Tag: peace

Where You’re Meant to Be

Do you sometimes wonder if you’ve made a mistake in your life, ending up in the wrong place at the wrong time? Many of us believe human beings have complete control over our comings and goings on this planet and deduce that the world is a “mess” because of all the errors that have been made. But what if it’s all divinely orchestrated at the soul level, and you’ve never made a mistake? What if the seeming chaos we see is part of birth pains and evolving consciousness?

Life on Earth today challenges us to remain balanced in the midst of ongoing political conflict and instability. In our daily lives, we may be concerned about affordable health care, housing, and job security. Some people long to move to another country, where life might be safer, more stable. I sometimes find myself wanting to live my life as it once was, when things seemed less frightening, the future more optimistic. But perhaps that view of the past is an illusion and in fact there have always been both crises and gifts in living a human life no matter where or when you live. Besides, you can’t live yesterday; you can only live today, where you are now.

The deeper truth could be that you are exactly where you’re meant to be. With the people you are meant to be with. Doing what you are meant to do. There is an invisible thread of soul guidance woven throughout your life, in both the calamities and celebrations. Your mind thinks it is in control, making decisions, choices, every day. Your soul knows better. It sat down with Spirit before you were born to create the overview of your life. The details arise synchronistically as you live year to year, and your soul eventually emerges from behind the curtain and smiles at you. And you smile back.

When I came to awareness of this divine flow in my life, peace arose. I realized that I didn’t have to worry so much or try so hard to make everything “perfect.” Whatever happened was an integral part of the pre-birth plan. There was nothing occurring that wasn’t designed as a segment of my soul’s magical mystery tour on Planet Earth. No mistakes. The peace that is at my soul’s core guides my entire life. Wow. And my soul is always present within, speaking to me wordlessly, through my own heart and inner consciousness.

I believe this is true for everyone, no matter what dramas are taking place, inside and outside. What if the entire planet is evolving to eventual collective peace, compassion, and kindness? What if we are all playing our assigned soul parts perfectly? Poetry and music come to life within upheaval and confusion. Individual colored lights moving in synchronicity to create a kaleidoscope of loving awareness in the cosmos. Together, we are living Presence, embodied Spirit—exactly where we’re meant to be. 

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.

On the Other Side of Identity

After I completed treatment for breast cancer three years ago, I went through several months of transitioning back to daily life without doctors’ appointments, tests, or procedures. Relief and gratitude came first, along with deepening trust in my soul’s journey as it unfolded. But then, unexpectedly I also felt a wave of sadness and apprehension about “what’s next?” I was a survivor (yay!), but I wasn’t even certain what that meant. As the days and months passed, I experienced an odd mixture of profound appreciation for life along with wondering if I had lost some of my life-force energy. I found myself not as interested in many familiar, but busy, activities. The one thing that continued to deeply engage my heart and soul was Nature. Walking among the trees, bird-watching, gazing up at the ever-changing colors of the sky and clouds. I guess I would say I was most drawn to being rather than doing. 

In some ways, it was not that different from how I had lived life previously; yet there was a certain “emptiness” to it that made me wonder: Had my core essence died with the cancer cells during chemo and radiation? I puzzled over this off and on for some time. Then I remembered a moment of spiritual transformation that occurred during my treatment process: the loss of identity! My identity—eclectic pieces collected over a lifetime (flower child, feminist, spiritual seeker, etc.)—fell away with the hair on my head and the physical appearance I was used to. When I looked at my body, I saw a temporary home for my spirit, or soul, which is in fact eternal. And the soul peacefully observed my life and identity with neutrality.*

Looking back at those life-changing moments of complete soul awareness, I realized that I was now living my life in an entirely different way. My identity was no longer filtering everything; it had faded to the background. What I thought was emptiness or loss was the vast beingness of spirit resting in my heart and soul. I was the observer, or witness, so often referred to in meditation teachings. An almost indescribable feeling: To be in a form but to feel formless, unattached, much of the time.

Our human minds tell us this world is real; our souls see it as a passing illusion, one we come here to experience and then finally break free of when we die—or sometimes beforehand, so that we can live freely, peacefully, as soul while still “alive.” The identity is the costume you wear on Earth; it dissolves at death or perhaps, unexpectedly, during a health crisis or other life-shattering experience. It may take time for you to feel fully at home with just a shadow of identity left; that was true for me. Patience and acceptance are part of the process.

