Dear Readers,
I'm having more and more difficulty publishing my writings on this site so have decided to discontinue doing so. If you would like to continue to get them please email me your interest and I'll add you to a new mailing list.
Thanks!
Jerry
O Life of life,
every time we try,
every where we turn,
we see your affinity
for abundance.
From stars in deep space,
to jokes in a jester,
from oak trees in an acorn,
to stirrings in a heart,
from wildflowers in a meadow,
to wooings in a suitor,
from grains in a timber,
to whys in a child,
from swallows in a swarm,
to prayers in a priest,
from dunes in a desert,
to swells in a sea,
from winds in a canyon,
to raindrops in a cloud,
from questions in a quandary,
to yawns in a babe.
Indeed, we are immersed
in your abundant ways.
Why then,
are these not also
the ways of the world?
Why do we live as if
the only thing in abundance
is scarcity?
Let me tell you about all my lovers.
I love each of them dearly, but they don’t just receive my love and delight in my attention. Like any true lover, they love me back. They love me with an undying love--even when I may tire of them. I know. I can feel it. They give without thought of return and they forgive extravagantly. Each of them brings me a sense of deep joy and wellbeing.
They’re always here for me. Always glad to see me. Glad to have me show up at their doorstep though I may have been gone for days, weeks, even months! Each of them, like my heart, my mind, my body, works so hard for me, works so hard to make my life good.
Each is endlessly creative and loves to make me smile. They love to delight me with their gifts--with what they can do for me--and with me. They never get angry or lose patience. They never reject or abandon me. They never walk away in a huff. No, when I look back over my shoulder, I see they are still looking at me. Still coming to me. Still wanting to be with me. Oh, they love it when I give them my full self, yet none of them gets jealous when I share my love with the others.
Sometimes in my headstrong way, I go off, forgetting I have a deep and intimate relationship that goes way back with each of them. And frankly, at times I tire of one and want another. And they’re okay with that! They just want me to be joyful and generous…to be my best.
It’s the wildest, most beautiful feeling in the world. And I know, I don’t deserve them. But they don’t think that way. They just love me infinitely and immediately. They’re always right here. Always right now. Always available. Always and forever.
Let me give you a few of their names…writing, words, deep talks, drawing, painting, building, singing and making music.
What about you? Who are your lovers? Will you spend time with them today?
TODAY.
LET’S GIVE THE WORLD & OURSELVES A GIFT.
LET’S THINK HOW WE THINK ABOUT OUR LOVERS.
I’m sitting here
on a dock,
looking out on this,
yet another
rapturously “beatific?”
Yes, “Beatific!” morning.
Yet another cacophony
of water and waves,
sunshine and shimmerings,
green broad-stroked shorelines
and florid-winged troubadours,
whited blue skies
and pine-infused breezes,
all so meticulously produced
--right down to the atom--
that it comes off
looking completely, well, natural.
If I didn’t know better
I’d think Mother Nature
was showing off.
But no, thankfully,
she doesn't know how,
for she clearly has no ego.
She’s just bringing her best,
and showing up for another day
of life and love and laughter
in the holy hope
that you and I
will do the same.
We recently visited the Ashley Bryan exhibit at the Farnsworth Art Museum in nearby Rockland. It was in a word…Stunning! Especially when you know his story.
Born in Harlem, raised in the Bronx, at age 19 Bryan was drafted into the US Army and served in a segregated unit landing at Normandy on D-Day. Years later, after a long and distinguished career as an artist, author, and educator, he retired to Cranberry Island, ME. He died in February at age 98--as recipient of the Farnsworth’s 2022 “Maine in America” Award.
Was Bryan born an artist? No. Was he born with artistic ability? Yes. Did family, friends and others encourage him? Of course. But could they make him into the artist he became? No. Most importantly, was he passionate about his artistic ability? Well, the story is he stowed some of his art supplies in his gas mask while serving during WWII. So, yeah, I’d say so.
My point?
Only Ashley Bryan could act upon Ashley Bryan’s passion for artistic creativity. Only he could THINK THERE WAS SOMETHING IN HIM WORTH BEING PASSIONATE ABOUT no matter what the odds. And ultimately, only he could believe and trust in his abilities to bear his own passion’s fruit.
So what about you and me? Which of our passions are we acting upon today? While our lives may be vastly different from Bryan’s, like him, we (and only we) have the ability to think and act upon our passions. If we never stop to think about them, we will never bear the uniquely delicious fruit each of us has to offer. Fruit that the world so desperately desires…and needs.
TODAY.
LET’S GIVE THE WORLD & YOURSELF A GIFT.
LET’S THINK ABOUT HOW WE THINK ABOUT OUR PASSIONS.
Yes, grace comes first.
We’ve named that grace “God.”
It is God (“Good”) entering in,
into what we call “reality.”
Grace doesn’t brandish or beguile.
It doesn’t cajole or con.
It just comes.
In fact, it’s the real reality
because, like the squirrels
and spiders and sparrows in our yard,
it was here first.
It is we who come to it.
And when we do--if we do--
we come to see--and know--
that we’re already living in grace.
Oh, we may not understand it,
or worse, we may not believe it,
but precisely because grace is…we are.
In the moments we see this truth
we live out of it. And we live it out.
