St. Francis of Assisi and I go soul to soul.........

 

St. Francis - my guy

I've had this secret crush. I met him a few years ago.   The introduction was so mystical and unforgettable, in all honesty, it didn’t occur to me until later that our connection was one of those rare, ethereal soulmate hook-ups.  Call it a past life, or alternate universe experience, I can honestly say I have never fallen so madly in love with someone I never met. Our introduction touched parts of my soul with an unspoken magic that moved me to tears.  Maybe that’s what true love is all about.  Something far beyond physical chemistry; a deeper, inner knowing that this experience/individual  is happening for you, and to you....  breaking down the barriers and defects of the ego and teaching you things you’ve waited your whole life to learn.  They say God shows up in ways in which we will recognize Him.  I needed this mystery man to arrive, leading me to a greater understanding of the bottomless well of spirituality I was so frantically seeking then.  Ready to throw off the limitations of fear based doctrine, and the five senses, believing in my heart of hearts, there is so much more to this boundless Universe; both playground and school to all of creation. I was also slow-cooking, in a thick, tasteless, stew of regret and self-flagellation; needing to forgive (myself first and then a laundry list of others)  so I could dance in the playground again.   God knew I was ready and He sent me to Italy.   

The Pieta

A two month trip through Italy and southern France took me to some of the most noted religious spots in Europe as well as the privilege of feasting my eyes on Art created for God’s pleasure... or the current ruler of the day.  By the end of our Italian sojourn, we joked that we were ready to venture away from some of the religious Art and the myriad of “ugly baby Jesus” pictures.  Some artists must have been trying to score brownie points as they painted a grown man’s face; a dictator, Pope, or even their own, on a soft, pink, dimpled baby body. Frightening.  The churches in Rome, the Vatican Museum and the Sistine Chapel were greeted with wide-eyed wonder as visions swirled of ancient times.  I have a relatively active imagination, and was capable of re-creating  the history in my head, as I stood before many of the saints, great thinkers, and artists tombs;  St. Peter, Michelangelo, Dante, Galileo, Raphael and so many more.   St. Peter’s Basilica alone is a hot bed of spiritual energy, a papal resting place, and vibrant history dances through all its sculpture and artwork.  The Pieta could bring even an atheist to tears, in its depiction of the unimaginable sorrow of a mother, cradling and grieving the lifeless body of her Son.

All of it, relayed a story to my curious mind, engaged and awed me.    Yet, when I returned home and was asked what my favorite place was during this once in a lifetime trip, I had to respond, visiting the crypt of St. Francis of Assisi.  My experience there was so much more than imagination and personal storytelling originating in my head. It was visceral, perceived in my heart and every fiber of my being. It was here, I now know, everything for me, began to change.  Spiritually, nothing would ever be the same again.  It was here, I began to learn to stop minimizing my intuition.  I discovered it was as important as the other five senses. 

Visiting Assisi, I had no expectations, and don’t even know if I was consciously aware St. Francis’ remains were cloistered away beneath the massive Basilica of San Francesco.  I wasn’t particularly intrigued by St. Francis, or even necessarily a devotee of any of the saints.  I knew next to nothing about his life. I knew he graced many gardens, his concrete form enticing the birds to land on this lover of animals and the poor.   I had no idea he came from a wealthy family and had a colorful past as a self-indulgent womanizer, drinker, and party dude. A sinner for sure, apparently redeemed in several conversion experiences.  Nonetheless, I was excited to visit this massive church.  

