Giving The Perfect Gift

I love giving presents! I love knowing what someone likes. There is a special intimacy about this knowing. It has to do with the art of observation. When you are around someone observing what they say, do, think, and feel, what they have in their homes, their hobbies, likes and dislikes, you find out what they care about and appreciate. Getting to know them and finding something that resonates with them is inspiring to me.

It involves the creative process. How do you best express what they care about in some form you can give them? Sometimes this translates into finding some “thing”. Sometimes it is best created by hand—or through someone else’s hands. The creative process is, to me, one of the most enjoyable parts of giving.

Once a form is identified the hunt begins. If it is an object—then the fun for me is finding it in a thrift store, garage sale, craft show or somewhere where there may only be one. This requires thinking outside the box—because you must stay open to the many different forms it might present itself. For instance, you may be looking for a dog bed and be presented with the perfect scarf that will make a dynamite top for a cover for a dog bed. You just never know what you will find and how that can be combined with something else to create the perfect gift.

There is another important dynamic when finding the perfect gift or materials to make a perfect gift. This has to do with the “feeling” of spending time with the recipient. This is quite an incredible thing. When you focus your thoughts and full attention during the hunt on a particular person and what they care about and like, you practically bring them along with you. It’s a very powerful experience.

So now you have figured out the perfect expression for what the person will appreciate and have found it or made it or created it in some form. This might be a song, or a photograph you’ve taken or some object you have found. Then comes the presentation. Is it going to be given in person, through mail, email, by another person? This is another time when creative thinking is required.

Sometimes a subtle presentation is best and at other times you can be more spectacular. Calling upon your knowledge of the person is the appropriate  when deciding on the presentation.

What I really enjoy a lot is seeing responses. I must admit, most peoples’ responses do not measure up to my expectations. Few have any idea of my process or the meticulous care I’ve taken.

Today I had my first scolding from a package I sent. I had carefully prepared a box filled with special treasures for my 90 year old friends’ Christmas. Knowing that they are not able to get out or cook treats I put together a whole box of fun things. A grapefruit. A calander with pictures of my masks. A CD of the piano music I have written during the year. Cookies. Candy. Christmas napkins. A picture of my granddaughter and me on her 1st birthday.

The rejection came in a letter  I misinterpreted as a thank you note when I saw it in my mailbox. I was told in no uncertain terms I was not to EVER send any presents. It made them feel obligated to send something to me and they weren’t able to get out to do that. Receiving the box brought up for them their place in life and ended up making them feel bad. That was certainly not my intention. I also missed knowing the generation gap and what they were raised to expect of themselves.

Overall, I have a pretty good average of giving perfect gifts. Maybe this one flub will be received better with a little time. Maybe not. All I know is that I really enjoyed sharing a little time this holiday season with them since they live several thousand miles away. Hopefully they will come to realize that I miss them. Perhaps they will even feel all the love that went into finding each treasure in that box. I don’t regret sending it to them. I feel as though I know them better now and will respect how it made them feel by not imposing another gift upon them. Hopefully the presents that I have found or made for other loved ones will be met with more favorable reactions. Because, for whatever reason, I love giving   wonderful gifts!

Over The Years

I spent Thanksgiving with a lovely couple who have been dear friends for over 30 years. The day started out like many others we have shared over the years. For some reason, I found myself pondering and paying attention to the dynamics of friendship. It’s about this topic that I want to muse...

Wikipedia defines friends as an interpersonal relationship between two people and friendship as a relationship between two people who hold mutual affection for each other. It goes on to say the value of friendship may be expressed as the benefit gained from a friend who is consistently demonstrating any of the following:

*The tendency to desire what is best for the other.

*Sympathy and empathy.

*Honesty, even in situations where it may be difficult      for others to speak the truth.

*Mutual understanding and compassion; ability to go to each other for emotional support.

*Enjoyment of each other’s company.

*Trust in one another.

*Positively strong, deep, close reciprocity, mutuality –equal give and take between the two parties.

*The ability to be oneself, express one’s feelings and make mistakes without fear of judgment.

Throughout my life I have been blessed with many close friends. I knew as early as 4 years old the value of friendship. What was most astonishing about this first  friendship was twofold: first, she was totally, unconditionally “there” for me, and secondly, our friendship opened up the possibility of the world for me—expanding beyond my family, giving me “difference” and “other”. Even then I felt the importance of friendship.

