The Agony of Defeat~
The power of the mind is truly something to be hold. Andy and I have been following the Masters for the past four days, inspired by the brilliant playing of Rory McIlroy, just twenty-one years old. He led all three rounds, until today. He was the leader through 10, and then fell apart.
This is when the 5 inches between the ears came into play!
We agonize and empathize for this young man. The pressure on him has been unbelievable. He had a moment when he crumbled on his driver, knowing it was all over.
This game of golf humbles you like no other game I've played. One moment you are striking the ball perfectly, and then the next you are watching the "stupid" little ball dribble 80 yards to the left (that was your drive)!
The way a golfer plays the game reveals much about who s/he really is. Conduct is paramount.
A Zen student went for an interview with his master.The studnet said, "I know this may require a very lengthy and complex answer, but I request guidelines for conducting myself wherever I am, so that my attitude and behavior are always excellent."
The master said, "Actually, the answer is quite brief and simple: In every situation, conduct yourself as if your five-year old child were watching you."
Rory, your five year old will be proud of you (when you have one)! I, on the other hand, have a lot of work to do!
Mind, Body, Spirit Connections
Sunday, April 10, 2011
Saturday, April 9, 2011
April 9, 2011
Marriage~
I was married to Andy exactly 6 months ago to the hour. Six months of bliss I might add. We have been celebrating all day, and I have openly declared us "dorks." I came home from a walk on the beach to 6 beautiful white roses and a card. I'm taking Andy out tonight for a romantic dinner at an Italian Restuarant.
As I walked on the beach this afternoon, I was in a state of bliss. So happy! A young man playfully threw a football at me. How delightful (I actually caught it!) As I was smiling about this interchange, a little boy, perhaps five at the most, holding a skim board looked at me and said, "Perfect conditions, don't you think?" His presence, sense of self, and clarity struck me and made me pause. "Yes, they are," I responded. Then I looked down at his skim board...it was a black and white yin/yang symbol!
Ah, God's presence is everywhere ~
I encourage all of you who are reading this blog to take a moment and ask where is God speaking to you? Is it a Cardinal who crosses your path and reminds you of a loved one? Is it a glance or gesture from your husband, wife, partner, daughter, son or friend that captures your heart? I believe that we must be in the present moment, fully awake, and open to the messages that are being sent to us by our carnate beings.
Are you awake?
I was married to Andy exactly 6 months ago to the hour. Six months of bliss I might add. We have been celebrating all day, and I have openly declared us "dorks." I came home from a walk on the beach to 6 beautiful white roses and a card. I'm taking Andy out tonight for a romantic dinner at an Italian Restuarant.
As I walked on the beach this afternoon, I was in a state of bliss. So happy! A young man playfully threw a football at me. How delightful (I actually caught it!) As I was smiling about this interchange, a little boy, perhaps five at the most, holding a skim board looked at me and said, "Perfect conditions, don't you think?" His presence, sense of self, and clarity struck me and made me pause. "Yes, they are," I responded. Then I looked down at his skim board...it was a black and white yin/yang symbol!
Ah, God's presence is everywhere ~
I encourage all of you who are reading this blog to take a moment and ask where is God speaking to you? Is it a Cardinal who crosses your path and reminds you of a loved one? Is it a glance or gesture from your husband, wife, partner, daughter, son or friend that captures your heart? I believe that we must be in the present moment, fully awake, and open to the messages that are being sent to us by our carnate beings.
Are you awake?
Friday, April 8, 2011
April 8, 2011
Prom Night~
My daughter is going to prom tonight. I met her at the "wall" in New Smyrna beach, a well know spot and apparently "the" spot to take pictures.
I was there with camera in hand. Zoe was BEAUTIFUL!! Yes, I know. I am completely biased...I'm her mother, so of course...but, she is beautiful, glowing in the setting sun and so happy to be going to prom.
