Featured

The Legacy of George Floyd

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Perhaps when life assignments were being handed out, George Floyd raised his hand for a Save the World mission.  Or perhaps he was simply another unfortunate victim of racism, ignorance, and injustice, in the wrong place at the wrong time.  Either way, his tragic death has given us the profound gift of awakening, and that makes him a hero.

His death sparked the fire of outrage that has blazed across the nation and spread across the world in sympathy and unification.  It has opened our eyes to an awareness that we have a choice about whether we wish to turn to violence, destruction, and fear to make a point, or whether we will join as one and use our voice in peaceful, quiet protest against injustice, to open our eyes to see that there is a better way.  What an amazing contrast.

Last night in Louisville, strangers linked arms and joined as one to create a human shield to protect a lone police officer in danger from angry protesters.  Total strangers, black, white, hispanics, risked their own safety and broke from the crowd to help and protect the “enemy”.   These courageous guardians join George Floyd as heroes.

This demonstration of kindness and humanity by strangers on behalf of another shines light on the fact that there is a chink in the armor of fear that creates an opening through which the light of love may emerge and give rise to an opportunity for the world to see through different eyes.  The light beaming through the crack gives rise to the hope that consciousness is rising, and that soon the tide of protests will turn away from violence toward peace.

Though this man, along with so many others in the past, died needlessly, his death is not without meaning, for it shows us a picture of what a peaceful transformation looks like.  It invites us to hold our government accountable to its citizens for actions and inactions, justice and injustice, to use our voice as one humanity to insist on finding a better way.

Last night in a dream, I observed a man standing knee deep in a lake.  He was staring down at his feet, awed by the sight of a carpet of gold as far as the eye could see glistening beneath him.  Instead of  running off in a frentic search for a bucket and shovel to scoop up the gold, he simply stood quietly enjoying the gift of the beauty that surrounded him.

Perhaps such a dream is nothing more than the figment of a wishful imagination.  Perhaps it represents an exaggerated version of the new world that we are hearing so much about these days.  I like to think of it as a picture of where we are going.  I like to hope that we are on our way to living the dream of a new world in which the reasons for protests over injustice no longer exist, where peace and harmony rule the day,  I like to think that the senseless death of this man is the catalyst that will move us toward that day.

The greater our ability to focus on the goodness and beauty surrounding us, the greater our awareness that we are capable of choosing our future.  The legacy of George Floyd’s sacrifice gives new meaning and purpose to the importance of our decisions that we make, and open our eyes to our choices.

The world needs hope.  Please spread the legacy, share on Facebook, retweet, pass along to friends, send love and light to help stamp out fear.

To resurrect a mantra from the 60’s, make love, not war.

Feasts and Fasts

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A couple of days ago—oops—I forgot to write a blog.  Yesterday’s was published very late in the day instead of at the beginning, and amazingly enough, I didn’t die from it—I’m still here to tell the tale.  Wahoo!   In fact, it was rather refreshing to allow myself the luxury of getting up and out of my self-created hot seat to wander around in the sunshine and breathe a little.  I successfully said no thank you to the finger-wagging shame-on-you guilt trip that my ego tried to lay on me about copping out on my commitment and away I went.  That’s progress, I’d say.

A little aimless meandering once in a while is good for the soul.  It is like opening the windows in a dark and stuffy room to allow fresh air and light to flood in and evaporate the gloom, to cleanse, refresh and restore old, worn out thinking that doesn’t’ work anymore, to make room for the new.  Sometimes when I’m stuck somewhere in the middle of a conundrum, I take a little time out.  When it’s just a writing quagmire, it might be a quick trip to the loo for some bathroom wisdom.  A bigger issue, on the other hand, may require an extended period of time that includes complete radio silence.

What I love about a good time out is that it frees me from hearing the noisy voices and opinions of others and provides a moment in which I can hear the quiet wisdom of my own.  It gives me precious time to sit, sift and sort through confusion and complexity and decide what is worth keeping, what should be expelled.  When the mind and heart are cleared of the dross that clogs insight, resolution springs forth, mental clarity shines through, and peace returns.  It’s a place to rest, stop, look, listen, reevaluate, and invite inner wisdom to be the guide.  It’s both a spiritual fast and feast all at once.  Answers reside in the silence.

Hmm.  When I first started writing, I thought that there might be something related to the subjects of compassion, empathy, and sensitivity to others, but for some reason, that thought evaporated along with the gloom that disappears in the light of an open window.  Well, maybe tomorrow.

