Calming the Storm

It’s a challenge to find peace amidst the craziness of today’s world, have you noticed? This morning as I was doing my best to calm the storm roiling around in my head, I remembered a poem that I read a couple of years ago on the New Waves of Light website that brought blessed relief from the inner turmoil that threatens peace of mind. I share it with you with the hope that it might help do the same for you. These days, we all need as much peace as we can get, wherever we may find it. May your heart be filled with love and light.

RESTING IN STILLNESS

Come and rest your mind, Dear One.

Rest and be still awhile. Let Us refresh you.

Let Us cleanse the window of your soul that you may see clearly.

Allow all that troubles you to slip away and create a void in which you may bask in quiet peace and be renewed.

Know that the void within is being filled with Love and Light that cannot be contained.

Allow it to flow out from you into the world around you, lighting everything that surrounds you.

This is the purpose of sitting in quiet stillness Dear One. There is nothing to be done but to become an empty vessel into which the radiance of the Universe can pour its light through you and be made manifest in you.

There is nothing to DO. Just BE. Rest and be still awhile.

NOTE: This post is generously shared courtesy of https://nwol.us. Please feel to repost or share it with anyone you know who may be in need of a little added inner peace.

Me and My Marbles

My friends handed me an unexpected gift housed in a large white box on the occasion of nothing special. It weighed about three ounces, box, tissue, contents and all. After a brief shake of the mystery container, I concluded that it felt as if there was one marble rolling around in it. I was right. The tissue was the cozy nest of one lone marble. I guess they figured that I was just one marble short of pending insanity. They could be right. 

I promised that I’d save the gift, but when I tried to give them back the box, they insisted that I needed to keep my marble safely stashed away in the box so that I wouldn’t lose it—and I was to let them know where I had stored it, in case I needed help finding it later.   True, I’m beyond spring-chicken years old, and readily confess to being a little forgetful from time to time. But the same is true of my friends, and so I must ask myself—who among us hasn’t been pulled over in the loopy lane occasionally—particularly during these absolutely insane, mind bending, whacko times that we’re living in? It’s a wonder that any of us—even younger spring chickens—manage to hang on to all of our marbles all of the time.

I think we’re each entitled to a little forgetfulness these days, given all of the cosmic solar activity that has been bombarding the planet in an attempt to shake us awake to reality and raise our frequency whether we’re ready or not. No wonder we’re a little off. 

All of this off-ness reminds me that we have a choice about how we feel about the marbles that roll around our path and present themselves as life lessons. Are they welcomed, disregarded or looked upon with disdain? Are they received in love, with suspicion, or fear? Do we reject them, embrace them, or hide from them? Do we laugh or cry at the surprises and unexpected gifts that life puts before us? Can we stand back and simply observe without judgment? Can we accept whatever life throws at us with equanimity and good grace? Can we look beyond the apparent horrors that are happening in the world and recognize that perhaps they are a part of a divine plan to help us move into better world for all—and better versions of ourselves?  

Note to self: Buy a bag of marbles for friends who may need one.  

How lucky am I to have friends who help me keep my feet on the ground and love me enough to be sure that I’ll always have at least one marble, no matter what? Maybe that’s my job during these dark times folks—to do what friends and kind strangers do for one another—see a need and fill it, enjoy a laugh at our own human foibles, and reach out a hand in love to offer safe passage through this life of turmoil until we all arrive in the better place that we are promised—together as one.  Keep the faith my friends! The chaos will pass revealing a new world of light and love.  

The image above is courtesy of New Waves of Light (nwol.us), affiliated with A Tree of Light (atreeoflight.org) and The Coming One (T

Light Up Dark Corners

Buyer beware! What you are about to read—if you choose to read it—is unedited, uncensored, stream of consciousness stuff that bubbled up this morning as I sat myself down in my lazy girl, coffee in hand for my quiet time. You might love it, you might hate it, you might see bits of yourself in it, you might quit in the middle (I seem to be doing that a lot these days)—but in the end, I make my way back around the bend toward some semblance of sanity. Well, sort of.  (Begin rant)