Then everything changes.
All things, even old things, are made new.
“New” meaning, no longer how things “are.”
“New” meaning, no longer can the past
seize, snag or snatch our present power from us.
Like Paul once Saul said, “If anyone is in Christ,
(aka: grace) that one is a new being.”
That is, each one’s presence and purpose
in this old, old world, is refreshingly new.
New in the now. New right now.
Always. Ever. New.
LOVE LOVE
is the juice
The truly deep wisdom of life is ever present, always available.
But it doesn’t come to us.
It is the still small voice that appears from out of nowhere because it is everywhere. And it is everywhere because it is the invisible essence and energy of all that exists. We unlock its experience at ever deepening levels by opening ourselves to its presence around us and within us. And we do so through intentional humility, vulnerability and awareness.
Like the prodigal son (Luke 15:11-24) who “came to his senses” and it changed his life forever. . . we come to it. Thankfully, it cannot be forced, cajoled, seduced or manipulated. This is not to say we can’t request it. Rather, once we do, we must consciously open ourselves to whatever it seeks to teach us--which is often not the answer we expect or desire--or it’s the one that may have been right in front of us all the time.
Like the wind, we cannot see it, only its effect.
But once we become aware of it, we see and experience its life-transformative power wherever we are, whomever we are with, and whatever we’re doing. To put it in traditionally Judeo-Christian terms. . .
. . . wisdom is the kingdom of God at hand.
TODAY.
LET’S GIVE THE WORLD & OURSELVES A GIFT.
LET’S THINK ABOUT HOW WE THINK ABOUT WISDOM.
I’ve written these words this past week while on my annual “band of brothers” (siblings/sons/grandsons) Canadian fishing trip--which took a three-year hiatus due to Covid-19. We have a great time reconnecting with each other, especially after so long!
Love and joy raise the corners of our eyes
as we look into each other’s aging faces.
It’s been so “Too long!” since our last rendezvous.
But in these few days and nights
our parts to play in The One Great Story
web us together ever so tightly once again.
We bask beneath each other’s sun
while the knowing takes fresh hold.
Filaments thin but strong wrap round us,
and for this trickle of time our lives like stars align.
Too soon it will be over. Again. Till when? If then.
Even now, one of us is gone. And though stilled,
yet we feel his bands pull at our hearts.
While life’s larks seek to undo our sweet weavings
these three things we carry always.
One, at the end of each day
the tales of its making will, like the universe,
grow beyond the size of its catch.
Two, that in these trophy times together
death is being eclipsed by life yet again.
And three, the bands, the bonds
that gather us as eternity’s brothers
cross all our chasms, all our divisions,
drawing us deftly into one another’s orbit
under the guise of this, humanity’s ancient affair
with the waters, their wares, their wiles.
I recently had a dream in which I was standing on the shore of a swift-flowing river just where it opened to the ocean. While I watched, an empty unattended panel truck parked nearby rolled backwards down a small embankment and into the water. It sank instantly, though I'd expected it to do so slowly since it was basically an air bubble encased in a thin skin of metal.
Fortunately, at least, there was no one in it.
A moment later a huge, heavily armored tank came clattering over a hill and into view. Without hesitation, it drove out onto the river and to my astonishment, remained afloat as if on solid ground. Once there, it turned 90 degrees and followed the river’s flow out onto the open ocean and off to a distant shore!
We’d spent the day at the ocean, I’d watched the evening news, and before going to sleep I’d been ruminating on a question:“What is the relationship between my thoughts and the world I experience every day?
In other words, which is the chicken in the egg and which is the egg in the chicken?”
TODAY.
LET’S GIVE THE WORLD & OURSELVES A GIFT.
LET’S THINK ABOUT WHERE OUR THOUGHTS COME FROM.
We have this vast outfield within,
and a diamond upon which our minds
play pick up ball all day.
And we are the ones, the only ones,
who can populate this green,
the only ones allowed to play this field.
If some thought throws us a curveball,
we can wait for the next one pitched.
Don’t like that one either?
Well, we’re up. We get to choose.
Once a passing thought gets purchase
it’s like the hitter making first base.
Think it again, we’re at second.
Will it make it all the way home?
Does every thought become an action?
Most don’t. Oh, but when they do!
So play on!
Moral of the Metaphor: A thought, a worthy one, and especially a grand one, usually has to rise through several iterations of the imagination in order to reach the level of a full fledged action. Oh, but when it does!
To every labyrinth there is a center,
a destination, a terminal point.
But the whole of it, that is,
every step of its way is sacred.
The very moment we place our foot
upon its threshold the holy begins.
When we reach its core
we don’t simply retrace our steps.
No, as with our memories,
we walk back upon the same path,
but from the opposite direction,
seeing the same scenes and scenarios
but from a differing perspective.
We may trace invisible footprints
laid and left by the masses
who traveled here before us
but still, these are our feet, not theirs.
This is our gait, our stride, our pace.
We can only walk our own labyrinth.
So it is with this labyrinth we call life;
Only we can place our own design upon it.
And though up close,
each one’s print is delightfully different,
from a distance we can see
we are all surprisingly similar.
Yes, our lives are the real labyrinths,
labyrinths of our own God-like creation
with each step being sacred. The real holy.
