Let Them Tell Their Stories

It’s the day after Christmas and all through the house not a creature is stirring…Well, maybe just a little. Everyone fell asleep downstairs last night while watching a movie.  I brought the DVD upstairs to finish it, and feel asleep too. I think I was burned out and wasn’t feeling very well yesterday so I forced myself to say in bed this morning until almost 10:00. That hasn’t happened in years. Fortunately, the kids were very quiet this morning, no fights or outbursts. Not one little peep from the dog either. Very nice. I figured since no one is looking for me it would be a good time to catch up on some writing.

The last few days have been very interesting. I supposed I can always say that, but I mean from a people standpoint. Friday night I had dinner with an old friend that I hadn’t seen since his wife’s funeral. She passed early this year and was barely 31. I know a lot of people, and these two were the only two that I felt had a relationship such as I have with my wife. They were genuinely friends; he sincerely loved her for better or worse. And there was a lot of (medical) worse over the last 6 years. I know a lot of guys love their wife’s, but this was different, it was more. He’s seems to be doing reasonable well. We talked for hours. We talked about his work and his music and sometimes about her. We talked a lot about religion and spirituality and what’s next. He told me about some of the religious conversations that he’s had lately with other people. It was obvious that he was upset by some of them. It became very apparent once more that while words can heal people, they could just as quickly decimate the fragile grip someone may have on their reality. I listened and I asked questions and I listened some more. I offered the occasional opinion and belief, and realized that I could’ve said half, and it would have been just as effective. Sometimes it seems if you just sit still and listen to someone who needs to tell their story, that they can use you like a ladder to climb out of whatever hole they are in. I think people who have been traumatized can right themselves like a capsized kayaker as long as there is something stable around them and no one tries to “help” too much.

A few days ago I spoke to a man who just found out that he has a serious medical condition. A week ago the same man talked to me about his not speaking to his father. One of the things he remembers precipitating this situation was his father telling him that he was “worthless”.  I thought a lot about that, about worthless and useless. I thought useless isn’t so bad. A huge block of ice (it’s very cold here) would be useless to me right now.  But certainly it’s not worthless. Worthless is a word designed to do something that a man made weapon could never do, to injure the soul. To slice right into it and in someway produce a mortal would. It seems that there are a lot of people walking around with such wounds. They may be functioning at various levels of competency, but the damage is there and it will invariably show itself.  A son who fell out of favor with his father, a daughter who was supposed to be a son and is never allowed to forget it, a wife who’s trust and love were reciprocated with dishonor and deceit. A mother whose son is sent to a war zone far away. The loving husband whose wife passes at much to tender an age…. The list is endless, the pain is endless, and everywhere. The souls of this world are taking a beating everyday.

For a few years now I have wanted to start a practice where I could provide Life Coaching, Counseling, etc. I almost constantly find myself talking to or working with someone I know on their life’s issues.  I feel very satisfied when they walk away feeling better about themselves or a situation, or when they can change their perspective and see from other vantage points.  I’d like to work with people who are facing stumbling blocks that get in the way of their everyday living.  I don’t know if I’ll ever officially start my practice. But I know that I will continue to listen to all the injured souls that come my way.  I think that we all have an unlimited supply of just what it takes to repair those injured souls, compassion. Not love, not pity, not education, not ego, not anything else. Just compassion, and lots of it.

A Return to Love

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small doesn't serve the world. There's nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We are born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us, it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”

Marianne Williamson - A Return to Love

Expand & Transcend

When you are inspired by some great purpose, some extraordinary project, all of your thoughts break their bonds:  your mind transcends limitations, your consciousness expands in every direction and you find yourself in a new, great and wonderful world. Dormant forces, faculties and talents become alive and you discover yourself to be a greater person than you ever dreamed yourself to be.

Pantanjali

Makes sense when you think about it.

Remember: "Life should NOT be a journey to the grave with the
intention of arriving safely in an attractive and well preserved body,
but rather to skid in sideways - Chardonnay in one hand - chocolate in the other -
body thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and screaming --- "WOO HOO, What a Ride!"

To kill an American

To Kill an American

You probably missed it in the rush of news last week, but there was
actually a report that someone in Pakistan had published in a newspaper
an offer of a reward to anyone who killed an American, any American.

So an Australian dentist wrote an editorial the following day to let
everyone know what an American is, so they would know when they found
one.

