A New Kind of News for a New Kind of Earth?

When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love has always won. There have been tyrants and murderers and for a time they seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall – think of it, always.                                                 Ghandi

I spent most of today watching the events in Boston as they unfolded on tv.  As I watched, I had many, meandering thoughts as I’m sure many of you did and do. My thoughts tend to go in many different and somewhat wild directions however as I tend to now view these events as to how they relate to the evolution and hopefully the potential ascension of our species.

I am one of those people who could be considered an “empath.”  I absorb other people’s and my own energy – often to my detriment.  I absorb it all and all the way around. In addition to weeping and grieving for victims of tragedy I also find myself wondering  about the pain of the person who everyone wants to hate. I wonder how the same God that creates our light can also create such darkness in our own kind.  I think about what it must be like to be that person who is borne with that ugliness inside of them – what that must feel like to be hated or to hate or to be the one to have THAT be your purpose and your legacy in life.  Why. When. How.  It cant feel very good to feel that way inside. Nor can it feel good to those who bore them or raised them.

Because of this I also have trouble watching the news, especially as it is often portrayed.  Too much incomprehension or sadness or fear outweighing the hopeful or funny or cheerful.   I absorb sad, bad, inhumane etc  and it affects me.  Its hard for me to sit with it or to understand it even though I know its part of the human condition.  I know I’m naïve but I have trouble with labels like “evil” because I fundamentally believe that everything derives from the same divinity. I think such labels scare us and separate us; they simplify things and keep us from asking some questions that might need to be asked to truly understand the necessity of souls such as these to be present on this planet.  I wonder what it is about this being human thing that we even need it anymore.  And why we are so transfixed by it.  Me too.

I tried really hard not to watch the Boston coverage on the first day because of this but like all of us was invariably and inexorably drawn in, especially today.

But why is it?  Why are we so drawn in?  There is always the compelling stories of community and love and our being the best that we can be that come alongside the examples of the worst that we can be as human beings. We need this and each other and that sense of community amongst such horror.   But my question is this,  at this point in our species evolution, and after proving it time and time again, through tragic event after tragic event through tragic event, do we really still need such tragedy and terror to bring forth the inherent goodness and courageousness of people?  Do we really need bad things to happen to take stock, realize, appreciate and even celebrate?  Isnt there a way we can have all this goodness emerge – and more importantly report on goodness  -without the terror or the lost lives or the lost limbs to precede it.

I had this strong sense that came over me this morning that as a country and as a planet, maybe we are coming close to the time when we actually don’t need it anymore.  That we might actually be ready to ascend to a level where love can prevail purely on its own accord.

Or maybe I’m just an idealist.  Maybe I listen to too many John Lennon songs.  And read too many spiritual books.  Call me crazy.

Yes, I had this sense – or maybe it was just a mere wish – a yearning, even a pleading to the powers that orchestrate the gyrations of this planet that we are perhaps – please God –close to an end of the era where we need anymore examples of how well we respond to hate and fear to show us how well love.  We do it well. We know we do it well.  We don’t need the tests anymore.

It made me think of Ghandi’s quote above.  I wondered could we becoming close to a time where the tyrants and murderers fall for good?  A true “New Earth”.

I know we know how to love.  And how to love well.  I read and hear stories about it all the time. Stories about entrepeneurs creating businesses,  people volunteering,  non-profits being established, about writers, inventors, artists, innovators, donors doing good, and of ordinary people sacrificing their own lives to help one another.  So why aren’t we promoting these stories on the evening news with the same fervor and intensity as we do every major tragedy?

I’m no different than anyone else.  I find myself glued to the tv and the story as it unfolds live before my eyes.  Even though I cant stand the chaos that created it.  I cry at the heartbreak of every loss of life, I feel the shock of those who were there, and I marvel at  the beauty of people coming together in common purpose for a time and how love always triumphs.   I feel every part of the human story and connectedness to it all. And that’s why I watch, why we all watch I suppose

Still I’m troubled.  I think if we create an intention to sell more good news then perhaps we can create more good news. I’d kind of like to see us showcase more of how the light of humanity glows naturally even in the absence of horror to provoke it, especially in its absence.  I even think there is a lot more of this good stuff going on minute to minute, day to day than the other.  Maybe we can figure out a way for the word “good” to have the same visceral charge that the word “evil” does.

