Inching Toward Freedom

Are you a guilt producer?  Wait—what?  What’s your definition of a guilt producer?  Well, the way I see it, there are two kinds of guilt.  There’s the guilt that’s heaped on us by outside sources, like a mother, or kids, or maybe the church.  Then there’s the inside guilt, the stuff that encompasses all of the self-perceived faults and flaws of the soul—all committed by an imperfect self who should-have, shouldn’t-have done, the self that finds fault over every tiny little oopsie and risks annihilation by self-judgment.  Sometimes, guilt is buried so deep that we don’t even know that it’s there until we find we find our heads buried in a plate of spaghetti with meatballs.

I realize, of course, that small libraries could be filled to overflowing with volumes written on the subject of guilt, but in the interest of an 800-word-or-less blog, I’m opting for the Reader’s Digest version, aka, my own less-than perfect unprofessional interpretation of the subject.  I learn by experience, and trust me, where guilt is concerned, I’ve produced a ton of that.

Personally, I have managed to become fairly immune to the outside stuff, but it’s the inside stuff that can still catch me off guard—the self-produced kind of should-have, could-have, did, or didn’t do sort of guilt.  The origin of guilt is not important, except that guilt in any form or from any source produces the tendency toward self-punishment, the result of which varies according to individual tastes and preferences.  

My particular form of punishment often appears as crippling self-doubt that typically results in procrastination and lowered feelings of self-worth.  The sure-fire antidote to my self-induced suffering leads me down a well-worn path straight to the refrigerator.  It used to be the wine bottle, but I gave that up a few years ago.  Now it’s the spaghetti.  Or worse.

Over time, my guilt production level has dropped from a ten to about a two or three.  I’m not home free yet, but I’m making great progress.  The key is to recognize the devil when I see it, and nip it in the bud before I beat a path to the fridge and dive into the ice cream, hot fudge, whipped cream and side of caramel sauce.  It requires vigilance.  Guilt is insidious.  It sneaks up while you’re looking the other way.  Beware.

It is here that I want to let you in on a little secret that I have recently discovered and am working to incorporate into my awareness and make a permanent part of my life.  It’s the discovery of a lifetime.  If I were out to make money by selling a product or service on my blog, I’d be selling like crazy here—you know—“This amazing discovery will change your life, this little secret is the key to happiness, it’s all you’ll ever need to know, blah, blah, blah.”  You’ve heard it all.  Nope I’m giving this one away for free, right here, right now.  So here it is.  Free.  My gift to you.  Ready?  Hang on because here goes . . .

Be who you are.  Be true to yourself. Whatever you choose to do is fine.  You are perfect exactly as you are.  Do whatever makes you happy.  You are doing the best that you can right here, right now.  Listen to your heart. Do not allow yourself to be swayed by the opinions of others. There is no need to change or do anything differently because you are already doing what you are meant to be doing.  Every so-called mistake is an opportunity to learn a lesson and make a correction the next time.  There is no need for guilt because there is nothing that you have done wrong. You are now and ever will be free.

I know—it’s pretty hard concept to swallow.  It might even be a touch guilt-producing to think in such a way.  Ludicrous. Hedonistic.  Blasphemous.

Still—give it a try, if only for a minute, if that’s all you can manage.  It’s such a new way of thinking that it’s going to require practice, but you’ll never know the freedom inherent within a guilt-free existence until you try it out for yourself.  It might seem like an impossible dream, but like anything else, anything worth having is worth working toward.  By the yard it’s hard, but by the inch it’s a cinch.  Think of what it would be like to live in a world without guilt.  

It’s a lofty and magnificent goal, a gift you give yourself, and to others in your life.  You’ll never know until you try, and experience it for yourself—if only for a minute.  By the inch, it’s a cinch.

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)

Armed with Harmlessness

Yesterday was pretty much a wasted day filled with lollygagging, wasting time, and doing not much of anything.  On days like that, I have to remind myself that it’s okay to take a day off, to rest, enjoy the benefit of free time, and not guilt myself silly over thinking that I should be doing something that I’m not.  Days like that tend to bring out the worst in me and I find myself thinking thoughts that aren’t good for the psyche.  