And, now I worry. Because I am a mother. She is driving. It's prom. I don't know. Perhaps I am thinking about my prom night. It was different then. I must let go and surrender.
I will be up all night. I will call Zoe at 1am -- the time I have been given when prom is over.
It's going to be a long night~
My daughter is going to prom tonight. I met her at the "wall" in New Smyrna beach, a well know spot and apparently "the" spot to take pictures.
I was there with camera in hand. Zoe was BEAUTIFUL!! Yes, I know. I am completely biased...I'm her mother, so of course...but, she is beautiful, glowing in the setting sun and so happy to be going to prom.
And, now I worry. Because I am a mother. She is driving. It's prom. I don't know. Perhaps I am thinking about my prom night. It was different then. I must let go and surrender.
I will be up all night. I will call Zoe at 1am -- the time I have been given when prom is over.
Thursday, April 7, 2011
April 7, 2011
Our company is gone~
We love our family and friends. Moving to Florida is an open invitation to visit; an unspoken, widely accepted practice that can last three years or more. So I've heard.
No way!
Seriously, I want my family and friends to visit. I love being with them. But, we have had non-stop company for the last three weeks.
Phew~
Andy and I met outside on the porch, with a drink in hand, the Master's on, and toasted to the silence. We watched the last 6 holes played, looked at each other and said...."what are we waiting for?"
I'll leave it to your vivid imagination. All I'm saying is "Thank you God!"
We love our family and friends. Moving to Florida is an open invitation to visit; an unspoken, widely accepted practice that can last three years or more. So I've heard.
No way!
Seriously, I want my family and friends to visit. I love being with them. But, we have had non-stop company for the last three weeks.
Phew~
Andy and I met outside on the porch, with a drink in hand, the Master's on, and toasted to the silence. We watched the last 6 holes played, looked at each other and said...."what are we waiting for?"
I'll leave it to your vivid imagination. All I'm saying is "Thank you God!"
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
April 6, 2011
Cashmere = Kash~
I am paying extra attention to the last 10 days of my 49th year. Each day is an opportunity for reflection, honoring the past, and celebrating where I am in this moment. I am celebrating today and my daughter, Kash.
My husband's daughter, Kash, has been visiting us this week. Kash is short for Cashmere, with a "K" rather than a "C" so no one confuses the meaning with something substandard like "cash". Kash is Cashmere. Any woman lucky to own a few sweaters made of 100% cashmere will know what I am talking about. Luxuriant wool, a silken feel and feather-light weight that feels incredible against the skin. Cashmere's appreciable status makes it highly desirable.
Yet, cashmere hails from humble beginnings. Cashmere is the wool or fur from the Kashmire goat. My daughter, too, came from humble beginnings adopted by two loving parents who were unable to have a child of their own. Her story is bittersweet, and her journey has not been an easy one. I've been careful; knowing deeply that this young woman did not need one more disappointment or heartache in her life.
I've waited four years for this luxuriant cashmere to wrap herself around my shoulders. Yesterday, she gave me an orchid for my birthday. In her card, she said:
"I got you an orchid because it resembles me because it is delicate to touch and sensitive to what's around me and if you water me too much ("stress") I'll die. So, please, keep this orchid alive, give it a few ice cubes once a week and a little sunshine and everything will be alright."
I will care for this orchid with all my heart. And each time I gaze upon this orchid, I will be reminded of Kash, and how the wait has been well worth it.
I am paying extra attention to the last 10 days of my 49th year. Each day is an opportunity for reflection, honoring the past, and celebrating where I am in this moment. I am celebrating today and my daughter, Kash.
My husband's daughter, Kash, has been visiting us this week. Kash is short for Cashmere, with a "K" rather than a "C" so no one confuses the meaning with something substandard like "cash". Kash is Cashmere. Any woman lucky to own a few sweaters made of 100% cashmere will know what I am talking about. Luxuriant wool, a silken feel and feather-light weight that feels incredible against the skin. Cashmere's appreciable status makes it highly desirable.