If I were Queen for a day I would love to issue a challenge for the news media and for all of us spectators.  How about for the next day or two all  “breaking news” be about some extraordinary uplifting event that is covered with the same ubiquity as when terror strikes one of our towns.  Special reports and 24/7 coverage on every major channel.  Maybe some VIPS, politicians or even the President himself could fly to the scene of goodness and have his speech broadcast on every news station. We could hear about how people are acting courageously and generously without also having to list the names of victims and speak of the sorrow that accompanies the glory.

In fact I’d love to see a whole news channel dedicated to the good that is going on in the world.  That doesn’t mean some bad stuff might still happen or need to be reported on but just that maybe on balance we are tuned in to something that paints a different overarching picture overall.

So  I thought I should do some research to see in fact how much uplifting,  inspiring good news stories I could identify.  And I was so glad I did.  Because I found lots of sites already dedicated to the reporting of good news.  I felt like my “challenge” was already being responded to – if not yet quite on network news then at least on the internet.

I was pleased to discover a host of “good news” websites – I list some of them here…  dailygood.org; amazingnews.org; sunnyskyz.org; goodnewsnetwork.org to name a few. I urge you to check them out.  Support my Queen for a Day challenge and see if we can share and support the telling of all the good news that happens in this world every moment of every day.

And if there is anyone out there in a position to start a network or perhaps just  a “reality” tv show I challenge you too!  A New Kind of News for a New Kind of Earth…

Maybe we can even call it  — “Graceful Under Fire”…. (copyright – all rights reserved 🙂

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Noticing about Noticing

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Today I want to write about “Noticing”.  Because I have been noticing          about noticing. That noticing what we think, do and say and how and why we think, do and say the things we do seems to be a pretty important step on the  spiritual path. Some will call this “awareness”.  But I think what happens first as you start to become conscious is that you start to “notice”.   Suddenly there is an awareness  and then a questioning of the same or similar reactions to the same or similar circumstances.  In my experience, it’s like there is one of me watching while the other of me is reacting.  The one watching is saying something like – “oh- isn’t that interesting… why would I do/say/think THAT?”.  She is noticing where she never noticed before.  And questioning.  She is watching but still not able to stop the one doing from having the reaction.

Not yet anyway.

One of the things I have been “noticing” these last few weeks is how irritated I have been getting about things that really have nothing to do with me.  Of course at the time I think it has everything to do with me.  But somewhere along the line my higher self knows better.

There are my usual sources of annoyance which some of you may also be familiar with  -traffic, long lines, waiting interminably (ten or fifteen minutes)  for food at a restaurant  or the epitome of annoyance creation for me – being forced to dial, then deal with, any kind of customer service organization, especially ones where I cannot understand the person on the other end of the phone.

But over these last weeks I’d been “noticing” myself reacting to some events that are beyond the usual triggers.

For example. – I always get to my yoga class super early.  I have a favorite spot and like to procure it and claim it as if I own it.  In the corner, where I can have MY space, my privacy.  These things are very important to me.  Especially when I have to reach my arms out wide in a sun salutation or in a “T” while doing a twist on the floor and I’d rather not collide with the outstreteched arms of the person next to me.   But in general I just like my personal space.  Its just a pet peeve of mine.  I realize I may be more sensitive than most when it comes to this need and that is precisely why I get there early so I can get this space.  MY space.

As the room starts to fill up I can feel myself slowly become more and more anxious.  Now I’m in yoga class mind you.  Part of the experience is supposed to be about finding peace and love and acceptance most of all.  To reduce not enhance anxiety.  So not only am I  feeling a growing, gnawing anxiety about the increasingly crowded room,  I’m also starting to feel a good measure of guilt about it as well as at my egoic and selfish need for my space in what’s supposed to an environment of “oneness”.

A few minutes before class starts is when my level of irritation starts to really take hold.  I can feel the unease rising in my body.  I’m quietly but fervently trying to guard the precious little space left beside me.  Trying not to make it too obvious since that would be very un-yogi like, I use every ounce of silent, energetic power I have to place dominion over my precious space.  I pray, I beg, I whine under my breath.  I direct my thoughts to the space claiming it to be mine.  Reserving it with my energy..  Hoping those coming in the room will pick up on the vibration that reads  “Reserved for Shari.”