St. Francis crypt

The cathedral was beautiful and reverently still, even though it was teaming with tourists.  Nestled deep in the bowels of the church lies his crypt.  As I walked down into the cavernous hallways of the church, I began to feel enveloped in peace.  With every step I took it deepened, like a fog thickening around me, seeping into every pore in my body. The sensation, I can now relate, felt very similar to a meditation session, consciously breathing relaxation into each part of the body.  Only this shroud of peace wasn’t a conscious act, nor did I have to work at it.   Rounding the corner into a small chapel, I stopped, awestruck by the earthiness of the surroundings.  What was it about this simple sanctuary, housing the remains of St. Francis, that drew me magnetically inside to a seat on the humble, carved, wooden pews.  The room was cool and the lighting was dim. My eyes were riveted to the circular, stone altar straight ahead, candles burning brightly, inviting my heart to open up and let the light enter.  Five minutes seated in the pew, silently praying a prayer I had never prayed before, I asked for St. Francis kindness and understanding to envelope me.  I asked for my heart to open to the possibility of forgiveness and putting it to rest. I asked him to be an emissary to God and requested unconditional love. I asked for direction for my life.  A warmth radiated from the center of my chest and my body couldn’t sit any longer. I moved towards the circular altar, feeling a pulse of energy emanating from the stone and put my hand out, open palm, ready to receive.  As I slowly moved around the structure, my body bathed in energy, I could see St. Francis, his uncannily familiar face, eyes gentle, but a mischievous grin dancing on his lips.  He raised his hands to bless me and then reached out with one, and touched the open palm of mine reaching towards the burial shrine, as if the contact would feel familiar, and I would then remember.  Droplets of tears slid down my cheeks in recollection and gratitude.   I was forgiven.  I am not perfect.  I made a mistake.  I’d made many of mistakes.  But, I am not a mistake.  My soul not only heard this, but gratefully received that grace.  I heard that I need to listen with that same soul and my heart from now on. I heard that redemption is always possible... Witness St. Francis' life. 

The connection to him and this experience has remained with me. Did St. Francis and I party together in a past life when he was just Francesco? He was a bad boy in his younger days.  I was a wild child. We had a lot in common, something I wasn’t aware of until I returned home and read his biography.  Or, is it just we are all eternally connected, and sometimes, we don’t even need to ask for a miracle.  Maybe it’s as simple and easy as  being in the right place, at the right time. I know if I want to fully experience the majesty and limitless power of God, I have to at least be open, get rid of the closed mind, and clear a pathway to my heart.  This time I unconsciously chose to observe through the eyes of intuition and was blessed to receive a mystical moment that has changed my idea of spirituality forever. 

God does answer our prayers... sometimes through a centuries old sinner, turned Saint.  

Afterthoughts:  Five years later, I still dream of my affair to remember with St. Francis. I'm convinced we've been soulmates lifetimes ago.   I have to confess... He now does have competition. I find I am strangely drawn to the new Pope Francis.  When I see him in the media, I feel the same connection and familiarity I felt on that summer day in Assisi.  What is it about my attraction to these Francis’?  Who wouldn't be attracted to all of that genuine humility and  palpable empathy?  There are worse things than to be in love with a Saint and a Pope. 

Introducing Me... Confessions

• I have a very busy head that rarely takes a vacation.
• I’ve been hurt and I often trust people I shouldn’t.
• I’ve experienced many tragedies but had an equal measure of joys.
• I frequently believe too much. In hope, in healing, in second chances. 
• I’m self-reliant with a little bit of a secret desire for someone to take care of me. 
• I’ve learned to love bigger than I think I’m capable.
• I have a forgiving heart, but it can take me a while to get there.  
• I’m a singer. The kind that would make your dog howl. I hold most of my concerts in the car, with the windows rolled up.
• I’m also a dancer with the limited poise of the tiny ballerina locked up in your jewelry box. I don’t care.  I do it anyway. I was made to move. 
• I’ve been known to be wrong, but sometimes, I'll have a hard time telling you that.
• I am a recovering perfectionist, far from perfect.
• I laugh a lot and smile even more.
• I am truly oblivious to compliments believing they must be directed at whoever is standing behind me. 
• I cry.... a lot. For you and with you.  I cry when I’m sad and happy; when I’m moved or inspired;  and when I’m incapable of words because my spirit is crushed beyond recognition.  
• I’m a giver who is learning to receive.
• I’m also a people pleaser learning to please me first, so what I have to give you, is for the right reasons.
• I often care more about others than I do about myself, but I am learning to give both of us equal love fest time. 
• I hate to be called honey, hon, baby, dear, sweetheart.. unless it comes from the select few who are MY honeys, babies, dears, or sweethearts. 
• I have a sarcastic, snarky, sense of humor sometimes, but make real efforts to not direct it in a hurtful, or shameful way. 
• I’m a diva, a shoe whore, and frustrated fashionista.  I love baubles, make-up, perfume, and the blonde hair God forgot to give me. 
• I'm a lover of beautiful things; art, words, nature, babies, old people.
• I’m fearless with my fun. 
• Most of the time I am an extroverted, social butterfly, but I enjoy an occasional solitary respite, hiding out in my own cocoon.
• Some days I don’t like my body, but I always appreciate what it's doing for me.
• I am a nurturing caretaker when others are ill, but often can’t seem to drag myself to see a medical doctor or dentist.  
• Yet, I'm the Queen of self-help; therapy, meditation, drumming, tapping, the latest crazes and other healthy methods for ending suffering. I'm vehemently opposed to silent suffering and believe martyrdom is for the great Biblical heros and historical gurus, who are much stronger than me. 
• I’m motivated by challenge, but will probably whine about it to you. 
• I often say I want security, safety, and just to settle in comfortably, but, I get bored easily and yearn for adventure.
• When I love you, I love you forever.  I will protect you, defend you, be loyal to you, and do my best to love you unconditionally, sometimes when you don’t deserve it. 
• I tend to be brutally honest with myself while sugarcoating the truth to others.
• I’ve been a sinner and a saint, but I sleep better when I am a saint. 
• If you could peek inside my heart, you would see it's made of gold; blackened with tarnish at times,  but still precious.
• Sometimes I get so scared I think my heart will stop beating. That usually happens when I forget where I came from, my lineage, and who my Father is.

