People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don’t even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child—-our own two eyes. All is a miracle. Thich Nhat Hanh

With all God’s wonder around us, how can we function at all? Why aren’t we madly dancing in the street like the Sufis or prostrated and lost in prayer? Last night as I started the meditation for the Fearlessness Project I fell into a bottomless pool of wonder. The words flowed effortlessly, perfectly, opening a glimpse into a life of possibility and awe. How can we be dripping wet with the miraculous and not be washed free of indifference, boredom, and our self-absorption? What stops us from seeing this truth? What prevents us from being purely in service to this marvel?

We are all made of the same stuff—particles and waves, protons and neutrons, quarks and leptons—fermions, as named by the physicists, that aren’t differentiated at all, and yet we grow into Gayle, and Ken, Scott and Josh, and Carie. These fermions become all the apparently differentiated beings here on this planet. One bit of earth, of sperm and egg, for what are these bodies but the food we eat, the water we drink and the air we breath—nothing but dirt that majestically, magically joins together to beget life—a mystery so big that no one understands it and yet we remain standing. The wonder is that this mystery doesn’t drop us to our knees unable to function at all.

Seeds, millions of tiny seeds, all made of the same stuff, and yet they grow into flowers with millions of perfect blossoms in every color, shape, fragrance and size. They ripen into trees with so many shades and shapes of green it boggles the imagination. Stop by your local farmer’s field and marvel at the varieties of vegetables and fruits. Open your memory. You can taste the flesh of last summer’s peaches, melons, and cherries. Everywhere you look you can see plants of every kind and all of them too, are made of the same stuff. As they begin to peek through the soil, how do they know what to be?

If we could see the miracle of a single flower clearly, our whole life would change. Buddha

Lately I have been stopping to watch this miracle. The kiwis outside my office window share their constantly evolving process with anyone willing to stop and just be. I often find myself gazing out the window rather than working, more intent to watch God work. From my window onto the world I can watch hummingbirds, blue jays, woodpeckers, bees of every variety, all of them going about their business, serving their purpose without question, each the perfect hummingbird or woodpecker, blue jay or bee. Each one made of this same stuff. How does the egg know which design to create? Does the hummingbird whisper to its child inside and create its likeness with its prayer?

When we stop to revel, to glory in life, we are given such a gift. All that God asks of us is to slow down a bit from our hurry and to open to His generous majesty, to be present in this moment, fully present, here and now. In return we are given compensation beyond worth.

(Quote from Mr. Magorium’s Wonder Emporium—(Mr. Magorium and Molly have just reset all the clocks in a clock shop and now have 37 seconds until they all start to chime!)

Mr. Edward Magorium: 37 seconds.
Molly Mahoney: Great. Well done. Now we wait.
Mr. Edward Magorium: No. We breathe. We pulse. We regenerate. Our hearts beat. Our minds create. Our souls ingest. 37 seconds, well used, is a lifetime.

Our lives are capable of giving us and each other so much more than we imagine. With our fear of not having, not achieving, of losing, of dying, we run through our lives trying to stave off the boogeyman and walk right past the gems on our paths that silently await our presence. Our fears control us because we are afraid we haven’t begun to live yet. We know we are missing something very important.

Mr. Edward Magorium: Your life is an occasion. Rise to it.

That which we seek lies within presence. Wonder is a doorway. Stop a moment and just be with life—the trees, the birds, the flowers, each other. Everything has a precious gift to share. Wonder is present at the moment you too, are willing to be present. We are the adventure. We are wonder. We are life. Wonder and fall into this possibility. Your life too, is an occasion. Will you rise to it?

Please share your comments and thoughts. Let’s start a conversation and enter into wonder!

A new world dawns!

What is arising now is not a new belief system, a new religion, spiritual ideology, or mythology. We are coming to the end not only of mythologies but also of ideologies and belief systems. The change goes deeper that the content of the your mind, deeper than your thoughts. In fact, at the heart of the new consciousness lies the transcendence of thought, the newfound ability of rising above thought, of realizing a dimension within yourself that is infinitely more vast than thought. You then no longer derive your identity, your sense of who you are, from the incessant stream of thinking that in the old consciousness you take to be yourself. What a liberation to realize that the “voice in my head” is not who I am. Who am I then? The one who sees that. The awareness that is prior to thought, the space in which the thought–or the emotion or sense perception–happens. Eckhard Tolle, A New Earth

The dawning of a new age! Can you feel its energy? It is like the sirens voice calling Odysseus—it’s draw unmistakable. It may feel like uneasiness or ache, perhaps a call to service or an irresistible need to drop to your knees in prayer. This week for me the energy has felt like a tearing apart at the seams, not dissimilar to a root bound plant outgrowing its pot; only no new pot can contain this that is being born.