The door closes and we are about ready to start meditation.  By this time I have already used up a considerable amount of energy and invested some time in trying to protect my space.  It’s the prescribed starting time for class and I can see outside the studio window that there are still MORE people coming in!!!  My irritation level climbs to beyond what I can humanly control,  like a fever that shoots up uncontrollably leaving you shaken and delirious.    Don’t they know class is already started?  I know all are welcome at yoga but this is the West – what about our Western culture’s sacred respect for being on time?   Or what about not distracting meditation—so if this is an Eastern spiritual practice, isnt there something in the Eastern culture’s notion about respect about that??

But it seems that neither version of respect matters right now. People are still trickling in and we’re still supposed to close our eyes and breathe and go inward while they do.  I really want to go inward.  Ive been looking forward to this all day.  But I can’t while there is still all this outward disturbance.  Another pet peeve.  Am I the only one feeling this??

This is the point where I do start to take it personally.  It goes something like this inside of me:

 I’ve succeeded!.  I’ve managed to keep a few inches of precious space clear next to me.  And class officially started! And so did meditation!   I breathe a quiet sigh of relief.  Only one tiny little space left – aha – next to me!  Phew!!!!   The begging and the whining worked.   I can relax.  I can meditate.  Aaaaah….

Or so I thought.  So when the next person walks in late – and after meditation has already started no less – and I know the only little space left is the one next to me in the far corner of the room where I have been silently praying;  while the teacher says “welcome” in that warm and inviting way that all yoga teachers say “welcome” (even to people that are late to class) I am taken over by my lowest of  lower self.  The fever is at 106.  I’m no longer in control.  I open one of my closed meditative eyes, peek through it, see that no one else seems to be disturbed,  and nevertheless, find myself giving  that person who came in late and is threatening to take my space a very self-righteous evil eye!  Yes. I admit it. I do.  I tried the quiet begging. It didn’t work.  So what choice do I have??   I’m thinking the glare of my evil eye will help them see the light.  At the same time, I’m also “noticing” how personally I’m taking this.   As if that person has been plotting all day to orchestrate their arrival in class just to annoy me.  Because, you know – they really have nothing better to do.

And anyway my evil eye isn’t that evil or effective anyway.  “Plop” goes the mat right next to me.  Five minutes late and all.  Despite my best and all out efforts.  The Universe is obviously out to get me.

Now if this ain’t “ego”, I don’t know what is.

I guess we all have one.  Even me.  They remind us they are here all the time.

It doesn’t end there however.

In my parking garage later that day there is a car parked across from my spot that is clearly marked “NO PARKING ANY TIME”.  It’s the umpteenth time they are parked there.  Their license plate says “MK HOME” – as if to rub it in.  I’m appalled at this car owner’s lack of rule following.  Such injustice!  Another example.  I would never do that.  So why should/can they?   Obviously personal.  Yet again.  It’s starting to feel like a conspiracy.

And then to top it off,  there is a daily, almost hourly, incessant stomping /running/ bowling(?)/ I’m not sure what it is noise coming from the three year old  that lives above me.  Like clockwork – 8 a.m, noon, 6 p.m..  BANG BANG BANG.   Now you may be thinking my other two illustrations are just examples of me overreacting or over –personalizing. Even I eventually question myself.   But come on– this one is definitely directed toward me.  BANG BANG right above my head.  They know I live here.  What  nerve!   That three year old was clearly , deliberately placed there just to annoy me!  What else could it be?    This is SO about me!

By now, I’m exhausted.  I got nothing left.  The conspiracy against me is winning.

Just when I think I cant take anymore I am rescued.  Thank heaven for Eckhart Tolle whose New Earth podcast I’ve been listening to – again.  And I was reminded, it’s not personal.  Not any of it. It just “is”. My ego thinks it’s personal because it likes to feel that special, because egos are well– personal.    I could make a different choice. Surrender.  Surrender is not giving in or giving up.  Its just acceptance. It actually gives me power; it doesn’t take it from it me.  And in so doing I can see that there is no conspiracy at all and that nothing or no one is actually doing anything to me.  Its all my choice in how to view it, or resist it or not.