In every part of my life I have connected with people who have become a significant part of my life. It has been as though the people I have needed to be around me have always shown up. It almost feels like I am being divinely surrounded, guided, supported and protected.

What I was made more conscious of on Thanksgiving was just what friendship is. Friendship is an organic process. It has a life of its own with seasons for dormancy, growing seasons, and maturing and harvesting time. Friendship is like a seed that needs rich ground, sunshine, water, nurturing and time to grow. We as individuals bring these qualities to a friendship with another person. Each combination of qualities is unique and defines the relationship. We are drawn to certain people and repelled by others—but when we find “our people” the organic process begins.

The seed sprouts and begins to grow into a fragile shoot. During this phase of friendship everything is tenuous. This part of friendship can take a long time as trust is built and the common ground is cared for. At this point you don’t know if you are a cucumber or a zinnia. You have no clear idea where the friendship is going. This place in a friendship often includes lots of confiding and sharing – getting to know one another.

If the relationship feels good, exciting and interesting you will generally pursue it longer. If it feels cumbersome, not good and dangerous it is best not to put energy into it and to let it go. Possibly the thing that brings the most ease as a friendship develops is allowing the other person to be where they are and who they are. Differences between people bring to us the most contrast and growth as individuals if it is allowed to be.

Here’s what happened with my Thanksgiving friends: we went from where we were to a new place. Let me explain. Our sharing started out as usual with catching up on what’s been going on in each of our lives. This initial sharing felt light, fun, familiar and loving. The many years we have had to build our friendship has created strong roots and an unquestionable trust.

Suddenly, in the midst of our sharing, the creative process began to take over. This carried with it a high- energy visceral feeling. It was a combination of physical, mental, emotional and spiritual sensations and energy synergistically coming together and changing forms. We were all engaged in the conversation, each contributing pieces, stories and perceptions. With each new addition to the talking the energy expanded.

We spoke on many topics and with each new subject that was introduced the conversation changed and deepened. It became more vulnerable, more honest, more truthfully reflecting our core selves. The feelings that went along with this level of sharing were curiosity, stimulation, openness and trust, caring, gentleness, and fulfillment.

When I left their house and thought about my time  with them I realized I knew more about myself. They had reflected “me” back to myself in a new way than I had viewed myself before. I felt as though I’d been stretched out of my comfort zone and catapulted into another dimension. I had the feeling that I was now capable of reaching a much higher and mature level of friendship than ever in my life. The fruit is ripening on the vine and it is harvest time. I am humbled and deeply blessed. I love my friends!

Allowing...

I have been introducing myself for the past several months to the teachings of Abraham. As I understand it, Abraham is a group of Non-Physical entities who are channeled through a woman, Ester Hicks. Abraham is one of many who have come through to us at this point in our evolution to help us become conscious of our full potential. Abraham talks a lot about getting into a better feeling place which gives us new ways of looking at old ways of looking at life.

I had a perfect opportunity to experience this a few weeks ago. I have been playing in a new community orchestra which has an abundance of violas and cellos and not enough violins. In fact, for most of the time I have been playing with them I have been the only 1st violin. The pressure I felt carrying this important part for the entire orchestra took away a lot of the fun.

What happened a few weeks ago threw me totally off balance. An elderly man showed up at the beginning of a rehearsal and introduced himself as the Concertmaster. This actually was a relief to me. I sat down on the inside of the first stand and set my music up and began practicing difficult passages.

He came over, sat down and put his music on top of mine. I felt immediate large emotions, mostly relating to having spent weeks figuring out the bowings with all the strings and the conductor. I calmly told him that and added that the strings weren't strong enough, in my opinion, to make bowing changes so close to the concert. He stiffened and bristled as I talked and I felt a wall of rage hit me. "NO! We will be using my bowings," he said. I repeated my concerns and he belligerently and rudely maintained his "no" position.

I knew I was off balance and my emotions were quickly slipping into old patterns and not putting me in a good place. So, I got up and packed up and left. I did not do this out of spite and anger but because I wanted to re-balance myself. In the quiet of my car my resistances began to melt and be replaced with allowing. I began to feel better. The negative feelings had taken me away from who-I-really-am.