Yes, I am authentic, Fearfully, and Wonderfully made...

I think I am still gonna just continue to be ME and see where Life takes me......

Meditation, Prayer, Intuition and flying by the seat of my pants.....

Today, I was perched on top of a pair of big, flowered bed pillows, legs crossed Indian style, hands resting on my knees.  My palms were facing upward, ready to receive and I giggled out loud. I just couldn’t take it anymore.  Here I was, not a total newbie to this meditation practice, and it was still happening.  My nose itched and I felt like I had to sneeze.  The sound of my phone dinging from the other room, pierced my brain, and the battle began.  Like a two year old with the attention span of a rabid squirrel, the left brain began to duke it out with the right brain.  Right brain wandered off into creative ideas for the perfect Sunday Brunch for Easter, table decorations, and cute little treasures for the kids’ Easter baskets. Colorful, Creative, and Fun!  Left  brain smacked me into order like an old Nun schoolteacher.  “Knock it off.  SatChitAnanda... SatChitAnanda.  Breathe, Breathe, Breathe.... In, out, in out.”  My right brain sing-songed, “Lalalala....I can’t hear you...... There it went.... skipping on down the path with the Easter Bunny.  Ghandi once said, “To train your mind to eliminate the chatter is like trying to empty the sea with a teacup.” I feel better hearing those profound words from a  master teacher.  Today, I not only accepted this chatter as “normal” I surrendered to it.  That’s progress.  

A friend asked me the other day why I seemed so calm and centered with so much uncertainty in my life right now.  I must admit, his question took me back some.  Was I calm?  I haven’t felt like I had any right to claim any Zen qualities, especially in the last decade!  Like a roller coaster, the range of my emotional well-being, was as unpredictable as pinpointing when a tsunami would strike.  In the last few years, I have tried to keep the intensity of the times I became distressed, closeted away, sharing only with a select few closest to me. God bless them for their unconditional love, no matter what.  Yet again, that same sentiment about my noticeable serenity was echoed last night at a women’s gathering.  Am I? Good grief,  I had a meltdown,  post meditation, just in this past week!    My mind obsessing with future doom and gloom as the furnace rattled again in the middle of the night, I was rejected for two jobs that secretly didn’t really want or that suited me anyway, and my checking account reflected an overdraft.  That old practical left brain started telling tales about how my future looked rather dreary, and after all, I was so unworthy, anyway, and I hated my town, my house, my current situation...poor, poor, me.   

I’ve been actively practicing meditation for about three years now. I even downloaded a little Phone App with the option of dipping my toe into mindfulness meditation for as little as five minutes a day, or making the bigger commitment to dive in for a full twenty minutes. I am the proud owner of several lengthier guided meditation CD’s as well, because, believe it or not, I’ve had days where an hour long meditation was where my heart wanted to spend its time. In the beginning, five

minutes a day, the first year, was about all I could tolerate.  Everything started to itch, and I squirmed in my seat, consciously fighting off thoughts that crowded into that quiet space I was trying to reach.  I kept it up, no matter what; even those days when my brain was off and running and the effects weren’t what I anticipated and wanted.... calmness, insight, and peaceful acceptance of what is.  Every day, day after day...it became a habit, like brushing my teeth or taking a daily shower to clean my body. I started to think of it as the routine I used to clean my mind of the clutter so there would be room for some silence.  I hoped that when my brain grew still, and I felt a faint quickening in my heart, I would find some true peace and my answers. 

