Prelude to The Winter Solstice

Early Morning Greeting from the Moon and Venus

All of heaven and all of earth coordinate at the Winter Solstice. Gregge Tiffen (Winter Solstice: The Christmas Story)

This week amidst a community controversy in which the board that I chair is being challenged, I’ve felt out of sync with the season and out of sorts with myself.  I want to stop. I want to stop not just for a few minutes to catch my breath, center myself and move on to the next task or conversation, but I want to STOP and BE the winter. Quiet. Still. Peaceful.

My time for that will come. I feel her on the horizon. Until then, there are ‘miles to go before I sleep’ in these last days of autumn before that moment when heaven and earth synchronize at the Winter Solstice. I know without a doubt that I will be there.

I know too that I alone am responsible for choosing how I walk through the tasks along those miles. I choose calm, confident, clear, kind as my foundation. These are grounded in love.  My choice is simple; implementation, not always easy. Often when I’m challenged, fear interrupts and invites me to its prickly path of tension, harshness, unkind words spoken and not. Too much of the world is on that path. I don’t want to be a part of that crowd.

And, so I pause. Make time for a long morning walk with Luke to visit a favorite spot along the creek. I ignore the ringing phone and resist the temptation to see what new jab is posted on Facebook. I pick up Gregge’s booklet Winter Solstice. I find this message, perfect to remind me of the choices I can make now and moment to moment, before my time of winter solitude, and beyond winter into the spring:

Prelude*

There is nothing I can give you which you have not got; but there is much, very much, that while I cannot give it, you can take.

No Heaven can come to us, unless our hearts find rest in today.

Take Heaven

No peace lies in the future which is not hidden in this present little instant.

Take Peace

The gloom of the world is but a shadow. Behind it, yet within our reach, is joy. There is radiance and glory in the darkness could we but see, and to see, we have only to look, I beseech you,

Look!

In the quiet there is tranquility. May your life move and radiate in that unity and your heart sing the hymn of peace to all mankind.

And so, at this time I greet you not quite as the world sends greetings, but with profound esteem and with prayer that for now and forever the day breaks, and the shadows flee away.

* Gregge Tiffen (Winter Solstice: The Christmas Story)

A Gift of Love from Cottonwood Creek

The Powerlessness of Control

The Deep Quiet of Winter Begins to Settle In

At some point it becomes necessary to realize that spiritual Power rests in giving up the issue of control as an attempt to control people outside yourself.  Gregge Tiffen (The Power of Giving Thanks – November, 2007)

On some level most of us know that controlling others doesn’t work. We’ve had experiences in close relationships, jobs, and organizations that show us this up close and personal. The violence, chaos, and crises in the world reflect attempts of one group or country to control another.  Our own culture of consumerism and competition, even politics, reflect attempts to control.

It wasn’t until I looked at an event in my own life this week through the lens of Gregge Tiffen’s quote above that I began to understand the high personal cost of my own efforts to control things outside of me.

This week I was reminded that trying to control others and situations involving others takes me away from being me and lands me square in a place of exhaustion – physically, mentally, and spiritually. In hindsight, I realized that allowing myself to skip the most important part of my day, my morning quiet time, set me on this particular path to stress.

In my quest to provide an awesome experience for my bed and breakfast guests this week, I forgot that others and situations are not mine to control.  An early morning plumbing problem in the shared guest bath, combined with a talkative guest in one room and a quiet guest in the other, found me trying to control the volume of conversation, which logs went on the fire, while I dealt with an overflowing toilet.

The plumbing problem fixed itself. Guests had their breakfast and happily moved on into their day. The clock read just shy of 10am. I was tired and found it difficult to focus my thoughts and energy on the day’s work that I wanted to accomplish. 

I slogged through that day and the next, still experiencing feeling tired and unfocused. A day later, in the quiet of my morning reflection time, I read Gregge’s words above. The dots were connected and I realized the source of the drain on my focus and energy.  I learned yet again the futility of trying to control others. And, I learned its cost:

Attempting to use your power to control others is exhausting.

This point of reflection leads me to wonder whether and how collective exhaustion in society contributes to creating the chaos we witness daily.  What might be possible in our world with just a bit more time and effort for quiet, personal reflection and the peace and personal power evoked from that awareness?

