Week Twenty-Two - Memorial Day Gratitude

I grew up in a military family.... Air Force... the branch that loves to go off into the wild, blue yonder.  Memorial Day celebrations were a huge part of my childhood.  Generally big parades, laying on of the wreaths, fly-overs, and taps, all focused on honoring those who made the ultimate sacrifice for us and our freedom.    I’ve also  been to these celebrations in many different cities in the United States as well as overseas.  All one has to do is travel to another part of the world to truly appreciate the privileges our forefathers and military have fought to obtain for us.  No Memorial Day left a greater impact on me, than the one spent in our nations capital at Arlington National Cemetery, witnessing endless rows of white crosses spilling over the horizon, .  The enormity of the price paid for us to live in freedom is unimaginable and the tangible reflection, on those hallowed grounds, is overpowering.  Even as a child I felt a surge of gratitude and awe.    

I will be the first to confess to whining and complaining about our government, the state of our economy, the current climate of division, narcissism and pettiness.  It seems I do it more than I should these days.  Maybe this is something I should change.... or maybe not..... I am allowed a voice here in this United States of America.  First and foremost, I am not going to be jailed for all my complaining.  I have freedom of speech.  I also have the freedom to read any book I choose, own property, and start my own business.  I am free to worship within any religion I want and choose my own version of God, or not. I am free to gather with other like-minded Americans and peacefully protest.  This list could go on and on.  

Sure, we all hear of an exception to the rule, and could march this out as an example of how democracy isn’t working.  We can choose to see that our rights are slowly being taken away from us, and I have been guilty of that mindset from time to time too.  Yet in this country, no one can take away our rights, unless we allow them to.  Unless..... we become complacent about voting, not being proactive in our political system;  even at a local level.  We can make a difference too.  We are free to demonstrate, write our Congressmen, speak and write... out loud, promote, and come together for change and our better tomorrow.  This is how much of our change has been implemented.  You don’t like the current policies and laws, make a sacrifice, speak out, stop buying, stop donating, stop participating, be a mosquito caught inside your Congressman's shirt, make some noise,  stop electing.  The easier softer way doesn’t really lead to strength and change, it leads to complacency, and mindlessness.  Think about the sense of values of the service men and woman who gladly went to war to protect human rights, yours and mine.  What about those sacrifices....their lives. We can give our voices, our time, our protestations, our votes.   

The greatest generations continue to protect and treasure those rights,  fight to keep, and honor those things this country was founded on... “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights, that among these are Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness ...

WooHoo to this great country of ours, just as it is, and,  for all of its potential.  

WooHoo to men and women everywhere who are willing to unconditionally sacrifice all, to keep us free and safe.  May our Creator  continue to bless America. 

My gratitude this week is for the gift of exposure to the price of freedom reflected in many Memorial Days.   It's taught my heart that nothing worth having has ever been obtained without some degree of sacrifice, integrity, and comittment.   I grew up on this poem and to this day,  I am always moved to tears by the last line. 

 HIGH FLIGHT

Oh! I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings;
Sunward I’ve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
of sun-split clouds, — and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of—wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hov’ring there,
I’ve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air....
Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
I’ve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark nor even eagle flew—
And, while with silent lifting mind I’ve trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

John Gillespie Magee

Week Twenty-One - Do what you love - Reminders from the Dancing Queen -WooHoo....

This weekend was the annual dance recital my two younger grand-daughters participate in every year.  The oldest one took dance for five years, and a few years ago decided she just didn’t want to do it anymore.  As with most things she does, she did it well, but it was apparent her last year, her enjoyment had waned.  It wasn’t that her technique and form wasn’t impeccable, but the delight at performing had been erased from her face.  She looked miserable.  She’s moved forward and trying on other interests to express her creativity.  That’s what kids should be encouraged to do;  experiment.   So many parents live vicariously through their off-spring.  While there is nothing wrong with watching your child pursue something you loved as well in your youth, it’s selfish to pound home your own lost dreams into shapes that don’t fit; taking the square peg and working the edges to fit into the circle, with your children.   A bloodline doesn’t make for common interests and talents.  Mommy and daddy don’t do that in this household.  Oh, I am sure there is a part of daddy that hopes for an athlete out of the three, and mommy of course wants a singer, musician, performer or designer.  Nonetheless, these kids are encouraged to try a variety of things, and instructed that when they do something, they give it their best shot for a good amount of time.  No quitting. Then, if they still find they aren’t deriving something positive, or finding pleasure in it, they can move on.   These girls have dabbled in quite a number of hobbies, sports, and arts.   Sydney, my middle grandchild has discovered her niche.  She is passionate about dance.  

