Don’t Look Now, but . . .

I’ve been off dumpster diving in old files again. I am often surprised to find bits and pieces of myself wallowing around in the trash bin, waiting to be rediscovered and reevaluated. Today, for instance I stumbled upon something I wrote a decade ago, on January 13, 2012. It’s an unwitting prelude to my most recent blog Link about New Year resolutions written just one week ago. It’s eye-opening to find myself lurking around somewhere in the past—a reminder of who I was in 2012, and who I am now, one decade later. The following was me then . . .

It’s a mighty good thing that I made a resolution to not make resolutions a while back, because if I hadn’t, I’d have disappointed myself many times over by breaking them many times over. When I think of the mind-boggling multitude of resolution possibilities that I could have made and didn’t, my eyes glaze over and I give thanks for whatever powers-that-be for snatching me out of the probable abyss of temporary insanity teetering on the brink of permanence. My decision to eschew resolutions is the wisest resolution I’ve made in this, or any other lifetime.

Just think of it. The do’s. The don’ts. Write more, eat less. Exercise more, spend less. Cook more, eat out less. Meditate more, judge less. It’s mind numbing. And guilt producing.

The other day I found myself feeling just a slight bit irritated for having allowed myself to wander away from the path of joyful inner peace.  Was it non-resolutionary guilt, I wondered? I caught myself singing the Whiffenpoof song.

We’re poor little lambs who have lost our way …  little black sheep who have gone astray … bah, bah, bah … doomed from here to eternity …  Lord have mercy on such as we—blah blah blah.

Really? Do I really think that of myself? The very thought of such a thing sent me off into another conversation with myself.

I’m on a downhill slide.

No, you’re not. You just think you are.

I can’t seem to get myself turned around.

You just think that you can’t. You can.

I know. But I’m stuck

No you’re not.

Why do you keep denying my feelings?

Because you’re wrong.

But if I feel this way, then I feel this way.  And you’re telling me that I don’t.

You may feel the way you feel, but it is a denial of the truth of who you are. 

Oh. I think I get it. I’m putting emPHAsis on the wrong sylLABle—again.

Exactly. You are putting the emphasis on the false ego self that you think you are. 

Fine. That’s all well and good, but I’m still stuck.

. . . And here I am now, a decade later, and happily, I’m unstuck—thanks in part, at least, to some unlikely help; a pandemic and a mishap became the catalysts that pushed me closer to the achievement of the goals I had not actually set.

Between Covid and a broken kneecap, I cook more and eat out less. Physical therapy requires exercise whether I like it or not, and when confined to the Lazygirl for days, and weeks on end, writing and meditation have become my best friends and favorite allies. Clearly, there is something to be said for a pandemic and broken kneecap. The best bonus? During my forced confinement, I wrote and published a second book after a 17-year hiatus. There are blessings in everything, if one but seeks to find.

Isn’t it strange how non-goals of years gone by became reality while I wasn’t looking? Sometimes the progress we’ve made is only visible when viewed through the lens of decades past. The True Self knows the desires of the heart, even if we don’t. All we need to do is drop the judgment we hold of ourselves and learn to trust that we will be given the answers to questions that we may not yet have asked. What we cannot do for ourselves, Higher Forces can do for us. What a blessing!

Happy New Year. Happy New Decade. May you look back upon all of your decades with satisfaction, gratitude and joy. What could be better 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)

PS: I wouldn’t be true to myself if I didn’t make at least one tiny little stab at the dreaded self-promotion. It’s my most unfavorite thing to do, but successful authors everywhere say that it must be done, so I’ll do it. Bah, bah, bah. If you’d like to have a look at my new book, please press here. Thank you!

 

It’s Never Too Late

In the infancy of a new year, there is always a lot of talk about goals, have you noticed? I  flunked out of Goal-Setting 101 long ago once I realized that in my world, goals are a lost cause. I don’t know about you, but lost causes are not good for my self-esteem.

Yesterday I watched myself slide through the day substituting small, mundane tasks for the big ones that make me truly happy—the ones that move me one step closer to the achievement of my desires. Sometimes it feels like a gigantic accomplishment just to finish a nagging little job that gets shifted from one day to the next, but those mini accomplishments don’t bring much joy at the end of the day when my head hits the pillow. Mostly, they’re just con jobs that I pull on myself to make me think that I’ve accomplished something really worthwhile.

