Field of Dreams

Photograph © 2013 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 2013 Peggy Kornegger
The Republicans hate the Democrats, and the Democrats hate the Republicans. There are divisions within both political parties. The American people blame one side or the other, or they blame the President. Or the immigrants. Someone is always blaming someone else for something. There are real injustices and inequities that need to be addressed and resolved in this country—can’t it be done without hatred and name-calling?

We are living through Judgment Day. Not God’s judgment of us, but our own judgments of one another. What can possibly come of judgment except more judgment? Like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, we are lost, wandering through the forest of our own separation. There is no wizard or wicked witch or emerald city, and the flying monkeys and munchkins are our brothers and sisters. Close your eyes, click your heals together, and the illusion disappears. There is no place like home, and this planet is our home. This universe is our home. And every person we meet is family.

Can we open our hearts and surrender our judgments to that profound realization? Maybe the key is to look inside ourselves to where we are judging ourselves. Love and acceptance of others begins with loving and accepting our own humanness. What parts of our identity are warring against other parts of our identity, angry and abusive? Are we turning our inner turmoil outward? At the deepest level, our souls see no separation, within or without. All is infinite spirit, existing in spacious loving acceptance. Individuals who have journeyed beyond this lifetime to death and returned to tell about it (Eben Alexander, Anita Moorjani) confirm this truth. Though not in a near-death experience, I too have been to that place of infinite love, without separation. No you or I, just oneness.

Perhaps we are here on Earth to have the experience of separation, realize it, and then consciously return to oneness. Perhaps the tipping point is closer than we think. In times of great fear or disaster (hurricanes, bombings, mass shootings), people drop their otherness and reach out to one another with compassion and love. Isn’t it possible to live like that every day? How many crises do we have to endure before we recognize our common humanity?

The other day, as I was walking down a Boston street on my way to the dentist, I passed a homeless woman holding out a styrofoam cup for change. Her oversize sweatshirt read “Field of Dreams.” I went by her, thought twice, and then reached into my pocket for my wallet. Turning back around, I saw her also turning and walking toward me, as if she knew my thoughts. As I placed a dollar bill in her cup, our eyes met and she said, “Bless you. May it return to you a thousandfold.” I smiled and blew her a kiss as I walked away. That 30-second exchange opened my heart completely and lifted my spirits for the entire day. For a moment, we both stood in that field of dreams together, no separation. May I remember, may we all remember, that that field is always present. We need only open our hearts to see it.

Free Fall to Infinity

Grand Canyon, NPS
Grand Canyon © National Park Service
Some of you may recall a blog article I wrote last year called “Infinity.” In it, I described my lifelong fear of infinity/eternity and my first individual session with Panache Desai in which he took me to infinity. Unlike the mind-freezing terror I had experienced late at night at the thought of a never-ending universe, what I felt with Panache was free-floating peace and calm. No real sense of time or space; no thoughts, no emotion. Yet a comforting soft energy surrounded me. I remained in that state for hours, and the experience shifted my consciousness profoundly. The late-night fear did not occur for more than a year and a half.

This past summer, however, the terror-infinity thoughts began to recur, more and more frequently. I gradually realized that I was being prepared for the next phase in the evolution of this deep-seated fear. Consequently, I decided to take part in Panache’s 21-day program of “vibrational activation,” which consisted of daily meditations and energetic transmissions, interactive telephone sessions, and online group support. Each participant wrote an intention for the 21 days, and mine was to walk through my fear to freedom. A friend had recently told me that “terror is the final barrier to merging with God,” which actually helped give me a positive incentive for the journey.

How to explain an inner process that practically defies language? I will try. The first thing I experienced was a subtle shift in the energy around the terror, which allowed me to get closer to it than I ever had before. Usually panic took hold of me completely, and I froze. But one night I was able to access what was an integral part of the terror: overwhelming grief. Was this the sum total of life—a universe without end and an equally endless state of being or nonbeing? The despair I felt was so strong that I shut down entirely. But in a phone session, Panache sent me energy for the grief, and I was able to feel it through completely—days and days of crying at the “painful beauty” of life, then anger at the unfairness, and finally emotional neutrality and an inability to access the terror at all. I was in a holding pattern, wondering what would come next. I wrote online: “I feel as if I’m sitting on the edge of something HUGE—like the Grand Canyon with God in the middle of it. If only I could find a way to free fall into that vastness—or get someone to push me!”