For the past two days a new and unusual restlessness has arisen. At times there has been a most natural compulsion to pull a pillow over my head and scream for release. However, I consciously chose to study this that was tugging at me like two horses, one tied to my hands, the other my feet. In the past there had been delays, lesser and lesser over time, between the rising of agitation and my recognition of what was afoot. In that space of delay I had already engaged the drama, wanting it to be something else, anything else, before the appreciation of choice dawned. This time an immediate sense of separation lay between the body of irritation and the observer, handing me an opening in which to see clearly.

It was very similar to what I experienced several nights ago when I went to bed after a day of amazing clarity and presence, and was overcome with an immense fear. This fear was far vaster than any I had encountered before. It felt profoundly primal. Mind and emotions were not caught up in the energy. In fact, mind was curious and not at all anxious. As I lay there I began probing to see what it was that was in bed with me. It soon became obvious that death had deftly slid beneath the sheets and no safe place existed for me on this earth.

Minutes later Ken crawled into bed I shared what I was seeing. He gently chuckled and said, “You know there is no safe place”. Yes. Mind knew. Emotionally, I knew. Spiritually I knew. Evidently, physically, this body didn’t. It was pure body fear, ancient, something deep inside that lies beneath the more apparent fears of scarcity and self-worth, the fears readily recognized when we are willing to look. This fear is unknown to us until we strip away the outer layers and as I saw, it resides within each of us.

Over the course of the last three years I have learned to engage my fears. I am not fearless, just willing to walk into the ‘valley of the shadow of death’ and meet my fears, not out of some super-human ability or sub-human stupidity, but because I wholly appreciate the alternative. I have lived at the effect of my fears for too many years and am fully cognizant of the dark places they take me. The grand experiment has done its job and created an undeniable awareness. With that awareness, choice is easy and effortless, creating an unwillingness to continue the game.

When fully met, fears are like air inside a balloon after the balloon pops—dispersed into the sky! I no longer attempt to let them go, to release them, to surrender. I walk willingly into them, opening every cell, inviting the fears to show themselves, to return home, here inside me, where they were birthed. It is a reintegration, a healing of separation, a return to wholeness.

That night in curiosity, I invited the fear to speak. “What is it you have to tell me, fear?” Sitting right in the middle of fear’s energy and after a few uncomfortable moments, I heard fear’s voice. “Ken may die. Your future, the life you dream of is not certain. In fact, it is quite uncertain.” Again, I shared the words with Ken. I stated the obvious, a fact of which we were both quite aware, yet since the re-diagnosis, these words had not been spoken. His silence was not a silence of denial but of acceptance. What would be; would be. Looking back would do no good. Looking forward would only prevent us from enjoying the life, the joy available to us in this moment.

Did that mean we would not fight the cancer? Yes. Fight, we have both decided, is decidedly the wrong word and the wrong action for us. Fighting against would strengthen the cancer. Anything we resist persists. We would embrace it, accept it and learn from it, all the while doing what appeared before us to do in each new moment.

Normally, once I have thoroughly investigated a fear, I give it back, forgive it to the Christ consciousness, and am liberated from its grip. As I lifted it up, I heard the words, “not quite yet” and understood that I was to accept its presence completely, not wanting it to leave nor wishing it to stay, to enter into full and utter surrender.

In that moment, I irreversibly understood, at least a current best understanding, as everything I know changes and expands with each deeper level of surrender. Letting fear in is a pre-requisite step to letting it go. If we look at fear as something to let go, it becomes another little box, something we hold out at arms length, preventing us from fully embracing it. We see the fear, know we need to let it go, box it up and wonder why it hangs around to haunt us. We have yet to let our stepchild out of our own private dungeon. So very subtly, we hold onto our fear, keep it imprisoned. But as each denied aspect of self is returned and re-embraced, a new level of freedom is granted and the new world draws closer.

So much is stirring! The energy for transformation is present. God bends low to earth in answer to our prayers. Yet we have our own personal work to attend to, daemons to meet, disenfranchised parts of our selves to reintegrate in order to make these vessels more receptive. Now is the time to return to Wholeness. Listen. You can hear the angelic voices calling you.

I welcome your comments and thoughts and reply to all who are willing to share of themselves.

Life or its imitation

Once upon a time, I, Chuang Chou, dreamt I was a butterfly, fluttering hither and thither, to all intents and purposes a butterfly. I was conscious only of my happiness as a butterfly, unaware that I was Chou. Soon I awaked, and there I was, veritably myself again. Now I do not know whether I was then a man dreaming I was a butterfly, or whether I am now a butterfly, dreaming I am a man. Between a man and a butterfly there is necessarily a distinction. The transition is called the transformation of material things. (Chinese Philosopher Master Zhuang)

Do you know what is real and what is imagination? Are you sure? If so, how do you know the difference? Your mind is an amazingly creative device. When you awaken from a dream, sometimes minutes pass before you can shake yourself out of what only a breath before appeared real. If you believed in the dream’s reality, what makes you believe only minutes later in the dream’s unreality? Which reality is true—the dream about life or life lived apparently outside the dream? Which dream is the dream? Beliefs are different for each of us. What is believed real for me may not be real to you. Is it possible that what is real comes with no bottom line certainty?