This week, the Holiest of weeks for Christians, has been a reflective week for me.  What, I wondered, has meditation really done for me?  After all, I do still have days when the world weighs heavier than the heaven I’m trying so hard to touch within.  And, then, voila,  the answer in the form of an International 21 day Meditation practice sponsored by Oprah and Deepak Chopra I'd been participating in.  The words jumped out at me as I began to prepare myself for the meditation, reading the text and the centering thought of the day: 

"My little changes amount to big benefits." 

 Today, I think meditation is like adding to a retirement account. You start out doing what you can, and your deposit may only be a little at first.  Sometimes, the money seems to just sit there, not really growing much, but you keep on investing, and your cents, turn to dollars and you want to throw more in. And one day you notice, you've built up a little nest egg there. Readily available if you should need it. Consistent meditation practice works the same way.  The security of knowing you have that resource to turn to, helps you to know that you can cash in on some of that reserve, through prayer and then pay attention to the answers through intuition.  Meditation IS a practice and just like anything else we want to be better at, we have make time to hone the skill.  The rewards have been sweet. I pay attention to what my intuition is saying to me, and view synchronicity as a precious and anonymous gift from God, rather than a fluke.  I go on about the business of doing what I need, and want to do, and let go of my attachment to the outcome.  So freeing.  I am able to much better look beyond the costumes others are wearing (skinny, fat, rich, poor, ugly, beautiful) all just temporary garb in this earthly life and see the essence - the soul of others. This makes my connections so much more authentic.  People know I see them, hear them, and value them, non-judgementally.  I am clearly beginning to recognize that everything I desire is within me (Ram, Ram, Ram).   Everything. I am perfectly created. 

The greatest gift of all, is the recognition that while my essence is an eternal soul, I am still hanging out in an earthly body, and I can only do my best - five minutes, or an hour at a time.  Perhaps the real joy in prayer and meditation is the gradual unveiling and deepening of my relationship between myself and my Creator.  

Egotistically--- people are noticing a calmer, more balanced me!  I let that right brain frolic and play and the left brain rationalize and try to control and make practical sense of it all; knowing they'll both get tired and succumb to spending some quality time, in stillness, just listening, to the reassuring beating of my heart.  

Happy Easter.  May the message of this Holy time bring hope, renewal, enlightenment and love to your heart! 

“The seeker embarks on a journey to find what he wants and discovers, along the way, what he needs.” ― Wally Lamb, The Hour I First Believed

I was trying to remember when my unquenchable thirst for the meaning of life began.  I don’t think I much cared about why I was here, or what I was to be doing here as a very young child.  Life was lived moment by moment;  the way all small children approach the world,  with wonder, and entitlement.  Little ones are intuitive about their purpose here.  They know it’s their birthright to simply live in joy, because they are still connected to that place of unconditional love, from where they came.  They don’t need much to live in a state of wonder either; they seem to find it right where they are- with everything or nothing.  Their only purpose is pleasure and amazement at the gift of life and all its magic.    That is until society and religious doctrine infiltrate their heads and manipulate their thinking to fit whatever tribe they’ve been born into - - -   Protestant, Catholic, Jewish, Hindu, Muslim, Atheist.  The list goes on.  Then you add race, traditions, social status, family history, demographics, and economics into the mix.  

I truly don’t remember much about my earliest years. I was born to a teenage mom, virtually fatherless until the age of four. One would think this would color a child’s relationship with the world.  I don’t think it did, back then, until the chatter of the world got ahold of me.   I recall writing an older cousin, an assignment I had been given when I was doing some childhood healing work many years ago, and asking her “What was I like as a child?”  Her response sparked some memories of this joyful little girl;  "Happy and sweet, a tiny lover of life, she said......  most of all, curious, very curious".   I had to write my own obituary one time too as another healing assignment.  Another perfect example of my incessant thirst to know more about who I was and what I was born to be.  A  dedicated emotional intelligence scholar and self-proclaimed self-help Queen, this assignment was designed to help me envision what goodness and gifts I wanted to leave behind to the world.   It wound up being a lengthy, free flowing commentary; part fact laced with humor, and part fantasy laying out an intention.   One of the early sentences in my highly dramatized, creative prose said,  Rebecca entered this world, an old soul, both eyes wide open, inquisitively searching for the meaning of life from her first breath.  I’ve come to realize, that statement is not an embellishment; it’s a fact. A lovely way to enter the world for sure. But, there are some that view curiosity with a sort of disdain believing those of us with a thirst for more to be  malcontents.   They don't understand that sometimes it's in the wandering we find the most beauty and joy in life. 

