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’?

Home!

"There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home. There’s no place like home…" - Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz

As I sit down to write this morning, I’ve been home from my wonderful 11 day Thanksgiving holiday for less than 24 hours. I’m struck more deeply than ever by how much I love my home, Luke and the quiet, consistent beauty of the woods where our home is nestled. I’m in that blissful ‘I never want to leave’ state of peace that coming home brings.

I’m also mindful that the events I experienced on this trip are rich territory for reflection now that I’m home, where reflection comes easily and nurtures me in so many ways.

Naturally, the memories of a fun, relaxing week with my cousin and her dogs in eastern Washington top the list. How we easily adapted when a dead battery aborted a planned hike out to Kamiak Butte, choosing to hike an urban trail, and stopping for coffee along the way. No lattes in the woods, and nature’s beauty abounds in the rolling hills of her small college community.

Although I love my morning walks with Luke, it was nice to have a break from our routine and to sip tea or coffee over a daily newspaper with comics (in color!) each morning. I saw a couple movies (5 minutes away vs. 60 miles) and enjoyed great food, including a traditional Thanksgiving feast. Each morning I awoke looking up at a piece of art woven by a friend here in Crestone. And, most important of all, just hanging out with my cousin in the beauty of her art-filled home made for a memorable trip. Friends who know us both say we’re more like sisters, and I agree.

Events at the outset of the trip are also on the reflection list, including how I navigated a situation that arose with the person I’d engaged to stay with Luke. When she didn’t arrive as planned, a friend came to rescue him from six hours in his kennel (I thought he’d be there a couple hours at most) while I was on the road to Denver some 200 miles away. After a restless night wresting with not having care for Luke and what seemed to be an aborted trip, my friend called and said “I want Luke to stay here with me while you’re away. Go. Have fun!” And, that I did.

As I settle in to sort mail, pay bills, stack wood along with other so called ‘chores’, I have the joy of reflection to look forward to in this season that, for me, evokes just that: going within and reacquainting me with me.

Reflection for the Week: What rich territory is available for you to reflect upon as we enter this winter season?

Giving Thanks

This week, I am steeped in gratitude. Although I live life with deep gratitude, this week of Thanksgiving as I slow down and spend time with family I am especially grateful for so much - family, friends, home, nature's beauty, health, and (of course) Cool Hand Luke Skywalker.  I'm grateful for the many people whose paths mine has crossed and the learning that happens in those intersections.

I often quote Gregge Tiffen, whose private sessions and writing continue to have a profound impact on my life.  Reading and reflecting on his Thanksgiving Prayer in a way that personalizes it for me has become a part of my personal Thanksgiving celebration. Thus, I share it with you once again this year.

May you have some time for quiet reflection and for giving Thanks in your own personal, special way.

Thanksgiving Prayer by Gregge Tiffen

Dear God:

I wonder sometimes how you put up with me and all the other people who call upon you only in times of need, but hardly ever in times of celebration.

I am so grateful for your patience and understanding and know that, if I would but try, I could express the same to all that I meet.  I am ever mindful of your infinite wisdom and thankful that it expresses in a quiet tolerance that allows me to experience life in my own way.

I am happy in the understanding that, although you hold all knowledge, I am allowed to search and discover in my own way and at my own pace.  I appreciate you leaving me to my own devices and methods, so that the thrill of discovery is never diminished or impaired and becomes a lasting part of my personal wisdom.

I thank you for the opportunity that I get every day to grow and expand in mind and consciousness; and for allowing me to make my errors and accept my victories, for in them I find my identity and my reason for being.

Thanks too, for the people who have crossed my path.  Some have been warm and loving and some have been hostile, but all have shown me that goodness and mercy comes in all sizes and shapes.

 And most of all, thank you for granting me the experience of self awareness. Without that I would never understand the warmth of the sun or the brilliance of a winter's day, nor could I comprehend the wonder of a child's smile.

I know that I don't come to you often enough, to sit silently in your lap, but when I do, there is always room for me there and your comforting arm is always around me.  I am so thankful that I am your child, and right or wrong, your love for me for never changes.  Thank you for welcoming me back home once again on this Thanksgiving Day.

©G-Systems International ………. http://www.g-systems.com

Choosing Faith Over Fear

"So, first of all, let me assert my firm belief that the only thing we have to fear is fear itself—nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror which paralyzes needed efforts to convert retreat into advance." - Franklin Delano Roosevelt (in his first inaugural address – 1933)

We’ve all felt that “nameless, unreasoning, unjustified terror” that stops us in our tracks. Sometimes though, fear isn’t so obvious. It creeps into our thoughts as concern and into our words and deeds as we navigate daily life. Perhaps we don’t notice feeling especially fearful, but we find ourselves worrying. That worry can lead us down any number of destructive paths. It blocks us from the creative flow of the Universe.