Morpheus to Neo: If real is what you can feel, smell, taste and see, then ‘real’ is simply electrical signals interpreted by your brain (The Matrix)

Is that all real is? Electrical signals? Each of us must answer that question for ourselves, but if you have experienced glimpses, have a sense of something beyond the wizard’s curtain, you already know that something other than this day-to-day experience exists. It is what drives the search. Without that inner understanding wouldn’t you be content, unable to conceive the possible validity of your butterfly nature. Perhaps there are layers of reality, like the layers of an onion, and different things appear real depending on your perspective and willingness to look deeper.

It’s an interesting conundrum, this reality question. When you are daydreaming—life lived within the dream—is that real? You make up stories in your heads, act out conversations, envision outcomes, and feel the energetic impact of your imagination in your stomach and heart. Is that real? Feels pretty real, doesn’t it? But as soon as you pop out of the trance, you immediately recognize the daydream as unreality. Too bad your body doesn’t have such a mechanism. If it did it would shake off the silent apprehension easily, effortlessly.

Imagination feels real, even after you snap out of the game. We humans spend much of our lives playing with imagination and fantasy. Most suffering stems from this mindplay as we strive to envision a life different from the one we have, replaying old conversations, conversations long gone and yet, energetically resilient.

Pay attention and you will find a goldmine of information floating through your head. Notice that it is not enough to live in the moment—that it is more important to analyze, to review, and replay. Become aware of how you spend your life’s precious days inside your head, playing with different versions of life instead of living it. In fact, can you detect that you spend so much time within the what ifs of imagination that you develop a craving for mindplay, little by little learning to prefer it to the real thing, even while you quietly pray for the voices inside your head to stop?

Most of us fear dying, afraid we haven’t fully lived because at some level we know we haven’t yet begun to live. Fear of death, when seen and acknowledged, is liberating, especially when we see the gift that lies beneath this desire to linger a little longer. Life is not a brain inside a bell jar. Life is full-on engagement. It is lived out loud and accessed only in the moment. Insistence upon our version of life keeps us locked inside our mind, crippling us emotionally and spiritually, consuming the spice of life. It kills us long before the body drops away. Our fear of death is actually our desire to truly live, to experience living life out loud.

Death is not the greatest loss in life. The greatest loss is what dies inside us while we live. Norman Cousins (American Essayist and Editor, long associated with the Saturday Review. 1912-1990)

This ache, this loneliness, this sense of faking our way through life, is our blessing. It is the divine cattle prod, the siren’s call to freedom. For many of us it is the reason we search. It asks nothing of us other than to answer its call and understand its message. And the message is, “What you have been doing has not been working or you wouldn’t still be looking for answers, you would have become answer, complete in yourself”.

What have you been doing? Have you been attempting to think your way out of your predicament, envisioning the perfect future, perhaps even uttering words of hope and faith, but to what purpose, to change your current reality into one you deem better? Have you held out hope for your awakening to ensure your specialness, hope for your success to guarantee that others look up to you, hope for your picture of the perfect life that will finally establish your worthiness? Have you held out hope to be any of many things rather than abandoning desire and looking to life as it is? Each hope, is a wolf in sheep’s clothes, a distraction from reality, another foray into mind! Are you ready yet to lay down your arms and consider the message?

Morpheus to Neo: This is your last chance. After this, there is no turning back. You take the blue pill - the story ends, you wake up in your bed and believe whatever you want to believe. You take the red pill - you stay in Wonderland and I show you how deep the rabbit-hole goes.
Morpheus [to Neo who is choosing the red pill] Remember… all I’m offering is the truth. Nothing more.

What is truth? What is real? Can you really know? Would you like to? You will not find the Real in imagination. You won’t even find ‘life’ in imagination. Life is only lived on the razor’s edge, between past and future. It shimmers lightly right here in this moment even before thoughts about the present. A life of imagination is not life. It is make-believe, fantasy, pretend, imitation—no different than imaginary food on a child’s play table. This pretend life leaves one empty and unfulfilled, aching for the Real. It leaves us gasping for air, depressed and alone. Life is only lived as one chooses to be fully present, fully here, regardless of what or who shows up, even when it’s messy and uncomfortable as it is certain to be.

Do you want freedom from mind’s endless conversation, from your self-condemnation and fear of inadequacy—this mess we all, when we are willing to be brutally honest, find ourselves in. Do you genuinely want emotional, mental and spiritual freedom? Stop a minute before you answer. There are many reasons you might want to continue this mindplay. As you well know, at times it is quite fun and entertaining. It has kept you utterly occupied for years. Stop and recognize that choosing Now, choosing to show up for life, means stopping the game, stopping the play of mind, stopping the forays into daydream, into what if, and the scenarios of your perfect life—you know, the life you will have when and if you get lucky or better yet, work hard enough. Choosing this moment has infinite implications. Are you ready to quit dreaming and enter into Life, ready to reclaim yourself from the bell jar of your imagination? Are you willing to really live? Will you choose the red pill?

