Share this:

Slim Pickens, riding an atomic bomb as Maj. “King” Kong in “Dr. Strangelove, or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb” (no rights assumed, property of Columbia Pictures)

Modern humankind feels homeless in the deepest meaning of the word: not in the transient sense of having no place to sleep for the night, not even in the wider sense of poverty’s homelessness, but in a monstrous, universal sense of having no place wherein we fit. [It] thus comes full circle; those broken within, also cut off from what is without, find themselves fundamentally estranged — not at home with self, not at home with family, not at home with the world.
This is a terrible feeling, a terrible be-ing — this dukkha (Sanskrit for “suffering”) sense of a bone ripped out of its socket. The experience is of lost souls circling endlessly, seeking the place where they “fit”. For only in finding that “fit” is the bone re-healed into its socket, and only thus does one find a place to rest, a place to hide, a place to be one’s-self… a home.
– From The Spirituality of Imperfection: Storytelling and the Journey to Wholeness, Ernest Kurtz and Katherine Ketcham

We must have compassion for those who have no compassion.
– Gary Zukav, author of The Seat of the Soul

When the bombing happened at the Boston Marathon last week, I found myself not fascinated, but repelled… perhaps even jaded. It was easy to tune out a lot of the coverage, especially since I don’t routinely watch the news. I read enough about it online to get the basic facts. I checked Facebook to make sure my Boston and runner friends were safe. And I prayed. I prayed for the victims, for the observers, for all the families, and for whoever committed this crime. (I prayed for the victims and survivors of the disaster in West, TX as well… but it seems that was due to corporate neglect and greed, not violence. More on that subject later.)

It wasn’t difficult to figure out why I was feeling so jaded… it seems like weekly there’s an act of mass violence in this country. And it’s almost boring to find out that they are largely carried out by disaffected young males… most of them white, nearly all of them acting on their own. The press falls all over itself publicizing their family history and psychological details, seeking to establish motive and blame long before anyone goes to court, upping the fear factor whenever it can.

All of this desensitizes us just as much as violent movies, TV shows, and video games… not to mention endless coverage of events like these. Even one of the photos from the bombing last week passed around Facebook showed a graphic image of a man in a wheelchair with his legs blown off. Once you see that, you don’t forget it.

As a teacher of teens in my church (see Being youthful), I talk to young people a lot about difficult subjects. Well, at least they’re difficult for adults — love, relationships, and sexuality. The youth don’t really have any problem with it, once they trust you and know you’re not expecting true confessions. And sometimes other subjects come up, too — like violence, addiction, religion, and alienation. I hear stuff about these that make my toes curl just as much as what they have to say about love and sex.

What I’ve observed is that it’s all too easy to disconnect youth from society today. They are encouraged to be independent and largely unsupervised, or supervised in ever-dwindling ratios of adults to teens. Latchkey kids are the rule rather than the exception, and after-school programs that aren’t sports are just about non-existent. Youth are encouraged to work, yet job opportunities often come with 20-hour-plus requirements, which wreaks havoc on schoolwork, family life, and social activities — key to teens being connected.

Adults largely don’t want to be bothered with youth. I do not say this lightly. I’ve heard way too many adults say to me, “I don’t know how you can work with them… I can’t stand teenagers.” And these are often their own parents! What are you doing, raising a kid you don’t like? What were you expecting… another adult just popping into bloom at age 12? And just how did you manage to expect that in the face of reality? Teens have to develop and grow, just like the rest of us. And to do that, they have to experiment, experience, and make mistakes, just like we did. Who needs to grow up here, really?

Adults are the ones who are ultimately responsible for teens’ well-being. We brought them into this world, after all, even if what we really wanted at the time was a baby. We need to stay responsible for our children, no matter what their ages, and even if they’re rebelling against us to establish their own identities. While they might not like you at the moment and your involvement in their lives, they know loving — true loving — when they see it. (See this YouTube video for a great demonstration of how you put loving back in your relationship.)

One of the more interesting pieces of brain research of the last couple of decades is that as teens age, the center of decision making migrates from a region that governs emotion to a region that governs logic. So teens biologically are less capable (not incapable, just less) of making logical, well-thought-out decisions, especially in the absence of guidance. If you mix in trauma, you add in a whole lot of static to the decision-making process. Hormonal cycles make it more complex yet.

But one of the deciding factors in developing a random assassin (let’s call these acts for what they are — acts of random killing) seems to be lack of connection. If you don’t feel love, if you don’t feel empathy, and if you don’t even like anything, or have convinced yourself you don’t, then you’re enough removed from others to make massive violence possible. There are scores of studies that prove emotional distance makes it easier to inflict pain, such as the famous studies where test subjects who were assigned the role of prison guards and told to inflict “electric shocks” on prisoners — who were really actors faking pain reactions. It took a shockingly low amount of time before the guards were giving massive doses of “juice” to their victims.

We specialize as a society these days in disconnection. Many of us have lost the values of community. Many more adults are disconnected from others, especially the elderly. We have learned to disempower and debase others, if not ourselves. We have revered the independent outsider, the loner, and held it up as an ideal in movies, TV, and music. And we are paying the price for it.

One of the interesting things I have observed at the hardware store where I work is the number of young men with tattoos. I freaking hate tattoos because they’re an emotional trigger for me (personal history), but I’m working on accepting inked skin. Might as well, I’m not going to get rid of it… and I don’t have to have one. Thank God. Anyway, I’ve noticed a lot of guys who are tattooed all over — at least what I can see — and almost without exception, they are sweet, polite, and mild-mannered. Not one of them has been rude or abusive to me… and I’m just the cashier around there, not somebody in power. It’s almost as if these tats are protective coloring, ways to shout out, “I’m a MAN, dammit! Don’t mess with me! I’ve got ink!” So why does anyone have to show this so graphically? Could it be that we encourage feasting on each other… that bullying extends further than anyone guesses?

