We are thirsty~
This glorious weekend spent with six loving woman was the perfect way to end the month of January. The warmth of the weekend is holding me steadfast as I stroke my mother's face, and hold her hand. It's been a long day, but I want to write about a common thread we shared this weekend -- our thirst for nourishment. Spiritual nourishment, companionship, the healing energy of the earth,good food and laughter, cleansing tears, silence, and the deep sense of gratitude felt when we are listened to without judgment, fully and completely, and understood.
We are thirsty~
It is not often that we can escape our busy lives and spend a weekend quenching our thirst and being nourished. So how do we find nourishment in the midst of daily life?
Too often, we sense that ache and we fill it mindlessly, easily slipping into familiar habits that no longer nourish us -- TV, junk food, cigarettes, alcohol, computer games, gossip or other distractions that draw us away from ourselves. But, what if we were to take a deep breath when we become aware of this ache and ask,
"What is it that I really need in this moment?"
What bubbles up -- listen carefully. A cup of tea? A walk outside? A hot bath? Maybe you hear an old friend's name, and a gentle urge to call and re-connect. Or, you are drawn to a favorite book, collection of poems, or a piece of music. Maybe it's to just stop what you are doing and give your husband, wife, partner, child, grandchild, dog or cat a hug and feel that physical contact. Maybe it's taking a nap, or time to meditate, pray or reflect.
Whatever it is, follow your inner wisdom and allow your spirit to be nourished and filled. We live in a world where we are often giving to the point of depletion, always 'doing' and we forget how important it is to take time to "fill our well".
And by all means, if the well is filled, pop yourself a big bowl of popcorn (with butter, of course) and indulge in a movie!
Mind, Body, Spirit Connections
Monday, January 31, 2011
Sunday, January 30, 2011
January 30, 2011
"Oh, you didn't meet me!"
I awoke this morning with an email from my husband Andy. He was directed to write about the first time he met my mother. I was stunned when I read what he wrote -- thank you my dear, loving husband. I share this with all of you~
"It was still a cool New England spring day. I had never met my future wife's Mother. I had heard stories of the "Dragon Lady". I had heard how she could take a loaf of Pepperidge Farm bread and a tin of ham salad and feed the multitudes. I knew of her wonderful artistic talents. I knew of her spiritual explorations.
I knew of the cultural, educational, artistic, and spiritual exposure she had given Jen at early ages. I worshiped the woman she had birthed and raised.
I knew the great kidnapping story and the changes her disease had made in her. I heard Jen's telling of the wonderful, magical weekend of forgiveness and healing she had with her mother the prior winter when she stayed for a long weekend so her father could be away.
BUT...I had never met the MRS.
It was of course a bit ackward. I was new to the whole family even though I had known Jen for years. I met her in the activity room of the Alzheimer's unit where she had recently moved. She looked at me with penetrating eyes as we were introduced. We had a rather quiet meal in the cafeteria and walked a bit outside, although there was still a chill in the air.
Jen and I walked around the halls of the facility as her father took her Mom back upstairs.
We went up to say goodbye.
I said, "It was nice to meet you", as my parting remark and shook her hand. She held tight to my hand, looked straight through me, and said
"Oh, you didn't meet me!!!!"
Two thoughts... how frightening to be trapped inside with Alzheimer's in control and yet to be aware.
And...how many people do we come in contact with who really get to meet us?"
I awoke this morning with an email from my husband Andy. He was directed to write about the first time he met my mother. I was stunned when I read what he wrote -- thank you my dear, loving husband. I share this with all of you~
"It was still a cool New England spring day. I had never met my future wife's Mother. I had heard stories of the "Dragon Lady". I had heard how she could take a loaf of Pepperidge Farm bread and a tin of ham salad and feed the multitudes. I knew of her wonderful artistic talents. I knew of her spiritual explorations.
I knew of the cultural, educational, artistic, and spiritual exposure she had given Jen at early ages. I worshiped the woman she had birthed and raised.
I knew the great kidnapping story and the changes her disease had made in her. I heard Jen's telling of the wonderful, magical weekend of forgiveness and healing she had with her mother the prior winter when she stayed for a long weekend so her father could be away.
BUT...I had never met the MRS.
It was of course a bit ackward. I was new to the whole family even though I had known Jen for years. I met her in the activity room of the Alzheimer's unit where she had recently moved. She looked at me with penetrating eyes as we were introduced. We had a rather quiet meal in the cafeteria and walked a bit outside, although there was still a chill in the air.
