Inspiration – Page 4 – Voices in My Head

Plugging Up the Leaks

True-accountability-means-accepting-responsibility-3-208-768x644.jpg I’ve been trying to work my way up to a nap, but leaks keeps getting in my way. Plug up one, and another spouts forth to replace it. There’s a leak in my washing machine, one in my ceiling, others in the ceilings of beaucoup residents in the building sending plumbers like mice with their sharp little teeth scurrying up and down between floors chewing gaping holes in the walls in search of the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. I am living in a very holy place these days. A day without the report of a leak is a good day. Unfortunately, today is not one of them. No nap for me.

As I ponder the “Why me, God?” question when confronted with a call at an odd hour from a frantic resident screaming “WATER”, I am reminded of a phrase well known to those on a spiritual quest, “Be careful what you ask for.” It dawns on me that just this morning I upgraded my intention to adopt a stance of harmlessness, selflessness, and right speech. Oh boy. Be careful what you ask for. Apparently, the Powers that Be listen very closely and are Johnny-on-the-spot to respond.

With one finger stuck in the dike and an ear glued to the plumber’s hotline, it occurs to me that maybe our current leak-a-thon is providing me with just the perfect opportunity to grab myself by a new attitude and start to practice the art of paying closer attention to what goes on in my head. It would probably sound a wee bit irreverent to say, “Gee, thanks Universe”, but the truth is, I asked for it. Ask and ye shall receive.

Every now and then, I fantasize about what it would be like to hang out inside the head of a person who is spiritually enlightened. The Dalai Lama for example, or Jesus or maybe Mother Teresa. How and what do they think? Do they spend 24/7 praying and meditating? Do they have a sense of humor? Do they wonder what’s for dinner? Do they roll around in Heaven all day forgiving everyone whether they need it or not? Do those who still walk among us in the world think in the same way as those who have departed?

Such imaginings expand my mind and send me on a merry chase in search of role models who give me hints about what might lie ahead. They show me a picture of I want to be like when I grow up, and provide the incentive to for me to run like the wind in hot pursuit of my goal, like the adorable little pink pigs at the California state fair running for the reward of cookies and cream at the end of the race.

I know there’s a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, or maybe some cookies and cream. I know I’ll get there eventually, but in the meantime, I’ll just keep on plugging up leaks and practice the fine art of harmlessness, selflessness, and right speech. I’m not sure what all of that means, exactly, but somehow, I’m quite sure that I will soon find out. That ought to keep me busy 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).

What Hides Beneath the Mask?

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!

The Magic of Creation

In response to a recent blog, The Soul of Service, in which I again questioned my writing commitment, a friend reminded me that when one is prompted by the soul to write, whether it is daily or every other day, it is inner knowing that counts, rather than a slavish following of a personality idea of what one should be doing. I knew that, but I forgot again.

It is a blessed thing to have wise friends who have the ability to help put things into proper perspective. I have all of the answers that I need within myself, but sometimes I forget to look for them or lose track of them, like car keys in the shuffle of everyday life.

There’s a whole lot of stuff that I know nothing about, but this much I do know—I know what I know. I know what’s important, what’s good for me, and what isn’t. I know what makes me happy and what doesn’t. I know that inner knowing is the key to happiness because it sifts the should’s and gotta do’s out of the mind and replaces guilt with loving kindness toward the self. I know the meaning of the expression, “If mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy.” We’re all mama’s. We all deserve to be happy. We all deserve to be the very best expressions of ourselves that we can possibly be.

Some people are fortunate to enter into the world with an inherent sense of happiness that comes naturally. Others have to engage in a struggle to overcome unfortunate circumstances, or to flail through layers of cloud cover before discovering that the treasures of happiness and creativity dwell within the confines of our own souls.