So how can we connect with one another? And how can we hold space for our truths? How can we begin to open up our society so we can all be exactly who we are without having to display colorful symbols that we think might protect us from the threat of each other? We are seeing the pushback from the GLBT community, in fighting for marriage equality. We are seeing the pushback from the 99% of us who aren’t super-rich or members of Congress (often one and the same). And yes, we are seeing the pushback from those who feel threatened by change. While all of this is healthy, because all views must be heard, it doesn’t build community.

It is the community of shared humanity that will save us. Community based on shared values (as different as they may be), on tolerance, on recognition of our humanness. We don’t have to all believe as one, but we do have to believe in the worth of all. We do have to reach out to all and maintain connection — even if that connection is rejected, it is our responsibility as humans to attempt connection. It doesn’t mean we have to accept all attempts or force others to accept ours; it simply means we must smile, greet peacefully, ask about welfare, and reach out to help as we can.

This is how we prevent violence. More guns, more prisons, tougher sentencing, less tolerance only breeds more disaffection and despair. Community and connection brings understanding, love, and tolerance for all. We only have one world, folks — we can’t keep it if we disconnect our young people until they reach a certain age. Disconnection does feel as if a bone’s been ripped from its socket. And the next time a bomb or a gun is seen as the solution to that pain, it just might be in the mind of the teen on the next street from you.

Somewhere somebody must have some sense. Men must see that force begets force, hate begets hate, toughness begets toughness. And it is all a descending spiral, ultimately ending in destruction for all and everybody. Somebody must have sense enough and morality enough to cut off the chain of hate and the chain of evil in the universe. And you do that by love.
– Martin Luther King, Jr.

Related links:
Why the faith of the Boston Marathon bombing suspects doesn’t matter, but yours does
What motivated Boston bombing suspects? Looking for their ACEs might provide some answers
Sting and Stevie Wonder: Fragile

Share this:

(Photo credit: David Ritter)

I was talking with a friend recently who was bemoaning the in-between stage her primary relationship seems to be in. They’ve gone into unfamiliar emotional territory for her (read: it’s not a traditional romance) and now, to her chagrin, they’re renegotiating everything. She doesn’t know if they’re a couple, lifelong friends, or completely kaput. Nothing is stable and it’s been making her crazy. She’s rarely dealt well with change in her life and now this uncertainty is striking at her heart… it’s in danger of shutting down. The only way she’s surviving this is to make her own decision to leave, before he can desert her. And I wonder whether she’s throwing away what she doesn’t yet have.

It’s so hard to be patient when your life is upside-down or in a state of limbo and there’s nothing you can do about it. That has happened fairly often to me, with all the periods of unemployment I’ve had. And I found that patience with uncertainty is a process, acquired gradually with every new challenge you receive.

One of the observations that many folks have made to me is that they envied my calm when my job went aground yet again. Living on unemployment or without steady income would drive them nuts. But what I learned over and over again through those challenges is that panic, resentment, and anger didn’t help anything — in fact, if I gave in to them, I could easily fall into depression and have an awful time digging myself out. It was worse than any temporary poverty. I knew that the one thing I absolutely could not afford, if I wanted to get another job, was to become too depressed. That never gets you through an interview with flying colors… and obviously doesn’t do much for your career, either.

It took a long time and many moments of panic before I gained enough trust in uncertain times to be reasonably confident that I wasn’t going under. I had to read over and over, “there really aren’t any poorhouses any more,” before I started to believe that I wasn’t ever going there. Yes, I might scale back, but life would indeed go on. Somehow. I wasn’t going to die from a lack of money.

I learned that I could trust that support would come in at unexpected times and in unexpected ways. I learned that I could ask for help. Most importantly, I learned to trust the still, small voice in me that told me this was the way I needed to go, that I didn’t need to force solutions because there was no permanence in anything forced… and therefore, they weren’t solutions. I learned to lean into the uncertainty, that my truth lay waiting in the middle of the fear. Each step was made clear as it was to be taken, even if it was only a baby step or to hear “Wait” in the wind.

This is the only way I’ve learned to live with the uncertainty of loving a man who chooses not to be present to me… and trust me, there’s been a lot of uncertainty around that over the years. I’ve ruminated, meditated, analyzed, renounced (yep, you heard that right), and prayed my heart out for guidance and relief. I’ve cried many times over lack of communication and laughed out loud at the insights I’ve received. I’ve been struck by coincidence, serendipity, and just plain wonder at the way it’s unfolded for me. It’s really been an extraordinary experience, one that has taken me by the hand and led me through the underbrush of my life toward light, wisdom, and yes, joy.

To say joy might sound more than a little strange. After all, I’ve never held this man in my arms. Yet. But the joy of love isn’t only experienced through touch, through physical presence. Joy can also be present in growth, in understanding, in realizing that love means putting the needs of another ahead of your own, even if those needs include staying away from you. No, it isn’t what I dreamed of nor is it filling my need for affection, at least at the moment. But in loving this man through the brief encounters we have (mostly online), in understanding the bond that runs deep and true between us, and in perceiving that there is a meaning in the persistence of this feeling, I have grown to realize that not all my life is under my conscious will and control.

I’ve learned that love can be involuntary. I’m beginning to think that one of the biggest lies we tell ourselves is that we choose love, that it can be found through logic and reason. Now, this runs completely counter to a lot I used to believe, because I’ve heard all the arguments that we are compatible with many people, at least enough to live with them. I’ve heard that real love is acquired and earned, and what we feel at the beginning is an illusion. I’ve heard that love itself is an illusion, a temporary madness that eventually clears and we find ourselves permanently hitched to a complete stranger who looks and acts nothing like the beloved we idealized. As a survivor of abuse, I’ve learned to distrust some of my own initial reactions, because I can plug into an unsafe situation almost without realizing.

