In the split second that I look at my friend and think, “How could she?”, I am creating a distance.

When I scoff to myself and think, “I wouldn’t…”, I am lying to myself.

When I (easily) get in this mode I remember Maya Angelou’s assertion in her Master Class.  It resonated with me and chastened me when she said that if we are human, we can’t possibly say we wouldn’t do what a human being has done.

Of course, my mind immediately went to the serial killer who took my niece’s life.  It went to the child molester.  What I should be considering is my day-to-day life and my judgement about the people I love.

I know this lesson well.  I know that if someone irritates me, I should look carefully at myself to recognize the behavior in myself.  I’ve written about it before and know that I will again.

And how far is the gap between judgement and love?  How difficult is it to bridge the rushing river of critical thoughts which lets me to think I can do better? Or that my friend should do better?

The truth lies in loving myself first.  In being so sure that I am a cherished child of God and the universe that I needn’t put myself ahead or behind.   That I needn’t feel sure that I am better…or worse.  That I needn’t compare myself and come up ahead.  I needn’t compare myself at all.

Perhaps it will be nervana when I can smile at my friend and wish her well with no thought to change her, correct her, or hope for better things.

Or it will be true love.

Impeccable

Be impeccable with your word.

I’m  quick.  Sometimes I consider this a great virtue and just as often my quickness leads me down the wrong path.

For instance, I’m a darter.  I move without thought.  Because of this I carry bumps, bruises and a collection of scars that continues to grow.  I caution myself as I age…”Slow down.  Watch where you’re going!”

My quickness of movement is not my greatest problem, however.  It is my quickness of tongue.  It is my propensity to blurt out my thoughts.  It is my ability to deliver a clever response in the blink of an eye and the click of my tongue.

When I was younger I prided myself on this.  I had my moments of regret over words that should have been swallowed rather than spewed, but I didn’t comprehend the waves of spiritual damage to myself and others.

I’m still learning to be impeccable with my word:

• To be truthful.
• To be accurate.
• To say only what I mean to say.
• To say it with love and concern.

I’m practicing and learning.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

*The Four Agreements by Michael Ruiz.

Be impeccable with your word.

Don’t take anything personally

Don’t make assumptions

Always do your best.

This was written for and originally appeared on Vision and  Verb on May 14, 2012.

Balancing Act

Happiness is not a matter of intensity but of balance and order and rhythm and harmony. Thomas Merton

In that wonderful way that life has of informing me, it keeps bringing forward the concept of balance.  I often say that I need to get back to my center.  I think of it as grounding myself.

I’ve never been totally clear about the physics or the metaphysics of this, but I understand the feeling of being off-center, unbalanced and ungrounded.  I can’t even claim to understand exactly how to change back when I get to this fly-away space.  I only know that it is uncomfortable for me.

I was watching a taping of Oprah with Tony Robbins (from which I got several ideas).  Sherry Salata was saying that she realized that she wanted her life to be a teetertotter and so she was going to trying to “balance” her life.  Hmm.

Then, in a Deepak Chopra meditation, David Ji described balance as that of paying equal attention to the body, mind and spirit.

Both resonate with me.  They are each “keeper” concepts.

I love the ups and downs and highs and lows of my life.  The distress comes only if the lows were to stay too long.  But then, without the lows, I wouldn’t realize how wonderful it is to be higher than a kite (emotionally) or filled with peace and contentment.

And I will gently remind myself that it is possible to cogitate in motion.  I am capable of deep thought when I am walking or vacuuming.  Meditiation is natural when chopping celery or folding cloths.

There’s a certain balance to all of that.

Laughter

What is laughter?  What is laughter?

It is God waking up! O it is God waking up!  

It is the sun poking its sweet head out

from behind a cloud

You have been carrying too long,  

Veiling your eyes and heart. 

Hafiz

I love the snippets of truth and grace that emerge from the writings of Hafiz, who lived in the 1300′s and was the beloved poet of the Persians.  His words capture the swirling images of our lives and create spiritual descriptions of  those moments.

I wait impatiently for these moments of laughter that clear the skies of my useless concerns.

Certainty

Life was simpler when I was sure.

I was imbued with a staunch confidence from which I spouted my opinions and discounted those of anyone who disagreed with me.  Sadly, I have a quick mind and a sharp tongue, so I took some pride in leveling my opponents.

So life was simpler, perhaps, but not easier.  I very rarely had internal peace.  At times I would carry disquiet and vague discomfort with me for hours or days or weeks after my certainty had galvanized me into regrettable action.

How could I not defend my position?  How could I not try to convince people to follow the RIGHT path?  My path.

In those days I knew my path.  It wasn’t a winding track with the next few steps hidden by overhanging questions.  It wasn’t soft on the sides with leafy branches of thought leading to unknown destinations.  In those days it was straight.  It was sure.

This sureness can still rise up and imprison me.  On those fearful days I lock myself into a position of self-protection.  I can’t move forward.  I no longer wish to move back.  And so I wait and hope that nothing goads me into action.  If that happened  I might revert to my sad former self and engage in righteous and wrong arguments in which everyone would lose.

Those are the days when I must be alone and wait for my uncertainty to return.

A Life Student

 

 

This was originally posted on Vision and Verb, an international gathering of Women.

Signs of Spring

Under heaven all can see beauty as beauty only because there is ugliness.  All can know goodness as good, only because there is evil.  Tao Te Ching

 

I am grateful for spring.  The swelling in my heart when I see a daffodil would not be so great if it didn’t grow from the dry twigs and barren landscape of the winter ground.

Of course!

The 10th and 15th daffodils are lovely in April.  Yet they don’t spark the same light in my soul as the first glimpse of bright yellow  on a cold day in March.  When the dark days come I want to remember how glorious the light will be in contrast…and that the light is coming.

Examining My Strength

What a revelation.

I have always considered myself to be very strong.  Physically, yes, but mentally and spiritually, also.  I can do it!  I can take it!  I’ll handle it.

Ilanya Vanzant shocked me by saying that this is probably not authentic.   Does my strong stance stem more from my desire to be perfect and to hide my fear of my own inadequacies than from solid spiritual ground?  My need to put others first may mean that I see everyone else as more worthy, more valuable.  Yet many of the great religions and philosophies tell me to take care of myself so that I can be of service to others.

It’s okay.  I don’t need to be strong.  But I must remember not to pretend that I am.  I must ask for help when I need it.  As Ilanya says,  ”Do not allow others to dismiss, disregard, deny your pain.  Find someone who will listen – someone who hears you.”

I how other people view me.  Do they think I am strong?  Do I isolate myself with my supposed strength?

Life Student