To Any Followers I Might Have:)

Dear Faithful Followers (If You're Out There;),

Please accept my sincerest apology for not posting in the past few months.  I have just climbed out from under holiday joy, teenage angst and chaos, and personal growth.  Whew!!!  It really has been more subtle than that sentence implies, but was experienced as a ton of bricks!  Oh, and I also started sculpting again.  I am happy to be back with you and I have a lot to share.  

Today I want to share an epiphany which I had recently.  Actually, it's one that has hit me on differently levels several times in my life.  Believe it or not, it started when I was four.  Not the epiphany, but the lesson.  I was in a Catholic church with my grandmother (yes, I was raised Catholic). I was four and she was explaining the stations of the cross to me and telling me that God sent his only, beloved son to die on the cross for us.  I was horrified and outraged, as only a four-year-old can be.  I didn't ask for Jesus to die on the cross for me.  And how could a father who loved him send him to die?  I struggled with this for most of my life.  It was only over the past 2 years that I was able to make peace with such complicated ideas.

Most recently, it hit me that, for me at least, Jesus' suffering and dying on the cross was a clear and loud example of how we are to act if we wish to bring healing and wholeness to ourselves and others.  I had finally broken down and watched Mel Gibson's movie The Passion.  I had thought about watching it several times since it was released, but wasn't sure I could handle it emotionally.  I'm glad I finally put on my big girl panties and watched it!  Let me be clear, when I say we should act like Christ, I don't mean we have to be flogged and nailed to a cross.  Yet what we are called to do and also told that we are quite capable of doing, is to remain open and loving no matter what is happening to us or around us.  That is why you hear of Buddists who forgive as they are being murdered.  Yes, I suppose staying open and loving in the face of hatred and pain can feel as painful as being flogged and nailed to a cross.  But, we are told we are capable.  "This and more shall you do."  

The interesting thing is that being open and loving isn't just for the other person or even for the world at large.  It is also for us.  Being open allows energy to flow into our field and keeps us vital and thriving. Being loving keeps us in alignment with our truest self.  We just have to breathe and remember that we are far more powerful than we ever give ourselves credit for being.

So, my challenge to myself and to whoever reads my blog is to stay open and loving the next time you or I are met with hatred or pain.  If we can do that, we just might change the world:)

Healing the Planet

I was hanging with my posse this past Saturday.  That is my Womyn's Group:)  We were talking about GMO's and Roundup and the poisoning of Mother Earth.  I was on my soapbox (one of many) and ranting and raving.  Then one of the women said (paraphrasing), "We need to heal those wounds in ourselves to heal Mother Earth."  Of course!!  It was a ton of bricks falling on my head.  And let's face it, I often seem to need those ton of bricks to see the message!

The message was...what poison do we need to purge from our bodies?  This message had been coming at me from a few directions lately, but it took this beautiful woman to deliver it in her beautiful words for me to be able to hear it.  This message had also been coming in other levels and layers of truth for the past month.  I believe it started with my allergic reaction rash.  I purged the toxins of early childhood abuse with the ravaging course of the rash.  I received this message last week when I watched Eve Ensler's poignant Ted Talk titled Suddenly, My Body.  In it she discussed her body and cancer and how having cancer helped her reconnect to her body.  Eve also spoke about how she came to realize that her body was a mirror image of Mother Earth in that her cancer was symbolic of the poisoning of Mother Earth.  I have left out a great deal of her talk and highly recommend you watch it.  This is the link:  http://www.ted.com/talks/eve_ensler.html.   Now it was time for me to take a hard look at how I was poisoning myself.

The answer couldn't be any clearer.  I have been poisoning myself with toxic, negative self-talk.  I have found myself saying, "You are so stupid no one will want to hire you,"  "You are boring,"  "You are not enough for anyone or anything,"  "You are selfish and needy,"  "You are lazy!"  Whew!  I got a headache just typing those comments!  But, now is the time to let go of all of that for good.

I am also reminded of some amazing words that Marianne Williamson strung together:  "Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.  Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.  It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.  We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous?  Actually, who are you not to be?  You are a child of God.  Your playing small doesn't serve the world.  There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you.  We are all meant to shine, as children do.  We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us.  It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone.  And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.  As we're liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."  Wow!  Truth in poetic form is a beautiful thing!