When she’s home, and has spare time, she’s dancing.  Or, practicing her kicks, splits, and moves. She really dances everywhere.  Even in play, her body moves in the form of a dance.  For her birthday, the gift she wanted the most was a simple stretchy chord.  It fits over a doorway and is a tool to practice stretching your leg muscles, so you can kick higher and be more flexible.  Seriously!  No toys, no games... a stretchy chord. Clearly dance is her love.  She mimics the dancers on Dancing With The Stars, and practices her stage smile with every move.  She really doesn’t have to work at the smile. Once her body begins to move, her cheeks burst forth and the corners of her mouth stretch wide like arms reaching out, dancing in joy.  BIG SMILE!   Her sassiness and delight in moving, posing, and allowing her body to simply flow into forms, is infectious.   She drew everyone in at the recital.   She also basks in all of the admiration and I think she derives genuine pleasure in entertaining.  The attention drives her to work harder and be more creative.   

I was in awe of her.... Her assurance, while on that stage, was palpable and reverberated in every tap of her little shoes.  I don’t ever recall having that kind of self-confidence, especially at age nine.  It was both astonishing and mesmerizing to watch.  

There were a few takeaway messages as I left the recital.  First, when we are doing what we love, it all comes naturally to us.  It's when we are in that space, we make our  most divine contribution to others.  Second, there is as much, if not more, delight in watching someone you loves’ greatness evolve as there is in realizing our own dreams.  It’s a healthy way of vicariously living through others. When we are watching someone else’s passion come to life,  it conjures up those feelings of delight in finding our own purpose and breathes new life into our commitment to live what we love.  What could possibly be better than to know so undeniably, you are doing exactly what you were created to do?  That is what I saw and felt watching Miss Sydney on stage.  

WooHoo to the pursuit of doing what you love and the rest will follow.  

Week Nineteen - Super Moon Blinded me to my WooHoo

This week I’m scratching for a woohoo.  I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. I’m not.  I wouldn’t need to even put much thought into making a list of blessings. First, and foremost, God’s never ending presence and protection in my life.  I have a place to live. Perhaps it isn’t where I want to be, but it must be where God needs me to be, for now.  It keeps me warm and dry and it is rather comfortable inside, even if it is falling down around my head on the outside.  I have more food than I need; witness that stubborn little cushy stuff around my belly that refuses to budge.  I have a beautiful little family.  Small, but their hearts are enormous, and it's reflected in their love for me.  Quality as opposed to quantity.  I’ve had an amazing life. Just writing about those few things evoke feelings of humility and thankfulness.  God’s grace over the years is a topic I could write about non-stop for the rest of my days. Maybe I should.  

 So, what’s up? Could it have been the Super Moon last Saturday night?  This moon wasn’t just full, it was closer to the earth and brighter than it will be the rest of 2012.  I was out of town, maybe it seemed larger there. I stood outside at 2 a.m., mesmerized by its enormity and brilliant, vibrating light.  That may have played a role in my restless state.  Too much moonlight and the tides in my mind have come rushing in overwhelming me some.   I’m slightly disappointed in what I perceive to be my lack of progress.  I’m not good at this waiting stuff, nor, do I particularly enjoy monotony in my life.  Intellectual and social stimulation as well as getting out into this world to see what's new, are badly needed transfusions to my soul right now.   I seem to be trapped in this cage with the career path, money, and new environments beyond my reach.... for now.  That's just a fact.  But, I am applying all my best "wishes fulfilled principles" and envisioning my abundance, prosperity, and lots of love.  Intellectual stimulation; I can’t afford to take a class.  Social stimulation;  I live in a very small town and have been unable to get rid of my house and move elsewhere. Bottom line, sadly, I think, is the area I live in is conducive to predictability, and routine.  I suppose there's a beauty in that for some.  Occasionally, I have wished I was the kind of person who comfortably settles into sameness, plodding along with the same scenery, routine, and people.   It's just not who I am.  I love change, new experiences, and engaging, provocative personalities to spend time with.  I’m disgruntled too.  In no way does that mean I want to give up, it just means perhaps its time to take some different approaches in the hopes of seeing a different result.  I don’t know what that is, yet and because I don't, it  has me immobilized some. 

