Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for November, 2013

Thanksgiving

Abbphoto

Being an animal lover has so many privileges.  Abby, who you see above, doesn’t just come when I call her, she bounds towards me with all the unfettered zest she can muster in that little Corgi body.

It reminds me how much life is meant to be lived like that, but sometimes we as mature adults have an invisible leash we are tethered to.  Some call it rules, but it can come in many forms – fears, judgments, ideas about the way we are supposed to be.  It’s any thing that holds us back from our original unbridled enthusiasm, which we came in with.

Let’s make a deal, you and me, this holiday season we let go of anything that is holding us back.  Let’s unleash that which waits inside us: the wonder, the awe, the innocence, the eagerness.  She or he waits for you, and does not need the perfect moment to be freed.  There is no perfect moment, there is only … right now.

While they pass the bread and butter around the table this Thanksgiving, pass the robust salt of vitality, the ground pepper of courage, hands outstretched now to grasp the generous bowl of enthusiasm, the moist stuffing of contentment, the warmed casserole of encouragement, now pour over it the glad gravy of ease.

Then rest, be lazy, for there is much life still to be lived on the ‘morrow.
Advertisements

Read Full Post »

36

 

Recently I was gifted an audio of David Whyte’s spoken poetry set to music, and I adored it.  I realized among all the poetry books I own, I had none of his, so I ordered one.  It’s so hard to choose one poem, so I may post more of his poems in the near future.

As I write, Panhala, a poetry group I have subscribed to for years is on sabbatical and it may be permanent, so I may have to fill my cup (and perhaps, yours) with the swell of the human heart spilling out onto these pages.

Inside this sitting here: ---
this mind pulling knees up
           close to the chest
           with tense hands.

Inside this
movement of anxiety for the body
and its worries of money
and its teeth grinning falsely
to the solution of all things surrounding

is the seed
and the hands pressing down into the soil
and the dreams of generation
in the seed about to wake.

Tonight I will sleep with my worries
through dreams dark with soil
and the heavy cataclysm of the spade
turning earth round me
not speaking of air
or light fused with greenness
but of darkness
and the first leaves
like hands in prayer
clasped inside the seed.

~David Whyte~
River Flow: New and Selected Poems
“INSIDE”

Read Full Post »

God’s sovereignty  and The Purpose of Prayer

 

Today I share with you my blessing that I post daily on Facebook, following that excerpts from Illuminata by Marianne Williamson.

Blessings Day 252: yesterday was hard for a number of reasons. Picking up Marianne Williamson’s Illuminata was so helpful. I read aloud to my husband passages in the chapter “Ladders to God”. Then I went upstairs, crossed the threshold of my bedroom to hear my Dad’s watch beep at that exact moment. (Note: my father passed 2.5 years ago.) Dad’s watch beeps on the truth. I’m not always sure I’ve made the right decisions but I’m not walking this path pretending I am alone any more. I am born of the Divine Consciousness of God, the field of infinite possibilities, All That Is, All That Heals, All That Infinitely Loves. May I rest in those pastures, today and every day.

“The issue is not whether our day is easy, but whether we spend it with an open heart.”

“Prayer and meditation reconnect us with our Source. …Just as we used to think that the earth was the center of external power and then found out that the sun is, we have been thinking that man’s ego is the center of internal power, and at last, we’re remembering that God is. …The purpose of prayer is to bring Heaven and earth together.  It gives inner peace in ways that neither intellectual understanding, credentials, money, sex, drugs, houses, clothes nor any gifts of the world can do.  …The intellect gives many things, but ultimately it cannot give comfort.  …Through prayer we find what we cannot find elsewhere; a peace that is not of this world.”

After so many years apart from my Christian and Judaic roots, God doesn’t care why or how I came back, only that I have.

 

Read Full Post »

moonimages

i

Trust is completely paradoxical:

The thing with which to begin when
you have nothing.

The end point, which
somehow you must find first.

The smallest of present moments,
measured haltingly into a past.

Both question and answer, when every
word of your acquaintance has fled.

ii

You think the arc of the horizon
should split, one side jaggedly askew,
one forever gone.

The horizon doesn’t split.
Its edges remain.

You think the ocean should dry to sand because
all the tears it held, you have used up.
You have stolen water even from the clouds.

But the ocean is not dried, nor the clouds
gone, though you have cried them both,
multiplied, and more.

You rub your eyes that grains still ripen,
plums turn blue, still the moon increases.

You thought all of this was gone.
Such is the unimaginable you have lived.
You thought everything was gone.

iii

But,
without your doing, the world is fashioned
in this way: moments
become other moments; steps
lead somewhere; all things breathe,
even without remembering.

One day, after a very long time,
without rubbing your eyes you see
the arc of the horizon still
an arc; the ocean, full.

And you are not betrayed, but glad.

~ Meditations: Nancy Shaffer ~
Instructions in Joy

Read Full Post »

One of my favorite NLP techniques; this post gets lots of attention even three years later.  It is such a mind eye opener and it stops the stories that fuel our suffering “dead in their tracks”!  So powerful, it bears sharing again…

I attended an NLP/Hypnosis meetup this weekend and was introduced to this fabulous new tool that I’ve been dying to pass on to you all.  It’s called — just the facts.  First, bear with me, while I take us on a little side trip to illustrate the power of this process.  You’ve heard of the path of least resistance?  Well, strap yourselves in for a bumpy BUT short ride down the path of *most* resistance, Bethie-style.

