Dear You

Dear You,

Now is the time to follow your heart's deepest calling. 

                            Sincerely,

                            Faith


If you protect yourself, you will never be free. Life is  messy. We sweat. We bleed. We cry. We scream. No more than we can hold back our sweat, can we hold back our tears. If a good day to you means that you got through it without getting hurt, you are on the run afraid to face your life, afraid of your own self.

It takes a tremendous amount of energy to protect oneself on a daily basis. We lock ourselves up within the confines of our own psyche.  That stuck energy turns into a breeding ground for a sickness that will ultimately suck the life out of us.  And to cure that sickness, we only need to sweat and bleed and cry and scream, so that we can breathe and let go.

Because we don't want to sweat or bleed or cry or scream, we run into the woods, put our head under the covers or put up one of those imaginary shields of protection, like resentment, arrogance, coldness and indifference.  When we realize that what it is we are protecting is merely an image, the concept we have of our self, it doesn't seem to be worth the energy it takes to protect it. A house of cards will never be more than a house of cards. We know eventually it will be blown away. Even the slightest disturbance can send it tumbling down. Our problems don't stem from the events that happen. Our problems stem from the inability to handle them. If our house of cards gets blown away, who is still left standing? You.

You are still there, and the you that is still there was not harmed. A feeling of loss would be experienced and that might be painful, but you already knew it was inevitable, right?  We are fighting a loosing battle to protect the illusion of ourselves and our perceptions we so dearly hold onto. The battle is over when we accept the world as the mess it is, when we accept ourselves as the mess we are, and embrace our sweating, bleeding, crying and screaming.

The only way we can create our own reality is by realizing what is real. From that place of wholeness, from that place of unprotected sweating, bleeding, crying, screaming openness we become raw enough, fearless enough, genuine enough to recognize it. We cannot control the energies, the thoughts and the feelings that come through us, but we can write our own story. We write our story of the experiences of our life from the perceptions we have of them. If we cannot shift our focus past the disturbances of energies continually bombarding us, then we will always feel disturbed, always be afraid and never be free. If we can turn our attention to what does work in our lives, be grateful for the joys we do experience and drink in all the beauty that surrounds us, we can live a life beyond our wildest imaginings. The price for freedom is a high one.  We must be willing to disappear by letting go of the stories that made us up and that hold us down. Our stories are our cages. Open the door and fly free.

.

Angels Amoung Us

It was interesting watching myself stereotype a family tonight and have them prove me wrong about my judgements. Last thing I want to do at the end of a long day is go to the grocery store, but Izzy was out of dog food. I had no choice. All I wanted to do was to get my few items and get out. It was almost 7pm and I could tell from the parking lot the store was packed. As usual there were only a few lanes open, and I picked the slow lane.

In front of me was a mother with her 3 children. The older daughter looked to be around 12 and the younger one around 9. The son was probably about 6. From the way they were dressed I would guess they were Mennonites or from some Christian conservative group. The Mom wore no makeup. Her and the girls wore ankle length skirts and had their hair pulled back. I noticed how I judged them when I saw them. Wondering what is the purpose for dressing so matronly and imagining they were probably home schooled, over protected and not given any freedom to be themselves.

I was exhausted from the day, and I am sure I looked it. I also probably looked impatient. The older girly turned to me, and I think tuned into to me. She gave me the sweetest smile and said, "It is really busy in here tonight isn't it? It has been such a long day. I can't wait to get home and home and eat my dinner." Exactly all of my thoughts, but delivered in such a sweet way. All three children were helping their mother with taking things from the cart and putting the bagged items back in it. The daughter apparently got that sweet smile and soothing voice from her mother, because her mother was just as charming. She asked me how I cooked something I had in my cart and ask if I fared the recent ice storm okay. The boy proudly showed me his new motorcycle toy, and with great excitement, giggling all the while, the younger of the two sisters explained to me how the toy worked and what her brother was going to do with it. They made me laugh with their excitement over it.

With such harmony I watched this family complete their task together. With such sweetness they dealt with the clerk. With such sincere interest they connected with me. Did that little girl know I had a long day and was feeling impatient? Did that mother know I needed to see a warm smile and hear a friendly voice? I was touched by a family of little of angels, I felt. Ashamed of myself for my judgements and impatience, but grateful to be shown something beautiful anyway. I don't know if they were Mennonites, Amish, Conservative Christians or Angels, but I was kissed by their sweetness and I imagine that I won't be so quick to judge next time. If being home schooled and looking matronly has such a positive effect, I think I need to buy some ankle length skirts and pull my hair back.

