Wednesday, November 15, 2006

What Really Matters

I have done so much through the sheer force of my own will. I don’t know how much I’ve accomplished, but what I’ve gotten done has mostly been that way. And while it seems I’m capable of doing this, it’s always been at a great expense. It’s been at the expense really of my own peace of mind. I think I’ve been going at things this way for a loooong time, but there’s certainly a cycle of this that began again in earnest in 1998.

The sheer force of my own will as a way of moving forward feels pretty lonely and isolating, mostly ‘cause it is. It excludes any kind of partnership opportunities because it requires so much focus, and anyone else’s involvement feels like a distraction. And other people have their own ideas about things, and they want their ideas heard and recognized and acknowledged, and in the midst of trying to keep my thoughts straight, that’s a huge irritant. Because all my energy is going in one direction and I don’t want to get pulled into other things.

But I’m noticing lately how much better I am at simple. And how much better I am when I’m relaxing into myself, instead of trying to exert some force on the things around me. And how much more power there is in a few well-timed thoughts or words or actions than all the force of my will. When I’m stable deep inside a place of comfort and contentment, I’m so much more efficient. I get more done with so much less effort, and I’m so much less concerned about getting ‘things’ done to begin with.

And interacting with other people is less an irritant than an opportunity. And I’ve noticed some of those people have turned out to be pretty magnificent additions in my life ~ pretty spectacular folks to have around. So I don’t want to go back to the place where I’m brittle and busy and certain about every single thing if it’s at the expense of relationships.

It’s feels wonderful to be making space for what really matters.

Friday, October 27, 2006

I Kept Thinking...

I kept thinking that this feeling was supposed to point me toward something important about you. Or maybe something important about 'us'. Seems it was actually trying to get me to pay attention to something important about me.

I couldn't see it though. It was a fuzzy place in my vision, clouding things over and I couldn't see through it. I, who am normally so clear-sighted, so far-sighted, so guided by in-sight, couldn't see the obvious thing in front of me. Maybe it was visible to you? Maybe everyone else could see it? But it's been completely invisible to me 'till just now.

So yeah - you were right. This stuff is really all about me. But even knowing that logically, even when it should be completely obvious, I have been unable to see the obvious. The thing that made this visible now - finally - was my own vision of myself changing. So now all sorts of things are coming into focus. All sorts of things are coming into view.
And even so, you continue to be such a powerful mirror....

Godzilla vs. Mothra

The greatest battle between any two monsters is the battle of Godzilla vs. Mothra. If you don't know about this, then rent the DVD. They are fearsome and ridiculous monsters. Their battle is epic, and the story is classic.

The monster in my own life has been so much less obvious - invisible really. The biggest monster has been fear. That fear sits out there all by itself, terrified of being abandoned and left completely alone, holding on by the merest hint of a thread, grasping onto any handle it can find. It has had a life of its own, nourished by reality and fantasy and mistakes and confusion, and it has sucked the life out of so much that it has touched. And like any monster, even though it's invisible, its presence has been essentially destructive.

It has tried to protect me in its own horribly misguided and way too complicated way, getting in the middle of the most precious and intimate experiences and relationships, and pulling me away from my self-respect and natural dignity. I have abandonded good sense and my own values and virtues, twisting myself into knots to accomodate its demands, but I think I know how to work through this.

It isn't the force of beating it to death or denying its existence or even its reason for being. It is in being so fully present in the middle of my own life that I can actually take care of whatever this fear has tried to protect me from. And being honest and authentic, especially insomuch as concerns my heart room to fulfill its natural generous impulses without the artificial barriers this fear has required.

Tuesday, October 24, 2006

G*d Would Never Love...

Christ Announces Hiring Of Associate Christ

The Onion

Christ Announces Hiring Of Associate Christ

JERUSALEM-Jesus announced Monday the hiring of Tacoma, WA customer-service supervisor Dean Smoler as Associate Christ.

The Guilt is Killing Me

Monday, October 23, 2006

Great Game

What are the rules? I said & she said, Do exactly what I want whenever I want, make no demands of me whatsoever & love me forever, no questions asked & I said, how do you win? & she said, you don't understand. I'm the only one who wins & then she laughed & clapped her hands. Isn't it a great game? she said.

(Brian Andreas,

Saturday, October 21, 2006

Wondering About Solitude

Is the need for privacy and space just an invention of Western culture and living, or something else? Are we so isolated in our experience that we can't bear others brushing up against us too closely for too long? Is it unfamiliar or truly unwanted? Unpleasant or unnecessary? I don't know that answer, but I know I need solitude in order to be with people. I can't do one easily without the other. But there are cultures and entire worlds where aloneness is unnatural, and billions accept, accomodate and embrace connectedness.

I have been too far on the side of being alone, building a city of fortresses for self preservation. Most of that is just feeling so damaged by the secrets I've been keeping, and the risk of exposure from anyone coming close. It's exhausting, this work of protecting the self. Now, my effort is to be receptive to healing. It is refreshing to feel the bracing wind of truth, and know that even our worst secrets lose their power in the telling.

Friday, October 20, 2006

Cast Iron Skillet

I awoke this morning with a feeling of great need, and was tempted to do what I always do, which is to pick up the cast iron skillet of my own will power and smack myself square in the head with it until that pesky feeling was knocked back into its usual hiding place.

But for some reason, this morning was different. I felt myself reach for the usual weapon of submission and didn't like its heaviness and the violence it would soon inflict. So I let it be.

And I just stayed curious about what I was feeling and why I had been so quick to reject it again and again and again. And why I was so certain those feelings were of real danger - of real consequence - so much so that they must be obliterated. And I've been watching them all day, finding that I must admit to myself many things I didn't believe or want to be true.

I feel so much better not starting my day doing voilence against myself. I feel so much better giving room to my thoughts and feelings, not trying to edit and censor them efore I even know what they are. I feel so much more human and being human feels so much better when I don't consider it some defective state of being.

I was asked the other day if I was ready to offer forgiveness to someone. My answer, in total and complete honesty, was that I didn't feel like forgiveness was necessary. I just simply understood how people can do the things they do, how mixed up and complicated being human can get, and that I am no different myself. So instead of me needing to forgive, I just simply understood. And there was forgiveness somehow for both of us in that.

Big Secrets, Big Consequences

I understand the recent spate of published memoirs, the human need to express and be acknowledged, even if that means revealing the darker side of the self. I understand the importance of the Catholic tradition of confession, of making secrets known and being told that forgiveness follows atonement. I understand the conversations of complete strangers where the most personal details become ordinary chit chat.

When you finally admit the inadmissible to yourself, it’s just a matter of degrees between that and telling others. And when secrets unleash their hold over you, the exhilaration, the lightness of suddenly being free, makes you want to tell everyone. Maybe we live in such confessional times because we live in such dark times, and the one thing in common is that we are all hiding our shameful secrets. And maybe the most inspirational thing out there is seeing someone else become free of a burden you yourself are shouldering and never thought you could be free of.

It is one thing to confess your sins to G*d, and quite another to admit them to a human being. Lyle Lovett has a great song, which goes like this:

God Will Lyrics

Who keeps on trusting you
When you've been cheating
And spending your nights on the town
And who keeps on saying that he still wants you
When you're through running around
And who keeps on loving you
When you've been lying
Saying things ain't what they seem
God does
But I don't
God will
But I won't
And that's the difference
Between God and me

So who says he'll forgive you
And says that he'll miss you
And dream of your sweet memory
God does
But I don't
God will
But I won't
And that's the difference
Between God and me

So confessions to G*d…that’s the easy stuff. To admit and acknowledge it first to yourself and then to G*d. But to say things out loud, to another human being means to admit them into shared reality, and to open oneself up to judgment, criticism, rejection, pity, scorn…it’s the point where, in acknowledging the self, you realize you might be separating from everyone and everything that has supported you in your secrecy. Big secrets, big consequences, big changes.

