in love

have you ever had the experience of hearing a word or phrase that you've heard a thousand times before, and suddenly, a new meaning reveals itself to you?

that kind of ah-ha moment happened this morning. As my consciousness started awakening, I noticed myself feeling blissfully comfortable and content. I sort of lazily wondered why that was, and a voice in my head said, "Because I'm in love."

In the blink of an eye, I understood that at a whole new level: Love is like a river flowing through my being, and I can float in it or sit on the bank watching it go by. It's not that either one is better than the other; there's a time and a place for each. Sometimes it feels nice to dry off and sun myself for a few minutes on the shore. But usually, I like to be fully immersed.

I wonder if maybe our culture is misunderstanding things a bit when we say we are in love with someone else. Maybe it's just that as we hold the object of our affection in our attention; as we think of them fondly and focus on the good things about them, we are stepping into the river of our own well being. Thinking kind and positive thoughts about other people, ourselves, or even our pets, locates us in the vibration of love.

Listen to the radio for a few minutes and you'll hear plenty of cultural messages that tell us love is about the other person. Don't take your love away from me, How do I live without you, You're my everything, You're the one. You, you, you. No wonder many of us get so freaked out when the other person leaves or changes their mind about us! We've been taught to locate the source of love in someone else, or in the relationship, instead of in ourselves.

Maybe the truth is that we love how we feel when we are loving. That's not quite as specific and personal as we might wish it to be - it means love is portable. We may notice that in the presence of certain packages of qualities, or certain physical chemistries, it is easier for us to step into our own rivers of well being. And that's very nice, especially when it's mutual.

But maybe that's all the other person really is -- a catalyst. No one else can take us there. We step into Love on our own volition.

deciding

I jotted down these notes on a scrap of paper so I could flesh it out into an article when I had time. When I came back to it, it sounded kind of like a poem to me, and I didn't feel like adding anything else.

Decisions

No future.
No outcome.

Simply

yes or no
in each moment.

Then let it go.

The next moment
is already here.

what's playing in my head today

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7zN9vd9WUiA

Drive
by Incubus

love these lyrics!!

oh! I just found an acoustic version that's even better!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RpwsuhOUAkk&feature=related

soul medicine from Hafiz

Now is the Time

Now is the time to know
That all that you do is sacred.

Now, why not consider
A lasting truce with yourself and God.

Now is the time to understand
That all your ideas of right and wrong
Were just a child's training wheels
To be laid aside
When you finally live
With veracity
And love.

Hafiz is a divine envoy
Whom the Beloved
Has written a holy message upon.

My dear, please tell me,
Why do you still
Throw sticks at your heart
And God?

What is it in that sweet voice inside
That incites you to fear?

Now is the time for the world to know
That every thought and action is sacred.

This is the time for you to compute the impossibility
That there is anything
But Grace.

Now is the season to know
That everything you do
Is sacred.

from The Gift - Poems by Hafiz the Great Sufi Master
translations by Daniel Ladinsky

This poem is medicinal for me. Since being rear-ended in February, I have been making many more "mistakes" than ever before in my life, and sometimes I feel so frustrated and embarrassed - strong reactions that are sort of foreign to me.

Back when I was in school I was always a straight A student, and I grew accustomed to trying hard, doing well, and being commended for it. Now, these temporary cognitive issues have me making errors I don't even notice.

I occasionally start typing the next word in the middle of the word I'm on, use the wrong words completely (that instead of the) or the wrong form of the word (plural when I meant singular.)

What's worse, for me, is that I don't catch my errors. The little flag that used to signal an error upon proofreading seems to have changed to the same color as the background, and I often don't see it at all.

Since the accident did not impact my desire to understand every little thing, I've been observing myself. I've identified three major kinds of mistakes so far:

- minor glitches that I don't even notice until someone else points them out to me (like missing a digit while writing a check and ending up paying interest on a bill I thought was fully paid up)

- things I try to do well and fall short on (like trying to make muffins and burning them because I forget to set the timer)

- actions that spring from deliberately good intentions but do not turn out as planned (like writing an email to commend someone that ends up being circulated and results in others feeling like their hard work has gone unrecognized)

Each seems to trigger its own flavor of ego pain in me. The minor glitches are just embarrassing, and painful in a way that is clearly out of proportion to the offense. I think that's because my long-held identity as a smart, competent, and reliable person is being chipped away one flake at a time, and because this kind of mistake happened only very rarely before the accident. But I get over those fairly quickly. It helps that most often I can take them off the books by fixing them.

