The Pleiades

     I'd never been to California, yet during the past several months many people living out there have been urging me to come and visit.  Ah, 'twould be nice, but no denaro.  Then unexpectedly I was invited to the annual meeting and retreat of Service Space. My heart stopped for a moment.  This was huge!  Our founder, Nipun Mehta, would be there, a man I deeply admire.  Other folks I knew of but never met would also attend.  In my mind these were the game changers, and they wanted me to come.
     Two questions plagued me, why and how.  Why did I think I needed to go?  While my default response would have been no, my intuition shoved me into saying yes.  Then how in the world would I pay for the airfare? 
     The night after I accepted, I woke up in a panic.  What was I thinking of?  I can't go to California!  But in the next instant a voice cut through the noise.  FEAR NOT!  Instantly the panic ceased.  The next day I got a grant writing job which covered the cost of the ticket.  As long as I was out there, I thought I should see the friends who encouraged me to visit.  I emailed them about my trip, and effortlessly the stars moved to assist me.  Two of these friends offered me a bed, so no hotels.  Other friends offered to drive me everywhere I needed to go, so no car to rent.  John dropped me off and picked me up at the airport, so no parking costs.  Magic!
     Then came the why.  Why do I need to go now and why did I feel compelled to say yes?  I put the question aside when I arrived at Mesa del Sol.  I'd never been to a place like this!  We were in the mountains--high, dry, bright--with a faint smell of sage brush hanging in the air.  I was immediately absorbed into our loving group of 25 and made to feel quite comfortable.  Yet, something felt odd.  Someone asked me how I was doing.  I replied, "I'm not sure.  I'm not here.  Someone is here, but it's not me.  But she's having a great time!"  Whatever anxiety drives my ego and claims to be me was left 3,000 miles behind.  A purer version of me had arrived, one that was so completely open.
     I took advantage of the surroundings to enjoy a little solitude and the starry night, and out of the corner of my eye I spotted the Pleiades cluster.  Since my vision is not what it used to be I cannot look for this cluster straight on; it recedes into the blackness.  But when I don't look so hard, when I look past it, when I allow my peripheral vision to see it, it becomes clear.  Then I realized that I had to find my reason to why in the same way.  Going after it intellectually would reveal nothing.  I just had to let the answers reveal themselves to me.
   They did.  Sure, I was here to get better acquainted with the group.  But I found myself having astounding conversations which could not have happened under any other circumstances.  I met people with whom I developed an immediate and deep connection, and we continue our conversations now.  Because I needed a ride to my next destination, my traveling companions ended up being photographed for a book my host was publishing.  Another friend expressed her wonder that I had come at exactly that time because there was no one else with whom she could share a particular story. 
     The stars move in strange courses, don't they?  While it may be tempting to connect the dots and declare a constellation, I'm finding it's much more amazing to let them connect me to people and circumstances who are, just for the moment, obscured by the darkness.  But when all is revealed, Holy Mother of Pearl, it is magic!
    

Traveling on 287

     Super Soul Saturday was the retreat I attended last week in Princeton, NJ.  The east coast contingent of Service Space met for a day of mindfulness, meditation, and rich conversations.  It was so perfect!  We were all swimming in an ocean of love and support, so it was effortless and comforting to share stories with each other about life's challenges and rewards.  The theme was service in everyday life.  How do we show up for it?  Surrender to it?  What happens when our fears conflict with the desire to trust that what we are doing is right and necessary though conventional wisdom would tell us otherwise?  The day was full of such stories, and with it the laughter, hugs, knowing glances that assure us that we are in this together; and the road we travel is taking us home to our highest consciousness.
     I stayed later than I intended to so I could spend time with Bela who'd be moving across the country days later.  In hindsight, I'm so glad I did and would not have chosen differently.  It was a gorgeous time of sharing.  And this meant leaving at 8:15pm for a two and a half hour trip back home.  It would be a long, dark drive.  
     Things started to go quirky when I made two turns out of the neighborhood and immediately lost my bearings.  Darn!  I should have printed out the reverse directions rather than try to think backwards, a talent that is not in my repertoire.  But I made it to my first service station and got my bearings again from the attendant.  The streets were obviously unfamiliar, but the darkness made it difficult to read the signs, compounding my dilemma.  I made it another few miles, but no signs were evident.  I backtracked once again to a second service station to get confirmation of the route I needed to travel, and was gratified that my intuition was correct.  I then needed to travel up route 1 to the Garden State Parkway.  The trip was longer than it was coming down.  Did I miss a sign?  I began to panic about how the sign might read.  Would it tell me north or south?  Or would it just say To Trenton or Newark?  I have no idea where those places are in relationship to me!  I pulled into a third service station for yet more confirmation.  I was assured the sign would indicate north.  Whew!  On the road again, counting all the miles I thought I needed to be aware of when the sign might appear.  In a moment of doubt I saw a GSP sign tacked onto an exit, thinking that was the exit I needed to take.  Instead it was just a cheap way of posting that the turnoff was yet to come.  I stuffed my heart back down into my chest.  There!  Ahead of me was the easy turn off to the road I wanted.  Now, on to 287 and Westchester Avenue.  As a blessing along the way, I had the good fortune to pay a toll to an attendant with a warm, enveloping smile.  "Good evening, sister!  How are you?"  He got back as good as he gave.  I thanked God for sending me a highway angel.  I was heartened.
     These two roads converge for a small span before hooking up to the Tappan Zee Bridge and the Hutchinson River Parkway.  That would seamlessly meld into the Merritt Parkway which I knew like the back of my hand.  The Hutch meant I was safe and on my way home.  So I carefully counted the miles to where I'd see the signs for 287.  There it was right on time, and with it Westchester Ave.  I took the exit.  But wait.  Something was wrong.  The road I took coming down was a highway.  This was a secondary street with traffic lights.  The signs kept saying 287 with a forward arrow, but the road was not the one I remembered this morning.  Where was I?!?!  The road went on and on.  It was now 10pm, and it would be difficult to find places to drive into and ask for directions.  Light after light I traveled, doubting the signs that promised what I needed but conflicted with what I had known before.  I saw a bus pulled over to the side.  I wondered if I should ask the driver for directions.  But the light changed, and I chose to move forward...up over a rise...and FINALLY!  There before me was the exit for 287, and with it one that broadcast the coming of the Tappan Zee Bridge.  I knew just over the bridge I'd connect with the Hutch, and it would be a straight shot home.  
     The relief was overwhelming because the panic had been so persistent.  I relaxed my shoulders and loosened my white-knuckled fingers on the steering wheel.  Why did this have to happen right after such a magical day at the retreat?  I was annoyed that all those good vibes went right out the window.  A high had been replaced by fear.  But then I realized this trip home was a perfect metaphor for everything we had talked about that day:  traveling an unknown road, in the dark, hoping to get "home."  So frequently during my week, I strain to see signs that the way I am choosing to live is "right," that it will lead me to my destination, the fulfillment of my purpose.  Home.  I talk with others to compare notes and get confirmation.  "Did you have to pass through this challenge?  Good, so did I!"  My life is just like traveling on 287.  And the only way I got through it was on faith.  Sure, I have help along the way, but some stretches it's just me, doubt and faith battling it out, and the road.  Worst case scenario, I could have just driven around all night or stayed at a hotel.  But eventually I would have made it home.  I believe we all do.  It's just that some routes are harder than others.
     Anyway, one piece of advice.  Make sure your tolls are in quarters in case you get into the wrong toll lane.  It didn't happen to me, but it'll be one less thing for you to worry about on your path!