But the alternative is a killer. It requires that you reject yourself under the harshest kind of judgment, in favor of the warm embrace, or at least not the outright rejection, of those who mean something to you. And maybe this is why I love so much. It’s a place where people finally say all the things they won’t admit anywhere else. And you can almost hear the sigh of relief as they finally tell their secret, even though it’s anonymously.

Tuesday, October 17, 2006


So I went to Border's Books last night after an emotionally exhausting couple of hours wrestling with some ghosts from the past. I was looking for something that wasn't available, so stopped to check out the astrology section. A guy was sitting on the window sill reading through books and started talking to me.

Turns out he knows astrology. And he knows himself amazingly well. And he knows a lot about all kinds of energy. And he did a great job with insight into my chart too. Turns out he was just the exact right person to show up at the exact right time in the most unexpected place. We talked for over an hour, just the most interesting, in-depth and deeply personal kind of stuff I looooooooove!

So - thanks Umar for the great company. I love finding friends in what appear to be complete strangers.

Fractal Magic

I love fractal images. There's an intensity and depth that just fascinates me in a way most other images don't. I can't say I understand the math/science behind them well, but I love what it produces.

Seeking Deeper Connections...

Wow - this one goes without me saying anything....
(click on image to enlarge for better reading)

Monday, October 16, 2006

A Perfect Moment

A moment of charmed happiness at Coolangatta Beach on the Gold Coast of Australia.

Sexual Healing

It is time to reclaim my sexuality. It has been orphaned for far too long, floating around, untethered and unavailable. Such a big chunk of who I am - so much color and light and warmth and creativity - has been circling around me looking for a place to land.

Sexual energy is the creative force - the generative force - behind all things. And whatever possibility lies within has been hidden from me because I have ignored its existence, completely rejecting even the thought of it. Whenever, wherever it has appeared in my life, it has seemed to be a cyclone, immense in proportion, potentially swallowing up everything in some inevitable cataclysmic disaster. Melodramatic perhaps, but truly my sense of it. I have developed amazing finesse at deflecting anything sexual whether in the abstract, the casual or (especially) the deeply personal.

I would like to say that I have spiritualized my own sexuality, but I haven't. I have simply abandoned it, rejecting it and especially rejecting my body in so far as it being a vehicle for sexual attention or expression. And all the stuff that got cut-off, locked-out and ignored in the process has suddenly shown up and is demanding attention.

Very early on I was happy to simply let go of the notion of myself connected with or interested in sex in any way. It wasn't some noble sacrifice - it was just the easier choice. Most folks think of celibacy as a discipline beyond their capacity. For me, it just simplified relationships in the exact way I needed simplicity. And I love that simplicity; I don't know that I'll ever want to abandon its beauty and ease, and all its wonderful gifts. It still offers me a sense of safety and protection that I treasure, and opportunities for meaning in relationship so much richer and deeper than sex can offer.

But I know now that I want all of who I am residing in one place, where I can explore and own every piece of myself. Whatever I do with my sexuality, whatever choices I want to make, cannot be made until I reclaim myself. I can't make choices about what isn't mine. So making choices requires healing, healing requires wholeness, and wholeness requires belonging - of every part of me...what I like and don't, what I admit and won't, what's safe and scary, what I accept and reject. And that seems to be the overriding requirement at the moment...healing.

Sexual healing too, I guess. Ironically. Sexual healing of one who practices celibacy. Now that's some great irony!

Lonely Every Single Day

I love this website. The secrets shared are amazing, powerful, thought-provoking...
This is not a card I sent, but it so makes one stop and think. How many people carry this secret around with them?

Is this you?

Chasing Absolution for Sins Unknown

When I was much younger, I was bulimic. It was an addiction to an idea of who I should be – who I could be, if I was just willing to throw up enough to satisfy my hunger and yet not get fat. But it didn’t ever work. Because the kind of eating you do when you’re bulimic isn’t about filling any kind of normal hunger, and then you just throw it all up, so you’re always hungry anyway.

The hunger that the binging is supposed to fill is the emptiness of feeling…unworthy, ugly, inadequate, disgusting, unattractive…all the tragic things of female adolescence. It’s just the externalization of a whirling pit of endlessly awful feeling. The urgent feeling that you MUST find a place to throw up the donuts before they turn into actual calories…a gas station bathroom, an empty lot, a plastic bag…any place where you can get a second alone to perform this hideous ritual of sticking your finger down your throat, hence negating every bite you’ve just taken.

It’s really a purification ritual – the absolution of eating what is clearly forbidden for girls wanting to be lovely and slender and attractive and desirable and worthy of attention from any boy. It is the duty of every young woman to at least try to be this, and the throwing up is the penance for failing. Maybe you ate the donuts because you wanted them, but it can’t stay that way. They must be banished before your disobedience is known.

And so I continued this way for years, ‘till I went off to college, and decided I didn’t care about the boys anyway. That wasn’t really true, but the price of what I thought was required was too high for me. And I tried to make it so much easier and just care about the girls instead who seemed to care about different stuff, but that didn’t work for me at all…since I didn’t care about the girls that way. And then I ‘found G*d’. It was one of those profound moments of spiritual intoxication – a moment of transformation in a second, where my heart melted and truly I felt something new awaken inside. But it’s not quite that simple.

The thing is, I was still that same person who felt that throwing up was an understandable response to trying to be a perfect girl. And I just transferred my hopes for perfection to my spiritual life. I wasn’t required anymore to have a perfect body – my body didn’t matter suddenly at all. And that was a relief. But now the emphasis was on spiritual perfection…the perfecting of the self, and this was even harder. No shortcuts with this either. Bulimia had never worked to make me the perfect girl – I wasn’t even close to slim or slender all those years when I was throwing up, let alone any other kind of perfect.

You can mostly hide throwing up, but this was even harder to hide – this spiritual imperfection. It was visible to me and everyone else. The scowl of impatience, the laugh too loud and too long, the desires that aren’t supposed to be there… The list of the ways I’m not yet perfect is long and pretty typical of most folks I know, but my diligent effort was to overcome those imperfections.

And as before, I tried to accomplish that transformation with force. I worked so hard to force myself into a mold, making myself fit as best I could, and disowning all the stuff that I couldn’t squeeze into the box. I pretended it wasn’t there, and after a while, I got numb to the pain of this violence I did against myself. I got used to being angry and resentful and awkward and unhappy, thinking this was the price of spiritual effort, spiritual perfection.

I got used to thinking that others knew me better than I knew myself, that G*d had perhaps shown them something about me that I couldn’t yet see. So I trusted everyone else more than I trusted myself, and put myself in situations that weren’t bad, but such an awkward fit. I thought of giving up my sense of fun and freedom as a spiritual sacrifice – some kind of holy surrender. But it wasn’t. It was just another way to try to create a structure that would give me a sense of worth and dignity and value. And from time to time, I’d wake up and realize that the life I’d created didn’t fit, but it seemed still such a good alternative to the mess I made of things on my own that it seemed like the best choice.

My mantra in all this was “I don’t care.” Not about anyone or anything, including much about myself. “I don’t care.” Easy to walk away from everyone and everything when you don’t care. “I don’t care.” And I have walked away. In every way one can walk away, I have. Literally. Just picking up and leaving everyone and everything behind, without a second thought. Proud of myself really for embodying the virtue of detachment. “I don’t care.”

But that’s not true really. I do care. A lot. I care about so many things, and people too, and most of all these days, I care about myself. I care that my heart heals and that I can actually love people without being overwhelmed by the fear that swallowed me up for so long. I care that my life means something. I care that the creative voice inside me finds _expression. I care that I connect with other people and we are both better for it. I care that my kitty is well loved until her last breath. I care that my family and friends know what they mean to me. I care that my relationship with G*d isn’t an idea or a philosophy, but an actual relationship. I care about all sorts of things. And the more I care, the less I can continue forcing myself into a little box that has no room for me.

For a time I needed to walls of that box to protect me and give me structure that I couldn’t build for myself. I needed the vision of others to show me who I was or could be. I needed someone else’s hope because I didn’t have it myself. But I’ve grown out of that space, and instead of comfortable numbness, there’s just pain and discomfort. And now I know that pain and discomfort are not the hallmarks of spiritual perfection, holy sacrifice or divine effort. Pain and discomfort are a good indication that something is wrong.