Catch A Falling Leaf

The hills are alive enroute to Cochetopa Pass

Life is an enormous power to be understood and used as energy.  Gregge Tiffen (Open Secrets: Ancient Rituals October, 2011)*

In the last few weeks we’ve experienced a solar eclipse, the autumnal equinox (here in the northern hemisphere), and this week’s spectacular eclipse of the super, harvest moon.  Each event had its own power. Each of us experienced the events in our own way, unique to us and understood at our own level of awareness, knowledge and interest.

As we move into autumn with daylight waning day to day on our way to the quiet, inner time of winter, we approach the season of celebration: harvest festivals and the holy days of many religions.  As the leaves are providing their annual show of fall color, I move into my annual preparation for winter and I’m reminded of the energy of connecting with the earth, her cycles and of rituals that emerged from observation.

In ancient times, holy days were truly holy. The people stopped. They celebrated and, perhaps sometimes recalibrated, to be in sync with the planet. They observed. They interpreted. They sought to understand the energy of events and to use that energy.  It seems that they understood intention and the power of the mind in ways that science today is proving. From their understanding rituals emerged.

Happy dog pausing to pose on the trail ... 'come on Mom!'

A drive high into the mountains to immerse myself in the beauty of the turning leaves reminded me of a ritual that Gregge Tiffen wrote about in the booklet that today’s quote comes from: catching a falling leaf. A falling leaf “represents the goodness of Mother Earth,” thus good luck emanates from catching one before it hits the ground. It is said that in ancient times wise women sent the children out to do just that. The caught leaf is carried until the end of the season and disposed of at the Winter Solstice.

Catching a falling leaf is not as easy as you’d think. My car ‘caught’ one that floated in the window. I have yet to catch mine.

I think of rituals as habits or practices that I do with awareness, intention and a sense of sacredness. We create ritual when we bring purpose and a sense of the sacred into life whether catching a leaf each autumn for good luck or blessing our food daily for gratitude and good health.

The pass -- an historic place to steep in nature's beauty.

A Thought Never Dies

Hints of Fall Begin to Dot the Slopes

Every thought we have and every word we speak goes out into this infinite Universe and stays there. Every thought we have has an effect on us and our planet as well.  Gregge Tiffen [Life in the World Hereafter: The Journey Continues & The Journey Continues: In Search of Wisdom – September 2010]

The above quotes got my attention this morning as they were what my eyes landed on in each of the two books I picked up as I began to muse about today’s post.  I wondered just what the heck they had to do with an event this week that I’ve been reflecting on and guessed that I’d be writing about.

Last week I wrote about the need for forgiveness to forge peace.  Other than questioning the level of my own courage to forgive, my reflections were more global.  Said another way, they were more about the world and others than developing my own capacity to forgive.

As is the way of learning, the issue was brought home to me this week in one of those ‘small events of life’ that generated deep reflection and questioning: a conundrum, as yet with no clear ‘answer’.  An unresolved conflict between what I claim my values to be and choices I make that aren’t aligned with them. I’m grateful for the curiosity which inspires me to explore and want to sort it out.

This idea that a thought never dies that it goes forth into the Universe forever has my attention in this internal conflict.  You see, for all my thoughts of peace breaking out all over the world, I experience being annoyed by and being concerned about the impact on me and my environment by some of nature’s creatures. I call them ‘pests’: mosquitos and mice to name two specifically.

I aim not to give them much energy or attention. But sometimes they demand it.  During mosquito season, my inner killer came forth daily as dozens would follow me or guests in the door. Without much thought I swatted them. Dead.  Months before, after experiencing an infestation of mice that I was unable to control by natural means, I made the difficult decision to use poison.  Unlike mosquito swatting, I made a conscious choice.

I had the awareness that this choice wasn’t aligned with my claim to value non-violence and peace. While it’s been successful in reducing the mouse population, I’ve never been totally at peace.  It isn’t what I want to contribute or how I want to express myself in the world. Every choice is after all an expression of me.  Yet, I rationalize my decision with the success of not hearing mice scurrying in the walls.  

Enter this weekend, a larger creature.  In the dark of the night, it took bites out of every piece of fruit in my two fruit bowls and knocked several items off of the kitchen counter.  Other ‘evidence’ clearly indicated that it wasn’t a mouse. While I was definitely upset, my thoughts didn’t go to ‘kill it’.  And, as I reached out for advice on dealing with the situation, the clearest was to “set a live trap”.   That action was a success, and a rascally young pack rat has been relocated to a remote area several miles away and, hopefully, its point of entry sealed: a small victory for non-violence and for own thought process.

