I’ve written various times about my love/hate relationship with technology, the Internet and how fast we either connect or disconnect with one another and ourselves. One day, while watching the news and hearing of another immense tragedy of people being bombarded by nature and buried under the rubble we build around us, I was hit by the wonder of worry. I immediately worried for them and wondered for myself: there by the Grace of God go I.
My next thought surprised me. With all our current technology and our ability to instantaneously communicate….could or would any of those under the rubble send out their last living words…their last dying words by Tweeting us? IM-ing us? Facebooking us? We have examples of these last minute words from 9/11 and Columbine via cell phones, but now we can conect with one another world-wide and word-wide in the instant of a moment – even if it is our last. It stopped me in my tracks and made me wonder at how powerfully we can unite in tragedy or joy – instantly, intimately and universally.
It made me wonder what the first and last thing will be that comes to our minds and out of our mouths when we reach that very last moment. I think about the spiritual practices to “pray without ceasing”, to “think only of the Divine in every moment”, so that in our last moment the Divine will present itself as we pass. They say Gandhi’s last word was “Ram” – one of the many names of God. They also say that for the greater majority of us our last word is “Shit!” I wonder what mine will be and hope it might happily be somewhere in between!
Today I read the following in Ode magazine:
“In the Zen Buddhist tradition, teachers save their pithy instructions for their last breath in this life. As they are dying, with their final exhalations, they utter the culmination of their understanding. One teacher’s last example was to say “thank you very much, I have no complaints”.
Buddha said “Transient are all conditioned things. Strive on with diligence”.
"However painful this moment is, it will pass. We don’t run the world, but what each of us does -- makes a difference. After a while, even if things are not better, we get over the shock".
These teachings and examples all seem so wonderful and ease-filled. But I still wonder as I wander through life and death experiences, if these concepts will bring me to that just-right-place in my next moment of crisis? This past year, I've been amazed at the litany of life tragedies all around me. I had dinner last night with a friend who is in the middle of chemo treatments for ovarian cancer. My brother just called to say he has a cardiac tumor. My father-in-law discovered he has Parkinson’s and is literally falling down all around me. My sister deals with colon cancer. My Aunt is going blind. My partner, myself and my friends have all lost our jobs and a gamut of things that once felt like ......security. Lately, I’ve noticed a difference in my blood pressure numbers and can only think “ah jeez….what’s next?”
I wonder, if I found out I had cancer, how would i react? Would I be as brave as those I witness --- or would I fall off the deep end? How often I’ve contemplated with fear “what could happen if this --- if that”? Then I read things in books and magazines about a wisdom that comes at that just-right-moment, helping us enter that just-right-place.
Those books say things like:
“If not for this, then that” – Everything is contingent on other things. I was not killed by the falling branch because it happened while I was at the store and not in the two seconds that I was underneath it. My friend lost all her funds because the Exchange and Securities oversight was flawed and because we live in a culture in which we use money to make more money. Everything is contingent -- removes blame from everyone. It is not any one person’s fault. It just is what it is."
Reading these things helped me remember the experience of seeing how my fear and worry of “what if”…fell to the way side one day when I found someone passed out on the bathroom floor at work. I remember how everything slowed down, was calm, silent and easy. I had entered the world of knowing in the midst of unknowing and it was -- peaceful. Who knew emergency could actually be peaceful? I know I didn't – hence my daily passages of time spent in worry.
I learned that in the middle of crisis, we are brought to an edge; a place “in between” each moment, that carries a power that can be found no where else - but that moment! Crisis can bring clarity that allows us to see what is immerging in the moment of “emergency”. (Emergent / See?). Something rises up in us. Something that is always there – waiting for us to notice it and invoke it. When we need that part of us that is at the Center of all that sleeps in us, and when it is given the chance --- it awakens in each of us. It presents us with rest, guidance and wisdom.
I can only hope that when I see or hear any next crisis, be it mine or others, that the first thing I think and the last thing I say will be blessed by this emergent and waking wisdom.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Sunday, September 11, 2011
9/11 Ten years later: The Power of Silence and Seeing
We do not know what will present itself in any next moment. On Sept 11th 10:45 am 2001, we did not know what 10:46 am would bring. I wonder how many of us consider what we might have learned from that one minute tick to the next – that now brings us to that same digital moment in time – 10 years later.
I found myself wondering if I would attend the momentous events planned around the city to bring so many together, focused, and sharing the same powerful experience. I am drawn to events when I sense entire cities, countries, nations and peoples, all “gathered” in the moment. The Quaker term “to gather” (in silence) is used to describe the potential for all who are present to share in a connection with that which is beyond. For these moments, it is said, all are "gathered" and "covered" with a presence of this spirit.