Pax tecum.

Party Like It's 1939

ER  hosting Easter egg hunt at White House

     It was my belief that back in the Great Depression there was a lot more generosity going around than at any time in my life.   The 70's were "me" focused and fashion challenged.  The 90's brought the scourge of greed and technology.  The millennium and 9/11--the world's axis shifted, and nothing has been the same since.  

     But whenever my parents, aunts, and uncles--second generation Americans--spoke about the Great Depression in which they grew up, they always mentioned people's generosity.  They didn't gloss over the hardships.  But stories of sharing and invention abounded.  So you can understand why the 1930s, as grueling as they were, still stand out in my mind as kinder days than those I've lived through.  Until now.

     While greed and indifference exist in abundance to be sure, I am heartened by what doesn't make the headlines because, as they say in the news biz, it doesn't bleed.  I am seeing a lot of caring folks in the world who make a difference for the better.  And I try daily to amplify that generosity every chance I get.  Life is beautiful when I do.  I sport a perpetual smile on my face, and other shoppers respond in kind.  I stop and talk to strangers for no good reason other than to connect with them for a moment, and they light up.  I do things I love, saying "yes!" to people ask to use my talents.  It proves to me that how we show up in the world actually affects our environment.  So how do we want to do that?  With cynicism?  Fear?  Suspicion?  Exhaustion?  

     If you read my last blog (you did read it, didn't you?), you know I am imperfect.  But I'm telling you, the extra effort I make to show up as my better angel is paying off.  My friend Audrey Lin echoes this experience.  At a recent conference, she was losing energy.  The trip, the sitting, the shlepping of stuff, all the talk talk talk.  So she and a friend decided to perform random acts of kindness.  As she enthusiastically describes it in a recent blog posting of her own: 

“As we went around giving out snacks, something shifted, in me and in the people we were interacting with. Suddenly, it was as if we were all becoming family. Giving out snacks, giving group hugs, learning each others' names-- there is something powerful about connecting over kindness rather than connecting over a project or ideology or agenda. When you connect with someone over an act of kindness, you make a heart-to-heart connection--a human connection-- that is a reflection and reminder of the human spirit. Of our interconnectedness!”

(Read more)

     So given all I've told you, you are hereby invited to a virtual party!  I invite you to commit random acts of kindness for the next few days.  You don't have to volunteer in a soup kitchen or write out a check.  Just pay attention!  Yes, that means getting off your devices--and you know I'm all for that.  What is going on around you that allows you to make a moment of positive impact?  Carry little toys in your pocket for restless children in a doctor's office.  In a check-out line turn around and compliment someone on her scarf.   Walk around your street and pick up garbage.  Need more ideas?  Go to HelpOthers.org, a great website!
     Then--THEN--come back here and tell us what you did, and what the experience did for you.  If you do this often enough, you'll notice how you are transforming.  You are becoming a change agent in the world.  But you have to come back and comment about it, or we won't have a party.  And you don't want to be a party pooper, do you?  In fact, forward this posting and bring others along with you.
     Just think.  If this were 1939, you might be sharing sugar rations or tomatoes from your victory garden.  Gee, isn't it swell?  Everything old is new again.  

Pax tecum.

 

     

It's not Brain Surgery

     This past week I have been beside myself with excitement.  I get to interview a world-renowned neurosurgeon and researcher, an inventor of medical devices, a major philanthropist, and a promoter of peace, compassion, and altruism.  And it's all the same person!  I needed to research our guest and the credits to his name are jaw dropping.  This man is changing the world one patient at a time, one research project at a time, one blog at a time, one conference at a time.  The only thing he doesn't have is his own cooking show.  Someone of this reputation could leave me feeling like a slacker.  But there's a back story with another character.

     Our guest grew up in grueling poverty within a family that really could not raise him well.  The odds were stacked against him, and the future looked as tough and grim as the past and present.  Then one day he wandered into a local store.  A conversation ensued with the shopkeeper.  God only knows what the woman saw in him, but she asked him to come back and see her daily for the next six weeks.  She then proceeded to teach him the practice of compassion, meditation, gratitude, and positive thinking.  It him put him on a trajectory more incredible than he ever could have imagined. 
     This man, as inspiring as he is, might never have become this man were it not for this anonymous-to-us woman who owned a store and took the time simply to talk with him.  She deserves to share the accolades of his work and successes.  What this woman's story, brief though it is, says to me, is that we never know when we are going to be a role model for someone else.  We never know when something we say drops like a seed in fertile ground and becomes an orange tree. 
     People listen and watch us more than we know.  And this is especially true of children.  So let us be mindful of our words, our actions, our character.  We don't have to be a brain surgeon to make a difference in another's life.  But by simply being the best of who we are, we could help to create one.

