Category: Gratitude

Two Teachers, One Spirit

Photograph © Mercedes Longfellow
Photograph © Mercedes Longfellow
Last October, I traveled west of Boston to participate in a traditional sacred fire ceremony with Maya elder Nana Mercedes Longfellow* and a group of 27 others, many of whom have been studying with Nana Mercedes for years. I first met her eleven years ago at Rowe Center in western Massachusetts, where she came to teach with another beloved elder, Gerardo Kanek Barrios (since deceased). A small group of us subsequently traveled to Guatemala with them for ceremonies at sacred Maya sites there. In the years since, various groups have periodically gathered together for fire ceremonies and teachings in both Guatemala and Massachusetts. The teachings, as well as the fire ceremony, are centered around one of the many Maya calendars, the Cholqij, which is a guide to help humans align with the universe’s cycles. Gratitude, humility, and respect for all life are important aspects of the teachings, each one a gateway to inner and outer harmony if practiced with intention and dedication.

Last fall’s gathering was one of the most powerful we’ve had. The level of heart opening was extraordinary, both at the fire ceremony itself and in gratitude exercises we did in pairs later. As everyone shared their experiences, we were all brought to tears again and again by the sheer power of the gratitude in our hearts and the love we felt for one another. Nana Mercedes reminded us that we were experiencing deep divine connection when our hearts opened in that way. These were intensely moving “sacred moments,” as one person called them. It was as if we could all clearly see ourselves evolving, both in those moments and over time. The Maya teachings have that kind of profound emotional and spiritual impact. And, for me, the experience was also very connected to the work I am concurrently doing with Panache Desai.**

Photograph © 2014 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 2014 Peggy Kornegger

I have been attending Panache’s programs and events, online and in person, for five years. I first met him at Kripalu Center, in Lenox, Massachusetts, and he has been my primary teacher ever since. More than a teacher, he is a vibrational catalyst: the unconditional love and divine presence that comes through him shifts people into a higher vibration, and they are more aligned with their inner spirit. He has had a tremendous impact on my life, vibrationally, spiritually, and in every other way. Raised in London in an Indian family with strong spiritual traditions, he insists that we are all our own gurus, perfect just as we are in our humanity and divinity. I particularly appreciate his irreverent sense of humor and contemporary paradigm-busting worldview. Some people have asked me if I feel any conflict between his teachings and those of Nana Mercedes, who presents and practices the Maya traditions exactly as they have been passed down for thousands of years. My answer is always no. Though very different from one another, both in tradition and in personality, I find their hearts to be the same—full of love, inclusiveness, and generosity of spirit. To me, their teachings complement and enhance each other.

Nana Mercedes and Panache each embody a beautiful divine connection that shines through their eyes. They both teach that we too are divinely connected and are here on Earth to evolve—through love. Panache speaks of oneness, divine love, gratitude, and making life a “living meditation.” Nana Mercedes speaks of service to life, love of Mother Earth, making gratitude a prayer, and living in the “One Heart.” Vibrationally, they are essentially speaking the same language. As Panache has said, “If God is infinite, then nobody’s wrong.” I find each of them to be inspiring, compassionate, and extremely kind. My greatest transformative shifts in awareness have occurred since knowing Panache and Nana Mercedes, and I feel very grateful to be walking this Earth path with them. I love them both.

*I have written about my experiences with Nana Mercedes and the Maya elders in my blog and in my book Living with Spirit.
**I have written about Panache in blog articles and in my book Lose Your Mind, Open Your Heart.

The Eternal Moment

Photograph © 2014 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 2014 Peggy Kornegger

 Spiritual masters down through the ages have advised seekers to live in the present moment, where all wisdom, peace, and divine connection reside. Those who meditate know that within each breath is that presence, the spirit within, connected to all spirit across time and space. Whether or not we formally meditate or call ourselves spiritual seekers, we all have countless opportunities to access that wisdom in daily life.

Many years ago, my father told me a story about his own experience of realizing how irreplaceable each moment is. He said that when I was a little girl, he used to be upset that my feet wore away the grass beneath the swing hanging from an old oak tree in our yard. My mother told him, “Someday you’ll wish Peggy was still around to play on that swing.” Years later, when I was 18 and on a graduation trip to Europe, my appendix burst in Italy, and I was taken to the hospital in Venice. My parents received a long-distance phone call in which they were told I was dangerously ill and they should fly to Venice immediately. After the call, my dad stood staring out the window, lost in thought, when his eyes fell on my old swing, now hanging by one rope, the grass all filled in on the ground below. He recalled my mother’s words and realized how much wiser than he she had been. “You were all grown up and hospitalized in another country, and I would have given anything to have you safely back home and swinging on your swing in the backyard.”

