4/25/14—Adjusting to Growth

There are a lot things nobody tells you when you're on the spiritual path. You just have to learn them for yourself. 

In fact, one of my many book ideas, and the one closest to be submitted to a publisher, is called "10 Things The Spiritual Gurus Never Tell You". One of those things is that, for those who are really pushing themselves to grow, it can be a lonely and painful process. 

If you're like me, when you first started exploring your spiritual beliefs or personal growth, you were like a doe-eyed kid, thinking you'd be walking a rainbow path filled with unicorns to a place where happiness is more abundant than sunlight. I've been actively pursuing and observing the spiritual and personal paths of growth most of my life now and I can confidently say nobody's happy all the time. I think you become more in balance. You learn to surround yourself with things that fuel you and lift you higher. But no matter how much you stack the deck in your favor, life happens. Things suck. Balance is lost. 

Balance is lost, in fact, every time you grow. And you're always growing. You move from one level to the next and you have to find a new balance in the new place. 

For the most part, growth is slow and steady. It's manageable. But there are times you might find yourself taking a quantum leap. Let's take gossip as an example. Say the friends you're with right now get together every Friday for coffee and to chat about people you know in common. And let's say this is no longer OK with you. Maybe you tell people you don't like the gossiping, but they say they're just having fun. So you no longer enjoy the coffee dates. And one day you don't go. And you decide not to go again. And since the reason everyone gets together on Fridays is because everyone is so busy, it's not easy to get together with people individually. So you don't see these people that much anymore. And you miss the camaraderie. And you know they now talk about YOU sometimes. 

On the one hand, you're feeling the benefits of not having all that gossip energy in your life anymore. You're feeling lighter...more "at one" with the universe. You're feeling better about who you are. But you're not part of "the gang" anymore. And meeting a new gang is going slowly. And you feel lonely, even depressed, when you think too much about who they're probably talking about now.

One of the things nobody ever tells you is that, if you're really consciously trying to improve yourself, you'll lose a lot of friends. And meet new ones, yes. But in between, it's lonely. And when you draw a line in the sand in your life that says "no more gossiping" or whatever, it's hard. Because the part of you that liked that still wants it. You want that part to fade away, and it will. But in between, it's hard. And the whole tamale can be painful as you move from one place to another and try to find your footing. 

You know you've done the right thing and LIKE you've done the right thing, but it doesn't always feel good. You miss the comfort and familiarity of the old way and you went and leaped into a new way that isn't quite comfortable yet. Isn't quite familiar. You're like a man without a country for a while until you make this new thing your home. And it will be your home. And you will never look back in regret. But where are the rainbows? Where are the unicorns? 

I think if we knew how hard and lonely it can be, we might never push ourselves to grow. Maybe that's why this is something we have to learn for ourselves. Certainly it would be easier in many ways to just quietly conform to the conditions around us...not ruffle any feathers. I mean, some people just never seem to change much and they're good with that. But we're not really that type, are we?

I'm not sure there's a moral to today's entry. Just something they never tell you that you have to learn for yourself. If you're feeling left out and a little lost because you've outgrown friends or situations, it's normal. The same kind of situation happens when maybe you quit drinking. Or you get divorced. With everything gained along the spiritual and/or personal path of growth, something is lost...a piece of who you were is left behind. Trying to stay that person, though, is more painful than the temporary pain of change for people who have committed their lives to a path of growth. So it can hurt. And be sad. But the place you've just moved into is a place of greater freedom and firmer balance than the place before. It's just an adjustment before the benefits roll and everything else becomes a distant memory.

4/23/14—Understanding Forgiveness

My last blog inspired a whole different conversation about forgiveness on my Facebook wall. While many feel the pain that holding on perpetuates in their lives, they also feel forgiveness is somehow a defeat or permission or an affirmation of bad behavior. Forgiveness is none of those things. It's actually your only route back to peace...a victory nobody can deny you. Here's a classic post from the archives that might help.

Forgiveness is a tough topic, primarily because people have so many different definitions of it. You look in the dictionary and see words like "pardon" and "absolve" and say "hells to the no! I ain't doing THAT!" And I agree. That's tantamount to saying "I wipe your indiscretion clean" in my book. That's not going to happen. 

Oprah's favorite definition of forgiveness is "giving up the hope that the past could ever be different." That makes a lot of sense. Because that's what we push up against...we want things a) to be made right or b) to have never happened in the first place. Neither of those things will ever happen. So when we let go of the desire for the past to be different, the bad feelings we hold go with it. I get that and it all sounds really reasonable and nice, but it's a little soft for what I'm really feeling in the moment of anger.