The antidote is faith. I’m coming to understand more deeply that I respond (or react) to life’s events from one or the other – fear or faith. One brings me joy and curiosity. The other brings stress and pain.

Developing faith first requires us to know what we believe. I personally believe in an abundant, loving Universe that offers a cornucopia of opportunity of all shapes, forms and colors. All that is asked of me is to ask, trust, and step forward to receive.

After we come to understand what we believe (or perhaps even what we think we might or could believe), faith requires consistent practice, bringing our belief into everything, to each event life brings our way. In making this my practice (and in sometimes forgetting to do so) I’ve strengthened my conviction about the nature of the Universe.

This week, I’ve had the opportunity to choose faith rather than stepping into fear when, much to my chagrin, I discovered that I’d made a costly error. I misread the ‘free trial period’ offer for a course that I wanted to try out, and when I called to cancel, I was told that I wouldn’t receive a full refund because I was beyond the trial period. I felt a surge of energy. I paused. I took a breath. I made my case and admitted my error as I talked with a customer service representative and up the chain to his boss. I kept in check what could have easily become fear expressed as anger.

When the conversation ended and after a brief ‘you should have paid more attention’ conversation with myself, I plugged into my belief that the resources I need will come and that being angry would block the flow. I stopped any conversation in my head about ‘them’ or ‘me’. At day’s end an email informed me that ‘voila’ I had a new client, a step on the path to recovering my loss.

This week, I’ve also had the opportunity to observe a community conversation around the budget and proposed fee increases by the agency that provides water and sanitation services. Some residents have expressed concern that increases will continue and they won’t be able to afford to live in the community. As the conversation has unfolded via email to board members (I serve on the board) and on social media, I’ve observed some who engage in angry, inaccurate comments stated as fact. They seem to have no interest in dialog. From my perspective, they are grounded in fear.

Others are concerned, but come forth with questions and curiosity about how we can do this differently. I sense that, while they don’t know the answers, they have faith that we can chart a course that works. Watching this conversation up close and personal and preparing to participate in it when I chair tomorrow’s board meeting, has me wonder ‘what is the world we will create when we choose faith over fear’? I don’t know, but my imagination likes the look and feel of this possibility for myself personally, for my community, and for the planet.

Doing vs. Living

"We progress by experiencing what is happening with our full awareness. We should never go through any condition or event without perceiving the full essence of that experience through our own senses. When was the last time you really tasted a French fry?" - Gregge Tiffen

This quote which comes from an essay I was reading last night, after a tiring day, woke me up to the awareness that I’d gone through the day ‘doing’ rather than ‘living’. As I reflected back on the day, I understood that my experiencing being tired was due in large part to this lack of awareness. Snuggling in to that awareness, I experienced a great night’s sleep.

I awoke with the crystal clear intention to ‘live’ this day. To be aware as I built the morning fire, engaged in my morning quiet time, walked Luke, prepared our breakfast, and circled back to address the issue that didn’t reach resolution in my ‘doing’ of the day before.

I noticed thoughts about what had happened yesterday continued to pop in along with what I thought my response was going to be. One by one, I set them aside (or at the very least made the attempt) and lived in gratitude for what was before me in the moment, be it the cozy fire, an inspiring quote, snowy morning air, Luke, or breakfast (I really tasted each bite of the egg, onion and spinach; the sausage as well as the whole grain toast!)

I set this intention because I realized that in ‘doing’ life, I ended the day tired and dissatisfied despite having ‘done’ many things. This became obvious when at day’s end after a nice long shower, I was drying my hair, stewing about the day, and suddenly the bathroom went dark, the dryer off. I burst out laughing at the humor of the Universe as I realized that I’d forgotten to turn off the electric heater. I had indeed blown a circuit in my approach to the day.

I became aware of opportunities missed to notice how ALL of me was feeling about how I was going through the day. I suspect there were many clues that may have guided me on a different path than the one that ended as it did. And, I became aware that in ‘doing’ I missed the sense of enjoyment and gratitude for each of my daily routines.

Today, I’m ‘living’ the actions that need to be taken with the issue that arose yesterday. I’m betting that the resolution will flow easily and that at day’s end, I’ll have the best reward of all – a sense of personal satisfaction.

Invitation for the Week: Explore whether you are living in awareness or simply doing your way through each day.