But what I’ve learned is this: the process of falling in deep love is real and sent by God. When we fall deeply in love, it is not because we chose someone else logically. It hits you below the level of consciousness. While we can objectively choose another to love, that can place limits on your ability to connect unless you are able to open yourself fully to the wonder and the mystery. The rational use of love is a contradiction in terms. There is a madness about deep love that defies all common sense… and it should.

This divine madness takes us out of ourselves, out of our everyday lives, and puts us in an enchanted place where we see miracles grow. Marianne Williamson teaches that this state, this enchantment is not an illusion — rather, the illusion is our everyday lives that dull our senses’ perception of the wonder and majesty of the world. Being in love, as we know it, is opening up to true reality and is not the dreamlike altered state “realists” try to tell us it is. Love is where we are meant to live. This is who we are… not what we think we are.

It is through love that we grow and love for ourselves comes first, so if we are incapable of seeing ourselves we will not see the other clearly. This affects our perception of love and colors the relationship. In this way, we learn through conflict, through problems, through rubbing our rough edges against another’s. We learn that our faults may complement another’s strengths and vice versa. But until we can see both of us in the relationship clearly, as we truly are, love will bump up against our expectations and those expectations — positive or negative — may win. And so we both lose if we judge a love that doesn’t meet expectations as wanting. Learning to let go of expectation is key to helping the relationship grow and ourselves as well.

Marianne Williamson also teaches that “relationships are divine assignments”: in other words, you are supposed to be there to learn something. And it may not be to love another more deeply — rather, it may be to love, honor, and respect yourself more fully. A relationship that doesn’t work out in the material world is not a spiritual failure if you learned the lesson, which may not be the same one for both of you. Nothing is wrong with a relationship that has completed its mission of teaching and dissolves because there is no further to go.

But I know this love of mine is not obsession (yeah, been there, too) and I know it’s not abusive. I know it calls me more deeply than anything else by the lessons it’s taught me. I’ve learned through its uncanny resemblance to a previous love that it’s inevitable (see Wrecking ball… these two guys are so much alike it scares me sometimes). Funny how things are teed up in our lives. Why would I look for another when God’s gone to all this trouble to show me this one? How can I turn my back on the greatest mystery of my life? What other lessons does it bring, what nourishment can it provide, what will I forego if I walk away?

I don’t know all the answers to these questions, but I do know this love has been an incredible teacher. I know loving him has taught me more about my spirit than all the trauma in the world. How could I possibly ignore it to try to find another?

That’s really the question, isn’t it? I’ve wrestled with it for years. The only real answer I’ve found is to follow the path… it leads me on, no matter how it unfolds. Even in his absence, I’ve learned and grown. I can only believe that there is a higher, greater purpose, no matter how winding my road is. And if he never chooses to be with me, then I can only believe that is part of my path, too. The love for myself that has blossomed as part of this way has been reward enough. I give thanks for it all.

Share this:

It’s been a very busy week. Actually, a very busy month or two, as I prepare to move from my beautiful home of nearly eight years into an uncertain future. I don’t know where I’ll be living a month from now, not for sure. And I’m really excited about it.

HUH????? That’s the reaction I most often get when folks hear about this. Or something like it. But it is time to go. I’ve been feeling it for a while. I simply can’t afford to live where I’ve been, so since I’m not willing to compromise my freedom, I’ve got to deal with the reality of my budget by finding other quarters. It’s just that simple.

The other couple of times I’ve been faced with this reality, I’ve hemmed and hawed, gotten rid of some more things, packed a little, and ultimately juggled the few resources I have to produce a miracle and stay. But now my income simply can’t stretch that far.

The further into this life I go, the more I realize that it really is all about dealing with the reality in front of you right here, right now. There is nothing else. Nothing is gained by pretending that a lie is true… not even if it’s the lie you’ve dreamed of for years. If it’s not real yet, it’s still not real, and you can’t live your life as if it’s reality… especially if it means you’re ignoring an impending disaster.

Now, that doesn’t mean we can’t and shouldn’t dream. It doesn’t mean we can’t intend a different future, or shouldn’t work toward a goal. But it does mean that we have to take off our blinders and see what is in front of us clearly and with compassion. Just watch it, hold it gently, look at it from all sides. See what it really is. Then act.

So as I finish up packing and moving, I tenderly remember the wonderful moments in this house. I savor the light streaming through the windows, the serenity, the peace. I know I will have it again. I am grateful for the chance to figure out my next steps. But meanwhile, until the last minute I will enjoy being here.

Share this:

“You should know both the universal and the personal, the realm of forms and the freedom not to cling to them. The forms of the world have their place, but in another way there is nothing there. To be free, we need to respect both of these truths.” — Ajahn Chah, Buddhist teacher of Jack Kornfield (quotation taken from The Wise Heart by Jack Kornfield)

The above quote begins Chapter 6 of the book, “From the Universal to the Personal: a Psychology of Paradox.” And I am right in the middle of that in my life right now. I am perceiving universal truth about life — its impermanence, its contradictions, its purpose, its love, its joy, its hope — as well as its impact on my personal life, which right now is in total limbo. Yep, it’s a paradox.

It’s a good thing that I’ve become used to inconsistency and transition, because otherwise I’d be in a hell of a mess. Actually, I probably am in the middle of a hell of a mess, at least as others see it, but it’s really not doing much to me but make me wonder. I keep coming back to what I’ve learned, which is that everything is temporary. So housing, transportation, jobs, relationships… all come and go. Sometimes with my will, sometimes in spite of it. And while I certainly have to cope with the reality of bills, budgets, and physical needs, not to mention the people in front of me, I recognize that part of me remains unaffected.

I’m able to stay present with the moment simply because I understand that all things pass. This quality is called non-attachment, and it is basic to happiness. Really, much more basic than wealth or material goods. The big house, the fast car, the pretty jewels, the exotic trips… none of that brings as much happiness as knowing your well-being doesn’t depend on having any of it. Things can come and go, and if you’re not attached, your happiness doesn’t change. If we believed everything Madison Avenue tells us, then the only happy people would be the wealthiest ones… but that’s not true.