Pax tecum.

Faith over Fear Part 2

     When last I wrote about this, I was grasping the greater meaning of what I was doing with my life.  My family's concerns to the contrary, I am living this way on purpose.  I am living without predictable income and tasks to do.  But I do have a goal:  To learn if God/The Universe does interact with us if we get our ego out of the way enough to receive It.  But let me go a bit deeper here.
     This is not easy, believe me.  My days are pretty good.  Nighttime evokes terror every time I go to bed.  "What the hell am I doing?!?!  This is madness!  GET A JOB!"  But I don't want a job; I want my work.  There's a difference.  The distinction is something I feel very keenly, and an inner voice keeps driving me to trust more and more, against all logic.  This terror then drives me to prayer.  But I started to pay attention to the heart of all my prayers regardless of how I couched them.  I'm begging for certainty.  It's why I go to the weather reports.  I want certainty--now--that it will get above freezing next week.  I'm asking God to promise me that everything will be fine, and that it will always be fine over long spans of time.  But I every time I ask God, "Will you take care of me?" God responds with another question: "Do you love your life?"  I'm tempted to think that's a cop out.  Then I realize, no, it is my question that is the cop out.  
     What if we are here to love, and out of love the only thing we can do is create?  Not apologize, not beg, not demand.  Create.  Out of what we are and what sets us afire.  Maybe our life is a direct connection with the Universe.  Maybe we are taking care of ourselves when we love how we live--not necessarily in comfort or predictability, but in service, appreciation, awe.  Maybe we are taken care of when we reflect these things rather than the fear of not being certain what's in store for us.  That's what I am actively pursuing in this experiment of living.  How does our inner world--faith, love, gratitude, wonder--intertwine with the outer world--relationships, work, sustenance, opportunities?   It feels daily like walking on the edge.  But my inner voice persists in doing this mad thing.  A bit as John Francis walked everywhere for 22 years or Jerry Wennstrom destroyed his art, gave away all he owned, and lived 17 years without ego and only in the moment, I'm following an imperative, testing the limits of my faith and pushing through the fear of uncertainty...although hardly in the dramatic way these chaps did; I am not in their league!
     In the film, "I Am" Desmond Tutu is being interviewed about what is right with the world.  He smiles a boyish, innocent smile, and in that warm, musical voice he remarks, "God says, 'You know what?  I don't have anybody else...except you.' "  
     Kinda hard to say "no," dontcha think?

Pax tecum.
    

Expressing the Unspeakable

     For the past several months, I've been exploring some radical forms of Christianity.  No, this post is not designed to preach or proselytize; you may read it in absolute safety and comfort.  Let me simply use the space to share where my journey has taken me.
     I always thought that Christian Science was a fool's playground and kept far away from it.  But after research and conversations I start to see things with a different mind and more ease with this brand of faith.

Mary Baker Eddy, Founder of CS

So during a morning's meditation I was praying for relief from the constant pain in my back and shoulders.  CS believes that all sickness and fear is error in human mental thinking and that Divine Mind is the only reality.  In Divine Mind all is whole and perfect.  We are in Divine Mind.  And we are an expression of Divine Mind.  (It's more than that so please don't draw conclusions about this religion based solely on these comments.)  So I let my thoughts wander with this. What would it be like not only to live without pain, but to live without having to figure out how to relieve it?  What if I did allow Diving Mind/God/The Universe (insert the word of your preference here) to take care of it for me?  What if I let go of a need to control or have the answer and simply get out of the way of the expression?  Not only in this instance but in all things?  What would my life be like then?
     Then I began thinking of Meister Eckhart.  He was a 13th century Christian mystic who described God as "unspeakable" in that the concept, the power, the is-ness is beyond human comprehension.  But It is always "expressing" Itself through us and all things.  His sermons departed from the party line so extremely that he was posthumously censored.  You can see why I like this fellow.
    I began to feel excitement.  Anticipation.  Fun.  Yes, fun!  I would be experiencing my life as the power greater than myself took over and said, "Stand back, kid, and watch this!"  You know those times yourself.  Someone picks you up to go somewhere--you don't know where because it's a surprise--and suddenly you are in the midst of a delightful adventure.  It may be the restaurant you've always wanted to try or a visit with a friend you haven't seen in years.  You have no control over how it happens, but it's absolutely what you want, and you get it!  That's what this feels like to me.

Meister Eckhart, actually a fun guy!

     When I awake each day, I no longer ask, "What can I do to be of service?"  Now I wonder, "How will God express Itself through me today?"  I am less an operator in this scenario and more of an instrument.  I push and fret less, and I allow and open up to more.  The judgments are stilled as I trust that, whatever happens today, I am being used for a good purpose.  Sometimes I actively assist a friend with a project.  Other times I am the receptacle for others' gifts, allowing them to practice generosity.  Sometimes I am the laughter.  Or am I the stillness.  But more and more, I am allowing myself to be "the expression" of what is whole and perfect
     You don't have to read about CS or turn this into a religious quest.  But I do invite you to play with the idea of being an expression of the Universe and letting go of the need to know how and why and all those other cerebral blocks that masquerade as necessities.  Just see where It takes you today.  And if you have an adventure or an insight, please share it here with us.  Everyone loves a good story.

Pax tecum.