Breathing & Being

Have you ever noticed how the world slows down when you close your eyes and deepen

your breath? Lately, I have been intentionally stopping and slowing down, as I found there was pace running my life that was in-congruent with my nature. Our appointments, to-do lists and obligations seem to suck all the juice out of our lives and leave us over stimulated, over spent and over the edge of our sanity. If you think about it, the  need for sedatives and distractions so that we can relax is kind of insane. We often end up sleeping too much or too little, eating too much or too little.  We loose our balance.

The world would not come to an end if you disengaged for a day. Life would still continue if you cancelled your appointments, threw out your lists and dropped your obligations. Seriously, it would. It is our self-absorption and inflated self-importance that keeps us running on this hamster wheel. We are not doing it for anybody else. We are doing it for ourselves.

We run to keep up, because we fear that we will loose something if we can't. What is the worst possible thing that could happen if it were lost? Imagine that. Imagine the worst possible thing that could happen, and allow yourself to feel the suffering of that loss. Then remember you only imagined it, and realize nothing changed. For the most part, fear exists in our imagination. What is real never changes. As difficult as change can be, nothing important ever changes.

Loosing what we are attached to is painful, but we can't control what happens in life. We can, however, if we slow down, catch the moment. In the moment, is that peace we crave. In the moment is that awareness that never changes. It only knows, "I am conscious. I am breathing." What else is there that we ever truly know for sure?

In efforts to slow down so that I can catch the precious moments of my existence, I have been practicing some Restorative Yoga. In this practice you use props to support yourself so that the body feels no struggle with itself in a posture. I hold each pose for at least 5 minutes and some even 10. I just lay there supported, breathing, being. It's the best part of my day.

The biggest struggle with Yoga is the inability to be still. The biggest struggle with life is also the inability to be still. It is in stillness that we connect to the depth of our being, the core of our existence, the unchanging, eternal source of juice that breathes the Universe.

Invisible Fences

We set our own limits. A cage doesn't have to look like a cage to be one. Have you ever seen a dog approach an electric fence? I used to live down the street from a huge yellow dog that would sit in it's garage. When he would see you coming near his house, he would charge at you in a barking frenzy, then come to a dead stop right at the curb. Even though I knew there was an electric fence surrounding that house, it would make my heart race every time. What if it malfunctioned just one time?

What I learned from watching my own dog when she encountered an electric fence around my parent's chicken coup, was that the memory of that shock had left an imprint she has not forgotten... And it only happened one time. She's a quick learner. We went to visit my brother's house, who has a bird in a big metal cage. Izzy was so curious about that bird but didn't dare get too close. It was a bird with metal around it. That's all she needed to know. Last time there were birds with metal around them, something bad happened. She's kind of weary of birds all together now. Often, once a dog encounters an electric fence, it doesn't even have be turned on anymore for it to be effective, as the invisible fence line is permanently drawn in their memory bank.

The human psyche works in a similar way. We set boundaries that become the walls of our cage because somewhere stored in our memory bank are feelings of hurt and pain. When we approach these boundaries we feel threatened and scared, so we retreat back to the comfort zone of our cage. No one, including our self, can see the invisible fence that is keeping us bound. Surrounded by the walls of our mental cage, we can only know our limited self with all it's fears and confusions and can never truly know the unlimited, unbridled, eternal freedom beyond it.

We can never be free unless we transcend the boundaries of our mental cage. Every time we hit the walls of our cage and retreat, it strengthens them. Every time, we hit the walls of our cage, and even just stick our pinky finger out, it weakens them. Living beyond the walls of our cage, will keep us way outside our comfort zone, which strengthens us. Our comfort zone is no more than a padded cell. Don't just push the edge, go over it and be done with it once and for all. Imagine breaking the barriers that protect you, and you will be living a life without self-consciousness and fear. And that my friends, is freedom.

I Am Enough

"I, Uma, am enough" was all it said on the note that fell out of a book I picked up this morning. Back in the day when I was first exploring consciousness, tearing down the walls and discovering who I was, I went through a series of Rebirthing sessions with a lovely Rebirther, whose name I can't even remember now. However, I have never forgotten her. One of the things she would help me do after each session was to create an affirmation for something I was struggling with. She would have me write it on a postcard and mail it to myself. In a few days the affirmation would arrive in my mailbox.

There was just something so empowering about receiving a note through the mail in my own handwriting, affirming something positive about myself. I think I kept most of them. I would stick them in my favorite books. My favorite books are like old friends to me. I never let them go. I pick them up and read a passage every so often even if I already read the book 100 times. Sometimes one of these old postcards falls out of a book. I can't tell you how much it thrills me when I find one of these sparkling gems of wisdom, because it's always something I need to hear right then. I don't take it lightly, as I know it is God speaking to me in that very moment.

I think I might pick up this practice again, so in another 25 years I will find notes tucked away in my favorite books to remind me I am enough.

