Tripped by An Angel

The fall happened,
pain seared through
the already injured
shoulder, another skin tear.

The world shifted.
Is this it, the unsteadiness
the weakness
the pain?

But dawn came.
There’s a follow-up with
the chiropractor
this morning, perfect!

The skin tear, we’re out
anyway, let’s visit the
Wound Doctor
on the way home.

He finds the blood blister
we’ve been ignoring.
Necrotic he says.
WHAT?

Without the fall
without that shoulder visit
without that skin tear
we’d not have known.

An angel tripped him.
led us along to find the
perfect help before it was
too late.

Wow!

 

I am  reminded how we are being helped, not always in the way we expect. But, always moving us, blessing us.  Like the parable of the Chinese farmer, you can’t judge an event without knowing the whole picture. The one we never have at the moment. Good comes from the terrible. Just when we think we’ve got it made, something happens.

We’re on the roller coaster of life, to judge is to add suffering to the ride. In stead we could stay in the “wow” as Ram Dass recently said. Wow, look at this! I wonder what’s next?

about distraction, light sides and dark sides….

I’m noticing my windows need cleaning…
the sun will do that to you.
We crave the light only to find
dust bunnies under the table.

There’s always something
pulling you out of joy.
Noticing turns into
a “to do” list,

or an irritant, how
it should be different.
The mind
having free rein

drags you
into perpetual
discontent, blind to
life’s magic.

Reverse course
Let wonder humble you
See with curiosity.
Get yourself lost,

make love, be intimate
with what’s around you.
Engage the world always
for the first time.

And that bird is….oh, just a robin.

 

 

“Maybe it doesn’t want to be identified.”
    from The New Yorker Jan. 9, 2017

 

 

Maybe, just maybe, “it” doesn’t want to be identified because once it is, people stop paying attention.
“Oh, just a robin.”

We all yearn to be seen and understood. Yet too often, once we “identify” someone or something as being a certain way, we stop paying attention. We never really see them again, blind to who they are now. We see what we expect to see. We stop being curious.

True, we come by labeling legitimately. Identifying things and making distinctions have been key to surviving: knowing a poisonous mushroom from a morel ; a copperhead from a harmless garter snake, a stranger from a member of your tribe.   It’s how primitive man (and woman) lived long enough to discover the world. An unidentified difference equaled a perceived threat until someone, brave enough, curious enough, got to know it.

Practically, the ability to identify something also means we don’t have to think about everything all the time. “I know [fill in the blank]. It’s OK.”   It’s the practical side of stereotyping.  You don’t have to start from scratch. You draw on your experience, cultural norms, what you’ve been taught. You can build up a “that is safe” pile. But then, by default, you also have a “that is dangerous” pile you tend to fear.

So what’s the downside?  Our preconceived notions limit our experience of the world, as well as our experience of people.

When labels or how we identify something becomes the primary mode of interacting, we stop experiencing life. You see what you remember as being there, what you think should be there: the uniqueness and diversity within groups is missed, change unnoticed, exceptions dismissed if seen at all.

So yes, “that’s a robin.”  But maybe it doesn’t want to be identified, categorized, put in a box.

Try getting curious.  Let yourself be surprised. Notice, what’s different about this robin.

In relationship you experience life!

And Religious Freedom is…..?

Warning: Written after reading about, and pondering, Trump’s draft on defining religious freedom. This post is blasphemous. It may offend you. Don’t read it. I just have to write it.

Sometimes I think the human species is like a fetus: full of potential. But, if the Life that holds it decides, it can be ended.

Like spoiled children we will fight to the death over our special knowing of God and His truth. We cannot conceive of a God bigger than our own religion, our own experience; it’s too scary. We have to be right, others have to be wrong. Complexity makes us uneasy, angry even.

We’ve grown in technology, our economy has spread across oceans, our science has discovered constellations and black holes….yet, we cling to our small notion of God. He couldn’t have blessed the Christian, the Buddhist, the Hindu, and of course not the Muslim, right? And the traditions of Native Indians? Well they were primitive, and in the wrong place at the wrong time.

We hold to the belief that there is only one path to God. And that path is, of course, through our particular Savior, Prophet, Enlightened One. We can’t even consider that God might delight in being discovered in a temple, in an ashram, a cathedral, a mosque or even just in silence. We can’t consider the possibility that He can send His Son with no intention of setting Him up in competition with Buddha.   We forget that all of life, all over the globe is His creation. Our God is small….