I leave the meetup, get in the car and immediately call home, since the plan is to now go home, pick up my daughter and leave for a concert.  Back story is I don’t like to be late and I don’t like to be rushed.  So I’m checking in with my husband on the status of our daughter getting ready, since we have to leave in one hour. Not only does she have to get ready but she has work to be done before we leave.  My husband says that my daughter’s not up yet.  It’s 3 o’clock in the afternoon.  I’m gobsmacked.   I’m telling my husband we’ll never make it on time.  Not only that, I’m saying she often does this, she’s rarely on time lately.  I explain how I’ve been struggling all week with getting her out the door on time for things.  And then I’m thinking, I just know she’ll do a half ass rush job at the work she has to do.  And who sleeps ’til 3pm?   Wait, there’s more … if we don’t get there early, parking will be hard to find, I’ll be stuck in concert traffic, yada, yada, yada.

I hang up the phone.  And then I just said STOP.  For crying out loud, just STOP.  I stop and take a deep breath and remember I just left a meetup.  What did I just learn in the meetup?  I will tell you what I just learned and how I used it.

What actually happened here?  Just the facts.  What are the facts and nothing but the facts, m’am?

FACT: I called home and was told that my daughter is not up yet.

That’s all that happened.  That’s the facts, period.

All that other stuff is just blah, blah, blah.  A story I made starring me and my unwitting daughter and the script went like this — well you heard it all already.  Did any of it serve me or her?  Are they giving out any awards for the one person who can get their panties in a wad quicker than anyone else?  And if they were, would I even want that award?  Well I might, for you know what and giggles, but no, I don’t really want to be the fastest panty wad twister on earth.

Here’s what I want.  Here’s what I always want and that is to feel good and happy and clear.  So I just learned a new tool to do just that.  And I like this even better than Byron Katie’s: is it true? because it just by passes all of that.  I’m still asking a story if it’s true in the BK model.  Why get vested in the story at all, why not separate it out altogether and get down to the bare minimum.  What are the facts?  The rest is all a choice I make to have it mean this or that.

Immediately I realized how this could help a friend who doesn’t really get along with her boss.  Every time she gets an email or a phone call from this boss requesting such and such, she goes right into the story of what that means. And it’s often a story that doesn’t serve her; it’s a story that leaves her feeling less than and wanting to change jobs. So what do you do in that case?  You take the facts only.  Boss calls.  Boss wants to review my document.  Boss has made these changes to my document.

What does it mean?  It means nothing and everything, depending on what you tell yourself about it.  Strip it all down to its bare minimum, just the facts.  Before you, me, we get caught up in the whirlwind of what it all means, just stop, take a deep breath.  Ask yourself: what are the facts?  Look at the facts and decide, choose selectively, mindfully what you want to make of it, if anything at all.  Or choose just for this one moment, choose to have it mean nothing at all.  You can always come back to that subject and plaster it with all the meaning you want, but for now consider halting all the story about what *anything* means.  Feel the pure relief in that.

Thankfully I drove home sans the irritation over potentially being late or rushed because I realized it was all a resistance, filled to the brim, story.  And by the way, we got to the concert, no traffic, found good close parking and had plenty of time to spare.  We had a great conversation standing in line chatting with people we’d never met before but found so many crazy synchronistic things we shared in common, including the names and breeds of our dogs, the names of our kids, it just went on and on.

Things just flow and line up so much easier when I take the time to line up myself.  In my heart, I always want to be in my corner.  In all of our hearts, we all want to be in our own corner, our own good friends.  Just the facts and nothing but the facts, is a great and easy, user friendly tool to use and is definitely a keeper in my tool box.

Read Full Post »

Kintsukuroi

kintsukuroi3

 

I just returned from a healing retreat and was struck by how, as unique and individual we are, so many of us share the same struggle with being hard on ourselves.

I’ve come to find for myself that the only way out of something is actually to move towards it. I posted earlier this year about it in ‘Letting Myself Have’.  The voices of self-criticism don’t need our further rejection, they need our love and acceptance.

Today I share with you kintsukuroi, the art of repairing pottery with gold or silver. The concept of our broken places having made us even more beautiful.

The cracks are the articulation of our journey through life.  The gilding reveals where the inner light, our essence, love, has come to shine through.

May each of us come to savor our own artistic, tender, loving hand at becoming ever more precious.

Japanese Bowl

I’m like one of those Japanese bowls
That were made long ago
I have some cracks in me
They have been filled with gold

That’s what they used back then
When they had a bowl to mend
It did not hide the cracks
It made them shine instead

So now every old scar shows
From every time I broke
And anyone’s eyes can see
I’m not what I used to be

But in a collector’s mind
All of these jagged lines
Make me more beautiful
And worth a much higher price

I’m like one of those Japanese bowls
I was made long ago
I have some cracks you can see
See how they shine of gold

~Peter Mayer

My beloved child, break your heart no longer.

~Bapuji (beloved father of Kripalu yoga)

 

 

Read Full Post »

One Sand Grain

_DSC1202_pi

One Sand Grain Among The Others in Winter Wind

I wake with my hand held over the place of grief in my body.
“Depend on nothing,” the voice advises, but even that is useless.
My ears are useless, my familiar and intimate tongue.
My protecting hand is useless, that wants to hold the single leaf to the tree
and say, Not this one, this one will be saved.

~After: Jane Hirshfield Poems~

Read Full Post »