"An American is English, or French, or Italian, Irish, German, Spanish,
Polish, Russian or Greek. An American may also be Canadian, Mexican,
African, Indian, Chinese, Japanese, Korean, Australian, Iranian, Asian,
or Arab, or Pakistani or Afghan.

An American may also be a Comanche, Cherokee, Osage, Blackfoot, Navaho,
Apache, Seminole or one of the many other tribes known as native
Americans.

An American is Christian, or he could be Jewish, or Buddhist, or Muslim.

In fact, there are more Muslims in America than in Afghanistan. The only
difference is that in America they are free to worship as each of them
chooses.

An American is also free to believe in no religion. For that he will
answer only to God, not to the government, or to armed thugs claiming to
speak for the government and for God.

An American lives in the most prosperous land in the history of the
world.
The root of that prosperity can be found in the Declaration of
Independence, which recognizes the God given right of each person to the
pursuit of happiness.

An American is generous. Americans have helped out just about every
other nation in the world in their time of need, never asking a thing in
return.

When Afghanistan was over-run by the Soviet army 20 years ago, Americans
came with arms and supplies to enable the people to win back their
country!

As of the morning of September 11, Americans had given more than any
other nation to the poor in Afghanistan. Americans welcome the best of
everything...the best products, the best books, the best music, the best
food, the best services. But they also welcome the least.

The national symbol of America, The Statue of Liberty, welcomes your
tired and your poor, the wretched refuse of your teeming shores, the
homeless, tempest tossed. These in fact are the people who built
America.

Some of them were working in the Twin Towers the morning of September
11, 2001 earning a better life for their families. It's been told that
the World Trade Center victims were from at least 30 different
countries, cultures, and first languages, including those that aided and
abetted the terrorists.

So you can try to kill an American if you must. Hitler did. So did
General Tojo, and Stalin, and Mao Tse-Tung, and other blood-thirsty
tyrants in the world. But, in doing so you would just be killing
yourself. Because Americans are not a particular people from a
particular place. They are the embodiment of the human spirit of
freedom. Everyone who holds to that spirit, everywhere, is an American.

Sunday Morning

Another Sunday morning. I just finished making breakfast and cleaning up the dishes. I forgot that Cam doesn’t like cheese in his eggs. So sorry buddy. I was able to do a little more reading in the latest (In the Presence of High Beings) of 6 or 7 books I’ve started in the last few months. This one is about a Therapist in Hawaii, and her relationship and experiences with the many hotel kept and wild dolphins. She feels that they have communicated with each other, and to the extent that they have taught her many things about how to live life with joy and fun and love and true thoughts. Interestingly, she comments on the movie “what the bleep do we know?” and the whole manifest your world through your thoughts issue.

It seems that for years I was reading and reading about many different peoples, religions, spiritual practices, scientific studies, etc, and they were all different with occasional similarities. Lately though, this year in particular, things seem to either come together or maybe just come into focus for me. Frankly, I’m grateful for the convergence. I think it started when I started to study Shamanic practices from around the world. More and more commonalities seemed to appear. More agreements from different cultures, from different places, and times. More of “Be present in the moment because nothing else exists” more “The universe responds to your intense desires, be clear about what you want” more “Be careful what you wish for, you just might get it”.  

Frozen water crystals that are beautiful when they are around a laughing baby, but are frozen in ugly patterns when they are around conflict. Sub-atomic particles that seem to respond to the expectations of researchers.  Shamanic healing performed from miles away, much less at a distance.  More and more people believing in, knowing about and seeking practitioners of energy therapies such as Reiki. We are clearly affecting our surrounding at a quantum level. Stand by people, something is changing, and it is happening at an incredible rate. Never before in history has any kind of knowledge, idea or information been able to be transferred from one person to tens of thousands in less than 24 hours. It’s almost as if the world was waiting for the Internet. A great tool for knowledge transfer as well as financial equality.

Its funny how many things in this world are “Like” something else. Like, raising a teenager is like fishing. You need to use some kind of bait to keep them close and interested, but you don’t want them to see the attached strings. Or, you want to keep the relatively close (hooked) so you need a adjust the drag from time to time (choose your battles) to give them some room to run (space) cause if you tighten the drag down to much (strict) they’ll rip the hook out (run away, physically or emotionally) and they are lost forever. Unless of course there are others fishing for your child (friends or acquaintances) with better bait (sex, drugs, alcohol, money) and bigger hooks.

