Tag: spirit

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. 

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. 

Remember Your Heart

How do we live through difficulties and challenges with our life spirit intact? The current political landscape is full of such extreme divisiveness and hatred, both nationally and globally, that it is hard to feel optimistic about the future. Almost daily my heart is filled with sadness, and peace on Earth seems like a lost dream. Recently, as I sat staring out the window at a cloudy winter landscape, I sensed similar cloudiness within me. I realized then that I had felt exactly the same way in the late 1960s when the Vietnam War was at its height, and fiery race riots raged in Detroit, Newark, Watts, and other cities. The world seemed to be in hopeless conflict, and I couldn’t see how basic human rights, justice, equality, and peace could ever come to be.

Many others of my generation felt similarly, and it was the birth of movements for nonviolent social change and the possibilities they held that helped us survive. Civil rights workers and peace activists, flower children and feminists, began to grow in numbers (yes, I was among them). The vision we held for a more loving and harmonious planet moved us forward, our hands and hearts joined. Music, speeches, marches. Hope lived in collective actions by thousands against war, racism, sexism, homophobia, and environmental destruction. Over the years, gradual but significant changes took place, even nationally. The end to the Vietnam War. The first African American President and first woman Vice President; a more diverse Congress. Women’s health rights. Voting rights. Martin Luther King Jr. Day; Earth Day. Legalization of gay marriage. Rainbow flags across the country seemed to symbolize the possibility of a diverse and inclusive future for all.

 Yet systemic racism and injustice, misogyny, anti-Semitism, hatred of immigrants, transphobia/homophobia, and the rise of the 1% economic elite continued to grow and become stronger. Right up to the present, when it all burst out into high-profile predominance with the current elected (and non-elected) government and its single-minded focus on power and money. Decades of social change are being battered and broken. Once again I/we are facing hopelessness.

At times like this, we need to remember what lifted our spirits and helped us through in the past. The positive energy that inspired us and encouraged us to continue. In books, articles, speeches, songs, films, meetings, demonstrations—in hundreds of places across the country and around the world, we have been sustained by our individual and collective voices of hope for human freedom, equality, compassion, and love. This is our Survival Kit for Troubled Times.

This past week,  I watched two classic Frank Capra films from the 1930s: You Can’t Take It With You and Mr. Smith Goes to Washington. Both films are quintessential Capra: average citizens pitted against ruthless wealthy businessmen and unscrupulous politicians. They struggle against seemingly impossible odds and yet in the end, “we the people” prevail. Each film is a hopeful vision as well as a cautionary tale. One with relevance today. How many times over the years have people been called to stand up and refuse to relinquish the dream of a just and free world, a heart-centered humanity? Sometimes it seems like a horrible replay that we don’t want to relive, but we came to Earth for exactly this. With each generation, there is a shift, a further awakening into recognizing the basic oneness of everyone and everything, even in the midst of our differences.

We have to remind ourselves that possibility lives within impossibility. In her book A Paradise Built in Hell, Rebecca Solnit writes about groups and communities of caring, support, and mutual aid that have spontaneously arisen within disasters, both natural and human-made. As unlikely as it may seem, when everything falls apart, humans often turn to one another with kindness and generosity and build connections anew within great loss. Such stories belong in our Survival Kits, along with memories of our own strength and resilience, our own optimism in the face of pessimism. Maybe “hell” will begin to recede as our human hearts reach out to each other with hope and resolve. As my friend Heather recently said, “Remember your heart.” Everything we need is within us and among us.