  

Honestly, from the age of about 10, up until a few years ago, I did feel a little guilty about it.  This incessant need to know more, and more, and more about our Creator, The Source, The Universe, and things beyond my human body and five senses, overrode my blind acceptance of how I had been coached.  I felt disloyal to my “tribe” and its teachings.  My parents so carefully cultivated this framework of organized religion with the best of intentions.  They wanted me to have a path to learn right from wrong,  apply order and discipline, and expose me to the spiritual gifts exemplified by Jesus,  so I would learn the importance of infusing them into  my own  human life.  Examples of kindness, service and community were reflected in the religious circle I grew up in.    It was also important to them I have something solid to turn to when life got out of control.  I am thankful for that.  

Yet, it has been the times when life was the most out of control that the organized doctrine of my tribe failed me. With messages of the Old Testament variety of guilt, shame, and punishment, it was often hard to find any comfort there.  Judgement was the thing I feared the most, and I simply couldn’t reconcile to a God who had the same human, mean-spirited traits as me.   Those beliefs didn’t make sense at times, not only on an intellectual level, but in my heart.  Other times, I WAS able to focus in on a Jesus of compassion, and healing, and hope. When I couldn't.... I wandered.  I’ve discovered some of my most spiritual ah-ha moments behind the doors of a twelve step program, and I  began to discover a beauty in the meditation practice and seeking the silence exemplified in Buddha, the belief in miracles in Kabbalah, the power of transformation in the life of St. Francis of Assisi, and modern day miracles in the wise teachers of today.  All of it woven with the love of the God  I have, unshakably  come to understand.  

The times I have felt the most nurtured are when I have listened to the voice within and wandered  down a path,  into the dense forest deeper into the unknown, leaving the religious guilt and shame behind.  There is where I find I can get still enough and quiet the noise of old tapes:  giving myself permission to let my soul connect with an unlimited  source of different doctrine and practices. My God is bigger than a one dimensional force spelled out, instruction manual format.  My God is bigger than a three, four, or five dimensional force.  I have to be willing to be flexible and teachable in order to be a companion to Life.  The Chinese Philosopher, Lao Tzu says it so well, “A man is born gentle and weak; at his death he is hard and stiff.  All things, including the grass and trees, are soft and pliable in life; dry and brittle in death. Stiffness is thus a companion of death; flexibility a companion of life. An army that cannot yield will be defeated. A tree that cannot bend will crack in the wind. The hard and stiff will be broken; the soft and supple will prevail.”

Certainly a Christian by birth, but when I wander into the realms of Spirit, however they are named, I know I am not lost.  I am living the way my God wants me to; learning, growing, teaching.   The path is clearly marked.  If it is about Love, then I am traveling down the right road.  

.... their ain’t no journey what don’t change you some - David Mitchell, Cloud Atlas

Soulmates Revisited

i carry your heart with me

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it (anywhere
i go, you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart) 

Edward Estlin Cummings

This is the kind of love everyone seems to be seeking.  And, who wouldn’t feel adored compared to the eternal moon, sun, and stars? Wow.  Can anyone ever love us like this?  I think so, but it’s taken me decades and a few additional years to discover a Love like that.  

 A recent view of the google analytics on my blog reflects more than half the random hits were because people typed the word “soulmates” into a search engine.  If nothing else, it’s a great internet marketing lesson learned;  why optimizing key words are such a powerful tool for promotion on the internet!  My reasons for writing about it back then were much more self-serving than wanting exposure or helping the heartbroken desperately wading through the opinions of random billions of internet feedback and advice. 