When I get restless like this, it’s my pattern to want to hole up, isolate and just listen into the silence for some direction.  While I know too much time alone isn’t good for my sanity, and in the past I have done that more often than I should have- - - shut off and down- -  some reflection does work in centering me again and often reveals new ideas.  I was reading something the other day by a young 20 something year old writer. It was an exercise to stimulate creativity and acknowledge growth.  I liked it and thought  at the very least, taking the time to do it, should show me areas of personal growth and maybe even enlighten me some. Nothing remains the same nor should it. 

This exercise calls for a counseling session with a decade younger me. I am going to take a look back, over my life in ten year segments (Lordy, I have a few of them) Maybe that will help put my journey in perspective, and allow me to see, everything arrives when we are ready for it, including the wisdom.    So, what would 28 year old Becky say to 18 year old me?  What would I tell 28 year old Becky at 38? You get the picture.... Stay tuned over the next few weeks.  If nothing else, it's writing practice.  

In the meantime, my Woohoo for the week is focused on family.  

1.  My step-mom who hosted me last weekend.  We talked non-stop for two full days.  We always do, no matter how much time we spend with each other.  I’ve spent two weeks on vacation with her, and we still didn’t run out of things to say!    I am so blessed to have this kind of connection with her and I know it. 

2.  My littlest granddaughter’s first tee ball game, ever.   Pink batting caps and all, these little girls did a fine job.  I fear the competitor in her has overridden her honest nature.  She told me the biggest fish story when I arrived at the game into the second inning.  She got LOTS OF HOME RUNS she said. 

3.  My middle granddaughter’s first game of the season, and she pitched.  She is a pip-squeak with the heart of a bull.  She really  drilled it in there a few times.  

4.  My oldest grand-daughter’s first band concert, ever.  She’s in fifth grade and following in her mom’s lip-prints, playing her mother’s old trumpet from high school. They sounded pretty good.... seriously! 

5.  My daughter, son-in-law and three girls for hosting me for a cookout Sunday, on Mother’s Day.  Anything on a grill is real treat for me, since I don’t have one.  Burgers, asparagus, and grilled pineapple.... awesome.  And, just to contribute to my commitment to exercise excellence, I got a new Yoga Ball and Yoga bag!  I think I am hanging up those running shoes.  Who’s idea was it to put a 5K on my bucket list anyway?   I think it was that shadow me, the people pleaser, trying to fit in or impress. I love watching those graceful gazelle types run.   On me, it just looks like I'm getting ready to go into an apocalyptic fit. I now think it was that sense of achievement I was seeking.  I can do that mastering a Zumba dance, increasing the resistance on my bike in spin class,  or breathing further into a stretch with Yoga practice.  I’m at that life stage, if it isn’t fun or gentle on the spirit and joints, I’m really not all that interested.  I've already walked enough of the pain = gain path in my lifetime.   Hey, that sounds like something 58 year old me will be telling those other me’s.  Be authentic. 

6.  Oh, and a late breaking woohoo.  My brother called and left me a message.   He wants me to come back out to heaven for a visit.  What better place to be inspired than the vitality, and ethereal beauty of Carmel, Big Sur, and Monterey?  Really, I think if he had his way, he would love to see me move there. Writing on the cliffs overlooking the sea, well, that's the stuff my dreams are made of.   If I could pick up the rest of the little family and move them along too, I wouldn't even look back over my shoulder!  

WooHoo to the one constant in my life, the love of my  family.  It is truly unconditional. Their support of me has always been present, even when they didn't agree with my actions, or like my decisions.  And, that is the perfect reflection of God's love for me.... loving me no matter what.    ALWAYS.   What a lucky lady I am to be enveloped in this kind of acceptance. WooHoo.