Sometimes creativity gets stuck somewhere within, like that last stubborn squeeze of toothpaste that refuses to exit the tube. It gets stranded somewhere within the ego that stands strong and wants to show the soul who’s the boss. Creativity on demand, forced creativity doesn’t usually work out well. Free flowing creativity of the soul marches to its own drummer and spills out in spite of itself in ideas that flow onto paper, and brushes that take on a life of their own and splash color on a canvas as the creator marvels in wonder as miraculous results appear. Creativity in action is truly inspired, a joy to behold and experience.

The expression of creativity brings a joy that nothing else can, a sense of achievement that outlasts and outmatches anything that the material realm has to offer. It’s why writers write, artists paint, and builders build. Creativity needs to be nurtured, coddled, loved into existence by a patient soul willing to let go and watch as it unfolds, willing to allow the will-to-do take the reins and be in charge. It requires inner knowing, inner listening, and faith in the process in order to become manifest.

Divine connection with the Self is the source of creativity that brings forth the sense of happiness that feeds the soul with joy. Sometimes creativity gushes forth in great bursts of energy; sometimes it is a mere drip, drip, drip that slowly reaches the brim of its container, then finally spills over its edges and becomes a gentle flood that cannot be denied. Whatever its size, shape, form, or timetable, it is a gift from Divine source, the Divine connection that lives within. It cannot be rushed or coerced or squeezed into existence; it is best if just simply allowed.

Pardon My French

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.

The Feeding of Bodies and Minds

I’m not a big fan of having do anything that I don’t want to do. Maybe you know the feeling? Anyway, when I was invited to attend a seminar about nutrition and healthy eating, I balked because I didn’t want to hear somebody tell me what I already knew and refuse to do, but lunch was included, so how could I resist? I figured that I might be choking down some miso and bean sprouts, but oh well.

Much to my surprise and delight, there was a fabulously delicious healthy meal, and nobody stood in my face lecturing me about what I had to stop doing that was wrong, or what I had to start doing that was right. Instead, there was just Elizabeth, handing me a piece of chocolate and teaching me how to eat it mindfully. I liked it (both the chocolate and mindful parts). I expected a lecture; instead, I got candy. What a deal! That says a little about expectations, doesn’t it? Now, when I receive a newsletter from Elizabeth, I open it up, enjoy it, and sometimes even try a recipe. I particularly enjoyed the pumpkin laced spaghetti sauce.

Today I am inspired to share a newsletter that I just received from Elizabeth because it perfectly echoes my philosophy of life, and says in someone else’s words what I’ve been babbling every day since mid-April. Positive thinking and good news always bear repeating, and sometimes it’s helpful to hear it from a new perspective. The topic is nutrition, but the premise reaches beyond the boundaries of healthy eating habits and can be shifted from what we feed our bodies to what we feed our minds. Elizabeth says it well:

“This is one of the most important pieces of advice I can give you to help you reach your nutrition goals:

There is no failure when it comes to nourishing your body—only FEEDBACK.

You simply can’t fail with your healthy eating goals when you adopt this outlook. One bad meal, day, week, or more does not dictate your entire nutrition journey. You cannot give up because you think you “messed up” using this approach.

The true measure of success—along with genuine transformation and lasting results—comes from the ability to get CURIOUS NOT CRITICAL.

The #1 most helpful thing you can do when you feel like you’ve gotten off track, overeaten, made poor food selections, skipped too many workouts, or whatever else your perceived “misstep” may be …is to ditch the crappy self-talk and defeatist thinking in favor of adopting a growth (instead of a fixed) mindset.

This means you need to learn how to ask the right questions… how to listen for the most helpful feedback… and know how to use the information you gather to inform your future food choices.

… go crush your goals!

You’ve got this.”

Yes. You do. Go for it! Thanks Elizabeth.

See more from Elizabeth here.

The Cocoon of the Soul

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.

Feasts and Fasts

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.

Getting a Grip

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.

In the Soup

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 the 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?

The Activist Hat – Again

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 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.