1/31/14—Contemplating Extinction

Looks like someone needs a new fishin' spot.

There's a special place along the river where I like to sit and just be. Years back I had a habit of going to this particular spot a couple of times a week. It's within a heavily wooded shoreline and the trees on either side of the sittin' spot frame the river and view perfectly. It was cool to see the seasons change from that same vantage point. Spring to summer. Summer to fall. Fall to winter.

I must have started there in spring, because I enjoyed quite some time there before the littering started. Then every time I would go to this spot back in the woods, there would be soda bottles and bait cups and all manner of chip bags strewn about. The fishermen didn't even try to bag their trash. They just left it—and the bags it came in—where they used it.

So each time I visited, I brought a trash bag. And I picked their trash up. And I deposited it in the trashcans back in the parking lot. The same trashcans the litterers passed every time they came there to fish. And after a while I started thinking, "they probably think a fairy comes by and cleans up after them. So I'm really just enabling their behavior."

Gaia killed the dinosaurs for less.

I thought of making a sign and posting it on one of the trees. Instead, I just visited less often. And after a while, I grew so weary and disheartened that I just abandoned the spot altogether and found another.

After a month or two, it was spring again and I missed my spot. So I thought I'd give it a try. I loaded up with trash bags and hiked back into the woods to my special place, braced for all the trash I would find there. But there was none! Nothing!

I plunked down in my spot and took in everything. The sun sparkling on the river. The beauty of the opposite shoreline. The ducks and ducklings paddling by. And I looked up to see the fresh green leaves on the trees overhead and....there were at least three fishing lines and hooks caught up in the branches. It seems that, when the leaves started to come, the canopy prevented the fishermen from casting their lines!

At first I chuckled at Mother Nature's brilliance. Then it hit me. There I was worrying about saving the planet when we should all be worried about saving ourselves! Mother Nature was here billions of years before us. She survived methane air, the dinosaurs, geomagnetic reversal and all sorts of scary crap. And she came out of it looking pretty darned awesome and bountiful.

It's time to start calling a spade a spade. The earth isn't in any danger from our emissions and littering. We are. Instead of talking about climate change, we should be talking about species change. Because soon it will behoove her to choke us out, rather than suffer the case of the sniffles we're inflicting on her with our holes in the ozone and non-biodegradable toxin-infused trash. In 100 years, she'll have covered all evidence of us being here. In 1000 years, she will have recovered from our actions. And in 10,000 years, they'll have to use sonar and soil samples and carefully calibrated instruments to even know we ever existed. And Mother Nature? She'll have aged the equivalent of maybe two human weeks. 

This is an unfortunate reality of most urban shorelines.

Of course, we don't choose to see it this way, but what's going on here is a war. It's humans vs. Gaia. And we somehow have the arrogance to think we could possibly win when 99.9% of everything that's ever lived on this planet has lost. Who's the only one that's won? The gentle, unassuming ferns, that's who! To the earth, we're just another self-important species going extinct. Like the Cave Lion, T Rex and Quagga. What's a Quagga? Critters will be asking the same thing about humans a couple hundred years from now. 

So this week, consider what's really at stake with the choices you make each day—and beyond your relationship to the earth. Consider other things you may have a skewed perspective on. A pet owner may think nothing of letting their dog run off leash—until it gets hit by a car. A person may think nothing of smoking cigarettes—until they get lung cancer. A husband may think nothing of having a passing affair—until he loses his wife and children.

There is something ingrained in the human psyche that a) makes us think we're the most important and powerful thing on earth b) makes us seem beyond extinction as a species and c) allows us to justify and/or blind ourselves to things we KNOW are wrong or against our best interests.

As far as the things we justify are concerned, we know what those things are because they're the things we don't openly discuss with others. So start there. What wouldn't you tell your cubicle mate about your life? And how can you turn your thoughts around on that so that you clearly see what's at stake?