This is in such contradiction to what we are taught… in fact, to the way we perceive how most in this country live. But really, as I grow, I see that it’s only a contradiction to what is presented to us. Advertising shows us the “ideal” life, lived in a huge house with no visible neighbors (let alone in the next apartment), luxurious spaces with expensive cosmetics — floors, walls, windows, accessories — far out of the budget of most of us. But we all know a one-sided view isn’t truth. I learned differently when I delivered pizzas years ago: I saw mansions bare of furniture as well as modest apartments stuffed with bric-à-brac, things that became a symbol for plenty. (Not to mention the hoarders. That was sad.) So few of us actually live in a magazine layout… it isn’t always comfortable. A cut-out life.

The difficult reality is that many more live in transition than anyone wants to know, because it scares the bejeebers out of us. So we see stories of people living in cars, in shelters, on the street as being far removed from us — it’s a whole lot more comfortable that way. It happened to “them”… those unfortunate people over there. But many live on the financial edge, and so this fear is constant. We’re told through scare stories in the press that it’s closer than we think; that most of us are only two paychecks away from bankruptcy. It’s a real fear for our time.

But unless you really are living with a mountain of immediate debt, you are probably not just two paychecks away from bankruptcy… it’s much further away than you think. If you don’t panic, you find there are many things you can trim away, a little at a time, to stave off major changes in lifestyle. Minor adjustments that won’t pinch too much. If you panic, you could hack key supports you’ll need later. It isn’t hard to self-sabotage your credit by closing too many cards at once, for instance.

And in the meantime, your income may stabilize. You don’t know at any moment what could happen in the next 20 minutes. Miracles are like that, you know. People can be hired on the spot, an unexpected check or a new client may come in, an opportunity to start a business arrives, or a door simply opens. All of these have happened to me… they could happen to you, too.

This is where the universal viewpoint comes in. When you take your attention off the details of your circumstances and focus instead on the bigger picture of your life, you begin to see what brought you to where you are: the decisions, the accidents, the relationships, the jobs, the family history. And you start to understand that everything contributed to the wonderful chaos of your life. You start to see the whole of who you are and what truly supports you, because it’s more than just money and things.

When you can move from the personal to the universal, you gain a sense of proportion. You know what truly matters in life. This can happen deliberately, through deepening a spiritual practice, or suddenly through a crisis. You know what I mean — those moments that yank your heart wide open without any warning. The diagnosis, the accident, the wedding, the funeral, the birth, the instant when you know that most of what you’re chasing is ultimately meaningless and will die with you, if not sooner.

With a universal view, your heart is open to the timeless and the beauty of life. The present has more meaning than the past or the future. You learn that all you have for sure is now… it is the only ground you stand on. Anything else is either past or not yet here, so can’t be counted on. And what is here now has more presence, more impact, more depth than you ever perceived. You can trust that in this moment, right here, right now, you are safe, you are held, you are loved. And if you are not all or any of those things, with a universal view, you can see them clearly and begin taking steps to bring them in. The pain comes in lacking them and avoiding the knowledge… but once you willingly know, you are free to act.

And this is how you move back from the universal to the personal… through acting in the present to heal your pain. Keeping the universal in mind, learning what could be the big picture or arc of your life, helps you focus on your personal situation and make it whole now. This could involve working to heal your past, mending relationships, living healthier, even following old dreams. The form will be unique to you and your needs. You’ll know what it is, because it will seem more real than anything and will keep coming back to you until you start working it.

This gives you freedom like you’ve never known. The joy of making yourself whole again, of seeing the big picture of your life, enables trust in the future without having to know exactly how it’s going to play out. Life becomes an adventure, a game, and exploring it gives both thrills and peace. Even when you’re handed lemons, the lemonade is sweet. Holding both the personal and the universal mind gives you tools for a kind of serenity and stability that help you realize any other vision is simply illusion.

Share this:

“It is easier to live with the fallout than it is to live with the lie.” — Me

I wrote that down last night just before I fell asleep. One of those persistent thoughts that I don’t want to forget the next day. I keep a pad and pen by my bed just for that purpose… a lot of the inspiration for this blog comes then.

I don’t remember what train of thought led to that conclusion, but I do know its truth. I’ve been living it for the last 20 or so years, more and more all the time. As I have grown closer to my own truths, I’ve come face-to-face with the fact that they aren’t comfortable for a lot of people in my life. So do I say it their way, or mine?

I’ve tried both ways… neither one is easy. Mostly, I choose not to smack people in the face with it, but not to deny it either, whatever that uncomfortable truth may be at the moment. I live it and let that make the statement. That is the trick, you know — live your truth and never lie to yourself about it.

I’m living my own truth by sticking to my dream of writing, coaching, and eventually, teaching what I talk about. This has come at a cost — both financial, in terms of lost income from a career, and in relationships. Friends who don’t understand the changes I’ve gladly taken on seem to have left me. And while I still love and care for them, I can’t stop my own course to change back to make them comfortable. Or I won’t. Same difference. But the cost of this dream is negligible, compared to the cost of living a life that is “socially approved”. That is a price I can no longer afford.

There’s a lot of social lying in this society. Every time we tell a child to “kiss Aunt Gertrude” (even though he or she obviously doesn’t want to go near), or say “Fine” when we obviously aren’t, we’re telling, acting, or worse, inciting a lie. We teach our children that there’s a disconnect between what we say and what they see from the time they are tiny, if we aren’t paying attention to their perceptions and are just trying to “get along”, as we so often do. And children will point these lies out… usually at the top of their sweet voices that suddenly cut through a crowd.