Wow. Feeling overwhelmed. Serious sun flares happening. Dredging up pieces of my mind for me to see. Catalyst computer files. Made new one, moved it to desktop, it vanished. Can’t find it anywhere. My computer myself. A reflection of the disorderly state of my mind. A reminder that I don’t have myself in order. I need a remedial course in brain order. Distractions flood my days and things don’t get done. I’m behind on so much—phone calls to check on friends, blogs I’d like to write that disappear as fast as the vanishing file, catching up to do, volunteer work. It’s all a football field ahead of me. I’ll die with a disorderly computer. I’ll die with a disorderly mind. My computer, myself. Will I need an entirely new lifetime devoted to order? Maybe. Probably. On  the other hand, maybe my lesson in this life is to learn to live with the disorder and love myself anyway. Maybe it’s to focus on my strengths and not my weaknesses. But when my weakness stands in the way of my strength, it becomes frustrating and cumbersome. It gets in the way of me living my best life. (End of rant).

If sun flares and dark days are bringing up all of this turmoil within me—spiritually inclined soul that I am—whatever must it be doing to others who are not so inclined? Is this cause for the dreadful human behavior in the world? The shootings, the acting out, the road rage?

Is this why we are seeing such dark, ugly behavior? Is this why age-old deceit is rearing its head for all to see, giving us a bird’s-eye view of our choices in life—to decide whether we’d rather be ruled by the powerful, greedy money grabbers of the world, of if we’d like to stand strong and claim that power for ourselves? 

This morning, I was given a personally-tailored review of my own dark corners and I don’t like what I saw. Nope. Not for me. I may not be perfect in many respects, but when I shift my attention from the dark back into the light, I’m a whole lot better than I think. It’s time to wake up and redirect my energies back where they belong. Hanging out in the dark adds to the dark. Rejoining the light brigade strengthens the entire corps, not just for myself, but everyone else as well. 

Does this mean that as a conscious world citizen I am responsible  for the well-being of those who are struggling in the dark, who aren’t as fortunate as I am to know what I know? Is it my job to be my brother’s keeper? Must I carry him on my shoulders and claim him as my burden? Or can I help lift him from his struggles and fill his sagging spirit with light, love, and support until he is strong enough to walk on his own?

Oh, bring it on! Each uplifted soul uplifts another, and another. I take on the job joyfully, for every dear struggling soul who is able to catch just a tiny glimmer of light helps to light up the world. Am I my brother’s keeper? Yep. And he is mine. We’re all in it together because we are one.

From now on, friends, don’t be surprised if you see me take on a whole new intensified teachy-preachy attitude selling the power of LIGHT, LIGHT, LIGHT. Each individual glimmer adds to the whole, and when enough of us grab on and hold tight, the world will tip us all into a brand new adventure of light, love and joy. Hope and help are all around.

Oh wow—I just did a blog. Huh. How’s about that?! See what a little light in the dark corners will do? 

Before you go…..if you’d like to help spread light in a world in desperate need, please freely share this blog wherever you’d like.

Have a look at a few of the websites that shine a bright light into my world:

http://thecomingone.orghttp://atreeof light.org

We Are One

Speaking of family, allow me to sing a few praises about a community of bloggers I’ve never met, nor likely ever will. I’ve spent most of my many years on the planet in search of like-minded souls with whom sharing from the heart is the main topic of conversation. Mostly what I have found is that surface chatter, small talk, and gossip usually rule the day.

In these times of world crises and uncertainty, it would not surprise me to learn that more and more people are searching for a safe place in which to share from the heart and find comfort among others who are struggling with similar issues. If you are one of them, read on. If you’re not, read on.

Finding just one such person in real life (IRL—I learned that from Vicki) is like finding a ginormous gold brick in the middle of a mud puddle. Bloggers, however, seem to have an uncanny ability to be magnetically drawn together in a clump in some mysterious, mystical way. I figured that there must be some gold out there somewhere—I just didn’t know where to look. My search finally culminated in finding soul mates inside my computer in a world of bloggers, far removed from the dense physical plane of in-person 3D reality. Allow me to introduce you to my favorite blog platform and its creators, Vicki and Wynne . . . 