I don’t have all this worked out yet, but I’ve got a crowbar and at least enough courage to have been extricating myself from this latest box in which I entombed myself.

Why Can't I Be Normal

Monday, August 28, 2006

Real Reflection

Real Reflection

That's not my real reflection, she said. I've changed so much since then most people barely recognize me.

~Brian Andreas~

It is a very dark, rainy and windy morning here in Chicago. And the rain is coming down hard at that wonderful sideways angle that guarantees that no matter how you hold your umbrella, you end up soaked. And since I walk to work I experience the full brunt of the weather. But it’s not better if you take a bus or a cab or drive. The rain slows down every bit of traffic, so a cab takes twice as long as a walk. And I don’t really mind, not even the sideways rain.

And I didn’t have my iPod with me, so instead of listening to music I had a chance to think (in between dodging the umbrellas of everyone crowded onto the sidewalk to avoid the drenching splash from buses plowing through puddles).

I was thinking about how I have a very clear vision of myself – who I am, why I’m here, what my life is meant for, and what I have to do to maintain my integrity and self-respect. But that’s all been clouded over for a long time, covered with a film that had a reflective surface. And because it's been wrapped around me, and not hanging flat on some wall, the reflection it mirrored was wavy and bumpy and and constantly moving. So the reflection I got back looked nothing like I expected or understood.

Which is to say, that in looking for this essential aspect of myself, I kept seeing distorted reflections of others. Maybe this is part of being a Libra…maybe we have this component of confusing ourselves with others. What we mirror to others and what they mirror back to us. Of course, all relationships have an element of that, but I have felt it acutely, and for as long as I can remember.

And I have a certain kind of sensitivity to people. I can know what they’re thinking and feeling without trying, which can be a wonderful tool if put to good use, but it also means that I’ve been receptive to sorrow and confusion and fear that resides in others and floats around in the atmosphere. It’s found a home in my mind and heart simply because it could.

But that’s changing. I’ve connected these experiences to very specific people, but mostly they’ve just been triggers for activating this sensitivity. Because in order to avoid being completely overwhelmed, I’ve often ignored what I sense from others. It’s not a good technique – it didn’t keep the sorrow away so much as I just pretended it didn’t exist. And then someone or some memory comes along and makes it impossible to keep pretending.

Stepping away from the game of pretend has been wonderful. I’m in the middle of a very magical point in my life, where illusion is being replaced by an even better reality. So all this stuff I was shielding myself from simply has no room now in my heart or mind or life or relationships. The sensitivity is still there, but the indiscriminate absorption of every bit of other people's sorrow has stopped, or should I say it's been transformed.

I'm not simply a sponge or a mirror anymore; it's not just about absorbing and reflecting, but it's about creating and expressing. Which means that my very clear vision of myself – who I am, why I’m here, what my life is meant for, and what I have to do to maintain my integrity and self-respect – has a home now in the place that all the other stuff was being stored. And it’s a much better fit.

Saturday, August 26, 2006


One of the great gifts of life is that, as long as there is breath, we get a chance to become new. There is no sorrow that is greater than the human ability to heal.

Friday, August 25, 2006

Great Irony

My father’s life was fueled by extremes of every kind, and they eventually caught up with him and did him in. But before coming to such an inglorious end, he was also a father and husband. As a daughter of his, I was the one of whom everyone always said “you’re just like your father.” This was from the time I was very young until he died…”you’re just like your father.” From people who knew us well and people who hardly knew us at all.

And yet, his presence, fueled by these extremes of personality and behavior, was something I grew to hate. The older I got, the more completely I rejected him and any place he might have in my life. The turmoil and suffering he left in his wake was too overwhelming, too complicated, and I too easily absorbed the confusion. Out of some sheer protective mechanism, I squeezed out any space I had for him in my heart.

I’m not saying he didn’t love me, and deeply. Just that at some point, on some level, I realized I couldn’t let in even a little of his energy into my life without it creating awful pain.

He’s been gone for almost 17 years now, and I’m still sorting this through. And I’m wondering what it means to so fundamentally reject someone in who resides a mirror of so much of yourself. What happens when “you’re just like” this person who you find so unacceptable in every way? What is the price of choosing between yourself and the person “you’re just like?”

And what do you do every time you see an impulse, a trait, a tendency, a habit, a quality that maybe isn’t “just like” him, but even a little like him? But you don’t know how it will take a hold in your own life and maybe grow into something horrifying there. It requires numbing amounts of much judging and weighing, accepting and rejecting ~ too much vigilance over the self and others.

This kind of mental and emotional parsing creates an illusion of control, an illusion of safety, an illusion of protection. You can’t neatly tuck away relationships in some small corner of your heart or mind, as if they belong to you alone, even with someone who’s been dead for 17 years. ‘Cause the ghosts that live on, live on in you anyway.

I’ve built all sorts of artificial constructs to support certain ideas I have about my father, our relationship, and who I am, and none of it is fitting very well anymore. And as it changes, it’s changing my relationship with others who also accepted these artificial constructs as reality. So my looking at all this with new eyes is causing quite a lot of turmoil. Which makes me in some ways, quite ironically, just like my father.

It's all part of an old story, handed down to me but that doesn’t belong to me. And I can’t re-write it for anyone else. But I’m re-writing the story for myself, re-thinking the characters, re-framing what I know and what I do with my new understanding. And I’m really enjoying the creative engagement it requires. Finally, a chance to tell this sory my way.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

Reality Check

We don't see reality as it is; we see it as we are.

~ Anonymous ~

Wow - I Really Believed This!

Love hurts. Wow - I really believed this for the longest time. The lyrics below are from an old song, which I very much liked, and I thought they were true. That love and pain and need and disappointment were indistinguishable from each other. And there was plenty around me to reinforce that notion, including my own crippled experiences of what love could be.

But the words don't work for me anymore. I'm not lost in the throes of romantic love, looking to have every need of my heart met by another. The love I know these days heals and uplifts and energizes and empowers and brings all kinds of joy and meaning and contentment.

It is without condition, restriction or limits. It requires honesty and communication and regard, and it demands that everyone's dignity be sustained. It enhances respect and esteem, for myself and others, and it just feels good and right and fun. It's an easy laugh, companionable silence, feelings communicated without words, and an open and curious heart.

I still like this song, but I'll never hear it the same way again...

Love Hurts

Love hurts,
love scars,
Love wounds,
and marks,
Any heart,
not tough,
Or strong enough

To take a lot of pain,
Take a lot of pain
Love is like a cloud
Holds a lot of rain
Love hurts,
ooh ooh love hurts

I'm young,
I know,
But even soI know a thing,
or twoI learned,
from youI really learned a lot,

Really learned a lot
Love is like a flame
It burns you when its hot
Love hurts,
ooh ooh love hurts

Some fools think of happiness
Some fools fool themselves
I guess

They're not foolin me
I know it isnt true,
I know it isnt true
Love is just a lie,
Made to make you blue
Love hurts,
ooh,ooh love hurts
Ooh,ooh love hurts....

Choosing Truth Over Convenience

The time between 4-5am is absolutely magical for clear, inspired thinking and conversation with G*d. I know of no other time where my mind is more able to absorb understanding and virtue, and where things needing to leave depart so quickly. And so it was this morning as well.

I was mulling over some confusion, turning it this way and that, trying to see it in a new light. It has pervaded my thoughts, and yet felt so foreign, but I couldn’t shake it. And this morning, while sitting in a quite reverie, an understanding of what this was hit me so hard that I said “Oh my G*d” out loud to myself, startling the cat who expects the usual silence of our early morning meditation. It just suddenly hit me so hard what was going on.

And what has been going on is that certain habits and patterns that I inherited years ago ~ maybe from even before I was born ~ are mindlessly playing themselves out in my life. It’s as if I picked up the script to someone else’s story, and assigned certain roles to myself and others of a very old drama, and I’ve been saying the lines and playing the part, only vaguely aware that this isn’t my story.