Morpheus: I’m trying to free your mind, Neo. But I can only show you the door. You’re the one that has to walk through it.

 

What did you think about the article? Your comments are welcomed and will be responded to as well!

Learning to fully live during tough times

Bad times have a scientific value. These are occasions a good learner would not miss. Ralph Waldo Emerson

Ken’s asleep now. It’s been a big couple of days. Seems like a life time has come and gone; perhaps it has. Surgery for the new melanoma was Wednesday morning—early. Ten hours later, it was over. Four hours later he was out of recovery and into the next phase of life, learning to survive cancer. My work with the men at the Oregon State Correctional Institution gave me gave me an appreciation for freedom. Ken’s rollercoaster ride with cancer has given me a whole new appreciation for life and a deep understanding of the preciousness of each of life’s moments.

I know now why people close down and create walls around themselves for protection. Being open is painful when what is present is filled with sadness and suffering, but that is my commitment, to not close down in any way so here I sit wide open, allowing it all to be what it is, without story, without running or hiding. The love of everyone is so present here too. One would miss that if they closed down. You have to accept it all, to remain open to it all, or you miss the joy inherent in the sorrow, you miss the deep connection that lies amidst the pain.

The natural instinct of self-preservation creates walls easily, automatically, lending itself well to fight or flight, and misses the opportunity of being present. It would be nice if we could partition off the good from the bad and experience only happiness and joy, but we can’t. When we partition off the unacceptable, we partition ourselves off from life. We build walls that prevent us from experiencing all of life. Rather than experiencing life, being truly alive, we unconsciously tone down our experience to one we deem more acceptable. Unfortunately what we get is a mental experience rather than the entire experience, one that leaves us feeling disconnected and lost.

Every life has dark tracts and long stretches of somber tint, and no representation is true to fact which dips its pencil only in light, and flings no shadows on the canvas. Alexander Maclaren

A picture is worth a thousand words, so let me draw one. When we build a wall, it is as if we create a shell around ourselves. Consider yourself an egg inside an egg shell. Without the shell the egg slides all over the place…including into the frying pan…erase that…good for a picture but the analogy, while accurate, will most likely add more fear rather than opening an opportunity to shed it.

Let’s try again with a trip down memory lane. Back in 1976 John Travolta starred in a movie called, “Boy in the Plastic Bubble”, a film about a boy who was forced to live in a plastic isolation chamber because he was born with a non-functioning immune system, leaving him vulnerable to even the most common everyday viruses. The bubble is a great analogy for what we do to ourselves when we say ‘no’ to any aspect of our lives. In “The Grand Experiment” we call it the crystalline shell. Rather than being forced to live inside the bubble, though, we choose it, believing it to be safer than this painful experience of life. The virus we are vulnerable to is fear. When something good comes along, we don’t drop the layers and step free of the bubble. If we did that, the painful energy might find us, so instead, we engage life, the good and the bad from inside the bubble.

None of this is conscious, and though it may sound contradictory, it is a choice. It becomes a choice when we realize what is happening. At that point, we choose either to stay safely inside the bubble or choose to crack it, dissolve it, dismantle it…whatever it takes to live freely. Even knowing, we may continue to choose what appears to be safety, at least until the pain of being ensconced within the bubble exceeds the pain we perceive to be on the outside. In the movie, John Travolta’s character fell in love with the girl next door. He decided that life on the outside, even if it meant his death, was better than a long, safe life, disconnected from the ability to fully love—a true coming of age story.

Coming of age…what does that mean? It usually means growing up and entering into adulthood. Consider using it to mean growing into a true human, into our humanity, into our full compassion, fully aware of what it means to be human and that includes the good and the bad, the suffering and the pain. We are not meant to find the golden bucket at the end of the rainbow. There is no prince on a white horse. We cannot and should not choose only the apparent good in life. If we do we miss out on life…messy life…complex life…real life. We miss out on the ability to engage life. We miss out on the ability to live life fully present—present and accounted for! We look through the bubble and wonder why it feels as if we are missing out on something, why we feel so disconnected, why life just doesn’t satisfy. Inside the bubble we have the appearance of safety, but it is killing us slowly, roasting us one dream at a time. Outside is painful. Outside is joyful. Outside is all full! Outside is life. Inside is mind’s version, mind’s game, mind’s diversion from life.

Live now. None of us know how long we have here or how long the people we love will be with us. These moments are precious. They are God’s gift to each of us when we choose to fully experience life. Hell is inside the bubble of mind’s making. Heaven is filled with sorrow and suffering, joy and ecstatic, full-on living and it is here, outside the bubble. Come out and play.

Just as the wave cannot exist for itself, but is ever a part of the heaving surface of the ocean, so must I never live my life for itself, but always in the experience which is going on around me. Albert Schweitzer

 

You are invited to comment and share your thoughts and feelings. Perhaps you too have learned a lesson you would like to share. This is the way we learn and evolve. This is your forum, your opportunity to connect. Looking forward to hearing from you!