I am sitting here on November 6th after a flash thunderstorm, watching the sun reflect off of the most beautiful yellow, orange and red leaves that I can remember seeing. Leaves that in previous years would have been gone a few weeks ago. Not only that, but There is a single gorgeous yellow rose next to my patio just swaying in the wind. Did I mention that it is November? I know that in another few days most of those leaves will be browning up and falling away. Like a light bulb burning more brightly just prior to burning out and going dark. I appreciate the leaves and the roses holding out so long this year. These are living forces that I brought together around my home and I love them all. My maples, roses, cherries, oaks and many many pines. All the plants around the ponds and the yard that contributed to creating a peaceful place for my family to grow. Maybe I appreciate their efforts more this year because in 2 weeks we will be moving away. Not far away, but away none-the-less. I know it may sound silly, but I will miss them all. All my friends that stood almost silently by casting cool shadows as my wife and I raised our babies into young men, as we shared our morning coffee and thoughts of life, as we shared our evening coronas and vented to each other. Burn brightly my friends, and know that you are forever burned into the pages of my mind.

Goodbye & God Speed Margie

“Goodbye & God Speed Margie”
June 15, 1953 - October 9, 2005

She was one of four children, girls were they all
Poor Uncle Pete should’ve owned a mall

Sometime around “66” or maybe “65”
Mom, Margie and the little ones moved to Brainard Drive

Margie worked selling donuts and then fried chicken
Needless to say, there was a lot of finger “lickin”

She sold Avon, and Bingo she would play
She could listen to Barry Manilow every single day

She didn’t have a child, not the 2 legged kind
But she had her Abby, and they loved each other just fine

She loved her bears, there were so many of Boyd’s
It wouldn’t be a surprise, if they were insured by Lloyds

She Loved Victorian décor all over her house
But oh dear god, she couldn’t stand a mouse

She loved watching skaters, over the ice they would soar
But she wouldn’t stand for any marks on her floor

She worked at Goodrich & then PolyOne
But it was off to Las Vegas when she wanted some fun

We were surprised that gambling was her thing
But maybe it was just the sound of the slots going ching ching

As if personally responsible for everyone’s lips
Her purse wouldn’t contain less than five or six chapsticks

She quietly gave, her family, friends and many a cause
She was rather like, an everyday Santa Clause

She loved Stancato’s and Louie too
But most of all, she loved all of you

She love all of you, in many ways,
That’s why you’ve been asked to gather today

She’s still giving, even after her souls flight
We just learned that she gave two, the precious gift of sight

While her body gave up at too young an age
Always remember, her soul was set free, like a dove from a cage

Our Margie,
A Person Well Loved, And a Life Well Lived

Passion

I want to live.
No more halfhearted efforts
No more half-baked ideas
No more half-full glasses
Just wholehearted, fresh-baked,
overflowing life.

I want to live on purpose.
No more aimless wandering
No more squandered existence
No more squelched ambition
Just on-target, death-defying,
carpe diem courage.

I want to live in connection.
No more superficial engagement
No more destructive pleasures
No more cold rationality
Just bone-deep, life-affirming,
stream-fed intuition.

I want to live with joy.
No more sour grapes
No more jaded cynicism
No more inflated self-importance
Just awe-filled, enthusiastic,
openhearted passion.

I want to live
on purpose, in connection, with joy.
I want to live
filled with courage, guided by intuition,
centered in passion.
I want to live.