Around the same time, another group member posted this quote by William Blake: “To see a World in a Grain of Sand/And a Heaven in a Wild Flower/Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand/And Eternity in an hour.” I have always loved those lines, but that evening I read them as if for the first time. The words infinity and eternity leapt out at me. World upon world opened up inside me. I realized that I had held Infinite Spirit in the pulsing palms of my hands during sessions with Panache. And I had experienced the Eternal Now in meditation, with my soul as silent witness. What we call God, or Spirit, exists as infinity and eternity and loving presence within each moment. Now is all there is, ever, and my soul doesn’t fear infinity because it is infinity. Only the mind is terrified of something that is beyond parameters, beyond thought really.

The next morning, during meditation in my back yard, I sat silently observing all the dimensions of the universe playing out magnificently within me. Opening my eyes and looking up at the infinite eternal peaceful blue sky, I felt my heart and soul as one with everything. No separation, no duality. I am the Grand Canyon and God. And life is a free fall that includes it all.

Present-Time Paradise

Photograph © 2012 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 2012 Peggy Kornegger
Years ago, Stevie Wonder wrote a song called “Pastime Paradise,” which described people who lived their lives glorifying the past or longing for a different future. We all have that tendency because our society fosters dissatisfaction and discontent. The advertising industry feeds on it, as do our social and political institutions. Yet, the quieter voices that whisper “live in the moment” and “count your blessings” are growing stronger and more widespread. If we shift our focus to the present and look at what we do have instead of what we don’t, life is suddenly full and abundant beyond measure.

Personally, I have no doubt that I live in paradise. I love my life. My partner and I live in an apartment in a two-family home with a yard, front and back. Our small-town neighborhood is friendly and quiet. We like our neighbors, and our landlord is kind and responsive. I have freedom to grow flowers, plants, and bushes in the yard, and this is my greatest joy. I spend hours in my garden every day, sometimes working, sometimes just drinking in the colors and light. Hummingbirds visit the red tubular flowers of the native honeysuckle, goldfinches cluster about the hanging thistle feeder, and butterflies and bees fill the air around the large purple flowers of the butterfly bush. What more could one ask of life than moments like these?

Don’t get me wrong. I have experienced my share of life’s heartaches too—the death of loved ones, the end of relationships, loss of jobs, physical pain, etc. But all of it has been part of life and has brought me to where I am today. If I step back and look at my life as a whole, the miracles outnumber the tragedies, and even the tragedies had hidden miracles within them. Events that I feared all my life such as my parents’ deaths ended up being extraordinary spiritual experiences because I was fully present with them as they transitioned. Losing my job late in my editorial career allowed me to step into the freelance world for a couple of years and then gradually move into full retirement. I now have the time and freedom to write and garden whenever I want instead of squeezing it in on the side.

What I have discovered is that paradise is a state of presence, not an aspiration. I truly believe that I came to this planet to have all the experiences I could possibly pack in and that each one allows me to expand more and more as both a spiritual and a human being. Everything that has occurred has enabled me to become more fully myself, my soul self. And I am grateful for every single bit of it, the tears as well as the laughter. It’s a miracle to just be alive. Really. Look at your physical body—how did that happen? You can’t help but be in awe of the infinite complexity of the tiniest aspect of every part of life. Or at least I am. And I think that’s where we’re all heading. Collectively, we are shifting from suffering to celebration, from dismay to full-hearted appreciation for the gifts each day brings. Paradise is with us, within us—now. It really is.

Laugh Out Loud

pak-laugh-in-car-crop2Throughout my life, my favorite friends have been those who made me laugh. And I don’t mean a chuckle or quiet giggle. I mean full-out, open-mouth laughter, where the tears are streaming down your face and your cheeks hurt from grinning. The uncontrollable kind that keeps rolling over you every time you think of what made you laugh in the first place. If you’re with several friends, this can last for hours—you’ll comment back and forth and trigger one another into further hysterics. Like one long slumber party.

Over the years, my favorite comedians were always the wildly imaginative, slightly crazy ones like Jonathan Winters, Lily Tomlin, and Robin Williams. Or the deadpan, unexpected-twist humor of Ellen Degeneres and Tina Fey. Then there’s the situational humor of a well-written sit-com with a great ensemble cast like Seinfeld. Or comedy classics like the Marx Brothers’ Night at the Opera and Woody Allen’s Annie Hall. All have made me laugh out loud.