So easy to sow

Doubt is a pain too lonely to know that faith is his twin brother. Khalil Gibran

Doubt is an interesting word. Many times I have heard people say, “I would love to let go of doubt”. The phrase is usually accompanied by a downward look or a wistful sigh and little or no belief in the possibility of success. Doubt seems to be a given in most lives. It appears to be a chronic illness that plagues us. The problem though, is that doubt has a certain value in casting off dogmatic ways of thinking and releasing ideas and behaviors past their usefulness. First we doubt; then we move beyond doubt. Well used, doubt moves us into action, stirs us into discovery and curiosity, so that we sit always atop the razor’s edge, balanced between doubt and certainty, centered in our heart. Doubt, when it leaves us wrapped in razor wire, tangled in mind’s uncertainty, is quite another story.

If you would be a real seeker after truth, it is necessary that at least once in your life you doubt, as far as possible, all things. Rene Descartes

Have you ever wondered why it only takes a breath to undo the promise of friendship or the commitment of a family, why in a moment we can come up with a fabulous idea and ten reasons why it can’t be done? It is a common story, the visionary enters our life and we turn our back, consciously or without understanding, and choose instead to believe in what we know. The visionary could be that still small voice within our head. It might be the guru or teacher. It may come as the voice of a child, of one unschooled in what can or can’t be done.

Whether the seed is planted by someone else or ourselves, it takes but a whisper to move us from unlimited possibility into the narrow opening of an approaching dead end. A few mislaid words, sometimes even an unexpected look, and the potential slips away or at the least is shrouded in doubt, hidden beneath timid hesitation.

Why are we so quick to believe in the small solution, the idea or thought that reinforces rigidity rather than one that catches our breath and animates our imagination? We search for answers to feel good about ourselves, so that we can know our legitimate nature, and yet we routinely, as if we were robots, prove to ourselves over and over again that we aren’t worth that much. Rather than denying the visionary wouldn’t it ring of wisdom to deny the whisper?

What is doubt anyway but the stepchild of our own knowing? If we were wide open in childish awe of the unfolding mystery, if we believed in miracles and the goodness of life, if we were devoted beginners refusing to know and taint our ability to learn, if we held all God’s possibilities within the palm of our hand, if we didn’t know how life should be, what would there be to doubt? Doubt is a knowing, a comparison, a belief in limitation, a seed of ‘no’ in a universe that merely wants our yes.

What is required to step into the adventure and quit seeing life as a challenge, a problem to be solved? What would it mean to step blindly onto the rollercoaster with full trust of the outcome, not caring whether the coaster was slowly climbing the grade or preparing to fly through the curves? Have doubt and worry ever been grand allies? Has a tight-fisted hold on the moment ever kept it from passing into history? Perhaps there is much more to gain in risking the step than there ever was to lose. Doubt if you will, but keep moving until you leave both doubt and certainty behind. Mind sees the possibility of loss where heart sees only possibility.

Doubts and mistrust are the mere panic of timid imagination, which the steadfast heart will conquer, and the large mind transcend. Helen Keller

Would love to hear your reactions, thoughts or ideas! Please click the comment link below and share your viewpoint!

The Prodigal Child Returns

I would rather be hated for who I am, than loved for who I am not. Kurt Cobain

We tread upon a path, learning to connect more deeply with Divine presence, humanity, family members or whatever siren sings our name in this moment, feeling as if we are trying to get somewhere. We know we are on our way. The suffering and associated pain of change and transition are evidence. Even though at some level we know we stand amidst an unstoppable course, for no matter how hard we try, the shifting sands claim our dreams and alter our passions, we aren’t quite sure where we are going, where this force is taking us. Some christen that passageway the spiritual path. It might be more accurate to identify it simply as life, useful and of full purpose. The name is irrelevant. What is important is the connection we seek, what allows it to flow freely and what stops up the flow, short-circuiting the sought after reunion.

Connection is our natural state, the state we are when we drop our stories. The idea of letting who we really are out of hiding and into the open is a scary proposition. We have spent our lives constructing walls, readjusting the barriers whenever a breach seemed imminent, making certain that we were loved for who we were not. These walls were intended to hold back the biting comments, the sense of being unwanted, the fear that if we stepped out and into risk we would find ourselves more alone than when standing within our secure prisons.

As a child I craved to be a part of the group and yet, always felt as if I was on the outside looking in. I can still hear the words I used to escape into, “Just wait! When I grow up I will be so amazing that everyone will have to love me”. Those words made life bearable then. Contrary to the fairy tales we hope for as children, that feeling didn’t leave when I became an adult, no matter how successful, no matter how much money I deposited in the bank, or how many exotic trips I took. It didn’t even leave when I was blessed and found true love later in life. If it didn’t leave then, would it ever? The walls of my childhood reality shadowed my adulthood.