So I came up with a different definition befitting the drama I feel at the time, and that is: "I will no longer stew in toxins over what you did". I personally believe I was born uniquely qualified to stew in toxins, so forgiveness means setting aside my playtime with my "special gift". Some of the time forgiveness also means that I "get" it...I get why you did whatever you did and while I don't agree with it, I do get it. In short, I come to peace with what happened. But understanding and being at peace with what happened are NOT requirements of forgiveness. They just make it easier.

Whether I'm at peace with it it or not doesn't mean I'll ever talk to you again, though. It just means that I'll stop ramming pins into the poppet I made in your likeness and I'll move my anger down to a simmer. And then I'll let it cool and evaporate. Some people, like family, will remain in my life and our relationship will carry on (albeit changed). Others, depending upon the crime and the amount of personal responsibility acknowledged, may not. 

For me, forgiveness also does not include forgetting. I will never forget. Come crawling back five or ten years later thinking I forgot, and you will find that I have not. I will likely be kind to you because I am a kind person. But I will not forget. I will not invite you in for tea. We will not laugh about "old times". I will not inquire about your pet rabbit. And I will not encourage our conversation to linger. Remembering is my prize in the Cracker Jack box of forgiveness. You can make me eat the sugary, stale brown popcorn of letting go, but the prize is mine to keep, dammit!

Ultimately, forgiveness isn't something you do for anyone other than yourself. In fact, they don't need to know you've forgiven them. It's not a gift for you to bestow on them. It's a gift you bestow upon yourself. You do it to release the toxic effects of anger, pain and hurt from your body, mind and soul. In some cases, you do it because you refuse to allow the other person to take anymore of your peace of mind than they have already taken. You may not like hearing this, but refusing to forgive is choosing to remain a victim.

Carrying stuff like pain, betrayal and violation changes the chemicals in your body. It keeps you chained to the past. It keeps you from creating better situations in your life.It can give you cancer. And it closes off your heart to others. Forgiveness reopens your heart to others—maybe not to the offender, but to yourself and others you care about. The energy of bitterness toward one person pervades every other relationship you have as long as you hold on to it. Don't fool yourself that it doesn't.

Every one of us will be in two positions in our lives—we will be the forgiver, as I've already discussed. And we will be the one who needs to be forgiven. The crime we committed may be one perpetrated against someone else or against ourselves. In each case, we will not find forgiveness anywhere outside of ourselves. 

"What?" you say? Yeah, you heard me. No one can forgive you but yourself. You don't need anyone else's forgiveness to be forgiven. Their forgiveness is for them, remember? So all that time you spend thinking, "I really wish Tommy would forgive me" is really just you saying "I wish I could get to a place where I forgive myself for what I did to Tommy". Tommy's forgiveness means nothing if you can't forgive yourself. And if you forgive yourself, you don't really need Tommy's forgiveness to move forward. Do the math and you'll see Tommy's forgiveness is irrelevant. Sure, it would be nice to know he "gets it", but you don't need it. 

On a final note, I have never, to my recollection, ever purposely done anything to anyone to get revenge. If that's your thing, you're just creating bad karma for yourself. The universe makes all scores even and, from my observation, is much better at it than I am. It's actually possible that whatever was done to you was something you had coming from some "crime" you committed years ago against someone else. So get off your high horse and stop thinking you get to be god because someone "done you wrong". It's not your job to judge, convict and sentence others. Do that and you'll just continue the cycle of nastiness in your life. Because all scores are made even, including the ones you commit against the natural order. 

Listen, in the end, we all screw up. And sometimes the offending act is actually a gift waking us up to a relationship that's gone past its sell-by date. Sometimes its waking us up to something that needs to change in a treasured dynamic. Sometimes it's telling us something we didn't previously know or acknowledge about someone we care about, thereby giving us the opportunity to know them deeper, whether we continue with the relationship or not. And sometimes it's telling us something we didn't know about ourselves and our choices in life. 

The gifts of these situations can be lost in the anger. So always remember to ask yourself, "what did this betrayal (or whatever) come here to show me?" While forgiveness truly is a gift you give yourself, many times that gift is just the cherry on top of a much bigger one. Don't let your anger blind you to that.

Adapted from a post originally made on 7/3/12.

4/21/14—Remembering Perspective

April is a month that holds a lot of painful memories for my family, and even more so for me.

26 years ago on the 9th, my father was murdered (by a black widow) and me and my siblings became parentless. Five years ago on the 21st, I was told to say goodbye to my beloved companion, Passion the dog, because she may not make it through the night. And two years ago on the same date I said goodbye to my brother.

