Tag: soul

Life as Drama…and Serenity

There are times when life feels like those famous drama masks that denote comedy and tragedy in theatrical productions. One mask is smiling, the other crying. On any given day, I can experience both laughter and tears, joy and sorrow. Sometimes both simultaneously. Each year brings new ways that life unfolds in all its dramatic diversity. Yet, underneath it all runs a balancing stream of serenity.

When I was growing up in the Midwest, I remember wondering, a bit fearfully, about the meaning of life as I looked up at the vast star-filled night sky. I wanted to be 9 years old forever, safely reading books in the branches of my favorite climbing tree. But I also wanted to travel the world. My life unfolded in ways that included both those ways of being, as well as extended spiritual exploration.

I continued to be an avid reader (and later a writer and editor) as well as a lover of Nature. I traveled extensively, swimming with wild dolphins in Costa Rica, whales in Hawaii; hiking Machu Picchu in Peru, the Alps in Switzerland. Vision quests in Montana and spiritual ceremonies with Maya elders at sacred sites in Guatemala. Over time, I came to realize that every bit of it was part of my soul’s journey for this lifetime, finding equilibrium among inner and outer experiences.

Growing older has brought unexpected challenges (e.g., breast cancer survivor), but ultimately these have taught me patience, acceptance, and resilience, day by day. Sadness about the passing of family members and friends, as well as apprehension about my own eventual death, are also part of aging. Still, simultaneously, my life is filled with so much joy and love: good friends, old and new, and my dear partner, Anne, with whom I’ve shared 43 years (!) of wonderful life adventures. Each morning we open the door to sunlight over the treetops and birds singing (robins, cardinals, song sparrows, goldfinches). Who could not feel grateful for blessings such as these?

I’ve learned that whether you are crying or laughing, 9 or 90, there is always some beauty to be found in the world (in spite of political conflict or personal pain)—in Nature and in the loving kindness of friends and strangers alike. At any time, I can set aside the tearful mask and pick up the smiling one; let go of worry and embrace trust. Each moment holds all of life. Sometimes we need to cry and release sorrow. But we also need to laugh and find the sweetness of life. And make our way to the inclusive space of neutrality and peace that lives within.

The soul is timeless, not attached to the human framework of hours/minutes; it is beyond circumstance and action/reaction. In our souls we are pure Presence, and we know we are infinite. The temporary form we inhabit while on Earth has experiences while the eternal soul observes everything. Eventually, it all blends together as One. Any separation is an illusion that we realize as we transition, or if we are fortunate, at moments of awakened awareness while we are still in physical form.

With each second that passes, with each precious breath we take, we can open our heart of hearts to a soul vision that will guide our lives to the serenity within the drama. We are here in our human lives to do just that. It is what is meant by Peace on Earth.

Spring Stillness and Sound

One sunny day this past April, I spent several hours walking among the trees, flowers, dells, and ponds of my favorite nature sanctuary, Mt. Auburn Cemetery. Spring is pure paradise at Mt. Auburn: Leave your physical form at the front gate and become one with the spirit of seasonal rebirth all around you! There is an underlying stillness that fills the air. Even the birdsong and wind through the trees seem to arise from that stillness.

I could feel it in my own heart as I listened to the trilling of hundreds of American toads at Halcyon Lake and sat next to the sunning turtles at Willow Pond. My eyes closed, I sensed both the life-force energy and the profound silence within the sounds of spring. All motivation for movement of any kind fell away. I stopped taking the occasional nature photo—it felt like a distraction. 

I was reminded of visiting the Hopi mesas in Arizona, where the indigenous people there ask that visitors not use cameras or take pictures. I can remember a sense of relief and letting go into the immediacy of the experience. No striving to record what was happening, just a release into Presence, fully connected, heart and soul. The Hopi in their wisdom know that this is the essence of daily life, being fully present. This memory filled my awareness as I opened my eyes and saw the turtles with their heads raised to the warmth and light of the sun. In sitting with them, I too was fully present.