"Anytime you are feeling negative emotions --or anytime your experience is diminished in any way--it is only because you, in your physical form, because of your physical thought, are not Vibrationally up to speed with the expanded version of you. Releasing resistant thoughts and concerns brings you to the non-Physical alignment state of Universal Well-Being which means effort and trying are replaced with relaxing and allowing...a state where worthiness is not earned, but simply accepted." Abraham

By allowing myself to get out of the off-balance emotional space I was in I made room for higher vibrational feelings to come into my awareness. It took me several hours but eventually I got to an understanding of both our positions and began to see the situation in a totally different way. I went back the following rehearsal excited to play, relieved not to have to be Concertmistress and open to the man who I had perceived to be so rude. He, in turn, made a concerted effort to be kind to me and it was all good.

"Through this process, you will return to your Non-Physical understanding, and then problems will cease to be problems and will be seen for what they really are--life-giving opportunities for Eternal expansion." Abraham

A Day To Remember

My first memory was when I was 3 years old. My family was driving through Yellowstone National Park. I had fallen asleep in the back seat of the car. My memory is of waking up, looking out of the car window and seeing a moose. I have a distinct body memory of the beginning darkness of dusk, the rich green-lush magical world, the absolute silence. It was that experience that imprinted on me, heightening my senses and awakening my soul.

Yesterday I spent the day driving with a friend to Steamboat Springs. One of the amazing things about living in Colorado is being able to go to the mountains often. We drove through Rocky Mountain National Park both ways to and from Steamboat Springs.

As we entered the park I was flooded with the memory/experience that had taken my breath away when I was three. I could feel my heart quicken, my body begin to relax, my senses on alert. I rolled down the window. A blast of cool air filled with the intoxicating smell of conifer trees hit my face and nose. The feeling of letting go of my everyday world gradually followed. I was entering an old familiar place of hightened awareness anticipating sensual surprises that might present themselves.

The first animals we saw were elk. It was a sight I had never experienced. An entire herd of elk was migrating across a river in the early morning sun. They lowered themselves into the water without breaking stride and swam across, slowly walking up on the other side. There were females, youngsters, males with large racks and, bringing up the rear, the oldest male with a rack so enormous he could hardly hold it up. They grazed their way across the road in front of our stopped vehicle and were occasionally nudged forward by a high-pitched call from one of the large males. It was awesome!

After we continued our journey, we saw hawks catching currents, floating and gliding way above the trees. They would suddenly drop into a straight-down dive as they hunted unseen-to-us creatures on the ground. We also saw lots of squirrels and hundreds of tiny chipmunks scampering ererywhere. We even saw a rabbit by the side of the road.

As we climbed toward the tundra the conifer trees began to thin out. We began to see beautiful groves of huge aspen. Even though it is still August, patches of their gold leaves were shimmering through the sun beams.

When we reached the tundra and drove along the trecherous winding road, it felt as though we were on top of the world. We crossed the Continental Divide where the water flows East or West on our continent. As I was contimplating that fact, I looked out over layers and layers of mountains. The morning sun hit the various faces depending on the direction of the mountain. Pinks, blues, greens and greys popped out of the haze as far as I could see.

We started our trek down the other side. By this time the amazing beauty and lack of oxygen had put me into a state of joy and bliss. In between moments of silence I found myself smiling, laughing and singing at every turn of the road.

Then we spied her. A gigantic female moose was next to the road in a swampy area munching leaves. We quickly pulled over and got out to take photos and watch her. We had to be cautious, knowing moose can get aggressive. She was strong and I was surprised at how small and closely set her eyes were. She was simply magnificant! After she had munched a while she began to come up the embankment. We quickly got back in the truck and continued on.

We drove along the Colorado river and watched it meander in and out of the mountains. We curved our way back down from the tundra, seeing in reverse order shrubs, aspen and then the conifer trees surrounded by huge boulders.

We arrived at Steamboat Springs. Our destination, after getting directions from some locals, was an outdoor hot springs with seven cascading pools with progressively hotter water. The springs were surrounded by aspen trees that were so tall--when I floated on my back they looked like they touched to sky. After a marvelous soak it was time to start back...

To our amazement, the mountains on the way back through the park looked completely different than on the way over. It was raining lightly and gradually moving toward dusk. The mountains looked huge as they popped up out of the mist.

