Tag: life

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. 

Walk Through the Doorway

When I’ve experienced any kind of physical pain or emotional unease in my life, something in me often clinched and shut down as I tried to control it, make it disappear. But what if acceptance and letting go of control is the only way to the other side? Maybe all we’ve been taught about physicality and the human form is upside-down. What if hanging on tightly to how we think it’s supposed to be is opposed to allowing life to unfold? And what if acceptance is the doorway to surrender, and surrender the doorway to feeling less pain as I become aware of my soul’s design?

My inner spirit, or soul, knows my life’s design better than my “I” identity, constructed over the years for survival. Ultimately life is not about surviving; it’s about letting go into something greater than your physical form and individual life. Before you are born and after you die, you know this. In between, your soul guides you to deeper and deeper awareness about the nature of life and your journey within your lifetime, and beyond. Everything that happens is part of your soul design. Nothing is wrong and needs to be erased or eradicated. When I fully accept this, surrendering to it without attachment to any particular outcome, I consciously become part of a flow. Life carries me instead of my trying to force it in a certain direction.

Gradually, in letting go, I relax and allow myself to be one with my soul, accepting what seems hard as part of life, part of oneness. This shift occurs when I see difficulty as a doorway and not prison bars. As long as I try to control (and stop) it, it tightens and hangs on. When I surrender to it as my soul’s path in this lifetime, a subtle shift occurs at the heart level. My experience of it is lighter, easier, and I can sometimes feel the presence of a loving beingness beyond and also encompassing my body. 

A few years ago, I lived through a diagnosis of and treatment for breast cancer. Emotional and physical pain arose, but when I allowed myself to cry and feel the fear, it began to release. I came to realize that this was part of my soul’s journey and I was being given a gift of profound connection to Spirit. That perspective helped me through the whole process, not without occasional discomfort, but with trust, inner peace, and tremendous gratitude for a growing awareness of myself as eternal spirit in a temporary human form. Acceptance had been the doorway to experiencing this.

My soul’s journey continues, and each day I am learning more and more to welcome whatever arises as part of my life’s design. I remind myself that everything is Spirit, and infinite wisdom may be hidden in the smallest details. My heart’s doorway opens wider all the time…until accepting becomes so deep that eventually every door falls away and there is only unbroken peaceful Presence. 

Repeat the Joy

These days, in the midst of so much unrest in the world, I find myself drawn to experiences that will lift my spirits. I look for what will bring me joy: a bird, a book, a piece of music. I am currently reading Ann Patchett’s These Precious Days for the third time. It may be my favorite book of all time, certainly my favorite of hers. It consists of essays about her life, and although I love her fiction, her gift for sharing her own personal stories is unsurpassed. In the space of a few pages, I can laugh out loud and be moved to tears. In short, her books give me great joy, and I often find I want to reread them. To repeat the joy. 

Actually, this is how I’ve always lived my life: discovering new sources of joy and happily repeating many. Music and film, for instance. Anne and I often take the train to New York to see Broadway shows: Jelly’s Last Jam, Lion King, Kinky Boots, Cabaret, Fun Home, Wicked, Dear Evan Hansen.* I’ve seen Hamilton 7 times (3 on stage and 4 streaming)! Listening to, and singing along with, the cast albums is yet another relived treat. There are so many artists and songs I love: indie.arie’s “I Am Light,” Jon Batiste’s “Freedom,” k.d. lang’s “Hallelujah”… anything by Andrea Bocelli. On Christmas Eve, we watch the Frank Capra classic It’s a Wonderful Life (while eating chocolate chip cookies!). And at night before bed: reruns of The Great British Baking Show, with diverse, talented participants and mouthwatering “showstopper” creations. The perfect way to fall asleep: smiling. 

Of course, there is much more to life than books, musicals, and chocolate. One particularly vibrant and joyous thread that runs through my life is the rainbow-colored one made up of all the miracles in Nature, especially seasonal changes. The spring songbird migration, with Baltimore orioles weaving intricate hanging nests and wood thrushes singing exquisite flutelike solos. Summer lilies, azalea, and rhododendron blooming in a multitude of colors, and robins greeting the dawn. In autumn, maple and oak leaves turn golden, red, and orange, and the air is crisp and invigorating. December brings the magical first snowfall of winter. For me, the delight of each season in New England is that it comes again the following year, equally beautiful and exciting to witness.

Throughout the year, the familiar faces of friends and family, ever changing and yet so much the same, fill my life with love and caring. This is my greatest joy, celebrated and repeated over and over, both short- and long-distance. So many years of connections. My parents were with me nearly 50 years; many of my friends have also been in my life that long. And Anne, my life partner, and I have shared our lives for more than 42 years (including 22 years with our beloved cat Lily). Blessings beyond words, all that we have lived through together—and more to come.

The wonders that have touched my heart remain with me. To re-experience them is a gift, one I do not take for granted. We have only so much time on this planet, so why not joyfully celebrate every spring bird migration, every perennial that reblooms, every book or song that moves us, and every “I love you” from those dear to us? As our lives pass through us, we are given the opportunity to do that daily. I remind myself of this every morning with a prayer of gratitude for another “precious day” fully lived and appreciated. And then tomorrow… repeat the joy!
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*Saw Just in Time, the new Bobby Darin biomusical with the remarkable Jonathan Groff, last weekend for my birthday—pure joy and definitely repeatable! 

Family

There are many meanings of the word family: bloodlines, cultural background, soul connection, life friendships, and more. It has expanded over time, with human evolution and world change. When I was in college years ago, a friend introduced me to the book The Family of Man [sic], a collection of photographs of people from all over the world in different countries and cultures, showing the unity in great diversity. Since then, of course, women have been more universally acknowledged as an essential part of that family, in language as well as perceptions. Widening the definitions even further, family includes much more than humanity.

This past winter I often gazed out the window at the leafless trees in the woods across from our condo building. Their various forms were quite beautiful in the changing light of the day. Then one morning I suddenly saw them differently: as connected, branches and roots energetically interwoven. One continuous entity instead of single side-by-side trees. I could see the trees as family, living their lives together, intimately linked in time and space, just as human families are.

There have been books written about how trees communicate through their root systems, as people communicate through our hands and voices. When I thought of this, my mind felt itself expand even further so that I could picture the family of trees and the family of humans as part of an even larger family of all beings on Earth—and even beyond that: part of families of stars and galaxies. We think everything on this planet and in the universe is separate and distinct, but from a multidimensional perspective, it is a river of unbroken energy, flowing endlessly as one.

The greatest sages taught this over the centuries. Their wisdom spoke of a oneness beyond human attempts to categorize life in order to understand it. “Understanding” becomes unnecessary when we hold acceptance and unconditional love for All That Is in our hearts; that’s when true “seeing” begins. Gratitude opens the door to grace. And the universal oneness that is the essence of family.

So what if all of us saw life on Earth this way, not occasionally, but always? Trees and people and animals and flowers all one within a rainbow of light. One breath of God breathing the world. If we could see that all our “roots” and “branches” are intertwined, how could we then hate one another and fight wars? How could we destroy forests and poison the air?

I stretch my heart and soul to believe that this vision of oneness is possible. Not only possible but arising more and more, not just within the minds of poets and prophets but in average people living everyday lives. Yes, there is dissension and conflict, seemingly everywhere you look, but there is also something else: softer voices speaking of kindness, compassion, and peace. And living it. We are not entirely lost in separateness and mistrust. Our “family” is not dead. Even if we can’t feel or see them clearly, our branches and roots are still intertwined, and our hearts pull us forward to oneness. We are breathing life into this world, every one of us.