I wrote it initially because a relationship, one I was convinced was an ethereal soulmate connection, had ended disastrously.  Writing has always been one method I use to figure things out; using my creative right brain to journey inward where the Wise One resides and guides me to some understanding.  I wanted answers, why this rare occurrence of an  intuitive attraction, almost spiritual, wound up being a complete failure, leaving me with some permanent scars and questioning everything.  For a time, I found myself trusting nothing, a very lonely place to be.  I couldn’t rely on my instincts, heavenly guidance, friends, or loved ones.    Taking that time to write and resurrect the dynamics of some of the relationships from my past, as well as some serious prayer and meditation, unveiled a new belief that resonated so purely to me. Here is what I discovered, and my post from back then: http://examiningmyunexaminedlife.blogspot.com/2010/06/true-soul-mate-is-probably-most.html.  

My realization that every significant relationship, both positive and negative are soulmate connections was a "slain in the spirit" Ahha moment for me!   A soulmate connection is one that helps nudge (or in some of my cases- drop-kick) us down the path of knowing who we really are, helping us to grow into our authenticity.  We learn about ourselves through these important human beings, importing bits of the teachings from our numerous soulmates as we move through the course of our lives. Our soulmates reveal the good, the bad, the ugly, the joy and the holy in us.   They come to love us, upset us, teach us, push our buttons, pleasure us, challenge us, adore us, and mentor us.  No one soulmate is any more important in our soul’s growth, than another.  Some just feel better than others, more fun,  awe inspiring, joyful, gentler, more sensuous, loving, or enlightening.   The ones who shake our world to its core, are likely the ones we need the most, at that particular time in our evolution.  There is no one human soulmate. We have more soulmates in our lifetime than we ever imagined.  

In the last year or so, I’ve come to believe having the grand lover, that one special person we are counting on to complete us and fill our lives,  is not really what drives our search for the ONE.   We are much more complicated (although we should learn to be simpler) than that. If we thought more simply, we wouldn't be continuously looking, thinking, another human being can ever give us all that we are seeking.   People change, move away, and  die.  They can help us along our path, but they cannot give us the permanent kind of connection and pure love we so desperately want.    

I think our restlessness is actually the vague remembrance of all the love of the spiritual home, from which we came. This motive of our desperate quest for a soulmate is the desire to clear the amnesia from our birth.  Remembering.  Our True love.  Our Heartmate.  Our Creator.  All of these encounters with others, throughout the course of our lifetime, are by design, and drive us to the doorway of our own Heart, where if we are silent, we begin to recognize, we already have everything we have searched for and wanted all along.  In that quiet space we do begin to  hear all which our spirit cries out for.   My beloved.  You are perfect. I love you exactly as you are.  I will never leave you. “My love for you is whatever a moon has always meant, and whatever a sun will always sing, is you.  I love you higher than the soul can hope and mind can hide.”   

I 've found it.  My Heartmate. It was here all along.  Nurtured by an all powerful, unconditional love, I am secure.  Tucked safely in my Beloved's arms, I need look no more.  The discovery..... the greatest love of all.  Soulmates will continue to arrive and depart in my life, teaching me how to surrender, give, and love, as my Heartmate loves me. My search is done.

"I carry your heart with me.  I carry it in my heart."

And I realized just yesterday how people can break your heart just by staying who they are.- Hannah Brencher

“I think you need to examine if you are in love with him, or the with the idea of him.”  A quote from my therapist, and I honestly admit, it was a head scratcher for me.  What in the world was he talking about? Of course I was in love with HIM!   How could you be in love with an idea?  Knowing me and my propensity for taking the simplest thoughts, and turning them into complex mental gyrations, he added, “If you don’t understand what I mean, call me later.”  Need I tell you, I had to call him?  He said, “What do you love about him?”  As I began to recite these things that he had shared, our conversations about what made him tick, things he liked to do, things he claimed to love and believe in, the good doctor posed this question,  “How long are you going to wait to  witness these things firsthand?  Have you seen him with his family to know he loves them dearly?”  Has he taken you on a trip, and have you experienced his love of exploration?”  “Have you socialized with others and does he interact with them like you’ve heard him say?  Does he do those fun things with you he talks so much about?”   A light went on.  It was a 9 volt night light bulb, but it was a start.   Years later, looking back over the relationship (and so many others), the common interests, beliefs, and values I thought were mutual, I really had no idea if it was a fact, because I kept hanging on, waiting for them to live up to my idea of who I thought they MIGHT/COULD be.  Always waiting.... for the right moments, when the Moon was full, and Jupiter would align itself with Saturn, and unicorns would then magically appear out of the forest and dance in my back yard.  All the potential I saw, my perfect future, did not come to pass. They were perfectly happy.... being who they were.  I was crushed to discover that my imagination led me into thinking they actually were interested in performing up to MY idea of potential.   I am learning how to not break my own heart anymore because of delusions of could be’s, if only’s, and when. 