Interestingly enough, I chose not to “gather” with these sacred groups ten years at the exact minute-moment later. I planned nothing for the day, but to do my weekly discipline of spending one day each week in a coffee shop, writing, and allowing whatever would unfold, to do its magic. On my way to the coffee shop, I turned on National Public Radio. It just happened to be exactly 10:45am. At Ground Zero, they marked the moment in Silence. At 10:47am President Barack Obama broke the Silence by reading Psalm 49 which contains my favorite quote "Be still and know that I am God".
Sitting in the coffee shop, I opened the Sunday paper and began to read the gamut of experiences expressed about the time between that day’s moment and today's 10 year old moment. I found myself avoiding the articles of “them vs. us” and found myself drawn more to those like Kathleen Parker of the Washington Post who said “A nation cannot heal itself without self-awareness. On this score we have fallen short. We seem not to want to recognize that we don’t have a problem; we ARE the problem”. It reminded me of the Easter Lenten season, one year before 9/11/2001. For Lent, many Christians give up something. Not being of any one religion, but enjoying the beauty in all, I decided instead of giving-up…I would try giving-in. I “gave-in” by trying the practice of smiling more at others. I did it for one year. It was an amazing year. I noticed how much we do not look at one another, we do not see one another, and heaven forbid, we should ever look into one another’s eyes. Sometimes, when I would smile at someone….this pain-filled pattern would shift. You could tell, we both knew something different was happening. Something out of our ordinary.
As lessons go… I didn’t recognize the meaning of this practice until one year later – Sept 11, 2001. After 24 hours of watching the unbelievable become believable on TV, I had to break myself away from the event and wander out. I found myself at the grocery store when the one year old Lenten lesson’s message started to unfold. People, joined in this moment, began to look at one another. I melted into what it took for us to look in, look up and look at one another. Now, ten years later, there is a power in the moment, to gather with one another in Silence and Seeing. To look at one another, look with one another, no matter who we are or what we are. To continue to ask “What have we learned? What are we learning? – And are we doing it together or apart in the power of any one given minute and moment.
I found myself wondering if I would attend the momentous events planned around the city to bring so many together, focused, and sharing the same powerful experience. I am drawn to events when I sense entire cities, countries, nations and peoples, all “gathered” in the moment. The Quaker term “to gather” (in silence) is used to describe the potential for all who are present to share in a connection with that which is beyond. For these moments, it is said, all are "gathered" and "covered" with a presence of this spirit.
Interestingly enough, I chose not to “gather” with these sacred groups ten years at the exact minute-moment later. I planned nothing for the day, but to do my weekly discipline of spending one day each week in a coffee shop, writing, and allowing whatever would unfold, to do its magic. On my way to the coffee shop, I turned on National Public Radio. It just happened to be exactly 10:45am. At Ground Zero, they marked the moment in Silence. At 10:47am President Barack Obama broke the Silence by reading Psalm 49 which contains my favorite quote "Be still and know that I am God".
Sitting in the coffee shop, I opened the Sunday paper and began to read the gamut of experiences expressed about the time between that day’s moment and today's 10 year old moment. I found myself avoiding the articles of “them vs. us” and found myself drawn more to those like Kathleen Parker of the Washington Post who said “A nation cannot heal itself without self-awareness. On this score we have fallen short. We seem not to want to recognize that we don’t have a problem; we ARE the problem”. It reminded me of the Easter Lenten season, one year before 9/11/2001. For Lent, many Christians give up something. Not being of any one religion, but enjoying the beauty in all, I decided instead of giving-up…I would try giving-in. I “gave-in” by trying the practice of smiling more at others. I did it for one year. It was an amazing year. I noticed how much we do not look at one another, we do not see one another, and heaven forbid, we should ever look into one another’s eyes. Sometimes, when I would smile at someone….this pain-filled pattern would shift. You could tell, we both knew something different was happening. Something out of our ordinary.
As lessons go… I didn’t recognize the meaning of this practice until one year later – Sept 11, 2001. After 24 hours of watching the unbelievable become believable on TV, I had to break myself away from the event and wander out. I found myself at the grocery store when the one year old Lenten lesson’s message started to unfold. People, joined in this moment, began to look at one another. I melted into what it took for us to look in, look up and look at one another. Now, ten years later, there is a power in the moment, to gather with one another in Silence and Seeing. To look at one another, look with one another, no matter who we are or what we are. To continue to ask “What have we learned? What are we learning? – And are we doing it together or apart in the power of any one given minute and moment.
One Word Leads to Another: How to tell if you are in the present moment
A discipline I like to follow is attempting to truly be in the present moment. I have examples of times I know I am totally NOT in the present moment and times I recognized I do find myself in that sweet-spot moment that only the present can possess. Just as one story leads to another, one word leads to another, hopefully one non-present moment helps lead me to the next present moment. First the non-present moment story I call “present moment, pancake moment”.