All the other ones are but metaphors
lovingly, gently, intimately designed
to point us wholly to our own,
and to the moment when we place our feet
upon it at the threshold of each new day
and the holy begins again.
TODAY.
LET’S GIVE THE WORLD & OURSELVES A GIFT.
LET’S TAKE TIME TO THINK ABOUT OUR LABYRINTH.
Nearly every morning I see them out my window, this elderly couple, neighbors. Back and forth they go, across the parking lot, past the house, round the block, each of them walking dog after dog after dog from the nearby shelter. One limps, the other lists, but it doesn’t deter them. Raincoats in the rain, sunbrellas in the sun, so great is their compassion for their furry furrowed friends, treating each as if royalty. I gaze out at them and what do I see? I see love. Humble love. It travels both ways on these leashes.
We’re never more than one thought away from a different world.
I’ve been sending my writings your way twice a week for just over two years now. And, while you never know what I’m going to say you always know what it’ll be about: THINKING. Yes, I am a quintessential “dog with a bone” on this subject.
And unapologetically so.
Why? Because in my day-to-day experience, I am being constantly bombarded with voices telling me WHAT to think. So are you. People near (family, friends, loved ones) and far (coworkers, acquaintances, complete strangers) are constantly attempting--and frequently succeeding--in influencing what we think. BUT FAR FEWER VOICES ARE ENCOURAGING US TO CONSIDER “HOW” WE THINK…that is, how we come to hold a particular opinion, belief or position about someone or something. AND EVEN FEWER ARE HELPING US GET BETTER AT HOW WE THINK…that is, at choosing better underlying premises which in turn lead to better decisions vis-a-vis the world. That's my bone.
But there’s good news here. No. GREAT news here!
There is nothing in the world that is more accessible to us than how we think…and, logistically speaking, there is nothing we can change as instantaneously or easily as our thinking. Finally, there is nothing in the world that will have as positive and profound an effect on it as improving how we think…AND NOTHING THE WORLD NEEDS MORE.
So I’m just going to keep on digging for that same tasty old bone.
Fortunately, there are plenty here for everyone!
TODAY.
LET’S GIVE THE WORLD & OURSELVES A GIFT.
LET’S THINK ABOUT HOW WE CAN THINK BETTER.
My mind just loves to talk to me.
Yammers away all hours of the day. And night.
In fact, especially at night.
Loves waking me up…keeping me up.
Pillow talk. (It’s words. Not mine.)
“Wait!” It scolds, “No la la land for you just yet!”
(Apparently it equates rest with being available.)
“Hello!” I snap back. “What about my rem stage!”
One of the sharpest arrows in its quiver
is its ability to rationalize anything I say or do.
Nice for me. Maybe not for you.
Another sharpie? Justifying. Again, you name it,
Even my ‘me bad’ stuff. (Especially my ‘me bad’)
And its capacity for denial? Well, unbelievable.
But there’s good stuff, too. Dreams. Memories. Joys.
Alas, pundit to pontiff, it has an axiom for everything,
everything from gossip to graduation-grade speeches.
Seems its goal is to give me whatever I ask for,
Oh, sometimes it’s all sweetness and light.
But at others, it can be downright nasty.
One moment it’s a lick-my-face puppy,
the next it’s a spitting mad Silverback gorilla.
So, much as I’d like to, I can’t just ignore it,
but neither can I affirm everything it sprouts off.
No, I have to monitor it. Mentor it. Mold it.
One good thing though, I’ve got a trump card.
Maybe I can’t control when or even why it thinks,
but I have total sayso on what--and how--it thinks.
At least, that much I’m in charge of.
Mind over chatter.
Sadhguru (sod-guru) is one of the wisest teachers I know. And yes, he’s a real live guru from India. He even looks and sounds the part. Relatively few of us westerners are familiar with his tradition because historically Christianity has kept its theological distance from such “non-Christian” eastern influences.
It’s time for that to change.
Sadhguru teaches classical hatha yoga. It focuses on what I would call “practical spirituality” and presents an extremely logical approach to life and God--as did Jesus. No threat. Rather, it invites us to think about how we think via refreshing-yet-ancient wisdom.
Here’s an example:
The kind of yoga he teaches is not a religion, not a philosophy, not an ideology. It’s not even what most people think of as spirituality. Instead, he calls it a “technology of thought”--something that doesn’t require a system of beliefs, years of practice, the mastering of some expertise or the amassing of educational degrees. But, like any technology, simply includes certain things that anyone can do--like prayer or meditation--so it’s available to everyone. Right now.
Like all good spiritual teachers, Sadhguru invites us to grow and mature, to experience and express genuine love and to know real inner peace. His approach is intriguing, enlightening and freeing. Check him out on YouTube or at his website (isha.sadhguru.org).
In the meantime, let’s consider: How practical is our spirituality? After all, isn’t that the purpose of all religion?
TODAY.
LET’S GIVE THE WORLD & OURSELVES A GIFT.
LET’S THINK ABOUT THE SPIRITUALITY OF OUR RELIGION.
The page is blank.
Right to the edges.
Staring back at you.
Eyes wide open.
No margins. No rules.
Anything goes!
Then something comes,
some meek little thought enters stage left.
Tiptoes in. Outside the spotlight’s full moon.
