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!
    

Now

     Lately I've been thinking a lot about now....because it is inextricably linked with time...and I've been thinking a lot about time, too.  Now that I am freelancing my time is my own.  I can chose to work at any time of day or night, which means I can do other things whenever I want.  So I pay attention to when I feel pressure, and pressure is usually about being anyplace but now.  My mind goes back to the past to reinforce a belief that may no longer be useful; it projects into the future and frets upon how things will work out.  But when I'm in now, my mind goes in a whole different direction--toward my heart.

     Here it is May, and while there are definitely signs of spring, it has been a long time coming, and I don't think it has decided to take residence completely.  We came close to frost last night!  But that also means that flowers are blooming later and staying longer.  I marveled at the countless buds that appeared on my lilac bushes this year.  Part of me couldn't wait for them to bloom.  But a larger part of me wanted to hold that moment off.  Once they bloom they will begin their inexorable decline toward death.  So I began to appreciate anticipation in a way I had not done before.   Tommy is another next door neighbor all of nine years old.  He is rather small for his age but a dynamo!  He helps me shovel snow and now wants to mow my lawn.  No, he's serious.  He is also the sweetest soul on Earth.  He'll stop by just to sit on my porch to talk to me.  And every time I look into his smiling golden-green eyes I am convinced that behind them is a mighty and gracious spiritual entity.  Yet I know some day he will shoot up like a bean stalk, get a part-time job, fall in love, go to college, move away....  And in that thought my heart breaks that this perfect now cannot go on forever.
     On the other hand, I push so hard for things to happen now.  I just planted vegetables and am boggled that they are taking so long to grow.  I get frustrated when it takes me so much longer to learn something than I think it should.  I feel deep in my bones that I will be in great shape financially, but the operative word is in the future tense.  I want it now!  
     Yet when I sit down and breathe and observe how time and seasons unfold, I feel myself to be in a very safe place.  I will ruminate over my fears until I can sit down on the porch beside the lilacs and breathe in their elixir.  I can observe my cucumbers and be equally boggled that in less than 12 hours another leaf has emerged off my radar.  I can feel the joy of working with my clients.  I am slowly learning that now can be an eternity in itself.  And life is a string of nows.  Seen in that way we can develop more patience with life and ourselves, we can trust, and we can savor our own becoming.
  

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.

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.
    

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.

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.
    

Struggling with Easy

     Given my proclivity for self-improvement, I see what is difficult in my life and use it as a means to work through issues that are holding me back.  My body pain, my stressful jobs, my failed relationships, my financial uncertainty, it's all useful.  Well either I make it useful or I'll just curl up into the fetal position and cry, which on occasion I have done.  Living alone for 14 years has afforded me the freedom to explore all this, and my life is wonderful as a result since I've learned some powerful lessons about solitude and self-reliance. 
     Two months ago, a man entered my life.  We'll call him John--because that's his name.  It took only one afternoon together for us to realize we were very comfortable with each other.  We had so much in common--interests, values, humor--that it was like reconnecting with a long lost best friend.  And as I had always hoped it would happen, we each fell in love with our best friend.  Cue the lush music.
     Those of you who know me know I am living a highly unconventional life of existential exploration. And without a life's partner, I can just live it, no questions asked.  Now John is in my life.  We spend a lot of time together sharing households, meals, ideas, delights and frustrations.  We are negotiating how and when we do things.  He is getting to know my family.  Then I started to talk about my lifestyle and aspirations.  With no small amount of anxiety, I described how I wanted to live with more occupational freedom so I could make a contribution to the world on my own terms.  I braced myself for the moment when I would look into his eyes and see him pull away from me.  I would have felt hurt and lost.  And that would have been easy because it would have been another opportunity to learn something.  I know that drill by heart.
     Instead this man looked me in the eyes with empathy and respect, saying he understood what I was trying to do.  He said he really admired me and thought this was fabulous.  He put his arm around me and encouraged me to keep going.  He offered help and support.  Then I panicked.  This is not the way it's supposed to go.  Where's the pain?  Where's the struggle?  This is too easy!  I started to invent all kinds of worst-case scenarios in my mind.  I doubted my ability to remain self-reliant as I began to feel I needed him.  I created imaginary arguments in order to defend myself against...against...what?  Love.  I was actually resisting love.  How weird is that?
     So now I have new lessons to learn.  Relaxation.  Partnering.  Sharing.  Happiness.  Trust. Surrender.  I've always wanted a partner like this.  He's here.  I hope I can handle this.  How about you?  When did you finally get an unmixed blessing?  How did you react to it?  How's it going for you?  What did you learn?  And how have you changed? 
      I wish you joy of the easy in your life.

Pax tecum.