Laugh out loud—LOL, as we write it in our emails or social media posts. We all love to laugh. It’s in those times that we completely let go of our worries and serious opinions and just relax into sheer joy at being alive. We are in the moment, energy flowing freely. Laughter opens us up physically and emotionally and subtly clears resistance to a sense of oneness with others. When we laugh, we are sharing smiles at the silliness of taking life too seriously. If we step back for a minute and look at it, life really is a sit-com. And we are the laugh track….

I have been known to become overly serious about issues of life and death and eternity. I get lost, contemplating the great mysteries of the universe ad infinitum, until my body tenses up in fear and apprehension. My friend, and loving catalyst, Panache Desai once said to me, “Are you absolutely willing to be laugh-out-loud giddy stupid silly funny?” That was his way of getting me to chill out and let go of the seriousness. Of course, I laughed and said yes. He has a gift for making me laugh just when I’m most intent on holding onto my suffering.

My dad used to do the same thing for me. In college, when I was experiencing recurrent late-night fears of infinity, I tearfully told him, “I don’t want to live forever, and I don’t want to be dead forever either! They’re both terrifying.” He visibly struggled for an answer that would comfort me. Finally, his Irish humor broke through, and he said, “Well, you just can’t please some people!” My existential angst was dispelled with laughter—and the love that came with it.

That’s what our friends and family do for us. They crack us up/open and shine the light in with a kind word or ridiculous joke. Laughter breaks the tension. Laughter opens the heart. Laughter is chocolate and pizza and ice cream all rolled into one. Ultimately, life is both a mystery and a sit-com. Sometimes you just gotta laugh out loud at it all!

Writing Your Soul Self into the World

Photograph © 2012 Peggy Kornegger
Photograph © 2012 Peggy Kornegger

Every time you write, you are expressing something about yourself, sending a vibration, either a faint, half-hearted one or a full-on, authentic blast of your soul self. Whether it’s an email, a social media post, or an article or book intended for publication, it is filled with your vibes—clear and forthright or vaguely uncertain. In the world of vibration and perceived intent, writing is the same as speaking. We are announcing who we are in the world with every word we utter, out loud or in cyberspace. The question is: How truthful are we when we speak/write? True to ourselves, that is.

We may write one thing but mean something entirely different, and the recipient is left confused and unsettled. We may not really know what we mean ourselves if we write impulsively or hurriedly, which is often the case in our fast-lane, multi-tasking world. Meditation teachers often tell students to take a deep breath and pause before speaking or acting in order to bring themselves into present-moment awareness. Clarity of mind and connection to the inner soul self rests in that deep breath and pause. Or at least I’ve found that to be true in my life.

If I rush through the day, speeding from one activity or conversation to another without resetting my inner focus, then I am scattered, stressed, and probably presenting that energy to those I encounter. If I take the time to breathe consciously for a minute or two and really look around at my surroundings, everything shifts into a softer, slower mode, and I have made space for my inner spirit to come to the fore. I feel more centered and grounded in who I really am at heart instead of being only half-aware, half-present in my own day-to-day life. I don’t always remember to do this, but when I do, it makes a big difference in how I experience everyone and everything. And the more I remember….well, the more I remember….

Since I’m a writer, this little piece of wisdom has been invaluable to me. Writing from the surface of the brain without involving my heart and soul makes for dull, inert content unconnected to the life force from which all creativity springs. When I write from my heart, then I experience a conscious alignment with who I am at the deepest level. Words and sentences seem to flow more easily when my heart is engaged, not just my brain. My spirit, or soul self, unique to me, steps forward into the world to express herself. I treasure that connection to my inner self.

More and more, people today understand how energy makes up our entire universe. We are energy, and our words are also energy. Why not make them truly represent who you are at the deepest level, which is love? Use language creatively, playfully, to send a loving vibration into the world. Pause, take a breath, and align the words you write with your truest self. There is no one else exactly like you on the planet, so express your unrepeatable, full-color soul self in everything you write—whether tweet or blog or email. Now more than ever, your voice is needed in the world. Together, our collective positive energy can shift everything!