I was at Perkins one lovely Sunday morning sharing a pancake and eggs meal with my partner. We were engaged it what we term “breakfast blather”; a menagerie of minutia tainted with tid-bits of playful thoughts leading one to the other almost endlessly. This particular morning, I found my blather rather bitchfull….going on and on blah blah blah … complaining about some tedious frustration. I don’t know about you, but I find that many people like their breakfast food “just so”. It’s easy to be picky about eggs. Being quite picking myself about the order of each morsel – pancakes to be eaten before the eggs, the syrup poured after cutting the pancake etc…I began my meal in the midst of my breathless bitching blather. In mid-sentence I raised my voice in exasperation and profusely professed “the waitress FORGOT to bring my pancakes!” Thankfully my body’s autonomic system dutifully remembered to take a breath! In that breath filled moment, my brain woke up, broke from its pattern of thought deluged mess and recognized my mouth was in mid-chew of a whole grain pancake, properly pre-cut and soaked with syrup! My partner and I spent the next split second roaring with laughter and noted the moment’s extreme example of NOT being in the present moment. Such was born the term “present moment, pancake moment.” We elicit this term out loud some times, to re-mindfully remark whether we are (or are not) in the precious present.
One day lead to the next, one breakfast to the next, and one present moment lead to the next. Sitting on the front porch one Fall morning, eating muffins and coffee, my partner and I started wondering about the origin of the saying “dead as a doornail”. We grabbed our version of the QPB Encyclopedia Of Word and Phrase Origins book to see what the story was. Well, one word lead to another and we found ourselves looking up the origins of sexual slang, starting dutifully with the origin of the word F*ck. Apparently it is of German origin for ”ficken/f*cken” - meaning to “strike or penetrate”. We moved on to “cu*t”, then “pap smear” leading us rightfully to “pervert”. Being a sex educator, I found myself easily moving onto all the words kids ask us about and could hardly wait to share these tidbits of word-origin-knowledge with my co-educators. We found it interesting that there was no reference to “pus*y”, but plenty of reference points for “bon*r” whether it was to have one, or pull one. Of course we judgmentally attached some sort of patriarchal purpose to this pattern, but fell all over that theory and ourselves, when we recognized there were no references for “ja*k off” or “ejacu*ate”.
As we laughed and cackled, we heard a familiar chirping sound draw our attention to all that surrounded us. Nature so kindly shared and comically marked the moment for us as we glanced at a humming bird feeding 4 feet from our conversation. Not only had the humming bird joined in, but also a very hungry bumble bee. We shrieked with glee at the way nature communicates with us, creating a word-image-choice noting that we were all having fun with “the birds and the bees”. Instantly we were able to feel we had truly entered the present moment. One cannot help but miss what is both obvious and not-so-obvious at the same time. There is a palpable feel to the power of the present. Today it most graciously played itself out through our bodies, as it removed that façade of day-to-day control, having us do nothing other than laugh. We could sense how one word lead us to another, one moment to another, helping us discover we had “hit the nail on the head” and entered that just-right place of the one and only --- present moment. End note: I figured I should use the asterisks for those “special” words, as I could only imagine how many hits my blog might get on some slightly popular Google searches and I wasn’t sure I wanted to invite too much scrutiny. The photo enclosed – was an attempt to capture the scene that played out before us. If you look closely you can see both the bird….AND…the bee feeding together!
I was at Perkins one lovely Sunday morning sharing a pancake and eggs meal with my partner. We were engaged it what we term “breakfast blather”; a menagerie of minutia tainted with tid-bits of playful thoughts leading one to the other almost endlessly. This particular morning, I found my blather rather bitchfull….going on and on blah blah blah … complaining about some tedious frustration. I don’t know about you, but I find that many people like their breakfast food “just so”. It’s easy to be picky about eggs. Being quite picking myself about the order of each morsel – pancakes to be eaten before the eggs, the syrup poured after cutting the pancake etc…I began my meal in the midst of my breathless bitching blather. In mid-sentence I raised my voice in exasperation and profusely professed “the waitress FORGOT to bring my pancakes!” Thankfully my body’s autonomic system dutifully remembered to take a breath! In that breath filled moment, my brain woke up, broke from its pattern of thought deluged mess and recognized my mouth was in mid-chew of a whole grain pancake, properly pre-cut and soaked with syrup! My partner and I spent the next split second roaring with laughter and noted the moment’s extreme example of NOT being in the present moment. Such was born the term “present moment, pancake moment.” We elicit this term out loud some times, to re-mindfully remark whether we are (or are not) in the precious present.