I have a moment of consciousness.  I take a very small, incremental step toward spiritual awakening by realizing everyone else is not thinking about or out to get  me.  None of this is proof of that.  In fact, most likely, everyone else’s own egos are too worried about themselves and all the traffic and long lines etc out to get them to be that concerned about me.  All our egos bumping into each other.

Until we take a step back for one small, sweet moment and just – notice….

Love Among the Ruckus – Jewish Mother style

mzl.ngtptsrk.320x480-75I recently visited my parents in Boynton Beach Florida.  One of the reasons I was excited to go there is I knew without a doubt it would give me some good material for this blog.  For those of you with New York Jewish parents -or any East Coast Jewish parents – living in Florida, you know what I mean.

The Jewish mother/grandmother archetype, is becoming more and more of a rarity and in danger of extinction I think. There are those of us in mine and succeeding generations that are Jewish by birth (and may even practice – I don’t) –and who are also mothers as well.  But I’m not so sure those two words – “Jewish” and “mother” go together nowadays ” in the same way they have in the past to create what many know to be, and what countless movies and tv shows and comedians depict as the stereotypical protoype of the  classic  “Jewish mother – or that they ever could.  Different times create different archetypes, I think.  My grandmother and great aunts were classic, living in tenements in New York and hanging out windows to watch over their collective brood, ministering to their husbands, clear in their roles as cook and caretaker and worriers and hand wringers extraordinaire. Worry was considered holy in our family and something to be taught and learn.  It was/is a sign of love.  And no one could do it better than my grandmother could.

Family get-togethers were a loud and running commentary on politics, other people, other people’s kids,  food and mostly what was wrong with all of them. The word should could not be overused.    In fact it seemed it was our birthright to determine what was right for everyone else and what they should do, how they should act and more so what they shouldn’t be doing and how we knew better and never would do the thing that we determined they shouldn’t be.   We were not taught that interrupting was rude.  In fact not much was considered  “rude” – except when other people did it of course.  Talking over one another was the norm, almost somewhat expected.  Like a sign of affection and comfort that we didn’t need to put on airs. Loudness was necessary and did not seem to bother anyone. Except me sometimes and my brother maybe.   I was an extremely shy kid and me and my brother were often the only children, so we generally said nothing. There wasn’t’ much opening anyway for someone smaller and with a softer voice who hadn’t acquired such opinions or the ability to speak them louder than people much bigger and louder than they were.

Beyond the “kvetching”,  I did learn a lot however about other things –most notably about politics – it being a prominent topic of discussion. Even when I thought I wasn’t really listening or fully able to comprehend,  somehow, beliefs about concepts of social and governmental responsibility and lingering New Deal ideals about the role of government in caring for the old and the infirmed and the otherwise disadvantaged were getting programmed in. Please understand, no one was wanting any free rides or to rely on anyone else.   These were hard working, extremely proud working class people taking responsibility for themselves and their families.  Some had really struggled through the Depression and survived.  But their strident sense of personal responsibility was balanced with a recognition that we were all part of a larger community and it seems to me now  -if my adult recognition of childhood interpretations serve me correctly — that there was a fervent, unquestionable belief that it really was part of government ‘s job to help people – that they were almost like a partner, a part of our larger family, our ultimate patriarch and caretaker.

But here’s the bottom line. In those rooms, in those apartments, in those tenement buildings where we gathered to “kvetch” and share and talk politics and gossip and where the smells of homemade soup and brisket (overdone) and chocolate cake and mothballs and that distinct grandma’s apartment smell enveloped us in our gathering,  there was love amongst the ruckus. In fact the ruckus was love. There was lots of it.  The Jewish version.  And the Jewish mothers were the guardians of it all, the non-designated stewards shepherding their Jewish mother version of love.   The only way they knew how, having been taught by their own mothers and grandmothers who came over on crowded boats for promises of a better and freer life.   I was the youngest of the three generations deep of women in those tiny kitchens where we pretended to  wash and dry dishes but really were passing stories and love through the generations.