Seven Most Valuable Things I have Learned

Izzy took us for our evening walk. Izzy is my dog. Most people walk their dog. My dog walks me. We started a little later than usual tonight, so the light disappeared before we got to the dirt roads. I live in a unique community that caters to equestrians. You can keep your horse in your back yard and ride right down your street. The beautiful Georgia red clay roads are more horse friendly than asphalt and besides just being more pleasant to walk on, they create a country like feeling in the middle of downtown. Adding more to their ambiance, the street lights are much farther and fewer between on the dirt roads. Neither Shantji or I enjoy the glare from the lights in the neighborhood. Moonlight is so much softer on the eyes. 

As we walked into the darkness of the night, just pass the empty polo field, we were assaulted with the blinding lights of a pickup truck. It was hard to tell if it was stopped or just moving very, very slow.  When we got a little closer I saw a big yellow Labrador jump in the back. The truck picked up a little speed and moved passed. us, then slowed way down again. The dog jumped back out and just started walking along side the truck as it crawled down the road. I asked Shantji, "Did you see that? He's walking his dog the lazy way. When he saw us with Izzy, he told his dog to get back in the truck and after he passed us, he let him get back out." Shantji couldn't believe that a dog would be so smart that you could get it to follow commands like that.

I told him, "Izzy is smart like that. If I would be more patient, spend more time and be consistent with training her, Izzy is certainly capable. Remember how she was when I first got her? She wouldn't come when you called her. Now she knows her name. She comes, sits and stays (briefly, anyway). I have only had her less than two months. Imagine what she will be like in two years."  Something about the softness of the clay beneath our feet, the smell of Night Jasmine, the moonshine through the trees, the strange truck, the cool dog and Izzy's insistent pace brought a liveliness to our walk and our chirping. 
 
Shantji asked, "How long have we known each other? "Going on 7 years", I told him."  After taking a few moments to absorb that, he continued, "Imagine that you are my Izzy. If you have learned anything from me over these years, tell me one for each year I've known you."

                                      Seven Most Valuable Things I've Learned

1. The dramas in life are not as important as we make them out to be. They come, and they go. We entertain them for as long as we have interest in them or as long as they serve some purpose. When they pass they become just another story we will either remember or forget. Some are good. Some are bad, but nothing lasts forever.
2. We end up doing whatever it is we are going to end up doing, and it's all okay. Life spontaneously unfolds in this Cosmic Play. We are merely an actor in it, not the director of it. Karma works itself out. It's not up to us. Everything happens on it's own in Cosmic Time through the Cosmic Will.
3. Things are not as they appear. We are all delusional from time to time. You have to dig deep to find the truth.
4. Don't get fixated on things. It is pointless. Whatever will be, will be. You can't put a square peg in a round hole no matter how much you want to.
5.  Resistance brings struggle and misery. Openness brings expansion and growth.
6. Face your fears, or they will eat you alive. Leaps of faith are mandatory for the spiritual seeker.
7. It's okay to make a fool of yourself, but don't fool yourself. Just be yourself. Above all, be truthful.

"Will you be open to write this on Facebook? I think other people might enjoy the story," Shantji suggested. "Yes, Shantji. I have been trained well", I teased. "Good girl," he teased back.

Covering Up the White

I have been experiencing a creative block. I sit to write and nothing comes. I sit to bead, and nothing forms. I sit to draw and the pen does not move. I am not unhappy, but neither am I overjoyed. Sometimes my best art comes when I am miserable, and sometimes when I am blissed out. I am neither right now. I have never been comfortable in the middle of the road. I tend to be on one side or the other. It seems I have landed in the middle. Perhaps it is mundane life of work and chores that has landed me in this lull of creativity, as my gypsy shoes have been put away for now.

Thank God a dear friend taught me to paint before art school destroyed my natural creativity. I can still hear him say, "Just cover up the white." We would sit side by side with two blank, white canvases with our paints in between us, put on some beautiful music and cover up the white until art happened. When I got to art school there was a "process," and there were rules. I never finished that degree. Couldn't see the point in it, as they did not seem to understand what art truly was. What I like about art is that rules are meant to be broken, not engrained. That's how you expand outside the box. I think that applies to most things in life.

I don't believe life is about tasks and processes and work and chores. I think life is about finding beauty. We've got it all mixed up. Life happens on it's own. It's not for us to control. It is for us to celebrate. Try and work it too hard and your "art" looses it's beauty, it's softness, it's light. When we get stuck, we just need to poke a hole somewhere, start something, do one thing different and before we know it, we are flowing in beauty again.

So this is the hole I poked. I think it worked. My fingers moved over the key board and sentences formed. Time to go cover up some white. Have a beautiful evening everyone. Namaste.