The Heart of the Matter blog platform was co-founded by two of my favorite Wonder Women, Wynne Leon and Vicki Atkinson. Along with eight other lovable bloggers, Vicki and Wynne regularly contribute articles for Heart of the Matter readers. Together, this talented group of writers has created a growing community of caring souls who speak their truth in words that resonate with me on many levels. 

THE HEART OF THE MATTER

The Heart of the Matter banner reads, “Here we write and talk about inspirations….our journey to discover what matters most.” Humor, poignant experiences and relatable first-person stories abound in a space of openness, honesty, vulnerability and authenticity. What is nearly impossible to find in real life is alive and well within the virtual reality of a blogging community of like-minded souls. It is a pure delight to be a part of such a loving, caring group within the virtual world, and nearly impossible to find IRL. If you’d like to taste test the love fest, check out The Heart of the Matter

WYNNE LEON

Wynne Leon is the extraordinary single mom of two, former courageous climber of very tall mountains, business consultant of techie things beyond my understanding, and author of the engrossing memoir, Finding My Father’s Faith”. Wynne, ever the Energizer Bunny, never ceases to amaze me. Her story of wandering away from the Christian family fold to find her own way on the spiritual path parallels the difficult road that I have also taken as I wandered away from my own Presbyterian upbringing. As the daughter of a devout Presbyterian minister, Wynne seeks and finds the unbreakable bond of love with her beloved father, and celebrates finding common ground in spite of differences. Wynne’s blog is Surprised by Joy.

VICKI ATKINSON 

Vicki’s resilient spirit shines through in her recent book, Surviving Sue.  Sue is an incredibly heartfelt, touching, and beautifully written memoir of Vicki’s life as the daughter of a seriously dysfunctional mother and developmentally disabled sister. Her ability to survive a broken childhood and emerge as a healed and whole human being is an inspiration and powerful testimony of her strength of character. I was sad when the I finished the last page, but glad that I can keep up with Vicki on her blog, Victoria Ponders.

VICKI’S BOOK REVIEW

I am beyond grateful to Vicki for writing an unsolicited, amazingly glowing review of my book“Voices: Who’s in Charge of the Committee in my Head?”. I didn’t pay her to do it, honest—but she did such a fabulous job that I suggested she consider a second career as a book publicist. Please read her review here. Vicki also wrote a pre-review of Voices which can be found on her blog,  Victoria Ponders.

(We interrupt this program to bring you an embarrassing little true confession. Do you remember reading that all things techie are beyond my understanding? In what appears to be a shameless act of self-promotion, all “Victoria” links point to her book review of Voices. I confess that I simply could not figure out how to link to the home page of A Heart of the Matter. I rest my case.) We now return you our regular programming…..

Now is a really great time on the planet to be looking for love. But if, like me you’re looking for kindred spirits and like-minded souls, you’ll need to look in the right places. So if you’re looking for love, look within first—you’ll find someone beautiful in there. And if you  need a little help from your friends (the ones you’ve never met), drop by and enjoy the daily lovefest at The Heart of the Matter

Who are we? We are family. We are one.

Lost and Found

Tis the season ho ho ho. 

Yep—it’s the season of crazy-making, decision-making, cookie-making, of running myself ragged trying to get it all done, of waffling between the gift-giving debacle and the remembrance of the reason for the season. I struggle to find a healthy balance amongst all, but I seem to be losing the battle, most likely because my inner chaos is affecting my outer world. It’s really tough to resist the temptation to take to my bed and hide until it’s all over. Can you relate?

The first clue that chaos rules is that I lost a set of keys. For days I’ve searched. No keys. Then, insult was added to injury with the discovery that a second set has gone missing. It’s a good thing that I have a third set, or I’d be locked out of my life forever.

Clearly, all of this seasonal crazy-making has knocked me off kilter. I have been neglecting the thing that is most important in my life, the thing that keeps me sane, that stirs my heart, that feeds my soul. I have lost myself—my Self—in the holiday fray. It has taken its toll in the loss of both sanity and keys.

A basic tenet of A Course in Miracles is that forgiveness is the key to happiness. Perhaps my keys will miraculously reappear if I can forgive myself for all of my sins (aka my silly stupid mistakes), and refocus on what is truly important. But apparently, before that  miracle occurs, there is something I must learn. Or relearn because I forgot. 