In a recent blog (The Happy Factor) I talked about waking up in a kind of funk brought about by a sadness over the way the world is going these days.  Today I must add that sluggish days like yesterday also have an impact upon my place on the Happy Factor scale of one to ten.  So, upon recognition of yesterday’s mini-funk, I employed my trusty ask-for-help technique and put in a request for help in rising above my harmful thoughts.  

As if on cue, there was an explosion of negativity that went off in my head.  It was as if someone stuck a stick of dynamite inside of my subconscious mind, lit the fuse, and pushed the plunger.  Whoa.  What a blessed blast!

I have recently been invited (or perhaps challenged is a better choice of words) by my spiritual guidance counselors to examine my mind for the purpose of working toward achieving a state of mental harmlessness, selflessness, and right speech. I accepted the invitation, and an entire civilization of negativity that I didn’t know was buried there was excavated from deep within, exposed to the light, and is hanging out waiting for me to decide whether to keep it or get rid of it.

Maybe on some unconscious, mysterious level, we as humanity are also considering the possibility that harmlessness, selflessness and right speech are powerful tools to help us move out of the shadow into the light.  Maybe the unbelievably devastating world events have been caused by our collective hidden negativity and have brought forth the desire to allow our dark and ugly parts to be exposed to the light for the purpose of reevaluation and healing.  Maybe we are each called to stand up, stand strong, and take responsibility for the thoughts and actions that shape our world, and accept the challenge to set upon a new and improved course of action that will flush out all that stands in the way of finding peace within ourselves and within our world. 

Will I accept the challenge to replace harm with harmlessness, self-serving with selflessness, and words of criticism and judgment with words of kindness and love?  It all begins with a decision in the mind.

I professed my willingness to accept the challenge.  What I received was an avalanche of awareness about the content of my mind, and it wasn’t a very pretty sight.  But I’m grateful.  Because now that I know what has been lurking beneath the surface, I can decide whether or not to keep it or let it go. Jettisoning negativity guarantees an upgrade on the Happy Factor scale.  Every single thought that I have has a ripple effect upon not only myself, but upon my world and everyone in it.  If I want to live in a better world, I need to clean up my act.

It’s always good to remind myself that if I need help, I need only ask. Today I am asking to be armed with harmlessness. May I be harmless. May I be selfless. May I be kind in thought, action, and deed. And so may it be.

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)

Power Over the Storm

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We survived Hurricane What’s-Her-Name (who can pronounce Isaias?) and its demise was amazing.  Howling winds and water every which-way suddenly stopped dead and turned off like a faucet cutting off the cold water, while the hot water faucet turned on the sunshine.  It was quite astounding—a wonder to behold.  No lingering aftereffects whatsoever, if you don’t count the poor folks left without power and the accompanying tornado.

I wish I could do that with my attitude.  I’ve been doing more than my usual amount of soul searching lately, sifting through the debris of a mind cluttered with a whole bunch of stuff that I’d rather not have to see or acknowledge.  The willingness to delve into the depths of the soul is not always an adventure for the faint of heart, but hey—in my world, it’s what makes life worth living because it’s where I find the really good stuff once the not so good is cleared away.

Amidst my morning ponderings of such things, I came upon an email that smacked me in the face with the mother of all annoyances—being given unsolicited advice and/or told what to do, particularly when I already know what to do and have every intention of doing it.  Sigh.  What is that, exactly?  Is it because I assume that the perpetrator thinks that I am not savvy enough to figure out something for myself?  Do I think my intelligence has been insulted?  Am I the only one who gets her knickers in a twist about such things?

The howling winds of ego swirl around and threaten my peace of mind, pummeling me with a flood of unpredictable, uncontrollable fury.  Maybe I react so strongly because I am blind to the possibility that I am guilty of such behavior myself.  Maybe my head is stuck in the sand again about all sorts of behavior that I’d rather not see.   The lingering aftereffects of such an ego outburst leave me feeling powerless over my own wayward emotions.

Well, maybe I’ve plucked just a little from the Writer’s Handbook of Exaggeration for Effect.  I confess, I’m not really as out of control as I make myself sound.  As a matter of fact, I’m pretty cool most of the time, which is why, when something comes up that twists my knickers, it catches me off guard and seems worse that it actually is.  It’s just that as I travel along the path toward spiritual enlightenment, sometimes dirty laundry pops up to be washed and hung out in the sunshine to dry and blow in a gentle breeze for a while.  The part about squeezing through the wringer can be a little ouchy, but once I make it out into the light, a whole new joyous and wonderfully delicious world awaits.