One day lead to the next, one breakfast to the next, and one present moment lead to the next. Sitting on the front porch one Fall morning, eating muffins and coffee, my partner and I started wondering about the origin of the saying “dead as a doornail”. We grabbed our version of the QPB Encyclopedia Of Word and Phrase Origins book to see what the story was. Well, one word lead to another and we found ourselves looking up the origins of sexual slang, starting dutifully with the origin of the word F*ck. Apparently it is of German origin for ”ficken/f*cken” - meaning to “strike or penetrate”. We moved on to “cu*t”, then “pap smear” leading us rightfully to “pervert”. Being a sex educator, I found myself easily moving onto all the words kids ask us about and could hardly wait to share these tidbits of word-origin-knowledge with my co-educators. We found it interesting that there was no reference to “pus*y”, but plenty of reference points for “bon*r” whether it was to have one, or pull one. Of course we judgmentally attached some sort of patriarchal purpose to this pattern, but fell all over that theory and ourselves, when we recognized there were no references for “ja*k off” or “ejacu*ate”.
As we laughed and cackled, we heard a familiar chirping sound draw our attention to all that surrounded us. Nature so kindly shared and comically marked the moment for us as we glanced at a humming bird feeding 4 feet from our conversation. Not only had the humming bird joined in, but also a very hungry bumble bee. We shrieked with glee at the way nature communicates with us, creating a word-image-choice noting that we were all having fun with “the birds and the bees”. Instantly we were able to feel we had truly entered the present moment. One cannot help but miss what is both obvious and not-so-obvious at the same time. There is a palpable feel to the power of the present. Today it most graciously played itself out through our bodies, as it removed that façade of day-to-day control, having us do nothing other than laugh. We could sense how one word lead us to another, one moment to another, helping us discover we had “hit the nail on the head” and entered that just-right place of the one and only --- present moment. End note: I figured I should use the asterisks for those “special” words, as I could only imagine how many hits my blog might get on some slightly popular Google searches and I wasn’t sure I wanted to invite too much scrutiny. The photo enclosed – was an attempt to capture the scene that played out before us. If you look closely you can see both the bird….AND…the bee feeding together!
The Power of Words: Abracadabra, incantations and other assorted word choices
I am reminded of the power of words on a daily basis. I am a teacher, an in-home health aide and a performance artist. As a performer you are taught to “know your audience”, as a teacher you are taught to watch how others learn, and as an in-home aide you are taught to listen to your client. No matter what role I am playing, as I attempt to connect with others, I find myself considering how each word I choose helps or hinders the chances of connection. Telling you the story of my pen-name “Sufi-socks” is an example of the powerful play of word choices.
In the messy menagerie of middle school, I found myself living in a dirt-road neighborhood at the foot of a dry and dusty southern California hillside. I became fast friends with Rachel, the Mexican girl next door, whose mother was an eccentric, free-flowing artist we called Mago-Mom. There wasn’t a day went by that we wouldn’t see her fly down the dirt road, heading to her art studio, dressed in a miss-mosh of material and wild abandon of color – none of which met any standard of matching that most people expect in one another’s choice of attire.
We loved being in Mago-Mom's studio as she painted her impression of construction machines that moved on her canvas and seemed almost alive. Rachel and I would dress up and pretend to be manikins in the window, watching to see how people would react as they walked by. In all this magical playfulness we discovered, like many kids do, the energy of wearing mismatched socks. For some unknown yet magically known reason, we called them 'sufi-socks'. There was an invisible sense of the word’s perfection and, as children naturally do, we left it at that.
As an adult, being interested in all that is Divine, I came across the real word –Sufi- while reading about various religions. I learned of ancient peoples who live their lives in observance and obedience to Love and the Divine Beloved. I learned that Sufi artists “tune” three times in preparation for their performance. They first tune themselves, then their instrument and then the audience. I was amazed at how we chose this word as children, having no idea it was a Real word. On some invisible level, our imaginations recognized the word’s energy-sound. Sometimes I wonder if we chose the word, or if the word chose us.
During my adult journey of inner discovery, (somewhere near age 35) I began to mismatch my socks. When wearing them, I could once again sense the perfection of play-full-ness in the energy ignited by their silly yet completely assuring comfort. I was amazed at the number of adults I met, who also enjoyed wearing mismatched socks. I began paying attention to how we use or misuse words and the power they carry that effects everything and everyone. It was also at this age and stage that I became a professional clown. While developing skills on how to enter the fantasy world of children, I stumbled across the origin of the word "Abracadabra". Some believe it is an ancient spell in Aramaic, meaning “let the thing be destroyed"- the “thing” being an illness. Another Hebrew/Aramaic concept is avra k’davra, which means “I will create as I speak”. Once again, I found myself in the creative world of words, their magical energy and their power to create or destroy. Then, one mundane yet magical day, all of this word-play came together for me.