There are spiritual folk who believe earth is just one of many places a soul goes to learn lessons. And they say earth is the most beautiful and difficult of all those places. It would suck to cut your time short here only to end up in some brown, chalky, dimly lit desert in the next lifetime. We could all do well by sparing a moment to take inventory of what it means to be worthy of this place, this body, this opportunity and this gift we call life.

(Reposted from 2/12/12)

1/29/14—Letting Clouds Pass

Cloudy, gray sunset.

Last Friday we talked about how clouds make the sunsets more interesting and colorful, as do the "clouds" that come along in our lives. Last night's sunset kind of expanded on that. 

See, it started out all overcast and gray. And I was pretty sure the sunset would suck. But then I saw a tinge on pink on the bottom of one of the clouds and thought, "well now". Then minutes later, the sunset exploded into fabulous color. 

This reminded me of what happened at my last job. I said the wrong thing at the wrong time to my boss and she, in turn, completely handled the situation poorly and it became clear my days were numbered. So the skies on that day seemed pretty gray. But almost immediately it occurred to me to become a freelancer. The gray clouds got a tinge of pink. Then days later, I gave my notice. And, since then, it's been one wild, colorful, spectacular sunset! 

Kinda. :)

A hint of pink lines the gray.

It has certainly resulted in the best years of my professional life. So the very best thing that ever happened to me started out as gray skies. For some, the very best thing started out with a spouse leaving them. Or catching a disease. Or like something that happened as a result of an old friend's actions many years ago.

My friend drove drunk on New Year's Eve and it resulted in a boy's leg being severed from his body. She went to jail and hasn't lived a day of her life without thinking about that. But this boy contacted her 20 or 25 years later and told her losing his leg was the best thing that ever happened to him. He was going down a bad path and it was just the wakeup call he needed. Today he has a wife and children and he doubts that would have ever happened had he not been in the "wrong place at the wrong time". 

The sky explodes into glorious color.

Sometimes our gray clouds don't show their pink edges immediately. And sometimes the pink edges are very subtle and hard to see. But I can't think of anything that's happened in my life—even the really bad stuff—that didn't end up with pink edges and even spectacular color. 

We tend to think of things in terms of winning or losing or of whether or not the universe is on our side. But in the end, there is no loss. There is no such thing as an unsupportive universe. There are just people who prefer to live in perpetual victimhood. That sounds harsh, but the fact is that what you take away from an experience is your choice, not your fate. 

You see this in the video of the guy with no arms or legs who turned his disability into an extraordinary ability to inspire. And through the young girl singled out and shot by the Taliban for promoting education who, after recovering her ability to walk and talk, took her fight to a much larger and more powerful audience. And through John Walsh, who used his son's kidnapping to create a national sex offender registry and the precursor to the "Amber Alert". There is no telling how many lives have been saved or criminals captured as a result of this man's gray clouds. 

All these people turned their gray clouds into spectacular shows. Really, what challenges do any of us have that compare? There is a win in every loss we have...a bigger plan than we can ever imagine when we're down. Last night I waited about 15 minutes to see why the gray clouds had to be that way. Whatever you're going through may take longer. But it will change and the beauty of it will be revealed. All it takes is trust and making the choice to turn your eyes towards the gift.

1/27/14—Waking to the Cardinals

About 45 minutes to an hour before sunrise.

The weather people said the sun was set to rise at 7:19 am. I've come to learn that what they mean by that is the sun breaks the horizon at 7:19. But by the time the sun breaks the horizon, the show is most of the way over. 

Before the "sunrise", the dark blueness of the sky spills slowly out. One by one stars "shut the light off" for the night. A redness starts to build at the edges of the earth. The streetlights turn off. The sky goes to light blue. And while the moon is still visible, it's also pretty darned light out. All before the appointed 7:19 "sunrise". 

The pre-sunrise is cool because there's a palpable stillness to the world just before things start to go light. Then you might hear a chirp or two off in the distance. Then the streetlight that annoys me with its bright light in my line of sight of turns off. Then all hell breaks loose. One by one, species of birds awaken. The first squirrel sets out on his daily rounds. You might start to hear cars on the roads. Like us, the earth is a little groggy when it first wakes up, then it hits its stride. 

