Category: Gratitude

Life as Drama…and Serenity

There are times when life feels like those famous drama masks that denote comedy and tragedy in theatrical productions. One mask is smiling, the other crying. On any given day, I can experience both laughter and tears, joy and sorrow. Sometimes both simultaneously. Each year brings new ways that life unfolds in all its dramatic diversity. Yet, underneath it all runs a balancing stream of serenity.

When I was growing up in the Midwest, I remember wondering, a bit fearfully, about the meaning of life as I looked up at the vast star-filled night sky. I wanted to be 9 years old forever, safely reading books in the branches of my favorite climbing tree. But I also wanted to travel the world. My life unfolded in ways that included both those ways of being, as well as extended spiritual exploration.

I continued to be an avid reader (and later a writer and editor) as well as a lover of Nature. I traveled extensively, swimming with wild dolphins in Costa Rica, whales in Hawaii; hiking Machu Picchu in Peru, the Alps in Switzerland. Vision quests in Montana and spiritual ceremonies with Maya elders at sacred sites in Guatemala. Over time, I came to realize that every bit of it was part of my soul’s journey for this lifetime, finding equilibrium among inner and outer experiences.

Growing older has brought unexpected challenges (e.g., breast cancer survivor), but ultimately these have taught me patience, acceptance, and resilience, day by day. Sadness about the passing of family members and friends, as well as apprehension about my own eventual death, are also part of aging. Still, simultaneously, my life is filled with so much joy and love: good friends, old and new, and my dear partner, Anne, with whom I’ve shared 43 years (!) of wonderful life adventures. Each morning we open the door to sunlight over the treetops and birds singing (robins, cardinals, song sparrows, goldfinches). Who could not feel grateful for blessings such as these?

I’ve learned that whether you are crying or laughing, 9 or 90, there is always some beauty to be found in the world (in spite of political conflict or personal pain)—in Nature and in the loving kindness of friends and strangers alike. At any time, I can set aside the tearful mask and pick up the smiling one; let go of worry and embrace trust. Each moment holds all of life. Sometimes we need to cry and release sorrow. But we also need to laugh and find the sweetness of life. And make our way to the inclusive space of neutrality and peace that lives within.

The soul is timeless, not attached to the human framework of hours/minutes; it is beyond circumstance and action/reaction. In our souls we are pure Presence, and we know we are infinite. The temporary form we inhabit while on Earth has experiences while the eternal soul observes everything. Eventually, it all blends together as One. Any separation is an illusion that we realize as we transition, or if we are fortunate, at moments of awakened awareness while we are still in physical form.

With each second that passes, with each precious breath we take, we can open our heart of hearts to a soul vision that will guide our lives to the serenity within the drama. We are here in our human lives to do just that. It is what is meant by Peace on Earth.

Forever and Ever…

When I was five or six years old, I began having a recurring nighttime thought that terrified me. I described it to my mother as “The world goes on forever and ever.” My mind froze with fear when that perception arose in my consciousness, and I sat bolt upright in bed shaking my head frantically to get rid of it. My mother tried to help by suggesting I distract myself with happier thoughts. Her loving presence comforted me but did not erase the underlying feeling of terror and overwhelm. Years later I called it fear of infinity or eternity.

It felt like I was looking into the farthest stretches of the universe, an infinite void with no beginning and no end. As a child, I had no language or framework for that. It was so huge, so vast, I felt lost, engulfed. As a young adult, I ran from it, attempting to avoid its appearance in my night thoughts. Eventually I embarked on a journey of spiritual seeking, trying to come to some understanding of the nature of life/death, and resolution of my own existential despair—the grief beneath the fear of “forever and ever.”

Over the years, various teachers, in particular Panache Desai, helped me see infinity in a more positive light—indeed as light, as spirit. I was looking into the darkness, but within the darkness was the light of eternal Spirit, which cannot really be understood but only experienced. A five-year-old child staring at that limitless space does not recognize it as God or Spirit but rather as the unknown; emptiness. Something to be feared. Only recently have I begun to see my child’s vision as a soul gift, which set me on a life path of searching for the meaning of life and learning about Spirit’s presence.

