Tag: love

My Life in Waves

In the past few years, I’ve found that life has become a series of waves that rise and fall continuously, carrying varied emotions with them. Even in the course of one day, I can feel sadness, happiness, peace, unrest, and calm again. And part of me, my soul, is just silently observing it all. My soul’s view encompasses everything, expanding both inward and outward. My human physical self wonders about the meaning of all the wave action; my soul just accepts it. 

On New Year’s Day, I had a phone conversation with a longtime friend. We caught up with one another’s lives and then moved into a deeper, more sacred space as we spoke of a dear friend’s recent death and other friends courageously living with health issues. We talked about our own physical and emotional challenges as we age and also face a world increasingly at war with itself. She too has experienced her life as vacillating waves of sadness and joy, pain and love. Never one thing permanently but always shifting, moving, even within the space of a few hours. The longer we talked, the more our hearts opened, and a shared awareness passed seamlessly between us. We each found that some experiences had slowed us down and yet that very slowing had allowed us to live fully in the moment and to see the world anew.

My breast cancer journey in 2021-22 deepened my connection to Spirit while lessening my desire for outer busyness. At times, I became a quiet witness to life as it passed before me and through me. Many of my most profound moments of joy in living were/are in Nature, especially with birds, flowers, trees, and the ever-changing sky. As I described this to my friend and listened to her description of walking in the woods and living each moment completely, I could feel that same truth touch us both. 

 And it began to expand further as I realized that the more I live in the moment, the more that moment opens up to include everything! If I look at all parts of life the way I look at Nature (intensively, expansively, with love), then that is perhaps the greatest wisdom of all. Whether I am active or contemplative, I am always centered in my soul’s inner stillness. I could feel it happening within me as she and I spoke.

I am actually one with the waves that are my life, that are all of our lives. We rise and fall, expand and contract, with the cosmic tides that affect everything in the universe. Our lives reflect the spirit within us and in the world. Some call this connection to God or Universal Consciousness. The words we use don’t really matter. It is the motion, the flow, of something greater that carries us. We are being moved to fulfill our destiny as evolving souls on an evolving planet. The stardust that brought us here is lighting the way, even when things seem unclear or unsteady. And it is the waves that are bringing us Home—to a sparkling golden ocean that encompasses All That Is.

Softening with the Years

I hope to soften as the years go by: my voice, my thoughts, my footsteps. My heart. More love, kindness, and gratitude; less worry, fear, judgment. More listening, less talking. Of course, I am already in the age bracket people refer to as “older.” Older than what or whom, I’m not sure. At any rate, I do feel softer now in my approach to life. Years of spiritual seeking and practice have laid the foundation for that. I stopped hanging on so tightly to my carefully crafted version of reality. I opted for meditation and inner peace over angry political disagreements and the need to be right. Of course, I am not always successful, but all in all, I am less attached to my reality as the ultimate Truth.

There are so many “truths” in this world. If we could only see them as ever-shifting variations on a theme instead of finalities that need to challenge one another. Every person we meet has a different perspective, a different voice. A different inner story. If we listen carefully, beneath the words, we can hear it. And that becomes one of the dearest gifts in life, hearing another’s life story. Because it takes softness, a receptive, tender heart, to hear what another carries within their heart. Often it is in being vulnerable ourselves that we find that others can be vulnerable with us. An experience shared opens the door to another’s sharing, which then unites us as one heart, beyond all stories.

All this comes with softening, realizing that we each are travelers in this life, finding our way step by step. As we age, our steps are sometimes slower, which is the perfect opportunity to see and hear more of the world around us. I’ve taken walks all my life: on city streets as I ran errands, in nature habitats as I watched birds and animals, in my own neighborhood as I appreciated others’ yards and gardens. Sometimes I walked fast to reach a destination or complete a task; other times I walked slower, or stopped entirely, to watch a butterfly or bumble bee or listen to a bird singing. Now I walk slowly most of the time because I find contemplative walking more fulfilling than rushing quickly without really seeing the beauty around me. It is a softer approach to life, available to us at any age, but perhaps life gives us more opportunities to receive this wisdom as we grow older.