I lost count of how many rainbows we saw! At almost every turn was another breath-taking view of the mountains with an intense rainbow. It was totally magical and spectacular! We couldn't help but stop at practically every turnout to take photos. As we climbed higher and higher it got colder and colder until it was too cold to get out of the truck.

When I finally got into bed that night I felt fulfilled and deeply blessed. My body was relaxed and all my senses were humming. My emotions and mind were still and I was filled with a calm sense of contentment. My soul was fully awakened, aligned with myself in perfect balance. Just before I fell asleep I remembered my 3 year old experience of waking up and seeing the moose. I smiled...

Head, Heart, Hands, Health

Today, while I was out doing errands I found myself driving behind two large trucks. What caught my attention first was the metallic fringe decorating the back of the truck directly in front of me. Then when we pulled up to a stop light and they turned, I could see that the other truck was decorated , too. Both of them had signs saying who they were representing. They were both going to be floats in a parade.

Seeing them instantly took me back to my childhood. I was in 4-H for many years. Each year for the county fair we would create, build and ride on a float.

Creating it used imagination. I honestly think this was mostly done by the adults, although I don't know this for a fact. I just don't have any recollection of being part of that process. It would probably have been really enjoyable for me, but I don't think any kids were included.

Building the floats was a kid participation activity. We usually had to make a "skirt" around the edge of the truck and some scene that depicted a theme for that year. Usually the theme had to do with farming (past, present or future). Since we lived in a rural tiny town in the Mid-West this theme was very popular.

Because I was incredibly shy, riding on the floats presented many challenges. Some years we threw candy out to kids along the way. That wasn't so bad. The humiliating times were when we had to strike a pose or do something weird like pretend to churn butter. I remember one year we had to try to square dance on the back of the truck. We didn't lose anyone off the side, but it was a miracle we didn't.

My absolute favorite was the year my mother designed a fantastic float. There was a 6 foot in diameter globe of the world surrounded by us kids dressed in costumes from different countries. The globe was made of chicken wire that we stuffed with white crape paper with the countries done in a bright green. (The 4-H colors). The skirt was also made with the same materials. People said it looked like flowers when they saw it going down the street. It was by far the most elaborate, time consuming and amazing float we ever made.

Reflecting back on those years in 4-H as an adult brings a smile to my face. What strikes me,  is the strong sense of community the experiences we had offered us.

I always resented growing up in such a small town and resisted the farming community by going to bigger cities nearby for mostly music and dance activities. I don't think I realized, until I saw those trucks today, that I had been so involved in being part of a group as I was in 4-H. We were doing things in and for community. It has definitely given me pause for thought.

Now, I feel the importance of giving back to the community, earth, world. It  is why I'm so  fond of the concept "pay it forward". I understand and have great respect of people who volunteer their time and money for a cause they believe in. Even the littlest things matter, like being on a walk and picking up other peoples' trash.

4-H taught me as a child, through my group experiences, what it meant to be a part of something. I remember the emphasis in our club was on heart. We did a lot of caroling, visiting shut-ins and folks at the nursing home. Every year we picked a large project that would improve the community--like planting gardens at the public park. I learned that we are all connected.

This was one part of my youth that was filled with fun, creativity and lots of kids of different ages. We had meetings with the clear boundaries set by Roberts' Rules of Order. We worked together. There was plenty of opportunity to individually shine -- which was a reflection not only on you but the entire club.

I'm glad I followed those trucks today. It's brought back many pleasant and important memories...

Sentimentality

One of the things about my father that both fascinated and annoyed me growing up was that he was sentimental. He wasn't mushy--it felt different than that. He wasn't gushy, maudlin, sappy, soft or schmaltzy. It was more that he had a deep emotional affect to the things that happened around him. His response wasn't extravagant--he just seemed to have an extremely large heart.

Now mind you, this never involved me directly. Because he was a typical distant 1950's father I was never the object of any sentimental emotions from him, or for that matter many emotions at all. This was more evident with people in our small farming community when they were ill or had died, the loss of things, when something changed or anything to do with animals.

I remember when I was quite small going out to our farm to find a mother calf in labor with a breech calf. After working what seemed like a number of hours the calf was born dead. My father had large tears dropping on his cheeks all the way home, although he did not say a word.