At some point, I realized that the moment I awaited was never going to happen. Some would say that I was just a pessimist. I prefer to think I fell face-forward into grace, for that was a brilliant day. Sometimes we have to hit bottom to begin ascending the spiral path towards Home. I knew Home existed. If I could envision it, feel it, and imagine its possibility, blind hope said it had to exist. Otherwise the ideal of Home could have never entered into awareness. I was willing to risk the possibility of being wrong, of the truth being a worse reality than the reformatory I had created. The pain of hanging onto my prison walls didn’t come close to matching the pain of never finding Home. In that moment I set out upon the path in earnest search of something yet unknown to mind.

The more I learned the more I realized that mind, while great at repetitive tasks, wasn’t quite suited for leaps into the unknown. No matter how motivated, it couldn’t take me to what it didn’t already know. Its realm was the jurisdiction of historical thoughts, emotions and events from which it shaped and twisted its endless stories. Mind’s logic had trapped me inside myself and made me believe I could connect deeply with others, with my family and with the Divine, while hiding the truth of me inside a closet of self-loathing, for what else is refusal to be fully seen other than a distaste for this personal uniqueness of God.

The known inadequate, the unknown called. All things I had tried, failed to connect me in the meaningful way my heart desired. A deep hunger for Truth, whatever shape or flavor, had replaced my need to self-protect. I had reached the divine nexus and preferred to be hated for who I am rather than to sacrifice any shred of truth, sensing that any and all denial of ‘what is’ stops the flow of grace required for entry into the unknown. With that choosing new steps along the path began to unfold.

The heart is our entry into the promise of the mystical, the magical, the unfamiliar—the great unknown. It holds the promise that mind claims and cannot deliver. Listening to our heart is how we further the transition from trusting our brain to living in Truth. In this process we begin to trust the spiral path Home, spiraling in each pure decision upward, homeward to where we know we belong, where we find certainty that we are not alone, where we know deep inside that all our previous desires and wants were merely warm up for heart’s true request.

When one begins to look in earnest, it becomes pretty obvious rather quickly that protecting this individual is painful work, and yet we continue, at least until we tire of wanting to be loved for who we are not, either because the truth of our folly becomes so clear we can no longer deny it, or because our resistance is so painful we are willing to try anything, surrender included, to get beyond the pain. Each person we deny, our self included, each time we turn away from the truth of this moment, we hammer a nail into the coffin of separation—rather a harsh analogy, but nonetheless accurate. We create separation in our aversion to sitting and taking all that life dishes out. Separation, death and suffering are mind’s game.

Heart doesn’t partake. Heart sits and smiles at our childish diversion, patiently awaiting us to tire of the game and return Home, to step upon the spiral path of Truth, of readiness to be with whatever is, regardless of how painful and just walk. Our willingness to step from the known into the unknown is step upon the path and feels like a giant leap of faith, paradoxically alien to mind. The more pronounced our step, the bigger our YES, the more often we return to live within this moment, the closer we get to opening the door and stepping back inside—the prodigal child returned!

As long as you are pointed in the right direction, all you have to do is keep on walking. Buddhist proverb

 

I welcome your comments and thoughts on this article. Please share by clicking on the comments link below. Namaste!

What would Jesus think now?

Courage is of no value unless accompanied by justice; yet if all men became just, there would be no need for courage. Aegsilaus the Second

Over the Christmas holidays the History Channel played many segments on Jesus—his birth, the lost years, his teachings. One piece in particular ended with a thought provoking statement about Jesus’ political message, a message with which many Bible scholars have resonated. Jesus grew up and taught in a time of great upheaval, a time when the Palestinians were being severely prosecuted by the Romans. There were immense divides between the rich and the poor. While his teachings always kept an eye on relationship with the Father, they were also firmly planted in the day-to-day lives of the people with whom he spoke. What caught my attention at the end of the hour was the statement that Jesus wanted to bring attention to the plight of the poor, the homeless, the sick, and to see his society evolve to the point where it would not stand for the abuse of any of God’s children. As I listened, the words, “what would Jesus think now”, rang in my ears. Would he be pleased with the way society had evolved?

Have you ever wondered why sometimes it’s easier to respond to an event that has just happened rather than to ongoing problems like homelessness, poverty, and illness? Why is it that we can act more easily for the event rather than for the state of life? The event feels as if there is end in sight; the other—life as it is—can feel hopeless. The energy of each is different as well. One energizes as we see the tangible results take shape. The other, life, can tend to sap our strength and commitment when we look down the long road and see little light.

If we are helping, if we are in service it shouldn’t matter, should it? Both can enliven us and make us feel connected, on fire with the truth of giving, but only when we approach each with True Love—the love of non-attachment, the love of being fully used, bringing our acceptance of the conditions with us.