The Beginning of the World as We Create It

     On December 21, the rumor went, the Mayans predict the end of the world.  Remember?  I've been reading some new information about that.  Some of it seems to suggest that when they figured out how the cycle runs they just didn't bother to repeat it.  The calendar doesn't end so much as it has a coda.  But it is also the so-called dawning of the Age of Aquarius with a remarkable astronomical phenomenon which will take place when heavenly bodies line up in a way not to happen for another gazillion years.  While my jury is still out about astrology, I'm a believer in energy.  Does the moon afffect the tides and our emotions?  Is Reiki any stranger than Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle?  Western science and ancient healing practices all seem to be converging in their ideas of energy as life force.
     Collective consciousness is a form of energy.  How many of you read or listen to the news?  What you are consuming is certainly information, but it's not the only information there is.  It is the information that sells.  But if that is all we consume, our collective consciousness creates an energy that supports a fear-based world.  Here's news you may not have heard:  

• Belo Horizonte, Brazil ended hunger in its city because it chose to regard food as a human right.  And it is engaging local farmers to help.
• Farming community Wildpoldsried, Germany produces 321% more energy than it needs and is generating $5.7 million in annual revenue, all by choosing to go as green as possible.   
• 17-year-old Angela Zhang's after school project could lead to a potential cure for cancer. 

Imagine our collective energy if these were the lead stories, and war and corruption were relegated to small items in the backwater of the media.  The world could be heaven on Earth.
     So rather than think of December 21 as the end of the world as we know it, you are invited to think of it as a beginning.  Set aside some time to contemplate, write, or create a ritual as a way to lead you into the world as you imagine it.  What do you want to see?  How do you want to be?  How can you co-create with others?  If you need some inspiration, let me direct you to servicespace.org.  I'm volunteering with them, and let me tell you, the world is a beautiful place there!  Please visit it.  Then raise a glass with me and toast the Mayans on "New Age's Eve."

Pax tecum.

Faith over Fear Part One

     What is your life about?  What are the core values?  What do you want it to mean when it is done?  I ask myself these questions on a daily basis.  The answers are easy:  I want to be of service, I want to lead a more prayerful, mindful life, and I want to be wildly philanthropic.  I can't think of a more delightful way to pass my mortal hours than making someone's life a little lighter, putting more wholesome energy into the world, and supporting the work of others to make the world a better place.  This is no Miss America acceptance speech;  I mean it, down in the bones of my soul.  My life is about service through writing, teaching, facilitating, speaking, prayer, and philanthropy.  I want to use these gifts so much it hurts.
     At the same time, I have to pay bills; I want to participate in society.  That takes money.  Problem is I've never been comfortable holding down a job.  Nine to five, office politics, commuting--all of this just drains me, and it never really allows me to fulfill my mission unless I do that in my spare time.  Such a life is not for me, despite the fact that I have spent years doing it.  It seems such a waste.  I love "working."  I want to be supported through my work. I hate holding down "jobs."  But I've sacrificed my gifts and desires in order to make money.  I've given up my Life to do life.  
     Exactly two years ago I quit my job, expecting my dream to come true in a flash.  Instead my life went haywire.  The paid work I intended to do did not pan out.  Money was running short.  I was swinging from inspiration to abject terror on a regular basis.  I knew what I wanted to do, but how could I pull in the money?  Stay the course...no, get a job...no, stay the course....  I drove myself to distraction and anguish.  How do I get this to sync up?  But in that chaos and pain, here's what I learned:  When I was able to still the fear, things began to flow.  While the "jobs" I pursued evaded me, money came to me in the nick of time in the form of gifts and unexpected work.  
     Another such financial precipice was looming before me recently.  Not knowing how I would get through the next few months, I finally surrendered and sent up a prayer a few days ago saying, "I'm going to trust that things will work out.  I've got my passions for a reason, and holding down a job I don't really want interferes with fulfilling my mission even if it is taking care of me financially.  God, you have to figure this out for me, because I cannot."  And despite not knowing how this would play out, I let go of the fear, the confusion, the waffling, and I trusted.  I chose to live my Life on my terms.  I chose to be at peace.  A few days later, I unexpectedly received some inheritance money that will allow me to do all of the above for the next three months!
   This is the fifth time some work or monetary gift has come out of nowhere to help me.  Once is an interesting phenomenon.  Twice is a coincidence.  But five is a pattern, and it's trustworthy.  I don't know what will happen three months from now, and I am beginning to believe that's not my problem.  Until the end of February, I will be living my dream life, serving wherever I can, being philanthropic, developing a deeper contemplative and prayer-filled life. Because when God answers a prayer, I am obliged to fulfill my end of the bargain.
     To lead the life of our heart's desire requires us to let go of fear in order for the Universe to work with us.  We read this in many different spiritual traditions:

• In Zen Buddhism we find in the Five Mindfulness Trainings - I will practice coming back to the present moment to be in touch with the refreshing, healing and nourishing elements in me and around me, not letting regrets and sorrow drag me back into the past nor letting anxieties, fear, or craving pull me out of the present moment. 
• From the Christ's Sermon on the Mount - Do not be anxious about your life, what you shall eat or what you shall drink, nor about your body, what you shall put on.  Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? 
• From the Five Precepts of Reiki - Just for today I will be free from worry.  
• In Mary Baker Eddy's "Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures" - Always begin your treatment by allaying the fear of the patients.  Silently reassure them as to their exemption from disease and danger.  Watch the result of this simple rule of Christian Science, and you will find that it alleviates the symptoms of every disease.  If you succeed in wholly removing the fear your patient is healed.

This fascinates me.  These very different traditions all point to fear as that which separates us from our higher self, from wholeness, from fulfilling our purpose, from God.  So now I want to live my life as an experiment.  If I follow my heart's desire to be of service, to be philanthropic, to lead a more contemplative and prayerful life, does God provide the means?  It certainly seems so.  I deeply believe it is time to let go of my faith as an intellectual construct and give it breath and blood.  One does not live an extraordinary life by being conventional or buying into fears.  I don't know what my prospects will look like three months from now.  I no longer have to.  In the next three months, I will live the life I have longed for, in service, in peace, in congruence with my beliefs and values.  I'll let you know how it goes.