Week Eighteen -Any man can be a father, but it takes a REAL MAN to be a Daddy.......

Barbie attends the Football Game- The life
of a Manly-Man with three daughters....

 One of the best young men I know turned 38 last week.  My son-in-law.  I’ve not written about him yet. So often we take the faithful and consistent things for granted.   When he and my daughter first met, I liked him a great deal, but my husband was enamored from the first phone call.  First off, he called him, “Sir” and asked him if it was okay, to call after 9 p.m.  Manners, a rare trait for a young college student!   I also remember the night she first met him.  She woke me from a sound sleep, stars in her eyes and said, “Mom, I met a nice boy.”   Those were her exact words... a nice boy.  At first introduction, I knew she was right. 

They dated for a few years while she was still in College.  He graduated and began working in his chosen career.  She was still undecided about her major, life, and what she really wanted to be when she grew up.  Finally, graduation day loomed for her and a wedding was on the horizon a few months later.  He became a beloved leaf on a limb of this very complicated, multi- branched, family tree of ours.  Simply figuring the connections between his new wife and her many sets of grandparents, gave him an A+ in our eyes in the art of adaptability.  To top it all off, he and his new bride were dealing with the illness and pending death of her beloved step-dad, his new father-in-law.  Some pretty large emotional challenges for a young man entering a state of union and new living arrangements too.  Dealing with the grief  (his own as well) of such a profound loss,  could have been overwhelming for many weaker knee’d men.  Not for Scott.  He stepped up, tucked his new bride under one arm and her mother under another, and comforted his, new extended family.  

I had my concerns early on, in those dating years.  Rather than being two peas in a pod, they seemed to be polar opposites.   She loved to spend money, lots of money... He was tighter than a new pair of leather shoes.  She was a drama queen.  He was practical and even keel.  She had huge goals for herself and their future.  He was content with what he had, right in front of him.   What I later came to recognize is in the  things that mattered, they clicked.  They both desired God be at the center of their marriage and knew how important it was to share their spiritual lives.  They both couldn’t wait to be parents.  They enjoyed each other’s company.  They enjoyed other people’s company;  their friends, and families.  They both were kind, giving people; concerned about their fellow man and interested in making a difference in their little community.   And when the children came, each one, I was in awe of their parenting skills, the pride they took in their girls and their desire to raise, nice, young women...together.  With the things that were important, love and values, they were a match made in heaven.  

From the beginning, Scott was a hands on daddy, getting up in the middle of the night, feeding, changing diapers and rocking babies back to sleep.  He stuck his little girls in a little pouch that hung on the front of his body, and hauled them around the house with him, while he did his work.  He bathed them, washed their hair, blew it dry and combed it.  When they got older, and mommy was away for the weekend, he would devise special games;  daddy and his girls time, catching lightening bugs in Mason jars, running around outside in the dark.  He arranged treasure hunts, and let them somersault off the coach onto the cushions on the floor.  They put the sleeping bags in the living room and had a camp out, with movies.   It was their secret adventure.  Shhh.... no telling mommy.  

As a husband, this is a man, who leaves little notes of endearment on the computer screen, waiting to be pulled up and make his wife's day.  Messages of support and love via text message, and hand written loving thoughts, treasures to be pulled up on those rainy days all relationships have.  He gives massages, (even feet) and has the wine and  warm baths ready.   He encourages her to be the best she can be, in her business, and it’s not at all unique for him to give a sales pitch to one of his own co-workers, or clients tooting her horn loudly and drumming up some future business for her! 

At work, his patients know the names of his children, the things they like, and their unique little personalities.  Frequently my daughter will encounter one of his patients only to  have them ask how Sydney’s dance routine is coming, or if Alex still is begging for a phone for her birthday.  He’s proud of his family and it’s reflected in every area of his life.  This in no way diminishes his professionalism or popularity as a therapist.  I swear he has treated every member of our small community, and the first words out of everyone’s mouth when they find out, I am his mother-in-law, is, “ Scott's  a a great guy, I just love him.”   He is the celebrity therapist locally.