We’re not content to live our beliefs. We must convince others they are wrong. And if they don’t agree, force them…through law, through domination. When religion marries government, it can only go off. A sign the fruits of our beliefs are so weak, living them is not enough. God’s justice is not enough. We must intervene.

Abortion is the hot button. Murder! Yet we manage to put it in a different category than all the other life/death choices made. Choices made according to the criteria we’ve determined are right: collateral damage happens; who gets the kidney;  when profit is more important then clean water/air. We have fought righteous wars over sugar, land, oil. We argue over whether should there be a death penalty. We eat meat because we can (we’ve dominion over them).  God evidently set it up so we’d have to make choices, deal with gray areas.  We don’t like it.  

I think it’s why we focus so determinedly on abortion. Here we can be self righteous in our interpretation of “Thou shalt not kill.”  It’s emotional – a baby after all (or a potential baby). In it’s defense, we can put aside the times when we’ve made trade-offs about which life matters most.  In a world that is complex and messy, maybe we need to grab onto something that doesn’t immediately affect us. It’s a relief to focus on someone else’s womb, someone else’s choice.

I realize the irony of this post, pushing my beliefs in the name of Truth, as others do theirs. People I respect, who are sincere in their beliefs. People who don’t believe we can coexist: that someone has to win, one religion and it’s laws dominate.  I hope they are wrong.

In the meantime, be true to yourself. I know I will.

Today is the Day

Words always compromise the experience we’re having. But we try anyway.Image result for inauguration day
What is being present: now, today? What is being aware, awake, fully alive? How do you experience it? What does all this mean in difficult times anyway?

TODAY’S THE DAY

Cheers erupt
in triumph.
Tears fall
in disappointment.
Fears hover in the
shadow of what’s to come.

But I feel a place
of stillness, just
Spacious Stillness.

From here I know
love in action.
From here I know
it’s only in our
wandering off
that we forget

we’re connected.
Mirrors for each other,
loved by the very Universe
we’re scared of.
Loved beyond our possessions,
successes, our failures.

Hell is not being crucified!
Jesus died in love,
connecting and forgiving.
He died showing us
how to live…
no matter what…

It’s all about the Love
you are, the Love that you can share.
the Love that’s beyond understanding.

Peace!

Peace Descending

Again while praying, I asked Mary if I understood. This came:

Mary at the cross
Mary holding the infantPeace.JPG
The circle of life
spiraling into the Wisdom
that we’re all a part of,
becoming conscious of,
resisting with all our might.

Less is more.
A nanosecond
holds the Universe.
Knowing the way through
to just be here
in love.
We can relax.

Love, not squishy
nor weak,
the Fierce Love
of everything
playing it’s role
to awaken us.
from the inside out.

[Sculpture: “Peaceful Form” by Thomas A. Yano]

Fall Musings – life and gardens

img_1131I feel like my garden looks. A bit overgrown, unruly. Goldenrod spreading and hanging over more modest plants.   Asters coming into img_1129their own but falling over as if to spread their beauty. The cherry tomato plant pumping out the last fruit of the season…a little smaller and more irregularly shaped. A bit of chaos I think I should do something about.

Vulnerabilityimg_1126 is an interesting visitor. It comes with the unexpected, with events you can’t control.  A native plant with its own notions of how it should be, a death, the changes of aging, the space of retirement…. Always there is a perceived loss: of routine, of control, a change that shifts your life in some way you don’t quite understand. If this could happen, what else?

You tighten waiting for the proverbial “other shoe to drop.¨  You feel suspended in the in between times. You long for what you only remember as being neat and orderly.

It’s too easy for me in times of change to try and control everything. I hover over those I care about. I pull in. My mind gallops along, running the race of its life, planning for everything.  How do I divide the ‘Autumn Joy’ Sedum, maybe there are native flowers that don’t grow to 6 ft. tall.   If I can figure out the perfect plants…

But then I go back out to the garden and remember. The uncontrolled, the wild and untamed can be img_1130beautiful if you stop thinking it should be something else.  If I let go of the “shoulds” about gardens, the memories of how it was when it was new and tame, the fear of what it will morph into, I see the beauty of it just as it is. It’s the judging that robs the seasons of their beauty, and most importantly, their place in life.

Fall teaches us to hold on lightly, to let go of what’s done, to love what is. I’m letting it sink in.

The Importance of Distinctions

What’s the difference between trust and faith?  In talking with a friend recently, she referred to faith as the concept she connects with God. It got me thinking about something I’ve told myself for a long time.