This year, when I turned 51, I became someone who had lived more of my life without parents than with them. Most who read this will never know what that's like. My mother died while I was still in college, so I never knew her as an adult. I've never heard a parent tell me they're proud of the person I've become and I've never gotten to tell them face to face that it's all because of what they gave me.

Another thing most of you will never know is what it's like to live 26 years knowing your father's murderer is free, alive and living off his pension in Florida. You may never experience the complete failure of the American justice system firsthand. You'll never have to let go of something so maddening in order to save your own sanity. You'll never have to see what something like that does to the people you love. And you'll probably never have someone who, despite your spiritual beliefs, you wait and hope patiently for decades to die, because it will be the only form of justice you'll ever see. 

On the upside of all of this, I have a few friends whose parents have Altzheimers or who have to struggle with the decision to put their parents in a home. And I'm truly grateful I'll never have to deal with that. I think you're more resilient when you're younger. Losing my brother a couple of years ago was very hard, primarily because of the history we had together. And while you expect your parents to die, having a sibling die is somehow a thought that never occurs to you until it happens. But I think the longer you have someone in your life, the harder it can be in many ways. Also, the older you get, the more sentimental you become.

I'm thinking of all of this because these anniversaries tick by and we don't often speak of them. We just take them in silently. And Monday (today or tomorrow, depending on when you're reading) marks the anniversary of the final hours of my "first born" dog and the final minutes of my fourth born sibling. Aside from remembering them and continuing to talk to them in their current form, I think one of the best ways to honor our departed loved ones is through perspective. That's one of the gifts we all receive when someone we love dies.

Is what you're going through right now as bad as losing your brother? Is it as bad as what he went through, knowing he was leaving his wife alone with with four children to raise? Is it as painful as going through a year of civil and criminal trials while grieving your father's death? Is it worth losing your dignity and integrity over when you've been able to hold on to both for 26 years while waiting for justice to happen? Is it as big a loss as losing the only person who would ever love you unconditionally? Is it as crushing and defeating as knowing there's nothing more you can do to save the life of a being you raised from a puppy and who taught you some of life's most valuable lessons?

We go through life, myself included, and get all worked up about the stupidest shit. We let small things hold us back and defeat us when we've slain much bigger monsters in our lives. We've lost bigger things, had bigger worries, faced bigger fears, overcome greater challenges, forgiven greater slights. And yet, there are times we forget how strong and resilient we are. We forget how blessed we've been and how blessed we still are. 

And the same is true about life's victories. We forget how many times our prayers were answered, how often our dreams were realized and our thoughts became tangible. So many times what looked like inevitable defeat turned into a great blessing. So frequently the things that brought us great pain also brought us valuable gifts. 

Is something that's weighing heavily on your mind really as big as it seems? Or is it just distracting you from addressing something even bigger? 

Is the annoyance that's currently in your life worth all the energy you're putting into it? Or is minuscule in comparison what you've weathered in the past?

Are you really on the verge of utter defeat? Or have you forgotten just how strong you truly are?

Does everything around you seem hopelessly bleak? Or does it look just like the same darkness before the dawn you've experienced before?

Some who are reading this are truly facing epic moments in their lives...the kind that put all other moments in perspective. Some may have never faced anything truly difficult and, therefore have little perspective. But the rest of us—most of us, I would imagine—are occupying our minds with things that, in the context of what we've already experienced, are trivial at best or a speed bump at worst. 

Perspective is one of the greatest gifts that comes from the tragedies and difficulties in our lives. It reminds us how big we are. How blessed we are. How strong. Resilient. Forgiving. And compassionate we can be. In that way, the moments that bring us perspective also bring us closer to God, even though they're also the very moments that might cause us to question him. 

So as you go through your week this week, consider putting your issues—from commuter traffic to interpersonal issues to the truly tragic—into their proper perspective. If you're a Christian, Easter marks the perfect time to do this. The rest of us can just consider the rebirth that spring brings. In the experience of the soul, nothing can be taken from us. Nothing lasts forever. We cannot be defeated. Whatever threatens us today is already doomed to fail. Everything brings us closer to god. We are all divine beings. Nothing can change that. We can only forget. And it's never too late to remember.

4/18/14—Speaking the Truth

I recently found myself speaking my truth about speaking my truth and someone reminded me of a post I made about that very topic way back. So today's post is partly that post and partly another on the same topic. 

When it comes to being honest, there have been times in the past where I would hold my tongue in certain cases to keep from being mean to others. Then over a while, I'd build up so much frustration over holding my tongue that some random person bears the wrath of my tongue, usually unfairly in relation to the situation. 

