Let Life Live You

Photograph © 2015 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 2015 Peggy Kornegger
There’s a refrigerator magnet I’ve seen for sale in some stores that reads: “You make plans. God laughs.” I love that reminder to let go and allow life to unfold instead of constantly struggling to control it. It’s a reminder I need quite often, as most of us do, I would guess. Our educational institutions teach us very early that working hard and trying are rewardable attributes. “Going with the flow” or using intuitive insight to guide daily activities is just not acceptable behavior within a system geared to the future productivity of adults-in-the-making. In first grade, we even have “Think and Do” workbooks to teach us how to achieve control over our classroom studies. So, by the time we reach adulthood, we are thoroughly conditioned to think a lot and do a lot. We make “To Do” lists every day and try hard to keep life handleable. Never really works, does it?

Life has a way of being messy and out of our control. Plans are continually disrupted by the unexpected in one form or another. What if we could rewind our lives back to first grade and choose a different handbook for life, one called “Pause and Reflect” or “Breathe and Be”? Not completely impossible, if we think of time, and our selves, as infinitely flexible. We can choose to respond differently now and break the old conditioning with conscious awareness. What if you allow life to live you, rather than trying to make life play by your rules?

Lately, I have noticed that I am “allowing” with greater frequency. I watch my life take shape each day as both an observer and a participant. This means that my “soul as witness” is very much a part of my consciousness. From that perspective, I see how “I” fit into what is unfolding. If I look at everything as a divinely orchestrated stream of events, then my own place in it just seems to emerge organically. I don’t have to plan every detail ahead of time; I just respond with awareness to what is before me. I allow life to be a mystery that is opening up all around me. I don’t have to solve it; I just have to experience it. And in truth, that’s all I can ever do. Control is an illusion. We want to believe we have some control because we are frightened of the unknown.

But nothing is known for certain in our universe. Native Americans call it “the Great Mystery” for good reason. Yesterday’s “truths” are pushed aside by today’s “truths,” and tomorrow will debunk them all. What if we could live peacefully with that constant flux, letting every day be a mystery to step into with anticipation and excitement, as though we had front-row seats to a wonderfully innovative new play or film? What if we looked at our lives from that perspective, as both actors and audience? And God as improv coach.

It’s called surrender, a spiritual concept hard to swallow for most people. Yet, if we are to find peace, within ourselves and with one another, perhaps it is something we should consider. It’s not an instant solution to the challenges we all face; it takes practice, surrendering over and over. Still, the more I let go, the more I experience a profound freedom and calm. When you let life live you each day, you can gratefully set aside the endless list of tasks and just be present for it all.

Interview on Vivid Life Radio

On May 19, Laurel Geise interviewed me on her Soul-Guided Living radio show (VividLife.me radio). Laurel and I had a wonderful conversation–we talked about my new book and about living from the heart. Click on the following link, and there is a description of the show, How to Lose Your Mind & Open Your Heart with Peggy Kornegger and Dr. Laurel Geisehttp://ow.ly/N5S0r. The broadcast is now available for replay at that link, and you can also listen to the interview here: http://player.cinchcast.com/?platformId=1&assetType=single&assetId=7624311.

Whose Hands Are These?

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What is sound before hearing, world before language, being before the idea of it? A baby, who has yet to develop a conceptual framework or ego, sees the world solely as spirit without words or ideas. That conscious spirit, that pure awareness, exists within us all beneath the layers of egoic stories and beliefs that we have gathered over a lifetime. The soul, or spirit, is our inner home: the Great Mystery silently witnessing life through our eyes.

A few months ago, I was on my way to a silent retreat in Florida and was reading one of Adyashanti’s books, Emptiness Dancing, on the plane. As I sat absorbing what I read in an almost-meditative state, I grew sleepy and gradually dozed off. After a short time, I opened my eyes and looked down at my hands resting on the book in my lap. “Whose hands are these?” passed through my not-fully-awake consciousness. This question was not “mine”; it came from that place before “I.” For a second, there was only the mystery, prior to my idea of me. Then “I” returned and recognized “my” hands. It was a moment of deep connection with that conscious spirit within, a step beyond anything I had experienced previously.

Occasionally, when I am in deep meditation for a prolonged period of time, I slip silently into a space without boundaries, infinity opening infinitely. I perceive my physical body as a temporary container for this eternal beingness without form. It is an exceptionally peaceful state that I always long to return to, but it is not reached by an act of will, of course—only by completely relaxing and letting go. That kind of letting go is an ongoing evolutionary process for human beings now, and we all need almost daily reminders to release the reins of control. Meditation definitely helps, and certain books do as well. Although on the surface meant for the mind, books like Emptiness Dancing slide between the cracks and reach our soul without our realizing it at first. My own experience on the plane awakened the “I” of me to that place of conscious spirit before and beyond form, if only momentarily. A new and more profound level than I had reached through meditation alone.