Jen and I walked around the halls of the facility as her father took her Mom back upstairs.
We went up to say goodbye.
I said, "It was nice to meet you", as my parting remark and shook her hand. She held tight to my hand, looked straight through me, and said
"Oh, you didn't meet me!!!!"
Two thoughts... how frightening to be trapped inside with Alzheimer's in control and yet to be aware.
And...how many people do we come in contact with who really get to meet us?"
Saturday, January 29, 2011
January 29, 2011
It's raining and the track is slippery~
A few hours after I posted yesterday's blog, my mother fell. She fractured her hip requiring surgery to replace the ball and stem. Surgery is scheduled for tomorrow morning.
I do not need to go into the details or complexities that face us.
My dad is sitting by her side as I write - filled with heartache knowing how badly she is suffering as he broke his hip years ago.
I am in the desert thankfully surrounded by strong, loving woman who can hold and support me as we wait for the outcome of my mother's surgery. We will hold her and my family surrendering to what is in my mom's "highest and best".
A few hours after I posted yesterday's blog, my mother fell. She fractured her hip requiring surgery to replace the ball and stem. Surgery is scheduled for tomorrow morning.
I do not need to go into the details or complexities that face us.
My dad is sitting by her side as I write - filled with heartache knowing how badly she is suffering as he broke his hip years ago.
I am in the desert thankfully surrounded by strong, loving woman who can hold and support me as we wait for the outcome of my mother's surgery. We will hold her and my family surrendering to what is in my mom's "highest and best".
Friday, January 28, 2011
January 28, 2011
The Art of Racing in the Rain~
I have just finished reading The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein. I had given the book to my father for Christmas. I asked him the other night if he had finished the book. “Oh no”, he exclaimed, “ I am parceling it out. I don’t want it to end!” No further incentive was needed, I headed for the library the next day and checked the book out.
Unlike my father, I devoured the book in two hours on my flight to Phoenix. For those who have not read the book, it is a story written entirely from a dog’s perspective. If you have ever loved and lost a dog, it is a must read. If you have never had a dog, it is a must read!
A heart-wrenching story of love, loyalty, hope, and what it takes to be a true champion -- to stay the course even in the rain.
I closed my eyes allowing the story to melt into my bones and thought about my father and his champion race. How he waited thirty years for the love of his life to fall back in love with him. It took Alzheimer’s slow and agonizing progression to wind itself around the parts of my mother’s brain that held fast to her anger, unhappiness and the stories that no longer served her. Cell by cell this relentless disease dissolved those memories and left in its wake a heart, tender and open, to loving in ways she had long forgotten.
Dad welcomed her newly found love for him without anger, bitterness, or grief over time lost. He gratefully and happily accepted mom’s love and the opportunity to care for her. I watched them from a distance, much like “Enzo” the dog in the book, feeling privileged to witness their bittersweet race. They had three precious years before he had to move her into assisted living; where it is now raining in their final laps. I am cheering them both on for the love rekindled between them, for the compassion, and tenderness my father shows my mother each time he visits her, and for my mother’s grace and courage as she struggles to communicate in a world that no longer makes sense.
I pause in my reflection and ask, “How well am I racing in the rain?”
I have just finished reading The Art of Racing in the Rain by Garth Stein. I had given the book to my father for Christmas. I asked him the other night if he had finished the book. “Oh no”, he exclaimed, “ I am parceling it out. I don’t want it to end!” No further incentive was needed, I headed for the library the next day and checked the book out.
Unlike my father, I devoured the book in two hours on my flight to Phoenix. For those who have not read the book, it is a story written entirely from a dog’s perspective. If you have ever loved and lost a dog, it is a must read. If you have never had a dog, it is a must read!
A heart-wrenching story of love, loyalty, hope, and what it takes to be a true champion -- to stay the course even in the rain.
I closed my eyes allowing the story to melt into my bones and thought about my father and his champion race. How he waited thirty years for the love of his life to fall back in love with him. It took Alzheimer’s slow and agonizing progression to wind itself around the parts of my mother’s brain that held fast to her anger, unhappiness and the stories that no longer served her. Cell by cell this relentless disease dissolved those memories and left in its wake a heart, tender and open, to loving in ways she had long forgotten.