This tenderness seemed quite foreign and a sharp contrast to our relationship which was angry, rough and empty of emotions. I distantly observed his reaction to others and couldn't help but notice what I would call "sentimental reactions" to things.

Partially because of our remote relationship, I seemed to take a more "middle of the road" with my own responses to others and things in my life. This was more comfortable for my personality and also provided me with the illusion that I was different from my father. I think this helped ease the pain that I wasn't even conscious of feeling.

This afternoon I opened my Facebook and there was a picture of my son's cat.   My son and his family are moving to London next week and decided after many discouraging calls to multiple airlines to find the cat a good home and leave him in the States.

I have to admit, my reaction to their giving away the cat was much larger than I would have expected. It surprised me how sleepy and almost depressed I became. I had a deep feeling of loss and a lot of sadness.

I began to wonder if the cat was a catalyst for getting me more closely in touch with the kids moving so far away. My reaction to the cat was just to big.

So, I have to admit--I am feeling sentimental. My mind is picturing all my lovely visits with my little Granddaughter over the last 16 months. I am going back into the past remembering just how wonderful it felt to be with all of them. My mind and emotions are also racing forward, tripping on the unknowns of the future. Will I get to see them? Will my grandchildren get to know me and me them? How will I ever make this situation work?

When I finally bring myself back to the present--there it is again: I am feeling sentimental. No matter how hard I am trying to be different from my father--this response is the same as his. And it somehow seems okay with me. My heart is enormous and heavy and feels as though it will burst. And, yes, tears are running down my cheeks...

 

Friends

I have been blessed with many friends in my life. I distinctly remember when I recognized my first friend. We were 4. In my overly-protected world I had only gone to relatives’ homes. It is impossible to express in words my excitement when I walked the long two blocks to her house. I was fascinated being in a new home with different people, things, rules and feelings. I was aware of the experience of “other”. During the time I spent there I could actually feel my world expand. I can’t explain how exactly—after all I was only 4 years old—but there was a sense that my world would never include just my family and it had a profound effect of me. I knew instinctually that friendship was something very powerful and special.

There was a small group of friends that went to school with me from kindergarten through high school in the tiny town where I grew up. When I think back on them I realize they gave me total acceptance, encouragement to be my best, support with my family during adolescence, and unconditional love. I depended on their steady, grounded, caring and wonder if I’d have survived my childhood without them?

College brought more friends into my life, as did my young adulthood. After living eight years in Upstate New York, I moved to Colorado just as I turned 25. This move challenged me to try to figure out how to maintain friendships long distance. This took an unbelievable amount of energy and work. At that time there weren't texts or email, which narrows the distance today. Then, it took phone calls, trips back and forth, letters and a lot of faith to keep  friendships alive and happy.

At the same time I was trying to maintain friends in Upstate I was joyously making many, many new friends in Boulder. The thirteen years I lived in Boulder were the most abundant for making friends in my life. I really appreciate now, after being away for over twenty year and returning to Colorado to live, what history in a friendship adds. As I re-acquaint myself with them I am having the astounding experience of realizing that I have known, cared about and loved many friends for over 30 years. It is this history that brings with it an extraordinary sense of continuity and consistency that I don’t have with any other aspect in my life.

I have been thinking a lot about friendship. I can honestly say that friendship is the most satisfying part of my life. Friends have helped me practice loving unconditionally, keeping clear boundaries, keeping my own council, trusting, sharing feelings, ideas and dreams and about accepting change. As I have grown in my relationship with myself and come to know myself better—I am better at being a good and healthy friend. Fortunately, I have friends who have also worked hard on themselves, which makes what can seem insurmountable with some people obsolete with my friends. Our friendships have developed over the years into a “safe haven”—a place I can “be” my true self.


The ultimate wonder about friendship and what is most enjoyable for me is the very fascination that I had with my first friend: the phenomena of having my world expand and change. This can include seeing things with a fuller view with fresh and different perspectives. There are times I feel things so deeply when I am with my friends I  experience my heart opening. I love when ideas are presented that spark the creative process and there is a mind-stretching sharing that happens that keeps building as though it will go on forever. And then there is the pure sweetness of being loved, nurtured and cared about with no conditions, judgments or expectations.