But it’s not my story, not even a little. I don’t want to keep breathing life into this tired old story ~ this story of sadness and suspicion and need that I didn’t write, don’t enjoy, and am not well suited to play. It is antithetical to my own nature in every way really, so I’m taking off that costume, putting down the script, and walking off the stage.

This morning all that was startlingly clear suddenly, and now I wonder why it took so long to notice something so obvious. But maybe it had to feel so wrong, so awkward and so uncomfortable before I could be certain that I don’t want this old energy inhabiting my present life.

You ever done that? Awoken to an understanding so suddenly and clearly that it utterly and absolutely alters your perspective, spinning you around 180 degrees? This is happening a lot for me right now, and I love it. I love embracing what is true over what is convenient, what is real over what is easy, what is authentic over what is acceptable.

I wonder how much else is still at work in my life on that level. I suspect not so much, after months now of sorting through what’s been hidden in the basement and the attic of my mind, but it bears watching. Because very soon, my energy and focus will be moving out from this very internal level of concern and toward more creative expression, and I want to make sure whatever’s left truly belongs with me.

Sunday, August 20, 2006

The Wall

Sometimes, when you’re trying too hard to make something happen, it feels like you’re hitting your head against a wall. My advice? If the wall isn’t going anywhere, at least stop hitting your head.

Friday, August 18, 2006

Stepping Into the River

I have been wearing fear like a shroud, a shawl, a wrap – comforting myself with its cozy familiarity regardless of the discomfort it brought. But it doesn’t fit anymore. It never fit well anyway, but I got so used to the feel that I stopped noticing long ago.

This shadow of fear had wrapped itself tightly around my heart like plastic wrap in what I thought was an extra layer of protection, keeping bad things out and maybe good things in. But really all it did was keep my heart constricted in a place too small for it to beat wholly, for life to run through it, for it to grow. And all the protection I was cherishing was suffocating me bit by bit by bit.

And I finally realized I couldn’t breathe. So with a lot of tedious work and effort, it’s been removed – a lot of unwrapping and then picking away at all the little pieces left behind. But that artificial support it created left an imprint. Like when you take off a ring you wear all the time and you can feel where it used to be. So I’m getting used to the feeling of freedom, of not being constrained by fear and worry, able to see without this haze of constant vigilance clouding my vision.

I’m happy to get used to this new freedom. So much of my freedom has come from me fighting against things and people, standing apart and aside, distancing myself from expectation and need and connectedness, all in the name of freedom. But I don’t think this is the requirement anymore. And loneliness isn’t really freedom – it’s just a kind of isolation.

Freedom for me now is being free to love – to be as loving and generous as feels right, not restricting that for fear of anything. Because this is something that’s very true to who I am, and I have denied that for soooooooo long…just the simple need to love. To be connected and engaged and involved.

In ways I cannot fathom or understand, that has always seemed a shameful thing. But it doesn’t look or feel that way to me anymore. Love feels like the essential river that runs through us all, connecting us and giving us life and joy, and I cannot bear to turn my back on that life-giving force for another second.

I have been parched, watching this river flow by me, never daring to dip in my toe or take a drink. But today, I stepped fully into it, and it has refreshed and enlivened me and brought me back to life. I will not step out of this river again so I hope you will join me there.

Thursday, August 17, 2006

Master of Vision and Vitality

It is time for real change. Months literally of thinking and feeling my way through so much tucked invisibly away inside, sorting through what to keep, what to discard, what to change. Being alternately horrified and delighted with my discoveries and how I've handled them. Excited at the change. Uncertain about how who I was becoming, and all that confusion spilling over into places I'd prefer to have been simply graceful and composed, but unable to be that for a time.

And now it's time for this change to transcend communication via keyboards and forums, and bring all of this into my life, my heart, and real relationship. It's time for taking all of this and connecting with real people in real ways from what is most real inside of me. And so I shuffle through the deck of cards to see what they might say.

The card for the moment? The Knight of Wands.

"The Knight of Wands is committed to the principle of spiritual growth and evolution. This is the visionary and energetic Knight who is unwilling to edit, rehearse, or hold back any part of who he is. He rides the unicorn horse, a symbol of vision and inspiration that has pruporse and application.

He represents the power of deep internal shifts and perceptions that are being dynamically expressed. This is the Vision Quester who has attained a significant vision and is mobilizing all energy to actualize it. The Knight of Wands holds the torch, the Ace of Wands, in his hand to burn out any blocks or obstacles that might stand in the way of his vision.

He had the ability to shed old beliefs and to honor the changing perception he has of himself and others. He charges forward, eager to share perceptions and insights which can assist deep changes internally and externally."

Reading this, I think it's a good mirror to how I'm feeling. And now it's time for this to be so much more than a feeling.

Wednesday, August 16, 2006

(Not) Waiting to Exhale

I've been holding my breath for a long time, keeping so much inside, holding tight to…I have no idea what at this point. But I’m making a really conscious effort to exhale, and with every breath out, there also goes fear and tension and regret and confusion.

I understand why pranayama is such an important part of spiritual discipline for hatha yogis. Prana is breath - the life force sustaining the body; the breath as an external manifestation of the subtle life force. And pranayama is the practice of learning to control breath and breathing, as it relates to the force of life through the body.

Learning to breathe in and out again, especially out, and all the way, carries with it subtle and supple power. I am becoming new with each new breath.

Monday, August 14, 2006


OK – so anyway, I have this really lovely friend who was taking a fairly innocent stroll through the landscape of my life, and accidentally fell into a big hole in my heart. I don’t think either of us knew it was even there, well-camouflaged as it had been by an apparent confidence. But fall he did, making me suddenly and painfully aware of the existence of this hole.

Now my heart has had room for the infinitesimal/infinite space occupied by G*d, and I’ve made cramped but cozy quarters for myself, but room for anyone else has been on a time-share basis. There was room for someone to stop by for a short while, but not for long, and never exclusively. And then suddenly here’s my friend, taking up space as well.

So I’ve alternated between trying to get him out of there altogether, and borrowing space from other things to accommodate his presence. But neither one was the right answer – that I could tell. This is the choice I’ve been making my whole life…staying in the little space in my heart that I’ve carved out, and vigilantly guarding it against intruders.

It’s a sucky choice. It creates some artificial construct that you have to constantly choose between yourself and others. And this is, for me, a subject about which I could write/talk for days. So I’ll save that for another time. But in thinking about this choice I was trying to figure out what I could do wholeheartedly – what could I say “yes” to completely.

And it hit me in the way that very obvious things often do, that I can’t do anything wholeheartedly with a big hole in my heart. It’s an absolute contradiction in terms. There isn’t really a choice between me and someone else, or between accepting and rejecting friendship. In fact, the issue isn’t about choices at all. The issue is about healing…not how do I accommodate or eject this person from my heart, from my life, but how do I heal this hole in my heart?

After this inspiration, all I could think was, “duh.” In that world-weary cynical-teenager kind of way – “duh.” So simple. And it has felt so intense and complicated because I’ve been trying to think my way through a problem that is, in fact, non-existent. I see this at work – people trying to solve problems without understanding the underlying issue at hand, and so their solutions are always ineffective. Get distracted enough by the wrong thing, and you can work your fingers to the bone and never get anywhere.

So I’ve been working on the whole healing process thing, which is another story in itself, but let me just say it helps to work with good people.

What I’m seeing is that when the heart heals, when the gaps and tears and holes are repaired, its natural capacity is restored – literally, whole-heartedness. And the thing with wholeheartedness is that you don’t have to choose between anything. The heart has this amazing capacity to grow and strengthen and expand according to the need. There’s plenty of space for me, complete accommodations for the subtle presence of G*d, and actually plenty of love and room enough for anyone else.

So now I don’t have to worry about anyone falling into the hole in my heart. The repair work is well underway, and while my heart is still a little tender, it is stronger with each passing moment. And very soon this will be one of those things I can’t believe seemed so complicated at the time!