Managing Our Stories

"No matter what the lips may be saying, the inner thought outspeaks them, and the unspoken word often carries more weight than the spoken." - Ernest Holmes – The Science of Mind

This week I discovered (much to my chagrin) I have some distance to go to manage the stories I manufacture about others and events that waste my energy. You know the stories that I refer to. They’re the ones that become like that catchy tune you find yourself singing in your head.

I don’t know about you, but when I feel totally justified in my position, I don’t easily let it go. In my head, I tell the world what a jerk someone was. And, I tell him (or her) off, citing how stupid (or some variation thereof) they’ve been. I need a ‘no trespassing’ sign for my thoughts!

On some level there must be a perceived payoff. Perhaps it’s a twisted version confirming just how smart I am. Ha! Yep, I’m so smart that I’m allowing another to occupy the sacred space of my being. And, the cost of that occupation is huge, wasting my time and my energy focusing on a past event that I can’t change. Or, worse projecting into the future how I might ‘get even’ or ‘show them’. Ugh!

What I realized this week (duh!) is that when I throw away my present, my essence goes right along with it. When I’m holding on to one of those stories, I’m not being who I was designed to be. I’m not deeply connected to nature’s beauty when the static of a story is playing in the background. I’m not attentive to whatever task is at hand. I’m not really focused on the present conversation with someone else or to what I’m reading. Most of all, I’m not present to me.

And, the atmosphere I create is not the atmosphere I want to live in. Growth whether personally or in the garden requires nurturing, patience and time. These onions planted along with carrot, beet, turnip and other seeds reached their harvest time just this week.

I’m grateful for the person and event that sparked this deeper awareness of something that I’ve known for a long while. And, for my willingness to notice both how far I’ve come and that there is still some road to travel. Now, back to nature and the presence she deserves!

Exploration for the Week:  What stories (or songs) are replaying in your head?  Are they supporting you or do they need to be banished?

All Hallow's Eve

"Each of us is a living spirit. When you’re dead, you’re not dead. You are very much alive." - Gregge Tiffen

Last week many in our community celebrated the life of a feisty artist who died just a few days shy of her 91st birthday. How her life was celebrated seemed to me to create a bridge between what we know as ‘living’ on this side and what we think of as ‘dead’ on the other. The ceremony itself and the words spoken by family and friends were a beautiful reminder that this body I inhabit is only one small slice in the bigger pie that is my life as a living spirit.

That event and the coming of Halloween on October 31 presented an opportunity to take a look at the nature of life as I understand it and at the messages that surround me in nature, natural billboards that proclaim “life everlasting”.

For me, trees carry this message beautifully in the cycles of the seasons and in what happens when the tree dies. The tree lives on long after its death. It may simply decompose in the forest, providing a rich environment for new tree life to sprout. Or, the dead tree may become firewood, like that I’ve been stacking, ready to break the morning chill.

In the autumn, brilliantly colored leaves that sprouted in spring’s warmth gently fall to the ground. At quick glance, the tree appears dead during the winter. But, it will burst forth again after the snow melts and it is touched by the warmth of the sun.

I believe life is like that on this planet we call home. When, this body is done, I believe that, like the tree, I will live on, continuing to develop, learn and grow. Then at some perfect future point, one that is just right for my learning, another body, another life will come along. And I’ll catch another ride.

This week as I sit by the fire in the quiet beauty of a fading fall, I ask to know more about the other side. I want a glimpse of what life is like beyond the bounds of this body that is, at least for now, my home.

Stack Wood. Carry Rocks.

"Before Enlightenment chop wood carry water, after Enlightenment, chop wood carry water." - Zen Proverb

This week I’ve been stacking wood in preparation for winter and carrying rocks up to the labyrinth I’m building in the woods behind Dragonfly House. Along the way, I discovered what a joy these tasks are when I engage in them mindfully. Yep, duh, smile (we all know this, right?)!

So often when doing such tasks, I find myself immersed in thinking about something else: the project I’m working on that isn’t going like I want it to, the long list of other things I could (or at that moment think I ‘should’) be doing, or who I can get to give me advice about a roof repair. More worry than thinking, if I’m honest. I came to the awareness this week that I was wasting energy, my precious energy. And, perhaps more importantly, I realized that I was depriving myself of joy.

And, so I shifted gears.

The task of hauling rocks up and placing them in the labyrinth, became an exercise in communing with each rock and with the land and the trees of the labyrinth space. As I let go, each rock spoke more clearly than the one before, guiding me where it was to be placed. Some of the rocks placed earlier asked to be moved. I joyfully granted their wish. In the energy of this sacred space, I began to deepen both my connection to all that is AND my independence and freedom as an individual. You might guess that I find this much more rewarding and productive than worry. Pure joy! And, I have a sense of satisfaction not only in completing the work, but also in my approach.