It scoots into a rare vacant parking space
in your brain.
At the moment it appears trivial. Trifling.
But wait. Don’t hit the delete button just yet.
It may become the keystone.
The cornerstone. A gemstone.
May be your best move on the board.
Then again, something huge, cometary,
may come crashing into your consciousness.
A simply fabulous something that, like a let-go balloon,
is just as likely to fizzle into a fallow nothing.
You just can’t tell yet. Too early in the game.
At first, you sweat to get something,
anything, down on paper. Publish or perish!
But then you get to play connect--the--dots.
You watch which way it flows. Where it wobbles.
Never mind the ubiquitous honk of interruptions.
You just keep building…building…building.
A rhyme here. A reason there.
Before you know it, you’ve moved to final edit.
You’re crossing your T’s. Dotting your I’s.
The once-blank page is full. Overflowing!
Jewels and gibberish. Meaning and mumbo.
But it’s yours. And it’s finished!
Sounds like writing a poem, I know.
But really, it’s about writing your day.
To manage our stress requires that we focus on our stressors, right? Now that’s a dead giveaway that something's out of whack.
Why?
For one thing ,the more mental space we give our worries, the more their negative nature conjures up anxiety in our thoughts and feelings. They are hungry little (and not so little) monsters that gobble up far more than their fair share of our precious life-loving energy.
Besides, what we focus on is what we become--AND, IN FACT, IS WHAT WE ARE IN THAT MOMENT!
Many counsel us to identify our stressors, separate them from each other like children who egg each other on, and then go after them one on one. This is good--when we’re good and ready. But one thing comes first: joy management.
Joy management? Really? Sounds crazy!
Well, maybe. (If the only time we focus on our joy is when we’re actually feeling it--for whatever random reason--as opposed to practicing being joyful because that’s the way we want to be.)
But maybe not.
Maybe “managing” our joy is the best way to manage our stress. First, let’s identify some of the things for which we feel joy at this very moment in our lives. Second, let’s separate these sources from each other so we can get in touch with at least some of the infinite number or reasons we have to be joyful. Third, let’s hold these joys up in front of us as we respond (not react) to our stress. Our joys are the perspective granting sword at our side--an infinite source of emotional strength and mental fortitude--we may not otherwise realize we have.
Maybe this is one reason Jesus was so big on joy, e.g. “I have told you these things so that my joy may be in you and your joy may be full.” (John 15:11)
TODAY.
LET’S GIVE THE WORLD & OURSELVES A GIFT.
LET’S MANAGE OUR JOY FIRST…THEN OUR STRESS.
There is a place, a holy place,
a holy land that lies somewhere
in between the land where everything matters,
and the one where no one cares.
Like all that is holy, this place is life giving,
it is the wellspring of wellbeing.
It is not the land of what could have been,
nor land of what could be,
nor the land of should have been,
nor the land of should be.
Those are all somewhere else,
and they are hot, not holy.
But this is the cooling place of the Holy Spirit,
where our prayers are heard and healed,
and beyond, in the quiet pool of sweet silence.
No one can stay here forever,
but that doesn’t mean we can’t all visit.
In fact, quite the opposite, its breezes beckon.
How do we get here? We sigh, sigh deeply,
deeply enough to let our sadness sigh out of us,
deeply enough to sigh goodbye, at least for a moment,
to the dry winds of our fears, our anxieties, our angst et al.,
so we can experience the clarifying and catalytic world of Be-ing.
Some think this is la la land, a mirage, a figment, a fantasy,
which simply means they’ve not been there. Here.
Yet.
Last night we attended a Billy Strings concert at the “Amp” here in St. Augustine. (Billy just won a Grammy for Best Bluegrass Album in 2021.) Of course, the music was fantastic, the band members all superb, the light show stunning, the decibel level, well…livable…and the outdoor venue on a balmy night idyllic.
And it all happened for one reason: Billy Strings.
Throughout the 3+ hour sold out concert I had the surreal experience that I was “in the presence of the extraordinary.” Billy’s technical wizardry coupled with his mesmerizing musicianship were wed so intimately together that I didn’t just see a man up on that stage.
I saw a man on fire.
I saw the entire universe in microcosm. I was watching the big bang happen all over again. It was like Billy was there but he wasn’t. His fingers were so one with his guitar and his mind with his music that the man, while flesh and blood, was completely transparent. What the throbbing crowd experienced and undulated to was something so gloriously real yet so otherworldly, so raw yet so refined that it simply defied definition.
I wondered while he was playing, “What’s he thinking right now?” (No surprise there!) Well, I don’t think he was actually thinking anything. He was somewhere else. He wasn’t feeling either. Beyond that, too.
So where was he?
He’d merged with the essence of his being. The two had become one--one at such an intimately empowering level that what the audience saw and heard was someone whose whole being was ablaze--someone so on fire that none of us could adequately describe what we were experiencing. And, at least for the moment, none of us needed to. None of us wanted to. No, we wanted it to last forever. Because we’d caught fire, too.
That’s the intimate and infinite power of becoming one with our own unique being.
(BTW: Wasn't that the essence of Jesus's message?)
TODAY.
LET’S GIVE THE WORLD & OURSELVES A GIFT.