Yes. For me, friendship is the BEST! I have come to thrive on it, enjoy it, live for those times it grows. Just thinking about it makes me laugh right out loud. I feel absolutely, abundantly blessed. There is no doubt about it, with my friends is my favorite place to be.

Experiencing the Moment

I have been aware for many years about "being in the moment". Meditation, yoga, walking, nature, swimming, and playing music are some of the ways I have practiced to get myself centered and quiet. Having the ability to get centered and still has been invaluable. For one thing, I can deal with stressful things that come up in my life with some ease. Recently, though, I have become aware of another level and that is what I want to explore in this blog.

Being in the moment has meant struggling with the challenge of the duality of dealing with the feelings from the past and projection of feelings about the future. This could be said to be anger (past) and fear (future). Sometimes one is predominate and at other times the opposite end of the spectrum takes over. Either way, the feelings get huge and almost paralyze me from actively being in my life.

I have been quite annoyed with the suggestions I have read over the years about dealing with anger. This most often-given solution is forgiveness. This has always bothered me--possibly because it hasn't worked for me. It has seemed to me that forgiving bypasses the feelings which quickly resurface. What good is that in dealing with strong feelings?

A more successful approach to dealing with anger for me has been thinking about anger as a signal to tell me "what I don't like" or "what isn't okay with me". This points quickly to what I need. This way of thinking helps moderate my feelings and refocuses the angry energy into what is really going on. The only limiting thing about this approach is I have to remember to do it and in the midst of the gigantic feelings it is difficult to stop and think. It is possible and gets better with practice, it just is not 100%.

Fear is another out-of-control monster. It quickly zooms me way into the future with seemingly little possibility of getting back to what is happening in the now. I have tried a similar thing as with anger, but asking myself the question "what do I need?". Again, this is primarily a thinking activity and requires more than a little consciousness to stop the feelings and ask the question.

Dealing with enormous feelings with thinking has been, therefore, pretty unreliable. Even with knowing how to get quiet and centered, the massive size of my feelings have continued to rip me out of the moment into the past or the future in micro-seconds. This is where my new observations enter...

It has become apparent to me that my feelings are the secret to "being in the moment". Instead of fighting with them and trying to "think" them away, what would happen if I let myself go into them and actually "experience" them? I tried this the other day and will try to describe what happened...

I was going along in my day, "la la la", centered, happy and doing well. Then a friend called me and told me she was not going to get an apartment with me in the summer as she had found another living situation. Bamn. I was in the past and in the future simultaneously going eighty miles an hour with the brake on. My anger encompassed more than my feelings about my friend and her decision, it went back through my life. I was angry at all the times I have had to move. I was angry at all the people who were involved with those times of change. I was angry at myself for the decisions I have made that put me in the position I'm in. I was just plain angry at everything and everybody!

And fear!!!! That was totally over the top!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I could barely breathe because of my fear feelings. I was so overwhelmed with all the feelings about the future and how inadequate I felt to deal with it, that I couldn't function. All I could do was sit down and try to breathe.

Then it occurred to me that I was split between the past and the future and neither was helping me out in the "now" moment. It took me a while to bring myself back. Once I did I realized that I could take my "experiences" of having those feelings and work with them. Immediately I found that the experiences were telling me that I was in a serious state of "lack". And suddenly I knew what I needed to do. Gratitude.

I began to let myself feel grateful for all  I have and all that I have had in my life. I felt grateful that I am living my life fully and that I am happy. I am healthy. I am free to think and feel however I want. No one is hounding me to do or be something I am not. I have a good life and am loving it. Letting the experiences of the past and the future bring me to this different and new place was a miracle. I suspect that experiencing is why I am on the Earth and what I am to learn  to reach my highest human potential. That's how important this is.

Now, I know this may sound odd, but I assure you, it is changing my life for the better. The fantastic thing about it is experiencing by-passes thinking and uses the energy from the feelings to help me get to a better place. It gets me to a place in the "now"--in the moment--where I can come up with solutions, or at least am open to solutions coming to me. Give it a try...and let me know how experiencing your life works for you.