We are all heading in this direction, I believe. The Divine is always patiently waiting for opportunities to show us our divinity, our presence within infinite consciousness beyond the parameters of body and mind. During these extraordinary times of increasing awareness and awakening on our planet, the moments of passing effortlessly between form and formlessness may become more and more prevalent. After all, it is not alien to us. We were formless before birth, and we will be formless again after death. Perhaps this time on Earth is tutoring us in eternal fluidity and flow, which is the heart of divine consciousness in the cosmos. We are gradually learning not to be afraid of that mysterious unknown realm but instead to embrace the magnificent wonder of it.

Spring Forward: Defrosting in Boston

Photograph © 2015 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 2015 Peggy Kornegger

Spring is officially here, but in the Boston area, we are still defrosting. After a record-breaking winter of more than nine feet of snow (most within a month’s time), coupled with bone-chilling temperatures, we can hardly believe that the frozen tundra outside our doors has finally disappeared. This winter has been a lesson in accepting everything, especially Mother Nature’s unpredictable extremes. Again and again in life, we are called to navigate unexpected blizzards and ice storms—inner and outer, human and environmental. The seasonal weather variations teach us to let go of expectation and just live with what is. If we struggle, we suffer. If we learn to face each moment with acceptance, we can live in peace and equanimity.

In addition, each season serves a purpose. In winter, the weather can shut everything down, and we are often forced to stay inside. Sometimes inactivity, the restorative pause, is necessary. In fact, it always is. (Animals hibernate; perennials die to the ground.) It doesn’t always feel good or “right” to us. We think we should be doing something, anything, to move forward, progress. Yet non-doing is crucial to nature’s, and our, cycles of life. The slowing down and dying away in autumn and winter allow for the rebirth and resurgence in spring. In the midst of the expansiveness and warmth of summer, we forget that those days of growth and flowering occur because of the days of rest and restoration that winter insists all living beings observe.

That includes humans. Within the stillness and solitude of a heavy all-day snowfall, with work cancelled, we can find a kind of inner peace as we gaze at the falling snow from our windows. Later, of course, we have to shovel that snow! But afterward we can drink hot chocolate and rest again for a while. Winter moderates our activities for us. If we resent the orchestration, we spend the winter angry and cold. If we allow for nature’s wild variations and interruptions, we are less stressed and can look forward to spring with a rested outlook.

Photograph © 2015 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 2015 Peggy Kornegger

This past winter has been a real challenge for me. My soul knows the wisdom of cycles of rest and renewal, but my mind forgets at times during the seemingly endless months of icy cold and early darkness. As the days gradually lengthen and the light fills my consciousness each morning, I feel my physical body reaching out to spring, yearning for warm air, green trees, and blooming flowers. And when they finally appear, I am filled with such intense gratitude—especially this year! The colors seem extraordinarily vibrant, almost unreal, after so many days of winter grays and whites. Perhaps this is another gift that the change of seasons brings: deep appreciation for the beauty of rebirth in nature.

We live on a planet of polarities. Even the warmer climates have their own seasonal changes. When I lived in California, winter brought weeks of rain. Now, of course, the people there are living with a severe drought. The extremes of life on Earth are part of the experience of being alive. We came here for this roller coaster ride. If everything were always the same, we would not be stimulated to grow and evolve as human be-ings–or to dig deep and find the blessing and miracle in every single remarkable moment we are alive.

 

In Silence…

Photograph © 2014 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 2014 Peggy Kornegger

We humans express our selves and our lives in words, language, and sound. It is a learned process, reinforced with every generation. We talk our way through each day, sometimes clamoring to be heard above the general din of daily life that seems to have increased over time. Not only human voices but cars, buses, planes, media, and machinery (leaf blowers, snow blowers, etc.) add to the mix that becomes the “noise” we have learned to acclimate ourselves to—more or less. But at what cost? Today, stillness and complete silence often seem like the dream of a long-gone world. Yet, it is only in silence that we can hear the voice of spirit within, our own soul’s wisdom and guidance. Without that compass, we flounder through our lives, stumbling along the ego’s path of alternating attachment and avoidance in relation to all things. We are never at peace, always running toward or away from something. Only in stillness and soul connection can we find respite from that hamster wheel of striving and suffering.

Silence has always been important to me. As an only child, I spent long hours outside quietly playing alone or reading books high up in the branches of my favorite climbing tree. School was a place for friends and social connections; home was where I decompressed and communed with my self, although I was too young to even articulate it that way. As an adult, I found work to also be a “social” experience; when I came home, I needed large expanses of quiet time alone to rebalance myself. At some point, I began to meditate to more easily access that inner harmony. Gradually, I discovered that the longer I spent in silence, the more peaceful I became—and the more I carried that inner peace with me everywhere I went in my life.

My partner and I recently made an agreement to remain silent each morning until we finish breakfast. We finally figured out—after more than 30 years together—that this is the most peaceful way to begin the day for each of us. We both feel less distracted and more centered. When I am talking, I am not listening, period—whether to the subtle sounds of nature outside the window at dawn or to my soul’s voice within. Once I spend time in that inner/outer silent space, I can truly listen to others, and to life, with presence and without restless distraction. My partner and I start our days in a much happier, more harmonious frame of mind because we have given ourselves this gift. Even in the frequently noisy external world we all inhabit, it is possible to find ways to bring more quiet, stillness, and calm to our lives—and thus to the lives of others. In silence is the deepest truth, the most profound peace.