LET’S THINK ABOUT BEING ONE WITH THE INTIMATE & INFINITE FIRE WITHIN.
Stay here. Right here. Right now.
In the here and now of this moment.
This is where our lives are lived out.
We can only be in one place at one time;
living and breathing in this lithe land of what is.
Back there is where what is was.
Up ahead is where whatever will be will be.
Back or forward, neither is here or now.
But here, here is where our choices are still gaseous,
and their consequences--good or bad--still liquid.
And now, now is when all things become solid.
So, here is where we can create
our now of the future,
and now is when we can conceive
our here of the future.
Since this moment is the only time,
the only place, you and I can ever “be”
it’s fortunate that we always have it with us.
If (or should I say when) we forget this,
we lose our place in the universe
and the home of right here right now
feels very very far away.
Did I really just say that? Blasphemous! Well…maybe not.
Before you stop reading please let me make a simple point: Mary--and Jesus, for that matter--weren’t the only ones who were “full of grace,” that is, full to overflowing with God’s love and goodness in their lives.
So are you and me.
But it begs a question: Are we by nature full of grace or are we by nature in need of grace? My answer: We’re chock full! In fact, it’s the primary way we are created in the image of God. Ironically though, we block our own conscious awareness and lived experience of this fullness of grace simply because WE DON’T THINK WE HAVE IT--WE DON’T EVEN THINK IT’S POSSIBLE TO HAVE IT--replacing it with an imaginary need for it. A need that isn’t really there...because it’s already been met.
That’s sad.
Thankfully, having this grace (all the joyous fullness of God), is not based on whether we think it, feel it, see it or sense it. It's not based on our perceptions, opinions or beliefs. It’s based on God.
Period.
This was Jesus' point. From the compassion in his thoughts to the love in his words to the boldness in his actions he wanted everyone in the world to believe one fundamental truth--that each of us and indeed, life itself--is full of grace!
It changes everything. It means we have more grace than we need to fully engage and fully enjoy this incredible life…this incredible day…this incredible moment. It means we no longer need buy into the world’s premise that we are by nature needy. It means even our pain and suffering can have life-giving meaning. Hence Mary Oliver's "Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?
Think we're not just as full of grace as Jesus and Mary?
Now that’s blasphemous!
TODAY.
LET’S GIVE THE WORLD & OURSELVES A GIFT.
LET’S THINK ABOUT HOW WE THINK ABOUT GRACE.
Me. I’m in dialogue with my soul.
I’m telling it to be still.
What a thought. How audacious!
After all, my soul is already still.
Always was. Always will be.
But maybe there’s some place else
where the stilling needs to happen.
So perhaps instead of talking,
I should be listening to my soul,
to what it would like to say to me?
Could be that, by its stillness,
it already is speaking to me,
and rather loudly at that,
telling me to chill, saying,
“Stop taking yourself so seriously!”
Sounds like it’s addressing my ego
which just may be the culprit
that is stirring up my stillness.
In which case, as is often the case,
it's my ego that needs to be stilled.
“Start,” my soul is saying to me,
“(and maybe end) by giving thanks,”
because giving thanks
doesn’t just entreat respect.
It engenders reverence,
reverence for life,
for all of my life--just as it is--
even when my stillness
is all stirred up.
WARM UP
Singers vocalize. Chess players do tactical move visualizations. Mountain climbers do straight leg bear crawls. Software programmers get coffee!
Seriously?
Actually, programmers--at least the sharp ones--visualize the system, application, or code they're working with like it’s a house of cards which, if tinkered with before they’ve done their mental prep, may come tumbling down--with landsliding effects. (And yes, coffee helps.)
What do these all have in common? Warm ups.
But it’s funny. We don’t often think of warming up our minds. Yet no matter what we’re going to do today--morning till night--we’ll probably do it better/quicker/longer if we do a mindful warm up first.
But how?
One way, ironically: DON'T THINK. E.g. meditation: sitting/walking/breathing quietly letting the mind become a pond slowly stilling after a pebble’s been dropped in it. Why practice not thinking? It rids us of mental leftovers and brings us back toward our tabula rasa state. Besides, it helps balance out all the overthinking we’ll do today!
A second way? DO SOMETHING THAT INSPIRES YOU FOR THE EXPRESS PURPOSE OF BEING INSPIRED--read something sacred to you, view great art or listen to some good music--whatever lifts your spirits, brightens your mood, floods you with joy--and restores your love of YOUR life even though it’s not perfect.
A third? Get physical. Stretch. Do qigong. Work out. Go for a run. Do the barre. Do something that brings every cell of your body on board. A BODY ON FIRE IS A BRAIN ON FIRE.
Better yet, do some of each.
Here’s to eliminating the landslide effect on our day caused by not doing true mental warm ups...and to being at our mindful best.
TODAY.
LET’S GIVE THE WORLD & OURSELVES A GIFT.
LET’S THINK ABOUT HOW TO WARM UP OUR THINKING.
What’s in the box is what matters.
The gift. Don’t give up until you find it.
It’s always there. Hidden. Somewhere.
These things that happen to you,
don’t think they are somehow the contents.
No, they are just the box.
And what’s in the box is what matters.
Hidden in plain view. Waiting.
The gift may be your very own resiliency
hidden in the box called, “Why My Life Sucks.”