The Anniversary of Sybil’s Death

The twenty-third of March was the first anniversary of my niece’s death. She was pregnant with her first child, had a stroke and went into a coma because of complications from preeclampsia. Her son, Jack, was delivered by C-section on March seventeenth and Sybil never recovered. It amazes me how the anniversary of a person’s death brings up so much emotion and grief. I knew all year that I was sad and grieving but I was not aware of how much until the first year rolled around.

When I am feeling grief I am not just experiencing the loss of Sybil. I am dropped into the very pit of despair. It is as though I am touching the reservoir of loss itself. I experience long-held fear and doubt and grief that have always been there. I want to push the feelings away because they are so unpleasant. But grief holds me until I begin to soften around it, accept it, and get in touch with things about myself I probably would not have had access to without it.

The tendency I feel with grief is to close in on myself. The only relief seems to be found in the silence of solitude. And yet, what grief demands of me is to open. It does everything in its power to get me to open my heart. Loss puts me right smack in touch with what is important in my life. Even though closing in is an attempt to protect—it doesn’t work for long. My rational mind tries to understand what really happened even though it cannot truly know the meaning of life and death. But my heart, if I can keep it open, seems to find its own intuitive way.

Grief comes from trying to protect anything from being what it is…from trying to stop change. Each one of us experiences our humanness to the degree we can open to our joy and sorrow. It is from this humanness that we come to watch the constant change and changefulness of the mind. We see the whole world reflected there and we notice that everything ends. Every thought ends. Every feeling ends. Each taste, each moment of hearing, each seeing ends. It has never been otherwise. Every experience, every relationship ends. Moment to moment, change unfolds.

Our experience of life is the experience of change. Everything that has a beginning has an end. Nothing stays the same. In this flow of change, there is no real or solid place on which a lasting foothold can be taken. Every moment is precious. Every moment is just as it is and nothing needs to be otherwise.

When we recognize that all we have is this moment, then life becomes important and we open to it just as it is. Our loved ones, our children, our friends become so precious. Life takes on new meaning. Each moment becomes a whole lifetime, a universe unto itself. Our priorities change, our heart opens, our mind begins to clear of the fog of old holdings and pretending. What truly matters becomes very apparent. We are no longer “a victim of life.” Every experience, even the loss of our dearest ones, becomes another opportunity for awakening.

I am deeply saddened by Sybil’s death. The gift is in being reminded that each moment is important. The pain of opening the heart to loss is countered by opening to loving everyone and everything in my life to its fullest. The longing for what was becomes simply a part of this moment and there is nothing more than that. I miss Sybil and am allowing myself to grieve and heal. That is part of the great mystery of life that her death has brought into my awareness. I offer her my blessings for bringing me to these realizations.

"Feeling" Memories

The mind plays interesting games when it comes to our remembering memories. It can overload us with lots of information: with words reminding us of the time of day, who we were with. It can flood us with a running commentary on where we were and what was happening. Or, to be mischievous and trying it can offer us one word that is impossible for us to remember. The word unlocks a plethora of memories, all of which we can remember. We know the word we’re looking for but can’t call it up. Sometimes it might take several days for the word to pop up, and this often happens in completely random moments. We’ve evidently been working hard subconsciously on getting it.

While the mind can be quite helpful, the body does a much better job remembering experiences. Pictures dominate and re-fill us with a sense of wonder and awe. The body remembers the temperature of the air on the skin, the smell and touch of the sun and the day, the tastes—salty, dry, pungent, sweet. The body provides us with the feelings we had in our stomach—relaxing or tightening—and gives us the overall feelings we were having of happiness, sadness, anger, fear. From the tingle in the toes to the sweat on the brow—the body is excellent at remembering.

Last night I was talking with a friend about visiting the Grand Canyon. I have been 4 times, the first when I was 5 years old and the other times as an adult. As soon as the Grand Canyon was mentioned my mind started giving me information. It went on and on about the four times I had been there, who had been with me, what we did and on and on and on.

Then the oddest experience happened. My body took over and started giving me information about the last time I was there. I remembered an astoundingly red sunset hitting the rocks of the canyon making it look like a painting. I remember the temperature on my skin as it dropped with the onset of nighttime. I have a sense of who I was with and pleasant feelings about our conversation (although I don’t know what it was about). I can recall feelings of happiness and of wonder at the immensity of the sky and the canyon. I was able to remember so many things because of the information I was getting from my body and my senses.