Over time I came to realize that holding your tongue to protect someone else's feelings is abusive to yourself. We need to enforce our boundaries in order for others to respect them. And we need to be true to ourselves in order to respect ourselves. 

In the past, I've not only held my tongue to save the feelings of others, but I also haven't made my own needs known. I've also put up with a lot of BS, overlooked a lot of lies, maintained a lot of soul crushing friendships and allowed myself to compromise my own comfort for the comfort of others. And you know what? I'm finally done. 

But it's important to note that we're also not respecting ourselves or others if we use our truth as a way of hurting others. Sometimes, though, a person is going to get hurt. Who wouldn't get hurt about "I no longer want to be your friend" or "I don't feel I can trust you"? If that's your truth there's no kinder way of saying it unless you blow all sorts of crap up their butt that you don't really feel. What's not kind is "I never really liked you anyway, bitch" or "you are a pathological liar."

I also believe there are times for honesty. I didn't used to. But I do now. You can call it "times for" honesty...or you can think of it as "degrees of" honesty. Over the years, I've learned that some people that ask for the truth don't really want to hear it and will argue and excuse anything you say. And then there are drama queens who ask for the truth, then when you give it to them, end up in a puddle of tears and resent you forever after. Finally, I've also learned that volunteering the truth when not asked isn't a wise move. 

So now my policy is this—eradicate those who can't handle an honest conversation from my life. Second, I try to be mindful of volunteering the truth to people who aren't asking for it. That's just a mistake. And, finally when people DO ask for honesty, I deliver it as kindly as possible. And if they don't like it, I don't allow myself to be manipulated to feel bad about it. Most people who know me know better than to ask for the truth if they don't want to hear it. But moreover, most people who know me are people who want to hear the truth, because that's the kind of person I like to be around. 

All that said, I think the truth is subjective. My truth about something may not be your truth. Even something as simple as "the sky is blue" can be argued by a colorblind person or a scientist who wants to discuss wavelengths and other things that affect the way we perceive the color of the sky. So I do think we need to consider the subjective nature of truth when it comes to assessing the honesty of others.

All told, I feel like I'm a pretty honest person. But I believe honesty is a vehicle you need to learn to drive. You shouldn't drive it uncontrollably. You shouldn't use it as a weapon. Nor should you drive it into the ground. You have to treat it with the respect it deserves.

4/16/14—Being Sufficiently Moved

Sometimes I worry that I'll die talking about being an author, rather than actually being one. 

Sure, I've already been published by a major publisher. And in a few weeks, I will have written my 1000th blog post. But what I have in mind when I say I want to be an author is inspiring people or making them think on a MUCH larger scale. Think Rick Warren. Deepak Chopra. Or even a spiritual novelist like Dan Brown. 

As I've mentioned before, I had a premonition of sorts when I was three or four that I would be an author living in Maine. At the time it didn't appeal to me. Nor did it appeal to me at any point in my life until about 40 years later. This "vision" or whatever you want to call it, along with something deep inside me, makes me believe that everything up to this date was about preparing me for that moment. When I look back on my life and all the writing I've done, there is a clear path that's been paved to "author". 

And yet, I don't seem especially moved toward making that happen. With the Deck of 1000 Spreads, there was a NEED to get that out and into the marketplace. There was no hesitation. I was sufficiently moved to write it. And while I really feel like I've got some great ideas in the hopper for my next book, I'm not yet sufficiently moved. 

I suppose there are some fears behind that, but not the ones you might think. I'm not afraid I'm not good enough. I'm not really afraid I lack anything of value to say. What I'm more afraid of is being more public...having those critical eyes upon me in my private time. And I'm a bit intimidated by the responsibility of guiding people in spiritual ways. But more than anything, I think I'm just not sufficiently moved. I feel like I have things to say that need to be heard, but as far as a book goes right now, there's nothing I MUST say. 

Today on my Facebook feed, this video came up (link below). This 80 year old woman loved dancing as a child. As she grew older, life got in the way. She became a wife and a mother. Then in her empty nest years, she and her husband moved to Spain, where he died a year and half later. Looking for something to occupy her time, she took a dancing class. And she had moves women half her age couldn't muster.

I don't, for a moment, think any part of it was coincidence. I think this moment was as much a part of why that woman is here as her marriage and children. Same for Nico, her partner. You don't move that many people by mistake. It took her 80 years and a series of odd synchronicities to get there, but she got there. And she didn't just get there in a half assed way, she got there as a full-on badass. She didn't wait too long. In fact, the fact she was 80 punctuated the message.

To me, her message is that it's never too late to start what you came here to do. And if you're meant to do it, no obstacle will be large enough to stand in your way. What's most important is that, win or lose, it comes from the heart.