This morning I heard a really loud caterwauling somewhere in the neighborhood. As I listened, I tried to remember what it reminded me of. Then I remembered it reminded me of the early morning before I put my dog Passion to sleep. We'd heard the same noise. I wondered what kind of bird it was and, just as I wondered, I heard the sound again. This time it was very close. And as I turned to look, there was my cardinal friend, sitting on one of the branches it usually sits on. 

He sat there for a good couple of minutes, making a sound I didn't know cardinals made. Then he started making the usual cardinal sound and I listened for his mate to reply. This couple frequents my back yard, so I know that wherever the male is, the female isn't far behind. 

My best picture of the moon and some pink
clouds, still a few minutes before sunrise.

"They" say that when you see a cardinal, it's a visitation from a loved one who has passed. In this case, I think it was my dog Passion, because that's what it made me think of (other times I've felt a cardinal was my brother.) It feels like she's been around a lot lately. Because of the way things played out—I heard the sound, thought of Passion, then the bird squawked closer—I felt it was a clear sign. So I asked in my head what she wanted me to know. And what I heard back (in my head) was that I was being watched over and everything was going to be OK. That was a nice thought to have prior to sunrise. :)

I poked around online to get statistics about how many people believe in life after death. I found a huge range of results. 34%, according to a Fox News story, 51% on a Reuters poll and 76% on this Huffington Post poll. When you consider that, in order for anyone to go to heaven there has to be life after death, I'm guessing at least half believe. 

But that doesn't speak at all as to how many people think we can get messages from beyond. Certainly that number is lower. My experience reading tarot is that, even if people don't believe in it, they still want to get a reading. And they still hang on every word. This makes me think they may be less of a non-believer than they claim to be. I think the same thing is true when it comes to ghosts and messages from those who have passed over.

You don't need a sixth sense to communicate with loved ones who have passed. You just need the five senses you already have. They'll let you know they're there through scent, like a wafting of perfume from nowhere. Through sight, maybe manifesting in form or making lights flicker, for example. Through sound, perhaps in the form if a song that reminds you of them or your name whispered in your ear. Through touch, you might feel a room get colder, get a tickle in your ear or feel a burning on your face. Taste...well, taste isn't as common, but it's possible. 

Mediums frequently "see" them in their mind's eye, "hear" them telepathically and they might "taste" blood, feel the pain of someone's death or smell a flower. In short, our deceased loved ones try to communicate in many ways we can readily understand without any special skills. And when these things happen, stop to remember that you can ask them why they're there or what they have to tell you. You should hear an answer in your head. You might think you're making it up. And maybe you are. Or maybe they put the thought in your head. 

In the end communicating with deceased loved ones takes the same skills it did when you related to them as living beings. Included in that is trust. As you trusted them then, you need to trust that what you're hearing/thinking/seeing now is true. The more you notice these "odd coincidences", the more you start to see more than just coincidence is involved. Can you imagine being dead and expending so much energy to turn off lights and make birds fly to your loved one and whatnot, only to have them ignore and deny you're there, time after time? For that reason alone it's worth at least entertaining the possibility.

Even if you're a believer, the relationship and lines of communication won't be the same as when they were here. But for me, it's better than the nothing that those who don't believe get. What kinds of signs have you gotten?

1/24/14—Reflecting the Sun's Light

Today's fabulous sunset. And this was just the beginning.

I'm getting a lot of inspiration from sunsets these days. I didn't really plan on making it an almost daily hobby to sit on my front stoop and watch the sunset. But that's what it has become. And taking that extra time (I already sit outside most mornings and before bed) has made a huge difference in my wellbeing lately. Today it was about 20 degrees out with a moderate, persistent wind. There I was, in a tank top and a blanket, sitting bare-footed on my concrete stoop for an hour (fingers FREEZING as I tried to take pics). :D

Most of the time my boy, Kizzie, joins me. He's got executive privilege in the house. He's the oldest, so he gets the biggest treats AND he gets to sit outside on the stoop with mommy. The other two dogs would try to attack every leaf that blew by, so he's really my only option. Besides, the poor boy is the only male in a house full of girls and he is often shoved aside by much younger rivals for mommy's attention. So I do what I can to give him extra snuggles and consideration.