So that’s it for today, folks.  For now, I’m going back inside to continue my time out, enjoy the view from my soul, and hang out in radio silence for a while longer.  See you tomorrow.  I think.

Note:  The photo above is courtesy of New Waves of Light, a website designed by anonymous individuals around the world who share the intention of bringing light and love to a world of darkness and chaos. (newwavesoflight.org or NWOL.us).

Getting a Grip

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Yesterday, when I went to fetch a copy of the blog du jour from the jaws of the printer, it wasn’t there.  Wait—where is it?  Didn’t I print it out?  Then I remembered—oops I forgot to write it.  After three months of perfect attendance, I forgot?  Really?  That can’t be good.

If you’ve been following along recently, you may remember reading that life in my lane has presented me with another marvelous opportunity to get over myself, learn another new lesson or two, and take the next step forward on the personal growth path. I make a wish for—oh, I don’t know—whatever floats my boat, and suddenly shazam—like magic, whoosh—here we go again off on another merry round of learning.  Watch what you wish for.

This time, it’s like someone came along and uttered one simple little sentence that pushed the plunger that exploded the dynamite that blew the cover off my foxhole that exposed me to the dirt that has lurked beneath the surface that tormented me for eons.  Whoa.  Scary.  I think I still must have a whole lot to learn.  At this point, I can’t say for sure how I’m doing, but every once in a while I catch a brief glimmer of hope.

I think that maybe the extended days of COVID restrictions are making us all a little crazy.  What started as a kind of interesting fun little extended recess at home moment has morphed into the realization that frustration has replaced fun, and that we will be socially distancing and wearing our masks for a v-e-r-y long time.  Our recess has gifted us with  frustration, exposing frayed nerves and tests of patience.  We are chomping at the bit to get back to the beaches, eat in restaurants, swim in pools, and return to our fitness centers.  Now, more than ever, we want and need physical activity to dissolve the stress and the frustration of the limitations placed upon us.  I have lost control of certain aspects of my life and now, crankiness has replaced civility.   It is disturbing to watch as I try to wrestle my selfishness into the willingness to come to grips with my inability to have what I want when I want it.  No wonder I still have lessons to learn.

Uh oh, watch out everybody.  It looks like she is going to smack us with another cheery little lecturette again.  Always on a rainbow unicorn toot–love everybody, forgive everything, look for the good, blah blah blah.  Yep.  Preaching to myself, mostly.  I guess I won’t get it until I get it.  The good news, though, is that at least I know I will get around to listening to the smart Voice in my own head eventually.  Maybe someday I might even pay attention.

The only thing I know for sure is that I’ve finished today’s blog—or is this yesterday’s blog today?   I am brimming with the hope that I’ll ace this pesky marvelous growth opportunity soon.  Soon, soon, soon.  The current curriculum is pretty intense, but I’m not dropping out.  I’m going to stick in there no matter what, watch intently to see what unfolds next, and remember that tomorrow is another day and another blog.

Note:  The photo above is courtesy of New Waves of Light, a website designed by anonymous individuals around the world who share the intention of bringing light and love to a world of darkness and chaos. (newwavesoflight.org or NWOL.us).

The Lone Rainbow

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This morning I opened an email that sent me straight up and out of my Lazygirl off into the heat and humidity to have a walk through the wilds of the neighborhood and a little talk with myself in the hope of getting my head straight and finding a bit peace and serenity along the way.

Trust the good old Universe to present the perfect opportunity to learn a lesson at just the right time.  Heap it on, I say.  Let’s see how much I can take before it all crashes down around my shoulders and crushes the life out of me.  Okay, so the pedal is to the metal.  Can I put my money where my mouth is and practice what I preach?  Good question, I say to myself, as I try to claw my way through the clutter of my mind in search of a bit of daylight.  It’s all well and good to carry on like the rainbow unicorn that I like to pretend that I am, but are unicorns really real?  Is this another test?

I walk to the lake and park myself on a shady bench to meditate and cogitate for a while in hopes of getting what I came for.  I watch as my mind bounces me up and down like a yoyo traveling at warp speed.  It’s all too much to sort through.  Too many twists and turns, too many complications and complexities, too many emotions coming from too many directions, too much at stake, too many possible outcomes, not all of them good.

I hear a slight splash that calls my attention to the water’s surface and watch as ripples spread in concentric circles from the point of center.  It dawns on me that my thoughts and feelings spread out from my own point of center and wash over everything and everyone within range, and that the range is infinite.