Now such a notion may seem ridiculous, but trust me—I am quite experienced in the lost and found business. This is not the first time I have been baffled by the mystery of the missing, but I have discovered that as soon as I figure out what the lesson is, lost items simply show up out of nowhere. Sometimes, I think that they become cloaked in invisibility, or slip into another dimension temporarily just to be sure I don’t miss a rich lesson of some sort along the way. 

So this morning as I was muttering under my breath about my dual key loss (well, maybe loudly complaining is more like it) it dawned on me. It’s time to stop focusing on what’s unimportant in the overall scheme of things, and start zeroing in on the only thing that truly matters.  

Love, hope, peace, joy, faith, compassion, kindness, Truth, beauty, and the awareness that we are more than meets the eye. We are not our bodies, we are not our skills or talents, we are not our personalities, we are not who we think we are at all. We are so much more. We live in dimensions that we cannot see, perhaps where lost keys go to keep company with the part of us that sometimes seem to be missing—our soul. 

Sometimes I get lost in the belief that I am something other than who I truly am, and I forget to remember what is important; then I lose my keys along with myself. If past experience serves, they will magically reappear once I get myself back on track and aimed in the right direction.  

But what is it that I have really lost? As I gain the willingness to emerge from under the covers and look for the light, I discover that what is temporarily missing in my life is the joy of doing what makes me feel good about myself. It’s the happiness that comes from doing whatever I can to bring light and joy into the lives of others. Instead, I have allowed the hustle and bustle of the season, and the gloom and doom of our current world to blot out the light.

Henceforth and hereinafter, I declare a moratorium on doom, gloom, hustle, bustle, and all things unhealthy to the magnificent human spirit and the soul that dwells within. Henceforth and hereinafter I vow to do my best to spread light and joy to all—each and every one, in whatever form that may take. Today that form is a blog. We’ll see about tomorrow….

Finally, speaking of spreading a little light, I feel called to share something that I recently received that lifts my spirits and gives me hope as we negotiate these dire times. If you wish to check it out, here is a link: The Coming One.

I wish you all love, hope, peace, joy, faith, compassion, kindness, Truth, and beauty at this most blessed time of year—and every year hereafter.

With love , blessings and a PS: Maybe now that I have pushed the publish button, the keys will appear. Ya think?  🙏🙏🙏

Tests, Trials and Tee Shirts

While searching through the morass of my computer files, I accidentally stumbled across a piece of writing that I did in 2005 BC (before Covid). Having come upon it again, I just couldn’t resist passing it on.

The scenario: It’s 11:00 a.m. on a Sunday morning in the busy Men’s Furnishings Department at Nordstrom. Customers are milling about waiting to be helped.  The phone rings, I answer. Big Mistake. A woman starts in . . . (I give you HER end of the conversation only). Note: All caps indicates that she’s screaming.

FINALLY!  Somebody answered the phone.

Do you still carry the Nordstrom tee shirts that are made in Canada?

That’s NOT what I asked.  Can you go check?

What other brands do you carry?

Where are they made?

Are they combed cotton?

What else do you have?

What is Underarmor?

Are they thinner than the Nordstrom?

Read me the label.

What do you mean, microfiber?

Read me the part about breathability again.

What size is medium?

What size is large?

Is the Nordstrom thinner than the Calvin Klein?

Can you wait while I go get one to see what size I have?

Can you wait while I try it on to see if it fits?

NO!  I CAN’T WAIT WHILE YOU ANSWER ANOTHER PHONE.  I’VE BEEN TRYING TO GET THIS DONE FOR TWO DAYS AND NOBODY COULD DO IT YESTERDAY BECAUSE THEY WERE TOO BUSY.  I DON’T WANT TO WAIT WHILE YOU TALK WITH SOMEBODY ELSE ON THE PHONE.  I JUST WANT TO GET THIS DONE SO I CAN GET ON WITH ANOTHER PROJECT.

Are the Calvin Klein’s thinner than the Nordstrom?

Okay, I’ll take a package of the medium Nordstorm. 