At that point in his life, my father was able to see the greater wisdom. It changed him, I think. He became softer in later years, more centered in the flow of life’s precious moments, especially in the natural world outside where he spent much of his time gardening after he retired. Interestingly, it was during those years that I remember him reading William Blake and sharing quotes with me. “To hold infinity in the palm of your hand/And eternity in an hour” was one of his favorites.

I’ve never forgotten my father’s story or his love of William Blake’s writing, which I share now too. Life presents us with so many doorways to a wider perspective that can open our hearts and minds to timeless insights. Just the other morning, as I sat in meditation, my mind preoccupied with some passing worry, I suddenly remembered Blake’s words and was stopped mid-thought. I opened my eyes, looked out the window at the rising sun lighting up the winter trees, and was filled with such intense gratitude for the beauty right before me in that moment. Spirit gives us these reminders all the time. Our days are full of them. We can fear the future and rail against life’s difficulties, or we can appreciate the world around us in all its infinite wonder and variety. If we step into living our lives fully and openly, we experience eternity  in every passing moment.

Remembering

Photograph © 2014 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 2014 Peggy Kornegger
We humans forget all the time. We forget we are human, and we forget we are spirit. Then we remember. And then we forget again. Then we remember again. And each remembering is a blessing. These are incredible times we are living in. It is a time of remembering. Not long ago in human history, people lived entire lifetimes without realizing that they were really spiritual beings having a human experience. That awareness is now infusing the collective consciousness. We are remembering who we are. It may be happening in fits and starts, but it is happening. The planet is shifting, right before our very eyes.

In being human, we may not consistently live out attributes that we wish to embody: patience, compassion, unconditional love, peacefulness, generosity. We forget. We get angry. We say something thoughtless or unkind. Or we lose touch with others because we are lost in our own pain or sorrow. Yet anger, fear, and sadness are part of the human experience. If we judge ourselves harshly, we are distancing ourselves from the spiritual power of compassion and unconditional love. For self as well as for others.

I am learning, slowly but with increasing awareness, to let go of self-judgment when I lose patience or inner peace. Instead, I center myself in gratitude for having remembered that there is a different way and that I can always begin again with each deep breath, with each moment of conscious awareness. Yes, I want to be open-hearted and joyful, and I am that. But there are also times when I am shut down or sad. Recalling the existence of the full spectrum of human experience shifts the energy for me. Each time I remember is an opportunity to live deeper into my humanity and access the love that is at the core of my being. In the midst of dismay at not always living up to how I wish to be in the world, I am learning to trust in my own evolution and growth within the collective planetary expansion. One by one, we are all opening our hearts to embrace everything in life as both human and divine.

My soul is at peace with whatever occurs. It is here to experience all of life through me. If I see from my soul’s point of view, I trust in the ultimate perfection of all things. I trust in the beauty and love and infinite possibility of each moment. I begin to flow with the rhythm of the expansion and contraction of life. The in-breath and out-breath of the universe, of spirit, which is expressing itself through me, through all of us. We are each musical instruments opening to the wonder and beauty of our own music. When we remember that, life becomes a blessing instead of a disappointment. So when I forget and then I remember, I am grateful. Grateful for the chance to know I am both human and spirit, a physical being and a soul. I am one cell in a universe of evolving cells of light and love. What a tremendous miracle that is.

Married!

Photograph © 2014 Helen Morse
Photograph © 2014 Helen Morse
On June 22, almost exactly one year after the defeat of the Defense of Marriage Act (DOMA), my partner Anne and I were married in a small ceremony in Cambridge, Massachusetts. In so doing, we became part of a tidal wave of ongoing historic change in the United States. May and June, in particular, are significant months for the gay/lesbian community. On June 28, 1969, demonstrators spontaneously took to the streets and fought back against a police raid at the Stonewall Inn in New York City. Stonewall became the pivotal rallying focus for the beginning of the gay rights movement in the U.S. A year later, on June 28, 1970, the first annual Gay Pride marches took place in New York and other cities, spreading around the world in the decades since then. In May of 2004, Massachusetts became the first state to allow legal marriages of same-sex couples. Ten years later, here we are, a married couple, after 31 years together.