There is something within me that wants to hang on to anger and gnaw on it like a Doberman with a juicy bone, to not let go until I’ve sucked the essence out of it.  A saying from Eckhart Tolle flashes across my mind:  Sometimes letting things go is a far greater power than defending or hanging on.  Now if I could just convince my mind about that.  Would that I could just practice what I preach about the power of the mind.  It isn’t easy, but at least it’s a goal.  Goals count for something.

So I have another talk with myself between the yoyo bounces and try to talk myself into shifting gears from anger into forgiveness.   I try to remember that the ripples aren’t mine alone, but that they reach into infinity and therefore affect everyone else in their path, even those who are innocent bystanders.

This morning’s ripple effect reminds me that thoughts matter and that what I choose to think makes a difference.  In my quest for peace, I realize that it’s a lonely endeavor, an inside job.  No one can hand it to me; I have to find it within myself.  It looks as if I’ve fallen a little short of passing the test today.  I haven’t made it to total forgiveness yet but I’m working on it—maybe tomorrow.  Like yesterday’s pony in the manure, somewhere, there’s a rainbow, and I’ll find it eventually.  After all, what’s a unicorn without the rainbow?

Where’s the Pony?

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Have you ever acted on an idea that seemed like a perfect solution to a dilemma only to watch it crash and burn before it ever got off the ground?  It seemed like an inspired idea at the time, but perhaps I was delusional, or maybe I was listening to that sneaky voice of the ego that loves to have me think that it’s a whole lot smarter than the part of me that is really smart.

What would be really smart would be making the sincere effort to find out more about who the really smart one is and pay more attention to it.  The thing is, I really thought that I had.

I suppose I could consider that I lost the battle, but in retrospect, I can see that nothing is ever lost.  Every apparent defeat brings with it the inherent opportunity to review the situation and find the benefit within it.  On one hand, it may be tempting to consider rejection as a failure and allow it to be the spark that ignites the flame of self-doubt, extinguishing any hope of a happy ending.  On the other, it offers an opportunity to seek and find another path to accomplish the same end, perhaps one that is even better than the first.  There’s always good news, even amidst what seems to be the bad.  Rejection is just a divine spark that lights the fire of renewed effort.

When caught in the middle of a battlefield of opinion, sometimes the best that one can do is observe the fray and hold the vision that at some point, opponents will see the light of day, put down their weapons, and enjoy a peaceful resolution that is for the common good to all.

I am reminded of the enthusiastic kid waist deep in horse manure digging through the muck looking for the pony.  I love that kid.  He just goes for it, doesn’t care how messy it gets, and hangs on to the idea that in the end he’s going to find what he wants the most.  I want to be just like him when I grow up.

In a world full of manure, I’m going for the ponies.

There is a way.  There is always a way.  We just need to find it.

Note:  The photo above is courtesy of New Waves of Light, a website designed by anonymous individuals around the world who share the intention of bringing light and love to a world of darkness and chaos. (newwavesoflight.org or NWOL.us).

Kumbaya

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The We Are the World blog Link was about a conflict between the Board of Directors and the residents, current front page news in the condo where I live.  It gives me comfort to know that our problems pale in comparison to others.  I’m told that in Florida there is barely a day that goes by without a news article outlining the ugly details of lawsuits between condo boards and residents.  Heaven forbid we ever come close to such an extreme.  Not on my watch.

A friend in our building who regularly reads Voices suggested that my kumbaya approach to problem solving is all very nice, but it doesn’t fix anything.  Perhaps so.  It is true that many blogs of the past few months end with kumbaya, the plea for unity, harmony, and peace in the world.  There’s nothing wrong with a little kumbaya here and there.  It’s good for the soul.

But she does have a point.  How do we build a bridge from the idyllic dream of utopia across the broad expanse of disharmony and discontent to the safety on the other side?  How do we move from kumbaya into practicality?  I don’t have a clue what the experts might say—if in fact there are any—but in my world, it begins with an open mind, willingness, desire, and intention.   Anything less and the bridge will be nothing more than a failed attempt ending in collapse.  Everything begins in the mind first and becomes manifest through action taken out of imagination.  The first step is to approach the problem with the intention of finding a solution, a sincere willingness to address it head on with an open mind, and a true desire to create an outcome that satisfies all parties involved.  Kumbaya.