The experience the body memory gave me carried with it a lot of energy. It put me back into the memory as if it was happening in the present. My world stopped momentarily and all there was was the Grand Canyon sunset. It took my breath away.

When I was brought back, my mind jumped in. It talked about the changes that had been made to the park since I was little, the large numbers of people who now visit it, and complained about the amount of time it took to drive there. My mind was rather cranky!

I realized that nothing my mind was talking about was helping to bring the memory into the present. It was all focused in the past and the future. When my body gave me the experiential memory, I re-experienced it in the moment. No wonder it carried with it more energy.

It takes practice to listen to the body. I have to remind and allow myself to tune into my body and listen to my senses as the memories come up. I have to let the memory relive itself in my body. With the body fully engaged, the memory can be as vivid and real as if it were happening right now.

The mind has its place. I find when it comes to memories it is important to train the mind to work with the body to provided helpful, reinforcing information. Perhaps the best scenario would be a combination of the two—working together to fill in the gaps that each alone might have missed or forgotten. The mind would substantiate the body’s experience and the body would bring the mind into the present making the memories even more experientially vivid.

I like to remember the good things that have happened in my life that have been important. I like bringing the gestalt of the experience into the present. I like the details my mind provides and the "feeling" memories my body brings from my senses. Mostly I like to replay pleasant memories and let myself re-experience them fully.

Living a Spiritual Life

Today I am looking out at a dreary gray day in Colorado with tiny, nearly imperceptible snowflakes coming down. The cold and dampness does nothing for my desire to do much of anything. My usual creative, motivated self is shirking from any activity that I think of. I feel somehow disconnected from my true self—off-center and a bit beside myself.

Just writing those words begins to wake me up. I look at what I wrote: disconnected from my true self, off-center, beside myself. The red flags go up and I am onto something BIG. I have lost my connection to the Divine. I have stopped living my spiritual life and have sunk into a hum-drum life that I lived in for so many years.

The way it used to be felt “normal”. I was preoccupied with all things physical: how I looked, how what I did would be perceived by others, money and “things”. It was not a very satisfying way of life but it was what I had learned growing up.

The main thing I remember about that life was the amount of worry that it produced. It was a world immersed in the future and the past. The stress caused by worry was enormous and I never got away from it. It was a world of lack that I created and lived out. There was never enough. Not enough time, money, friends, work, love. In it, there was no connection to anything greater—no Spiritual life at all.

When I was very young I remember distinctly being connected and living a very Spiritual life, although I didn’t have the words or concepts to understand it. I spent the majority of my time in nature. I can’t guess how many trees I climbed and how much time I spent in them. I played, used my imagination, spent time with friends, prayed and hoped and dreamed in the trees. I was totally aware that there was something greater than myself that was guiding, protecting and loving me.

When did I lose track of that and begin the life of worry? It was probably around adolescence. I don’t remember exactly as it was probably a gradual movement away from Spirit instead of a sudden shift. But, to be sure, I made the transition and it wasn’t a good one.

I lived in that hollow, empty place for years. Sometimes I would get glimpses of Spirit. Playing music, cross-country skiing, certain moments with family and friends, people dying, and nature all reminded me fleetingly that there was something greater than myself that was missing from my life.

Then, there was another shift back to being connected. Or was that a gradual awakening, too? It came about after I lost everything, including my sense of self. In the place of nothingness and in-betweenness I again began to feel that I was not alone—that there was something greater. The life of Spirit came flooding in. At first I didn’t feel I deserved it. Then I gave into it and was filled with love and abundance beyond anything I had ever known.

I began to live my life with this fullness as my guide. Living in the moment became a beacon of light and I was at the center. At first, it was a very strange experience but then, like this morning, the truly strange feelings signaled that I had wandered off the path and lost my connection to the Divine. The feedback system is now firmly in place and it doesn’t take long for me to miss the good feelings of being connected.

I am humbly graced to be able to live in this amazing state of being. Oh yeah, it isn’t all the time. Mostly I try for 10% of my day. But that is a lot and I feel blessed for the opportunity to be there when I am. Now when I look out on the day I see the beauty of the specks of snow floating down, hitting the ground and turning into damp spots. I am back living my Spiritual life again. I think I will take my dog for a walk and smell the wonderful earth.