Then we have to either admit the truth or start tap dancing around it, and teach our children to tap dance, too. Usually that’s what we adults do. I remember doing that with Ben (sorry, sweetheart… good thing you figured me out). We’re all pretty decent dancers by the time we reach adulthood, if we haven’t learned that our truths should trump lies… but really, there’s room in life for my truth and for your truth, and they don’t contradict one another, even if we think they can’t co-exist.

There are payoffs for lying, though. Not being in conflict can be sweet… or seem that way. Not hurting someone we care about, even if it leaves them in the dark, keeps life on an even keel a little longer. Not turning your life upside down to live what your soul is telling you means you don’t have to risk anything. If you avoid honest dialogue, if you aren’t sure about your own feelings, if you just don’t feel like you have the energy to be real, then you have incentives to keep up the social lies.

How long can we live with lies in our lives? Well, we can go an awful long time refusing to see the truth. We all know there are truths we’d rather not acknowledge. We know when we haven’t given what was needed, when we held back praise or affection, when we refused to see how someone was using us. This weaves a fabric of self-deception along with the social lies. All of it supports a life that isn’t real.

But there is a cost as well. We diminish ourselves when we live these lies. We effectively say that our truth isn’t worth living, that our dreams and purpose are less important. The problem is that the gap between the lies and our truth never shrinks — it only grows bigger. And we are stuck in that gap, trying desperately to keep our balance over what becomes an abyss under our outstretched legs. Sound uncomfortable? Yeah, it gets there pretty damn quick.

Because when you’re doing this, the life you’re desperately trying to keep in balance becomes completely unbalanced — after all, you’re completely thrown off every time those two sides pull a little further apart. Pretty soon you’re so out of kilter you can’t stay upright… and bam! Down you go.

When you fall like that, your first instinct is to grab anything within reach and hold on. But there really isn’t anything that’s going to hold your weight when your life is collapsing into its truth. Social lies can’t sustain your life in free fall. Like falling into the rapids, you learn quickly that holding on to anything gets you in immediate trouble. Much better to tuck everything in and let the flow take you where it’s going.

There’s no question you lose a lot when this happens. You lose any sense of what end is up for a while. You lose the ability to keep track of those social lies… you’re searching for solid ground, and you quickly find that social lies don’t offer any. So you also lose confidence in relationships that are built on those social lies. You know which ones those are — the ones that make you wonder what the game really is.

But the funny thing is that in falling into the abyss, you draw in and start getting your balance back. You start understanding exactly which social lies you’ve bought into and uttered without thinking. You learn again who you can really trust with your deepest truth. You begin to discover what your truths really are by watching what you naturally do when you’re not trying to impose another point of view on your reality. What I’ve found is that by living your truth, contracting your world, and getting your balance within yourself (no matter what’s going on outside you), then soon nothing shakes you and you see your life and your purpose clearly.

Then the fallout comes. Because as you start speaking your truth and quit buying into the social lies, you make people around you profoundly uncomfortable. All at once, you’re not who they thought you were — you don’t fit into the pigeonhole any more. You start encountering both subtle and blatant attempts to get you to change back into who you were. You realize you don’t even have to self-sabotage your new growth; somebody’s already there trying to do it. If that doesn’t work, friends and family can drift away more quickly than you ever thought possible. And the ground shifts yet again.

The thing is, though, that the further you go along this path, the less you consider going back, no matter how much the ground shifts. Living within your own truth and purpose is so fulfilling you wonder how you ever went so long without it. You learn who you deeply trust, and you drop social lies with those people. You learn who’s still tied to you, and let go of holding tightly on to those who can’t understand. And you don’t worry about it. You start limiting the rest of the social lies you tell to others… you still tell a few (like “Fine” when you really aren’t), because there’s just not enough time or desire to let everyone and their brother into your true life. That’s OK. No rule says you have to.

Fallout isn’t really punishment, although it may initially feel that way. It’s more that you’re going one way, and others are going another. There’s nothing wrong with either direction. And you can still love the people you love, even if they can’t figure you out. If they truly love you, they’ll be able to allow you enough space and accept who you become. Those who can’t accept, you can let go much more easily. You don’t have to be in conflict or anger. It’s just a difference of opinion… and yours trumps everyone else’s, when it comes to your life.

In the end, you have to go your own way. Once you know in your heart what you are following, you can’t take another path. You know that way brings not just social lies, but insanity as you try to be who you aren’t. Humans aren’t really built to handle full awareness of who they are, all the while being who they aren’t. For all the mystery stories of someone impersonating another, it really isn’t possible. Not for very long… at least if you’re completely yourself.

All you can do, once you’ve found where you’re going, is to open the door ahead. Then, open the conversation, open your mind, open your heart. Let love for all of your life come. Let the fallout come. It brings so much in its wake, even if there’s chaos, too. That doesn’t last; but the clarity, the joy, the purpose… oh, that’s worth it all.

Share this:

Fallow: (adjective)
1: usu. cultivated land that is allowed to lie idle during the growing season
2 obsolete : plowed land
3: the state or period of being fallow
4: the tilling of land without sowing it for a season

Farmers allow fields to lie fallow in order to restore nutrients to the land for later growth. This is a natural part of the cycle, and is necessary so the earth isn’t exhausted.

So it is also for humans, that we need fallow periods of time to allow life to restore us. As I begin work on my book, based on this blog, and further develop a new life to support myself, I need fallow time to rest and recover my balance. In this space before spring’s new growth arrives, it seems a good moment to claim this for myself.

I’m sure a new post, fully developed, will spring into bloom before long. Several have attempted recently, but aren’t yet germinated. I’ve learned to let them grow naturally of their own accord, instead of trying to force them into shape. It never fails that one begins to respond to the light and nourishment provided by my self-care and blossoms before my eyes… and soon, yours.

Take care, my readers. I’ll be back soon.