Compassion for the Perpetrator

Although I’m keenly aware that my thinking and my choice contribute to negativity on the planet and to our human propensity toward violence against one another, I’m not at the place of reversing my mouse control decision.  The angst and curiosity of the conundrum will continue at least for a while.

A Beautiful Path for Strolling Contemplation

Back to School/Back to Joy

Early Morning Orbs at the Ziggurat

If we are to live in joy and in accomplishment, we must release our cells from self-imposed restrictions so they can sense, interpret and move us with the changing times. We need to be ready to respond and to use our experiences to our advantage.  Gregge Tiffen (What You Should Get From Education - 2007

It’s ‘back to school’ week here in the Sangres. This morning’s quote provided me with the ‘back to school’ jolt I needed to recognize that I’d fallen into a pattern of rote response to daily events. No joy. No awareness of using those events to my advantage.

Fortunately ‘back to school’ didn’t require pre-school shopping and scurrying around (plenty of the later just tending to life). I simply needed to STOP, breathe, recognize and reset.  I stopped early yesterday, putting my head on the pillow before darkness fell.  I wasn’t aware just what that stopping would bring, and after a few deep breaths of gratitude, I was fast asleep.

It was only when I hit the books this morning for the spark of inspiration to kick off this week’s post that I took the time to recognize (and acknowledge) that I was slogging through events each day.  I was ‘getting things done’ and in the doing I was more focused on what needed to be done next than on the activity at hand.

I wasn’t miserable, but I definitely felt stressed. And, where there is stress, there is no joy and little, if any true accomplishment. Yes, tasks get done, but without the awareness needed for the experience to bring forth any wisdom. Unknowingly, I’d stepped back into some old ways, rotely responding to Luke’s needs, my garden’s call to ‘come harvest’, preparing meals, running my B&B, attending a county commissioner’s meeting, and a host of other ‘to dos’.  The quote above woke me up to that awareness with the recognition that I was moving through life with a sense of dread.

So this day (and probably several that follow) is dedicated to resetting and getting me back in tune.  I started on our morning walk, putting my attention on feeling the cool air, smelling the freshness, and hearing the quiet of early morning in this beautiful place.  I set aside the ‘to do’ list and stayed present, allowing the beauty of the day to envelope me. I returned home, interacted with a departing guest, cared for Luke and then took myself out on the deck with a nourishing bowl of fruit and cup of tea. 

I took some time to reflect on this process of ‘resetting’ and outlined what I wanted to commit to in this reset:

·        Take time as each task is complete to recognize the accomplishment.

·        Step into each task with joy and gratitude.

·        Keep my attention on the task at hand, not ‘what’s next’.

·        Take care of me – rest and nourishment when I need them (not when I have time for them).

I’m clear that the return to my old ways of moving through each day put me out of sync with the current patterns of the Universe and of me. Perhaps that’s true on such a broad scale that the world is in ever increasing chaos.  What if we each checked our settings regularly to ensure that we are in tune? What kind of world would we create if we simply took time to stop, breathe, recognize, and reset?

The Tree of Joy and Wisdom!

The Gift of Resistance

Most of us have two lives: the life we live and the life within us.  Between the two stands Resistance.  Steven Pressfield

In Resistance is the gift. Cindy Reinhardt

A beautiful hike on Spanish Creek in the quiet of morning's beauty.

At one time or another most of us have been told (by self or another) to overcome our resistance and ‘just do it’.  Whatever ‘it’ may be, if we’re resisting then certainly it’s something that we ‘should’ (ugh!) do.  Of course, there are times when this is a choice that serves us, moving us ahead toward a goal or keeping us on a favorable path.  But, for any resistance on the surface, there is something deeper to be discovered.

This week I (re)discovered that the more deeply I examine my resistance (in this case with support from my coach), the richer my awareness is.  All too often though, we don’t take that deeper look.  Heck, I wasn’t even aware that I was resisting.  

My pattern, when I do notice my resistance is for my ‘should-o-meter’ to kick in. I automatically tell myself to ‘stop resisting’ and ‘just do it’. After all, that’s how you conquer life, right?

But what about those times when our resistance may have a different message, one accessible only with a bit of digging?  For me this week the message from resistance was 180 degrees from ‘just do it’.  Upon taking a close look, I saw that my resistance was asking me to reassess a business decision. My clue to look deeper came when I noticed that I felt trapped by that decision. It seemed that I had to do it: no choice, no renegotiation, ‘just do it’. Ugh!