Now, as I’ve go out to stack wood each day, I set aside the projects and decisions around which I feel stuck. I fully engage in the geometric puzzle of stacking wood so that each stack is stable (don’t ask how many I’ve toppled along the way!) and allows air to move and further dry my fuel. More joy and satisfaction!

An added benefit is a sense that the experience has strengthened my patience muscle. As I shift back to those ‘stuck’ projects and decisions in the weeks ahead, I’m guessing that patience will serve me well. And, that they will move forward at just the right time and in just the right direction.

Success comes in many forms and this week, my own personal SuccessZone has been one of discovery and deepened conviction. To joy, satisfaction, and patience, I add gratefulness. Oh, and I didn’t miss a moment of the beauty of the colorful Autumn here in the Rockies!

Invitation for the Week: As you go about some routine task, notice where your thoughts are. Bring them back to you, to the task at hand, and discover what joy you may be missing.

A Dollop of Courage

"Courage comes from experiencing inborn fears." - Gregge Tiffen

I danced with a fear this week. It wasn’t a very graceful dance until the experience neared its completion and I was able to breathe in a breath of understanding and gratitude.

The dance began with an observation about Luke. He wasn’t his normal playful, snuggly, loving self for a few days and I began to ‘worry’ about what I should ‘do’ about this ‘problem’.

Over those few days I hovered over him as we went about our normal routines. I gave him some extra care and, along the way, began to think and worry that he was detaching. That’s when the fear kicked in with a force I could name: I was afraid of losing Luke.

I hurt deeply. The memory of another pet loss four years ago when Ellie, another precious dog that I cared for part-time, was hit by a car and killed showed up front and center. I trembled. I wept. I smothered a resistant Luke in love.

And, then I remembered.

I remembered that even dogs have days where they need their space and distance.

I remembered that consciousness has no idea of this thing we call death, even though the body’s journey is a finite one.

I remembered that all I experience in life benefits my learning – the learning that lives on in consciousness after the body is done.

I remembered that every experience of the deep and the dark holds the potential for light to follow.

That’s when I could smile, look back with a dab of understanding, and be grateful that, perhaps, I’d added a dollop of courage to my consciousness. Now, with loving, playful Luke curled up at my feet, I think that one dollop may be two.

Perhaps the fear was only at the surface and deeper reflection or another experience will reveal something more. That will come if and when I need it for my growth. Then I can call upon those dollops of courage to support me as I engage in the dance once more.

In the past I’ve been hesitant to call fear by its name. I needed to be ‘brave’. I avoided the dance. Now that I see fear as essential for developing courage, the tempo of the dance picks up and I’ll keep my dancing shoes nearby. Satisfied! And, Grateful!

Transition Zones

"We are constantly in a situation of applying the condition of re-adjustment." - Gregge Tiffen

As day breaks this morning, we’re in the path of two colliding weather systems – a winter storm moving in from the north and west, the remnants of a hurricane from the east. The beautiful vistas I often share are hidden in the clouds. These two systems won’t compete. They will simply meet and create our weather for the next couple days. At the moment it’s a gentle rain. The showers could continue, or they could become snow or flash flooding.

It’s a transition time, that time when it can be frosty one morning and 50 degrees the next. It’s a time for completing the harvest on the one hand, preparing for winter on the other. Re-adjustment. We’ve brought in all but the hardiest root veggies and a few winter squash. I’m curious whether the green tomatoes will ripen slowly enough to last until Thanksgiving as they did last year.

Preparing for winter in the mountains means procuring and stacking wood, shifting the summer fire ‘go bags’ (those things that I’d need to survive and those things I treasure in the event of an evacuation due to fire) to the winter ‘emergency travel bag’ (what I need to survive in an emergency on the road), and making sure that I have food and water on hand for at least a couple weeks in the event of a major storm. It also means moving clothes around in the closet – putting away the short sleeves and pulling out the turtlenecks, sweaters and scarves for soon those 50 degree mornings will be just a memory and the frost will be a deep freeze. Re-adjustment continued.

And, after a busy active summer – buying and improving a home along with opening a B&B, I notice an internal transition as well. I feel a pull to draw inward, not to hibernate but to slow down, to assess my ‘year to date’, and, in this time between the full moon lunar eclipse this week and the solar eclipse that will come with the new moon in a couple weeks, to look ahead to what experiences I want to create in the winter months ahead. Re-adjusting from the inside out.

That’s the invitation that the change of seasons (any change really!) brings. So as you don the winter clothes and put away your summer duds (or the reverse, if you happen to be in the southern hemisphere), give yourself the time and attention to invite your soul to join the party. 

What is its longing as light of days shortens and the darkness makes its presence more known?