Trying and falling short is a bit more embarrassing, and my mind often wants to react with some kind of contraction - like don't stick your neck out again! Only do what you can do perfectly. These, too, were somewhat rare before the accident, since I am typically pretty deliberate in my actions. But it's not too terrible to deal with, because I value expansion, and I know it requires pushing my limits, and I accept that as risky work but worth it.

The third kind --good intentions that don't turn out as planned or appear to cause harm -- well, that one really sucks. I almost always cry when the unintended consequences of my actions are brought to my attention, and my heart sinks right into my stomach. Usually these are the kind of mistake that I cannot fix, and cannot take back. They've gone out into the world and have a life of their own.

This kind of mistake had happened before the accident a handful of times in my life, and I vividly remember each of them.

Another one happened yesterday, which is why I went in search of that poem. It helps for me to think that what appears to be a terrible mistake might actually be just one thread of a larger tapestry. Takes the pressure off, and opens my little ego to the reality that there's more than me here, and that I don't know it all.

Funny how needing to know it all can lead to such feelings of false competence and satisfaction, which then can be so easily yanked out like a carpet beneath my feet. Painful as it is, I am grateful for the opportunity to find something more solid than knowledge, competence or good outcomes to stand upon.

happy virus

after my moments of personal angst have come and gone, I settle in once more to my natural state of being, which Hafiz perfectly expresses for me here:


The Happy Virus

I caught the happy virus last night

When I was out singing beneath the stars.

It is remarkably contagious -

So kiss me.



from The Subject Tonight Is Love - 60 Wild and Sweet Poems of Hafiz

translations by Daniel Ladinsky

in tune with service

Your greatest value to others is when you are joyful. Your greatest value to others is when you are connected. Your greatest value to others is to be radiantly healthy. Your greatest value to others is when you are happy. Your greatest value to others is to have and to be and do all the things that are very important to you.

And as you are living that and vibrating that and oozing that and radiating that - then you are a catalyst that is inspiring others to an awareness of that.

~ Abraham-Hicks

I notice they said "catalyst" for others, not a force. The image I use to remind myself of this is a tuning fork. If you were to attempt to get a tuning fork to sing by hitting it with another one, their vibrations would cancel each other out. Each can only sing if it has space to move freely without inhibition from the other.

The way to inspire someone to joy, if you so desire, is to be unabashedly joyful in their presence . If any part of them also desires to feel joyful, it will effortlessly begin to resonate with your example.

To inspire honesty, be truthful. To inspire trust, be vulnerable. Strike your own fork first, and let your song ring out clear and true. Those who naturally resonate with you will soon add their voices to yours, and together, you will sing your world to life.

let it grow

got up early this am and was out on the trail by 7:20. I was aiming for the sunrise, but that didn't quite happen. it was a spectacular day, and I did my favorite kind of hiking -- walking slowly from big rock to big rock, covering very little ground, and spending the better part of 2 hours sitting and soaking up the sights and smells and sounds as the sun warmed my body from above and the rock cooled it from below.

it's a treat to move that slowly and aimlessly, and my mind usually quiets right down. thoughts of planning are replaced by thoughts of appreciation, and concepts that had been lodged in my mind often percolate down into my heart.

today I was pondering manifestation. Abraham-Hicks, The Secret, Napoleon Hill, and many many others have taught us that there are three steps - Ask, Let It Go, and Receive/Allow. As I walked along, I found myself thinking, "Oh, I should use this time to get clear about what I want next." I laughed out loud at the absurdity of spending this gorgeous day lost in my thoughts. And it hit me like a lightning bolt that I have been investing far more energy than is truly necessary in the Asking part.

In fact, I may have gotten so specific in my requests that I am actually being counter productive. So a new experiment was born in me. What if I just assume that I am already constantly asking, and instead put my energy and focus into the other two steps? I've heard Abraham-Hicks suggest this dozens of times. And today, I got it.