What was it that had me feel trapped? Working with my coach (thank you Patrece!), I realized that I had made a decision to essentially trade my personal peace for a short term financial gain.  I would likely suffer (rather than laugh) all the way to the bank. It’s little wonder that I was resisting. The gain wasn’t worth it.

My willingness to look at my resistance to doing a few small actions presented me with the gift of this awareness.  Had I barreled through and ‘just done’ those things, I mostly likely would have created a week of stress. And that would have taken me significant energy to recover from.  In resistance is the gift.

As I began to see the situation from this perspective, a clear course of action revealed itself. I needed to renegotiate a promise with a customer. Surprisingly, I felt no resistance. That path felt much lighter. After some initial reluctance, the customer agreed. This week is unfolding nicely.

I’m not suggesting that there aren’t times when we need to overcome resistance and just get ourselves into action.  I’m sure that I’ll have those from time to time as I continue this sojourn.  Our learning opportunity is one of discernment, of stepping back and taking a look at our resistance to determine whether it is simply lazy, childish avoidance (yes, we do); an underlying fear that it’s time to address; or, as with me this week, it wants my attention for the sake of inviting me to take a deeper look at a choice that I’ve made.

Staying In Tune With Our Unique Rhythm

Sometimes we play ...

Everyone and everything has a different rhythm.   Conditions become chaotic when you are not in a position to manage the harmonics of your core energy to create.  Gregge Tiffen (The Journey Continues: Time Travels – July, 2010)

As I look back on a fun, whirlwind week with visiting friends and ahead to the many guests scheduled to stay here at the Dragonfly House over the next several weeks, I have a keen awareness of just how different our individual rhythms are. Each of us marches to the beat of our own drummer.  Or, we give our power to others (partners, employers, children, etc.) to set our pace.  We might even use goals or set deadlines that are contrary to our natural rhythm in an effort to be ‘productive’.

Learning my rhythm continues to be a big part of my life experiment and experience. Although the learning never stops, I’d say that I do a pretty good job of honoring my natural rhythm as I understand it. I think that my greatest learning is doing so with grace (or at least a modicum thereof).

None of us live in isolation. Our lives require coordination with others and with their unique rhythms and commitments.  Perhaps it’s no wonder that there is so much chaos and discordance in our world. It makes me wonder:

What if one of the keys to personal (and, therefore, planetary) peace is to learn to maintain our rhythm while allowing others with whom we live, work, and play to do the same?

The simplicity of this idea draws me inward. Looking back for just a moment, I notice how testy and demanding I become when I’m feel that staying in my rhythm is threatened. I have little room for grace.

A deep breath and a spark of curiosity open the door for wondering how I might engage with others by putting rhythm on the table as a part of the conversation. It seems to me that doing so would create an environment that is much friendlier, one where grace might show up naturally with ease.  I think it will take some experimentation and lots of practice to master maintaining my rhythm with grace.

And, the resulting personal peace will be well worth the effort. 

After thousands of years of war, perhaps learning to step into our own rhythm with grace may contribute one small step toward creating not just a peaceful personal life, but peace on the planet as well.

Other times we rest.

Loving Life

"When you love the life you are living, you have the life you love." - Gregge Tiffen

We have a choice about how to be with the experiences that life presents. And, we have the free will to choose what we will do with them. What I’ve come to appreciate is that every experience is a learning opportunity when I’m willing to pay attention to what’s going on, what I’m doing, and how I’m doing it.

I’m discovering joy in this attention, particularly in some of my daily routines like building a fire each morning to warm my home. Through that experience each day and the preparation required I’m learning many things about wood, how to arrange kindling for a good start, and such. I’m already thinking ahead to next winter – purchasing my wood earlier so that it will be dryer, stacking it in a different place, etc.

That’s valuable learning, but it only scratches the surface. This seemingly simple daily event is teaching me much more. I’ve come to appreciate the focus, attention, and patience required to create a fire that will warm my home. Those requirements make it the perfect activity for my morning quiet time, even though I have to get up from my cozy perch and put my reading or writing on pause for a few moments.

Each morning I’m reminded that I choose how to approach the experience. I’m aware that I could choose to make it a ‘chore’ and be grumpy about how long it takes to warm the room and that my reading or writing has been interrupted. I could work up some real juice when the kindling doesn’t ignite with the first match.