     If you could reduce your fear, how would you spend your life's energy, your gifts, your time?  I'd love to know.  Let me invite you to comment here, and share support and inspiration with others.

Pax tecum.

BSUR

     "BSUR, SUC, SIMIM*."
     I can always count on a James Taylor song for theme music in my life.  Do you get it?  No?  Read the letters individually.
     Whenever I get to thinking I need to do more to make a difference, life shakes me up, brushes me off, and sets my thought aright again.  It was the day before Thanksgiving when I heard a knock on my door.  It was my young neighbor, Juan, with a beautiful floral arrangement for me.  
     "This is from my grandmother.  She says you are so wonderful, and she wanted you to have this."
 Juan and his grandparents, Luis and Maria, are from Puerto Rico.  Juan is bilingual; Luis and Maria speak sólo españoles; I speak English and really poor French.  I gave them some tomatoes from my garden when they moved in this summer,  and I smile and wave hello when I see them; that's as far as we can get.  Luis is retired with a heart condition.  He looks and walks like Thich Nhat Hanh.  But to keep busy he repairs the home he rents, rakes his leaves...pulls out the grass in my driveway cracks, brings in my garbage barrel, rakes my leaves...his generosity is stunning.  All I can do is offer effusive Italian hand gestures akin to throwing kisses and bake oatmeal cookies.  So what the heck was Maria thinking?
     "Juaaaaaaan!"  I said after picking my jaw up off the ground.  "I don't do anything for your grandmother!  My Lord, this is so beautiful!"
     "No, no.  She thinks you are so good.  She wishes she could talk to you, though."
     I looked up and saw her standing on the second floor deck.  Barefoot, I ran across the driveway and up the steps to give her a big hug and kiss.  "Merry."  You thought the word was used only with "Christmas," didn't you?  Maria is "merry" personified.  She just beams when she is delighted, and chuckles they way my Grandma Daddona did; they are so much alike.  Juan followed up behind, and I made him translate for me:  "Tell her I will write her letters.  I can translate them on the computer and put them in your mailbox.  Then she can write back, put her letters in my box, and I'll translate those."  He did so, and Maria got even merrier.

My beta apple vs Maria's alpha apple

     But wait, there's more!  Two hours later there was another knock on my door.  This time it was Luis with a bulging plastic shopping bag.  Again, the language barrier being what it is, I relied on facial expressions to go through the gamut of "hello," "what's in here?" "oh my stars," and "thank you."  I think I managed "gracias" for the latter.   Then, with peace as every step, the Latino Buddhist monk glided back across the driveway.  Inside were three apples, six bananas, and three sweet potatoes each the size of a basketball.  I'm serious.  One apple could feed a family of four.  I'm betting that in a former life Luis and Maria were the ones responsible for the loaves and fishes when Jesus fed the multitude.  Did their generosity know no bounds?  Apparently not.  And what the heck did I do to deserve it?
     Well, it seems just being as I am is all it took.  Seeing them, smiling to them, and making silly gestures tell them that this middle-aged American white woman is safe, accepting, and enjoys talking with their beloved grandson.  Seeing myself through the eyes of another culture tells me that an open heart is more valuable than a job title or how much education I have or how I maintain my driveway.  Without language, we can sense the best in each other, because we hear with our hearts.  And so they inspire me to BSIM in the best way possible all the time.  As do you, my Gentle Readers.

Pax tecum.

*From the album Flag

Stranger than Fiction

     This is pretty much what I looked like when I read the email a few days ago.
     I had given up on an even part-time career in voice overs due to the never-ending equipment problems I was having in my home studio.  You can't market yourself if you can't trust your software.  Given that realization, I was ready to ask my web designer (Bob Tyrrell, he's the best!) to take down the site when this email came in:  
     I found you on the web and wondered if you'd be interested in a voice over job.  The budget is $XXX.  The script is attached.
     No fool, I, immediately I googled this company and the client they represented.  Both really exist and are quite legitimate.  But I was getting out of voice overs.  He may not want someone who's never done a gig before.  What happens when he finds out I no longer have working equipment,  maybe I should...shut up.  I wrote back with a yes.  This was one of those times when my higher self actually trumped my ego and propelled me into the fear of the unknown.
     What makes this so improbable is that NO ONE GOOGLES FOR VOICE OVER TALENT!  Even a fool knows there are studios and web brokers like voice123.com you contact to find someone.  I figured George was a rookie.  He wasn't.  I was warned by coaches and talent that people could be difficult to work with.  He wasn't.  I told him I no longer had my own studio and would have to record somewhere external.  He gave me more money.  He didn't do anything extravagant, he wasn't effusive in his dealings with me.  Simply, he was a pro with a good attitude.  And in my eyes, that made him trustworthy. 
     This meant I could share my good fortune with Jim, the owner and engineer of the studio I had in mind.  Things have been tough for him, as they are for the 99% in these economic times.  But he is a generous soul nonetheless.  He gave me a very fair price for his services saying, "I don't have to gouge someone to make a living.  I just want to be able to take care of myself and do a good job."  I knew I was in the right hands.
     Then George contacted me again.  The client wanted me to record a longer script for their website.  Could I give him a quote for that and record it at the same time as the other?  "Make sure it's fair for you," George admonished.  I gave him my fee, and he didn't flinch.  More money!  And more fun, since I loved the three-minute script.
     I rehearsed the copy, got feedback from John, and was able to improve my delivery.  I also made a point to remove all fear from my consciousness.  After all, I reasoned, this was a gift from God.  Why would I trash such an extraordinary gift with my anxieties?  What an insult!  Besides, it was an opportunity to be of service, a big value in my life.  So I went to the studio feeling at peace about my abilities yet jazzed about this opportunity.  Nothing goes perfectly.  I blew the first line on the first read.  But rather than get upset, I said, "Great!  Got that out of the way."  Then went on to give two nearly flawless reads.  The other scripts were just as carefree.  When it was all over, George said there would probably be more work for me, so he'll keep me on their roster.
     What an extraordinary gift this was!  Completely out of the blue.  And I was able to give some business to a terrific engineer as well.  When the check comes in, I will also be tithing to a couple of local food banks so that even more can share in my good fortune.  This is the stuff one only sees in the movies.  It can't possibly happen in real life.  But then again, life is stranger than fiction.  And why George chose to find a talent through Google, I may never know.  But am I grateful!
      I wish you many blessings this Thanksgiving week, and I hope you will share your gratitudes with others in the comment field below.  I'd love to hear your good news.  We all would!

