Juniper Berry Mud Pie

You know that beautiful moment when you remember life is as juicy as it ever was?  How is that just the sight of a twisted juniper tree can conjure a memory complete with full sensory amplification and transport me to a time long ago? I had a magical walk as the sun was sinking in the sky tonight.

I was feeling exhausted, with an achy back and a head full of pollen, when I returned home from work this evening. I plopped myself down in the chair where I had fully intended to spend the rest of my evening. The warm, spring breeze was softly blowing through the open window and the sunlight glistened creating rainbows as it reflected through the crystal hanging above.  My breath became slower and deeper as my mind shifted gears and my body settled into relaxation mode. This is what I had been waiting for all day, the time in space where there was nothing to be done, no one that wanted anything from me, nor me anything from them. Well, almost no one. 

There she sat on the couch across from me staring at me with those gentle amber eyes and ears all perky at attention. I swear sometimes my dog, Izzy, looks like she's smiling. She was happy I was home but even more so, she was anticipating her evening walk. Didn't she know how tired and sore I was, how hard I had been working, how much I just wanted to sit and do nothing? No, she didn't, but I knew she would forgive me and forget about it in a little while anyway. As I sat relaxing with a cup of tea, Izzy also relaxed. She sunk into the couch with a surrendering sigh. Her gaze went out into space, her perky ears dropped and her smile slipped away as she accepted her fate in the moment. Picking up on my vibration, she had shifted gears. As I watched my low energy vibration be reflected back to me from her, I thought to myself, "Sometimes I wish I could just be as happy and forgiving as Izzy. Instead of her lowering to my vibration, perhaps I should rise to hers."

Shantji's voice rang in my ears, "You can do anything for 10 minutes." I decided I could go on a short walk. I told Izzy we weren't going to the woods because then I would have to put on shoes, and flip flops were all the effort I could muster up. The only thing she understood was that we were going, and that's all that mattered to her. Bridling her excitement as best she could, Izzy picked up on my lethargy and walked slow and easy, not her usual style. As we wandered up the street, I began to notice the bright, happy colors of the spring flowers blossoming and the golden light shining through the trees, and I felt my load lightening. My eyes fell upon two juniper trees guarding the opening of a driveway. Funny I never noticed them before, as I walk that street almost daily. Their branches were twisted in the most unusual of ways, and their needles spread out in the shape of huge fans. I stopped and stared as memories flooded my awareness. 

Even the smell of the juniper berries I used to decorate my mud pies came to me, just as sharp as it ever was. In the empty lot next to my grandparents house, I had my own magical kingdom. Probably not more than a 1/4 acre but to me as a kid, it was a vast forest, of which I was the queen. It was the huge juniper tree that was my kitchen where my grandparents proclaimed the best mud pies in St. Augustine came from . My grandmother would save her old pie tins for me. I would pack them with sandy, Florida soil that I would ever so diligently stir to perfection with sulfur water. My specialty was Juniper Berry Mud Pie, and I would serve them up on a palm fawn. Siding them out from underneath the huge fan of juniper needles that opened the carry out window of my restaurant, I would yell out to my grandparents, "Come and get 'em while their fresh, Mimi and Dada, before the Wooliemajiggers eat them all." And they would always come, and ooh and awe over how delicious my pies were, never questioning me what a Wooliemajigger was.

The sweet memory of my grandparents and my magical kingdom made me want to visit the woods. Although my back was still hurting and I was wearing flip flops, somehow it didn't matter anymore. I was reminded how juicy the woods are. Somewhere in the doldrums of the day, I had forgotten. With a little more spring in my step, I headed to the woods. Approaching the woods, I notice a few Daffodils had sprung up looking like they were lining an entry way into the woods. I think this happened naturally. It's no one's property and it's not cared for in anyway. It's just the side of the road. I could smell them as soon as I could see them. I reached to pick one and took a big whiff of it's sweet smell. Then I remembered this was the exact same place where just 3 months ago I found Narcissus growing. They seemed to be growing in the same odd place.