How many times have I chosen to launch into my ostrich act and stick my head in the sand rather than to a face a difficult problem?  All too often.  Where does it get me?  Deeper in the sand.  It takes great courage to muster up the inner gumption to look fear in the eye and take a risk.  But courage is the foundation, and communication is the superstructure that will build the bridge that takes us safely across the chasm to the other side, where unity, harmony, and peace await in the idyllic land of utopia.  Or Camelot.  Your choice.  You dream it, you intend it, you decide where you want to live.  It’s all in the attitude.

So my friends, neighbors, and fellow travelers on the pathway of life, I bid you well.  I pray you dream happy dreams of life as the way you would like it to be, I pray that when you are ready, you will effortlessly and easily manifest a life of your choosing.  If we all work together, we can build the bridge and reach the safety of the other side.  Kumbaya.

Note:  The photo above is courtesy of New Waves of Light, a website designed by anonymous individuals around the world who share the intention of bringing light and love to a world of darkness and chaos. (newwavesoflight.org or NWOL.us).

In the Soup

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When I woke up today I felt as if my mind was swimming around in a bowl of alphabet soup in desperate search of a way to line the letters up in correct order.  So much going on, so much to do, so much to think about, plan for, deal with.   The soup is swallowing me.  It’s supposed to be the other way around.

I park my buns in the Lazygirl and prepare to tackle it all, but I can’t figure out where to start.  The pen wins and I pick up my journal to try to sort through the soup.  I begin with a little chat with my muse.  “I want it to be easy.  I want it to be quick.  I have things to do.  I don’t want to sit here for half a day slogging my way through a blog.  I’m drowning in the soup.  Can you make it easy today please?”

And my muse responds.  “Yes, we can.  We anticipated your wish and are well prepared with an answer BUT, we already hear doubt creep into in your head.  “Really?  Are you sure?  Am I going to have to sit here until lunchtime before I’m finished?”

I watch myself as I pick up my phone to do a quick text unrelated to anything.  I watch as I take a minute to check the weather to see if it’s a good day for a walk.  I watch as my mind wanders off into next week’s agenda; I’m still in the soup.

I reach for the laptop to begin the blog du jour and hesitate.  Wait.  Maybe I should meditate first.  I should meditate first before I do anything.  Meditation lines up the letters in the soup.  But why do I keep forgetting that?  Why do I not do it every morning?  Because meditation is on the do list, like exercise, eat healthier, and get organized.  It’s a whole lot harder to do than it is to not do, like not smoke, not drink wine, not watch TV.

So I put down the pen, leave the computer where it is, and opt for meditation.   I close my eyes and watch my mind as impatience tries to lure me into further distraction.  The soup swirls around in my mind, catawampus letters threaten to choke the life out of me, until finally, I see that I can order the letters to settle down and get themselves together.  Ah.  Quiet stillness and the return of sanity.  I can relax into the day, because the race for completion within the confines of time is unnecessary.  Everything will be done.  Everything is in good order, including my mind.

When will I get it?  When will I remember to quit diving headfirst into the soup before taking the time to float gently in stillness of my Soul for a while?

Thank you my Muse for proving me wrong, for showing me that when I am willing to sit still long enough to listen, all that I need will be provided, all I ask for will be given.  Wonder of wonders—it’s 8:30 am.  Today it was easy.  What more proof do I need than that?

Note:  The photo above is courtesy of New Waves of Light, a website designed by anonymous individuals around the world who share the intention of bringing light and love to a world of darkness and chaos. (newwavesoflight.org or NWOL.us).

We Are the World

 

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This morning I was rudely awakened and jostled out of my peaceful reverie by the memory that there is trouble brewing right here in River City.  In the condo building where I live, we are caught in the middle of a conflict between a board of directors working in the best interests of the community it serves, and a community that is up in arms because of the decisions made by the board of directors working to serve its best interests.  It’s a conundrum.

Lucky me.  I’m in the middle of it all, teetering on the fence between the two, on one side as a member of the board and on the other, a close friend of the disenfranchised.  I’m jammed between a rock and a hard place, between duty, responsibility and friends in a place where everybody knows everybody’s name.

Past experience brings to mind the painful memory of a meeting populated with a large group of residents, peppered with a handful of dissatisfied members whose frustration erupts in bursts of anger and spews forth behavior that borders on abusive toward the board members that serve them on a volunteer basis.