Temples, spiritual sanctuaries, and libraries usually request that visitors observe silence while there. Cemeteries too ask for quiet, in respect for those who have passed and those who may be grieving. I feel that Mother Nature asks this of us as well in all natural settings. When the noise of traffic, machinery, and human voices falls away, there is just silence, the essential stillness of the human soul—where we come home and know fully that we and Nature are one.

In springtime, at a place like Mt. Auburn, where life visibly renews itself in the flowers and trees and the migrating birds, I experience this most profoundly. My inner spirit is also renewed listening to the infinitely varied voices of Nature all around me, which are somehow part of the silence. As I walk, eyes, ears, and heart fully open, any residue of mental separation disappears: no subject or object; no this and that. Stillness and sound are One, within me and everywhere else.

Moon, Stars, Infinity

When astronauts landed on the moon in 1969, I was barely out of my teens and more interested in my life on Earth than what was happening in outer space. Everything seemed somehow different, however, when I looked at the photographs the Artemis II astronauts recently took of the moon’s surface, with distant Earth barely visible over the horizon. I was awe-struck by that visual: infinity perceptible to the human eye. Our home planet looked so tiny in the vast cosmos; our individual lives miniscule. Yet all of it was somehow of a piece; I could sense the oneness that connected everything. Perhaps an indication of how far I had lived since 1969.

I grew up frightened of infinity, all that stretched beyond my lifetime into eternal time/space. Late at night before sleep, thoughts of infinite nothingness caused a “brain freeze” in my child’s mind. As the years passed, I gradually learned to distract myself from those thoughts, although they never entirely disappeared. It was only when I began a spiritual journey in my 30s that I opened the door slightly to a different view of the universe.

Eventually, I was able to see infinity as Spirit, as Light, which lives within and all around us throughout eternity. What once seemed terrifyingly empty gradually became softer, almost comforting if I observed it through my soul’s eyes and not my mind. When I went through breast cancer treatment five years ago, my experience of all-inclusive Spirit became even deeper and more expansive. I could see my physical form as temporary and my soul, which was viewing it, as eternal, infinite.

Perhaps we all go through this evolution in our lifetimes, each in our own unique way. Every human life is a doorway to the infinite, and ultimately we realize how blessed we are to experience it. As I stared at the Artemis images of the moon, Earth, and stars, I could literally feel my heart open to infinity, to my own beingness within it and as it. We each come here to experience a version of continuous awakening to that awareness, perhaps not completely until the moment of our death. But actually it is always present.

Our humanity holds divinity within it, and we are multidimensional beings. The universe itself is multidimensional. It cannot be understood or explained by human mental effort, but rather only experienced through moments of profound opening, in Nature, in crisis, in love, in life/death circumstances. Suddenly, everything is everything, and we are One with it all.  An infinite kaleidoscopic tapestry of light and love. This is the view from space as well as from our own souls. We are the moon, the stars, and all of infinity, living one precious life on an extraordinarily beautiful blue planet, shining light in the darkness of the cosmos.

On My Way Through…

“Maybe all we really are is spirit, the spark that draws people to us, the trail we leave behind.”
—Steve Thomas, Spirits Passing Through

In the past couple of years, several friends of mine have passed to the other side, the inevitable destination we call death. In grieving their loss and in contemplating my own future transition, I’ve felt myself coming into a different awareness of living and dying: less specific, more undefined and free-flowing, without parameters. We know so little of what life and death actually are. We think of them as a beginning and an end, but that’s a mental construct. What if there is only Presence, which never begins or ends; it just is? What if humanity itself is one Spirit, made up of sparks that together constitute life on Earth?

I remember my deceased friends as the spirit they embodied in their human forms: dancer/poet, musician/painter, sculptor, political activist. Yet now, they feel greater than those particular creative expressions, more inclusive of all consciousness, within and beyond their individual lifetimes. The longer I live, on my way through the human experience, the more I too feel greater than my physical form and its expressions. I am a writer, but what I write comes through me not from me. And the love I feel for my friends and for my life has no beginning or end. There is an infinite Presence that permeates everything and everyone and stretches to the farthest reaches of the cosmos, and beyond.