My  own Jewish mother and her counterparts were evolved from the steroetype of my grandma’s generation.  They were  marginally influenced by the emerging women’s movement.  Some of them did work mostly as secretaries (as my mother did in a junior high) or in part-time jobs.  They learned to drive.  A few of them even got divorced. They went to “beauty parlors” on Saturday and many expressed their personality and sophistication through their fashion sense.  But, to me at least they still had that distinctly Jewish mother stamp.  Jewish women are not wimps by any mean. They have no problem telling you what they think or feel.  No repressed feelings here.  Inability to express ourselves is not our issue even if its done in that less than overt – shall I say – um- even passive aggressive way that lets one know how we feel by somehow making it their fault! I think thats what they call “guilt”?   How do Jewish mothers do that???  I recently saw a Piers Morgan interview with Barbara Streisand about her recent movie “Guilt Trip”.  He remarks to Ms. Streisand about her role as Jewish mother to a grown son and comments on a scene where she is asking him a bunch of questions.  Piers Morgan notes how she asks questions that are not really questions to her son but rather fairly biting comments that never require or get an answer from her son.  “How do you do that?”  he says to her somewhat puzzled and confounded –  “And by the time you are done he is obliterated!”   They both laugh.  I laughed too knowing exactly what he meant and what she was doing.  “I don’t know” replies Ms. Streisand.  “It’s just in my DNA”.

So the original intention for this blog was going to be a story from my trip to Florida about my parent’s broken printer and the uncanny way it came to be fixed and what I learned.  I knew I would have “stories” from my Florida visit with parents for this blog. It was a foregone conclusion.  I was looking for something funny with a lesson of course.  But instead a bigger “story” came out.  The one about my culture, the one I grew up with, the one I knew – and I guess – a little bit about my own “DNA”.  Who knew??  Even though I’m not quite the same as my grandmother, or my mother and have the imprint of a different generation. Even though I am not hanging out windows to check up on my children, I check on them and  “follow” them  by “friending” them and “texting” them – my windows to their world. And even though my children are only partly Jewish (by birth, not religion)  and I don’t practice Judasim as a religion or spiritual practice– I  guess I am after all still a “Jewish mother” and I suppose then that maybe they still do exist to some extent.  I care, I worry, I “kvetch”, I love sometimes with some overprotection, and okay- sometime I produce a small amount of guilt, but just a small amount….  And I say “Oy” a lot.  It expresses what no other word can for so many situations.  I’m a Jewish mother, always will be.  From a long line of them before me.  Its just in my DNA.

Loving “Being” Love

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 “If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels, but do not       have love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.”          

                                                           Corinthians 

I have heard more than one person say lately that it’s  the “who” that you are “being” , not the “what” that you are “doing” that creates the results you get. This is true whether its at work, in life or  -I think – mostly in love.

In the world of HR and OD that I have been in and still frequent, I often hear references to the distinctions between “being” versus “doing” and how they relate to the difference in the kinds of results each produces or the kinds of results that are produced  one without the other.  The teachers and believers of authentic leadership development – of which I am one- understand that who we are being is what we ultimately create. It stands to reason then, that the higher level of consciousness we choose to operate from, then the higher level of outcome we create.

Yet, this seemingly basic understanding still eludes so many of us.  We so easily slip into using anger, or fear, or controlling, or competitiveness or whatever the corporate or social culture has programmed us to use to get what we seek.  And then we wonder why at this level of “being” we wind up creating more of the same.  Not getting what we say we want. Or not as powerful as it could have been. Sometimes, maybe it looks like we did, but upon closer inspection there is usually a cost.  And not a pretty one.  Bruised egos. Burn out. Lack of purpose. Hurt feelings. Drudgery.  Betrayal. Ethical transgressions.  Or, if not now, somewhere down the road the price gets paid.  Numbers and bottom lines, and material manifestations are not the only indicators of our success nor the most important ones.  Sometimes they even mask a deeper truth. Or cause us to be misguided in the quest to achieve them.

I started to think about this concept and how it related to my own life apart from work.  In February, I made a choice to marry a man that lives 3000 miles away.  For a number of reasons neither of us were able to move across the country at this time in our life.  But we made the decision to marry anyway.  Many people have asked me why we would do that?  I don’t know that I have always had a good answer.  But the true answer is we got married for love.  And we put our faith in the knowing that our love would show us the way. Plain and simple.

Soon after we married, we decided as man and wife we “should” “figure out” how to live together and that it needed to happen soon.  Mostly me since I was the one telling myself that I HAD to make decisions about employment and mortgage expenses and health challenges and HAD to have a PLAN lest my life crumble before my eyes.  He was already retired and still had children living at home so there was less for him to “settle”.  Or so I told myself perhaps not wanting to admit to some neuroses and need to control on my part.  (Who me?)