- Bob Tschannen-Moran (c) 2003

On the Dark Side of The Son

Today is my eldest sons 16th birthday. Happy Birthday #1!; even though you’ll probably never see this blog. It’s a funny thing the way relationships develop and change over time. It’s actually quite painful sometimes. The baby became a boy, and the boy a young man. And by all accounts, a fine young man according to teachers, coaches and parents of friends. But, as for me, I envy the relationship they all seem to be able to enjoy with him. I rarely can get the time of day from him; it’s usually an unintelligible grunt. Unless of course he needs something from me, then it’s rather clear. I guess this is probably normal, I don’t know. I’d like to think that I’m doing everything right for him, but I’m sure I’m not. After all, he did not come with a manual. I do struggle to maintain a balance between parent and not too much friend, but I don’t think he wants or needs me as a friend. Ironically, his friends seem to enjoy my company. I guess that’s why I think it’s more about the “us” and less about him or me individually. I do often try to solicit his opinions or feeling on things, and offer mine when asked….or not asked.  When he does ask about things, we usually go pretty deep. I generally don’t like short answers as they don’t usually do a question justice and rarely offer any relevance. On occasion he even seems to enjoy the long way around an issue. He is extremely intelligent, insightful and clever. He’s one of those people that “gets it” no matter what it is. I know that he hears me and is listening, maybe it’s just the way he processes things. I hear him "talk" or see him IM to and with his friends, offering an ear, and maybe some advice about their issues. He sounds a lot like me. I guess my ego is grateful for that. But I can’t help but wonder why he accepts my lessons/wisdom, but does not seem to accept or want to be around me. There was a time when he lived to see me come through the door. Now he rarely sees me at all. I know that he knows that I am always here for him. I am trying to be patient, hoping that eventually I’ll come back around from the dark side into his light again. It’s kind of like watching life through a 2-way mirror, being able to see and hear everything, but not being able to be a part of it.  

The first step toward change is awareness. The second step is acceptance. 
- Nathaniel Branden

O' Great Spirit

O Great Spirit, give us hearts to understand:
Never to take from our creation's beauty more than we give;
Never to destroy wantonly for furtherance of greed;
Never to deny to give our hands for the building of earth's beauty;
Never to take from her what we cannot use.

Give us hearts to understand:

That to destroy earth's music is to create confusion;
That to wreck her appearance is to blind us to beauty;
That to callously pollute her fragrance is to make a house of stench;
That as we care for her she will care for us.

We have forgotten who we are.
We have sought only our own security.
We have exploited simply for our own ends.
We have distorted our knowledge.
We have abused our power.

Great Spirit, whose dry lands thirst,
Help us find the way to refresh your lands.

Great Spirit, whose waters are choked with debris and pollution,
Help us to find the way to cleanse your waters.

Great Spirit, whose beautiful earth grows ugly with misuse,
Help us to find the way to restore beauty to your handiwork.

Great Spirit, whose creatures are being destroyed,
Help us to find a way to replenish them.

A Few Thoughts

"Never mistake knowledge for wisdom. One helps you make a living; the other helps you make a life."
- Sandra Carey

"If we could read the secret history of our enemies we should find in
each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility."
- Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

The Road Less Traveled

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth
Then took the other as just as fair
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet, knowing how way leads onto way
I doubted if I should ever come back
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence
Two roads diverged in a wood
And I took the one less traveled by
And that has made all the difference

-Robert Frost

The First Step Is Always The Hardest

O.k., a month or so of thinking about it, I mean really thinking. Probably too much thinking as usual, and I setup my very first blog. I think (there I go again) that it took about 2 hours, and I haven't said a thing yet. I suppose the hold up was my vacillating (God, does this thing have a spell checker?) between keeping this relatively anonymous and giving out the url to people I know. I have decided to keep it private, just between you and I. It occurred to me that while it would be great to blog having a baby, or taking a world cruise or remodeling a house for your friends, family and others, blogging my search for relevance, my shadow, missing pieces of soul, etc. might be misunderstood by those closest to me. I suppose also that vacillating, "being in the middle" being the peacemaker and "seeing both sides of the issue" is a recurring theme in my life. Do I flatter myself into thinking this is a sign of great wisdom like some high courts judge (yes, usually I do) or is it a sign of a troubled minded? Or maybe it’s something else all together. Anyway, another reason I want to stay anonymous is that I don’t trust myself not to use this as a forum, and to be completely honest. I don’t want anyone who knows me to ever have to wonder whether I wrote something for me, or if it was slanted for his or her consumption. Besides, I’ve been reading a lot of blogs lately and commented on a few, and I think/hope that maybe there’s a few people out there that might share their opinions or feeling once and a while.

For now, this blog will be my place to discuss the path I’ve been on for several years now. A place to perhaps document and share some of the bits of information that I have found to be interesting and possibly enlightening. A way to let some of the stuff that bounces around in my head all day out.

BTW, In case you haven’t notice, I love commas way more than periods so please bear with me and hold harmless my high school English teachers. They tried their best.