If I ask for a feeling, rather than the material details, it's just like placing an order at a restaurant. I don't need to go into the kitchen and supervise the cook - I can sit out in the clean and quiet dining room and enjoy myself with friends while my meal is prepared for me.

Almost everything I've ever wanted has eventually arrived - usually after I forgot about it. So I decided to let go of asking, and instead just enjoy what is here now, while assuming that more good things I will like are on their way.

And when I got back in the car, this song was playing on the radio:

http://www.last.fm/music/Eric+Clapton/_/Let+It+Grow

heard from my son at boot camp

thought you might want to know that the very highly anticipated first postcard arrived today. he said it's crazy, but worth it, and he misses us. my motherly heart is so much more at peace now.

thank goodness for the US Postal Service, which can bring such relief for less than 50 cents, and the kindly mail carrier who never once made fun of me for bolting out to the mailbox the second she drove up every day.

oh, and not only that, but in the same batch of mail was the most outrageously luscious bracelet - a gift from my friend Debra at blissmonger.com. You gotta check out her jewelry - I'm trying to figure out if I can sleep in this thing because it's just so dang satisfying to look at it. http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=5774840

:)

stepping

been getting the same message from all quadrants lately. Eckhart Tolle encapsulates it well:

Your entire life journey ultimately consists of the step you are taking at this moment.

It can be so tempting to look ahead or behind me for a reference point about where I am. My self-generated challenge lately has been to look within me instead -- to pay attention my inner guidance, which shows itself using a myriad of physical sensations; expansion/contraction, warmth/coolness, pleasure/discomfort, and opening/closing.

Sometimes it's hard to immerse my body and mind fully in the present step. I want to zoom ahead and ruminate about where this step is leading -- to predict the destination to see if I like it or not. Yes, I know the destination is never guaranteed. Intellectually, I realize this. But the part of me that really likes security still wants to scan and plan for desired outcomes.

Seems with each passing day this habit becomes less and less ingrained. I am so grateful for all the teachers and mentors who have helped me figure out what to do instead. Now when I notice the anxious feeling that tells me my mind is spinning off into the future, I remember that it just needs something better to do; kind of like a little kid who gets bored while his mom is visiting with a friend and starts digging into cabinets and underneath things in an attempt to find something interesting or entertaining.

My mind is stopped cold in its obsessive tracks if I give it a body-related task. So I've started telling it to scan and identify the points of greatest pressure. If I am standing, I tell it to discover how my weight is distributed on my feet.

My cranial therapist also taught me to try to feel my fourth toe on the floor - the one next to the pinkie. For me, doing this takes almost all of my attention; I can't hold anything else in my consciousness at the same time. And something funny happens if I try to resume my obsessive thinking after that - I just can't find my way back! It's like the trail has been erased. I love that.

swimming

listened to the June Abraham-Hicks CD this morning, and felt like they were talking directly to me. I've been swimming in grace again lately, after forgetting for a while that I could dip into that pool anytime I wanted to. Now that I say that, I wonder if it it is true that I forgot, really. It feels like more of a natural sort of rhythm, like the in breath and out breath. Forgetting is really not any better than remembering ... it's just part of the cycle. So it's okay.

Anyway, my neck and shoulders are still wracked from being rear-ended, but the therapists that are working with me are simply amazing, and I know I am in good hands. Opportunities for personal and professional expansion are everywhere I look, and what's super cool that I'm really grateful for is that I seem to be able to feel through the many gifts I have been given lately and tap into the Benevolent Giver that is the source of them all.

So when I hear the perfect song on the radio, I know it's not that I need to listen to that station or DJ forever -- they were just the vehicle through which the gift was delivered to me at that moment. And rather than fixating on the packaging, I've been able to enjoy the essence of the gift with gratitude, without grasping on to it, because I know that the Source of all these gifts has infinite delivery methods at its disposal. Not that there's anything wrong with grasping - it's all okay. It's just that this level of detachment and trust is a new and cool thing for me.