One of these days, the winds will diminish to a gentle, calming breeze and I’ll realize beyond a shadow of a doubt that my light is lit by the Source of All That Is and that there is nothing in the world that can turn it off.  Every now and then, I catch a glimpse of what lies ahead, and trust me—it’s worth every ouchy.  Howling winds and lingering aftereffects vanish are replaced by power beyond measure.

Somewhere along the line, I must have signed up for the journey of a lifetime, and amidst my travels, I have discovered that it truly is the only trip worth taking. It can be a pretty wild ride, but I have some very reliable, devoted, tour guides who will never leave me, nor let me lose my way, even when I stop somewhere along the way to stick my head in the sand.  How blessed am I?

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 Crooked Path Home

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Back in the day when I thought that I was God’s gift to the world, the idea of living a spiritually-based life was unthinkable.  I saw it as being just about the most pathetic excuse for a life on the planet.  Where’s the excitement?  Where’s the glamor?  Where’s the fun?  Who would even consider living such a life, besides a priest, or a nun perhaps?  And even then—why?  Nope.  Not for me.   B-o-r-i-n-g.

Then smack dab in the height of my ego trip, I began to notice ever so slowly, in dribbles and drabs, in little bits and pieces, that stuff began to happen.  Stuff that caught me by surprise, that shook up my foundations, that rattled my cage, exploded my highfalutin concept of myself, and sent me off into a dark night of the soul.  Humpty fell off the wall and smashed to smithereens.  Ouch.

My search for an escape from the darkness led me down countless avenues of exploration to find a way out.  It was a long and arduous journey, but of one thing I was absolutely certain: I had no choice.  I had to find a way out.  I suppose that a trip to the depths of despair might happen to everyone at one point or another, either in this lifetime, the last, or the next.  This one was mine.  My trip down into the pits provided the incentive that I needed to give myself a good, swift kick in the butt and make a commitment to find my way out.  Not until I was fully ensconced in the dark did the search for light begin.

Fast forward to now—and wow—what a difference a dark night of the soul makes!  I’m a whole new me, a makeover of my former self waving goodbye to the last vestiges of an ego trip that ran me on a merry chase in search of all that I thought was good, cool, fun, worth living for, protecting, and guarding with my very life.

Decades later, Humpty is reassembled and sitting happily back up on the wall.  True, it took a while, but the wait was worth it because as each tiny little piece of me was glued back in its proper place, an inner joy filled in the cracks and all that is left is the beautiful, smooth surface of a healed soul at peace with itself and with the world.

Goodbye ego, goodbye glamor, goodbye excitement, and fun.  Hello peace, contentment, hello joy beyond measure.  Having lived in one place and another, and if given a choice for the rest of eternity, I’ll choose another every time.  The glamor of the ego cannot begin to compete with the indescribable ecstasy of striving to live life as a Soul.

The journey toward the Soul is the adventure of a lifetime.  It is a rocky ride made smooth by mighty and powerful forces that help us along the way.  I would not trade one inch of my life’s path, because no matter how crooked the road I chose, it was always made straight.  There are no wrong decisions, because each choice leads us that much closer to what is right.  Every fork offers an option and every option is an opportunity to learn, grow, and experience the benefits and consequences of our choices.  There no wrong turns, there are no mistakes; we are gifted with an abundance of time, opportunity, and do-overs to get it right.  We live in a universe populated by loving, Wise Ones who hold our hands as we travel our path, and guide us through treacherous shoals home to the safety of our souls.  I cannot imagine wanting anything more 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).

What Hides Beneath the Mask?

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I have new neighbors across the hall and the way things are going these days, I may not know what they look like for another year.  When you’re my age, the good news about masks is that they hide the bottom half of a sagging, wrinkled face.  The bad news is that my glasses steam up, I can’t see, I can’t read lips, and I can’t hear because everybody mumbles.  Basically I am rendered deaf, dumb, and blind—but at least I am in the good company of much of the grey-haired, glass-wearing population where I live, and we’re all learning to understand mumblese together.  My heartfelt sympathy goes to the younger generation trying to fumble their way through the dating game.