This is where we get into trouble. It is our picture of a world gone wrong that gets in our way. It is our version of how life should be, of how we should be for our neighbors that prevents us from acting in ways to cure the ills that torment society. Our mind’s picture of what should be, no matter how Holy, creates a resistance in us that saps our commitment and strength, causing us to turn our backs on those in need, causing us to again create the world Jesus sought to remedy.

When there is an event—the more horrible the more applicable—our minds are stunned into silence and we act from our hearts, the only mover we have left. The mind no longer is in control that is, until it regroups and assumes control again. It is the mind’s overwhelm that takes our focus off Katrina, that prevents us from stepping up in fully reparative ways, to help those in poverty, illness, prison and neglect.

It is the mind’s overwhelm that prevents us from stepping into the streets to remind our government that this way of doing business, this command and control way of asserting our influence isn’t working, in fact, has never worked. Most importantly, to remind those we have elected to govern of their hearts, their desire to do good, their will to create a better world and the will of us all.

Our mind’s story about our future ineffectiveness prevents us from linking out hands and hearts and marching cooperatively to stop mind’s madness. Isn’t it time we took the short journey…a journey of mere inches…and began listening instead to our hearts. The journey involves a short leap of faith. All that is required is our willingness to shift our focus from our heads and step instead into Heart, a journey of a mere 12 inches.

For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a Stranger and you Welcomed me,I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me. Truly, I say to you, As you did it to one of the least of these, my brethren, you did it to me. Matthew 25

Lessons from the little children

There’s nothing sadder in this world than to awake Christmas morning and not be a child. ~ Erma Bombeck

Erma Bombeck’s words depict two possible scenarios. One paints a picture of carefully worded letters to Santa, children breathlessly waiting for the sound of tiny hooves on the roof, shiny wrapping paper and bows tossed all about to the tune of seemingly endless shrieks of joy—the sounds of Christmas morning in a home blessed with small children and full of love!

He said to them, “let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of god belongs to such as these.” Mark 10:14

The second possibility held within and perhaps unmeant, in Erma’s last few words is quite different. It brings with it a childhood joy and innocence not reliant on age or physical stature. This joy relies on a message boldly obvious, when one looks, an answer inherent in the question. Is it possible for us, as grown-up children, to wake on Christmas morning, to stretch and awaken each morning, and be a child to whom the kingdom belongs? And if we could, what would that look like? Better yet, what would that feel like?

Looking at a child’s face on Christmas morning might provide a clue. Look closely and you will find the innocence of unabashed engagement of life—no holding back, no waiting for an invitation, no worry about yesterday or tomorrow—just this moment fully entered into. The really young ones, the little ones untainted by growing older and more wary, clap their hands in glee at the least provocation—a fun box in which to hide, a glossy bow dangling from their small head and tickling their ear, your smile, your tear when you open that special gift they so carefully wrapped for you. These little angels sit in awe and inspiration, the breath of God flowing freely through them, pure of judgment, fear, want, desire, and most importantly, the strong sense of ‘me’ those emotions of separation evoke. These little ones sit in love. They sit within the kingdom of God. It is the reason we look into a baby’s eyes and fall into love ourselves. Their innocence is our portal.

“I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.” Mark 10:14-16

Christmas—Joy—Love! How do we adults birth Christmas joy within? If Christ were standing next to you, what do you think He would say? Would he tell you to stand back and wait? Would he tell you to protect and defend yourself or would he ask you to care for the least of us as you care for yourself—or perhaps, even better? What would He say? Would He tell you to lay down your judgments of all others so that you could at last find the kingdom of heaven? Would He tell you to die to all your silly beliefs of separation and live in Love? Would He take your hand and sit you down, look into your eyes and let you look into His? If He did, what would you allow yourself to see? Take a moment and be with that question and see what insights appear. It is the gift of Christmas.

This is the message of Christmas: We are never alone. ~ Taylor Caldwell

Lessons from the Men at the Oregon State Correctional Institution

A human being is part of a whole, called by us the Universe, a part limited in time and space. He experiences himself, his thoughts and feelings, as something separated from the rest, a kind of optical delusion of his consciousness. This delusion is a kind of prison for us, restricting us to our personal desires and to affection for a few persons nearest us. Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison by widening our circles of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty. Albert Einstein

Recently I somewhat reluctantly gave into a voice I had been hearing for several months. The first time I heard the voice, I thought I had misunderstood. I had heard, “Prison…go and do this work at the men’s prison.” Certainly, mind was playing its game. I watched the thought, expecting it to come and go. It was a persistent, nagging thought so I offered token acceptance to the Universe. You pave the way and I will go. I didn’t expect heaven and earth to move quite so quickly but as I learned, when something is intended, our ‘Yes’, even when given with half-hearted acquiescence, sets this physical plane into motion. Just a few days later, without a shred of effort, a door opened and the pieces began to fall into place.

As my date at the prison approached I had just a little anxiety. What would it be like? What would they be like? I was concerned about connecting with the men and a thought flashed through my mind that my life hadn’t prepared me to connect with men in prison. What did I have to say that would make any difference to them? Even as I questioned my usefulness, I knew I wouldn’t have been led here if there wasn’t a reason, so I slipped rather effortlessly into surrender.