In the ensuing months we struggled, fought, withdrew, pursued, pushed, blamed and created a tsunami strength’s level of frustration over trying to “figure out” how to be together.  At least I did. Suddenly we looked up and we saw that tsunami’s commanding wave of energy heading right our way determined to decimate the energy of love and faith that had brought us together. However, the build up of this energy, bent on destroying us and destroying Love itself, was not created by some supernatural force of an earthquake out at sea, but by one we ourselves created in our own backyard.

Having been reminded about the notion that who we are “being” is what creates the results of our life, I started to look at who I was “being” in my relationship with this man that I love to create the very opposite of what I set out to.  I realized I had been so attached to  “outcomes” and controlling them through any means possible, that I forgot about how to “be”.  Be what?  Why, be “Love” of course.  Maybe I just never learned how.  I started to feel myself shift in the understanding that detaching from the “outcome” is really the only way to any outcome, if there ever really are any “outcomes” at all since I’m beginning to think more and more that all there is, is constant evolution.

In the wake and retreat of the tsunami a new reality appeared.  I don’t have to have all the answers or maybe any answers at all. ( I don’t? ) And it doesn’t have to “look” a certain way one way or the other. ( It doesn’t? .)   Nothing has to be “figured out”.  There are no “shoulds”.  The only template I need to follow is what my heart, my soul, my intuition and the Universe tells me.  It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.  No one. After receiving their guidance is the best time to then use this beautiful machine that is my mind to carry out their wishes. In so doing, I use it instead of it using me.

And if in this process I choose to “be” Love instead of anger, fear,  jealousy and blame then guess what –  that is exactly what I can expect to create!

It really is THAT simple.

For a long time I think I measured how much love there was in my life by how much of it I was getting. And often in my quest to “get it”, sometimes somewhat desperately, my way of “being” has been arguably not so pleasant to others and/or self-deprecating to myself.  I’m seeing more and more that love is not about what we “get” – at all.  It is only about what we give and how we give of ourselves.  And, in doing so, I’m pretty sure that we can’t help but receive Love too.  Its impossible not to.

I don’t know why it takes 54 years to learn this.  It’s a truth that we are born knowing then unlearn somehow.  But, I think I AM learning.  Learning how to “be”.  Mostly, learning how to “be” when loving another human being, especially one that is a partner in life and love, but also with my children, my parents, my friends, the check out person at the grocery store.  And yes, even at work. Maybe mostly at work.  Coming from LOVE does not undermine the bottom line.  It enhances it.

I’m not perfect at this “being love” thing yet by any means – I’m sure my husband, children, friend and  parents would vouch for that.  But I am awake.  And learning about  and loving  “Being Love”

Graceful Under Fire

candlelightI named this blog “Graceful Under Fire” about two weeks ago.  Little did I know that if ever there were a time to be that it would be now.

I’ll make this one short.  And serious. Here’s what I think at 3:37 a.m the night after our children were massacred.  The night after this happened something like 15 times this year.  The night after “its one too many” (please God), and  the night after this time it really, really is  “WAY too young and innocent”, too much for us to bear anymore.

I think we need to be careful.  We need to be outraged. But we need to be careful.  We can and should feel anger but we need to be careful.  We need to be shocked and also to grieve.  We definitely should be disgusted and sad.  What do we do with all this anger?  Punch a pillow, shake your fist at the sky, at God, or whatever.  Its important to allow our feelings first.  Then allow it to be transmuted to love.  And do I dare say, even for the guy who shot them.  Because if he had felt any kind of love or connection, there is absolutely no way in the world that he could have done what he did.  Love is the antedote and the cure.  Love is the way out of hopelessness and despair.  I listened as newspeople labeled him a “monster” and a “madman” and it made me wonder how many times he might have been called one or felt like one in his life, until he just reflected back what he felt inside.

It’s incomprehensible to us that one of our own species can do the unimaginable because as humans we know we never, ever could.  And so we can only make sense of it by calling him names that dehumanize him.  It just doesn’t seem like humans should have the capacity to do this.  Because we are human and that is not like us.   Yet we know we do.  History shows us this. The current times shows us this.  Then again, perhaps he was just plain “sick” or maybe even evil.