Friday, August 11, 2006


A friend sent me a note about chaos theory, of which I am absolutely not any kind of expert. I think chaos is a direct result of entropy - when natural order is exhasuted over time, the integrity of humanity, which was the thing holding it altogether, falters, and so everything else follows suit. I believe deeply that it is human integrity and dignity that gives order to every other thing, and when it's lost, all else is lost.

To me, the spiritual journey - the great pursuit - is the restoration of that integrity and dignity. When that is restored, human relationships are restored, and humanity's relationship with the planet, nature and matter is also restored. Can't have one without the other. And it's our connection with the Divine that restores us.

So - the three layers/levels, working in coordination - G*d, humanity and nature. And it all hinges on humanity. We have choices to make, and those choices have real consequences. Not just in our own personal sphere, but far-reaching.

The sorrow in the teeming refugee camps in Darfour is the same sorrow as the sorrow of a rich American housewife is the same sorrow as the starving peasants in North Korea is the same sorrow as the widow in Iraq is the same sorrow as the French politician is the same sorrow... Whatever our choices, they impact all of humanity in some way, on some level. There cannot be true happiness when even one of us is still in sorrow.

It's easy to point the finger, but it always points back at me...who am I, how do I live, what choices do I make?

Cycles of Time

Everything is the world moves in cycles. The ancient swastika of India (awfully appropriated by Hitler) is the symbol of the eternal movement forward of time in a never-ending cycle. Reminders of this are everywhere, from the 24-hours in each day, the 12 months in a year, the 4 seasons, and all the ways you see it move in your own life.

So I’ve been thinking about the mathematical precision of cycles. Astronomical cycles like the 28 years of Saturn and the 12 years of Jupiter, and the 18 months of Venus and the one year of the Sun’s movement, and how the cosmology is aligned with us on a human scale.

Look back over your life and see if you don’t notice the cycles of 28 years, marked by increments of change approximately every 7 years. Or the cycles if 12 years, marked by 3 year increments of less dramatic opportunity. When you know about these different cycles, change stops looking like some random force assaulting you from beyond, and is instead an invitation to a better you.

I say all of this because I’ve been noticing these cycles in my own life. I don’t believe these cosmological cycles make change, so much as they reflect the natural movement of the human soul. We need to move forward, and the energy of the world around us reinforces and supports that.

I have a friend who used to ask me if she should just wait out an astrological transit…if something was happening, how long she should sit tight before it would pass. And my answer was always that it’s not happening for you to ignore or wait it through. It’s happening because there’s something inside you needing realignment and change, so embrace the opportunity.

I am in a season of change. So many incremental cycles are overlapping all at once, creating a confluence of transformation that hovers on the verge of overwhelming. But I know the opportunity to re-make myself and my life into a better reflection of who I am exists uniquely at this moment. And I’m not sitting this one out, waiting for it to be over.

It’s not enough to think or to write; some newness must emerge from all of this. I awoke with a start from a life that didn’t quite fit months ago, and I am not going back to sleep, back to numb, back to passive, back to disengaged. This season of change is blowing away everything that doesn’t work, hasn’t worked, won’t work, and making room for…well, all I can see right now is unlimited possibility.

Come ~ Be With Me

There’s a voice inside that’s been demanding expression for some time. And now it seems a bit quieter. Not that it’s gone away, but the expression it requires is a bit more intimate – a bit more personal. Maybe me talking to myself, or maybe just me talking with G*d.

I heard such an overwhelming invitation in my head the other day: “Come be with Me. Come ~ be with Me.” And so I did. I put down everything I was doing, and simply went to be with G*d, to spend time in that company and fill up with all that was being offered.

And I was transported in those few hours. The love and peace and easiness of that time was extraordinary. And it hasn’t left. I keep hearing that same call: “Come – be with Me.” And I feel myself running to answer it, like an important phone call you’ve been waiting for, or a dear friend you’ve been waiting to meet. You don’t want to miss out on a second.

So I find myself rearranging my time and my priorities to make sure I’m available, and I’m carving out space in my life and my mind and mostly my heart for all of this. And it seems to have taken me into a quieter space by external measures, but one that is rich and deep and fascinating.

I feel greatly fortunate with what’s being offered. People seem confused often by the notion of meditation – that it’s some boring thing you do where you somehow empty your mind and sit still without a thought in your head. I couldn’t begin to sustain that for even a second myself.

I don’t know how you do that. But leaving aside my limitations and weaknesses and sorrows, and stepping into an unlimited expanse of joy and love and delight? Engaging my mind in pure thought, divine love, and limitless possibility? This is an offer I simply can’t refuse.

Friday, August 4, 2006

Old Habits...

Old habits are so hard to break. That's why it's critical to put new and better ones in their place, 'cause otherwise it feels like there's nothing left. I imagine creating new habits and leaving old ones behind to be like action movie sequences.

You know that part in the movie where (Superman or Spiderman or The Matrix or whatever other hero movie there is) has to jump from one building to the next? And it's an impossible jump? No ordinary human being can make this kind of leap without getting splattered all over the place? And yet, somehow the hero manages this amazing leap successfully and without injury?

I think moving away from the past, into the present and through to the future feels like that kind of leap. It requires some super-human effort, and then once that's set in motion, you just have to leap into it with absolutely every fiber of your being. And you can't hesitate or slow down even for a second. And that stupid blind faith and the force of your own conviction enables you to make that great leap.

'Cause if you just stay where you are, paring away the old, but not moving into the new, you begin to feel emptier and emptier, bereft even of the comfort of your own pain. So moving forward is non-negotiable, unless you want to slip back into the quiet discomfort of the past ~ into old habits that don't fit you or your life anymore.

It takes a long time to get to the point of leaping, and just a split second to make that move. And it's terrifying and exhilerating and once you're on the other side, you can't believe that you've just become the superhero in the movie of your own life. Impossible to believe, except that you've just done it yourself!

Wednesday, August 2, 2006

Keep Moving

Center on Wheels

I spent a long time trying to find my center until I looked closely one night & found it had wheels & moved easily in the slightest breeze, so now I spend less time sitting and more time sailing.

~Brian Andreas~

The joy of letting go trumps the security of holding on. The thrill of re-discovering things you never really knew outweighs the comfort of routine. The fear of confronting uncertainty contains gifts beyond belief. It's amazing what comes alive inside when you choose your life second-by-second, minute-by-minute.

I can see my center shifting right before my eyes, and I'm so relieved. It's been jiggling and shimmying and trembling, but all in one place, and now it's finally starting to move, which is just what I needed. Getting stuck anywhere - even in the middle of one approach to change just gets suffocating to me. I'm so glad to be moving forward or sideways - not really sure which direction, but I'm just glad to be moving again.

Hard Work

Potential Energy

My life had such potential, she told me, before I found out how much work was involved.

~Brian Andreas~

People say stuff all the time like 'no pain, no gain', and 'anything worth having is worth fighting for', but I don't believe any of that. Anything that's ever come into my life worth really keeping has floated in on quiet wings, gliding into the center of my universe without me lifting a finger.

When I encounter things requiring hard work, I either leave them aside or hire them out. I could say I like to work smart instead of hard, but mostly I find there are some details that need attending to, and the rest is about me figuring out how to let go.

If something feels really hard to me, then inevitably I find I'm heading in the wrong direction, and using too much of my own will power to try to force things to move according to my personal desire. "Hard work" is a great indicator that I need to reasses what I'm doing and thinking and get back to a place of inspiration, joy and lightness. No one likes me much when I'm taking things to seriously.

If you find yourself banging your head against a wall repeatedly, then stop banging your head! I appreciate folks who try to change the wall or climb over it or push through it, but I'm a big fan of walking around it. I am NOT the stuff of action movie heros!

And I'd be more concerned that I wasn't demonstrating the requisite virtue for my potential to be unlocked, what with the lack of hard work, but the most amazing things keep happening in my life, so I'm sticking with it for now.

The Insufficiency of Morality

Tao Te Ching by Lao Tzu (Stephen Mitchell translation)
Chapter 38

The Master doesn't try to be powerful;
thus he is truly powerful.
The ordinary man keeps reaching for power;
thus he never has enough.