The gift may be your inherent resourcefulness
hidden in the box called “Scared of Scarcity.”
The gift may be your innate resolve
hidden in the box called “Ambivalence or Whatever.”
The gift could be just about anything, couldn’t it?
So many gifts inside each of us. Waiting.
Waiting to be discovered, engaged, enjoyed.
Maybe more than we can open in a lifetime,
and what if this is each box’s real purpose:
To keep us pulsating, if sometimes palpitating,
while motheringly teaching us
to open ourselves to our gifts, our giftedness,
and to the giftedness of others. All others.
It makes me wonder, wonder a lot.
Maybe you really are God’s gift to the world.
Maybe I am, too.
For kindness
For challenge
For understanding
For welcome
For stimulation
For safety
For security
For approval
For answers
For meaning
For worth
For intimacy
For status
For compassion
For strength
For stamina
For beauty
For diversity
For health
For wealth
For wisdom
For wellbeing
For forgiveness
For joy
For pleasure
For acceptance
For truth
For permission
For integrity
For luck
For loyalty
For community
For individuality
For power
For providence
For satiation
For gratification
For work
For play
For peace
For love
No wonder it seems we’re always hungry.
No wonder, rich or poor, our lives are so much alike.
No wonder we have the gift of each other.
TODAY.
LET’S GIVE THE WORLD & OURSELVES A GIFT.
LET’S THINK ABOUT HOW WE ARE MEANT EACH OTHER.
Ever Approachable One,
I need neither wonder nor worry
if you’ll appear, or if you’ll speak.
You are always and ever present,
even while I wander.
It is I that evades this quieting
even when I do come,
when I, with my ageless agendas,
my prodigious lists,
my passion for productivity,
arrive clothed in boundless babble.
But when I lay aside every weight,
every woe that clings so closely,
when I bare my whole shorn self,
it is then that you help me
see through me to you,
and through you to me.
It is then you breathe new life
into this valley of dry bones,
and I rise up bone to flesh,
heart to mind, mind to spirit,
and dance into this new day
less rattled than when I came.
“That’s my story, I’m sticking to it!”
Cute phrase. I’ve said it many times. But it’s not just cute. It says something about our penchant for attachment. Obviously, it’s impossible to live without our “story,”--without being attached to where we’ve been, how we got here, and why it all happened. And after all, our stories are endlessly fascinating, aren't they?! (If you say yours isn’t, well, that’s fascinating, too.)
But when we “stick” to our story, we’re stuck.
Why? Because we are not our story. Rather, our story is the after-the-fact consequence, the passing aftermath of who we are at any given (and rolling) moment. Our “story” is largely irrelevant except for the parts we deem otherwise--the parts we choose to stick to.
What is attachment? It’s the significance (read: degree of stickiness) we give to each thought, feeling, person, relationship, event, and experience, etc, that happens in our lives. If we attach little significance to something (good or bad) it has little or no effect on us--on our thoughts, feelings and subsequent decisions. But if we attach a lot of significance to it, we’re choosing to make it part of our identity and we're injecting its relevance to everything we think, say and do.
So let’s beware. Let's be aware.
Some people think their story is absolutely everything that has ever happened to them. Yes and no. For all practical purposes, our story is really only comprised of the things to which we are attaching significance. That’s what makes it “our” story.
The good news? We each get our own glue stick.
“See, I am making all things new…” (Revelation 21:5)
TODAY.
LET’S GIVE THE WORLD & OURSELVES A GIFT.
LET’S THINK ABOUT THE STORY WE’RE STICKING TO...OR NOT.
When this day is over,
its moments but memories,
in the newspaper only I will read,
what’ll be my lead story for
who I genuinely affirmed,
what of me I gave to the world,
when I offered unspoken kindness,
where I made heart-healing amends,
and, front page above the fold,
why I took these roads less traveled?
Feeling grateful, probably more than any other emotion, keeps us sane.
A grateful heart helps us keep our perspective on life by keeping us grounded both internally and externally at the same time, reminding us that the external world (experienced through our senses and experiences) and the internal world (our thoughts, feelings and reactions) are intimately entwined.
Always.
Our carte blanche gratefulness is the music we play, inviting these two dimensions of life to dance freely together, one taking the lead and then the other, while we criss-cross the floor of life.
We have other choices. Fear, for instance. But to dance with our fears--be they authentic or imagined--is dangerous. We lose not only our sense of wellbeing, we lose our bearings--the foundational ones that help us choose which decisions to make and which actions to take.
Finally, gratefulness also helps us see what we otherwise miss in the face of fear; things like our strengths--which often lay dormant and oddly invisible to us; things like our options--which can be hard to perceive while immersed in the paralyzing fog of our fears; and things like our ever present capacity for creativity--which is the pathway we must walk in order to move through and beyond them.
“Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.”(Philippians 4:4 NRSV Bible)
TODAY.
LET’S GIVE THE WORLD & OURSELVES A GIFT.
LET’S THINK ABOUT JUST BEING GRATEFUL. PERIOD.
I close my eyes and look up,
smiling gleefully at the skies.
I open my mouth wide
and feel fat dollops of rain
splashing in my face,
splatting raucously
on my super-stretched tongue,
rivuleting through my hair
and down the nape of my neck.