I was going through a difficult time, feeling burdened and alone. I walked into the office one morning and was greeted by a lone co-worker who enjoyed coming in early to a silent, empty office. He would make coffee and have it waiting for the rest of us as we arrived, slowly, noisily and late. When I walked in he simply said “Good Morning!” There was something magical about his greeting. You could tell he meant it. There was a presence --- a specific “abracadabaric” sound that traveled between us. It was a palpable caring that was “created as he spoke” that “destroyed the illness in me.” I instantly knew - everything was going to be okay. To this day, I try to remember this experience and message in each moment I greet someone - in each choice of word I send out – knowing every word, and the intention behind it, has the power to create or destroy. FOOT-NOTE: This very day I wrote about sufi-socks, the magic and power of words. I synchronistically and oh so magically came across a child –AND- some random adult who happened to be wearing miss-matched-socks. I had to snap a cell phone photo to add to the canvas of this blog! En-joy!
In the messy menagerie of middle school, I found myself living in a dirt-road neighborhood at the foot of a dry and dusty southern California hillside. I became fast friends with Rachel, the Mexican girl next door, whose mother was an eccentric, free-flowing artist we called Mago-Mom. There wasn’t a day went by that we wouldn’t see her fly down the dirt road, heading to her art studio, dressed in a miss-mosh of material and wild abandon of color – none of which met any standard of matching that most people expect in one another’s choice of attire.
We loved being in Mago-Mom's studio as she painted her impression of construction machines that moved on her canvas and seemed almost alive. Rachel and I would dress up and pretend to be manikins in the window, watching to see how people would react as they walked by. In all this magical playfulness we discovered, like many kids do, the energy of wearing mismatched socks. For some unknown yet magically known reason, we called them 'sufi-socks'. There was an invisible sense of the word’s perfection and, as children naturally do, we left it at that.
As an adult, being interested in all that is Divine, I came across the real word –Sufi- while reading about various religions. I learned of ancient peoples who live their lives in observance and obedience to Love and the Divine Beloved. I learned that Sufi artists “tune” three times in preparation for their performance. They first tune themselves, then their instrument and then the audience. I was amazed at how we chose this word as children, having no idea it was a Real word. On some invisible level, our imaginations recognized the word’s energy-sound. Sometimes I wonder if we chose the word, or if the word chose us.
During my adult journey of inner discovery, (somewhere near age 35) I began to mismatch my socks. When wearing them, I could once again sense the perfection of play-full-ness in the energy ignited by their silly yet completely assuring comfort. I was amazed at the number of adults I met, who also enjoyed wearing mismatched socks. I began paying attention to how we use or misuse words and the power they carry that effects everything and everyone. It was also at this age and stage that I became a professional clown. While developing skills on how to enter the fantasy world of children, I stumbled across the origin of the word "Abracadabra". Some believe it is an ancient spell in Aramaic, meaning “let the thing be destroyed"- the “thing” being an illness. Another Hebrew/Aramaic concept is avra k’davra, which means “I will create as I speak”. Once again, I found myself in the creative world of words, their magical energy and their power to create or destroy. Then, one mundane yet magical day, all of this word-play came together for me.
I was going through a difficult time, feeling burdened and alone. I walked into the office one morning and was greeted by a lone co-worker who enjoyed coming in early to a silent, empty office. He would make coffee and have it waiting for the rest of us as we arrived, slowly, noisily and late. When I walked in he simply said “Good Morning!” There was something magical about his greeting. You could tell he meant it. There was a presence --- a specific “abracadabaric” sound that traveled between us. It was a palpable caring that was “created as he spoke” that “destroyed the illness in me.” I instantly knew - everything was going to be okay. To this day, I try to remember this experience and message in each moment I greet someone - in each choice of word I send out – knowing every word, and the intention behind it, has the power to create or destroy. FOOT-NOTE: This very day I wrote about sufi-socks, the magic and power of words. I synchronistically and oh so magically came across a child –AND- some random adult who happened to be wearing miss-matched-socks. I had to snap a cell phone photo to add to the canvas of this blog! En-joy!
Friday, August 12, 2011
Samurai Soul: Knowing that You Know!
"Worry, worry, worry!" -- ok what cartoon character comes to mind here? Is it Eeyore, Piglet, Pooh? I think it was Eeyore, as he was constantly worrying about "losing his tail". It could be any of these cartoon characters – but in reality it is mostly plain ole ME (and maybe you too?).
Buddhist’s call it Monkey Mind. Now that would be a good name for a new cartoon persona – yes? Almost daily a thought comes, reminding me “I’m in the unknown”,“I have no idea what to do","I don't know what's next”, or even what is NOW for that matter!
I found myself in this mind-space one day while working as an in-home health aide. I was informed I would need to start giving my client four different eye drops twice daily. That might not sound so bad….but considering my client was a germaphobe, fearful that people were trying to kill her, didn’t always remember who I was and was on all types of psychotropic meds which she generally refused to take….made it “very bad” to me!