The Master does nothing;
yet he leaves nothing undone.
The ordinary man is always doing things,
yet many more are left to be done.

The kind man does something,
yet something remains undone.
The just man does something,
and leaves many things to be done.

The moral man does something,
and when no one responds
he rolls up his sleeves and uses force.

When the Tao is lost, there is goodness.
When goodness is lost, there is morality.
When morality is lost, there is ritual.
Ritual is the husk of true faith,
the beginning of chaos.

Therefore the Master concern himself
with the depths and not the surface,
with the fruit and not the flower.
He has no will of his own.
He dwells in reality,
and lets all illusions go.

It is this morality that is the shadow of true goodness, masquerading as righteousness. And it is that corrupted morality that has destroyd so many good people. It's that rightousness that pretends to offer salvation with so many conditions and strings attached. It is a rightousness created by scared people, trying to assure themselves that G*d has certain rules and that they alone will be saved by knowing and following them.

G*d's heart is so much bigger than morality and righteous indignation and whatever else we can imagine to hate each other for.

Watching the Ants

Packets of Light

These are little packets of light & you need to plant them early in the year & remember to mark where they were because lots of times they look like weeds in the beginning & it's not until later that you see how beautiful they really are.

~Brian Andreas~

It's easy to miss the good stuff if you don't give it time to grow. Part of the problem with living in such fast-paced times is that you don't get the chance to just sit down and be with yourself, spend time alone with nothing but your thoughts, seeing what's growing and shifting and changing.

There's sound and noise and activity everywhere, and if you remove yourself from that, then everyone wants you to feel bad for not being productive enough. There's not much value in the corporate world for the kind of slow-paced quiet that you really need to keep feeling alive.

I remember when I was a kid. I remember walking home from school and stopping to watch ants. It seemed like I watched them for hours, just moving around in their ant-way, picking up impossibly huge things for ants and carrying them from one place to another. And I drop a stick or a leaf or something in the middle of them to see what they'd do about it, and more than anything I just loved my ant-time...not having to do anything or be anywhere, and I still feel the same way.

I don't stop and watch ants on the sidewalk anymore though, but just letting my mind roam around and stretch its legs and get some fresh air - is still my favorite kind of time. Only now I have to schedule it. I think this is one of the reasons I don't feel lonley hardly ever. I so much enjoy the company of myself when I have a chance to experience it.

The Truth About Kitties

Three Blind Mice

I tried for a whole summer to teach our cat to play the piano. We started with an easy song. It was 3 Blind Mice. My dad said it didn't work because the cat had a tin ear, but I think it was because she kept looking around for the blind mice the whole time & never gave it her full attention.

~Brian Andreas~

First, I love kitties. Second, I love the idea that you can teach a cat anything! Now that's funny!

Stress Reduction

Stress Reducation

I have so much less stress, he said, now that I've given up on ambition.

~Brian Andreas~

Truly, truly, truly. Since the moment I realized that I care most about who I am, and least about outcomes, I have so much more peace. Now I can focus on what really matters - the quality of my character, the nature of my relationships, and what I have to offer to the community of humanity of which I am a charter member.

In every situation, not being concerned about a specific outcome, or thinking I should know what that outcome should be, eliminates the stress of trying to create it, and the stress of trying to convince others that my goal, my vision, my version of the future, is the right one.

And what I have seen, again and again, is that the future has unfolded better than I imagined it. All sorts of things emerge that I wouldn't have thought of, details I left out of my own ambitious notions, subtleties of richness and texture that flesh out reality with so much more beauty than I knew about.

I don't feel I've abaonded ambition so much as opened a way for potential to emerge. An old boss asked me about my 5-year plan. I told her I'd just have to wait and see what G*d and the world needed from me over the next 5 years, 'cause there was no way I could predict that.

Sometimes it's just a great sigh of relief to let the world slide off your shoulders and sink into the truth of who you are. It's in those moments that real possibility - a future and a self greater than any personal amibition - reveals itself to you.

That's why silence and meditation are so good for the soul. Not simply to quiet the mind, but to give the small voice of your perfect potential a chance to be heard...and if you listen well, you're gonna love what you hear.

Lost In Traslation

Lost in the Translation

There are some days when no matter what I say it feels like I'm far away in another country & whoever is doing the translating has had far too much to drink

~Brian Andreas~

Sometimes words seem to be the biggest obstacles to communication. If we could just stop talking/writing/explaining ourselves, and stand together with our hearts shining true, we'd know everything we really need to know.

And we'd have so much good will toward each other and the grace to give others the space to heal and grow and change without demanding that they find a way to accomodate us. And then we'd want to find a way to accomodate each other anyway just because it's a lot more fun to do this together than alone.


Fragile World

It's a very fragile world, she told us, so walk carefully everywhere you go & we promised to remember for as long as we could.

~Brian Andreas~

There's no end to the fragility of the world in which we live, and the delicate state of our own lives and hearts. Just look around here...all of us, working so hard to build a community and keep it in intact. We've got the purest of intentions, the requisite good wishes for each other, and yet surprises keep intruding on the little piece of paradise we thought we'd crafted. The unexpected appears again and again, and maintiaining even this community is a process fraught with complexity and complication.

Our protection - our only protection - is our own virtue. To what degree do I stay true to myself? Not my stubborn vision of how right I am and how wrong another is, but true to my authentic self. The me that knows that everyone deserves respect, and that sometimes walking away is the right thing, and that winning an argument and losing a relationship is a very bad win indeed.

The authentic me that wants to be recognized for the qualities I have, not for the mistakes I make. The me that is willing to do the work to find something worth liking/respecting in everyone, even if it takes extra time and effort. The me that sees the broken heart hiding in all of us and decides not to add to that pain. The me that sees the burden of sorrow we each carry, and decides not to add to the heaviness.

The me that makes a choice to say a word of encouragement instead of needing to punish someone when they've hurt me. The me that knows that when one of us suffers, we all suffer, and the me that knows that when I can love, then I can be loved.

Our hope, our strength, individually and collectively, is always our virtue. Sometimes it comes from inspiration and faith, but it never happens without making a choice ~ it's never an accident. Gentleness has power and strength contained within it to heal broken hearts, lift heavy burdens, mend torn relationships, sweeten even a bitter soul, and reveal beauty in another. It is a choice, and it's always the right one.

Out to Play

Out to Play

No hurt survives for long without our help, she said & then she kissed me & sent me out to play again for the rest of my life.

~Brian Andreas~

Many hidden things have to emerge before they will leave us. They come up from a secret hiding place deep inside, often dank and dreary and filled with long shadows, and it takes so much energy to keep them hidden.

It's a lovely moment when you can tie your secrets to a balloon and let it lift them out of that dark space into the light of understanding and love and acceptance. Without the shadows, secrets are never as scary. And when they float away, it's hard to believe the amount of space they were taking up in the heart, and how much room there is now for everything else.

And it's so wonderful to find out that you're more than a collection of dark secrets and hidden sorrows. That the urge to love and be generous and give from the very best part of yourself is still alive. It had just been squished in the little space that was left in your heart, squished behind and under the secrets, and now it can breathe again. And there's nothing that feels much more right than that.

To come back to yourself - to come home to the place inside you that's filled with the all goodness you hoped you were capable of, untainted by even your own ulterior motives...this is the moment that pure joy begins to move through your life and leaves a trail of healing in its wake. This is the moment you wake up to who you really are. This is the moment that you understand your own beauty and value and worth, and realize that truly you were meant to be here, who you are, as you are.

And forgiveness tumbles out of you, taking with it the last of the dark shadows and fear, and opening up the possibility for a future you haven't even yet imagined.

Hard to Forget

Hard to Forget

I was waiting for such a long time, she said. I thought you forgot. It's hard to forget, I said, when there is such an empty space when you are gone.

~Brian Andreas~

Don't ya just know that space in your own heart, and how much it hurts when something happens to remind you how empty it's been? For me, G*d has filled in that space, healed its torn and bleeding edges, and made me fit for human company again.