Dad welcomed her newly found love for him without anger, bitterness, or grief over time lost. He gratefully and happily accepted mom’s love and the opportunity to care for her. I watched them from a distance, much like “Enzo” the dog in the book, feeling privileged to witness their bittersweet race. They had three precious years before he had to move her into assisted living; where it is now raining in their final laps. I am cheering them both on for the love rekindled between them, for the compassion, and tenderness my father shows my mother each time he visits her, and for my mother’s grace and courage as she struggles to communicate in a world that no longer makes sense.
I pause in my reflection and ask, “How well am I racing in the rain?”
Thursday, January 27, 2011
January 27, 2011
Sharing joy~
In less than an hour, I head for the airport to fly into Phoenix. From there, I will take a shuttle into Tuscon. Five woman from all over the county are flying in to spend a weekend together at a beautiful ranch in the desert outside of Tuscon. We met last summer at the Omega Institute (New York); strangers brought together by a generous friend that we all share in common.
We are thrilled to be together again. It will be a weekend of sisterhood and deepening connections. A time to spend hiking in the raw, majestic desert, learning and sharing from each other, and deeply connecting to mother earth.
For me, it will also be a time of reflection, especially on the abundant blessings of January 2011. I had no idea when I started this blog, that anyone would read it. I get notes almost daily from friends who are reading, and stories of how they are passing the blog on and gifting journals to others. I went onto Google Analytics the other day (yes, only a fluke that I know of this amazing tool and how to use it!) and was startled to see where the Intent Heals website and blog were being opened -- Netherlands, Slovenia, Denmark, India, Russia, Canada, Germany, Ukraine, Japan and Hong Kong.
Tears of joy. The vision of Intent Heals is to promote awareness of global interdependency and our interconnectedness to one another. It's happening!
One person at a time, one country at a time, one prayer at a time.
In less than an hour, I head for the airport to fly into Phoenix. From there, I will take a shuttle into Tuscon. Five woman from all over the county are flying in to spend a weekend together at a beautiful ranch in the desert outside of Tuscon. We met last summer at the Omega Institute (New York); strangers brought together by a generous friend that we all share in common.
We are thrilled to be together again. It will be a weekend of sisterhood and deepening connections. A time to spend hiking in the raw, majestic desert, learning and sharing from each other, and deeply connecting to mother earth.
For me, it will also be a time of reflection, especially on the abundant blessings of January 2011. I had no idea when I started this blog, that anyone would read it. I get notes almost daily from friends who are reading, and stories of how they are passing the blog on and gifting journals to others. I went onto Google Analytics the other day (yes, only a fluke that I know of this amazing tool and how to use it!) and was startled to see where the Intent Heals website and blog were being opened -- Netherlands, Slovenia, Denmark, India, Russia, Canada, Germany, Ukraine, Japan and Hong Kong.
Tears of joy. The vision of Intent Heals is to promote awareness of global interdependency and our interconnectedness to one another. It's happening!
One person at a time, one country at a time, one prayer at a time.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
January 26, 2011
Laughter~
My day started with the warm, raucous laughter of five woman friends crammed into a car headed for early morning yoga class. We carpool for all of the obvious reasons. The real reason, however, became delightfully clear to me as I laughed at the bantering back and forth.
I was filled with such warmth and gratitude to be amongst these women; to share in their lives, to hear their stories, to be part of the good natured kidding. I am the "new" kid on the block and I realized this morning how fortunate I was to have found "community". We share bits of our lives in the 20 mile journey between our homes and the yoga class -- deaths, births, cancers, fears, latest movies, favorite recipes and books.
And, we laugh! Of course this energy spills over into the yoga class, as laughter is contagious and soon there are 16 woman, ages 50-80, laughing. It is a joyous sound and energy to be immersed in.
Find someone to laugh with today. Or, laugh at yourself! It feels good~
My day started with the warm, raucous laughter of five woman friends crammed into a car headed for early morning yoga class. We carpool for all of the obvious reasons. The real reason, however, became delightfully clear to me as I laughed at the bantering back and forth.
I was filled with such warmth and gratitude to be amongst these women; to share in their lives, to hear their stories, to be part of the good natured kidding. I am the "new" kid on the block and I realized this morning how fortunate I was to have found "community". We share bits of our lives in the 20 mile journey between our homes and the yoga class -- deaths, births, cancers, fears, latest movies, favorite recipes and books.