Worry, worry, worry became my moment-to-moment mind mantra. My organized, fix-it-now pattern kicked in full-time. I decided to buy some over-the-counter eye drops and practice on someone. I picked the exact right person. That would be Frank, my guitar and cognac partner in playful, creative crime.I went over to his house one day to play by the side of the lake. As we sat on the deck with cognac and guitars, I began to share with him the story of my eye drop dilemma.He listened – quietly. I asked him if I could practice on him to help me get comfortable with the skill set.
He simply and clearly said “No”.
Discomfort came quickly to me.
He then shared with me that, coincidently, he was having to begin the same process with his 85 year old mother-in-law. He showed me the gamut of eye drop scripts he'd just received from the pharmacy. He also had never done this before.The next thing he said brought forward a wisdom that is always present. “You are an incredibly Knowing soul. When the moment comes, you will know exactly what to do. You always do - you always will”.
It was perfection – and we left it at that.
When the day came for the first eye drop duty…..I walked in, gently greeted myself internally, my client externally, opened the bottle and eased each drop four times into both eyes.
The original box of unopened practice-drops I took to Frank’s house sits prominently on my prayer table. I smile at the name on the box that faces me daily: "Clear Vision”. I love remembering this eye drop story and sharing it with friends when we discuss times we are worried and don’t know what to do.
During my last trip to India, I had a physical sense of the wisdom-knowing part of my soul. While meditating on worry, knowing and unknowing, my soul stood as a Samurai stands – strong, centered, clear and always Knowing ---- especially in the midst of unknowing.
I enjoy bringing that Samurai Soul image to mind whenever I find my Eeyore-like-self being afraid of losing my tail and I worry, worry, worry.
Buddhist’s call it Monkey Mind. Now that would be a good name for a new cartoon persona – yes? Almost daily a thought comes, reminding me “I’m in the unknown”,“I have no idea what to do","I don't know what's next”, or even what is NOW for that matter!
I found myself in this mind-space one day while working as an in-home health aide. I was informed I would need to start giving my client four different eye drops twice daily. That might not sound so bad….but considering my client was a germaphobe, fearful that people were trying to kill her, didn’t always remember who I was and was on all types of psychotropic meds which she generally refused to take….made it “very bad” to me!
Worry, worry, worry became my moment-to-moment mind mantra. My organized, fix-it-now pattern kicked in full-time. I decided to buy some over-the-counter eye drops and practice on someone. I picked the exact right person. That would be Frank, my guitar and cognac partner in playful, creative crime.I went over to his house one day to play by the side of the lake. As we sat on the deck with cognac and guitars, I began to share with him the story of my eye drop dilemma.He listened – quietly. I asked him if I could practice on him to help me get comfortable with the skill set.
He simply and clearly said “No”.
Discomfort came quickly to me.
He then shared with me that, coincidently, he was having to begin the same process with his 85 year old mother-in-law. He showed me the gamut of eye drop scripts he'd just received from the pharmacy. He also had never done this before.The next thing he said brought forward a wisdom that is always present. “You are an incredibly Knowing soul. When the moment comes, you will know exactly what to do. You always do - you always will”.
It was perfection – and we left it at that.
When the day came for the first eye drop duty…..I walked in, gently greeted myself internally, my client externally, opened the bottle and eased each drop four times into both eyes.
The original box of unopened practice-drops I took to Frank’s house sits prominently on my prayer table. I smile at the name on the box that faces me daily: "Clear Vision”. I love remembering this eye drop story and sharing it with friends when we discuss times we are worried and don’t know what to do.
During my last trip to India, I had a physical sense of the wisdom-knowing part of my soul. While meditating on worry, knowing and unknowing, my soul stood as a Samurai stands – strong, centered, clear and always Knowing ---- especially in the midst of unknowing.
I enjoy bringing that Samurai Soul image to mind whenever I find my Eeyore-like-self being afraid of losing my tail and I worry, worry, worry.
Friday, August 5, 2011
The Sound of Elders Praying
I was moved the other day by what I will call the “Sound of elders praying”.
It brought me immediately into a space of inner and outer calm. When I heard it, I recognized how I’ve heard this sound since childhood. It is subtle, low and drone-like. It can be found everywhere - when we listen to things like the buzz of a bee, the rattle of dried leaves, the summer heat saturated in the consistency of cicada song.
I heard it easily in India while sleeping, waking and napping to the oceanic monsoon wind outside my retreat room window. I felt it in the low vibration sensed in the sound of silence. It is easily audible when: in sitting, one just sits; in listening one just listens and in breathing, one just breathes. I re-recognized the sound one day as I helped care for a 96 year old woman.