For the duration of this lifetime, I cannot hand my heart over to another human, preferring instead the safe haven of G*d's love. I'm waiting 'till I've healed more, when I'm better able to fully love, to engage with other human beings in a way where the sorrow doesn't outweigh the joy - the dissapointment and regret don't outweigh satisfaction. Good thing I believe in reincarnation! It's nice to be certain of second chances (and third and fourth and fifth chances!).

Tuesday, July 25, 2006

The Greatness Within

I've never particularly had a dream about anything I wanted to do nearly so much as dreams about the person I might become. And it has been my great, great fortune to be surrounded by those who not only see the possibility in me, but are as interested in and committed to finding a way to let that emerge as I am.

To be in the company of those who deal in possibility and potential, who understand the things that are subtle and invisible but as real as the ground we step on...these are the people who allow change, who encourage change, who welcome change. There are 10,000 very good reasons to be afraid. If you ever need a reason not to move forward, not to change, not to try, there are so many good reasons.

But the freedom, the exhilaration, the absolute liberation of doing what's in your heart obliterates all of those things. Fulfilling one's potential isn't about quantifiable outcomes. It's about filling yourself and filling your life with all the qualities in your heart and mind that need expression. It's about being loving, not because you've found someone worthy to love, but because you are full of love and it needs to be shared.

Being the best person you can be doesn't happen when you decide others are worthy of you that way. It happens when you realize you don't want to hold back anymore, and that you simply feel so good being that best person. And then you see how that actually uplifts and elevates everyone around you anyway. That in some way they were waiting for you to step up and be that person, and mirror back to them all the possibility in the world.

Real creativity is required in this. So many old ways of doing and being have failed us miserably. The ways we've expressed ourselves have caused us more sorrow than joy and depleted us instead of strengthened us. So finding a new and meaningful way to be our best requires real thoughfulness, engagement, creativity and attention. It won't just magically happen 'cause I wish it to be so. I am not just suddenly someone new because I whisper some affirmations to myself.

A few things help tremendously. Surrounding yourself with others who are as committed and steadfast in moving forward makes a huge difference. The support and structure this kind of friendship provides cannot be overestimated. And making room for the pure transformative love of G*d heals the heart and soul. When the deep wounds start to heal, when the broken heart starts to mend, then potential has a safe home inside the self.

I don't think this kind of change can happen in a vacuum. I tried that for a long time, but the energy required is immense and almost impossible to sustain alone. And even connection with G*d, while the root of all of it, isn't enough. Because relationship is the place where all this plays least in my life. And I need the help and good wishes of others. When relationships are good, they are the greatest joy in life. So I'm keeping the company of those who recognize the greatness within, in themselves and in me, and I'm better for it.


So gorgeous!

Tuesday, July 18, 2006

The Power of Presence

I live in a major metropolitan area, and on my walk to work every day, I run across more homeless folks than you might imagine would inhabit these few blocks. My neighborhood is an area that is full of rush-hour commuters, so the homeless tend to drift this way, knowing that there are many sympathetic suburbanites commuting into the city who cannot resist the sad faces and outstretched hands. A woman I work with was wracked with guilt about passing the homeless by without giving them anything, but she didn't want to give money. She decided granola bars were a good answer. She felt she was giving them something they really needed, but could not be mis-used. She keeps granola bars in her purse now all the time.

Being confronted with the unresolvable sorrow of humanity in very small and very personal ways on a daily basis requires one to do some soul searching. Do I ignore these people? Do I acknowledge them? If so, in what way? Can I help? Can I help in a way that doesn't further the sorrow? Can I make a real difference? Can I change the world so that the problem isn't a problem any more? Is it my problem?

I don't know anyone who doesn't have to give these questions some thought. I never give money; to me money is a resource, and I bear the responsibility if it's misused. So, sometimes I give someone food. But mostly I try to offer what I try to offer anyone...the recognition and acknowledgement of their essential dignity and humanity.

I try not to ignore and look away. There is a man outside Walgreens on the corner of Adams and Wells every day, and I always give him a smile and a cheery good morning. It happened by accident when our eyes first met, and he seemed shocked that I didn't look away, but it was all I could offer. A sincere hello. Another human being admitting that he exists and walks fully among us. That he's not invisible. That we live in different worlds, but are part of this same human family.

I was crossing the street one day, and there was a frail old woman clinging to a lampost. She was obviously distressed and confused, and no one seemed to notice including the traffic cop. I slowed down, and she turned and asked me if I would help her across the streeet. To which I did. She took my arm, hobbled across the street slowly, and when we reached the next corner she let go and walked off, balancing herself against a building. She didn't say a word to me, but I thought how lucky I was to be someone whose simple presence could make a difference.

And that experience has stayed with me and crosses my mind every time I see these folks on the street. Some are scary, some sad, some smelly, some desperate, some dishonest in their begging, some hopeless. I think about my response to them frequently, and can only be someone who stays present ~ who doesn't need to disappear into political rhetoric or economic philosophies about what creates such need, but recognizes another soul sharing this planet with me.

Monday, July 17, 2006


Lester Burnham: I had always heard your entire life flashes in front of your eyes the second before you die. First of all, that one second isn't a second at all, it stretches on forever, like an ocean of time... For me, it was lying on my back at Boy Scout camp, watching falling stars... And yellow leaves, from the maple trees, that lined my street... Or my grandmother's hands, and the way her skin seemed like paper... And the first time I saw my cousin Tony's brand new Firebird... And Janie... And Janie... And... Carolyn. I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me... but it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world. Sometimes I feel like I'm seeing it all at once, and it's too much, my heart fills up like a balloon that's about to burst... And then I remember to relax, and stop trying to hold on to it, and then it flows through me like rain and I can't feel anything but gratitude for every single moment of my stupid little life... You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. But don't worry... you will someday.

American Beauty (1999)

The minute I try to hold onto anything, it takes up residence inside me. On one hand it creates a certain kind of fullness, but on the other hand, it creates a certain kind of heaviness. I think I'm needing to stay light and flexible, not giving anything a permanent home inside me but lightness itself.


There are some things so deeply buried within that simply acknowledging their presence is shocking, especially when it's someone else doing the noticing. Do you know the game Jenga? Basically you have little wooden blocks that different players stack one upon the next, trying to build the tower higher and higher without it toppling. In the game of life, much like Jenga, one well-asked question can topple years of structures built upon a persepctive that you convinced yourself was one thing, but seen through the eyes of another becomes something else entirely.

Some of the blocks I've built upon have come tumbling down recently, and I don't know how to re-build any of that. They've fallen with a simple word, a well-placed pause, a loving question, a sincere concern. Whatever was there isn't necessary any more anyway. I don't yet quite know how to talk about my experiences. I don't know how to speak my way out of the places I've been stuck, although maybe for the first time it's not just reluctance or fear on my part. Maybe that feeling that my breath has been pulled from my lungs and my eyes fill with tears and I can hardly speak - maybe it's fear. But maybe also it's relief. Maybe also it's life flowing back into me. Maybe it's all of this and more.

But one thing I do know for certain - it's good not to be alone in this. And I'm not saying 'no' this time, to any of it.

Getting Caught

I've never worried about getting older, he said. I've been too busy worrying about getting caught.

~ Brian Andreas ~

On some level, for all my independence, I always wonder if I'm just moments away from getting caught. I don't know what it is that I'm getting away with, or what it is that I'll get caught doing, but it's always there, at least a little bit.

I've stood apart from and against so much, defining myself in many ways by what I'm not (although I'm no obvious rebel). It's time to start identifying with what I am more. I want to move to transparency. It's a great idea, that nothing is hidden, that total honesty is possible, that opennes is not a threat to me or anyone else. And I'm so much closer to that than I've been.

I've been the most opaque of individuals on some levels, even to myself. From a distance perhaps I've been crisp and clear, but get closer and lines blur and everything gets a little fuzzy, and what you thought you'd find turns out to be a bit different. Which I'm quite comfortable with. But maybe it's time to try some transparency. The little I've experiemented with so far is marvelous, but I don't know if that's really me making it so.