My wise mother lived by the philosophy that she had wasted a day if she did not complete at least one task that she would not ordinarily do in the space of one day. For her that could be polishing the silver, or letting a hem down for a growing daughter. For me, it might be writing a blog, or taking one step in the direction of the shameless promotion of my new book, Voices: Who’s in Charge of the Committee in My Head?

To all appearances, yesterday’s activities (or lack thereof) didn’t exactly catapult me any closer to the achievement of my heart’s desires, but they did at least regenerate an interest in revisiting what those desires are. That may not be much, but at least it’s a start.

By the way, if you happen to be a member of the senior set like me, it might help to remember that we’re never too old to dream. Grandma Moses started her career as an artist in her 70’s. My mother married the love of her life when they were both in their 80’s and soon after, they sailed off into the sunset on a European honeymoon leaving the rest of us in the wake of their joy. My joy came last year when, in my 80’s, I published a second book—18 years after the first. It’s never too late to start something new.

But that was then, and this is now, and what will I do today to make my head happy when it hits the pillow tonight? How about if I write a blog? Or maybe do a bit of book promotion? Oh no! That’s the part that makes me want to stick my head back into the sand. My head prefers a pillow.

Well, today I wrote a blog, and maybe even snuck a teensy bit of book promotion into the mix. I’d say that I killed two-birds with one stone, but since I would not feel good about dusting off a couple of innocent birds, I’ll just say that I checked a couple of to-do’s off my list that hadn’t even made it onto the list.

Ah. My head and I will rest happily tonight.

Now, I’d like to ask you a question. If you were to do just one thing today that would make you happy tomorrow, what would that be? I’d really like to hear your thoughts about that! If you feel so inclined, please share in the comments section.

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)

P.S. If you’d like to have a look at my new book, please press here. I’m not sure if I’ve aced Links 101 yet, but if not, you may need to click twice.  There’s always something new to learn—at any age, right?

Hopes, Dreams, and Expectations

Okay, I confess—I am a little disappointed—a rather uncharacteristic feeling in the face of my usual Pollyanna worldview. Life on my planet is bass-ackwards. I recognize, of course, that my mild disappointment is but a drop in the ocean compared to current world events, but still—it’s my drop, my ocean, my planet. So in the overall scheme of things, my mini-discouragement doesn’t really matter very much, does it? Or does it?

So I ask myself—what is the source of this momentary dismay?

Well, my follow-up appointment on the status of my shattered patella dashed any hope of being sprung from the cumbersome knee mobilizer that I’ve been sleeping with and dragging around behind my walker for the past six weeks. Instead, I was sentenced to another six weeks of same old-same old. Bummer. The good news is that healing is much better than expected, surgery is off the table, and physical therapy can begin next week. Focus on the donut, Julia—not the hole.

Then, the dream of soaring sales of my newly released book, Voices: Who’s in Charge of the Committee in My Head, is—for the moment at least —nothing more than a mere pipe dream, but hope springs eternal. Perhaps reality manifests only when it receives a little help from the dreamer.

At the onset of my first six-week sentence in the Lazygirl, I had high hopes for a miraculous transformation from flawed human persona to heavenly angel with ginormous wings. Apparently, I slept through the first opportunity, so I have been given a second chance. That’s the thing with us humans, I figure. We are given endless second chances and opportunities to move ahead on our way toward miraculous transformation until we figure out how to get it right.

Some of us are simply slow learners. Well, I hope I get it right this time around so that I can be sprung from my knee trap and released back into the wild abandon that lives behind the wheel of my car. Meanwhile, I’ll do my best to do my best. I’ll attend to business, write blogs, dream dreams of healed knees and soaring book sales, and cross stuff off of my list of things to do—all the stuff that I promised myself I’d do during the first six weeks, but didn’t. Man, is that ever a long list.

Well, at least these are the things that I say I will do. But will I? Ah—therein lies the question. Can I be trusted to keep the promises that I make to myself? Have I followed up on my hopes and dreams in the past? If I fail to live up to my own expectations, will I become my own judge and jury, or will I simply become an observer and say, “Huh. Well would you look at that? Maybe there’s a better way to do it in the the next round.”