BUT LISTEN.  THIS IS IMPORTANT.

Do NOT send me the package you scanned.  You’ll have to scan one, then send me one that hasn’t been scanned because I can’t have anything that’s been scanned around me.

How do you ship them?  

What service do you use?

Do NOT send it by mail.  It has to be shipped, not mailed.

How long will it take?

Why will it take so long?  Last time they came in a day.

How much is shipping?

Why is it so much?  Last time it was only $3.00. Why is it so expensive?  I don’t want to pay more than $3.00 because that’s what I paid the last time.

What is the total?

NO.  I WANT TO KNOW NOW.  I CAN’T WAIT FOR YOU TO CALL ME BACK.  I JUST WANT TO GET THIS DONE SO I CAN GO ON TO ANOTHER PROJECT.

When will you call me back?  

You’ll call me back in 10 minutes?

LISTEN.  THIS IS IMPORTANT.

Do NOT ship in a mailing envelope.  It HAS to be shipped in a box.

Ship it signature required.

When will it arrive?

Her charge doesn’t go through.

I have an incorrect phone number, so I can’t call her back.  AAAARRRRRRGGGGGGG!  Is this a test? 

Obviously, she doesn’t get the shirts.

She calls the store manager a few days later and goes through the entire routine with him.  I forgot to void the original transaction so she gets charged twice

Fortunately, I kept all of the paper work.

She calls the manager again. In frustration equal to mine, he ends up wiping both charges from her account and sends her shirts are free.

Next year, she’ll probably call again and expect more free shirts and free shipping. I hope to God that I‘m not the one who answers the phone when she does.

Lest I forget, I go home and write the experience while it’s still fresh in my mind. The next morning, I showed it to a colleague. She asked for a copy to for her husband to read so that he’ll understand the sort of thing that we have put up with around here . . .

It isn’t always easy to face the fears of others in the face of our own, particularly during these exceptionally difficult times in which we live. Daily, we must choose between right and wrong, and decide how to behave under confusing circumstances that demand our attention. In the long run, it all boils down simply to one choice only: will I act in love, acceptance, and forgiveness, or will I allow judgment, fear, and anger to rule my mind?

Tee Shirt Lady surely did try my patience on that busy Sunday morning years ago. If this entire scenario occurred BEFORE Covid, can you imagine what in Heaven’s name those in the service industry must have to endure AFTER Covid? Pray for them and be kind. They need all of the love they can get. Don’t we all?

The Waiting Room

Déjá-vu.  If you’re curious about who you are, try waiting for a while.

There are nearly three hours to wile away at the dealership where my car is being serviced. I don’t mind. It’s what I do best—sitting, waiting . . . 

There are six of us in the room: two are on computers, two are on phones, and one is punching keys on an iPad. My computer is on my lap as I decide what to do next. iPad guy is wagging his head back and forth in what I can only assume is a response to the bad news that he is reading. The computer people are plugged up with ear buds. Intermittently, they drag out their iPhones for a quick look and poke away at keys. The room is completely devoid of eye contact.

Good grief. Where have we all gone? Off into a world of cyberspace as far away as we can get from one another. The cyber scene in front of me prompted me to put away my toys and opt for reading a book instead, Finding My Father’s Faithby a favorite blogger, Wynne Leon. A real, live, honest-to-God book with a cover and paper pages to turn. Another talented author, artist and blogger friend, Nancy Wait, makes the most of her name as she wiles away time spent on the subway by sketching marvelous images of sleepers dozing peacefully as she whips through the dark underbelly of New York City.

I sit and cool my jets while hanging out in a room full of noncommunicative people quietly absorbed in their various versions of electronics. Years ago in my Honda waiting room before electronics hijacked the world’s attention, quite a different story played itself out. Folks hid away in their  inner worlds reading newspapers or books or like me, sat quietly with eyes closed. My closed-eye peace was interrupted on one waiting-room day when a mom asked her small daughter if she’d like to watch TV. No matter that the kid was peacefully absorbed in reading her own book. Drat. So much for enjoying a moment of quiet stillness. 