Some of his best qualities are his sense of fairness, integrity in all his dealings, honesty (sometimes painfully so), his love of family:  all the way down to his cousins, his ability to not take ANYTHING personal and his acceptance of life on life’s terms.  He is happy where he is, never restless, always willing to lend a hand to a friend and neighbor.  His love for God, his wife and little girls shines brightly.   And, his patience living in a household of four females, borders on award winning.  This is a  true manly man, who sits through dance recitals, little girl meltdowns, mood swings, mermaid dolls in his bathtub, and Princess band aids for everyone’s boo-boo’s. This is a man who can’t even watch his beloved football without Barbie and family stopping by to watch the game with him.  

 I couldn’t pick a better husband for my daughter, or father for my granddaughters. I know his    qualities and expression of unconditional love are the things those little girls will look for in a future mate.  I can hear it now, “He’s a nice guy, but he  sure doesn’t hold a candle to my dad!”  

Woo Hoo  to this man who has set the bar high when it comes to the Measure of a Man for our beloved girls! 

Not- How did he die? But - How did he live? 

Not - What did he gain? But - What did he give?  

These are the things that measure the worth 

Of a man as a man, regardless of birth.

Not- what was his station?  But- had he a heart?

And - How did he play his God-given part?

Was he every ready with a word of good cheer?

To bring back a smile, to banish a tear?

Not what was his church?  Not - What was his creed?

But - Had he befriended those really in need?

Not- What did the sketch in the newspaper say?

But- How many were sorry when he passed away?

These are the things that measure the worth - 

Of a man, as a man, regardless of birth.

Week Seventeen- Beautiful small things.....WooHoo!

Thought provoking Art by
Georgia O'Keeffe- Blue Flower

This was a paragraph in one of my morning meditation readings last week. 

Someone once asked the artist Georgia O'Keeffe why her paintings magnified the size of small objects - the petals on a flower - making them appear larger than life, and reduced the size of large objects - like mountains - making them smaller than life. "Everyone sees the big things," she said. "But these smaller things are so beautiful and people might not notice them if I didn't emphasize them."

Why do we spend so much time focusing on the big things in our lives?  Tapping our foot impatiently and waiting around for the proverbial ship to come in.  Then life will be really good. 

I’ve had lots of those big blessings.  A life of travel, adventure, my soulmate, big gifts, great jobs, plenty of attention.... I can tell you this, looking back over its course, those things were phenomenal and I am grateful.  But,  if you ask me what the most beautiful site I witnessed in the two months I traveled through Italy and France a few years ago, it wouldn’t be the Louvre, Leaning Tower of Pisa, the Casino at Monaco, or even the Vatican.  My most moving, memorable experience was in the small town of Assisi, Italy, standing before the tomb of St. Francis.  The energy of that humble saint reached out and touched my soul in a way I am incapable of describing and doing the experience justice.   So simple.  It imprinted my life. 

If you ask me what my most memorable moment was with my beloved soulmate.  It wouldn’t be the vacations to Mexico, Seattle,  or London.  It wouldn’t be the diamond tennis bracelet, nor the red convertible.  The picture that comes to mind?  Sitting sandwiched between his brother, on our bed, during the final months in his battle with colon cancer;  holding hands, and watching a DVD of The Titanic. I can still close my eyes and recall how his hand felt in mine, its warmth, and how the room vibrated with laughter, tears (mine - the guys didn’t cry) and palpable love.  So simple.  Just a thought away. 

I’ve felt so joyful this week.  Every day.... someone has made mine.  I didn’t win the HGTV dream home contest, nor book my cruise with Dr. Wayne Dyer and Company to Greece, Turkey, and Italy for October of this year:  and the Publishers Clearing House didn’t arrive on my door with balloons, confetti, and a ginormous check in the amount of 1 million dollars.  

Small beautiful things wafted into my days. 