People often wonder why we waited ten years. Well, primarily because of the tax complications—we would have had to file differently for state and federal since only one recognized same-sex marriage until DOMA was struck down. Also, marriage had never really been on our radar. It wasn’t something that mattered to us, and we had never thought about it as remotely possible. Over the years, we watched state after state and then the federal government pass acts and laws banning same-sex marriage. We both attended national marches on Washington for gay/lesbian/bi equal rights in 1987 and 1993. Finally, unbelievably, the tide began to turn, thanks to the activism of groups like GLAD, as well as countless courageous individuals, well-known and unknown, who came out in their lives and helped to shift public consciousness. In 2004, marriage became an option for those of us in same-sex relationships in Massachusetts.

As Anne and I attended the weddings of gay and lesbian friends, we were deeply moved by the open-hearted love, sharing, and support that took place. We began to consider the possibility of marrying, not so much for legal reasons but for sentimental ones—to share our love with friends and family. We didn’t want to come to the end of our lives and regret not having experienced something so special and really quite sacred. We also wanted to be part of the amazing, expansive energy that was transforming the world around us. So in January of this year, we decided to get married.

Photograph © 2014 Helen Morse
Photograph © 2014 Helen Morse

Almost immediately, magic began to stream into our lives. Our dear friend Ji Hyang,who had just moved to California, told us she could fly in and marry us on June 22. Mount Auburn Cemetery, a beloved nearby nature sanctuary, was available for an outdoor wedding ceremony on that date. From California, Nevada, Illinois, Washington, DC, New York, and Massachusetts, friends and family told us that they “wouldn’t miss” being there. So many people offered to help with the wedding and backyard reception that we were moved to tears of gratitude again and again by the generosity and genuine happiness everyone expressed. Even the two clerks at our town hall were excited and welcoming when we applied for our marriage license. They took our picture and sent us off for celebratory ice cream.

So, on the day after the summer solstice, Anne and I awoke to a morning of the most perfect weather imaginable. Blues skies and lush green foliage framed Auburn Lake, where the ceremony took place. Friends who hadn’t seen each other in decades came together in joyful reunion to celebrate our wedding. The ceremony we had created played out in the most wondrous of ways: flute, guitar, songs, poetry, metta (loving kindness), reflections, and vows flowed seamlessly into an exquisite tapestry of love and light. Looking out at the radiant, loving faces that surrounded us, Anne and I felt like we had been lifted to a higher vibration, our hearts overflowing with love. Every hug, every word spoken, every tear shed, was a miracle that opened up into yet another miracle. Toward the end of the ceremony, a sudden strong wind moved powerfully through the trees overhead, as if Spirit were mirroring back our feelings and blessing each and every one of us. It was a day unlike any I have experienced in my lifetime. A day of the extraordinary and the miraculous—and, as several friends told us, “the most beautiful wedding ever.”

Winter’s Spring Song

Photograph © 2014 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 2014 Peggy Kornegger

The cardinal is a favorite bird on Christmas cards—that startling red presence against the white snow. But for me, cardinals are always linked in my heart to the first sign of spring in a frozen winter world. On some random day in mid- to late February, the male can be heard heralding the coming seasonal change with his “cheer, cheer, cheer” spring song. Sitting on a branch at the very top of a leafless tree in the bright winter sunshine, he sings of the coming of warmer, light-filled days, of flower bulbs pushing up out of the ground, of grass turning green. And of the spring migration of birds who have wintered in Central and South America.

House finches and chickadees begin singing their spring songs in February too. Soon, over-wintering robins and returning red-winged blackbirds, goldfinches, and phoebes are part of the morning chorus. By late April and early May, migrating birds are passing through New England in large numbers. This is what we in Massachusetts dream of and look forward to during winter’s months of snow, ice, and freezing rain. Especially those of us who will soon spend countless hours with binoculars pressed to our eyes, craning our necks upward in order to catch a glimpse of migrating warblers, orioles, tanagers, and thrushes.

This has been a challenging winter. The frigid temperatures and seemingly endless snowstorms, coupled with heavy layered clothing indoors and out, have made me daydream longingly of California and Florida. Better yet, Costa Rica, where many of our migrating birds spend the winter, and others live year-round. Still, here I am in the Northeast, and I am reminded that loving “what is” is part of living each moment to the fullest on planet Earth, wherever you happen to be. The sun rises and sets in an extraordinary display of color and light in any given month, no matter the weather. The cardinals brighten our days all winter long. Their very existence holds the promise of spring.

And, on that February day when the male cardinal begins to announce his territorial presence with song, all other thoughts recede into the background. Spring is coming, no doubt about it. The earth is giving birth to life one more time. How can you not celebrate with such a steadfast harbinger of hope and wonder—the bright-red, cheer-full cardinal?