And, that daily reminder strengthens my capacity to choose to love and learn from all of my life, even those events that in the moment I might prefer not to experience: an injured toe, ice melt leaking in the garage, the prospective client that chooses another coach, not receiving an expected greeting from a loved one, allowing myself to be duped into a sales presentation having been told I’d ‘won a prize’.

Those seemingly little things in life can teach us so much and remind us to “love the life we are living,” so we can “have the life we love”. In this month of love, what ‘little thing’ in life can you love this week?

Using What I Know

"Knowledge not used is not knowledge." - Gregge Tiffen

"Without knowledge there is no wisdom." - Cindy Reinhardt

This week, I experienced a wake-up call about using what I know. Perhaps that alarm rings more than I know, but for sure this week it got my attention. Of course, I continue my journey of learning that the alarm is not to tell me that I’m doing (or not doing) something wrong, that I’m bad, etc. – you know that self-deprecating voice. Rather the ring was a gentle nudge that I have an opportunity to learn or, perhaps to use what I already know.

Once again, a daily reading (this one from Mike Dooley who has written daily notes from The Universe - http://www.tut.com/ - for 14 years) was right on target:

Isn't it odd, Cindy? Of all the people in all the world who are starting to "get it," how few actually give it to themselves. I think it's because they simply forget to live it … Live it, Cindy - The Universe

That little bell rang for me one evening when I went to bed feeling exhausted, drained, and as if I’d accomplished nothing. That night, I didn’t, as is my practice upon retiring, breathe deeply and give thanks for the day. My out loud ‘Thank you for this day!’ was MIA. I tossed and turned for some time, before I ‘got’ that I needed to review the day to discover why.

As I took time to reflect, I realized that I had walked through the motions and activities of that day with something other than what was in front of me on my mind. I’d engaged in a number of distractions that weren’t especially enjoyable or rewarding. I’d been thinking about something that, although it does need a response, had NO-thing to do with what I wanted to accomplish that day.

My focus had been past (replaying the event) and future (what will happen?). I hadn’t been present to the beauty of the mountains on my walks, the meals I’d prepared and eaten, the wood moved, playing with Luke, the tasks I tackled, or even the ‘entertainment’ that I used as distraction.

I know the importance of being present to and at choice about where my thoughts, my attention are placed. But on this day (and more than I wish to admit), I wasn’t using, or as Dooley said, ‘living’, what I know. The cost was the peace that being grateful brings me.

So, for today and the days ahead, I’m committed to full presence, especially awareness of my thoughts and being at choice about them. What about you? How much of what you know are you living?

The Way That Is In You

"Do not compare, do not measure. No other way is like yours. All other ways deceive and tempt you. You must fulfill the way that is in you." - Carl Jung

As I was snuggled in front of the fire several mornings past about to begin my morning reading and quiet time practice, Luke, who had been sleeping at my feet, woke and began to scratch. He's been doing that more than usual,

and it reminded me of a comment that a dog trainer made some time ago about scratching becoming a habit in "OCD dogs".

Remembering her comment triggered a series of thoughts about our cultural habit of diagnosing and labeling behavior that doesn't fit the culture's definition of 'normal' (think ADD, ADHD, OCD, etc.).

I thought about how it seems to me we are trying to create a 'one size fits all' culture that, while it gives lip service to individuality, seeks conformity to some not quite clear definition of "normal". One size hardly fits anyone well. This is what I see when I look at our education system, much of the business and corporate world, and even health care. Learn this. Do this. Take this drug. Don't be different. Conform.

After a few minutes, I put aside that thinking and opened my Science of Mind
magazine to start my daily reading. The quote above greeted me, and I chuckled at the 'coincidence'.

Then as I reflected more deeply, I felt deep gratitude for the path that is uniquely mine and for daring to step out to discover and experiment with how the Universe works.

I'm grateful for those teachers along the way who encourage me. I'm grateful too for those who discourage and need for me to conform. Each provides information and experiences for me to discover more about 'the way that is in me'. I'm grateful for the experiences that I glide through with ease. I'm learning to see those that seem not so easy, even painful, as experiments in discovering and developing 'my way'. And, I'm grateful for them as well.

I'm reminded of Frank Sinatra's hit from my college days, My Way.  I trust I'm nowhere near my 'final curtain', but I aim to be able to sing it with joy and sincerity when I get there. For me, that is yet another way to define success.

Reflection for the Week: How true are you to ‘the way that is in you’?