I have tremendous gratitude for that gift, for the awareness it has brought me through so many spiritually expansive experiences. Yet there still remains a kernel of sadness within me as well. A recognition that life’s mysteries can never be solved. Many Native American cultures teach that only in complete acceptance of the “Great Mystery” as such is there peace. I’m finally reaching that view now, and I realize it is all part of my soul’s plan for my life.

For years, I thought that I could “solve” the mystery, and my nighttime fear of infinity would disappear entirely through “understanding” God. This was partially true: deeper soul awareness and trust in the wisdom of Spirit softened the edges and frequency of the fear. Ultimately, however, I am learning that only in full acceptance of life as is, as profound divine mystery, does total inner peace arise. I still have passing moments of sadness or grief about the nature of human life and death and “forever and ever.” At those times, the only “answer” is acceptance, surrender, complete letting go. If I take a deep breath and look up, seeing the infinite blue sky with my soul’s eyes, I feel peace. And perhaps that’s the greatest wisdom of all. 

Patience, Peace, Kindness

These words have become my “mantra” lately. A summation of what I wish to focus on as I live my life moment to moment, day by day, year to year. The three work in tandem, each informing and amplifying the others until together they become an unbroken and unbreakable whole. When I am at peace, I usually feel patient; when I am both peaceful and patient, I am more inclined to be kind. We sometimes forget that these qualities are within us all.

Patience: Major life events, such as waiting for results of a medical test or for news about a possible job offer, require patience. I also find that I need to engage with patience daily on a smaller scale. When I’m cleaning up spilled food or a glass dropped on the kitchen floor, I have to pause and remember that this accident is very small in an overview of the day’s events. When someone says something that triggers irritation in me, I take a deep breath and step off the inner thought train leading to needless anger. There are countless times throughout the day when patience is the wisest response, with the happiest outcome. May I remember that.

Peace: If there is noise outside my windows or upsetting news on the TV, I try to remember that peace is an internal experience, not dependent on external circumstances. This is a big one because the peace that we carry within us radiates outward to circle the globe. It begins with each of us. Resentment, irritation, and anger feed on themselves to become friction and fighting between friends and eventually countries. If we truly want world peace, we have to get in touch with the core of peace in our souls and live it fully with each breath we take and with each person, friend or stranger, we encounter in our lives.

Kindness: If I were asked to name one quality that could make our planet a more harmonious place, I would say “kindness.” Kindness engages the heart, and the heart is sourced in pure love. If we are continuously kind, we gift those around us with love, which touches their hearts as well as our own. Together, we move forward in life as one, not separated into opposing “sides.” A kind word or gesture can make someone’s day; a smile can lift the spirits, given and received. It’s easier than you think to shift the energy all around you to a positive vibration.

Of course, the key is to remember. That’s why I have made these three words into an inner “mantra” that I repeat inside my mind and heart as much as possible. With every repetition, they become more deeply a part of my daily life. It’s only my own forgetfulness that excludes them.  If you and I realize that patience, peace, and kindness are exactly what we would like to receive ourselves on a regular basis, then that could be a springboard to remembering. And in remembering, gratitude too fills the heart, encompassing all three.

The Wisdom of Slow

There is a profound blessing in aging: the pause for reflection. As I grow older, I find that I think more slowly, thoughts moving through at their own pace, unfolding, flowering. I often walk that way too, step by step, holding the awareness that I may never pass this way again: this moment, this experience, this perspective. I remind myself not to miss the subtleties, the hidden beauty, the wonder. Truthfully, it feels to me like the wisdom of a lifetime.

There is a great push to rush through life in the 21st century, as if we were running a race or trying to escape a predator. Many of us feel that pressure—violence and hatred at our doors, poverty and loss not far behind. Everything, particularly in the current political climate, has become a game of survival. Every film, TV show, and news story focuses on outrunning an enemy, surviving an apocalyptic situation. Death always threatening. Yet, life on Earth is so much more than this, if we pause and remember.