As I push myself to do more before it's too late, yet find myself less than motivated to do so, I think maybe my "Spain" or my "Nico"—the fuel for my fire—just hasn't come into my life yet. I don't want to spend a lifetime waiting, but as I see the way my life has unfolded, I can't help but feel that things happen when they need to happen and there's never a moment where we're not being guided forward. 

So what might you feel it's too late to start? What do you feel drawn to accomplish while you can? And if those two things are the same, how do you plan to proceed?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hjHnWz3EyHs

4/14/14—Letting Things Be

I've let go. Today I don't hold any lingering resentment toward anyone or anything. It's less about being blissed out on beautiful spring day than it is no longer having the energy to hold on to anything negative for too long. 

And what they say is true. Focusing on all the stuff going wrong around you, whether it's people or circumstances, is really just a way to avoid all the stuff going wrong inside you. It's true. When you're not so transfixed on what she said or he did or how some situation took a turn for the worse, you can get some really amazing insights about yourself. Some of the insights might be unflattering, but all are there to heal. As a bonus, it also leaves room for you to process and appreciate more of the good stuff. 

Ultimately we all have our business to take care of here. Over the past couple of years I've made a conscious effort to let people have their crap. After all, I sure wouldn't want anyone up in my crap, so why would get all up in theirs? Whoever you are and whatever objectionable things you do, I'm doing  my best to move on. Including haters. Including things out of my control. Including even taxes. :) And when I can't move on, I use that as an opportunity to ask myself why...what button did that person push that is so painful for me? Because our "hate" for others really isn't about them. It's about something unhealed within us. 

So anyway, not a long post today. It just all of a sudden occurred to me that I had no lingering resentments about anything today—not even resentments about myself or my inactions or actions. I'm sure this has happened before, but I haven't noticed it consciously. It leaves the brain unusually empty, which is why the insights pop in. It's not good or bad, happy or sad. It just is. And suspecting that letting things just "be" is the only true path to lasting contentment, I'm good with that. 

4/11/14—Riding With The Top Off

It's spring and I have a tiny little blue convertible. 

That could actually be my post for the day. Most of you have probably already envisioned yourself scooting off into the sunset based on that one sentence alone. But there's more to the story.

I bought my Honda del Sol 21 years ago when I was 30. In debating the purchase of my two-seater, I remember thinking, "this may be my last chance to own a horribly impractical car." So I bought it. And I don't think any single purchase in my life has brought me as much joy as that horribly impractical two-seater.

Over the years I've shared a lot of memories with this car. I like to use it to pick up Christmas trees, in part to see the look on the tree guys' faces, but also because it's good at hauling trees. It's been "totaled" a couple of times. A fender bender is enough to total it these days. The last time the guy was going to put a junk title on it, but I cried and told him it wasn't junk. So it still has a clear title. :D I no longer drive it on the highway anymore, though. SUVs are so big that it's hard to see my car. I mean, the car comes to maybe the middle of my torso. It's very low to the ground. Which makes 60mph feel like 80mph. Which is kind of fun. 

It has only failed to start on the first try twice in its lifetime. Both were because of dead batteries. See, I only drive it once a month or so. I had to get another car 10 years ago because the del Sol was no longer big enough for my family. Prior to that my big dog, Passion would sit in the passenger seat and people would laugh and stare because she looked so human with her straight back and forward gaze. Like one man got out of his car at a stoplight to say, "I couldn't tell if she was a dog or a really ugly human." Back then, she went everywhere with me.

Anyway, when I added Kizzie to my family, I needed a new car. That's the car I drive most. None of my current dogs like riding in the del Sol, so it's just a solo car now. It's not even good for tooling around in with friends because it's so cramped in there. Besides, the radio hasn't worked for years. And with the weather this past winter, it never left the driveway. It doesn't do well in snow. So the battery died. And I got it jumped yesterday. And on a beautiful spring day I was forced to drive around in it along the river to charge the battery. Poor me. :)

My little del Sol is small, a hazard to drive, crunches easily, none of my dogs will ride in it, it can't drive in snow, it's a little rusty and, frankly, it frequently shakes at higher speeds. It's completely impractical. I'm sorry to say, I probably wouldn't buy it today. But I'm so glad I have it. 

It reminds me that not all decisions have to be made with the head or with the future in mind. And that a "smart" purchase isn't always measured in things like safety ratings or hauling capacity. It can sometimes be measured by how many beats your heart skips when you get behind the wheel and how broad your smile is when you think of it. She only has 94K on her. She runs like a top and always has. I might have her another 20 years. She's one of the smartest decisions I've ever made.