The Narcissus has a most  profound memory for me. I don't think I had ever smelled them before I went to Iowa to live at a huge ashram many years ago. There were things about that place I liked, but mostly I never felt at home there. There weren't many comforts and the winter was brutal. Strangely enough, one of my fondest memories of the ashram was at Christmas time. Huge pots of  Narcissus were everywhere inside doorways, and decorating the sitting areas and meditation halls. Something about their intoxicating scent made me forget it was 40 below outside, and I was homesick. It's like they have some wonderful, magical power over me.

I headed into the woods with my happy dog and my intoxicating Daffodil in hand, along with my aching back and pollen filled head. No, it didn't go away, but it didn't matter anymore. It seems I can either focus on what needs to be fixed or coddled or changed or I can just skip off into the forest and get intoxicated by Nature, but I can't seem to do both at the same time. Life can be as juicy as we want it to be, but we must develop the art of tasting, smelling, seeing and touching the beauty around us. Preoccupation with anything other than what is right now, sucks the juice out of the moment.  All experiences, memories and thoughts are fleeting. Savor what brings you pleasure but don't try to hold onto it. Endure what you can't enjoy, but don't get sucked into it. Nothing lasts forever. Find a magical kingdom, filled with intoxicating flowers. Go there often and make juniper berry mud pies. Nothing is as important as you think it is. Viva la Juicy! 

The Blame Game

After a restless night of sleep because of some mellow-drama I allowed myself to get involved in, I was feeling hurt, misunderstood and sad. Thank God for the order of discipline that somehow seems to stick with me, for without it I might have wallowed around in self pity all day. I got up and began my morning ritual of lighting a candle for God, chanting, pranayama and meditation while tears came and went.  I was mostly upset with myself for going "down in the mud" with someone yesterday, as I have made a strong intention to just move on from people and situations that are not harmonious instead of staying and fighting, which tends to be my default behavior.  There are no winners in the blame game, regardless if you are blaming yourself or others.

Blaming is a way we try to protect our heart, that soft, vulnerable, tender part of our self.  Regardless of how tough we are, within everyone is that soft spot. All growth comes from that soft spot; however, it is so sensitive that often we feel uncomfortable, and sometimes even pain, when it is touched. So we try and hide it to protect it. When we stop blaming ourselves and others long enough, a space opens to  feel our heart, and we discover the wounds that lie underneath the protective shell that blaming builds. As long as we need to feel right or wrong, we continue to build layers of  that protective shell.

I quit drinking my beloved coffee 2 weeks ago, as I have been cleansing. This morning, feeling the need to feel better, I made myself a huge cup. Sitting in my chair hugging my huge cup of coffee, looking out the window at the beautiful sunshine and listening to the birds singing, I attempted to pull myself together by planning what I need to do today. As my mind began it's course of distraction into doing mode versus the feeling mode I was stuck in, Grace seemed to take over. I write all the time. I find my journals all over my house. Yesterday I found one stuck in an odd place, and I moved it over to a collection of books I keep by my meditation spot. I reached down in my stack of books to find something inspiring to read, and my hand landed on that journal. Out of it, fell a chart of the energetic system of the body. I had been wanting to find a good chart on Sen Lines for my upcoming Thai Massage workshop. This was exactly what I needed. I don't know why it was in this journal or even remember where it came from. This sparked my curiosity about the journal.

I opened the journal to the first page dated November 2012, and the first line in it was this quote:

"There are no justified resentments."

 I don't know where this quote is from or if the preceding writing is mine or something I read, but it was exactly what needed hear.

"If I am responsible, even in some small way, for the negativity I am experiencing then I can go to work to change it. If someone or something else is responsible, then I will have to wait for them to change it before I will feel better. If I can take some responsibility for my pain, then I can take some responsibility for removing it. Blaming leaves me powerless. Resentment will destroy me. Why would I allow something that belongs to someone else to be a source of resentment, a source of self-destruction? When I feel offended, I am practicing judgement. When judging someone else to be stupid, insensitive, rude, arrogant, inconsiderate or foolish, I am offended by their conduct. When I judge another person, I do not define them, I define myself as someone who needs to judge others."

Wherever this came from, I am feeling grateful for the wisdom. Thank you, God.

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.