And so, in either case or whatever the case –  beyond turning our rage into love – for God’s sake,  let’s do something in this country about the guns and the mentality that goes with it.  So when there are people who have lost their way in this way they cant get their hands on one.  So our culture stops viewing violence as an ok way to solve problems,  So we can stop feeling like we have to be so defended all the time.   So we don’t lose one more child to the actions of a child already lost.  And so maybe, just maybe, we can actually keep a child from becoming lost.

12/12/12 – Waiting for the Download

12.12.12Its 12/12/12.  Today is the day.  Its finally here.  End of the beginning.  Beginning of the new.  Day of “Ascension”.   The gateway for the transformation of human consciousness from fear to love.  It seems like it should be a big day.  Like a holiday.  Like stores should be closed or at least having a sale… or it should be a day off of work,  and celebrations should be rampant. Like New Years or something.  I don’t get it.  Where is all the hoopla? Why don’t more people get this??

I wasn’t sure I got it either but realized a few days ago it was almost here.  Not one to like surprises,  I thought if something cataclysmic was about to go down I better get more informed.  That would give me time to prepare.

So I researched.  Thank God for the internet because it makes research so accessible.  I learned about the crystalline grid and the Mayan calendar and Ascension and the symptoms that go along with Ascension.

That’s a story for another day but all I can tell you is every weird symptom that I have had in the last three years that no doctor can explain and that I have been chalking up to my Lyme disease (or something like that) was described in the list of Ascension symptoms.  To include – funny hearing, burning/vibrating/tingling body sensations,  shimmering vision, imbalance and fuzzy thinking.

Then there’s the non-physical strangeness like lights flickering when I walk by them and tvs turning on spontaneously in the middle of the night.  I learned that maybe this was just a bunch of energy shifting in my body as I “ascend” from one level of consciousness to another.  Akin to a radio tuning into a different frequency.

My system is literally “rebooting” – or so that’s what my “research” said.  I’m sure my doctors would not like this explanation and would think it hazardous to my health.  But it gave me an odd sense of peace.  Thinking of my body like an energy field in motion with some disruption but all for a good cause.  I can live with that a lot easier than Lyme disease (groan…ugh)

Anyway the other thing I learned from my research was that during this period between 12/12 (the gateway) and 12/21 (the threshold) to this new age,  a lot of important information was going to be transmitted.  Its not something you are going to get on the evening news however.  There isnt going to be any big Presidential announcement.  And I don’t even think God is going to appear with something like the Ten Commandments – but you never know—and that’s probably a little closer to the kind of means of transmission that’s going to occur.

No it will just come through somehow if one is ready, is listening and has clear enough channels to receive it.  I have no idea if I am one of these “beings”.  I do know that I have been having lots of symptoms that would suggest I’m headed in that direction however. But on the other hand,  I havent been so good at “raising my vibration” in other ways – although I try with some yoga here and some meditation there and eating some healthy high vibrational foods along with my wine and coconut ice cream.

But honestly, I just havent made it my focus.

Nevertheless, once I became aware of it,  I found myself really wanting to get this “download” from the cosmos or wherever its coming from.  I kind of thought it might have something really important to say and I didn’t want to miss out since 12/12/12 only comes around once every hundred years and I wont be here for the next one and Im pretty sure 2012 is a once in a lifetime, millenium kind of occurrence.

Mayan calendars dont begin and end but once – ever- I think???  I kinda wished I had been preparing sooner  for it but it just didn’t seem to have the same sense of urgency as it does today.  So I got my favorite leather bound journal out with pen and got ready to transcribe because I heard that when it comes our mind wont be able to contain it.  So here I am, “Waiting for the Download.”  I’m not quite sure how one does that but if there is a procedure and I’m supposed to receive it I’m sure I will know or be guided in some way right?

So that’s what I am doing today.  Waiting.

And in my doing so, I can tell you this.  I’m not sure if it comes from the “download” or not.  But here’s what I’m thinking.

We are all connected.

We are all magnificent beings.

We are all like colors of the rainbow – made of different colors and shades all creating its beauty, none it good or bad, right or wrong.

We all deserve to be loved.

Love is where its at and love is all you need.

And beyond that its all just an adventure that can be a lot of fun if you let it and look at it that way.