 I took the two youngest girls to see The Lorax in 3D.  We bought our tickets, got our 3D glasses.  The little one grabbed a booster seat, and we settled in with our smuggled in snacks hiding out in my giant handbag.   This was the first time the little one had been to a 3D movie.  Her sister and I giggled.  Her tiny frame was elevated by the booster so she could see over the seat in front of her.  Her dark glasses nestled onto her button nose and she munched her popcorn.  She was so intent.  The previews ran, and then the movie started.  The first image leapt out at the audience Real 3D fashion.  Her reaction was priceless.  She pressed her small body back against the seat trying to avoid a collision with visions reaching out at her,  and in a five year old baritone voice  (I know, I didn’t know a five year old possessed baritone vocal chords either) she said, “Whoa”  Priceless. 

Of all places to uncover  more priceless treasures, mine appeared on Facebook in the form of few posts from my employer and a few friends.  

Apparently, Wednesday was Administrative Professionals Day.  A fabulous gift certificate to a local restaurant was a surprise, but an even greater shock, was to discover my bright shiny face, on my employer’s page wishing me a Happy Day.     I had no idea, until I began to get emails and "likes".  It was wonderful and that day,  I felt like if God had a refrigerator, my picture would be on it!  Instead my employer had a Facebook page and my picture was on it! 

Thursday morning, a very sweet friend, with a wonderful sense of humor,  left the most awesome video clip on my Facebook wall.  He makes me laugh every time I see him.   His message read, “I can totally see you doing this!! If I hook up some music, r u game?”  You can access the clip here:  

http://www.godvine.com/Dance-Like-Nobody-s-Watching-a-One-Girl-Flash-Mob-at-the-Mall-1422.html

What a delight.  The best part, he could see me doing that.  My sense of adventure and joy in  life must be apparent again.  WooHoo!  The small, beautiful thing was the reminder, we can all spread a whole heck of a lot of joy, anywhere at any time.  

Georgia O'Keeffe's Pink Moon
 Blue Lines

My most poignant,  beautiful moment of the week arrived last evening via Facebook again.  There it is again.... FACEBOOK.  I may have to rethink my negative attitude about the pretense of real human connection Facebook falsely tries to offer up. (Nahhhh....)  But,  beautiful things can show up in the most bizarre of places and  even technology can’t diminish them.   My little soul sister, almost thirty years my junior, announced the opening of her dream come true.  She has put herself out there, worked hard and is opening her own Art/Education/Entertainment venue in Chicago.  Her announcement was followed by the statement,  “I am doing what I know I want to do, for the rest of my life.” Big happy tears of joy flowed for her.  Now, that IS one of those “Mountain Moments” in her life!  But, this spectacular, courageous young  woman didn’t chose to hoard the exhiliration of the mountain top all to herself.  She took out her paint brush and magnified a small blog post I had written a few weeks ago.  Posted next to it was this: Not only has this woman inspired me to share myself, she has also taught me that loving myself is the only way to help others. This blog post says it all...Thank you Rebecca Mahoney,  you are one talented writer!

We all want those expansive,  Grand Canyon moments;  big excitement, passion, huge successes and can spend a lifetime in pursuit of those things we think we need to be  happy;  waiting for a specific joy.   The Alps are breathtaking, but you know what, so is the edelweiss scattered all around the nadir of that summit. 

What a wonderful life when we slip on those  3D glasses, magnifying the simple gifts and  live in a state of “Whoa” for all the beautiful small moments that are really the essence on the big screen of our lives. 

Woohoo to mindful emphasis on so many of life’s lovely little details.  

Week Sixteen - WooHoo to joyful hello’s, sunny goodbye’s and snack mansions...

Avid story lover

Friday was my youngest granddaughter’s 5th birthday.  I was there at her birth, as well as the older two. From the moment all of them cried their first breath, they’ve taken mine away.   This little one also happened to be born on my father’s birthday, April 20th, four years after his death.  I can’t imagine how difficult it was for him to part with her in heaven, sharing her with us and the world, but I thank him, and God every day.  Dad knew we all needed her big, bright smile, happy disposition, and even temperament.  She makes us all want to be better people; from her big sisters, to her parents and grandparents.  She's the essence of fresh air kissing my soul, her innocence and joy wafts over my often cynical, world weary spirit, and infuses it with a new way of looking at life.  The sisters are constantly holding, hugging and kissing her, even now, five years later.  She simply makes a difference, at the tender age of five.  