Suddenly I’m seven.
So very young,
and so very, very alive!
I don’t care if I get soaked.
I want to get soaked!
Soaked down to my socks.
When does one get old?
Is it the day we decide
we don’t want to get wet?
But then what do we miss
that the children still get?
When do we lose our love
of splashing like a wilding
through the summoning puddles?
Admit, I must, few are the times
when I haven’t dashed inside,
and far fewer still the times
I’ve purposefully gone out
to play in the pelting rain.
Yet those have been the moments
that I’ve felt most alive,
weightless with joyful abandon,
gloriously, uproariously free.
“Does the flap of a butterfly’s wings in Brazil set off a tornado in Texas?”
This question was first posed by MIT meteorologist Edward Lorenz in the early 1960’s. Dubbed the “butterfly effect,” popular culture has generalized the term to affirm the predictability of huge change via tiny actions. Well and good. Lorenz, however, meant quite the opposite: Small variances in the initial conditions of a system (or situation) create the possibility of unpredictable yet profound alterations to the outcome of that very setting.
For example, when you or I undertake an act of kindness we create the possibility of altering the outcome of the context (situation/relationship) in which that kindness is performed.
The prime difference between such acts of kindness and what Putin is doing to the Ukrainians (and the world) is not so much one of kind as degree. Yes, he’s engaging in an act of unspeakable aggression instead of kindness. But it’s the scale on which he’s doing so that renders us speechless. After all, none of us is unfamiliar with acting out in aggressive ways.
Yet if each of us, and therefore all of us, engage in singular acts of kindness--even ones that seem random relative to today’s European/global context--the degree (and therefore potential butterfly effect) is far more massive than that of any single person. And, to the extent we direct that kindness toward our neighbors in Ukraine we create the opportunity for a different outcome than that of Putin’s medieval “siege and starve” tactics.
Putin’s apple cart needs to be upset. Quite ironically, cumulative kindness can do that.
“And what does the Lord [Life] require of you [each of us] but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God [our neighbor]?” (Micah 6:8)
TODAY.
LET’S GIVE THE WORLD & OURSELVES A GIFT.
LET’S THINK ABOUT . . . AND INITIATE ACTS OF KINDNESS.
Habits are like wrinkles.
Some, like our parents’ values,
are permanently pressed into us.
But others fall from the fabric of our psyche naturally
once we experience the gravity of life’s lessons.
Some of the good ones may just need
a “What was I thinking!” shake or two
--friendly reminders--and we’re ready to go.
Some, like a blouse stuffed in a suitcase,
may need a timely touch up of self talk.
Some, like a new dress shirt propped up
with pins and plastic and cardboard,
need to go through a quick wash of mindfulness.
Then of course, there are some--the bad ones--
that are so stubborn that we have to iron them out.
One, like a wrinkle, in time may smooth out by itself,
--yet there are some that require galactic TLC.
They respond only to the heat of self discipline,
the thus-far-and-no-further pressure of resolve,
and perhaps the steam of some fervent emotion!
Whatever the case, once we tend to our wrinkles,
the garment of who we are looks fresh and crisp
and we get that lovely well-put-together feeling
when we look in the mirror of self-reflection.
This is the greatest truth about any of us: We are free…relatively speaking, yes, because we are animals that die. But within the sphere of life, for all practical purposes, we are infinitely free.
In this very moment we’re free to think, feel and act in an infinite number of ways, free to choose from an infinite variety of choices and their consequences, free to move our lives forward in an infinite number of directions.
Surprisingly though, we often proceed through life thinking the opposite…that we are inextricably bound. There’s sound reasoning for this: We aren’t just free. We are also vulnerable--vulnerable because we are human beings that live and die (which is why marketing that focuses on giving us control works so well).
Being vulnerable means even while we are free, there are always consequences to which we are bound…including the consequences of the sheer capriciousness of life (accidents/disease/natural disasters, etc.) as well as the whims and ways of others (family, friends, neighbors, community, complete strangers, leaders, etc.).
Always free. Always bound.
The challenge then, is to decide whether we’re going to live this day out of our freedom or out of our bondage. The good news is that we have a lot more freedom than we probably realize.
Just ask Anne Frank, Claudette Colvin, Rosa Parks, Sarah Winnemucca…
TODAY.
LET’S GIVE THE WORLD & OURSELVES A GIFT.
LET’S THINK ABOUT AND THEN LIVE OUT OF OUR FREEDOM.
I rarely address current issues directly unless they provide an example for my preferred focus, that is, what’s going on in our heads and hearts that creates the blueprint of our response to life around us. Today’s poem focuses on that deeply transformative space in each of us and why it’s so valuable to be in touch with it, spend time with it, and listen for its wisdom.
TO BE & BECOME
Our stillness within,
that deep space in each of us,
as huge, as vibrant, as evolving
as the universe without,
is the perfect place,
in this perfect moment,
to be and become,
to be and become strong,
to be and become soft,
to be and become courageous,
to be and become forgiving,
to be and become hopeful,
to be and become kind,
to be and become compassionate,
to be and become resolute,
to be and become loving,
to be and become thoughtful,
to be and become thankful,
to be and become playful,
to be and become joyful,
to be and become generous,
to be and become creative,
to be and become mindful,
to be and become heartful,
to be and become whole,
to be and become
our own holy.