Oh, and you all, dear readers, are part of the delivery system! For the first time since I started blogging, I am now aware that people are coming here looking to see if I've written anything. And while that doesn't change the fact that sometimes I have nothing to say (or I'd rather be out at the pool than in here at my keyboard), it does inspire me to check in with myself more often to see if anything wants to come forth. So hey, thanks for being my muses!

bonus summer dvd rental recommendation: Lars and the Real Girl. it was wacky and sweet and out there, and a touching illustration of the internal joy that results from loving others as well as giving them the benefit of the doubt. I enjoyed it immensely.

cloud games

crikey I'm a prolific blogger today!

I just wrote this to a client, and I liked it, so I wanted to store it up for myself 'cause I bet I will need the reminder later. She's having some strong feelings coming up, and wondered out loud what she "should think about them":

If you can, don't bother thinking anything about them. It would be just about as pointless as analyzing the shape of the clouds. They are moving and shifting so fast that there's not really any reason to identify or discuss them other than for entertainment. It's unlikely that useful or redeeming conclusions will come from the endeavor.

See if you can invite your attention back to the physical - the ground under your feet, the heat of the sun on your face, the smell of the air, the subtle coolness where it enters your nose. Feeling for those sensations is a good antidote to spinning around in your mind.

gee-tar

could I be the only person on the planet who did not know that you could take guitar lessons on youtube? thank you, anonymous commentary person. your name will go down in infamy with my neighbors for giving me the link to Here Comes the Sun, which led me in two clicks to a much easier starter song, Breathe by Anna Nalick, which I will now play obsessively until my fingers bleed or someone yells at my window to shut up, whichever comes first.

Here's my youtube teacher for today. He's exactly my speed. This is so exciting! Now I can play two tunes, Other Side of the World by KT Tunstall, and this one. woo hoo!

http://youtube.com/watch?v=xPlWlemhAQQ&feature=related

inspired aging

I volunteer with the Boulder County Respite Care team, which matches community members with seniors who for various reasons have requested a friendly, helpful, weekly visitor. My current buddy is a beautiful 93 year old woman, and I eagerly look forward to seeing her each week.

Ours is truly a match made in heaven. She's feisty and independent and in excellent health, and her mind is sharp as a tack. The only thing she needs any help with is reading, because of her macular degeneration. So every week, I read to her from her Science of Mind publications, and we talk about concepts like energy follows attention and our thoughts create our experiences.


I am still in awe at the perfect synergy of our friendship. I was not familiar with Science of Mind or New Thought before I started reading to her - or more accurately, I was very familiar with the principles but did not know they were covered under that umbrella. I can hardly believe my good fortune that I get to spend two uninterrupted hours every week reading aloud the very concepts I most enjoy hearing. Adelle's radiant eyes and enraptured smile sweeten my joy into pure bliss.

She inspires me in so many ways. She's got a dental surgery coming up, and she's worried about it. And even as she is telling me this, she stops mid-sentence to rephrase: "And I am really looking forward to having it over with!"

Her upbringing was very strictly religious -- the kind of Catholicism that says God is always watching and you will never be good enough to satisfy him. Around the age of 65 she started hearing a brief five minute reading on the radio every morning as she got dressed that was like a soothing balm to her soul, which had always been deeply burdened by feelings of unworthiness.

Five minutes at a time, day after day, her burden was slowly penetratedby rays of light and awareness, until it became porous. Finally, she went in search of the local Science of Mind center that was sponsoring the radio segment, and started attending services regularly.

This magical transformation started at age 65. Sixty-five!! For 65 years she thought she was worthless. For her entire working life, she hid in the back of the office, never drawing attention to herself, feeling disposable, feeling afraid her unworthiness would be exposed to all. At her retirement party, even as she accepted the farewells and good wishes, she told herself that actually, they were glad to be rid of her.


When she was telling me this story, I noticed a tiny twinkle in her eye and a flicker of a smile cross her lips. I asked her why, and she said it's because the idea of being unworthy is just so impossibly funny to her now.

Recently, a friend of hers became upset with her for unknown reasons. Adelle told me that at first she felt sad and puzzled and worried that this friendship that she valued so much might be in jeopardy.

And then, just a moment's pause later, Adelle's face opened up into the most radiant smile. She told me that after just a little bit of sadness, she started remembering all the good times she had shared with her friend, and how much she had loved her for all these years, and her heart just opened up. She now feels compassion for whatever pain this misunderstanding must have triggered in her friend, and she said, "There must be something bigger going on that just hasn't been revealed to me yet. I just love my friend so much, and I'm sure this will all turn out okay."