So again, my inner voice (the noisy one) launches into overdrive with questions that seem to defy answers. Does my disappointment really matter in the overall scheme of things? Do my thoughts and feelings make a difference in the world? Do my hopes, dreams, and expectations have an impact on my life, or on the lives of others? Where is the quiet Voice of Reason that has answers to these mysterious questions when I need It?

Oh, We are here, patiently awaiting your realization that you have wandered away for a spell. We know that you are aware of your wanderings, and that you have allowed distractions to lure you away from your inner being; We know that you feel as if you have disappointed yourself yet again. Your discouragement comes not from outer circumstances, but from within the part of you that yearns to reunite with your True Self. Your salvation will come when you realize that the only way for you to be sprung (to use your word) back into freedom is to reaffirm your commitment to doing those things which you know are in your own best interests, and in the best interests of the world.

In your wanderings, you have temporarily lost sight of your mission and purpose. We encourage you to reignite the flame of expectancy. So dear one, hope your hopes, and dream your dreams, and know that the power and energy of your True Self will fuel their manifestation. Coupled with faith, you cannot fail.  

Know that We love and support you; We stand behind you always; We are ever ready to be the wind beneath your wings as your soar toward the highest and best within yourself. You have as many opportunities as you will ever need to realize your True Self, and we joyfully await your arrival at the ultimate destination of the Soul.

Thank you, dear Friends, for helping me to reconnect with my Self. As I do so, it suddenly occurs to me that my one drop in the ocean does indeed affect the entire ocean. Meanwhile, should I become lost amidst the waves again, I trust that you will come and find me.

If the focus of my mind becomes the reality of my world, then what is it that I wish to manifest? Well for starters, how about an ocean of love?

That sounds like a mighty good place to start, right?

And by the way, I am happy to report that as I come to the end of a newly-written blog, yesterday’s disappointment has morphed into today’s gratitude for second chances. Six more weeks to manifest hopes and dreams. Hallelujah. Ground hog day lives on!

A final note from a reluctant author: self-promotion is the bane of this writer’s existence, but I’m going to do it anyway. After all, how else will hopes and dreams become reality if I’m afraid to give them a little push? So, here goes folks: Please check out my book on Amazon. Voices: Who’s in Charge of the Committee in My Head? For more information, see Something New is on the Way (October 31, 2021). I thank you so much!

 Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

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)

 

Disorderly Conduct

Today as I wandered around in my disorderly computer files trying to clean out the messes that I have left behind myself over the years, I stumbled upon stuff that I wrote eons ago—stuff that never saw the light of day, stuff that just sits there awaiting some sort of acknowledgement, destination, or deletion. As I look back, these dusty little gems show me where I was then, and where I am now. Today’s discovery, written sometime prior to 2009 is a fine example of my escape from self-terrorism into the happy realm of loving my perfectly imperfect self. Here it is:

I think I am suffering from seasonal hair disorder. You know – the winter blah kind of thing that would make my hair look as if I stuck a finger in a light socket with the electricity turned on?

Not only that, but I have a sneaking suspicion that in an effort to seek good company, the hair disorder gremlins have sent out some clever little scouts that have obligingly returned with the discovery of a personality disorder to add to my list of seasonal dysfunctions.

The hair situation is only a temporary thing, thank goodness, but the personality disorder thing—well, sometimes I think it will never end. Just as I think I have one aspect of myself in order, another flares up to remind me of my imperfection. My current favorites are foot-in-mouth disease, and bad judgment.

On the growing number of occasions when I suffer flare-ups of one disorder or another, my first tendency is to immediately send myself into bouts of self-flagellation in an attempt to beat myself back into my own good graces. This is not a technique that I would recommend to anyone who is trying to make the return trip to sanity.

Once I discover the futility of self-flagellation, I move on to rationalization. “Well, it really wasn’t that bad, was it? I think he’s over reacting just a wee bit. Obviously she misunderstood what I said. If she had been paying closer attention, it wouldn’t have happened at all, right”

The next response to my faux pas is the questioning phase. Why in Heaven’s name did I say such a thing? It just squirted out of my mouth like Ketchup out of a bottle that’s been slapped on the bottom 57 times. I can’t believe I did such a thing. How could I have been so thoughtless?