Anyway, he wasn't out there today because, on my
way to the door, a spinning, gyrating, leaping Manic Mystic managed to break one of my crystal ringing bowls. These are very expensive things. I was disappointed and, while not angry per se (it's my fault the bowls are where they are...the dogs bump into them all the time) I lost my taste for dogs for the moment. It wasn't fair that Kizzie had to pay for Mystic's mania. He was upset to miss "our time." So I feel bad now. But in the moment I wasn't in the mood for dogs.

Yesterday's lovely, but lackluster, sunset.

Which brings me around to what I noticed in the sunset today. See, yesterday the skies were crystal clear. And while I watched the first part of the sunset, it was really kind of boring. Even when you can see the horizon (which I can't), sunsets, while always lovely, just aren't as interesting unless there are clouds in the sky. I included pics of both yesterday's and today's sunset, taken at roughly the same time, to illustrate my point.

Clouds give the sun an opportunity to show its beauty in the most spectacular ways. They reflect the sun's light...contain it in concentrated bursts instead of having it diffuse out to forever until it is just no longer visible. They make sunrises and sunsets more interesting and remarkable. They show that the sun isn't just some hard-working source of light and heat, it's also something that paints a palette of beauty on every eye it's cast upon. Although I'm a big moon lover myself, I believe the sun puts on a far more spiritual show, aesthetically speaking.

Today was a day when I had to deal with lots of little annoyances. My email wasn't working. Then I got it fixed. Then it stopped working again. So lots of time spent with my ISP on the phone and over chat. Same kind of technical issues with Blue Cross, who fixed their online issues just in time for me to discover they're raising my rates by nearly $100 month.

Today's spectacular sunset at its most cloudy and fabulous. 

Then there was an issue with my bank, because they showed a $0.83 charge from Paypal that I couldn't verify on Paypal, so I opened a dispute and changed all my passwords. Then I found the $0.83 charge and had to call them to close the dispute. I know that sounds petty, but the fact is that when scammers get your personal information, they will do small charges like $0.83 just to test the waters. Then they'll hit you hard. So those small charges are vital clues that could save your arse. If you weren't aware of this, you know it now.

Finally, of course, was the expensive bowl Mystic broke. See, all of these things are "clouds". And while too many clouds will block the sun altogether, we get to choose whether or not the clouds that cast shadows on our day will block the world from seeing our light, or reflect our light in the most spectacular and profound ways.

I like to think I made a good sunset from my day. I was very pleasant with all the customer service people I spoke to (and that's saying a lot because sitting on hold for 45 minutes like I did this morning  usually brings out my inner Kali.) And Mystic didn't get anything more than a talking to...later, when she curled up to me all sorry-like.

The usual front porch scene. Kizzie's fur is a sunset in itself!

The only place I fell short and blocked my light might have been with Kizzie. None of this was his fault and he was so disappointed. He tried desperately to get out the door with me. I feel terrible about it now. But in the moment I think it was best for all involved if I just had some time alone. So I'm going to count that as a win, too. BTW, Kizzie addressed the cloud of not getting to watch the sunset with me quite gracefully. He laid in front of the window and watched me and the sunset from inside the house. Where it was NOT 20 degrees and windy.

While it's nice to have days when everything is perfect and easy, sometimes it's more gratifying at the end of the day to know you made it through an obstacle course alive. Little clouds make days more interesting. But more than that, the way we handle them makes US more interesting. We could live our lives with a blandly content visage perfect day after perfect day. But try being bland or content on a bad day...it's just not done!

Various clouds—wispy ones, small ones, stormy ones—along with varying amounts of cloud cover, combine in ways to really reflect who we are inside. Or they at least capture who we are on that particular day. Like I said before, some clouds are just born to block the sun and there's nothing we can do about days like that. But most days we have a choice of whether to reflect the light within or block it out. What kind of sunset will you choose to be?