Pax tecum.
    

Reflections in Fur: Part Deux

     Okay.  I succumbed to feline mind control.  Larry decided he'd had it with outdoor living, so he just barged into my house one day and wouldn't leave.  He is endearing, affectionate, and absolutely infatuated with me, but he's gunning for Bucky.  As I feared, Larry is an unneutered male.  Territorial with a capital "T."  It has been a trying three weeks as I attempt to keep the two at bay.  When I took Larry to the vet for his shots, it was discovered that he has the feline version of HIV.  While Bucky has had his shot for this, it is not 100% effective against the disease, especially since it is transmitted by blood.  And what better way to transmit blood than by fighting tooth and claw?  So not only must I keep the two of them apart for Bucky's sake, I cannot let Larry outdoors anymore.  He is forever under quarantine.
     The vet suggested I put Larry up for adoption with someone who might take a special-needs cat.  I called animal rescue shelters and sent out gobs of emails, but to no avail.  Thankfully Bucky loves the outdoors and is being a good sport about this, but it's getting cold and wet out there.  So I put Larry in the laundry room when I go to sleep or leave for a few hours so that Bucky can sneak in, eat, drink, and relax a bit.
     So what was Larry reflecting for me?  Trust.  When faced with intractable problems, I send up a prayer:  "Make a way out of no way."  I was having major fears.  Would I need to give Bucky up for adoption for his health's sake?  Would I make myself crazy trying to keep two cats apart for the rest of their lives?  Could I afford his upkeep?  But through it all, the Still Small Voice just said, "Wait.  Give this time.  There's a solution."  And so, I put my fears aside and trusted; what else was I to do?
     A few days later my vet called to inquire if I had found a placement for Larry.  I told her no.  "Well, I just had a client come in who's looking for a companion for his quarantined FIV cat.  Here's his number.  He'd like to talk to you."  Colin and I spoke for a good long time.  This man is serious about cats; he has eight!  And his home is set up to accommodate each of them with their varying needs.  After his family visited here, they all decided that Larry would be a good match for Skittles.  To top it off, they graciously offered to take the neutering responsibility off my hands, saving me a bundle of money!
     Larry will go to his new home November 2nd.  Bucky can return to the comfort of his home, and I can relax...with some tears to be sure.  Larry is a dear and I do love him.  But I know two things:  he'll be in good hands, and I can trust a Loving Power greater than my fears and limited resources to bring about a perfect solution.  I hope this inspires you to trust more, too.

Pax tecum.
    

Pray to the Moon

O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon,

That monthly changes in her circled orb

Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, II,ii 

 

     Poor Juliet.  Not wanting Romeo to swear on what is changeable she insists on the certainty of her new-found love lest she feel betrayed and broken if he prove fickle.  It is a lovely and understandable wish, especially when we are young and untempered.  As we grow older, we discover that  change is the only constant in life.  Change is life.  And while it can hold sorrows, so can living in stagnation.  When we risk our hearts and egos, we have so much to learn and share.

     During the summer I had an inspiration to teach a course called "I'm No Pigeon: A Career Workshop for the Unconventional," the namesake of this blog.  I imagined that, like me, there were others out there who were pursuing unconventional lives or desired to follow an unconventional career path.  I spent hours developing the curriculum, loving every minute of it, believing it would be useful and inspiring.  Our Adult Education program accepted the proposal, and it was launched.

     Imagine my surprise when one student wanted to learn how to start dating again and another wanted to stay in his current line of work but move to a new company.  This is not what I had planned.  I could have gotten annoyed if I believed they were not giving me what I wanted (the satisfaction of seeing my opus come to life).  Instead I chose to change the curriculum.  I had a few hours of doubt and anxiety; would this be anywhere near as good as my other program?  Would it be helpful?  Can I make this change successfully in my own mind--which is code for can I check my ego at the door and make this course about them instead of me?  But I listened for the common thread in their three goals.  Fear of change!  Well, whaddya know?  With this in mind, I pulled out a trusted book on the subject (Barbara Sher's Wishcraft.  Get it!), sent them pertinent chapters, and hoped for the best when the class met again.

     Fascinating commonalities surfaced for all of us.  Change is terrifying, but being stuck in paralysis is no longer tenable.  We must acknowledge our fears with deep compassion, a lot of good humor, and supportive companions.  My participants were inspired, reluctant, confused, pensive, on fire, laughing--anything but passive.  They were alive!  These good people are helping and inspiring each other--and me--to take more risks.  The course is not yet over, neither are their endeavors.  This is a continuing story, but one that is so satisfying to be a part of. 

     We all want the constancy of happiness and comfort, or at least the constancy of what we are accustomed to.  "The devil you know...." It is also the potential for a rut.  And when we change internally, what may once have been comfortable now makes us chafe.  Change can be sweet, challenging, breathtaking, heartbreaking.  But it engages us all the time.  So what better goddess to invoke than the Moon?  She changes but is constantly there, even if she is obscured by clouds or dips below our vision.  Pray to the Moon that you may face change with an open heart, an open mind, and open hands. 

Pax tecum.

