Blue Sky

As I was riding my bike around Saint James City, here on Pine Island, in South Florida, the sky was so blue it almost hurt my eyes. I started thinking about the idea that what we see is not “real” but there is a reason why things appear the way they do.

For example, the reason the sky looks so blue is because as light move through the atmosphere, very little of the red, orange, and yellow light (longer wavelengths) is affected by it. Much more of the light with shorter wavelengths is absorbed by the gas molecules. Thus, blue light fills the sky, and some of it reaches my eyes, and the sky looks blue.

As I was riding and having these profound scientific ponderings, I began to hear a little jingle in my head. “If the sky is not blue, then who am I, and what are you?” I went automatically to a book I have written that is not yet been published. 

This drawing is by Meredith Bede Aldrich.

 Where Moon Go?

A look at

life and death

and other natural things

through a child’s eyes…

Did you ever wonder where someone

goes when he or she dies?

I did.

When my Daddy died, I wanted to know where he was and if

he was OK where he was.

I wanted to know what was REAL….

At first I did not know what it meant when I would hear a voice talking to me from inside my head as the moon slid behind a cloud or a tree or a building.

I would hear.

 “Where am I now?

It looks like I am gone,

but I am here….”

Even when what is real is very, very big

—like the moon—

false beliefs can be hard to change.

But where do people go when they die?

Adam said,

“It is like I am me and

I am inside this house.

(He pointed to his chest when he said this.)

When I die,

I leave the house

(He pointed to his chest again.)

but I am still me.”

But what is he?

And what am I?

And where do people go when they die?

Every living thing is made up of atoms.

(Not Adam!)

And energy cannot be created or destroyed.

If you're asking where it all came from in the first place,

that's a first class unanswered question.

Brad said when people die they live inside your heart.

It is like you can really talk to them inside your mind.

Go ahead. Ask a question.

And you will see that it is just like they really can answer you.

So, even though we might not know for sure where people go when they die, you can know for sure that part of them is right here where you are.

Because the moon has not gone anywhere.

It is still right where it was.

Even when we cannot see it.

The End

And

A New Beginning

The Shadow

A long time ago (1930’s), in a land far, far away (radio), a crime-fighting vigilante with supernatural abilities entertained us so profoundly that “The Shadow” made its way from radio to comic books, television, movies, and video games. Many of us are familiar with Orson Welles voice booming "Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Shadow knows!"

Since I was a kid I have been fascinated by the nature of shadow. First of all, there can be no shadow without light. In fact, shadow can be said to be the symptom or evidence of light. For the very best shadows, you need a place that is r-e-a-l-l-y dark. My favorite as a kid was the closet underneath the stairs. It is pitch black in there, and even kids have to scrunch down to fit. The childhood game I played was to use a flashlight, and with just a wee bit of your imagination, you can see the likes of rabbits and ducks and various other creatures come to life. 

As much fun as that shadow game was, shadow work as spiritual practice has not been something I have enjoyed. One might say at times I have been in downright resistance. I recognize the phenomenon known as “The dark night of the soul.” I understand the value of looking at the hidden places in our lives. I acknowledge that I have willingly been doing this, but I have not always loved the emotional journey.

It truly is paradise here on Pine Island in South Florida, but this is the second evening in a row that I find myself wanting to cry. I don’t know where the emotion is coming from or even what I would name it, were I inclined to try. The best I seem to be able to do is to honor that I am feeling it. OK, it might be hormones since the doctor told John I might experience menopause again. Gosh, and I was thinking I was done with that.

Perhaps that is part of the opportunity here. I can see these emotions as evidence of a younger me!

When you have faith that you are on the spiritual path,

then the immediate circumstances in life are less anxiety-producing,

and relationships can be built and also dismantled with less pain and trauma.

~ Angelic Messenger Cards, by Meredith L. Young-Sowers

When I did some asking about the emotions, the insight had to do with my spiritual path and service to the world and putting aside ego-mind. All of these are ideas I agree fully with but it would be great to have a sense of what specifically that means in my life right now. The emotions have a vague familiarity, like the homesickness I used to experience as a kid on overnights. All day long I would be fine, but when the sun went down I wanted to be home. I guess it is possible I am homesick since I am away from home. In fact, I have been away from home for almost a month and I am not due back in Michigan until April 1.