Share this:

Just before the rain begins, Noah is struggling to get the hippos on the ark, the last animals, afraid God is going to ask him to do something else…
God: Noah!
Noah: What? Whaddaya want?
God: Gotta take one of those hippos out and bring in another one.
Noah: What for?
God: ‘Cause you got two males down there and you need to bring in a female.
Noah: I’m not bringin’ nothin’ in. You change one of ‘em!
God: C’mon, you know I don’t work like that.
– Bill Cosby, Noah: Me and You, Lord

Yeah, it really doesn’t work like that, at least for me and you. We can’t change each other, let alone God, let alone reality. Fuggedabout the hippo. God is not going to give it a sex change just because Noah wants it at that moment. I don’t care what you hear about the Law of Attraction, how we set intentions, what charms we learn, what spells we cast, how much we please. There’s a limit to how much we can change, and it ends just beyond our noses.

We can’t change other people for our benefit. That’s what trying to change others boils down to, because we’re usually not asking them to change for their sake. Even when you’re trying to convince an addict they’d be better off without their substance, you’re more than likely trying to change them because of how it affects you. The problem is even the addict has his or her own path to follow, regardless of what you want. Change on that level has to come from the person who’s changing… nobody else can make it happen.

Women especially tend to tell themselves fairy tales about how they’re going to change their handsome prince (who they fell in love with because he was dashing in on his white steed to save the day) into a housebroken provider/pet. But men, possibly because they’re not receiving as many media messages about how they aren’t good enough as they are, don’t change themselves to please a potential mate like women do. Women, at least when they are younger, tend to see themselves as more malleable and that they should change to attract someone… well, my generation did, and I still see it somewhat in young girls. So we women tend to also see changing to please someone as a good thing to do and, therefore, it’s fine to ask somebody to change themselves. But it makes men just walk away, and so does any other woman who respects her own guidance over yours.

And why should we want to change others? I think that’s the question we really need to ask. Why do we think we have a right to ask someone else to change something about themselves to suit us? Why do we think that another isn’t enough for us exactly the way they are, without change, without modification, without even tweaking?

Now, I’m not saying that people shouldn’t change and grow. Lord knows I’ve done enough of that, and will continue to do so. I’ve had a couple of big realizations about myself just this week — some pretty painful ones, at that. If those take root, I will continue to grow and heal, which is a really good thing. Necessary, in fact, if I want to continue on my path. But I’m the one driving this bus. I’m not changing to please anyone. Far from it; there’s more than one person in my life struggling to understand me and where I’m going.

But nobody else has any idea where I’m going but me (well, God does), and that’s the way it should be. And while I may be wrong — wouldn’t be the first time — I think I’ve got a better idea of my destination than Joe Schmoe down the street.

What I am saying is that we can’t direct, trigger, or dictate someone else’s internal changes. That level of personal growth has to come from inside us, especially if we want it to stick. We may think we see something “wrong” about the person we are in relationship with, but the only thing really wrong is the lens with which you’re perceiving them. You may see the flaw, but judging that flaw reveals the flaw in you.

We are all part of the Divine. We are all perfect in God’s eyes, exactly the way we are in that moment. Accepting that the Creator created us, we must also accept that what we see as “flaws”, God sees as “perfect”. Our flaws are present to teach us. That is their sole and Divine purpose. Everything in our lives is here to teach us a lesson… even if it is tragic, even if it is undeserved, even if it is completely unbelievable.

In this society, that is probably the most unbelievable statement of all. We far prefer to see anything negative as either totally undeserved, or richly deserved (while licking our chops in schadenfreude — meaning enjoying the troubles of others). But our troubles can be due to any number of reasons… the only universal thing we can say about them is that they are brought to us for the purpose of teaching us. It really doesn’t matter in the end whether you caused them through something you did, if they’re due to someone else’s mistake, or they just happened. They appeared in your life because they are a teaching aid. That’s all they are. And if you don’t want to see them again, you’d better figure out the lesson and apply it to your thinking.

One of my most humbling, and educational, moments as a parent came when Ben was about four or five. I wasn’t really confident in my perceptions, certainly wasn’t spiritual, and was under the influence of a friend who simply didn’t understand kids who were “different” — which Ben definitely was. He was artistic, a dreamer, lost half the time in his own world, especially when this world was too much for his young psyche. There was a lot of financial drama going on in our house, although I was trying as hard as I could to balance a demanding job and the demands of single parenthood, not to mention everything else around us. So I was in conflict between her ideas of “normal” and my perception of my son as “exceptional”.

I don’t even remember what I said to Ben, but it was very much along the lines of “why aren’t you acting like the rest of us?”, which makes me cringe even to write it out. What I do remember, vividly, is the fallen look on his sweet face and his little voice saying, “Mama, don’t you love me as I am?” At that moment, I had such a vision of myself as a bully. Oh, God, I was a bully trying to change him with my words.

I grabbed him in a huge hug and said, “Oh, sweetheart, of course I do. I’m so sorry for saying that to you. I really didn’t mean it.” And I started to cry. It still makes me cry to remember it. I learned in that moment that no matter what my friend thought of as “normal” or could handle, my role was to be my son’s advocate in this world. It made no difference what anyone else perceived, I was his mother — the only one he had — and his champion for him being everything he was.

I’m still his champion, supporting everything he is. And he is who he is, far more than I ever was capable of being at his age. As I contemplate the process of trying to change people, I think that really is the price we charge when we bully or criticize. We risk making others unsure of themselves, unaccepting of their whole selves, but the reality is they don’t really change and it doesn’t make anyone happy anyway.

Some really good examples of this is shown in this video called To This Day, on bullying. (It’s about 7 1/2 minutes long.) It shows very clearly that bullying is coming from people who don’t understand and are using criticism and ridicule to try to change or ostracize others. How does this change anything, let alone another person? One of the most profound things I ever learned is that change happens only from a positive mindset — we cannot really change if we don’t like ourselves. You have to believe you are worth changing for it to happen. Not exactly what criticism and ridicule bring.