1/22/14—Limiting Our Possibilities

A dozen years before The Secret detailed its method of manifesting things in the universe, I read Deepak Chopra's Seven Spiritual Laws of Success. Although there might have been earlier books that handled this topic, I consider Seven Spiritual Laws of Success ground zero in the manifestation space.

Because I'd already had a decade of experience with Deepak's technique (and have written about it many times here), little in The Secret was new to me. But they did introduce me to the idea of creating vision boards. However, through laziness, lack of interest and perceived lack of need, I never made one. This year as I was considering things I could do differently in the new year, it occurred to me that, for my long term goals, I could create a vision board...maybe a digital one I could keep as the wallpaper on my computer.

See, I believe that the universe is always conspiring to bring us what we want and need based on our thoughts and actions. And so I pay attention to my thoughts and actions. While I do a very good job of manifesting things of immediate need, I'm not so sure about my success on achieving long-term goals. So I thought a vision board might make all the difference.

While I've just started collecting images and finding ways to put them together in a collage online, I've already discovered something that could be key in my ability to manifest my long term goals. As I've been searching through pictures online, I find myself looking at a grandiose home, for example, and thinking, "it's too fancy for me." Or "that idyllic little creek couldn't possibly be on the same property that overlooks the river (or ocean)." Or "that audience is too big for anything I would lecture about."

Now, those aren't my EXACT thoughts, but they're the *kind* of limiting thoughts I've been having. And if you would have asked me before I started looking for pics if I limited my dreams in any way, I would have said no. But clearly I am. And this turn of events has really opened my eyes.

I'm discovering there is a voice inside me that says, "I'll only take what I need or is my fair share," which, in itself, is a limiting thought. It assumes there there are limited resources and there is an average amount a person can ask for that won't leave another person poor as a result. There is also an air of "I don't serve anything that plush," in my thoughts. And some "I could never earn what it takes to maintain that," mixed in. And all of it is nonsense.

We are all entitled to live and manifest a life the size of our dreams. When we limit our dreams, we limit what is possible for us to manifest in the world. Limitation only exists because we limit ourselves by believing it does. That last sentence sounds crazy, but it's profound. What we believe shapes our reality. Limited availability and unlimited possibility are two beliefs we can choose between. They can even exist at the same time. But regardless, we shouldn't let them or anything else shape what we believe is possible for ourselves.

1/20/14—Living With Angels

Me and my girl, contemplating life together. This is my favorite picture
and I had a woman on etsy make it into a night light for me. 

Most days I think of a handful of things I want to talk about here. I sit outside for a few minutes most mornings while the dogs do their business and I drink some coffee. Then I sit outside and meditate in the am hours before bed. Then I'll usually catch a sunset. These are all fertile times for inspiration to flow into my head.

Lately just watching the sun go down in and of itself inspires deep thought. For example, I might see the squirrels retiring for the night and think of the rhythms all (or most...I haven't researched this!) living things keep to the beat of the sun. Most are active during the day, but others like the neighborhood fox and crazy loud barred owls, prefer the night. But we all have our routine.

You can learn a lot about life from just watching the sunrise and sunset. For probably two years I kept a journal of twice-weekly sunrises along the river and never made the same entry twice. Now it's the sunsets that are calling me. But it's not just the insights from nature that happen during these times outside. Many times it triggers insights from things in my present or past.

In many ways, the two years of sunrises are what inspired the three years of tarot-inspired insights I has on this blog. And now we're moving back to nature...or rather back to whatever springs from me internally. Anyway, four paragraphs in and none of this is what I want to talk about today...haha.

Beautiful inside and out. 

What has been on my mind a lot this weekend is my deceased dog, Passion. As a person who never wanted kids, but always wanted dogs, Passion was my pride and joy. She was big and beautiful. Because she was a redhead with a lot of chow chow in her, many called her Mufasa. I have never seen the The Lion King, so I took their word for it.