I was walking to the laundry room when I heard a voice say “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you” in a just-under-the-breath mantra-like melody. I looked up to see a hunched elder woman walk with a tall husband-like man supporting her arm as they moved side by side. In each step-by-concentrated-step her movement and mantra blended in rhythmic measure.
There it was – the sound of elders praying! So familiar, so near, so soothing. I recalled the same murmured meter I heard as a child in the Byzantine church I attended,in of all places,downtown Gary, Indiana. Talk about calmness in the midst of chaos!
The church was a "cacophonic" chamber that echoed with a chorus of elder Slavic women’s voices praying the rosary in their native tongue. It came from deep inside them, rising subtly but surely with the frankincense that floated from the sanctuary. The ancient Slavic tones drew us inward to the place where we can hear divine messages:
“Be still and know that I am God”.
“To pray without ceasing”
…and…
“For those who have ears, let them hear.”
I am thankful to hear the sound of elders praying. I am grateful to have heard it in the woman walking by me. It helps me to remember in each step and in every moment to prayerfully say and hear “thank you, thank you, thank you”.
It brought me immediately into a space of inner and outer calm. When I heard it, I recognized how I’ve heard this sound since childhood. It is subtle, low and drone-like. It can be found everywhere - when we listen to things like the buzz of a bee, the rattle of dried leaves, the summer heat saturated in the consistency of cicada song.
I heard it easily in India while sleeping, waking and napping to the oceanic monsoon wind outside my retreat room window. I felt it in the low vibration sensed in the sound of silence. It is easily audible when: in sitting, one just sits; in listening one just listens and in breathing, one just breathes. I re-recognized the sound one day as I helped care for a 96 year old woman.
I was walking to the laundry room when I heard a voice say “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you” in a just-under-the-breath mantra-like melody. I looked up to see a hunched elder woman walk with a tall husband-like man supporting her arm as they moved side by side. In each step-by-concentrated-step her movement and mantra blended in rhythmic measure.
There it was – the sound of elders praying! So familiar, so near, so soothing. I recalled the same murmured meter I heard as a child in the Byzantine church I attended,in of all places,downtown Gary, Indiana. Talk about calmness in the midst of chaos!
The church was a "cacophonic" chamber that echoed with a chorus of elder Slavic women’s voices praying the rosary in their native tongue. It came from deep inside them, rising subtly but surely with the frankincense that floated from the sanctuary. The ancient Slavic tones drew us inward to the place where we can hear divine messages:
“Be still and know that I am God”.
“To pray without ceasing”
…and…
“For those who have ears, let them hear.”
I am thankful to hear the sound of elders praying. I am grateful to have heard it in the woman walking by me. It helps me to remember in each step and in every moment to prayerfully say and hear “thank you, thank you, thank you”.
Friday, February 25, 2011
The Internet: A love / hate relationship
The prate falls and pitfalls I experience when I fall down the rabbit-hole of the Internet make me laugh and cry. The sense of crying comes when I feel us being distracted by so much information…that we miss the moment – and one another.
The laughter comes when I see how funny we are with the tantalizing tidbits we post
on You Tube! (just Google kittens and puppies!). My favorite part of experiencing the joy in how alike we all are --- is when I start to type in a search request. Google starts to populate the text-box with searches the millions of other hitchhikers of this Google-galaxy have similarly requested.
It amazed me one day, thinking "oh I've got one no one could have tried yet", as I
speedily attacked my keyboard with "…Is the Restasis commercial doctor-woman real or digital?". I almost fell off my ergonomic computer chair when not only did the text box
similar-search thingy take off , but it generated page after page of people wondering not only the same thing --- but queried it in even more hilarious ways than I could imagine! Apparently, I am not alone at being weirded-out by this more than bizarre looking human. I swear she is some sort of robotic-artificial-intelligence. But the gamut of
data that resulted proved she is apparently not only human, but a real doctor, based on those who seem to be "in the know"! I smiled at feeling quite connected to potentially millions of us wondering the same silly things!
Another experience seemed to show me not only how similar we are, but how
far we have come. I was watching The Today Show, when we were first introduced to President Obama's awesomely forward thinking choice of Ms. Elena Kagan as the next
Supreme Court Justice candidate. I said out loud to myself "Alright! She's GOT to be a lesbian ---- wow, now THAT WOULD be amazingly forward thinking!!!!".
Again, I found myself almost falling down in the rush to keyboard Google-search anything about her. It was as if I typed in slow-motion anticipation of what might
be populated into my text box by what I was sure millions of other inquiring minds
just HAD to know. I started with "Is Elena Kagan………_____" and then stopped.
I figured I'd get things populated like……..gay, queer, a dyke, homo….or a
cacophony of other spite filled words. I think this time I may have literally fallen off
my chair when the generated word-choice supplied was ………………. married.