The TV didn’t work. Thank goodness. From nowhere, the quiet readers sprang forth to assist, while I experienced an instant sense of resentment over the soon-to-be interruption. I consoled myself with the idea that this sweet little girl would probably enjoy something quiet, soothing—but no. Instead, she opted for a loud, violent scenario in which a building suddenly morphed into a ginormous unbelievably noisy and threatening robot intent upon destroying anything in its path. So much for assumptions. So much for reverie. So much for my wishes and my desires. Did anyone ask how I felt about this sudden shift in the disturbance of my reality? No. Did they care? No. Did I? Definitely!

As I sit in today’s Hyundai waiting room and wonder why I am writing this blog the answer creeps into awareness. It reminds me that life is like a waiting room—full of people who are strangers to us, each lost within his/her own head, each separated from one another by virtue of what goes on in the world of personal thought. It is easy to feel helpless in the face of situations that we cannot control, and frustrated by the decisions made by others without our permission—decisions that have a personal impact upon us. So often we are at the mercy of those around us in a desired world just beyond our reach.  

My personal waiting room is a wonderful place to see an infinite variety of souls and scenarios—some to my liking, some not. What a wonderful place to just sit and observe the contents of my world reflected back to me inside of my head. What a perfect opportunity to look into the crumpled fragments of my own inner workings and take care of the pieces that need a bit of smoothing out. 

Thank goodness for the kindhearted souls among us who rush in to be helpful—even if their help is not necessarily needed, wanted or welcomed by all. They provide me with a rich opportunity to look at attitudes and feelings that spring forth as a result of their good intentions. I may not be able to control the acts of others, but I can control my attitude. I can  decide whether I would prefer to react in anger or to respond with love and forgiveness. I can choose acceptance and peace of mind, or I can choose judgment and resentment.

Who am I? I am who I choose to be. 

Déjá-vu indeed. I’ve been in this waiting room for a very long time, and I think that it might be a very long time before I get back into my car and drive off into the sunset. I choose to be ready. While I wait, I want to do everything I can to graduate to the place where waiting rooms are nonexistent, and nothing exists but the unspeakably beautiful glory of what awaits us on the other side of the veil. Now that’s something worth waiting for!

As a final note, I’m happy to proclaim that this blog was started in the waiting room yesterday, finished in the Lazygirl today, and escaped the risk of being lost in the dumpster tomorrow (here). There’s hope for me yet. There’s hope for everything, friends. Keep the faith—and add your light to the vision of a waiting room filled with love, peace, joy, truth, beauty. Don’t forget to factor in the eye contact that allows us to truly see and appreciate another—and behold the best in all.

Baring my Soul

It feels a bit risky to make an out-loud bold profession of faith to the world at large about my personal beliefs, but I am going to take my heart in my hands and do it anyway. My proclamation should come as no great surprise to my very dear and loving ministerial family members and Christian friends who, I imagine, are already skeptical of my nontraditional spiritual proclivities. I also suspect that their suspicions may lead to prayers for the salvation of my soul. 

We all have our inner truth. Mine does not fall within the mainstream mindset of traditional religion. In my own mind (and perhaps in the minds of those who know and love me), I am a questionable Christian at best, and quite honestly, that’s probably sugar coating it. The truth is, that though raised a Protestant, I’m not sure that I can call myself a Christian at all, but I suppose that would likely depend upon one’s definition of Christian.

I confess that when I saw the above image of the Lord of my Heart standing in the clouds with His arms outstretched waiting to embrace me into the warmth of His love, I felt that I was being welcomed home. I want to sit forever at the feet of the Master and inhale his love, compassion, and wisdom. That’s the only thing in the world (or out of the world) that is truly worth wanting.

Now I ask you—does this mean that I am a Christian? Does it mean that I am not? Does it really matter?

What matters to me the most is that we—you, me, humanity—discover for ourselves the spark of divinity that dwells within our hearts. In my eyes, each one of us is a piece of creation that is the soul, and that one soul erases any sense of separation that divides us by the belief that we anything less than That.