For all the world, it feels as if I’m living a personal mini version of what’s going on in the world. The masses balking at authority, rules, reason, and wisdom—kids going to the bars and beaches, the refusal to wear masks as modeled by the president, the insistence on the entitlement of rights, the resulting anger, protests, and divisiveness.  The hang the consequences I want what I want gang.  This is the world.  It is not us.

As I think about the situation, sometimes I feel helpless in the face of it all.  What can I do to help restore peace and harmony?   In the midst of my musings, my computer pings, signaling the arrival of another email in the growing thread surrounding the situation.  This one appears to have been Divinely inspired, a voice of reason, bringing with it a sense that all is not lost, there is hope, there is a plan of peace within reach, there is a solution, and that if only we will get ourselves out of the way long enough to stop and listen, we will find it.

Yet again I see before us another wonderful opportunity to use the power of our minds and the quiet of our hearts to bring healing to our community.  We can either continue to hold on to the anger that fuels discontent, or we can decide to set aside the insistent voice of the personality and invite peace and harmony to rule the day instead.  We are a microcosm of the world.  What we do within our own minds and our own walls ripples out and affects the entire world.

Personally, as a member of the board and humanity, and as a friend and neighbor, my vote goes in favor of peaceful coexistence, the end of strife, a vote for love.  One world, one humanity.  It’s ours to live as we wish.  We have the power.  What’s your vote?

Note:  The photo above is courtesy of New Waves of Light, a website designed by anonymous individuals around the world who share the intention of bringing light and love to a world of darkness and chaos. (newwavesoflight.org or NWOL.us).

The Activist Hat – Again

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After a lengthy discussion with a 50-something friend who is mightily concerned about the state of the world, I see that it’s time to don my activist hat again.  The depth of her fear about the future sent me into a depth of my own fear about the power of fear, and how much of it there in the world.  It was an eye opener, a reminder that the best I can do for the world right now is to keep my head on straight, not allow darkness to take over my life, and urge one and all to wake up and see the light.  On with the hat.

When I sit all smug and cozy with coffee in hand and feet up in my Lazygirl, it’s easy to believe that all is well in the world.  But what about everyone else?  What about the heartbreaking closed sign on the doors of my favorite Nordstrom where I worked when I was 50-something?  What about the folks who wonder how they will feed their families, or if their kids will be shot in their beds, or if they’ll be done in by a virus?

In yesterday’s conversation, my friend expressed her deep concern about the future of our economy and about what would happen after the election.   From her perspective, I could see that things indeed looked very dark, very depressing, and very bleak.  Seeing the depth of her fear was what sparked my own.  If her thinking is representative of a large majority of the population—and I think that it may be— we are in big trouble.

Our chat reminded me to remind myself and anyone else within reading distance or earshot that we must change our vision, we must change our minds, we must rearrange our thinking, we must change our focus, because if we don’t, the power of our own minds will indeed create the very thing that we fear the most.

To build a new and better world, we need to we shift our thinking away from the horrific “what if” possibilities of decay and destruction and adopt a new belief system, one that embodies everything that we want, and nothing that we don’t.   Yes, this is easier said than done, particularly when we face so much negativity on a daily basis, when we are forcefed nasty news by the media, and when it appears for all the world that there is no hope.  It heightens the need for us to work harder.

There is hope.  It lies within the heart and soul of each and every single one of us.  We each bear the responsibility for snatching our world away from the clutches of the evil dark forces of the powerful and greedy, and put the power back where it belongs—into our own hands.  But it requires all hands to do the job.

Yes, our world is in a miserable state of decay.  But it is a necessary part of the evolutionary process that will make space for us to recreate something better, a hospitable, sustainable environment.  It is all part of a Divinely orchestrated plan that is for our benefit.  Together, we can do it—and we need all hands, all hearts, all minds, all souls on deck.  A future built on fear is destined to collapse, but love will sustain us for eternity.  Build on love, not fear.

Note:  The photo above is courtesy of New Waves of Light, a website designed by anonymous individuals around the world who share the intention of bringing light and love to a world of darkness and chaos. (newwavesoflight.org or NWOL.us).

Grace Under Pressure

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Writing yesterday’s blog was hard, like trying to pour caramel sauce over ice cream in an igloo.  Today, I’m telling myself that it’s going to be easy.  I’m going to just make up my mind that writing today will be a breeze, ideas will flow, words will pour forth and fill up the blank space of my computer screen like gently nuked caramel sauce on a warm summer’s day.  Well, that’s what I’m telling myself.  Whether it works or not is another story.  I’ll just have to wait to see how long it takes me to get to the finish line today.  It will be a test of how well telling myself what to do works.  I can be pretty bossy sometimes, so maybe there’s hope.