I could not stop laughing….and was filled with hopeful amazement – thinking:
Wow ---- that's a step-UP for America! Instantly I next wanted to cry at the sad juxtaposition of this inquiry with today's reality of the discriminatory injustice gay American's experience by being disallowed not only the experience of marriage, but the constitutional right to the pursuit of happiness. I wanted to laugh again at the Catch-22, that this woman could become of all things a Supreme Court Justice.
The list of my Internet experiences runs the gamut of reactions of joy, sadness, frustration, laughter, anger, social togetherness and unrelenting social isolation. It was
Face book that pushed me over the ultimate edge when I just couldn't take the bombardment of information, the one-liners and people seeming to connect but yet seeming to be so disconnected. I found myself taking the summer off and not using ANY source of technology.
Then, low and behold in the midst of my frustration with technology and Face book feeling like it separates us, the Social Network's non-shadow side presented itself in all its glory --- by uniting us. It took just one man's ultimate frustration with non-freedom to end his life by lighting himself on fire…..to begin a revolution of fire in the hearts of others to blog, log, and twitter their angry yet peace-filled messages from Yemen, Eqypt, Syria and more. Words posted on the universally shared "walls" of Face-book, began the domino tumbling down of the Berlin-like walls that separate us. This one man's final action allowed others to begin new action by speaking in the voice that makes us One; the sound of which, due to Face book, was heard through out the world!!!!!
It leaves me with just one thought ---------------------------- Awfully Amazing!
The laughter comes when I see how funny we are with the tantalizing tidbits we post
on You Tube! (just Google kittens and puppies!). My favorite part of experiencing the joy in how alike we all are --- is when I start to type in a search request. Google starts to populate the text-box with searches the millions of other hitchhikers of this Google-galaxy have similarly requested.
It amazed me one day, thinking "oh I've got one no one could have tried yet", as I
speedily attacked my keyboard with "…Is the Restasis commercial doctor-woman real or digital?". I almost fell off my ergonomic computer chair when not only did the text box
similar-search thingy take off , but it generated page after page of people wondering not only the same thing --- but queried it in even more hilarious ways than I could imagine! Apparently, I am not alone at being weirded-out by this more than bizarre looking human. I swear she is some sort of robotic-artificial-intelligence. But the gamut of
data that resulted proved she is apparently not only human, but a real doctor, based on those who seem to be "in the know"! I smiled at feeling quite connected to potentially millions of us wondering the same silly things!
Another experience seemed to show me not only how similar we are, but how
far we have come. I was watching The Today Show, when we were first introduced to President Obama's awesomely forward thinking choice of Ms. Elena Kagan as the next
Supreme Court Justice candidate. I said out loud to myself "Alright! She's GOT to be a lesbian ---- wow, now THAT WOULD be amazingly forward thinking!!!!".
Again, I found myself almost falling down in the rush to keyboard Google-search anything about her. It was as if I typed in slow-motion anticipation of what might
be populated into my text box by what I was sure millions of other inquiring minds
just HAD to know. I started with "Is Elena Kagan………_____" and then stopped.
I figured I'd get things populated like……..gay, queer, a dyke, homo….or a
cacophony of other spite filled words. I think this time I may have literally fallen off
my chair when the generated word-choice supplied was ………………. married.
I could not stop laughing….and was filled with hopeful amazement – thinking:
Wow ---- that's a step-UP for America! Instantly I next wanted to cry at the sad juxtaposition of this inquiry with today's reality of the discriminatory injustice gay American's experience by being disallowed not only the experience of marriage, but the constitutional right to the pursuit of happiness. I wanted to laugh again at the Catch-22, that this woman could become of all things a Supreme Court Justice.
The list of my Internet experiences runs the gamut of reactions of joy, sadness, frustration, laughter, anger, social togetherness and unrelenting social isolation. It was
Face book that pushed me over the ultimate edge when I just couldn't take the bombardment of information, the one-liners and people seeming to connect but yet seeming to be so disconnected. I found myself taking the summer off and not using ANY source of technology.
Then, low and behold in the midst of my frustration with technology and Face book feeling like it separates us, the Social Network's non-shadow side presented itself in all its glory --- by uniting us. It took just one man's ultimate frustration with non-freedom to end his life by lighting himself on fire…..to begin a revolution of fire in the hearts of others to blog, log, and twitter their angry yet peace-filled messages from Yemen, Eqypt, Syria and more. Words posted on the universally shared "walls" of Face-book, began the domino tumbling down of the Berlin-like walls that separate us. This one man's final action allowed others to begin new action by speaking in the voice that makes us One; the sound of which, due to Face book, was heard through out the world!!!!!
It leaves me with just one thought ---------------------------- Awfully Amazing!
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