Summer Bikini

Taking my breath away really doesn’t do justice to the impact this little girl has had on my life.  She takes nothing and gives everything back, a sort of spiritual mouth-to-mouth, almost every time I’m around her.  Her joy teaches me how to live in the moment and savor those things that I could easily take for granted.....  A beautiful sunny day,  friends, holding hands, the delight in catching a glimpse of a loved one, and special treats.  

I picked her up from preschool Thursday so mommy could go Birthday shopping for her.  Little Dora back-pack on her shoulders, her face lit into a brilliant smile when she saw me.  She ran towards me, screeching my name in delight as she tackled my legs with love and raw joy.  As we walked out of the school, holding hands, she smiled and waved a cheerful goodbye to each one of her tiny classmates.  “See you tomorrow, Grace” she yelled.  “Bye, Bye, Parker.  See ya later,” she singsonged to another.  “It’s so pretty today, Mimi, she said.  We went outside for recess.  We ran, and laughed and played tag. It was a great day.” 

Gift from middle sister

A love of all things Disney

I told her I had to stop and get gas, before we headed out to meet her mommy, and then Mimi had to go to work.  She asked if she could get a snack first.   I promised to buy her one at the Motomart.  After filling the tank, and taking her by the hand into the convenience store, I felt kind of guilty buying my precious little girl a cheap snack at the gas station.  I shouldn’t have.  She stopped, looked around in awe, up and down aisles of chips, snack food and candy. She cruised slowly down each one, pointing out the Skittles, Cheez-Its, Hostess Donuts, and Trail-Mix.  Eyes wide with delight, she said, “Mimi, this is a snack mansion!”  Two young, kind of tough looking guys, overheard her and smiled a tender smile that I am sure hasn’t found its way on their faces in quite some time.  A lady, at the register whispered, “How precious.”  She was oblivious to the attention and the impact she had on those in the store.  I’m sure none of them will ever be able to walk into a Motomart without thinking, “Snack Mansion.” 

Wishes come true

Lesson for this week. Look for some beauty in every day.  Greet everyone joyfully.  Leave your friends with kind words.  Recognize every word and action can impact even a stranger in the best of ways.  Most of all, turn mundane tasks into an adventure.  WOOHOO!  You just might find your own “snack mansions” in the most unlikely places! 

Week Fifteen - It’s not about me.... WooHoo!

Bad things happen to good people.  I know.  I’m good people and some bad things have happened. I also know,  in this lifetime I’ve reigned down my own share of bad behavior. The last several decades, I have been mostly on my “better” behavior.  And, yet, challenges abound which tend to make me occasionally question if morality, integrity and kindness are really the key to a rich life. Sometimes it seems the most dishonorable, shallow people appear to have such great lives!   Maybe it IS all just Karma and I was a real pistol in my previous life.   Some of those lines from the Indigo Girls song of the 90’s, Galileo, resonate with me.    

And then you had to bring up reincarnation

Over a couple of beers the other night

And now I'm serving time for mistakes

Made by another in another lifetime

I offer thanks to those before me

That's all I've got to say

'Cause maybe you squandered big bucks in your lifetime

Now I have to pay

But then again it feels like some sort of inspiration

To let the next life off the hook

But she'll say, "Look what I had to overcome from my last life

I think, I'll write a book"

How long am I gonna have to pay?

I have been on a spiritual path for the past 25 years.  Most of that time I've recognized because of my connection to something larger than me,  there is more to life than what I have, what I do, and what other people think of me.  I see now, that was just superficially skimming the surface.  The last 3-4 years, I stopped dabbling and put on my night goggles venturing into a much denser forest of spiritual exploration.  I’ve found, sometimes, when we do that, push through into more rugged terrain, the challenges become more intense, kind of like athletic training.  WooHoo, you conquered those hurdles, now its time to move on to perfecting your high jump. My high jump appears to be “forgiveness opportunities”.   I’m discovering a big part of a successful, contented life is clearing any, and all, resentment out of the way, on an ongoing basis.  There can’t be any residual jealousy, anger, or judgement or it clearly clogs up this spiritual vessel.  