Oh, my poor aching psyche!

Behavior is not who I am. Bad behavior, good behavior, not who I am. Sometimes I’m the good witch and sometimes I’m the bad witch. I’m the whole witch, both good and bad. Maybe when I learn to love and respect the entirety of myself, I can say goodbye to my disorders. Well, the personality one, at least. The hair disorder may be around for as long as there are winters in my life.

What troubles me about all of this disorder business is that it seems to be happening more frequently. It’s as if the message is becoming more and more urgent. GET IT TOGETHER GIRL! Maybe I’d better pay attention and listen up.

Maybe it’s all that unhealed anger that’s been roiling around inside of me. Maybe I’d better get busy and start tending to myself because if I don’t, those embarrassing foot-in-mouth moments will show up more and more often.

I actually know people who don’t suffer from any of these annoyances. They just don’t get it. “Stop beating up on yourself,” they say. Or, “You’re being a little hard on yourself, don’t you think?” I spoke to such a person over onion soup and a chicken wrap just yesterday. Apparently, some folks simply cannot relate to those of us who haven’t mastered Self-Love 101 yet.

Contrarily, I also know people just like me. The self-flagellation specialists who find any little excuse at all to tell themselves that they were wrong, said something stupid, or committed some unforgivable act. Maybe it’s because like attracts like, but it seems to me that there are a whole lot more of us than there are of them.

Frankly, I think that these guiltless wonders have their nerve. Just who do they think they are, anyway? How dare they just shrug their shoulders and walk away from their mistakes while the rest of us suffer the treachery of our own mind drama?

But you know what? I’ll give myself credit for having the courage to say out loud what so many of us suffer in silence. After all, who wants to admit to walking through life carrying a bag loaded full of personal flaws? It’s a crummy job, but I’ll do it, because by golly, if it gives just one other person hope and the courage to move beyond their self-perceived sins, then it’s all worth it.

Maybe I’ll try to be more like the guiltless ones.

Or, maybe just I’ll choose to be perfectly imperfect.

Or both.

Ah. Living happily within the realm of one’s own good graces is a glorious thing. I highly recommend it.

Something New is on the Way!

AVAILABLE ON NOVEMBER 11

 VOICES: Who’s in Charge of the Committee in My Head?

Hello Lovely Friends and Peace Seeking Souls,

I can’t tell you how excited I am to introduce you to my new book, Voices: Who’s in Charge of the Committee in My Head? I’m excited because (a) I actually did it—and trust me—that’s a really big whoop for the likes of a procrastinator such as myself—and (b) because I can’t wait for you to read it and tell me what you think!

Before going further, I want to offer a little caveat. If you are one of those blessed people who sail through life feeling confident, successful, prosperous, peaceful, and over-the-moon happy about yourself and your life, then Voices might not be for you. On the other hand, if like me, you have ever experienced a struggle to get to your happy place and haven’t made it yet, Voices might give you a little boost. Or maybe even a big one.

The “me” to whom I refer is the one who has spent a healthy (or unhealthy) portion of life trying to escape that persistent voice that tries to con me into believing that I am seriously flawed in one way or another, and therefore undeserving of love, peace, joy, and contentment. Happy hides behind a curtain of self-doubt, low self-esteem, and the guilt-producing layers of the shoulda, coulda stuff that wants me to believe that I am totally uncapable and unlovable.

Sound at all familiar? If that describes you, read on!

In the interest of truth in advertising (couldn’t we all use a LOT more truth these days?) let me give you just a little preview of what VOICES is all about.

It’s me talking to—and about— myself a lot. It’s me sharing my innermost thoughts, baring my soul, and risking vulnerability by telling the truth about who I am (and sometimes that can be a little embarrassing). It’s me searching for the “real me” amidst the many voices that populate my head. VOICES is like a pizza with everything with whipped cream on top, whether it goes well together or not. It’s a combination platter of blog, personal journey, and memoir wrapped in a package of spirituality all tied up with a pretty bow. It offers a lighthearted, humorous romp through the days of my life as I waffle back and forth between love and fear, and between the shenanigans of an unruly ego and the powerful allure of a soul that begs for my attention.