My sympathy also to those of us in my condo building who are personally confronted with an epidemic of pin hole leaks and an assortment of miscellaneous plumbing issues rivaling the proportions of the pandemic.  Just as we think (and hope and pray) that it’s under control, another pipe pipes up and bursts forth with a vengeance later.  Like health caregivers, plumbers are mightily overwhelmed trying to stay ahead of the floods.  They think it might be due to the numbers of people staying home and flushing more.  I guess there are stranger things . . . who can say?

Meanwhile, the deaf, dumb, and blind among us continue to run around in a frantic effort to plug up wayward leaks lest we drown before we have a chance to rip our masks off and take a great gulp of fresh air.

It all makes me wonder—is the mask that I wear covering up the best part of myself?  Am I hiding behind the safety of what is old, familiar, safe?  Is there something that I’m not facing, or something that I do not wish to see?  Am I afraid that if I remove the protective mask that shelters my so-called safety that I’ll spring a leak and drown in my own fear?  Am I afraid that if I remove the mask I will be judged unfavorably, or that I will expose my vulnerability to others, and be perceived as weak?

So what would happen if I suddenly ripped off the mask, exposed the sags and wrinkles, and came face to face with whatever hides behind the face covering?  Well, I might be horrified.  Or on the other hand, I might be pleasantly surprised to find a lovely person that I’ve never met, a beautiful soul with a light that shines as bright as the sun, someone that I’d really like to get to know, someone I’d like to hang with for the rest of my days.

It requires courage to allow dark shadows to come to light in order to be healed— to rip off the mask like a band-aid, or peel it away bit by bit like layers of an onion to peek at what lies beneath.  But it is safe to trust in the wisdom, care, and guidance of Wise Ones who have our best interests at heart as we do what we must in order to discover the truth, beauty, and goodness that lives within.  There’s light behind the mask.  Let it shine!

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).

Pardon My French

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Somewhere between getting my bones out of bed today, slogging into the kitchen for coffee, and making my way to the Lazygirl for my morning visit with myself, I had an epiphany.  Since the confines of the pandemic, my life has morphed from an outer one to inner, and my days begin and end in the Lazygirl.  The in-between is anybody’s guess, but the one thing I know for sure is that the beginnings and the endings are my favorite times of day.

I really covet the safety of my morning and evening sits, but sometimes the in-betweens can present some really tricky situations, some related to my membership on the board of directors of the condo where I live.  Many folks ensconced in the world of spiritual growth call such challenges AFGO’s.  Another Effing Growth Opportunity.  Oh great!  Another AFGO!  Pardon my French.  (Why do we always blame the French for the use of vulgarity?)

We’re all faced with AFGO’s from time to time, some simple, some whipdoozies.  The question becomes, what do we do when one comes our way?  How do we deal with them?   If you’ve been following along, you know that one of my favorite techniques for handling tricky challenges is the trusty head-in-the-sand trick.  You also know that there’s a pony hiding somewhere amidst the manure.  Somewhere between the ostrich and pony, there is buried treasure.

In my experience as a board member, we are often presented with conflicts that wander around amidst the wants of the people, the needs of the property, and the vagaries of personalities.  It gives new meaning to “You can’t please all of the people all of the time.”  It’s a conundrum of the highest order.

My experience is that whatever the size, shape, or form, an AFGO presents an unparalleled opportunity for personal growth if one has the courage and willingness to extract the head from the sand and dig through the manure long enough to find it.  The reward of the search is healing, renewed vision, restoration of sanity, and an opportunity to choose love over fear.  If we find common ground and agree that we’re all in it together, then in the end rough edges are smoothed out and peace is restored to mind, heart, and home.  Well, one can only hope, right?

As I sit all nestled in the safety of my inner sanctuary and comfort of the lone Lazygirl, I know that every AFGO strewn across my path, both past, present, and undoubtedly future, has provided a life lesson that has pushed me one step closer to the achievement of my life’s purpose.  Is it easy?  No.  Is it worth it?  Yes.  Is it fun?  Not always, but once in a while it’s downright hilarious.  It helps to know that the Universe is equipped with a wonderful sense of humor that brings comic relief when the going gets tough.  And by the way, if you decide to stick your toe in the water and pan for the gold, you should know that you will never walk alone.  The hand of one who has gone before will reach out to help you along the way, while another will reach out to welcome you to your destiny.