Sunrise and sunset each day. Seasonal changes. The love of family and friends. Since the beginning of time, these have always been present, just as there have always been fears and uncertainties. We came here to experience it all. This century may be particularly challenging, but this is the soulwork we signed up for. To remain calm and peaceful in the midst of chaos; loving and kind in the midst of conflict. Humans are evolving, slowly, often imperceptibly, but if we remember the long view we can take a slow deep breath and continue.

I keep coming back to slowness. It seems the key to so much. If you and I rush, we lose one another in the process. We forget who we are at the soul level and why we are here ultimately. When I listen to my friends, slowly and carefully, I really hear the voice of their inner being, what they want to express, to me and to the world. If I speak without rushing my thoughts, I express my heart’s essence. Together, we share our common humanity. When I walk slowly through a park or sanctuary, I fully experience all of Nature with each step and each breath. I hear birdsong and see every season’s flowering. This is the wonder of being alive, no matter what else is going on in the world.

As the days and years pass, I feel all of this more acutely. Yes, my soul is eternal, but this particular lifetime is unique, a gift not to be wasted or hurried through to an imaginary finish line. Every single moment holds within it a drop of infinity, the spirit of all that is, which I can only receive if I slow down and breathe it in with gratitude and appreciation. It is then that time falls away, and my soul and my humanity are One.

A Timeless Morning

We can find many entry points to Presence in the course of our lives. Presence: the experience of oneness with all things; timeless awareness; Spirit. It could arise unexpectedly in the midst of crisis or celebration, sound or silence, solitude or community. We each cross the threshold to Presence in our own way, in our own time. Yet, we all reach it at some point, and if we are fortunate, our hearts open wide enough to live there permanently.

For me, Nature is the eternal gateway to Presence in my life. In small glimpses or panoramic views. Green trees and blue skies outside my window. Distant snow-covered mountains seen from an airplane. Or, walking in a nature sanctuary as the seasons change throughout the year. I have often written about Mt. Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, which is my bird’s eye view to the natural world. And I mean that literally: the birds are always part of my walks there. But then, honestly, so is everything else: flowers, trees, ponds, hills, dells, butterfly gardens and native plantings. To me, it’s paradise on Earth. It renews my spirit and feeds my soul.

One morning this past August, I walked through Mt. Auburn’s gates and was immediately immersed in Presence. I could feel a powerful vibrancy of life everywhere I looked. The late summer flowers (hydrangea, Angelica gigas, Joe Pye weed, phlox, black-eyed susan) blooming in the Asa Gray Garden were stunning, and they were surrounded by dozens of bees dancing through the air, flying from one to another, collecting pollen. Tiger swallowtail and monarch butterflies floated by as well, as did dragonflies. I stood mesmerized by the beauty, the sun making everything around me sparkle with light.

As I walked farther, I heard familiar bird calls in the trees and bushes: catbird, white-breasted nuthatch, downy woodpecker, flicker, robin, cardinal. Bright yellow-and-black goldfinches were fleetingly visible, calling and swooping by like an avian Cirque du Soleil. The chirping and buzzing of crickets and locusts was also part of this symphony of natural sounds, as was the occasional scolding of a squirrel or chipmunk. At one point, I stopped and stood silently listening, eyes closed. When I did so, I realized that for more than an hour, I had been completely One with all I heard and saw, no separation; my mind had stepped aside entirely. Time was absent. It was a glorious feeling of sacred connection and complete alignment with the world around me and within me. Presence. Tears of gratitude and joy filled my eyes.

I have had similar moments before in Nature, but this particular expanse of timeless Presence seemed especially all-encompassing and beyond the realm of language. The closest I can come is to say that my individual “I” had disappeared into the eternal “I Am,” the center of all being in the cosmos. I was one with the music of the spheres as it played out everywhere around me. Later, I realized that from the soul’s view, this is what is occurring all the time for every one of us.