I’m very excited about getting VOICES out of my head and into the hands and hearts of those who might benefit by it—those who struggle to find a way out of the dark night of this world (and maybe the soul) and into the light of a  bright and beautiful, brand new day.

VOICES is the sort of book that can be read from cover to cover, or picked up at random for a quick pick-me-up read. For that reason, I recommend sharing it, but not lending it because you may not get it back. Instead, I hope that you will read it, tell your friends about it, and share by way of holiday gift giving to like-mind friends. And, I hope that you’ll visit voicesinmyheadbook.com and tell me what you think!

VOICES will be available through Amazon.com on NOVEMBER 11 in paperback and Kindle. To be added to my mailing list or to order copies, please visit my website. Oh, and don’t forget to say hello while you’re there! I’d love to hear from you.

Out of the dark and into the light,

Julia

Life in the Lazygirl

You know how much I love hanging out in my Lazygirl, right? Well, lucky me—I have been sentenced to The Chair for the next couple of months, courtesy of a klutzy move and a shattered right kneecap. If Covid wasn’t enough to do the trick, I have been given my very own personal timeout to reevaluate and reassess my life.

I trip over my own feet, break a bone, and marvel at the creative antics of a clever Universe that provides me with an opportunity to sit still long enough to pay attention. Sit. Stay! But will I listen? Visions of the Roadrunner with his legs spinning a mile a minute zoomed through my head, as I careened from one room into the next, desperately trying to keep up with a body that was charging at light speed ahead of my feet. It gives new meaning to hit the floor running.

So I’m sentenced to The Chair. Talk about a choice moment to decide if I’ll revert to my slothful old ways so sorely in need of repair, or if I’ll rise to the occasion and use the opportunity to forge ahead and recommit to my spiritual path and purpose. Or maybe check all of the above? Is this another test? If so, I seem to be flunking—at least for now—but there’s still time to make the necessary in-flight corrections before I Roadrunner myself straight into the afterlife.

So far, I’ve been stuck in the needs-repair place. It’s a lovely spot to visit for a while, but as a permanent parking place, it leaves a lot to be desired. If nothing else, it is a splendid opportunity to practice what I preach. Again? Do I have to? Up until now, the Lazygirl has been my all-time favorite parking spot. I wonder—will I still feel the same way once I’m sprung? Or will I flee like my pants will catch fire if I dare sit?

The needs-repair place includes heavy doses of procrastination. Where have I been since my last blog written nearly two months ago? What have I been doing? Why have I been gone for so long? Why am I dawdling? Aw geez. It’s always something. Always a choice about how I wish to live life in my lane. Or in my Lazygirl.

I have been captive for over two weeks already, and what have I learned so far? Well, I’ve not been doing the things that make me happy—not writing, not blogging, not doing much of anything that does much to increase my sense of self-worth. This current state of affairs is making me feel grumpy, useless, and downright disgusted with myself.

Those feelings are not helpful, uplifting, or good for the psyche. Is it okay to be nonproductive and still love me in spite of myself? I decide, right? Oh my—we’re looking at the tip of the iceberg here. There is so much to discover, unearth, and delve into. Do I want to see it? Or would I rather turn on Say Yes to the Dress and zone out watching brides make themselves happy by finding the perfect wedding dress? So far, I’ve said yes to the dress. What is it that I am trying to avoid? Whatever it is, I want to get over it, because it’s not good for my mental health.

It’s time to move on. I’m not quite sure where I’m moving on to at this point, but for now I’ll take one moment, one day at a time, and since that’s all I have, I’ll do my best to talk myself into making the best of it.

But here’s the thing—Just the act of writing this blog is enough to lift my spirits and give me hope. And it’s enough to make me realize and remember that I am the one who decides what I think and feel about myself, and about the world in which I live. I am the one who creates my beliefs and reality. Clearly, it’s better to shatter old useless, worn out thought forms instead of kneecaps, and allow the subtle realm of light to become known and seen.

Now that’s enough to put a smile on my face and dance a happy jig—well, just as soon as my knee is back in proper working order. Meanwhile, I’ll dance a jig in my heart and wait until the rest of me catches up.