Maybe it didn’t need to be 12/12/12 to know that.  Or maybe the download is already uploaded and always has been.  Its just a matter of playing the program. Either way, while I’m “waiting” one thing I don’t have to wait for is this  — in a word just to be LOVE.

With that, I think download (or not) – complete.

A Time to Pause

My 24 year old daughter is a second year choir director and music educator at a small, rural middle and highschool in Southwest Virginia.   During the same time I was attending a workshop on neuroscience and coaching last week, talking about and personally experiencing transformation, three young students at her school also experienced their own version of it.

In two separate car accidents over three days, this life of theirs on the  Earth plane ended.

This was not the first time senseless, incomprehensible tragedy struck so close to my daughter’s heart.  On April 16 2007 as a freshman at Virginia Tech she was eerily close to the massacre that occurred there.  She was one floor above the room where two people were killed in the dorm;  she lost two dear friends she knew from her high school; and she (and her friends she lost) also attended the same school as the boy who was responsible for all of it.

Yesterday when I spoke with her, she said she felt she was right back there at April 16.  Her usual effervescent demeanor had diminished to something beyond sad;  She sounded numb.  Like she had just received a shot of anesthesia to her soul.   Perhaps having reached a sort of “tipping point “ in the compounding of young lives lost close to her and her ability to process all of it.  The emotions become so overwhelming that is becomes hard to know what to feel or how to feel it.

This time she is one of the “adults” in a position of stewardship over children’s broken and bewildered hearts while unsure how or even if she should make room to tend to her own.

I read once that from a spiritual viewpoint it is a fallacy to say that people’s lives are “cut short” when they die so young. That from this point of view we all are really only here a short time in relative terms anyway, that each of our souls have come to do its work in whatever time its here, and that our life is fully lived for this lifetime no matter how long we inhabit our physical form.  In this regard, “time” is really irrelevant.

Yet, even if we buy into this notion and understand our true nature as spiritual beings,  we are still having a human experience. In that experience it is so hard to comprehend the death of a young person that seems so random and to us as humans – so senseless.

I have wondered if the purpose of these souls who come to Earth and leave soon after is simply to remind us.  Without them, we would forget.  Or we would just not have the context, the alternative view,  to understand whats really important.  We would forget-  that all there is really-  is love; that we are all community and family and need each other;  that we are more alike than not; and that when there is loss we feel and we feel deeply.  And in doing so, we see in each other what is inside of us.  Without this “reminder” , the vortex of chores, and petty gossip, and worrying, and comparing and competing with one another would sweep us away into an illusion that this is what life is and all its about.  We would not have a reason to PAUSE…..  And it is in this space – this pause – that we sometimes, often, more often than not – create something from loss that has a countervailing gain that would not have been created otherwise.

So I do not think it is any coincidence that it is during Thanksgiving week that this tragic loss has occurred.  It is the quintessential timing to PAUSE.    Time to pause and let these souls that have passed on in this way serve to remind us about GRATITUDE.  I mean the kind of gratitude that we need to PAUSE to take notice of.  Gratitude for the sheer privilege of having the experience of being alive and of the gift of Life itself.  Of knowing what a sun looks like to rise and set and for my eyes to have the ability to reflect the beauty of the purples and blues and orange that paints the sky when it does.  Of being able to bear witness to the changing phases of the moon – each phase with a beauty and mystery all its own.  Of watching the cycle of a leaf turn, then die, then be reborn again.  Of knowing what the cool grass feels like under my feet.  Of knowing what the sky looks like in its clear blue purity and then when its being rearranged by puffy clouds and in other times when it mother nature feels more dark and stormy, I get to see that too.  Gratitude.  For my heart that beats and knows how to love and how to cry, for my brain that thinks and creates and for the “Programmer” that has programmed it to perform the miracle it does.  Gratitude for a human spirit that brings me to my knees in awe –  in the knowing of the resilience of that spirit, in its oneness,  and its ability to make meaning out of what in the moment seems senseless and beyond repair.

When we pause….  like this…..    sorrow can be transmuted joy, to the kind of joy that still honors and celebrates the preciousness of these three lives and the meaning they can give to ours and that allows us our sadness and pain to co-exist alongside our reverence.  In doing so, I think it helps to make it seem less senseless.  I thankful to these three souls for teaching me this, reminding me and mostly – for making me PAUSE….