Isn't she amazing? At an age when so many humans are closing down, she continues to open her awareness and compassionate heart wider with each passing day. She compliments me and thanks me for being in her life every time I am with her, and I tell her, "Honey, I'm not sure which one of us is actually the volunteer here!" It's an honor and a privilege to spend time with a being that is so devoted to growth and truth. She is expanding my vision about what is possible as we age. The body may diminish, but love and wisdom need never fade.

dust to dust

You know how sometimes in the movies a character gets obliterated but you can't really tell until a breeze comes along and scatters the million particles of him to the wind? I feel like that tonight.

What once felt solid -- my principles, my wishes, my dreams, my identities, my body, all the ways I know myself to be Me -- seems to be eroding away. I hear that's a good thing, but so far it just feels weird.

If someone asks me what I think or feel or stand for, it's hard to find an answer that feels true. It feels almost silly to talk, because nothing I can say feels accurate. It's become very challenging to represent myself.

I think I've gone through this before, and if memory serves me, it's temporary. Eventually I will probably pretend to be someone again -- someone with ideas and values who can participate in discussions. But until then, I feel kinda quiet. I'd rather just sit in the sun, listen to the wind, or feel the vibration of the guitar strings on my body while I try to teach myself some chords.

I still find it very satisfying to write about my experiences, in the way that I imagine a sculptor feels satisfaction from molding the block of clay until it becomes congruent with his vision. Sometimes my experiences will resonate with other folks, but I think that's just accidental. I write near you, but not really with you or for you. And none of what I say is actually true.

Just wanted to be honest with you. But you probably knew all that already ...

the consciousness of loving

It is not a past time, event, or relationship you yearn for. It the consciousness you held about it. Return to that consciousness, and you will create new experiences equal to or better than those you left behind.

- Alan Cohen


Excellent timing on this daily quote from Alan Cohen. I've been noticing this very thing lately.

This is the longest I've ever gone without a man in my daily life. I've been in a self-induced hibernation since Kevin and I split up in February. Did my little two day stint on match.com, noticed I felt crappy about it, and haven't put myself 'out there' since. I have enjoyed focusing on selling my house, settling in to my new place, and spending plenty of time with my son before he shipped off to boot camp.

I also wanted to take some time to observe myself as a single person. I had thought that maybe I would miss being loved. And I do, to some degree, but what I miss even more is how wonderful it feels to love. Of course I can and do love the flowers and the rain and the earth and my children and my friends and myself. What I find myself longing for is the deeply satisfying, no holds barred, totally surrendered kind of loving that so far I have only experienced and expressed within an intimate relationship.

So my solo experiment will continue until a man steps forward who wants to expand the exploration with me. In the meantime I'm perfectly fascinated by checking out what it feels like to open up as much to the sun as I would to a lover. Or to enjoy the wind on my skin as if it were a caress, and to walk on the earth as if I am massaging its back.

I think it could be possible to open up my consciousness of loving so widely that it almost doesn't matter if there is any personal receiver. It will be interesting to find out ...

feelings ... nothing more than feelings

In my previous post I wrote about the big crying jag I had the day my son left for the Coast Guard. Even as I was sobbing I was thinking to myself, "Gee, this is strangely overreactive." Then, as quick as it started, it left, and the same thoughts and songs and memories that had me choking back the tears moments earlier became just sort of ... well ... uninteresting.

So here's what I am wondering. What the heck ARE feelings, anyway? I used to think they were messages or indicators or at the very least, Important. Now, I'm not sure they matter at all. They seem to change whether I feel them fully or try to distract myself from them, talk about them or don't, dig underneath them or leave 'em alone.

Maybe feelings are no more personal than the weather. If it's rainy, we carry an umbrella and know it will eventually stop. If we're teary, we can stock up on kleenex and know that we, too, will eventually dry up.

I don't think I learned anything, grew in any way, or became a better person from the experience. I just cried. Until I stopped, and then I did something else. So what?

Here in Colorado where I live, we have a saying: If you don't like the weather, wait 5 minutes. It will change.