Yet, cashmere hails from humble beginnings. Cashmere is the wool or fur from the Kashmire goat. My daughter, too, came from humble beginnings adopted by two loving parents who were unable to have a child of their own. Her story is bittersweet, and her journey has not been an easy one. I've been careful; knowing deeply that this young woman did not need one more disappointment or heartache in her life.
I've waited four years for this luxuriant cashmere to wrap herself around my shoulders. Yesterday, she gave me an orchid for my birthday. In her card, she said:
"I got you an orchid because it resembles me because it is delicate to touch and sensitive to what's around me and if you water me too much ("stress") I'll die. So, please, keep this orchid alive, give it a few ice cubes once a week and a little sunshine and everything will be alright."
I will care for this orchid with all my heart. And each time I gaze upon this orchid, I will be reminded of Kash, and how the wait has been well worth it.
Tuesday, April 5, 2011
April 5, 2011
Lessons from Japan~
I'm sitting at my desk staring at two tall stalks of bamboo lost in thought. My mind drifts to Japan and I feel both a sense of helplessness for the people suffering and awe for the way the people of Japan are working together to move through this tragedy. The opening paragraph of an article written by James Baraz, Huffington Post, eloquently desribes what many of us are experiencing as we continue to follow the events unfolding in Japan.
"What's happened in Japan affects all of us. Perhaps, like me, you've noticed a sober backdrop of stunned sadness that's been pervading our collective psyche. If we are to become more conscious human beings then each moment can be taken as an opportunity to wake up. What can we learn so that this tragedy helps us deepen our understanding and become more awake?"
I've taken the liberty of threading together fragments of his article to emphasis how important it is for each of us to live fully in the present moment, with hearts open, and in gratitude.
"The images coming out of Japan not only touch our hearts, they underscore the fragility of life. How can we relate to the unpredictability of life so that rather than living in a continual state of anxiety this truth helps us grow and informs our lives?
Knowing that anything can happen at any time can remind us to wake up and be present for life as it's happening now. Instead of sleepwalking through it, taking it for granted as we fantasize about the future or live in the past, life's fragility awakens us to the precious gift we've been given. When we realize that the only moment there is is the one we are in, we're more motivated to be here for it and honor it with our presence. It becomes a sacred gift worthy of our attention."
Do we need a tsunami to appreciate this gift?
Back in Fukushima, we hear of a team of 50 plant workers struggling to prevent a meltdown to four reactors critically damaged by the March 11 earthquake and tsunami. These brave souls are being repeatedly exposed to dangerously high radioactive levels as they attempt to bring vital cooling systems back online. A mother of a 32-year-old worker said: “My son and his colleagues have discussed it at length and they have committed themselves to die if necessary to save the nation. He told me they have accepted they will all probably die from radiation sickness in the short term or cancer in the long-term.”
This is where the awe kicks in. I am in awe of a nation who rather than rioting, stealing, and looting decides to pull together and do what ever it takes to help its people. These men and woman are willingly to give up their lives to save millions of their fellow citizens. The Japanese culture, perhaps from Hiroshima, have elected to reduce their electric consumption in order to assist the victims and allow the country to recover more quickly.
Let this be a wake up call for us. How can we, individually, wake up and be present? What are you going to do tomorrow that affirms the gift of life?
I'm sitting at my desk staring at two tall stalks of bamboo lost in thought. My mind drifts to Japan and I feel both a sense of helplessness for the people suffering and awe for the way the people of Japan are working together to move through this tragedy. The opening paragraph of an article written by James Baraz, Huffington Post, eloquently desribes what many of us are experiencing as we continue to follow the events unfolding in Japan.
"What's happened in Japan affects all of us. Perhaps, like me, you've noticed a sober backdrop of stunned sadness that's been pervading our collective psyche. If we are to become more conscious human beings then each moment can be taken as an opportunity to wake up. What can we learn so that this tragedy helps us deepen our understanding and become more awake?"