Today has to be easy, because this morning I suddenly realized that in addition to writing Voices, the monthly newsletter that I publish monthly for my condo building is due tomorrow, and somewhere in between that, there’s a lengthy board meeting.  Well, now there you go—a cause for panic if ever there was one.  But no.  I’m not giving in to panic.  I’m going for grace under pressure.

I’m not sure yet what the theme of the day is, but it might be procrastination, or faith, or doing my best work under pressure, or perfection, or check all of the above.  I’m experienced in all.  I guess it’s a little like making my way through life—I’m not always sure where I’m going, but it’s a pretty darned good bet that if I have a set destination, I’ll get there eventually.   Oh, there may be a few futile side trips along the way, but there is value in everything, even the wrong turns.

One thing I’ve learned along the way is that if something is hard, I might be headed in the wrong direction.  If I set my feet upon a path that is not in my best interest and find obstacles at every turn, it may be a warning that I’m headed for disaster.  I once observed as a friend launched into a dogged effort to fight the obstacles that were thrown in her way in her attempt to facilitate the purchase of a business for her husband.  Her struggle was rewarded with a resounding failure.  Had it been right, the road would have been smooth.  We need to listen to the whispers.

Wow!  I told myself it would be easy and apparently, I listened.  I’ve passed the finish line with hours to spare, the hair on my head is still intact, and there is still coffee left in my mug.  Maybe I’ve turned a corner—I hope so.  Maybe it’s because I exchanged hard for easy, or because my new mission of spirit guide communication is working, even after only two days of practice.  Whatever the reason, however it happened, I am truly grateful.  May it be a harbinger of things yet to come.  Grace under pressure.  I’ll take all I can get.  Grace, not pressure, thank you very much.

Note:  The photo above is courtesy of New Waves of Light, a website designed by anonymous individuals around the world who share the intention of bringing light and love to a world of darkness and chaos. (newwavesoflight.org or NWOL.us).

Dissecting the Voices

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Today is a start-stop-stuck blog writing day, definitely not one of my more shining moments.  In truth, I’m making myself crazy.  It may have to do with my latest mission of trying to enhance my communication skills with spiritual guidance.  I’ve had lots of practice, but apparently there is still much to be learned, because messages are garbled.  Especially today.

My current assignment is to speak to my guides out loud.  I’m working on it, though I must admit, it’s a strange sort feeling, one that is a whole lot different from hiding out in my head speaking in whispers.  It feels weird, like emerging from a dark closet buck naked into the spotlight on the stage of an auditorium full of people.  Whoa.  It gives new meaning to coming out into the light.

The morning is marching on by while today’s blogs sits on stall.  A myriad of thoughts pass through my head—I want to quit now, why is this so hard, what am I supposed to be writing, why isn’t it easy, I want it to be easy, where is the clarity, why am I doing this, when can I stop?

Jumbled confusion reigns in my head and expresses itself in words on my screen.   It occurs to me that this muddle presents the perfect picture of what it’s like to try to sort through the myriad of voices that float around in my mind.  I have just spent the last hour presiding over a plethora of unproductive thoughts.  In desperation, I finally gave up and headed for the kitchen for some breakfast and a little clarity.  What is the matter with me, I ask myself.  Why can’t I sit down, focus, write, and finish something that I really, really want to finish?

That’s when it hit me.  I’ve just wasted an hour of precious time in ego mode allowing self-doubt to stop me in my tracks.  I’m too hard on myself.  When I’m too hard on myself, joy goes out the window.  When joy goes out the window, it takes inspiration with it.  Ah.  A bit of fresh air wafting in through the window of my soul, a bit of kitchen clarity to redirect my thinking back to sanity.

Well now, there you have it.  The stark contrast between the screaming voice of the ego and the gentle, small Voice of the Soul.

Is there a point here, and if so, did I get it across?  Maybe, maybe not.  Maybe it’s not for me to judge, but rather to allow myself the luxury of learning to place my faith and trust in the wisdom and gentle guidance that comes when I am willing to apply myself to the task of listening to a Voice that knows more than I do, that unfailingly has my best interest at heart.

Note:  The photo above is courtesy of New Waves of Light, a website designed by anonymous individuals around the world who share the intention of bringing light and love to a world of darkness and chaos. (newwavesoflight.org or NWOL.us).