PS: There really is a reasonable answer to where I’ve been and what I’ve been doing, but I’ll talk more about that in the next blog, so please stay tuned for an announcement about what will be coming soon! Oh, and by the way, if you click on my website, you won’t get very far because it is not fully up and running yet! Stay tuned . . . See you soon!

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 Shall Overcome

I didn’t know that my bed had an eject button until 3:20 am this morning, when I was suddenly pushed out of it and urged to go sit down to record a vivid dream that woke me out of a sound sleep. Dreams sometimes have a way of confusing and clarifying things all at once. This one assured me beyond a shadow of a doubt that—though the world around us seems absurdly terrifying at the moment—this too shall pass and we will be safe and survive. But in the meantime, we may need to burn away a bit of the dross of the old in order to get from where we are now to the place we’d rather be. That would be the terrifying part.

I was inside the White House in a room filled with people, when we heard a warning that a bomb placed inside a fireplace in the room where we stood would soon detonate. I turned to look for the bomb, and saw it just a split second before it exploded. Its blast rocked the entire house but no one inside the room was harmed or injured in any way. Rather than allowing panic to prevail, others from throughout the house gathered together with those in the room and joined in chorus to sing a  heartfelt song of protection, faith, safety, security, and solidarity. The response to this frightening occurrence struck me as odd; rather than running for our lives, we stood banded together as one in song, drawing strength from one another.

Outside, the fire raged and engulfed the entire exterior of the building, but the inner part of the house was left untouched. The view through the windows was completely obscured by the orange and yellow flames that completely engulfed the building. We could not see anything beyond the walls in which we stood. Inside, we were safe and protected from the effect of the intensity of the burning that threatened our lives.

We stood steady and strong, and eventually the fire burned itself out. From the white ash left behind, there arose an unimaginably glorious new world, shimmering with light and beauty, governed by benevolent leaders focused upon the common good and the welfare of all. In this  glorious new world, we would live in harmony and cooperation with one another and with our leaders, working together to utilize our considerable resources for the benefit our new world and all those within it.

How clever are these dreams. How fitting that this scenario should take place within the house of the President of the United States, the symbolic home of a country that holds the hope of the future of the entire world in its hands. How perfect that it represents the inner sanctuary of security and protection that dwells within each one of us, if we will only choose to nestle gently within the warmth and safety of its embrace. Though that promise appears dim as fires burn around us, we are assured that beyond our awareness there awaits the new world for which we yearn. 

It takes a very strong person to not be affected by these exceptionally difficult and challenging times. It is hard to avoid looking out the window of despair and watch as the world burns. That which threatens the hope within the heart of each one of us will one day pass away, leaving us safe and secure within the depths of our true selves.

Have faith, my friends. Never have the words echoed from the past by Martin Luther King been truer than there are right now, for we are protected by powerful forces greater than the appearance of the flames of destruction. We need only stay centered within the safety of the Soul, and focus on that which will emerge from the ashes of a past that no longer serves. We shall overcome.

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 World is As We See It

 

Today I’m I having one of those days—a do-nothing, can’t-seem-to-get-into-gear kind of days. Once in a while, that’s fine. Healthy, even. But if too many of them are strung together in a row, it might mean that there’s trouble brewing. Trouble in River City. There are letters to write, emails to answer, phone calls to make, bills to pay, organizing to do, and what’s my first move? A nap. Ah. Blessed bliss! 

Maybe my empath self is picking up on all of the negative energy that is floating around out there in the universe. Maybe I’m being affected by the rampant fear thoughts overshadowing the world during these days of a stubborn pandemic, with its attendant problematic consequences. Maybe I’m buying into the pessimistic news that is being heaped upon humanity by mainstream media. Oh but wait—I don’t watch the news. Maybe I’m just getting it by  osmosis.

It’s these moments that bring a spate of soul searching that ultimately brings the blessed relief that lasts a lot longer than a nap. These are the moments—uncomfortable though they may sometimes be—that provide insight and awareness into the heart of the matter, along with the accompanying wisdom and solutions that bring healing to whatever the issue might be. These are the moments that help me to see that I see amiss.

Today it dawns on me that I need to recognize that my downtrodden attitude infects others, just as those of others may infect me. If I had but one gift to give to my brothers and sisters in my family of humanity, would it be the gift of a downtrodden attitude that I would offer? No! But I’m still stuck in low-mode, so now what?