I've taken the liberty of threading together fragments of his article to emphasis how important it is for each of us to live fully in the present moment, with hearts open, and in gratitude.
"The images coming out of Japan not only touch our hearts, they underscore the fragility of life. How can we relate to the unpredictability of life so that rather than living in a continual state of anxiety this truth helps us grow and informs our lives?
Knowing that anything can happen at any time can remind us to wake up and be present for life as it's happening now. Instead of sleepwalking through it, taking it for granted as we fantasize about the future or live in the past, life's fragility awakens us to the precious gift we've been given. When we realize that the only moment there is is the one we are in, we're more motivated to be here for it and honor it with our presence. It becomes a sacred gift worthy of our attention."
Do we need a tsunami to appreciate this gift?
Back in Fukushima, we hear of a team of 50 plant workers struggling to prevent a meltdown to four reactors critically damaged by the March 11 earthquake and tsunami. These brave souls are being repeatedly exposed to dangerously high radioactive levels as they attempt to bring vital cooling systems back online. A mother of a 32-year-old worker said: “My son and his colleagues have discussed it at length and they have committed themselves to die if necessary to save the nation. He told me they have accepted they will all probably die from radiation sickness in the short term or cancer in the long-term.”
This is where the awe kicks in. I am in awe of a nation who rather than rioting, stealing, and looting decides to pull together and do what ever it takes to help its people. These men and woman are willingly to give up their lives to save millions of their fellow citizens. The Japanese culture, perhaps from Hiroshima, have elected to reduce their electric consumption in order to assist the victims and allow the country to recover more quickly.
Let this be a wake up call for us. How can we, individually, wake up and be present? What are you going to do tomorrow that affirms the gift of life?
Monday, April 4, 2011
April 4, 2011
First loves~
One never knows what is going to bubble up, or why. When I went into meditation, I was drawn back to my first love. In this remembering, once again I realized how fortunate I had been as a young girl to meet Scott and for him to be my first love. There are layers and details of this story that will not be told, but the important piece is that he was absolutely instrumental in forming the woman that I am in this moment.
Our story did not have a happy ending. I was not the heroine. Quite the contrary, I was the villian -- young, foolish, obtuse and confused. But, not stupid. I knew how special this young man was in my life. He loved me with all his heart, and I loved him deeply.
On my seventeenth birthday, Scott gave me a hand-made jewerly box that I still have with me to this day. It is beautifully made, with a rose inscribed on the top of the box. It was a few years later when I discovered and opened a secret compartment with the love letter inside.
Scott wrote:
"Chances are that you will never open this compartment and read this letter but I'm going to write it anyway." He goes on to say that this reminds him of the story "The Love Letter." This incredible young man, only twenty at this time, goes on to write:
"If we had 100 lives to live we could take a different path each time but we only have one and we must choose what is best for us to do at the time. I'm writing this because I want you to know that I don't hate you for what happened. No matter what happens or how I act, remember that."
His act of forgiveness in the midst of his pain still astounds me. Sad to say, I remained confused for many years not understanding the depth of his love or what it meant to truly love another.
What is of significance in this moment is the awareness on my part of how his love and ability to forgive has forged who I am today. Like your love letter, Scott, I am not sure you will ever read this, but I hope you know what an impact you have made in my life.
One never knows what is going to bubble up, or why. When I went into meditation, I was drawn back to my first love. In this remembering, once again I realized how fortunate I had been as a young girl to meet Scott and for him to be my first love. There are layers and details of this story that will not be told, but the important piece is that he was absolutely instrumental in forming the woman that I am in this moment.
Our story did not have a happy ending. I was not the heroine. Quite the contrary, I was the villian -- young, foolish, obtuse and confused. But, not stupid. I knew how special this young man was in my life. He loved me with all his heart, and I loved him deeply.