I wonder, though, if this is more shadow work. I am thinking it might be related to having time on my hands. When I feel sad, it would be great to have a sense of what the thoughts or beliefs are that had been fueling the emotions. Oh, for some people it is easy to read or watch TV or spend time on the internet as a distraction. It is not quite as easy to sit in stillness and let the answers find you.

I have sometimes been accused of being too serious. I have been known to agree with that assessment, but even that is just more condemnation of the accusation. What shines the light of day on this darkness of my thought life? Here is a writing from Sunday January 26, 1998:

Greetings:

The time of knowing is here. You no longer have to wait. By the knowing you come to the work you were born to be. Do not confuse these. You can not any longer be content to “do” the work - you must now “be” the work; my word to you is rest. This is not a call to unproductive lives. This is an invitation to peace, my perfect peace, while you are engaged in all that I call you to. Do not run out ahead of me. This is what causes you to despair. Do not delay in going when I have asked you to go. Listen to me. Incline your ear only to my voice. Listen no longer to the insane voices that would tell you you are a sinner or weak or lacking. Hear only the truth. You are whole as I am whole. You are free as I am free. You are capable as I am capable. You are because I AM. Tell all who know.

Who knew it could bring such joy, sitting in the dark… When you join the game of life worries are able to dance on the wall as creatures born with the soul/sole purpose of entertaining my busy mind. First make it larger, now smaller; give it an ear; turn the light off and make it all go away.

So here I am awake in the middle of the night. And in my mind’s ear I am singing, “I am so blessed, I am so blessed, I am so grateful for all that I have….” Thank you, Karen Drucker, for providing accompaniment to tonight’s performance of “Only The Shadow Knows.” 

Feathers in the Broad Wing of Time

"You are older at this moment than you’ve ever been before,

and it’s the youngest you’re ever going to get.

The mortality rate is holding at a scandalous 100 percent."

This quotation from the article “You Are Going to Die” by Tim Kreider is the first deep thought that I have on the early morning of my 63rd birthday. This deep thought sits in my mind like a wedge of fresh lemon sits on the tongue. It is still early enough to be dark as I am considering my own mortality in the screen room alongside the canal here in St. James City, Florida on this beloved Pine Island. At this moment I am hypersensitive to the sounds trickling in from outside: a few early birds, the splash of mullets jumping, some distant vehicles, and a faint Grandfather's clock chiming the hour. There's something both refreshing and painful about the truth of my mortality and I now hear Seals and Crofts singing in my head: "we may never pass this way again...."

Is 63 years too young to think of death? What about 70? I don't remember at what age my father began to say, "This may be my last Christmas…" but when my mother-in-law now says, "When I'm gone" my husband usually responds by asking her where she's going.

The truth is we're all going, and we don't consciously know when, where, and how. Born-again Christians focus on the where, preparing for the hereafter by accepting Jesus so they can be sure they are going to go to Heaven not Hell.

Whatever your beliefs, there is an inevitability to the movement of time. Many of the common metaphors around time are similar to the metaphors we often use for money. We talk about spending time and that it is important how we invest it. Perhaps at a deep level we do recognize that the moments of our lives are invaluable.

Angeles Arrien, cross cultural anthropologist and author of The Four Fold Way, asks us to ponder what we want to do with this one wild, precious, thing called LIFE.

Eight weeks ago yesterday I went into surgery not knowing for sure how things would play now. Although I continue on my healing journey, which has included overcoming some of the postsurgical complications, the prognosis for my living a long and happy life is good. We are all very thankful for that....

Betty Lue Lieber wrote in her Loving Reminders, "When we validate other’s illnesses, we increase our own likelihood of the same. We are all living out the thoughts and beliefs of those with whom we associate and agree with. Your experience was not yours personally."