And, we laugh! Of course this energy spills over into the yoga class, as laughter is contagious and soon there are 16 woman, ages 50-80, laughing. It is a joyous sound and energy to be immersed in.
Find someone to laugh with today. Or, laugh at yourself! It feels good~
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
January 25, 2011
Strand of Pearls~
Love was the Word bubbling up in meditation this morning.
I reflected on what love is "not". Love is not my expectations of another, love is not my projections on another, love is not something I can contain.
My experience of love has been all of the above which has resulted in unnecessary pain. I know when I have not been loving; when I have projected, expected, and somehow thought I could capture love and keep it safely contained. (I think this goes back to some carefully held, albeit deluded, notion that I have control)!
After acknowledging what love is not, I opened to the daily moments of joy, the unexpected swell of love experienced, when the heart opens and unfolds in deep connection and remembrance. Like an exquiste strand of pearls, our days are filled with these moments of awareness when we, without any effort on our part, experience these jewels of love, joy, grace and our divinity.
Often, the moment takes us by surprise and we are delighted.
My pearls so far this morning -- my husband's hand in mine as I awoke, catching a glimpse of my favorite male cardinal landing on his branch, the first smell and taste of coffee, my daughter rolling her eyes at me with a smile that says 'I love you so much, even if you are bugging me right now', the deliciousness of the hot water spraying against my skin in the shower, the email from my sister --
Tonight, I will hold my strand of pearls and lovingly revisit each one with gratitude and then let them go.
What will be your pearls today?
Love was the Word bubbling up in meditation this morning.
I reflected on what love is "not". Love is not my expectations of another, love is not my projections on another, love is not something I can contain.
My experience of love has been all of the above which has resulted in unnecessary pain. I know when I have not been loving; when I have projected, expected, and somehow thought I could capture love and keep it safely contained. (I think this goes back to some carefully held, albeit deluded, notion that I have control)!
After acknowledging what love is not, I opened to the daily moments of joy, the unexpected swell of love experienced, when the heart opens and unfolds in deep connection and remembrance. Like an exquiste strand of pearls, our days are filled with these moments of awareness when we, without any effort on our part, experience these jewels of love, joy, grace and our divinity.
Often, the moment takes us by surprise and we are delighted.
My pearls so far this morning -- my husband's hand in mine as I awoke, catching a glimpse of my favorite male cardinal landing on his branch, the first smell and taste of coffee, my daughter rolling her eyes at me with a smile that says 'I love you so much, even if you are bugging me right now', the deliciousness of the hot water spraying against my skin in the shower, the email from my sister --
Tonight, I will hold my strand of pearls and lovingly revisit each one with gratitude and then let them go.
What will be your pearls today?
Monday, January 24, 2011
January 24, 2011
Finding a moment~
Today has been one of those days where it seems like each minute is spilling into the next with places to be, people to be with, and things to do. This is the first moment I have had to sit, be still, and write.
Unfortunately, this minute is spilling into the next thought that I need to be on the road in the next half hour. One of my initial fears when being directed to write this blog daily was the issue of time. What about those days when there was no time? This is one of them.
I've decided to let it go. How freeing is that? Instead of being stressed out, anxious, and making myself crazy...I am going to let this go. Today is a day of doing -being with people, healing sessions, and other daily tasks that are demanding my time.
I celebrate the beautiful souls I am 'being with' and 'the doing' that has claimed my attention, time and energy.
Today has been one of those days where it seems like each minute is spilling into the next with places to be, people to be with, and things to do. This is the first moment I have had to sit, be still, and write.
Unfortunately, this minute is spilling into the next thought that I need to be on the road in the next half hour. One of my initial fears when being directed to write this blog daily was the issue of time. What about those days when there was no time? This is one of them.
I've decided to let it go. How freeing is that? Instead of being stressed out, anxious, and making myself crazy...I am going to let this go. Today is a day of doing -being with people, healing sessions, and other daily tasks that are demanding my time.
I celebrate the beautiful souls I am 'being with' and 'the doing' that has claimed my attention, time and energy.
Sunday, January 23, 2011
January 22, 2011
The Witness~
How often do we beat ourselves up? Are we even aware of the incessant messages we send to ourselves that are not loving and kind? How do we catch ourselves and extract from the internal dialogue that cripples us. First, we must be aware that we are engaged in this defeating internal dialogue. I call this being the "witness".