For our society to heal from our ills, we need to learn that we are all different for a reason. We need to learn that we are here to champion and guide our children, but most of all to love them for exactly who they are. In fact, we are here to love all around us for exactly who they are… because all I really want is for you to see me. Don’t try to change me. The chances are pretty good I’m not going exactly where you think I am, even if I’m heading up the ramp to the ark and the rain is starting to fall.

Share this:

“Love extended is the key to happiness; love withheld is the key to pain.” — Marianne Williamson, The Gift of Change

Yes, love is truly all there is. Nothing else is real. Not loss, not material goods, not pain. All we own is love, all we can really give is love. So what are you waiting for?

Happy Valentine’s Day to all my readers!

Share this:

I am not sure there’s anything more difficult than people walking away from your life without telling you why. I’ve had several people do that to me, including three long-time, close friends… and my love. The latest occurred just a few weeks ago. I’m not sure how permanent a break it is, and I don’t think I’m supposed to know. That’s fine. It isn’t my issue, or I’d be more involved.

However, that doesn’t make it any less painful. You’re still going to stew over it for a while, replaying your behaviors and wondering what you did to trigger it. You’ll still blame yourself for a while, although as you gain more experience, it does get easier to let go. You learn you can’t force interaction with someone who really doesn’t want to talk to you. All they have to do is walk away.

And that leads me to contemplate those people I have left behind in my life without a word… well, given that it’s me, they got words even if they weren’t satisfied with them. But there are a few who have reached out later and who I have ignored. They don’t reach out for long, which makes it easier for me.

But who is served by this behavior? What do we really learn? What do we really teach? That is what I’m contemplating today, as I look at all sides of this situation as I’ve seen it. Maybe I’m being taught something here.

When you don’t give a reason for walking away from someone, you haven’t necessarily taught anything to that person except that in some way the relationship is unacceptable. Of course, our culture being what it is, the other party usually takes it that they are judged unacceptable. And that brings on pain.

That may be your intent. Maybe that person hurt you, so by distancing yourself, you’re trying to inflict as much or more hurt on them. Maybe you have no more words to say, but you can’t be there for them anymore. Maybe you don’t know what to say because you’re so confused about what is happening between you and you’re overwhelmed. Maybe you are feeling guilty because you haven’t done what you promised to do, no matter what. Maybe you simply feel you are growing apart and there’s nowhere for the relationship to go.

But often, by not saying anything to the other, we’ve demonstrated that the only issue is in our own heads. It is just you, in conversation with yourself, who created the issue and is keeping it going. At that point, the other person has nothing to do with it, no matter what they did that triggered you. Most of the time, no matter how heinous you think their behavior was, that other person is merrily going on with their life (well, it probably looks that way to you) and has completely forgotten about whatever it is they did that upset you. The rest of the time, they’ve either accepted your silence and moved on, or you succeeded — they’re thoroughly upset.

Now, here is where I can tie myself up in knots. In fact, I did for a minute until I could get some clarity… because walking away from someone is a knotty solution to a problem. I want to make it clear that I am not talking about walking away from an abusive situation: that is often the only safe way to handle it, and I am not examining the behavior of anyone who chooses that course of action. In fact, I have done so myself a couple of times and I think it was for the best. Neither of these guys were going to change because of anything I said — I was an object, not a complete person. For my emotional and physical safety, I had to get clear away.

I am discussing those everyday situations where someone — you or another — chooses to walk away from a close relationship without a word. These are real challenges. When an acquaintance doesn’t follow up on phone calls or e-mails, we can shrug it off and keep up with them on Facebook. It’s easy to accept that for some reason, you don’t fit into his or her life. Sometimes we just don’t have the time to add more people to our lives.

But when a close friend or loved one chooses to walk away, it is painful until you give it some thought and come to some sort of conclusion as to why it happened. It is often a divine opportunity to examine our own behavior. You may or may not be at fault. If you discover that you did disappoint or fall, then you have a course of action to take by making amends… if it’s possible. The price of your slip may be the relationship, but you’ll never know until you try to heal it. The possibility of losing someone shouldn’t stop you from doing your own work, which may include reaching out.

If you didn’t do anything you can see that triggered the break, then it doesn’t mean you’re off the hook yet. Give it time and you may eventually learn the lesson in it for you. Understanding is worth the time and the work it takes. I’ve found through my relationship with my best friend (see Beginner’s mind) that it may take time apart to allow both to grow and change into a new relationship. We are closer than ever now because of that break… which I initiated.

If you really were the innocent bystander in your loved one’s internal drama, it’s still painful. And you’re going to continue to have to stand by until they resolve it on their own. It can hurt big time, especially if you can offer insight into what they’re learning the hard way. But one thing we all have to learn is that sometimes your role is to be the person someone reacts against. I think of teens and parents here — part of a teen’s growth is to rebel against authority (Mom and/or Dad) in order to establish herself as a separate person. It’s essential that parents understand this, so they don’t take a lot of their teen’s behavior personally. It really has nothing to do with who you are, or even your relationship. It has to do with your child becoming an adult and their self-image development.

No relationship is without some pain, somewhere along the way. This is how we learn and grow as human beings. We need conflict, we need misunderstanding, we need miscommunication to shake our lives up and force us to change our ways. Whether we like it or not, pain is a motivator.

That said, we cannot be responsible for another person’s pain. That doesn’t mean we’re not accountable for our own behavior — we absolutely are. But it is up to the other person how they receive your behavior and process it. Once you’ve acted, the perception of your action is entirely out of your control. This is a root of misunderstanding.

You can’t control someone else’s behavior, and you can’t control their reaction to yours. Wow. Takes a whole lot out of your control, doesn’t it? It also means you can’t read their minds. All you can do is behave in a way that feels right to you… and that requires that you get extremely clear on what is right. (And by the way — this doesn’t give you permission to beat up on anyone passing through your life.)