I believe that all of us serve us an angel to others at one time or another. While we're always here to serve each other and the earth, I believe there are certain times when we are moved by an invisible hand to be just what another needs in a fleeting moment. Like the moment a woman whose name I can't even remember anymore once told me, "be sure you're running to something, rather than running away from something, Tierney." Those words were extremely important to me in that moment and completely changed my outlook on my career from that point forward. They were the words of an angel, delivered by a human.

Now, I'm not someone who necessarily believes in angels. So when I'm saying that word, I'm not thinking of a being with wings. I'm thinking of the voice or message or gesture of god or spirit or grace coming moving through another to bring you divine guidance. These moments have happened with friends, with strangers and, for 10 years straight, in many ways, from my dog Passion.

As my first dog that was all mine (we had dogs growing up), Passion was filled with firsts for me. One of the firsts was the first time anyone ever recommended I put a dog down. See, before she even turned one, Passion went lame and needed very expensive hip surgery. I was told that most people would put a puppy like that down...twice...by professionals. She was going to be a big dog (100 lbs)...the surgery may not last...she would have difficulty all her life...blah, blah, I don't even remember all the reasons they gave me.

Growing up, our dogs were our dogs, but they weren't children, you know? So when all of this happened, I thought she was cute, I knew she was special, but was I prepared for a lifetime of challenges? My brother told me I shouldn't spend the money if I was going to resent it. This is a big thing, because it told me that if I decided in my head that I was going to do it, I should just do it and never think of it again. That helped me swallow that large bill.

The night light made from the image above. 

But there was still a place in my heart that hadn't committed to Passion yet. She was still a puppy. Still making trouble here and there. If she had the surgery, it was going to mean a lot of patience on my part while she recovered. I was going to have to be very gentle with her. Up until that time we'd had some debate over who was going to be the alpha and I would roll her and get in her face and bark at her (this was something I'd read online, and it did work...she was VERY alpha). Was I up to this? I had to make a decision.

I still remember the day when I looked her in the eye and decided to give her the surgery without resentment, love her even if she barfed and pooped on everything I owned, be more gentle with her, and hold her in my arms while she took her dying breath. There are a lot of differences between children and pets, but one of the most critical I think, is that every pet owner agrees on some level, going in, that they will ask someone to administer a lethal dose to their baby then hold their baby it as it dies.

What I learned that day as I looked in Passion's eyes is perhaps the most valuable lesson I will ever learn—to love unconditionally. It was a decision I made and I never looked back.

The reason I say Passion is an angel in fur is because, well, she was a unique girl. My boy Kizzie and my girl Magick (and possibly even my girl Mystic) are just dogs. They're dog souls in a dog body and  enjoy the rhythms and depth (or lack thereof) of a dog's life. Passion was not that way. Passion was clearly a "human soul" who chose to come down here and serve time in the prison of a dog suit and dog brain to live an incredibly boring dog life with me....all to teach me about love and dignity and limitations of various kinds.

Anyone with children knows what unconditional love is. It's different from the love parents receive in return, though that may be unconditional. It's different from what you feel for your spouse or any other person. It's a love that says "you can push all my buttons—neglect me, anger me, disappoint me—and I will be rendered incapable of offering you anything but my complete love." It's a thorough letting go of all present and future anger and resentment and judgment and yielding entirely to love. It is the highest form of love, imo. And for people who don't want children, our pets let us experience it.

This post is already too long. So trust me when I say Passion was magnificent and human in so many ways. She thrived when given situations where critical and analytical thought were key. A dog's life was way too limiting for her. I know this sounds crazy, but about the age of 9 she started telling me she was ready to go...she'd had enough. Within a year she developed the disease that would make that possible. One day she was fine...just an aging girl. The next day I was told that she needed to be put down immediately. This time I followed their advice.

I spent one last night with Passion. She was 10 years old. The professionals were wrong about her hip. It held out and never gave her trouble again. Had I listened to them, I never would have known her. I know it sounds crazy, but in so many ways she was my equal. In so many ways, she was my superior. She was stubborn and overbearing and she meted out her love completely conditionally...haha...but if I ever meet a human as incredibly amazing as her, I will be truly blessed.