Some background: I always thought I had a trust issue with God. I questioned if He’d be there for me, as I knew he was there for everyone else.  Feeling alone as a child, I thought I’d too often prayed to God and didn’t get an answer. It was a story I  knew well.

This morning in meditation however, I realized something different.img_0532

Faith:     1) Complete trust or confidence in someone or something;
2) a strong belief in God or in the doctrines of a religion, based on a spiritual apprehension [understanding] rather than proof. (from Merri-Webster)

I do have faith that there is something bigger than me, a Divine Presence who created the Universe, Who is behind its magnificent unfolding. So often in my life I’ve experienced grace, help that came to me when I needed it, something that seemed a problem working out for the best….    So where does this lack of trust in God come from? What is it about?

Trust: a firm belief in the sincerity, reliability, skill & ability, and credibility of someone (from my Newfield Network training).

My “aha” moment:  A child’s parents are like gods to them. Totally dependent, you accept much of what goes on as the truth about how the world works. Wouldn’t God treat you as your parents did (our Father who art in Heaven?)  It hit me that my trust issue was never with God but with my parents. Growing up, I felt I wasn’t enough….I gained favor through my accomplishments not for who I was (or at least as I interpreted it).

I didn’t trust my parents to love me with all my flaws, with my thinking differently, with my being trust1emotional (seen as weak), nor with having my own way in life. I didn’t trust them to support me the way I wanted/needed to be supported at that time.  And, I confused them with God.

So even as my faith has grown stronger, there’s been this lingering notion of not trusting God to be there for me. This, in spite of all the ongoing evidence.  Today, I know my parents did love me the best they knew how. I learned much from them. But they weren’t gods.

So understanding the distinction between trust and faith has been freeing for me.sky9-512

It’s allowed me to let go of a story I’ve lived with very long time.

Grace in action. smiley

I’m Tired

I’m Tired

A thousand sorrowsIMG_0947
Arrows piercing
No one thing to pull out

In these days of instant gratification
Grieving makes no sense
Malingering, grayness,
Being tired of it all

Just take a pill
Proclaim your faith
Move on
Except

It doesn’t work
And the sadness becomes an
Irritating backdrop
To life

I no longer really know why I’m tired,
Easily Irritated,
wanting “it” to all to go away
Politics, killings, crummy drivers…

Don’t make more work for me
Don’t ask anything more of me
Don’t get sick or die on me

–I’m tired
besliter 7/2016

Life doesn’t wait for us to be ready. It keeps moving and we sometimes have to run to keep up. When I’m off center lately it feels like I’m on the edge, ready to fly off….crash and burn. I can’t slow down and do the things I believe would make a difference: meditate, exercise, trust that there is more going on then I can possibly know and that love does triumph.IMG_0550

I don’t think I’m manic depressive, more manically depressed. I judge all this as abnormal. I want to go back to what felt like a normal state before loss, but I’m deeply suspicious that can ‘t happen. I have to let go of what was familiar and safe. And I don’t want to.

Grieving

I feel discombobulated. Grieving, yes. Fatigued after tracking bills, going to Doctors, organizing volumes of paper into files, yes. Helping my stepdaughter sell her house and move, yes. Looking over my husband’s shoulder to see how he was doing, yes.  But it’s more, more than the long list of what happened.

It’s too many endings, no obvious beginnings, feeling lost in space. The unrest raising questions about life: why are we here, what’s the bigger picture?  What does it mean to be alone and to see that possibility on the horizon. Are we here to surrender or to choose what we want? If you give up getting into heaven, what’s left? I don’t mean the polar opposite, but rather can you get excited about coming back to do all this again?tREE

We are getting ready to scatter Kelly’s ashes next week. The spot is a park near Bowling Green, Ky called Phil Moore Park. Joseph’s cousin has been involved with the park since her son ran track around the perimeter. (he’s now taking his medical boards so it has been a while.) There is a tree we “donated” with Kelly’s name on it.  Our tree died, Kelly’s is flourishing. The park has family connections and is the only place Joseph thought was a fit.

Both of us are coming to grip with all that transpired over the past four months, over the past year and a half, and even over her life. She passed May 12th. She would have been 55 on May 16th.

What keeps coming home to me is how complex a person’s life is. How many different lens you can see it through, and while looking through one, how you miss “the rest of the story.”

spiderweb2My lens are many. Much was triggered. I’ll be writing about my questions, my learning, at least I think I will.  It’s a way to process, to come to peace with paradox and complexity.
Everything written will be just a point in time seen through a lens. Not the truth, not a lie…..just a story to make sense of experiences; writing to sort through the intertwining of lives.