When I walked in the door, I didn’t have any anxiety, just a desire to bring something of value to the men. Originally, I was supposed to join Blaze, the gentleman who started the prison program, for my first session. A few days earlier I had found out he would not be in attendance and I was on my own. The door slammed behind me as I entered into the population and I felt a dense energy that for a moment was a bit unsettling. For that second, I wished I had company, someone who had walked this path before. The guard escorted me to the chaplain’s office and after we completed a few details, the chaplain walked me down the hall to academics where I would meet with the men. He needed to chaperone the Native American drumming circle so he left me in the room and I waited for the first of the men to appear.

Blaze had told me that the men had big hearts and an amazing openness to Oneness. They were captive, with no where to go. I wondered if surrender to God is easier when you have already surrendered your life’s dream. The words flowed through me. I was merely the channel—like heaven’s radio station. The teachings encompassed both beginner and advanced material. I had never felt it come through me in quite that way. One moment I would be talking about basic concepts and in the next moment, quite advanced teaching would come through. As I engaged with the men, it seemed to be perfect for that moment.

We talked about Oneness and whether they were really a part of this Oneness. They were so honest. Yes, they had heard about Oneness. Yes, they intellectually got it. Yes, they hoped it was true, but, it was not a true knowing. With their permission I did a little energy work with each man and held my hands a few inches in front of their heart chakras and in back of the chair at heart level. After a few moments I was led to hold my hands above their Crown chakras. To a man, albeit to varying degrees, they each felt the energy. One in particular, a tall Irish man, asked if I had my hands on his head. My hands were 4 inches above his head. That observation gave us lots to talk about. If I end at my fingertips and you at the top of your head, how can you feel this energy? Is it possible that we really are One?

Blaze was right. They were so amazingly open. Their hearts were somewhat hidden, but willing…wanting. They could have been any group of men. They could have been friends, brothers, husbands, sons…sitting around the table at the holidays. Not one would have looked out of place.

Sounds like enough of a tale…but for me, only the beginning. As I drove home, I began to realize a new appreciation for freedom and in the same breath, I was also given a new appreciation for incarceration. Each thing I did for the balance of the next two days took on a beauty of appreciation and gratitude that was exceedingly deep—things as simple as opening the door to my car, my house, being able to close the door to the bathroom, being surrounded by flowers in my gardens, or my dog laying her head in my lap. As I write about this now, I feel my heart cracking open again, even more fully, yet another level of love revealed. After the visit I felt unable to get my balance, unable to integrate the time at the prison, like I was standing on the groundless, untethered to earth. I felt myself becoming each person who had ever been locked inside a prison…then each soul embroiled in war or hopelessly lost in poverty. The brightness of compassion was my saving grace. It could have been a deep hole, a desperation created by mind, as I also felt a small daemon—separateness—clinging to me, something that I hadn’t felt for quite a while. That evening in meditation, in an effort to befriend it, there was awareness of the crusader within, wanting to change the world, a part of the whole that had stepped out of Now and into should, into past and future. It took several days to integrate all the energy and information but slowly, with the help of friends, a context of five levels of imprisonment took form.

As I write, two additional levels became clear:

Unaware of mental and emotional imprisonment but physically free

Aware of mental and emotional imprisonment but physically free

Unaware of mental and emotional imprisonment but incarcerated

Aware of mental and emotional imprisonment and incarcerated

Aware of mental and emotional imprisonment and consciously incarcerated, choosing to sit under the Bodhi tree or retreat to a cave in commitment to spiritual freedom

Free mentally and emotionally but incarcerated

Free mentally and emotionally and physically, not imprisoned or incarcerated

Looking at the list, I know where I sit. I sit under the Bodhi tree with the Buddha. I walk beside Jesus in the desert for 40 days and 40 nights. These articles are my incarceration, locked in step with the process of attaining freedom. I do not sit within a physical cave, but I clearly see the cave of mind, and shall remain dug in ‘til the last daemon is fully returned to the Whole. These words are evidence of commitment to freedom, of dedication to making the last thoughts and beliefs so transparent as to remove their ability to hide. In awe of the power of forgiveness, willing to release all I have created in my ignorance against This that pervades all, I stand naked before God with nothing but Love.

Physical freedom is merely another proving ground without spiritual freedom. It doesn’t matter where we find ourselves when we are imprisoned, when we see ourselves as separate from God. What does matter is what we do with our knowledge of imprisonment. What matters is that we begin walking towards freedom. Start walking and God’s pull will turn even the smallest steps into winged flight.

As long as you are pointed in the right direction, all you have to do is keep on walking. Buddhist Proverb

Are you free or do your thoughts imprison you? What are you doing to get free? Let’s start a dialog and keep it going until we all believe that freedom is not only possible, it is our birthright! Would love to hear your comments and thoughts.