Yesterday, I witnessed how effortlessly and artfully my mind dragged me into the boxing ring of "my old story". It went something like this: "You hurt him with your words. Feel that dis-connect? He loves you less". The trigger igniting the original wounding was "love is not unconditional" -- if you are not perfect, performing, happy, making others happy, doing good, etc. you will not be loved.
For how many of us is this true?
I know I have spent half my life unlearning these destructive messages. Nevertheless, the emotional scars can still be triggered. This is when it is helpful to be able to pull out of yourself (your mind) and become the witness. You can watch the story unfold and at the very least, be able to say "Ahh, I know what is happening here. I am sliding down the rabbit hole. I can stop this whenever I choose". Just being able to witness allows you the opportunity to see and feel that this is not real -- it's just your story.
Last night in bed, I whispered to my husband that I was going to fill the rabbit hole with dirt. He wisely suggested that I use concrete!!
How often do we beat ourselves up? Are we even aware of the incessant messages we send to ourselves that are not loving and kind? How do we catch ourselves and extract from the internal dialogue that cripples us. First, we must be aware that we are engaged in this defeating internal dialogue. I call this being the "witness".
Yesterday, I witnessed how effortlessly and artfully my mind dragged me into the boxing ring of "my old story". It went something like this: "You hurt him with your words. Feel that dis-connect? He loves you less". The trigger igniting the original wounding was "love is not unconditional" -- if you are not perfect, performing, happy, making others happy, doing good, etc. you will not be loved.
For how many of us is this true?
I know I have spent half my life unlearning these destructive messages. Nevertheless, the emotional scars can still be triggered. This is when it is helpful to be able to pull out of yourself (your mind) and become the witness. You can watch the story unfold and at the very least, be able to say "Ahh, I know what is happening here. I am sliding down the rabbit hole. I can stop this whenever I choose". Just being able to witness allows you the opportunity to see and feel that this is not real -- it's just your story.
Last night in bed, I whispered to my husband that I was going to fill the rabbit hole with dirt. He wisely suggested that I use concrete!!
Saturday, January 22, 2011
January 22, 2011
A gift~
A beautiful, grace-filled friend gifted me by sharing the book, The Infinite Way, by Joel Goldsmith.
"The wave is one with the ocean, indivisible and inseperable from the whole ocean. All that the ocean is, the wave is: and all the power, all the energy, all the strength, all the life, and all the substance of the ocean are expressed by every wave. As a wave is one with the ocean, so you are one with God. Your oneness with the universal Life constitutes your oneness with every individual expression of that Life; your oneness with the divine Consciousness constitutes your oneness with every idea of Consciousness. As the infinity of God surges through you to bless all with whom you come in contact, remember that the infinity of God is also surging through every other individual on earth to you." (Goldsmith, pg. 98,99)
How beautifully stated. I feel my expansiveness as I try to embrace and allow this knowing to unfold.
And, yes, the duality of the world knocks on my door begging to be heard and heeded every day. It is only when I turn inward and listen to the "small, still voice" of my soul, of divine Love and Grace, of God-consciousness that I am gently reminded of what is truly real.
Each day I awaken, each person that crosses my path, every thought and experience I have is an opportunity to see beyond this appearance of duality and dive into the ocean of oneness.
A beautiful, grace-filled friend gifted me by sharing the book, The Infinite Way, by Joel Goldsmith.
"The wave is one with the ocean, indivisible and inseperable from the whole ocean. All that the ocean is, the wave is: and all the power, all the energy, all the strength, all the life, and all the substance of the ocean are expressed by every wave. As a wave is one with the ocean, so you are one with God. Your oneness with the universal Life constitutes your oneness with every individual expression of that Life; your oneness with the divine Consciousness constitutes your oneness with every idea of Consciousness. As the infinity of God surges through you to bless all with whom you come in contact, remember that the infinity of God is also surging through every other individual on earth to you." (Goldsmith, pg. 98,99)
How beautifully stated. I feel my expansiveness as I try to embrace and allow this knowing to unfold.
And, yes, the duality of the world knocks on my door begging to be heard and heeded every day. It is only when I turn inward and listen to the "small, still voice" of my soul, of divine Love and Grace, of God-consciousness that I am gently reminded of what is truly real.
Each day I awaken, each person that crosses my path, every thought and experience I have is an opportunity to see beyond this appearance of duality and dive into the ocean of oneness.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)