Saving a Life

     I'm sitting here typing with the tell-tale signs of an apheresis donor:  two red plastic bandages wrapped around my two elbows.  In this process platelets are separated from the rest of your blood.  Why platelet donations?  They are desperately needed for people undergoing chemotherapy for one reason.   It takes three pints of whole blood to make one donation of platelets.  And because this process is so complex, fewer people take the time or make the drive to the center to do it.
     The procedure is a little freaky.  You sit in a recliner with a syringe in one arm sucking out blood.  It goes through a machine that looks like something out of Lost in Space where the platelets are separated out.  Platelets are collected in a plastic bag where they take on the distinct look of egg drop soup.  The blood is then infused with saline solution to make up the volume, and pumped back into your other arm through another syringe.  For me the whole process takes 100 minutes, and I can donate two servings. 
     During this time you cannot close your eyes because the staff needs to know you are awake and activating your squeeze toy to keep your vein open.  To pass the time you watch a movie.  If I'm lucky I watch one of my choice, a comedy.  If I'm not lucky, I watch what some guy requested which usually includes evil doings, violence, and a woman dressed in little more than lingerie.  I don't like being upset during a donation, preferring that my blood is as free from adrenaline as possible.  When I'm faced with the movies I dread, I just stare at the walls and try to meditate with my eyes open.
     Since you can't use your arms, you can't read, write, or even scratch your nose.  But the wonderful staff is very accommodating and will rub your nose with a piece of gauze if you need it.  Or, as in my case today, dry your eyes as you sit there weeping over some happy ending in a feel-good flick.  You don't get to eat or drink.  However, the chemical in the needle that is used to keep your blood from clotting can cause side effects:  itchy nose, dry mouth, numb lips, sleepiness, or nausea.  The cure?  Tums!  Just ask for them--regular or sugar-free--and you can have all you want.  They work like a charm.
     When it's all over you get to have a free lunch of your choice, beverages, snacks, and sometimes a thank you gift like a free oil change or gallon of ice cream.  I dread the T shirts though.  I had waaaaaay too many of those, and I rarely wear them.
     Does all of this seem really arduous to you?  It is.  Add to that the 45 minute drive up to the donation center, and I can devote half a day to this appointment.  It can be tedious as all heck.  Your arms ache, you fight drowsiness, and you are immobilized for almost two hours.  But then I think of a child undergoing chemotherapy who can't go out and play.  Or the middle-aged man who can't work because his cancer treatments make him too sick.  Then it doesn't seem so bad after all, and I remember why I'm doing this.  My first blood donation.  I was giving the standard pint of blood when a staff member asked what my type was.  "A positive. " "Good!"  she said.  "We were really low on that.  You're going to save someone's life today."  Her words hit me like a falling piano.  No amount of money, legislation, or good intentions can take the place of blood.  You have to open up a vein and share part of who you are with a total stranger.  Frankly, I can't think of anything more awesome than that.
     If you ever feel like you aren't doing much to save the world, let me invite you to come with me to the apheresis center in Farmington, CT.  And over the course of half a day, attached to freaky medical equipment, while snacking on Tums and watching a movie, you can actually save a life.  SAVE A LIFE!  Think about it.  How often do we get the chance to be brave and save a life?  This offer is real.  Contact me.  I'll get you through it.

Pax tecum
    

Follow the Energy

     I'm no stranger to anxiety.  It gets the best of me when I overwhelm myself and lose my center.  But in those moments, I think of what my friend Richard always says:  Follow the energy.
     Today I had a lot of things to do and people to connect with.  This is good because I want to be useful.  But thinking of them all at once along with imagined consequences?  Mmmmmm, not so good.  How to break that mindset?  Well I was making my coffee around 6:45am enjoying a beautiful sunrise in the east, when I noticed a very dark sky in the west.  I love the play of light in the sky, so I abandoned kitchen duty to follow my energy up to the back porch.  Amazingly, there was a rainbow stretching across my neighbor's house!  First I had no inkling it would rain this morning; the sky looked that innocuous.  Then to see this wonder of nature just blew me away.  What a reward for breaking with habit and acting on impulse.
     Then my roofer showed up to investigate the cause of the leak on my front porch.  He is very pleasant and knows his stuff.  Since I had all these things to do, I was hoping he'd just do his work, give me the diagnosis, and be off.  But then I followed my energy.  I let him engage me in a 90-minute conversation that left my jaw hanging.  He loves the roofing work, but he is also a writer, a musician, and an inventor!  "See that gadget on your storm door that keeps it open when you push the button?  I invented that."  One fascinating revelation after another.  He is probably the most "non-pigeon" person I've ever met in my life.  Trust me, I'm staying in touch with him.
     Finally, I began my course, "I'm No Pigeon," this evening at our adult education program.  I had done little preparation for it; I like to conjure the opening remarks just to get myself pumped up for the class.  But I was sidetracked by everything else that day and ran out of time.  I simply followed the energy instead.  Sure enough I was sharing my  insights with the students when one leaned forward with light bulbs going off over his head.  Whatever I had said resonated with him deeply, and he began to think about his situation differently.

    Anxiety almost got the better of me.  When I allowed myself to feel burdened, I blocked myself off from inspiration.  But when I chose to open myself to inspiration, there it was.  Will it always be this dramatic?   Who knows?  But each day is different, each moment presents opportunities.  So what opportunities might you be missing by being caught up in your own anxieties?  Just be aware and open to inspiration.  I'd love to know what you discovered.

Pax tecum.

Being Vulnerable to Gifts - Part 2

Wow!  What a great day and a half I had at the Cape Cod Writers Conference.  Imagine a place where you just walk up to people and ask, "What do you write about?" English gardens, the vegan diet, soldiering in Vietnam, poetry.  Whether novice or published author, all were willing to share advice and experiences.  Sadly, it was nowhere near the shoreline, but I did have an awesome cod dinner.

I knew when I went there something extraordinary would happen.  It did.  But not what I could have foreseen.  I sat reading in the large comfortable lobby when inexplicably I ascended into a state of higher consciousness.  This has happened to me twice before but under very different and very private circumstances.  Here I was out in public!