If you opt to leave someone’s life without telling them why, then you may have opted for opening a wound and keeping it open. Sorry, but that’s what it can do. In that case, it doesn’t really heal. There’s always a question in the other’s mind about what happened, if you opt not to respond to them. And unanswered questions fester in us until we find an answer we can relate to.

Even if you are the one who leaves, you may still have unanswered questions about the relationship — the difference is, you are the one who has closed the door to the answers. And those questions will never be resolved until you re-open that door, no matter how hard it is.

If someone has left your life without telling you why, then you have two choices. You can obsess about it, keep trying to force contact, and nurse your resentment of the way they’ve treated you… which keeps negativity going. Or you can attempt to understand, accept their behavior with love, and vow to keep the door open to that person when they are ready to return.

I have had many people walk in and out of my life. There are very very few I do not welcome back with open arms… most notably the two men I mentioned above (for obvious reasons). Even when there is pain on either side, I have found that love will heal it all. Because pain in the present, if it’s not due to something right in front of you, reflects pain in the past — and that pain is just a story. And don’t you know that real love, applied liberally, heals all painful stories?

Share this:

“We must get off the surface, away from the periphery, and move into the center where the fire is, and there become consumed by the fire and really become alive. Aliveness is the first effect of living a disciplined life. We must all become disciplined wild people. That’s the spiritual life. You participate in the life of the spirit — the spirit of God. God has no boundaries and no limitations. He’s infinitely wild! All the psychiatrists and all the psychologists I know agree that one of the major reasons most people have mental problems is that they are not wild enough. Their lives have been too restricted and too tame…
“God is surprise. He always takes us by surprise! He is nothing like we imagine. God transforms us in ways we never dreamt of… God is not nice, God is not a mascot, God is not an uncle. God is an earthquake. If we’re going to enter the cave, we’re entering into the presence of a lion. Who knows if we’re going to come out alive? God is love, all right. But because His love is unlimited and boundless, it’s fierce! We can’t afford to be routine or trivial about it. We can’t afford to reduce God to our own measure and our own management. We can’t possess God or cope with Him the way we want. We must be overwhelmed by the leonine surprise of His personal passionate presence.”
– Father William McNamara, “Alive with God”, an essay from For the Love of God, edited by Benjamin Shield and Richard Carlson (emphasis mine)

I find this writing life is very quiet by today’s standards. I go out to work at the hardware store, run a few errands, spend time with my son, see a few friends, go to church. The rest of the time, I’m content to be home… reading, writing, reflecting, playing around online. It’s pretty boring updating my friends when they inquire, especially when you compare it to the life I used to live, when I was gone from home most of the time and out and about in the world. I seem very different to people now.

But my inner life is so much more rich and passionate than it ever was before. That’s where the action is. Every day, I learn more about myself and how I interact with others. Every day, I learn more about how to bring love and blessing to even the most casual encounter. Every day, I gain appreciation for the world and how rich it is… what greatness there is, the lessons, the feedback, the connection I feel for all.

It is the process of walking into the fire that has brought me here… the act of living totally in faith with God, or as much as I can be at this point in my life. It is the strength of trust, the flames of sacrifice, but mostly the power of love that draws me onward, not noticing the coals under my feet. And they do not burn me.

I may live quietly, but I have never felt more alive, more aware of presence around me… not just other people, but all of life. I frequently think of our biology — that we are actually made up of billions of tiny tiny lifeforms, all working in concert to create a separate larger being that moves and lives as a single organism. When you think about it, life itself is a miracle, a product of a fierce love in creation. The world is so complex, life itself infinitely variable, only a dedicated love could have devoted itself to the effort required to develop it.

It is that dedicated love that is present in every meditation, every prayer, every sign that I am on the unique path intended to bring me to the service I am to offer. And I receive them constantly. But I’m nothing special in that regard. We can all receive this guidance if we go within ourselves regularly, because we are all products of that dedicated love.

I strongly suspect the reason more people aren’t operating from this mindset is that they’re afraid of the burning coals. Can’t blame them for that. There are more than a few walking around with burn marks… some are disfigured from the pain. All you have to do is talk to people for a little bit and you can see what cripples them.

However, what I’ve found to be true is that living from love can heal the burn marks to the point where you can’t see them or feel them anymore. Marianne Williamson says that A Course in Miracles teaches that “a miracle is a change in perception.” And miracles are what heal the burn… changing your perception that others deliberately hurt you, that you are anything but a child of love, that you are bad, mean, stupid, or any other negative label you’ve put on yourself (usually with the help of others).

Marianne Williamson also teaches that “what is not love, is a call for love”. So understanding that the behavior that hurt you is actually a call for love from another, even if they were speaking in a language you don’t, gives you new perception. The truth is nearly always that we react to others as if they intended to hurt us, but rarely is that initially true. However, we make it come true by our reaction, which sets up a painful chain binding us both. The only way to break free of that chain is to apply love.

It is through deeply listening to the other without judgment, accepting their truth for what it is, and seeing them for the love they intended, that we can perceive how we built the chain and begin to pull it apart. Yes, it seems like a firewalk to start that conversation, but it’s the best way to heal ourselves, others, and our relationships.

God demonstrates through his fierce love for the world the benefits of firewalking. It is through fire that glass and metal are made, that lava is transformed into volcanic glass, that we are given light, heat, and the ability to cook — and thus transform — our food. In legend, it is through fire that the phoenix is destroyed and reborn. The fire of change burns away what is no longer needed in our lives and purifies our desires.

So get wild, get leonine, declare your love as God does… through action, through joy, through wildness and ferocity. Don’t live a tame life anymore. You don’t have to challenge Everest to introduce surprise and energy into your spirit. Open yourself and your relationships to the deepest love you own, live that love, and see what happens. I’ll bet that God will meet you with all the love there is to give and you will discover the infinite storehouse of it. It will be wild, it will be a roller coaster, but your hands will be flung in the air and you will be screaming with joy as you run across the coals without ever being burned.