve never been in a Baptist church. I think I’ll give her a call in a couple of weeks, and see if she’ll let me take her to her old church. I’m looking forward to shouting a couple of Hallelujahs myself.

Happy birthday, Grandma, you wonderful woman!

a little respect, just a little bit …

“…we now have a permanent presidential campaign that encourages all partisanship, all the time among our leading politicians.” - ” http://www.nytimes.com/2009/09/30/opinion/30friedman.html?em

All partisanship – I’m not sure that I’m for “all partisanship.” I think we need to be bi- or multi-partisan – with intelligence, respect and courtesy for all parties involved. We need people to have differing opinions, to debate the issues from multiple viewpoints, to not agree on the best solution from the get-go. Each party should want something different, creating some tension in the argument that will give rise to flaws, errors in judgment, political blindness. Instant agreement doesn’t dredge up and expose the bad stuff.

I was once in a business meeting where two parties – the heads of their respective departments – seriously disagreed on an issue; option A would would have greater negative impact on one department, and option B would have greater negative impact on the other. Each one argued her points passionately and intelligently. And always respectfully. I remember thinking how impressed I was with each of them at that moment. It was the job of each department head to run her department well and to represent the best interests of the department, and that’s what each of these women was doing. This was an important issue and needed the depth of review and debate that their discussion was providing. If they’d agreed from the outset, there would have been no quality review, no discussion and questioning and exposure.

I believe it’s healthy – even vital and necessary - to have two (or more) different viewpoints when discussing Important Issues. Get it all out there, expose the flaws, discuss options, disagree and explain why you disagree. Listen. Listen and understand. Don’t keep playing the same record; listen to someone else’s. Broaden your thinking.

All this name-calling across the aisles and emotional propaganda by both sides is disrespectful of others’ opinions. The disrespect (and threats) accorded our previous and current presidents does not advance the discussion in an intelligent manner.

We need differing viewpoints on healthcare, the economy, and the other Important Issues. And we need to respect those viewpoints and appreciate that each person is doing his/her job, representing the best interests of his/her constituencies. It could be dangerous if everyone fully agreed on every Important Issue. We should agree that bipartisanship is a good thing. And respect our differences.