I began people watching intensely.  The playful exchange between a middle-aged man and his three-year-old daughter.  A gorgeous woman in her 70s looking every inch turquoise blue and seaside fashionable.  My heart blew open.  How extraordinary all these people seemed to me, even though I knew nothing about them.  

Then I saw him, the young man I came here for.  Dressed modestly in a white shirt and black trousers, he politely approached the man at the registration desk and asked for something.  The clerk replied, "We don't have any openings at the moment, but you can fill out our application, and maybe we'll have a job for you in a few weeks."  He took the papers and looked around this bustling lobby.  I smiled and silently drew him over to the empty seat at my table.  Just as silently he spent the next 20 minutes filling out the form.  I heard a persistent voice in my head, "You are so dearly loved.  You are so dearly loved!"  As a Reiki practitioner I knew simply to get out of the way and just hold the space for this love to flood through me to him.  I would glance at him from time to time, but nothing seemed to divert his attention.  Why he needed this gift I'll never know.  But it was imperative that he receive it.  With his application completed, he got up and returned it to the clerk who kindly assured him they'd keep it on file.  Then he walked out.

The rest of the program was immensely helpful to me, and my acquaintance's workshop opened my mind to new ways of writing.  But nothing could compare with this experience.  The conference ended.  The weather turned ugly.  I packed up the car.  It would be a stormy ride back to Connecticut.  As I eased out of the parking lot into the traffic teeming with weekend tourists, I struggled to read the street signs as I made my way out of Hyannis.  And then one last miracle.  I saw my young man biking with a friend through these same streets, smiling and laughing with abandon.  Mission accomplished apparently.

Pax tecum.

Being Vulnerable to Gifts

There's a line from James Taylor's, Baby Boom Baby, that I've been singing to myself a lot these days:  What do I do if my dream comes true?  We can spend so much time planning, worrying, and visualizing that when a long-awaited event actually happens we shrink back a step.  Uh oh.  Now what?

In my case I whipped out my credit card.  That was hard in this time of fiscal austerity.  But when the Universe handed me the gift of an opportunity, "no, thank you" was not an option.  Just a couple of days before I had sent up a prayer saying, "I need things to come into my life now.  I can't wait any more, and I'm tired of blocking them.  I am willing to let go of all the self-imposed limitations on my life.  I am open to receiving. " 

Acting upon my new-found courage, I reached out to two authors I admire.  We are merely acquaintances, but that was enough for me to send them my declaration that I was now pursuing a career in writing and ask for some advice.  I imagined prescriptions on how many pages to write daily, the useful e newsletters.  But noooooooo!  Two days later I got the first gift from one author which set my world reeling.  "You've got to go to writers conferences.  There's one in Cape Cod next week, and I'll be there."  My heart stopped for a few seconds.  I have been pinching pennies for some time as I go through this evolution.  I know how much conferences and hotels cost.  It was madness to think I should spend $400 and drive up there.  But resistance seemed like ingratitude.  So I signed up for a day and a half of courses and one night in a posh conference center on the Cape.  I cannot imagine what will happen when I get there, but something will.  If nothing else, I'm getting some really good seafood.

The second gift was from the author who just happens to be living the life I want.  I met her at a book signing and liked her instantly.  She responded to my email by saying some very comforting things and giving me her phone number, encouraging me to call her when I needed help.

Reaching past my inhibitions to ask for something is hard enough.  Saying "yes, thank you" is harder still because it propels me into the world at large.  I'm now vulnerable to gifts!  Who knows what else may befall me and how I shall have to respond?  But the logical conclusion to this line of questioning is what gifts might I bear for others?  Whose life might I step into at the right time in answer to their prayers with the gift they've been hoping for because I chose to step outside my own limitations?  I can't wait to find out.  And I promise to send postcards along the way!

Pax tecum.

Strawberry Fields Impermanently

"Let me take you down 'cause I'm going to..."

...Jones Family Farms in this case.  It was the end of the season, and I wanted to be sure to get some fresh strawberries. I'm always amazed that fresh-picked strawberries are so juicy, unlike store bought which tend more toward crunchy. 

The folks at Jones will give you a large box before you go out into the field.  But this single chick figured better take just one plastic container of my own, and when it was full, that was it.

While it was a hot and sticky day downtown, up on Pumpkin Seed Hill the wind blew refreshingly over those of us picking in between the rows.  You have to be very careful not to step on trailing vines or bump into overly ripe fruit.  In this approach to the task, I experienced something like reverence.  The act of kneeling, moving slowly, and gingerly pinching the stems made me mindful not only of the berries but of the day and those around me.  The leaves felt leathery and hearty.   I could hear a mother with her children giggling through the rows with evidence of sampling on their chins.

The picking became a meditation that I did not wish to end.  Everything was so perfect.  But my container was filling up.  A dialog began in my head.  "I wish I had another container."  "Why?"  "I'd like to pick more!"  "But you know you can't eat more. They'll just go bad, and you'll throw them out."  "True.  When the container is full I will stop and have just what I need and want."  "Enough" is a difficult concept for our consumer society.  We don't want to run out of things or let go of gorgeous experiences.  But if they are always there, they becomes commonplace.  We miss what made them special.  We toss the unused portions into the compost bin.

The next time you go to a store, just check in with yourself without judgments.  Are you shopping  only for necessities?  If something not on the list strikes your fancy, do you put it in the carriage?  Are you standing in front of the jam section looking at the ten different brands trying to decide which to buy?  Do you remember when your city had a power outage, and you were staring at the last jar of mint jelly on the shelf?  Permanence.  Impermanence.  Enough.  Too much.  Not enough.  I just offer this as an idea to play with.  You may find by exploring these words you examine whether you are living a particular moment on purpose or on autopilot, in the past, future, or present.  Nothing more.  But maybe the awareness is enough.  Savor your awareness.  It's so juicy!

Pax tecum.