I know that many people hate the idea of aging and fear the loss of their self-image and physical/mental abilities. Perhaps we could let go of some of our anxieties and trepidation if we saw each year as an open door leading to new experiences and ways of being in the world, possibly more expansive than anything we have ever known. No one can predict how their life will unfold or how long it will last, but we can appreciate each day we are given. I find that the more I soften the need to know what comes next, the more I can accept and love the present moment before me. I also have discovered that the softening of the passing years is a gift in itself, one filled with unexpected wisdom and the kindness of friends and strangers alike. 

Parallel Lives

My life partner Anne and I are often mistaken for sisters (even twins!), but we never imagined our similarities would extend to both of us being diagnosed with breast cancer. My treatment took place three years ago; Anne underwent surgery last week. Hard to believe at first. Again?! Both of us? Yet here we are, living parallel lives on yet another level. This is the soul design we were given. Once again, physical health came up, fear of mortality came up. Life shows you the full cosmic picture at times, and how you view it is up to you. Each person’s life unfolds exactly as it’s meant to, even the fearful, uncertain parts. And each person handles their life’s events in a way that is unique to their own individual journey.

Anne and I approached the experience of breast cancer in ways that are similar and yet quite different. We went to the same breast center, so we both have had wonderful care there with some of the same practitioners. The location of the lump in Anne’s breast, however, varied from mine (lobular vs. ductal), so her surgery was a bit different (both lumps removed successfully). How we each have found ways to come to peace with the whole process is a further variation. Anne gathers and organizes information; the more specifics she knows (up to a point), the calmer she feels. I, on the other hand, find peace and calm in the spiritual overview that everything is unfolding according to my soul’s design. Each synchronicity uplifts my spirits and centers me in inner peace.

So Anne and I move along our life paths separately yet lovingly intertwined. We each share our perspectives, so it is always a mutual journey. I am learning things I did not know before from Anne’s exploration of the details of her diagnosis. And I think Anne appreciates the surprise synchronicities too. For instance, Anne’s surgery day was 7 Tijax in the Maya calendar. The number 7 stands for “balance,” and Tijax is the energy of “cutting through all negative thoughts/feelings to experience the miracle of healing.” Very powerful alignment—and then the added “aha, yes” was when Anne noticed that the number of her pre-op room was 7! We both laughed. Moments like that make you feel that you are part of a flow of universal Intelligence that includes all life everywhere. The cosmic kaleidoscope, I call it.

Another synchronous occurrence was that her surgery was two days before Thanksgiving, and because it went very smoothly, it became a beautiful reason for both of us to feel thankful. In addition, we had almost identical experiences of gratitude after our individual surgeries. I lay in the recovery room feeling surrounded by compassionate bodhisattvas, each one extraordinarily gentle and caring. I floated in an infinite sea of kindness, tears in my eyes. Anne, too, felt intensely the generous spirit of her caregivers. The feeling was so powerful that it carried over into the hours after her surgery: She wanted to call every one of them together to personally thank them for how open-hearted and kind they had been to her.

These are the gifts that each moment can bring, when you experience the magical connections between people and events. A health diagnosis can crack open every door and window inside you so that all you see is the light and love at the core of everyone and everything. Soul vision. It’s in the details and the overview, and it’s what moves our lives in such parallel, yet distinctive ways. My treatment was successful, and deep in my heart and soul, I trust that Anne’s will continue to be successful too.
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*Yet another similarity is that both Anne and I have written about our breast cancer experiences: she on Caring Bridge and me in my blog (and book). It seems to help each of us to share what we are feeling—and to know that there are so many others who have also felt this way.

Speak Kindness into the World

Finding time for silence in your life is important; it soothes, calms, and centers you in your soul’s presence. When you do speak, your voice then expresses the loving heart of who you are, connected to that inner stillness. Your voice can also be an instrument of peace and kindness in the world, healing separation and judgment. We are currently living at a time in which antipathy is on the rise toward those viewed as outside of a very narrow frame of acceptability (one race, one religion, one gender). Our immigrant and transgender neighbors now fear for their lives. We in the larger LGBTQ+ community are also fearful. Along with many others, including people of color, non-Christians, and all women. Who’s next?