When the identity falls to the wayside, your consciousness enters a different dimension. You realize that human inventions, personalities, and events come and go in the material world. Beyond all those transient illusions is something greater: a Light of Awareness that births all of life. This light is experienced most clearly in Nature, and that is why individuals often feel deeply connected and aware when they walk among the trees and flowers, listening to birdsong. In truth, it is everywhere.

When you look up at the stars sparkling in the infinite cosmos, there may come a moment when you feel one with all you see. If you have lost a loved one or your own sense of “self,” the vastness of the universe still holds you in its loving awareness. More and more now, I understand that that awareness is my soul’s home—on the other side of identity. 
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*See also the chapters “Shedding” and “Body and Soul” in my book Breast Cancer and Beyond: An Unexpected Soul Path: https://amzn.to/4aka0eu.

Past and Present, Here and Now

I heard recently that one of my best friends from high school, Lyn, died a few months ago. I had not seen her for years, but so many memories of our teenage selves resurfaced. We laughed so much together, and yet she is gone now. At least her physical form is. I know her spirit continues somewhere in the great cosmos, but I am also aware of her absence, the end of this particular lifetime. Which of course reminds me of the lifetimes of all those I have known and loved in my life, past and present—and how quickly time passes, in retrospect. At 14, you have an entire life ahead of you. At 60 or 70, you wonder how the years went by so fast. When old friends or family members transition, it makes you appreciate those who are still alive even more. Your love and gratitude intensifies.

Last night, I lay awake thinking of my life partner, Anne, and the 42 years we have spent together. What I felt most deeply was that her love for me is one of the greatest gifts of my life. In joy or sadness, she is always there with me. I told her that this morning, with tears in my eyes. More and more now, she and I appreciate our love and the moments that make up our days and years together. Traveling the world or staying at home. Laughing or crying. All of it is such a miracle: that we found each other and have stayed together for decades. We “wake each morning with gratitude in our hearts for another day together” (our wedding vows, 2014).

And this is the yin and yang of life: grief and joy; love and loss; beginnings and endings, as well as what holds them all together, not opposites but rather one whole experience that stretches beyond past and present to infinity. And perhaps infinity is our “future perfect,” not a verb tense but beingness without parameters. It lives within our consciousness, indescribable in human language but informing all of life. We exist in the now and then, but our souls are forever.

These are the thoughts and feelings that come to me as I remember my friend’s life and look at my own life as a whole. We are so much more than we think we are, because the mind is limited in its perceptions. The soul, on the other hand, is limitless. It has no grief or fear about life and death or infinity because it is infinity. Deep within, we can feel a connection to that wise soul essence, which guides us through our human lives. Even as I grieve the loss of a lifetime friendship or celebrate a lifelong love, I am also touching the threads of a cosmic tapestry that is eternal. From that soul-full place arises peace and a trust in the perfection of All That Is, here and now, forever.

Equinox Reflections

The Spring Equinox has just passed. It is lighter longer now, day by day. Every night, the sound of the spring peepers in the nearby woods fills the air. The buds of the forsythia, magnolia, and cherry trees are slowly swelling in size and turning yellow and pink. The witch hazel is in bloom, as are a few daffodils and crocuses. Red-winged blackbirds have returned, with their noisy ringing calls. The temperatures are warming, and there is promise in the air. Spring always lifts my spirits. Possibility reawakened. Life is hard, yes, but it is also beautiful.

This is the view I hold in my heart each morning. It helps me face the parts of life that aren’t so positive these days: so many people hating one another everywhere. Hatred is completely contrary to the human spirit, which sees “family,” not “enemy,” in the world. How do we keep that compassionate loving core alive now?

For me, it’s those tiny frogs and flower buds that give me hope. The spring bird migration, which I look forward to all year, also brings me joy and a sunny outlook each April and May morning as more and more birds arrive. Those extraordinary small winged beings who fly thousands of miles from Central and South America to raise families in North America. What a miracle each one of them is, their songs so beautiful and varied. The wood thrush’s song alone is worth a trip to the woods just to hear it. Ethereal, flute-like, pure magic. And the colorful warblers, orioles, tanagers, flycatchers, bluebirds, catbirds, and hummingbirds. Enough sights and sounds to fill you with gladness for a lifetime.

In spite of everything, there is beauty in our lives on this blue planet floating in space. So I continue to open my eyes each morning and smile as I look at the light from the rising sun on the trees outside my window. The cardinal is singing his cheery notes, as are the robins, goldfinches, and song sparrows. Humans may argue, fight, and judge one another, but the birds will continue to sing, as the flowers and trees reach upward with all their life force to the heavens above. Each one is a reflection of your own peaceful soul. Open your heart and allow the vibrant life force within you to expand with gratitude and love.