My prayers go out to all those effected by Hurricane Sandy as well as all people in need.  And I vow to purge myself of anything that makes me feel small.  Perhaps, in this way, I will heal myself and send healing out to the world.  Won't you join me?

Skin Deep

My husband and I recently had a wonderful weekend in North Carolina hiking Mt. Mitchell.  I had been looking forward to the hike since our summer vacation.  We were able to hike several days during our week away, but hadn't made it to the highest eastern pinnacle.

All of our hikes to date have been amazingly sweet with warm sun and stunning vistas.  The sweating exertion on mother earth and fresh air worked to keep me present.  Mt. Mitchell was no different in many ways, but vastly different in others.  With all of the fraser fir trees, Mt. Mitchell was ever green and smelled like Christmas, wonderful.  It was also rockier, steeper, and colder than we had yet encountered.  And as we started our return trip to the car, it began to rain steadily.  It was tricky making our way down the mountain with slick rocks and billowing ponchos.  I worked on breathing with my fear of a slipping fall ending in a broken bone.  As we hiked, Jay and I talked about the obvious lesson of accepting what is.  I was tempted to bemoan the fogginess hiding the amazing views we should be seeing and the rain preventing the blue skies and warm sun.  But it was what it was.  We were experiencing hiking in a new way...a more primal way.  And I felt it in my bones.  By the time we made it back to our car, my hands and ears were cold and we were dripping wet even with the ponchos.

So, what of accepting a rainy, cold hike colored by the small fear of breaking a bone during a nasty fall?  Evidently not much, because Creator drove it further home for me early the next morning.  I woke up to an itchy raised, red rash on my inner thighs.  Later that day, the rash was in the crook of my left elbow and both areas were beginning to give off heat.  Four days later, two thirds of my body was inflamed with the rash...itchy, swollen, and hot.  It was uncomfortable and debilitating for a full six days and it stopped me in my tracts.  Accept that!  And as I hung out on the sofa covered in various blends of goop, I struggled to do just that.  It wasn't just the discomfort of the itching and swelling, it was also the feeling of helplessness and ugliness that I needed to accept.  I felt trapped by my "ailment", prevented as I was from carrying out my normal routine activities.  I felt ugly and buried under my red alligator skin and twice normal size thighs and bottom.  So, I breathed.  In breathing, I accepted.  In accepting, I was given the realization that I was detoxing early childhood trauma...letting go of cellular memory.  Not bad for a weeks work!

What do you need to accept today?

The Pursuit of Truth

Recently two dear friends of mine had the courage to suggest to me that my son, Will, might benefit from a residential school setting.  I was flooded with many intense emotions.  Tears welled in my eyes as I heard the vein of truth in what they said.

Since then, I have been struggling with the idea.  While I know without a doubt that I am willing to do whatever is best for my son, I falter with what that might be.  How do I determine such a thing?  Really what I am asking is "how do I find the truth?"  I think this is an important question for all of us.  It was the driving force for Gandhi.  He titled his autobiography "The Story of My Experiments with Truth" and closes with the sentence:    "In bidding farewell to the reader, for the time being at any rate, I ask him to join with me in prayer to the God of Truth that He may grant me the boon of Ahimsa in mind, word, and deed."  Ahimsa is a sanskrit word meaning to do no harm.  Ahimsa is certainly paramount in my mind as I consider the best course of action for Will.

I believe that getting to truth requires the ability to see past emotion and ego.  To this end, I have found it most helpful to fast and meditate outside.  Certainly, anything we do to slow down and drown out the madness around us helps.  I suppose we could consider this a mini vision quest.  While this hasn't brought me an answer, it has brought me peace.  I know when the time comes, I will make the best decision I can out of love for my son.  What is your truth today?

All That Glitters...

All that glitters is not gold.  That literally just popped into my head.  It's been some time since my last post thanks to school starting for my kids.  Life has been otherwise uneventful and I have struggled to find another significant topic to blog.  So, I will follow my intuition and go with "all that glitters is not gold."  It is certainly a wealth, a mine, a treasure (hee hee:) of a topic to discuss.  Yet, for a spiritual perspective, I will focus on the concept of illusion.