In his blog Think2wice, R. Arthur Russell writes in his article, With:

“As this relates to billions of persons who are struggling to get along with one another, while living their apparently separate lives, the solution is deceptively simple: We must realize our Oneness. Who, realizing That which we truly are, would be prideful? Who, realizing That which we truly are, would be unwilling to forgive? . . .   We must clearly know—not just believe—that all persons of various colours, creeds, and nationalities are but apparent variations of the One. Thus, when we look at one another, we see our spiritual brother and sister.”

Does it really matter if we find the spark of divinity between the pages of a written text, or within the walls of a building, or within the heart? It matters only that we find it—not where. In my nontraditional understanding, Jesus the Christ dwells wherever we are.

I believe that He lives within the heart of every one of us who seeks to find Him, and that He patiently waits for us to discover that truth within ourselves. I believe that the sooner we—you, me, humanity—recognize that magnificent truth, the sooner we will be released from the hellish life that we are now living, and be set free to roam around in Paradise and live happily ever after.

If you haven’t already, please consider the wee possibility that maybe, just maybe each one of us does not just have a soul: we are a soul—yes, even the ones who bug us the most! Science has proven that we are energy, we are consciousness, we are connected. If we recognize and identify ourselves as souls rather than personalities, we will connect our one piece of the puzzle with the One Great Soul of which we are all a part.  

Once we manage that, we’re home free. We’ll slide gracefully from one world into the next with our eyes wide open, and be dazzled by the beauty, harmony, and love that will be our new home—a home we might call heaven. It all begins within our own heart.

Though my knowledge of theology and science is about equal to my skill as a techie, in my limited world of understanding, Christ comes bearing many names. In my world, his name is Love. I doubt that He cares very much about what we call Him—just that we call.

If we build it, He will come. When our hearts are constructed of love, we will experience a collective move out of hell into heaven. I’m ready! Are you?

PS: If you haven’t already, you may like to enjoy the comforting shelter of A Tree of Light website: atreeoflight.org. It truly is reassuring.

Oh—and please check out Voices: Who’s in Charge of the Committee in my Head? (Now available on Amazon and numerous other sites noted on Google).

 

Stories I Tell Myself

Sometimes a day without a blog is like a day without my morning coffee fix.  This is one of them.  A couple of days ago I wrote a blog about kindness.  Today it may be about love but who knows?  If not today, then maybe tomorrow or the next day.

But no, today is about the fake news I tell myself.  This morning I caught myself asking how I would manage to check everything off my daily to-do list.  Christmas is snapping at my heels, there are letters to answer, a birthday present to deliver, a blog waiting to be written, phone calls to return, decisions to be made, business to handle, and the beat just on going.   How ever will I get it all done?  

Well I’ll just do the best I can.  Yeah, but my best could be a lot better.  Uh oh.  I can always be better but I’m not.  That’s a downer if ever there was one.  When will I ever be better?  How will I get there from here and how long will it take? Oh but wait just a minute . . .

Well, I’ll just do the best I can for now.  There may come a time when my best improves, but for today, my best is my best and I’m happy with that, because I know that I have time and room enough to grow into a better version of myself tomorrow.  Ahh.  Now I’m better!  

As a wise person once said to me, “If you could do any better, you would.”  We all would.  We just need to give ourselves the space to dream up a new and better version of ourselves, and in time we will wake up and be surprised that we have morphed into the person of our dreams.  It’s such a gradual process that we may not even recognize the change within ourselves until one day when we look back and say, “Wow!  I’ve come a long way, baby!”  Thank God for that.  And thank God for time, space, room, and a vision to grow into.

While we wait for the great morph event, it is tempting to fall into the guilty trap.  I’m a bad person.  I’m not living up to my potential.  Instead of doing what I should be doing, I’m doing what I shouldn’t.  Guilty, guilty, guilty.  Why is it that forgiveness is so much easier to give to another than to ourselves?  Why do we berate ourselves for our perceived sins and keep ourselves hanging on the guilty hook when we readily and willingly forgive others?  Isn’t God quick to forgive us as we are quick to forgive others?  And yet here we are, continuously hanging onto our perceived wrongdoings in an effort to punish ourselves for our so-called sins.  Oh, please.  

