A Small Piece of the Beginning

I am in South Florida. I was reading in The Book of Awakening by Mark Nepo and noticing how, more and more now, life is presenting me with opportunity to “walk my talk.” 

[E]verything, including you and me, is connected by a small piece of the beginning.

The past few days have been a bit stressful.  Today is Monday. Friday morning, my beloved son-in-law, Doug, had surgery in Middle Tennessee.  Knowing the procedure was expected to take between five and six hours, the waiting seemed l—o—n—g. Grateful for news. Text messages came from Stacey. The first that he was out of surgery and going into recovery. We waited some more. Receiving news he was going to a room and she would let us know how Doug was doing in the morning meant more patience was needed. 

We are home. Doug is sleeping in our own bed…. 

I am going to get meds and pick up stuff for dinner….

Doug is out of normal sinus rhythm (this is what the surgery was designed to correct); feeling discouraged; I am wondering if he might be hospitalized this week again…. 

Doug is feeling some better…. He has gone to work…. I will touch base with the doctor….

Since early Friday morning, I did what needed to be done, and while I enjoyed time with family here, I certainly know I was a bit cranky over the weekend. I know not to pray for patience because life will just bring more situations to try the patience you do have!

Patience pays off: Heron on canal, Pine Island, Florida.

This morning I am contemplating the patience this bird had in gathering food. And I am very thankful for the soothing sounds of nature that are wrapping around my heart today as I think of Doug and Stacey and all of you. It seems perfect to sign off with the rest of Nepo’s words:

When we believe in what no one can see, we find we are each other. And all moments of living,  no matter how difficult, come back into some centered point where self and world are one, where light pours in and out at once. 

In the Imagine Healing process (See http://www.ImagineHealing.info) we remind folks, “Even when things go better than could have been expected, healing is a process….” 

While we patiently welcome Doug's healing, I take this opportunity to thank each of the ONE who continues to be faithful in seeing wholeness for Doug, for me, and for themselves.

Avoiding Conflict

A friend of mine recently used the term “skirmish” to refer to a bit of a tiff she had experienced with a close friend. I was still thinking about that when I was catching up with a few days reading in a book by Mark Nepo (The Book of Awakening: Having the Life You Want by Being Present to the Life You Have). The heading for the first day was “I Say Yes When I Mean No.” The next day’s was about the inevitability of conflict. The heading for that one is “The Friction of Being Visible.”

I recall tenderly the journey to authenticity I made with my adult daughter. It was about twenty years ago. It became too painful to say yes when I meant no. It is as though your own soul wakes up and realizes it has an obligation to speak the truth with love and trust. Something as simple as a request to babysit, or asking for advice, or even arguing a point of view becomes a journey home to your whole and holy self. 

It was new for me, so when I first would say no, irritation sometimes happened. In my current awareness, I can sense that irritation as mine, for having been asked something that I was not able to give. In a quiet way, that might have been the Divine, calling me to my center, and using Stacey as a guide. I have heard that it is good to ask, “Why are you doing this for me?” the next time the temptation is there to feel put out by another or life itself. 

It is probably like any other skill you are developing, first efforts are rarely artful… but with patience, and persistence, and the understanding of how valuable the learning is, you get better at it as you go along. That makes me think of a momma alligator I saw in South Florida. She was poised in front of a log, on which seven babies were visible behind her.

The baby gators were only about a foot long. They looked so cute!

 

 

We were only about twenty feet away, and we were all quite fascinated at seeing these little ones. Seeing how cute these little ones are, you can understand. One man, in his eagerness, knelt down to get a closer look. Immediately, that momma gator raised her head slightly and out of her throat came a very guttural growl that said clearly, “Keep your distance if you want to keep your head.”

Momma gator was close by watching out for her babies!

The point is, when a person is trying to keep peace, hoping to avoid conflict, peace of mind (inner peace) is lost. Nepo writes: “If we choose to avoid all conflict with others, we will eventually bread a poisonous conflict within ourselves.” 

Think about it this way, giving what you can give with peace, you give peace both to yourself and to the other. Honesty, sincerity, openness with my daughter has resulted in a profoundly delightful relationship. Over New Years when I decided to go to Magic Kingdom for the day (after having been on the fence about it), she said she needed to know why I had changed my mind because she did not want me to be going to take care of her. I replied, “You do not really have to know why I changed my mind, you only have to remember that I am honest with you and I do not rescue you. I decided to go for my own reasons, and you can trust that.” 