Perhaps now might be a good time for a chat with Us. 

Oh, of course. Why didn’t I think of that?

We are happy to say that you just did, and we are grateful for that. We are saddened to see your usual upbeat attitude slip beneath the dividing line that separates holy from unhealthy. We are always here ready to help, if you will simply ask. We have been watching and waiting for your recognition that you are in need of a boost of inspiration and spiritual upliftment. We are glad that you have reached out so that We may help you to reach up. 

Right. Clearly, sometimes I get caught up in my day-to-day doings and forget to do the things that are the most important for my health and well-being—nurturing my Divine Connection, for example. Guilty again.

Please be reminded that there is no need for guilt, for you have done nothing wrong. You have simply slipped away from doing the things that help you stay on the upside of holy.

It is always a blessing to speak with You. In doing so, I realize that one reason for my “unholy” attitude is that I have not been doing the thing that brings me the greatest joy. I have not been writing. I have not published a blog since last forever. Where have I been? What have I been doing? Apparently, I have been spending time viewing the world through dark lenses, rather than choosing to see the light.

Well, I’m back, at least for today, and today is the only day I have. It’s the only day that anyone has. We have the choice to waste it away with a pessimistic attitude of fear, or fill it with a belief in the power of our own minds to bring about positive change for one and for all through faith, love, and compassion.

It truly is all about how we see. 

Yes. It truly is. Vision as seen through the eyes of the heart will indeed build a world of love, compassion, wisdom, truth and beauty. Keep your eye upon your donut, dear one, for it is through a vision of wholeness that a new world will be born.

Thank you, Dear Friends, for a new blog, a new day, and a renewed vision of spiritual upliftment and inspiration. Today, things are definitely looking up!

You are most welcome. Come back often, and remember—We are always here. Just call.

Just Say Yes

 

In the early days of the pandemic, I received a call from a friend asking me how I was, and what I was doing for kicks. It made me smile, and then wonder what I was doing for kicks. What does anyone do for kicks in the midst of a pandemic?

Well, for one thing, instead of watching the news, I binged on old reruns of Say Yes to the Dress because in today’s world of darkness and fear, I wanted to focus on something that brings happiness, both to myself and others. Watching a bride find her perfect wedding dress is enough to warm my heart and put the icing, roses, and topper on my cake.  

As Covid begins to wind down, I still try to be mindful of what thoughts may be lurking somewhere in my head—thoughts that have the potential to disturb my peace of mind—fearful, worrisome thoughts that make me want to escape into zone-out mode to insulate myself from this scary world.

To take my mind off of the things that I don’t want to think about, I try to focus on what needs to be done. I do whatever I can to help me keep my spirits up, and look beyond the hideous appearance of what is going on in the world—my world and your world, a world that seems to deteriorate moment to moment. I do whatever it takes to divert my attention away from what is distressing, and look for the light side instead. Sometimes I succeed.

Most importantly, perhaps, I choose not to glom onto the opinions of the talking heads who get paid by the powerful and greedy to spin the news into traps of bleakness, designed to scare the bejeepers out of us in a marathon of pumping out news that keeps us in a state of perpetual fear. No thanks. Not for me.

No matter how dreadful things seem, it helps to remind myself that somewhere in all of this there is a silver lining, if only I will look for it. For me, that has come in the form of an increased desire to do whatever I can to help. Hello? Is there a needle in this haystack somewhere? Or maybe a pony in the manure? What in the world can I—little old one-person-me—possibly do that can make a difference, no matter how miniscule, in the midst of this mind-boggling quagmire of apparent hopelessness?  

I can say yes. I can say yes to the truth, the beauty and the goodness in the world. I can say yes to the light and no to anything that does not serve to uplift our family of humanity. I can add positivity to the mix, rather than negativity. I can say yes to the belief that the vision of a new world will become manifest, and I can do my best to make that happen by staying focused on doing my part to create the reality of a life lived in peace, harmony, cooperation, and love.

I can, and you can, and together we can make the world a better place for all. When enough of us join in a common purpose of seeking the light, we will find it, and we will march arm in arm into a brand new and glorious world of our own making. Where two or more are gathered. Just say yes.