If she is right and it is true that we are all living out the thoughts and beliefs of those with whom we associate and agree with, inside, what am I thinking and believing and how do I feel? Young? Old? Middle-aged? This morning, sitting here, witnessing dawn revealing the canal to my still-somewhat-drowsy eyes, the truth is I feel as though I am ageless. This morning, drunk with the elixir of another tropical dawn, the idea that I am older at this moment than I've ever been before, and the youngest I'm ever going to get has my heart soaring with glee.

I've spent the last four days keeping up with 14-year-old granddaughter, Courtney. We have been hiking, biking, kayaking, drumming, driving, and drinking and eating all over these islands. We've enjoyed close encounters with nature including Eagle, Manatee, and this Dolphin checking Courtney out in the photo below. We have been making memories. 

I remember when my own mother was aging, hearing her express regret and remorse that she had wasted her life. I think now about her legacy, of which I am an intimate part. I think about my own beloved daughter, Courtney's mom, Stacey. And I think about the possibility of yet-unborn-great-grandchildren in the future.

But more importantly than what has been or what might yet come to be, at this moment I treasure that my heart is beating in my chest. I am humbled to have eyes to see the darkness, the dimness of dawn, the brilliance of the noon-day sun, and the shadow of eventide. I'm grateful that at most moments, on most days I seem to be in my right mind. I am grateful to choose to be alive!

And today this poem represents my birthday wishes to me:

What a day this is; my empty slate
on which each thought creates my experience

If I hold hatred, I experience that
As I embrace love, I witness the same

Breathe
Release
Remember
Revere

There is much more sweetness than cake

There is much more sour than lemon

There is much more death than body

There is much more life than physical

Today you can hoist your sail and face the wind

The breeze can be trusted to blow


This message from my beloved sister, Janis:
Happy birthday, my gosh..... You were such a darling baby and little girl who has grown into an amazing and beautiful woman. So blessed to have known you your entire life. Have a fabulous day. I love you!!!!

This message from my beloved sister, Johnnie Sue:
A moment I remember with Daddy for you is the day you and Dad were in the accident. When I walked into the bedroom where he was lying,I asked how he was. With tears in his eyes he said,"I am OK but ‘diba dab…’ and he could not go on. He loved you very much and so do I...

I will close with a quotation by Victor Hugo, “The supreme happiness of life is the conviction of being loved for yourself, or more correctly, being loved in spite of yourself.” This is a very comforting message for this anniversary day of my birth. How can it get any better than this?

The Puzzle

May I forgive myself for mistakes made and things left undone.

"Encountering Grief: A 10-Minute Guided Meditation"

with Zen Abbot, Joan Halifax

When I was on Pine Island last winter, I purchased a 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzle that featured the area. It had been produced by the Chamber of Commerce, and was sold in the featured businesses. Just a couple of days before I arrived, an arsonist set a fire that totally destroyed the offices of the Chamber, and the inventory of the puzzles. The ones that were already in stores were the only copies of the puzzle, so when I saw one for sale at a favorite shop (Earth and Spirit Garden Gallery), I purchased mine. 

The puzzle when home with me unopened, and returned back to Pine Island with me still in the box. Given that I am still recovering from surgery in November, I decided having the puzzle to work on would be a good recovery tool. I was not prepared for the lessons that working toward completion on a 1,000 piece puzzle might present, but I am certainly thankful.

The title of this blog might have been, “All I Really Needed to Know I Learned Putting Together the Pine Island Puzzle.” 

I learned that it is good to have a very big table if you are working on a puzzle that is 2 feet wide and 30 inches tall. When I first laid out all the pieces, the entire dining table was covered. Our meals were eaten at the breakfast bar in the kitchen or on TV trays in the screen room. In some ways, this reminded me of how much of my life was affected by my recent healing journey. The process leading up to the surgery, the surgery itself, the post-surgical complications, the recovery…. Any single aspect could have had a significant impact on my schedule, and with all the pieces spread out, it feels a bit like November and December 2012 did not exist for me. But, like the Pine Island puzzle, you can only take one step at a time. 

Separate all the straight-edged pieces so you can assemble the border. Think about doing this process with 1,000 pieces. Some days this is what life feels like. It can be a bit overwhelming, even when you are clear that you can only do what you can do at any given moment. 