We sat up together all night and talked. A few of the neighbors came by to pay their last respects to her. She was sort of the grand dame dog in the neighborhood. Then we just laid on her beddie boo by the window holding hands and talking all night. When I would have to get up to go to the bathroom, she got scared...the only times I ever saw that big toughie scared in her life. She knew what was happening and needed me to be there for her. She was too weak to keep being strong. And the next morning I sang her song to her as she died in my arms. When I finally let go and placed her on the ground, I leaned over her and kissed her and one final puff came from inside her. In that moment she was gone.

In the movie, Mufasa told Simba, "there's more to being a king than getting your way all the time." In many ways, that's the lesson Passion taught me. She taught me to open my heart enough to let someone else in...something no human relationship had ever taught me. And, of course, she taught me unconditional love. I would absolutely not be the person (or doggie mom) I am today without Passion reflecting my stubborn, impatient and overbearing ways back to me.

A while after her death, I drew a tarot card asking for a message from her. It showed a mother bear in spirit looking over her three baby bears while they slept. Because I often called her Pashie Bear, there was simply not a better message I could have gotten. She watches over us.

Passion gave up a human incarnation, imo, to be a dog with hip issues stuck in a non-challenging life...all to be my angel and saving grace. She loved me that much. Of course, it's not like she didn't learn any lessons from me. But outside of my parents, I don't know who would or could ever affect me as deeply. The lessons I learned from her were so huge they reshaped my life from that point forward. Does that soul exist for you? What lesson have you learned from them that you weren't able to learn from anyone else?

1/18/14—Finding Stillness

I've been watching sunsets from my front porch nearly every night lately. I sit on my stoop wrapped in a blanket. Passers by ask if I'm locked out or if I'm OK. Sometimes I have my boy, Kizzie, out there with me. And I've managed to see three sunrises this year, which is about as many as I saw all last year. I'm a night owl, so I saw those sunrises before going to bed...haha. When you're still awake at 5:30, you may as well just stay up to see the sunrise. That's what I say. 

There's a special stillness that comes at dawn and dusk. At dusk, the day's noise settles down and earth's little critters settle in their nests. I imagine the squirrels in their nests, wearing smoking jackets, sitting in a lounge chair and reading a good book. I'm sure that's what everyone imagines. :D At dawn, there is a slow, quiet awakening before everyone gets about the day's business. At these times of day I find it easy to access the stillness within me. 

There is a place at the core of all of us, I believe, that is devoid of thought and emotion. It's not a happy place or a sad place. It's neutral. Literally nothing happens there and yet it seems like the point of origin for all that it is. If we're ever able to wrap our head around where all the galaxies in the universe came from and where the space comes from that the universe expands into, we may understand that place of stillness within.

For me, I find it easiest to reach through meditation. First I listen to all the noise around me, aiming to hear the slightest click of a branch in the breeze. And then I listen deeper, all the way until I can hear the silence. Then when my attention is so attuned to the silence that I can no longer hear the noise, the stillness reveals itself. And there I am in a place lacking in conscious thought or action...like whatever it might have felt like in the time before the galaxies existed. Getting there is like anything else you do in life. It's hard when you first try. Then one day it becomes second nature.

So many of us forget the importance of injecting peace and stillness into our days. We all need to push the reset button and cleanse our palates from time to time. I know not everyone is open to meditation, but I think that's the only way you get to the place I describe. But being in the zone, like when you get so lost in something that you seem to enter a trance-like state, is pretty close to what I describe. The difference is that meditation brings you there intentionally, rather than incidentally. And since the experience comes without an activity attached, you fall deeper and more "consciously" into the stillness.

Whatever might transport you to a still, calm space this weekend, make it a priority. This is especially true for people who don't have the time or patience for this nonsense...haha. Even if only for 15 minutes. It's a rest your body needs. Sleep is filled with dreams and tossing and turning. So you're not getting stillness then. So when are you getting it? If the answer is, "not often enough," make it your weekend project.