Hi again, friends.
Still vacating but will be back soon. Here are some powerful and practical words from Rabbi Rami Shapiro...
“To me, religions are like languages: no language is true or false; all languages are of human origin; each language reflects and shapes the civilization that speaks it; there are things you can say in one language that you cannot say as well in another; and the more languages you speak, the more nuanced your understanding of life becomes. Judaism is my mother tongue, yet in matters of the spirit I strive to be multilingual.”
Hi Friends,
We’re on vacation with our kids (some) and grandkids so taking a vacation from my writings. Meanwhile, here’s another of my favorite sayings from 19th C. French author Gustave Flaubert’s novel Madame Bovary.
“Human speech is like a cracked kettle on which we tap crude rhythms for bears to dance to, while we long to make music that will melt the stars.”
What’s going on in Putin’s mind?
Two things really…choices and consequences. But what are the deep driving forces that, like tectonic plates, are thrusting these egregious choices and their horrific consequences to the surface? Are they beliefs? Perceptions? Emotions? Addictions? Inadequacies? Biases? Prejudices? Ego? Where has his unique profile of decision-making criteria come from? More importantly, where are they leading him?
And the rest of us.
While his decisions may diverge significantly from our own, at that deeper level we may have more in common with him than we want to acknowledge. Just today, for instance, we can--and will--make numerous decisions that are ultimately grounded in our own customized cadre of beliefs, perceptions, emotions, etc,. It’s what we humans do.
But will we use each of them to undergird and increase the wellbeing of all that is?
Every day we live out our (largely self-complicating) existence somewhere on a continuum of love and lust. I define love here as making the choices that create more choices for all. Conversely, I define lust here as making choices grounded in self-gratification and self-aggrandizement that diminish or destroy others' choices. (e.g. lust for power, acclaim, status, revenge, vindication, etc.).
As we see in Putin, a mind tethered to lust is a heartless and diabolical thing. It will stop at nothing, sacrifice anyone and destroy everything in its path--including, ultimately, itself. What else could bring this incredibly beautiful and abundant world to the brink of war?
But love wins. Love always wins. It must win. Love is the way of all we deem holy. It’s the way and the choice of a universe that is all about choices. Which, of course, is why we humans and the rest of it are still here…being given the choice to continue making choices that create more love and more life.
What else can bring this profanity of all that is life-giving to an end?
TODAY.
LET’S GIVE THE WORLD & OURSELVES A GIFT.
LET’S THINK ABOUT MAKING CHOICES THAT CREATE MORE CHOICES.
They say the apple
doesn’t fall far from the tree.
But what they don’t tell you
is that we, said apples,
all fall from the same tree.
Maybe they don’t tell you
because no one told them,
or they assume we already know,
or because they can’t believe
the good news that
there is only one tree,
and the good news that,
before we fall from the one tree
we all drink of the same sweet nectar,
swaying beneath the same wind-wizened branches
while shaded by the same greening leaves,
all tethered to the same strong stems.
No wonder we’re all so alike!
Though we may look and live and love
differently from each other,
--so much so that it’s easy
to forget our common origin--
our truth lies in the tree.
And when we make our final fall,
all sheltered by the same Above,
we return to become fresh earth,
bearing fruit not of our own making,
but of our mother’s love and labor,
blessed to bequest her life anew.
Who’s your #1 employee?
I invite you to try something that may be new to you--a simple way to free your mind: Sit comfortably with your laptop, device or paper and pen, close your eyes, belly breathe a few times and let yourself sink into a relaxed state. Let the chatter come and go then pay close attention to what you’re hearing and feeling. Write down whatever comes…as it comes. Don’t filter. Don’t finesse. Just be a dutiful scribe while you let your mind speak--and speak freely.
This practice takes the mind off leash. Think of it like a dog in the middle of a woodland meadow on a beautiful sunny day. It let’s the mind sprint and jump, twist and cavort, stop and sniff, then dart off in a new direction. It’ll bolt off after some invisible prize (insight, revelation, aha) then turn and race back to our feet with it. All the while we follow at a distance and just observe. No agenda.
By the way, the longer we do this the deeper into the mind we go.
I’m not talking about daydreaming. That’s passive. This is highly engaging. In time we gain an appreciation of the energy, the agility, the beauty and the spirit of the mind--and all this while we are sitting perfectly still.
And there’s more.
Getting to know our inner landscape is not a given. There’s a whole lot of mystery going on in there. Many people won’t bother or may be afraid to enter. But this practice is so easy, so helpful and so healthful!
Don’t have time? 15-30 minutes a day is enough to settle into it. When we do it, especially regularly, we get both immediate blessing (like a calming and centering) and lasting benefits (like clarity and creativity).
We give our mind instructions all day long. It serves us religiously and tirelessly while frequently under emotional stress, mental strain and even physical duress. But it is a rare moment when we let it have a word with us, when we sit back and listen so we can receive invaluable feedback from our number one employee.
And it's the one--the only one--we can’t live without.
TODAY.
LET’S GIVE THE WORLD & OURSELVES A GIFT.
LET’S TAKE TIME TO LOVINGLY FREE OUR MINDS.