I guess what I’m trying to describe is soul, which is at the core of all human beingness and makes itself known through the heart. When I love my life partner, a close friend, a beautiful poem, or a bird singing at dawn, my soul’s presence moves through me into the world. It becomes one with all I see and hear. Soul defies description, yet it fills the world with light endlessly. Our souls came to Earth to be embodied light, to individuate oneness for a lifespan and then flow back into the One.

Perhaps the longer we live, the more we touch on moments of awareness that stretch beyond habitual parameters and open us completely to the universe. Actually, we are the universe, all of it. The universe lives as our souls throughout life, death, and eternity. We know this fully when we die, but that wisdom is within us now. And our life experiences bring it forth. As my life unfolds, the door to infinity opens wider and becomes more welcoming, less frightening. I can see myself and every one of us as infinite spirits of Presence, on our way through, together….
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Note: Thank you to my good friend Steve Thomas for the wonderful quote from his CD Spirits Passing Through.


Musical Voices: Poetry and Song

My parents took me to my first live musicals in Chicago (My Fair Lady and The Music Man) when I was 10. Around the same time, my aunt and uncle gave me my first book of poems, by e.e. cummings. I couldn’t have asked for a better introduction to musical theater and poetry. Over the years, the voices of countless singers and poets have filled my life with so much joy and inspiration. Recently, I’ve been listening nonstop to two extraordinary artists: spoken-word, nonbinary poet Andrea Gibson and Broadway actor/singer Jonathan Groff. My heart gives a standing ovation every time I hear one of them.

Last summer Anne and I rode the train from Boston to New York to see the biomusical Just in Time, with Jonathan Groff in the title role as singer Bobby Darin. The show was so spectacular that we went again in January! I keep playing the studio recordings, reliving the music and the sweetness and power of Jonathan’s vocals. In December, I came across the film Come See Me in the Good Light, the story of Andrea Gibson’s life and recent death from cancer. I also discovered numerous live poetry performances on their website. Andrea’s melodic speaking voice and wise words about life and death are mesmerizing.

There is something both human and heavenly flowing through these two; I feel their voices vibrating within me (goosebumps!), and I want to hear them again and again. In so much of Andrea’s writing, there are reminders to see each moment as ecstatic, what the soul came here to experience on Earth. My eyes and my heart are wide open as I listen, feeling wonder and awe. I experience something similar when I hear Jonathan, his voice a dynamic magical bridge into the heart of each song he sings.

What rises within me is a deep desire to, as Andrea says, hold each second, each person, sacred. To open every cell in my body to astonishment, awe at being alive, the wonder I was born with, as was every child. We can so easily lose it, or just forget. The poets and musicians are here to remind us to wake up, to remember. Each morning’s sun will never come again; it all goes by so quickly. Yet it is also eternal.

Awareness of mortality/eternity reminded Andrea to see the absolute blessing in being alive—the laughter and tears, the poignancy as well as the peace. All vividly expressed in beautiful poems. In Just in Time, Bobby Darin’s musical life is cut short at 37 by a chronic heart condition. He was driven to live every moment as “once in a lifetime,” and Jonathan Groff, playing that role, movingly reminds audiences to fully appreciate each remarkable moment of their own lives.

That message is relevant for so many of us now, at the deepest level, as we try to find balance living through difficult times. So whenever you hear a poem that moves your soul or a song that brings tears to your eyes, pause and completely receive that gift. Fill your heart with the wonder that surrounds you in each second of your life. Remember to find it everywhere. Just outside the door, the birds are singing musical sonnets; a street artist may be performing an original song or poem. Every single one of them is a unique, unrepeatable voice in this world.

Andrea Gibson, “Tincture”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZyglHx86Kvk

Jonathan Groff and Broadway cast, recording Just in Time: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8IPn41fmt8s.