Don't like the feeling? No worries. It won't be around for long. If I can just buy myself some time so I don't have to act or make a major decision during the peak of intensity, no harm will come of it. No reason to feel bad about feeling bad.

What's ironic is that the more I realize this is true, the more I start to sort of enjoy ALL my feelings. They are so freakin' temporary ... like partners in a circle dance. I may as well have fun with them before they move along.

a mother's heart

I took my 17 year old son to join the Coast Guard tonight. That's him and me and my daughter at his graduation a couple weeks ago.

It surprises me that hours later, I am still crying. I thought I'd just say goodbye and turn my attention to the next thing. I know he is prepared. We were all prepared. I knew this day was coming for months in advance. Years, really.

I willingly signed the papers that allowed him to join before age 18. So it should have been no big deal, right?

Ha. Right. I never knew I had so many tears in me. I can't quite explain what is going on behind the waterworks - it feels like some kind of primal maternal grief. It makes no sense, but that doesn't seem to matter.

My boy is now a man.

My role has changed forever.

And I will miss him. That goofy earnest grin, thumping down the stairs on that impossibly noisy body. The pocket knives being snapped open and closed ad infinitum. The overly technical explanations of all things computer that I could hardly understand a word of.

The Coast Guard will be so lucky to have him. Ever since he was a little guy, he was always willing to drop anything to help someone. We moved a few weeks ago, during the time that he was preparing his final presentation for his high school graduation. Nevertheless, he provided solo tech support and heavy lifting for me and his sister. He had so many tasks of his own to complete, but the second he got wind of the teensiest curse emanating from the vicinity of my desk, he was at my side, ready to assist.

It seems like yesterday that I first looked into his newborn eyes and was shocked to realize that there was someone already in there, not just an empty vessel waiting to be filled. I can't believe 17 years could possibly have passed since then. They have been wonderful years, truly. I love my son with all my heart, and I could not be prouder of the man he has made of himself.

I know I have said this before, but perhaps it bears repeating. The active parenting years fly by. Few of us, parent and child alike, will remember the details. But your children will remember some things after they are grown: things like whether you approved of them, trusted in them, or gave them the benefit of the doubt.

They will remember whether you had confidence in them or not, and whether you saw their good intentions. They will remember if it was safe to tell you everything. They will remember the tone of your voice.

In fact, it's entirely possible that not only will our children remember the tone of our voices, but they may even hear our words to them repeated in their own minds for many years after they have left our care.

So today, while your kids are young and making so many mistakes as they figure out how things work, please be aware of how you speak to them. You still have time to make sure that when they leave your nest, you will feel good about the inner parent they have created from your example. And while you may still cry as they walk confidently away, your tears will be those of pure and simple sadness, untainted by regret.

And how interesting that as I write these words, my tears have finally stopped. For truly, I have no regrets. For this I can thank the many excellent authors and mentors who graced my parenting journey with the wisdom of their experience, as well as my own mother, who so gracefully continues to be the source of a parenting template based on unconditional love and respect.

Oh, and I can also thank my very shoddy and selective memory, since it has not stored up anything I am ashamed of for me to remember. Except that one time, when he was a toddler and in a very defiant phase, when I snapped and swatted his bottom. I felt terrible - that look in his eyes was devastating. Until that moment, he had trusted me implicitly. For the first time that day, I saw him fear me. Ouchie.

If you find some memories that you regret, too, it's never too late to make amends. Tell your child of any age what happened, how you feel about what you did, and what you wish you had done instead. Ask about their memories, their feelings, and their experiences related to that. Ask for their forgiveness, and forgive yourself. Then move on. We are all doing the best we can in any given moment.

Goodbye T. Good luck (even though you won't need it.)

It's time for you to fly.

postscript: what a difference 24 hours makes! there's something magical for me about expressing my feelings in writing. once I have fine tuned the words so that they feel like the exact expression of my feelings, the feelings themselves seem to dissipate. maybe the ink holds them instead of my heart -- I dunno. What I do know is that I felt immeasurably better when I went to bed last night, and the trend has continued. So in a way, the words above are already lies, because my experience has changed. But I'll leave them here anyway, in case they resonate with someone else someday.