On my seventeenth birthday, Scott gave me a hand-made jewerly box that I still have with me to this day. It is beautifully made, with a rose inscribed on the top of the box. It was a few years later when I discovered and opened a secret compartment with the love letter inside.
Scott wrote:
"Chances are that you will never open this compartment and read this letter but I'm going to write it anyway." He goes on to say that this reminds him of the story "The Love Letter." This incredible young man, only twenty at this time, goes on to write:
"If we had 100 lives to live we could take a different path each time but we only have one and we must choose what is best for us to do at the time. I'm writing this because I want you to know that I don't hate you for what happened. No matter what happens or how I act, remember that."
His act of forgiveness in the midst of his pain still astounds me. Sad to say, I remained confused for many years not understanding the depth of his love or what it meant to truly love another.
What is of significance in this moment is the awareness on my part of how his love and ability to forgive has forged who I am today. Like your love letter, Scott, I am not sure you will ever read this, but I hope you know what an impact you have made in my life.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
April 3, 2011
The Road to Freedom~
My son came home from college today with a friend to do their laundry and visit. I treasure these brief moments with Max accepting that he is in a year of transition - new home, first year of college, and finding himself.
Max loves to push my buttons. For a few years, I didn't catch on and I became quite the "banshee" when he would say some outrageous statement just to make me crazy. He thought it was hysterical and believe me, I gave him plenty of reason to laugh!
Perhaps it is the distance, and not being around Max everyday, that has enabled me to step back with a new perspective and appreciation of his humor and beliefs. I am able to pare down to another level, ask for clarification, and actually have civil debates with him. I don't always agree, but I love observing how his mind works.
He's caught on that he isn't pushing my buttons anymore. This allows space for us to explore a different kind of relationship -- one of mutual respect and sharing of similar passions. Much to my delight, Max has discovered philosophy. One of the first philosophical books I read was Krishnamurti, Think on These Things. I pulled out my old, worn copy to show Max today. I had forgotten how timeless Krishnamurti's words are.
The following passage caught my attention:
My son came home from college today with a friend to do their laundry and visit. I treasure these brief moments with Max accepting that he is in a year of transition - new home, first year of college, and finding himself.
Max loves to push my buttons. For a few years, I didn't catch on and I became quite the "banshee" when he would say some outrageous statement just to make me crazy. He thought it was hysterical and believe me, I gave him plenty of reason to laugh!
Perhaps it is the distance, and not being around Max everyday, that has enabled me to step back with a new perspective and appreciation of his humor and beliefs. I am able to pare down to another level, ask for clarification, and actually have civil debates with him. I don't always agree, but I love observing how his mind works.
He's caught on that he isn't pushing my buttons anymore. This allows space for us to explore a different kind of relationship -- one of mutual respect and sharing of similar passions. Much to my delight, Max has discovered philosophy. One of the first philosophical books I read was Krishnamurti, Think on These Things. I pulled out my old, worn copy to show Max today. I had forgotten how timeless Krishnamurti's words are.
The following passage caught my attention:
"Whether in this world of politicians, power, position, and authority, or in the so-called spiritual world where you aspire to be virtuous, noble, saintly, the moment you want to be somebody you are no longer free. But the man or the woman who sees the absurdity of all these things and whose heart is therefore innocent, and therefore not moved by the desire to be somebody - such a person is free."
As I absorbed these words again, I realized that my son, Max, was well on the road to freedom. He's a thinker --not afraid to speak his mind, challenge authority (Lord knows), or go against the "popular or accepted" point of view.
I'm proud of him~
Saturday, April 2, 2011
April 2, 2011
Exhausted and peaceful~
I just returned from teaching the Reiki class today. It was a wonderful, warm, loving and inspiring day. Although I am drained physically, I am filled with a sense of gratitude and peace.
Sharing Reiki is a blessing. The woman I taught and attuned are amazing; each on a unique and personal journey.