There is a famous quote by Martin Niemoller during World War II, when Nazism was sweeping through Europe. He begins: “First they came for the socialists, and I did not speak out—because I was not a socialist.” He continues, each line adding another group that “they came for” (trade unionists, Jews), and he still does not speak out. The last line stands as a powerful statement, then and now: “Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.” In other words, do not sit silently while your neighbors are verbally or physically attacked. Speak up. Stand with them. It’s happening to all of us.

Speaking up doesn’t have to be a fight or an argument (try to avoid antagonism, if possible). It can be as simple as admiring people for who they are, appreciating “difference” instead of disliking it, answering negative comments with positive ones. It’s a delicate balance, because some people hold tightly to their opinions and don’t want to be contradicted or challenged. To speak with kindness and compassion for all people is what we are being called to do in the world now. We are all different really. We are also all the same at the core of our being. To live with that seeming contradiction, in a space of inclusiveness, is the challenge of the years ahead, the shift from a warring planet to a peaceful one.

It begins in your house, your neighborhood, your state, your country, your planet. In essence, everywhere. With each voice of kindness speaking quietly, soul to soul, the world opens its collective heart a little more. It may seem an impossible task, but all journeys are step-by-step endeavors. Many of us have been traveling this road for decades. I lived through the years of “America: Love It or Leave It.” I also lived through the years of civil rights, women’s rights, Earth Day, Black Lives Matter, and rainbow flags on the White House and national monuments. As human beings on an evolving planet, we are all of these things. Individuals who act with hate or unkindness are often fearful inside; they don’t want to “lose” what they see as their only security in the world. They hang onto their belief systems like a life preserver. And fear can form a wall between people. Actually, we all carry fear of one kind or another in us these days.

So how to find a way for all of us to live together in mutual respect and open-heartedness? Without fear. Without anyone thinking they are better than anyone else. No easy answers to that. The walls can feel like they are closing in, angry and hateful voices speaking louder and louder. Doing nothing is not an option. My/your voice is key—not to engage in aggravated (and aggravating) argument, but to find a way through disagreement to mutuality in spite of difference. We are alive at this time for exactly this reason, as difficult or frightening as it may seem. There are many paths to oneness and community, but they all begin with kindness. The peaceful silence within you will give you the courage to speak that kindness into the world.

Language of the Soul

The language of the soul is silence. No words to define reality or limit perception. When we completely align with our souls, we too are wordless. As we were before birth and will be again after death. What is the advantage to being wordless? you might ask. Well, it clears your consciousness. It allows you to be fully present in each moment and each experience. No looking backward or forward; just looking.  The eyes of the soul see nothing and everything simultaneously.

Life on Earth today challenges us to remain balanced in the midst of a very noisy, topsy-turvy world: political conflicts, wars, health pandemics, erosion of human rights, environmental stresses. You struggle to understand and come into balance with the chaos that surrounds you. At times you feel overwhelmed. Yet beneath all the external sound and confusion, your soul sits silently observing. When you take a deep breath and pause quietly, you become one with that presence which is soul awareness.

More and more now, as I live deeper into my life (in years and in experiences), I often find myself with no desire to speak for long stretches of time. On my morning or afternoon walks, I am content to watch all that unfolds around me (and within me) in silence, immersed in soul vision. Huge clouds drift across the bluest of skies, yellow-and-black goldfinches twitter rhythmically as they fly over the treetops, honey and bumble bees visit the flowering Rose of Sharon bushes. Nature evokes peace in my heart.

In truth, I have spent years in training to be at home in silence because I am a birdwatcher. If people talk loudly and make a lot of noise, they scare away the birds. The quieter you are as you walk slowly among the trees, the more the natural world opens up and continues as if you weren’t there. In stillness, you become almost invisible. Robins and catbirds land on nearby branches and sing. Squirrels, rabbits, and chipmunks scurry past. A solitary great blue heron fishes in a pond. Butterflies and dragonflies float by. All part of a multidimensional orchestra in which I too am a participant. The music of the spheres flows silently through each of us at the soul level.

We all play this music; we all understand this language. We were born knowing it. We may not always be aware of it, but it lives deep within us. We feel it when we lie quietly in the darkness before sleep, comforted by soundless sound. At times of great sorrow or great joy, that silent language of the soul expresses what words cannot. We look into one another’s eyes, and we see the gentle light of love shining across time and space. Here we can rest; here we are at home.