Almost every day seems to bring a forgiveness opportunity for me.  Inevitably, something will arise that pushes a button or reminds me of the past.   Or, people just act like the shit heads we all can be sometimes, and hurt my feelings.  It triggers old tapes, or a memory, I take it personal, and there I go, off and sprinting, missing the high jump bar by yards.  Why me?  Why did they do this to me? What did I do to deserve this? Me.. me... me.... Practicing for my solo, which leaves me feeling even more solo.  The resentment eats me up inside, while I pretend and smile on the outside. I try changing the thought, but that doesn't always propel me over the bar. 

A few months ago, I was listening to Dr. Wayne Dyer on PBS promoting his new book, Wishes Fulfilled.  So much of what he had to say resonated with me.  I liked the optimism of his premise;  we are all capable of creating our own dreams come true. Initially it sounded like a lot of the Law of Attraction buzz of a few years ago.  It’s not that I don’t believe in some version of the Law of Attraction, but attracting more money, fame,  a mega-yacht in Monaco, or other self-serving gifts into our lives isn’t really what I think it’s about.   On the other hand, I could buy into Dr. Dyer’s belief that we attract things we desire, when they are aligned with our  higher purpose.  That made more sense to me.  Like drawing the gifts of the spirit, peace, love, your dream job and ensuing prosperity, rather than winning the lottery. What I also liked, he detailed the process to do that, with clear instructions to open the door of possibility and achieving your hearts desire. 

 A few weeks later, I bought the book. When I read it, some of the steps he outlined, I’ve been doing for years;  since I was a child even.  I was the consummate daydreamer. It was probably an escape for me, just like reading, but I did envision my great life. I learned how to “act as if” what I wanted had come to pass - self-confidence, new jobs, even healing.  And, optimism has always been a part of my make-up.  So, what's the deal?  It must be this Karma thing, I thought. 

Then he mentioned the Berlin walls we construct that block us from our Source and our Highest Self and ultimately, our wishes and dreams.  I froze in recognition, and it stopped my heart for a milli-second.  He said, “When we see and cast judgement on another one of God’s children, it overshadows all of our spiritual visualizations and intentions. We must eliminate habits of criticizing, condemning and judging, anyone.   You must remember, every single one of God’s children are just doing what they know how to do.   Here comes the part, that has changed everything for me.  “IT’S NOT ABOUT YOU. THAT'S THEIR STUFF.  IT’S ABOUT THEM AND WHAT THEY NEED TO LEARN AND EXPERIENCE ON THEIR JOURNEY.”

Huh? It’s not about me!  It’s not about what I did or didn’t do, who I am, how I failed, that I was too much... or not enough.  Their punishment, rejection,  abandonment, or the silent treatment isn’t really about me? What?  It’s not even about my Karma.  It’s THEIR KARMA ultimately. THEIR LESSONS.  THEIR JOURNEY.  How freeing is that?  It leaves no room for resentment or dwelling in slight and hurts.  It’s not about me, if someone doesn’t want to be my friend, lover, employer, confidante, or is having a bad day, week, or life.  It’s about THEIR path and what they need to work out.  


Amazingly, everytime one of these little opportunities to cop an attitude pops up, I find myself repeating...."IT'S NOT PERSONAL.  IT'S NOT ABOUT ME.  Once, I recognize that it  frees my spirit up to send them love instead of judgement and criticism.  Now, it may call for loving kindness extended from a distance, to protect my own boundaries, values, and dreams.  And sometimes, that's what I have to do. It only matters that my response is kind and I don't take ownership of their stuff.   It IS about them and where they are at.....


And that, is the process that follows every real or imagined injury to my ego. 

I haven't done this perfectly and can slip into my old “you hurt me”, “you were unkind” “you ignored” or whatever perceived slight I imagine, mode. But, that’s why they call  this work, spiritual PRACTICE.  I am discovering, when I do practice it, there are no blocks to the miracles that enter my life. 

 Free tickets, handed to us while waiting in line to buy tickets at the box office the other night, out of the blue!  Was it Karma, or was there just room for miracles and Wishes Fulfilled?  

My Karma  seems to be shifting.  Think I’ll write a book!  WOOHOO!