Dr. Mikao Usui, who discovered and developed Reiki, emphasized five spiritual principles:
Just For Today:
Do not anger
Do not worry
Be humble (grateful)
Do your work honestly
Be compassionate to yourself and others
Start each day with these five principles and remember... never, ever, "should" yourself!!
I just returned from teaching the Reiki class today. It was a wonderful, warm, loving and inspiring day. Although I am drained physically, I am filled with a sense of gratitude and peace.
Sharing Reiki is a blessing. The woman I taught and attuned are amazing; each on a unique and personal journey.
Dr. Mikao Usui, who discovered and developed Reiki, emphasized five spiritual principles:
Just For Today:
Do not anger
Do not worry
Be humble (grateful)
Do your work honestly
Be compassionate to yourself and others
Start each day with these five principles and remember... never, ever, "should" yourself!!
Friday, April 1, 2011
April 1, 2011
Remembering a friend~
Tomorrow I will teach my first Reiki class in over 7 years. I am thrilled and honored and looking forward to initiating these three beautiful woman to the incredible healing energy of Reiki.
As it has been so long since I last taught a class, I've been reviewing my old Reiki papers, writings, and the symbols. As I sifted through these papers, I found a sticky note on top of one stack with a name and number.
Monica~
Monica was a beautiful German woman who worked at the Alzheimer's Association in Indianapolis. I was the Program Director and Monica and I became quick friends. She had left Germany as a young girl, both parents dead, and came to live in America with distant relatives. Her life had not been easy. And, yet, Monica was an extraordinary person who had such a light. This remarkable woman showed up to work every day enthusiastic, willing to go the extra mile, and was a joy to be around.
In one of our conversations, she learned that I was a Reiki master and asked me to teach a class. I did for her and a couple of the other staff interested in healing. It was the last class I taught. Monica would ask me to please teach her Reiki II. She loved Reiki and wanted to learn more. She would gently remind me every three months or so. I promised her I would, but I was TOO busy to make the time...teenage kids, a divorce, and then I eventually left the Alzheimer's Association.
It was not long after I left the Association that I was called and informed that Monica had been murdered. She had gone home to walk her dog during her lunch hour, as she always did, and happened on someone burglarizing her home.
I've never spoken or written of my profound regret that I did not teach Monica Reiki II. It still haunts me. How could I have let this beautiful soul down?
I hope you join us tomorrow Monica. I know you have forgiven me, even if I have not forgiven myself.
I miss you~
Tomorrow I will teach my first Reiki class in over 7 years. I am thrilled and honored and looking forward to initiating these three beautiful woman to the incredible healing energy of Reiki.
As it has been so long since I last taught a class, I've been reviewing my old Reiki papers, writings, and the symbols. As I sifted through these papers, I found a sticky note on top of one stack with a name and number.
Monica~
Monica was a beautiful German woman who worked at the Alzheimer's Association in Indianapolis. I was the Program Director and Monica and I became quick friends. She had left Germany as a young girl, both parents dead, and came to live in America with distant relatives. Her life had not been easy. And, yet, Monica was an extraordinary person who had such a light. This remarkable woman showed up to work every day enthusiastic, willing to go the extra mile, and was a joy to be around.
In one of our conversations, she learned that I was a Reiki master and asked me to teach a class. I did for her and a couple of the other staff interested in healing. It was the last class I taught. Monica would ask me to please teach her Reiki II. She loved Reiki and wanted to learn more. She would gently remind me every three months or so. I promised her I would, but I was TOO busy to make the time...teenage kids, a divorce, and then I eventually left the Alzheimer's Association.
It was not long after I left the Association that I was called and informed that Monica had been murdered. She had gone home to walk her dog during her lunch hour, as she always did, and happened on someone burglarizing her home.
I've never spoken or written of my profound regret that I did not teach Monica Reiki II. It still haunts me. How could I have let this beautiful soul down?
I hope you join us tomorrow Monica. I know you have forgiven me, even if I have not forgiven myself.
I miss you~
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