After the border was assembled, I decided to work on the next layer inward. There was lots of detail in that, so it was easier to see what went where. Sometimes our choices are so obvious, they are sometimes called “a no-brainer.” I was surprised how obsessed I became working on the puzzle. It was as though it was my job to finish it, and I guess that is true since I was the only one working on it. 

Once in a while I would get stumped and give John the “job” of helping me find a certain piece in the image on the box. After a few days of that, he went to the flea market and bought me a set of magnifying glasses…. 

I discovered that the daytime light was best, but it seemed such a waste of sunny weather to be in the house putting together a puzzle. We do sometimes find ourselves stuck somewhere in our minds rather than enjoying the experiences of our lives. To remedy this, I would use some time in the morning when the light was good and John was still sleeping to sort for finer distinctions. 

General colors would go together. Then within that color I would put the shorter and taller and fatter and thinner “H” shaped pieces in an area for each according to color and size. Once John was up and had coffee and breakfast, we would go for our bike ride. As the puzzle was coming together, my healing seemed to be doing the same. I am thrilled at how much stronger I am in just one week! 

After the outer and inner borders were in place, I would put focused attention on an area where several pieces came together. Most of the task was visual, but it demanded paying attention to details. I have noticed that amplified awareness about what I eat or what I think or how I sit or breathe. It is really a gift to allow everything in life to be welcomed as spiritual practice. 

For example, I notice how I think about trash I see around the island. Rather than be critical about who was careless or even malicious, I notice what a sense of honor I have at cleaning it up (even though I know I was not the one who left the mess). Regardless of the specific situation, and even if we are talking about emotional messes, this can be done without a sense of obligation (been shouldin’ on myself for too long).You can bring beauty where you are. You can contribute to the world. You can leave things better than you found them.

As I worked on the Pine Island puzzle, teachings I have heard seeped into my bones. I was putting the pieces of my own heart and mind and body together! The puzzle became for me a living metaphor, and I allowed images of my jigsaw belly to come together along with the images of the jigsaw puzzle.

As the last pieces were coming together, I was sharing via text with my sister, Janis. We were taking about the way our lives really are getting easier. For us, the joy of the natural world is a big part of the healing. Her cat is Dusana. I have wonderful cats in my life in Michigan, too, and here on the island I visit two cats. I visit Sonny at the auto shop, and Hector at the ice cream parlor. I go see these cats just because I love petting kitties and these two kitties love the attention. Sonny forgets to swallow and slobbers! Hector is very at home with himself and sleeps soundly even with crowds of customers around him. It is very sweet and loving them just feels purrfect, if you know what I mean….

When I had only twelve pieces left (who is counting?) to completion, John came in to help. I could have been resentful thinking about how overwhelming it was when there were 1,000 pieces to sort, but I was aware of him choosing to share the joy with me. It turned into a bit of a coaching session, with my sharing aloud how I use the visual strategy to spot the piece to go into the section I am working on. “It will be taller, or shorter, fatter or thinner….” I felt myself slide into the ease you experience when you know you do not have to do it all yourself. I enjoyed having him enjoy being able to see what would go where. It was a surprise and a pleasure, and rather Zen. 

He gave me the privilege of putting in the last piece, which was quite special as it was a piece that had been searched for over and over and over, seemingly without success. The missing piece was right in the middle, right at the top, of the puzzle. This was a very obvious piece, one that was within the "inner" border. When I was down to only seven pieces, I counted the open section to see if there was one for up there. You never know for sure if a piece is missing.

The mystery of the last piece of the puzzle is still with my heart and soul this evening. My own inner journey of healing is not complete just because the Pine Island puzzle is finished. 

Completion is a state of constant process. You are always complete and yet always evolving. As Abraham-Hicks has said, “You can’t get it wrong, because you can’t get it done.” I am very thankful for this truth. It lets you go to bed at night and sleep and dream well. Life will have another puzzle for us to live tomorrow. Life is not a puzzle where there is a last piece to be put in place. Life's puzzle is itself a living matrix.