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)

A Labor of Love

In a sudden fit of do-goodness, I once assigned myself the task of doing something for someone other than myself. It was part of my desire to launch myself further along on my spiritual journey, I suppose. 

So, I started this little business called Labor of Love. Perhaps it was a teach-what-I-need-to-learn sort of thing, because the idea was to help desperate and frustrated folks clear out the clutter in their homes. Hello, Self? Does that sound familiar? Clutter, it is said, is an outer reflection of the content of the mind—at least that’s true in my world. I shouldn’t speak for others. 

The job was an unrealistic, altruistic attempt to help folks carve out a clutter-free space their lives. My fee was their donation to a charity, for which they could claim a tax deduction. It was a win-win-win situation for all concerned; the recipient gained a decluttered space and a tax deduction, a charity received a donation, and I earned the feel-good experience of feeding my need to make myself useful by being of service to someone other than myself. I must have felt desperate to earn some stars in my crown.

It was a mix of heartwarming and exhausting work. It required the use of both physical energy and facilitative skill to help the seriously-cluttered divest themselves of their attachment to their stuff. It was the speedy route to burn out; I soon reached a point where the thought of having to face one more jungle of unbridled clutter made me want to run for my life. Perhaps I would have lasted longer had I been the recipient of the charitable donation.

So here’s the thing about teaching what I needed to learn. To a casual observer, I am the poster child for minimalism, organization, and orderliness. But oh, dear God, don’t open a closet because it will be crowded with decades of indecision; bureau drawers are brimming with doodads and trinkets tangled in a jumble, and a mix of tacky cheap jewelry is scattered in the with the good stuff.  Oh, and then there’s the question of my so-called filing system. Well, need I say more? 

Someday maybe I’ll get around to cleaning up my own act, maybe before I die and dump it in the laps of my survivors. Maybe. Maybe I need a kindhearted, altruistic, declutterer to come to my rescue. Why is the shoemaker’s kid always the last one to get the shoes?

At this point in my life, I’m not feeling overwhelmingly motivated to dive into the closets or the drawers. Except the file drawers. Where paper is concerned, one way or another, I’m going to face a conundrum. Why is it, for example, that I can have a piece of paper in my hand one minute, and in the next, it has mysteriously disappeared, like a sock in the dryer?

Then there is the mother of all messes—the dreaded computer files. How can one pencil-thin thirteen-inch laptop contain such an unholy conglomeration of disorganization? How did it get in such a state of hideous disarray? Ok, I am not going to lay the blame entirely on my own head here. At least part of the problem lies with the maddening updates foisted upon us by the computer geeks and their algorithms, who think that they need to fix something that isn’t broken. After one such “improvement,” any semblance of order became so severely scrambled that I have never recovered. I can only limp my way through my searches, hoping to remember the name of what I’m looking for, and praying for the best. Things that I’d like to save forever risk losing their lives in the jaws of my computer.

Can anyone tell me—is it possible to turn over a new leaf, start a new chapter with a clean slate, be reborn into organizational awareness, and help me find what I’m looking for? A new computer will not solve the problem because the old internal clutter will be dragged along and muck up a clean, new space.

Hmm. It dawns on me that I may be describing the human condition here. The clutter of our past is dragged around with us until we make a conscious decision to wipe our slate clean and change our ways. Oh my. Apparently I must have some decluttering to do beyond just closets and computers. 

Maybe in my next life my slate will be cleaner. Oh, but why wait? Why not get a jump start, cross procrastination off my list, and start now instead? I guess it’s an inside job; it’s all up to me. But here’s the good news: I am not alone! There is help if I am willing to reach out and ask. It comes in many forms—from friends, words from kind strangers, dreams, new ideas, new ways of thinking, new insights, or from the wise Voice within myself. And billboards. Don’t forget the billboards. We are never without help. Dream of a clean slate and expect miracles. Ramp up the willingness, and pull out the magic eraser.

I’m dreaming of clean slates and decluttered, organized computer files. Oh, and miracles. Does anyone happen to know a kindhearted Apple computer declutterer with an eye toward the next step up the evolutionary ladder? I donate hourly or by the job.

Or maybe I’ll just donate a Labor of Love to myself.

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)