Could just be the generosity and cleanliness and openness of someone else making it that way for me. And transparency is a huge relief. I had no idea how much I constantly conceal, until I stopped doing it, even just for hours or moments at a time. And I'm so grateful to have discovered this - to have a place and space to try it out. At the moment, I can think of few gifts greater than this that has been offered me.And it's worth investigating further for sure.

There is a seismic change occuring, so I don't think this is a time for securing permanent solutions. It's more a time for learning to surf - learning to catch every wave that comes, ride it for what's it's worth, and be ready for the next one. For a surfer, every storm, no matter how big, is just another opportunity.

Free Your Mind

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.

The Matrix (1999)

I chafe at having to become a "role". I don't really like titles or particular expectations of folks needing me to be/do certain things. I'm more stubborn than is obvious on the surface of things, and have an amazing capacity for digging in my heels and becoming completely unmovable. I don't say this with pride or as a challenge - just an observation about myself. I have walked away from more opportunities than many people ever get in the name of freedom.

Every time I've tried to assume a particlar role, in any part of my life, I've felt stifled and suffocated and resentful and just all twisted up, trying to figure out how to get out of what I've agreed to. I think this is part of the reason wife and mother and all those other titles could never work for me. I cannot bear the weight of what those mean.

I am amazed at who I can be when I have no opposition against which to set myself. In the company of those who are curious and open and adventurous, so much of my own stubborness disappears. Instead, there is enthusiasm and spontaneity and a great sense of fun.

I'm not going back to boxes, trying to make myself fit somewhere by cutting off or cutting out elements of myself to suit another, or even my own sense of who I should be. This life is very short, and no one with whom I want to associate will ask me to do that. With a Taurus Moon, every bit of discomfort I experience plays itself out in my body. I refuse to impose that violence on myself anymore.


Act without doing;
work without effort.
Think of the small as large
and the few as many.

Confront the difficult
while it is still easy;
accomplish the great task
by a series of small acts.

The Master never reaches for the great;
thus she achieves greatness.
When she runs into a difficulty,
she stops and gives herself to it.

She doesn't cling to her own comfort;
thus problems are no problem for her.

Tao Te Ching (Chapter 63; Stephen Mitchetll Translation)

I like to remind myself of simplicity whenever I can. Whenever I'm tempted to step in the middle of confusion or uncertainty, I like to remind myself of the clarity of simplicity. Start small, where I am, where I can, and move forward simply, easily, with my whole heart.

I don't have to know the outcome of every journey before I start - that just makes the journey another task I have to accomplish, and hardens my heart into brittleness 'cause I get too certain of things that probably aren't true or right or useful.

I much prefer the ease of moving like a river along its banks, re-adjusting, altering the course along the way, speeding up and slowing down, but staying true to the forward movement of this journey.


I don't believe in G*d any more than I 'believe' in gravity or cats or traffic lights. There are things I know because of the reality of them in my life, and that is the case here. This relationship I have with G*d doesn't require belief and I don't know that it even requires faith, but it absolutely requires experience.

I don't need religion or dogma or scriptures or clergy to feel the the depth of this love I've barely begun to touch, or to see how it transforms me.

Sunday, July 16, 2006


The serenity that fills my heart.


There has quite literally been a knot of pain residing deep within my body, reflecting pain that exists on other levels of spirit and emotion. And it has contained within it the petrified remains of being petrified. It's amazing how accurate a reflection of spirit the body can be. That knot has been a protection and a barrier, entombing in itself a destructive force that had no resolution and no outlet.

But the knot is unraveling. The waters of love have washed over it time and again, softening all the individual strands that make up this big knot. They are softening and separating; it is breaking up into easily digested and discarded pieces. The need it served is disappearing quickly, although it's taken a long, long time to arrive at this moment. I can feel the strands separating and dissapating, and I can feel each bit of that old pain as it leaves. I can feel it physically and emotionally and spiritually. But I know this is a good-bye, and so I have more patience with it.

And the only thing that seems to be taking its place is a kind of quiet contentment making way for joy.

Friday, July 14, 2006


I'm not any kind of expert at dealing with addiction. But I think changing habits must be a similar thing, when there's some kind of addiction of the mind ~ of the heart. When a habit is so deeply ingrained that you can hardly remember yourself as separate from it, transformation requires that level of attention.

I'm thinking it requires staying absolutely present with yourself. Keeing constant company with your own thoughts so that they don't drag back into old habit - staying awake and alert to every nuance of what's happening, to see triggers and patterns. Exhausting and consuming work really, but a requirement for laying the foundation of something new. And it requires attention to detail on a miniscule level.

In Boston, the major highway system was replaced by tunnels that run under the Boston Bay Harbor. This project was called the Big Dig, and began in 1991, and was just completed a couple of years ago. The new tunnel system has been beset by problems ranging from inferior grade cement to actual leaks in the tunnel. Sadly, the other day, a tie back holding huge concrete slabs broke, and a woman was killed in her car in the tunnel. The level of bad work gets scarier and scarier to Bostonians who ride these tunnels everyday and depend on them. This death is being treated as a crime.

I mention this just to say that when the care and quality of work at the foundation is ignored, everything built on it is compromised. So in trying to change a habit - overcome a mental addiction of sorts - nothing can be ignored, overlooked or disregarded. Attention must be paid to every detail to ensure that the result will be congruent with the foundation, with the intention, with the destination.

There are no big leaps with this kind of change. The progress moves forward in teeny tiny increments, leaving one small thing behind as the head and heart and hands grasp onto something new. Grand proclamations of change are meaningless against the backdrop of ordinary life, where the tests emerge again and again. And the tests are not designed so that you fail. They are just there to show you where more work is needed, where there is skill and strength, and where additional effort is required.

And if you're serious about this change, then you welcome the tests and every bit if understanding they illuminate for you. Because you're not doing this to prove something to someone else. You're really learning about the self and a certain kind of mastery that requires absolute truth and awareness.

Thursday, July 13, 2006

Karma Continued..

I think what I left out in my earlier post is love. How important it is to bring love into all of this. Action for the right reason without the energy of love behind it stops being right action. It may look 'right' but it won't nurture anyone, and the return of it won't nurture the self. Force, discipline, obligation, morality don't work here.

For real transformation to occur...for our actions to change, and the return of them to be different, and then our fortune and so our future...this requires love. Not anything that you can fake either. The absolute requirement of the soul is for love to fill us and to spill into our relationships. And where that's missing, there is always sorrow as the end result. Always.

Love that nurtures and feeds one at the expense of another is not true love. It may be romantic love or desire or need, but it is not true love. True love elevates everyone and everything it touches. It's easy to see. It's the easiest thing to see and feel and recognize.


I am not one of the people that make things happen exactly...I am someone who enables others to make things happen. I understand energy more than personal dynamics. And one of the fundamental principles of energy is the Law of Karma, the Law of Action - the Law of Action and Reaction.

Karma is a simple energetic, basically scientific, principle and it says that for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction (also Newton's Third Law of Motion). Meaning that whatever you do, it comes back to you. The final responsibility of whatever happens in our lives falls back to us. However tempting it is to find blame or fault anywhere else - in others, in circumstances, in whatever. So there's no room for blame - just for acknowldedgement and potential change.

And each of us has that same responsibility. We don't get to use understanding as a weapon against another - to say that someone is suffering because of their own actions. We are all suffering from the same kinds of sorrow, and in understanding how we add to each other's burdens we can maybe stop hurting ourselves and each other. Thinking that the sorrow exists only in another, or that it's someone else's weakness and not mine creates a completely artificial sense of protection and security. We aren't safe from pain because someone else is carrying that burden more obviously than us.

Our protection is our own virtue, our own integrity, our own choice to do the right thing, to be the right person, to live the right way. And we do know what that is. We each have a space inside of us that remains pure and clear enough to know the difference between what is harmful and helpful, to the self and others. Support and reinforcement is needed to be strong enough to act on it, but we do know it in our hearts.

So - I don't make things happen, I don't change the narrative flow of life, but I hope to always stand in a place that enables others to more easily bring their full potential into reality, to see themselves at their best and enjoy that so much that they want to create and experience even more of it.