Illusion is suggested in this well known saying by the idea that something glittering at first glance appears to be gold.  I believe as a society we are extraordinarily suspectible to this mistake when our economy is in the toilet.  Most of us are feeling the financial "pinch" and for others it is a vice.  With the pressure to survive, it is understandable we would be stopping and turing toward every glittery opportunity.  While this is a necessity, it brings many pitfalls.  It becomes very easy to follow the money and ignore our true path.

I have recently had my own wrestling match between making money and staying true to my calling.  I have considered teaching college,  starting a second hand store, getting certified as an EMT, and driving a cab.  The sad thing is I am not joking!  After much soul searching and meditation, I have decided to stay my course.  I will trust myself and the God of my understanding to provide for my needs.  Time will tell and I will keep you posted on how my path unfolds.  Bottom line...we either fear or we trust love.  I myself choose to trust love.

Fear vs. Love

Shadow Bag

Two weeks ago I was bitch slapped by my shadow bag.  It started when I discovered a loved one’s lie.  Naturally, I felt indignant, hurt, and betrayed.  How could they do this to me?!   I confronted my loved one calmly, but with a quivering lip and a tear in my eye.  Once the fault was admitted, I switched to ranting and raving.  I expressed my hurt feelings.  I instructed them about the impact their actions were having on me.  I stomped and shook my fist.  I all but demanded an apology.  Then, in the middle of my grandiose drama, up popped the thought, “What does this say about me?”  Oh, crap!  The dreaded taking responsibility for my contribution to the situation.  My righteous anger deserted me as quickly as it came.

Life would have been so much sweeter if I could have played the injured victim.  I could have basked in the glow of my loved one making amends for the hurt they caused me.  Unfortunately, I was trying to grow spiritually.  “What did this situation say about me?”  The thought was there and I couldn’t deny it.  Slap!   I couldn’t ignore the bag I was trailing behind, after all, it had smacked me in the face.  I grabbed it and shuddered at the slimy dampness of it.  Wondering if I were opening Pandora’s Box, I carefully grabbed an end of the sharp, rusty barbed wire and began to unwind it from the neck of the bag.  I held my breath as I reached in.  My hand shook as I searched the bag for the offending cause.  I grabbed a hairy tail and something squeaked.  A green-eyed monster?  No, that wasn’t it.  Ahh.  Out came the truth.  Not glittery and perfumed, but fetid and oozing (that’s what happens to things when you keep them in the dark).  I was codependent.  There I’d admitted it.

The God of my understanding was bringing my shadow to light.  Weeks before I uncovered my loved one’s lie, I had bought Ashley Judd’s book All That Is Bitter & Sweet.   I stumbled across the book at our local bookstore when I was helping my daughter get her AP summer reading list books.  I randomly thought it would be interesting to read about Ashley’s life and felt compelled to buy her book.  Days before the lie bomb went off in my face, I started reading Ashley’s book.  She wrote about her recovery and working the 12 steps for trauma she had endured as a child.  It was all beginning to make sense. 

Now the God of my understanding gifted me with guidance.  I was at our local library searching for books about blogging and internet marketing when I came across Recovery- The Sacred Art:  The Twelve Steps as Spiritual Practice by Rami Shapiro.  I recognized the hand of universal help and grabbed it.  Later that day, I was on the internet trying to find a local spiritual teacher when I found Paul Hedderman’s website (www.zenbitchslap.com).  On his site, Paul wrote about his alcoholism, working the 12 steps, and reaching enlightenment.  Both Paul and Rami said we all are addicted to trying to control life.  Slap!  I wasn’t perfect.  I grabbed the dreaded shadow bag and searched it again.  My hand brushed a blunt object and a glimmer of recognition hit my brain.  I could remember the very moment I started to believe I had control.  Paradoxically, it was at a moment in my life when I felt completely powerless.  I was only 10 years old and being forcibly held down by someone I trusted.  I feared for my life and with good reason.  I desperately prayed for someone to rescue me…anyone.  A knight in shinning armor, an angel, the hand of God…no one came.  Miraculously, I survived the incident.  But, I was faced with continuing life as I now knew it.  It came down to believing I had control or going crazy with fear.  I chose to believe. 

Thirty-six years later and wiser, I admitted I am powerless over life and others.  A heavy burden fell from my shoulders and I breathed a sigh of relief.  I still struggle daily with reminding myself I am powerless over life and others.  Whenever I start to feel perfect, I can count on my shadow bag’s strong right hook.  What’s in your bag?