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 Cocoon of the Soul

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I frittered away most of my writing time this morning, but oh well—there’s always later with lunch in between.  One of the things that I’m learning in my time-out is to quit picking on myself about petty stuff.  No, wait.  Make that quit picking on myself about any stuff.  It’s not good for the psyche.  In a world where criticism about one thing or another is wildly abundant, what’s the point of adding an unhealthy heap of it upon myself?  The rest of the world will be happy to do it for me.

Running away to solitude is a lovely temporary solution to remove myself from the world stage, but unless I’m prepared to repair to the wilderness for 40 days as Jesus did, or take the Buddha approach to enlightenment under the Bodhi tree, or cart myself off to an isolated mountaintop somewhere, eventually, I’ll need to return to the outside world.  Do I want to?  Well, not really.  Not yet.  I kind of like it here in the cozy container of my own home talking to myself and enjoying my own company.  It’s a lovely little vacation away from anything that makes me cranky and it brings me peace.   It parks me in a place where I am learning that the only judgment in my corner of the world at the moment is my own.

Sooner or later I will need to emerge from my cocoon, but until then, I’m hanging in here until I’m fully cooked.  Or at least until my wings are strong enough to carry me through whatever storm might be brewing in the outer world once I decide to make a break for it.  I don’t know what’s coming, but I know that I’m going to need all the strength I can muster to make it safely to a space of quiet calm.

What a great process.  What a great opportunity to be in the world but not of it, to be able to sit back and watch the show without being a part of it, exempt from the drama, judgment, and the need to find a safe haven from the voices of personal opinion that separate and divide one from another, that perpetuate fear rather than love.

What a joyous vacation.  What a sanctuary for the soul.  What a gift of Spirit.  How blessed I am to be able to enjoy it.  My wish for humanity is that we all find the safety within the quiet of our hearts and rest there in gentle stillness for a while.

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).

 

Opting for Better Options

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Another day, another blog.  I think I’m beginning to get the hang of it.

In the continuing saga of my cobweb-clearing time-out, I took an early morning walk down to the lake for another round of peaceful space-staring and thumb-sucking.  My bench was covered with morning dew.  Rats!  I stood shifting from one foot to another for a while, trying to figure out if I wanted to soggy myself up with morning dew or give it up and go back home.  I decided in favor of dry bottom and headed home.  Phooey.  Oh well—on to Plan B, whatever that is.  I guess I’ll have to make it up as I go.

On the return trip I met Kathleen and her dog Charlie (by their dogs ye shall know them) and we chatted for a while about my dog Charlie who, sadly, crossed the Rainbow Bridge last February.  The thing about dog lovers is that nobody ever runs out of something to talk about.  Ah, but I digress.  After swapping names and contact information with my new friend, I went on my happy way and came upon an old friend—one I’ve known for several years.  Old friend, new friend, grateful for all friends no matter age nor tenure.

But again I digress.  This morning I saw a horrifyingly fascinating video of a full grown leopard with an alligator equal in size clamped between its massive jaws, hauling the thing out of the water and up a hill.  It was pretty clear that one of the two was headed for the Rainbow Bridge, and my money was on the leopard.  That is not a picture that I will soon forget.

To say that the scene was unsettling would be an understatement at the very least, made  worse because there was something in it that seemed vaguely familiar.  Uh oh.  It reminded me of myself.  Surely, nature is one of the best, and the cruelest of teachers.

I ask myself—am I the leopard or the alligator?  Sometimes when my attempt at trying to get something to conform to whatever it is that I want, I am tempted to grab the thing by the scruff of the neck like a puppy with a stuffed toy and shake it until its stuffings fall out.  It’s a pretty sure bet that my temptation to wrestle my way through a situation won’t always work out in my favor.  Amidst a roomful of people who collectively agree with an idea that differs from my own, the chances of my success decrease exponentially.   Let go or die, kill or be killed.

Somewhere in this scenario, I do believe that there must be a better approach.  This morning’s aborted bench mission turned out to be just the blessing I needed.  I traded in a wet bottom for a warm heart and reminded myself that sometimes it’s a better idea to just unclench my jaws, let the alligator go, and opt for Plan B instead.  I may not get exactly what I wanted, but I just might get something even better.

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?