Let the record show, I had a great time and even rode on Space Mountain!

Hidden Gifts

New Smyrna Beach, Florida, December 28, 2011

I am once again brushing up against a profound spiritual truth about the gifts hidden within adversity, pain and apparent loss. If a powerful soul lesson could fit neatly into the lyrics of just one song, it would probably have to be Country Western! This truth about hidden gifts would fit best for me in Garth Brook’s “Unanswered Prayers.” The lyrics are about having run into an old high school flame and having the powerful realization (and deep gratitude) that, despite diligent prayers back in the day, there was total grace in things not having worked out with this particular person the way he had so desperately wanted them to.  Here is the link for you to listen if you would enjoy hearing it: http://bit.ly/J10kw.

But this is a truth that goes across contexts, and it is not just about life partners. I recall the sense of despair we had when my husband got fired when he was expecting a promotion! His boss had been manipulating the books and skimming cash from the company, and John had gone to a district supervisor. The audit was welcome, but the results unexpected—the whole team got fired! Shortly after that, a family crisis (John’s father had a major stroke) helped us see the gift of being in our hometown so we could offer support to his mother.

In a message on January 8, 2012, part of a series on Quantum Living, Reverend Janice Cary, pastor at Unity of Fort Pierce, Florida, referred to your ability to see the bigger picture and to recognize the grace within every event in your life as quantum thinking. There must be something in the air about this right now, because on January 9, 2012, Russell Bishop, an educational psychologist, author, executive coach and management consultant based in Santa Barbara, California, wrote in “Soul-Talk: What Happens When God Closes a Door?” (See http://huff.to/wZrDIm): “…[A] whole lot of things had to be removed in order to make way for the next level of opening. As much as it may have appeared to me that God was closing a door, He was really opening a whole new universe.”

This year, one of my goals is to feel this truth of the hidden gifts, even of unanswered prayers, right in the midst of the normal chaos, change, disappointment, and uncertainty we call life. It is my intention to live in that beauty of the bend of the earth where the ocean meets the sky.

Deep Gratitude!

We could hold my husband responsible for the rest of the story that is the basis for this blog entry, because he is the one who bought a go kart for the kids when our grandson, Adam, was only about four, but the truth is Adam was born loving to drive. As a toddler, he would sit on anyone’s lap and grab the steering wheel with glee, even though he was not going anywhere. Adam’s legs were too short for him to reach the pedals on that first go kart, so his dad put a block on the accelerator.  

Adam loved to get his Grandpa into the kart and drive full throttle.  John would feign terror and Adam would laugh so hard he was falling over as he circled their house round and round as fast as they could go.

Adam had only one speed—full throttle.

And full throttle is what Adam was driving the last race of the event there at Daytona International Raceway in Daytona, Florida. It was Friday, December 30, 2011, about one-third into the race. He was drafting in a group of four drivers, going over ninety miles per hour, when the guy right in front of him hit the brakes a bit early going into a turn. In an instant, Adam had to decide to either rear-end  that kart or hit his brakes. 

It is now five days after the event, but when I saw the video of the crash for the first time today, I am still totally overcome with deep gratitude.  

That turn was right in front of the stands where we were standing to view the race. Hearing his tires squealing, seeing his kart hitting the wall before sailing backwards, and then seeing him in the kart as it rolled over and over still seems surreal to me, but oh, my, how much worse the outcome might have been. 

Adam and his go kart getting picked up at race end!

Deep gratitude is the only way to describe those moments immediately following as we watched him climb from the wreckage. Deep gratitude that he was on his feet. Deep gratitude that no other driver hit his kart as it was there on the track. Deep gratitude that he suffered only minor injuries. And deep gratitude that he was able to talk about it…

I was immediately called to the tonglen meditation I have been practicing. If you are curious about the practice, you can read about it online. What I remember most was the immediate thought to get over myself and to breathe in any embarrassment, frustration, shock, and pain Adam was feeling. Then I thought about his grandpa, his mom, Doug (his step-dad and racing partner), his older brother, and his younger sister. We were all there and we had all seen the crash. 

I let myself feel my own pain. What if Adam had been permanently or severely injured, or even killed? Then I thought about families whose loved one did not survive. And I let myself feel the pain that others have felt. How does one find a sense of gratitude again?

At other times in my life I might have thought I have some sort of advice to offer. That is not the case at this moment. At this moment, I know nothing other than deep gratitude.