One of my favorite spiritual teachings from A Course in Miracles is that there is no need for forgiveness because we have not done anything wrong.  If we have not done anything wrong, there is nothing to be guilty about, nothing to punish ourselves for, nothing to keep us from experiencing ourselves as anything other than pure, unadulterated love.  It may sound blasphemous, but it is we ourselves who have made up the fake news that we tell ourselves, and who believe our delusions of wrongdoing.  We are the ones with the power to return ourselves to sanity simply by denying the self-created fake news, the part of ourselves that would have us believe that we are less than the Truth of who we are, which is love.

Identify not with the external, personality, ego self that you think you are for it is fake news.  Instead, love yourself as the beautiful soul that you truly are.  Can you even begin to imagine what it would be like to live in a world of a soul-identified humanity?  Just as we know that a toddler is destined to grow into an adult, so must we trust and know that day by day, soul by soul, we are changing and growing into the version of ourselves that we are meant to be and we have a front row seat.  Please join the parade of the newly-awakening so that one day we can take a collective look back, and say, “Wow!  We’ve come a long way, baby!”

Ahh.  There you have it.  This blog is about love after all.  It just didn’t quite take the form that I thought it might.  Maybe tomorrow.  Or the next day.  Oh and by the way—I just crossed one to-do off todays list and made space for the next thing.  Hmm—what will be next?  A letter perhaps, or a phone call, or check all of the above?  Has my best just gotten a little better?  I think maybe so.  Yay me and hallelujah!  I’ve come a long way, baby!

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)

Goodbye to Guilt – Again

I must really be on a crash course on guilt-free living because apparently, it was the subject of my last blog written a couple of weeks.  That blog seems so far in the distant past that I forgot all about it, until I did a quick blog review, yet here I am again, still chipping away at the same old subject.  I guess I must still have a lot to learn, because I have given myself yet another opportunity to practice what I preach.  If you’re sick of reading about the subject of guilt, quick—push delete.  If not, check out Inching Toward Freedom and read on.

Yesterday was a useless, do nothing sort of day that highlighted my lifelong tendency to enjoy life in the leisure lane and take care of business whenever the mood strikes.  It was a day when I heard a few words emerge from my mouth that I later regretted.  They weren’t the kind of negative, damaging, words that would slice through someone’s heart had they been heard, but still, they were not words worthy of a soul seeking to understand, heed, and express the concept of living a life of harmlessness.  

It was the kind of day that invited guilt to move in and wipe out whatever enjoyment I might have experienced in my leisure.  Guilt—the master thief of peace of mind.

This morning I woke up with the realization that I did not do anything wrong or guilt-worthy, but rather, I did something that I would think twice about doing again.  It was a lesson, another learning opportunity to give me a choice about how and who I choose to be in this life.  It was another chance to practice self-forgiveness and have compassion for my still-human ways rather than contempt.  It offered a ‘what would Jesus do’ moment in which I was given another opportunity to get it right.  Guilt—the master teacher of how to turn sins into blessings.

Guilt and sin are partners in the creation of insidious treachery that ruins the health and well-being of body, mind, and soul.  They hide out deep within the psyche and strike when least expected, catching the vulnerable victim off guard, sending them into a downward spiral of negativity.  I did something wrong, bad, unforgivable, I am a flawed human being, I deserve to be punished.  I am a sinner therefore I am not worthy of happiness, or joy, or the  love of God or anyone else.  

Sin is a devastating word, in and of itself a guilt-producer.  I prefer to use the word mistake instead.  Is that a cop out?  Am I letting myself off the guilt hook by telling myself that I made a mistake rather than a sin?  Maybe.  Sometimes it’s easier to correct a mistake than it is to forgive a sin.  For that reason, I’ll always employ my lazy nature and take the easy way out. 

The benefit of my do-nothing, lazy, selfish yesterday screams loudly in my ear.   It gave me a reason to get up, get moving, and do better today than I did yesterday.  It also gave me something to blog about after a two-week hiatus.    With patience, diligence, and maybe a little help from my unseen friends, this will be the last blog I’ll ever be writing on the subject of guilt.  

It seems to me that the extent to which I indulge in guilt is directly related to the extent to which I am practicing self-harmfulness. No thanks. I’d rather indulge myself in love and practice the art of harmlessness for all instead. I’ll keep working on it.