I wish I had a dollar for every friendship, love relationship, job, and residence I stayed in hoping it/they would change and evolve into what I viewed as its full realm of possibility.   Frankly, I believe I’ve lived just about my whole life in that manner. A dreamer, and the classic eternal optimist, I try to find the silver lining in people and situations in life.  While a job just might be “right up my alley” and in an area I excel (as so many friends have reinforced from time to time in my professional journey) that does not necessarily mean the powers that be, are of the same mindset, have the funding, or want anything to change in their organization to avail themselves of MY full potential.  Too often, I have hung in there far longer than is conducive to my pocketbook and serenity, watching brain cells die by the dozens, and hoping for the break when employers see how much untapped potential is just waiting to evolve.

I’ve made the decision not to do this anymore.  There is something to be said for hanging tough in some situations, or recognizing, sometimes, things (growth/advancement/progress) take time.  But, when there is more than one person (me) involved in the process of change, there are situations, whereby to hang in there is simply a recipe for lost years, and broken hearts. When the reality doesn't align with the vision, over and over again, it's time.

I had the opportunity to pay it forward and say the same thing to someone very dear to me recently. “Do you love her, or do you love the idea of her?”    He too was grappling with the disconnect between his delusion of qualities in his mate and the actual behavior. He too was heartbroken, that he could see all this potential for a perfect future with her.  If only.... she would be different.  It was crushing to see him struggle so. Yet, gratifying in a selfish way, to be able to finally see so clearly in another human being, something I have struggled with most of my life.  I was not alone, and I think I have finally after so many years, learned the lesson.  I saw with 20/20 clarity how dysfunctional it was.  I saw how dishonorable it was too.    I don’t know if it’s completely true, love is blind, but it is certainly delusionaly hopeful to a fault at times. I wonder how much of our lives we spend trapped in the waiting room, rather than getting on with it...  seeing potential, rather than reality.  

Why do we do it?  What is the motivator? Control.  Fear.  Laziness.  Ego.  God complex.  Maybe on some level its safe to hide behind others inability to give us what we deserve or need.  We don’t have to do anything then; except blame. Who are we to say what someone’s potential is? Why do we think we have the power to guide others onto our path of perceived authenticity.  Even if we think our vision of their potential, is honest, and honorable, why do we think their progress or growth must be in our timetable?  We simply make ourselves miserable when we look at the potential of something outside of ourselves.  

There is nothing wrong with seeing the reality of the disconnect between what we have, and what WE need, and making the changes WE need to move forward into our joy filled, purposeful, loving life.  We don’t need to get our heart broken because people, jobs, or situations don’t suit our needs.  We can make changes.... sooner.   Life is precious and we have enough to deal with navigating our own journey.  We don't need to  stay trapped inside a broken heart because life is not performing up to our expectations. We don't need to wait for other people or circumstances to change.  It is more honorable to say,"This is not aligned with my vision for my life", than to burrow into resentment and heartbreak.  

So, I shared my story with my beloved conflicted friend;  the many heartbreaks of staying stuck waiting for the arrival of all the potential I saw. In jobs, with friends, with men.  That’s the kind of heartbreak that plucks at the juiciness and wonder of life and takes God and his plan out of the equation.  

Sometimes facing reality is the biggest catalyst to moving us towards our dreams come true.  

Fourteen Years Later............

I  bought this wonderful new book called Ten Years Later.  It was written by Hoda Kotb, an NBC morning show host and I knew it would be inspirational when I saw her interviewed.  In her battle with breast cancer a few years ago she has her own stories of tenacity, survival and coming out the other side, renewed.   This time of year, I seem to need an extra dose of nurturing and encouragement and sensed this might be the boost I needed.    Maybe I do suffer from some moderate seasonal affective disorder too; my good friends have been telling me that for years.  I don’t care for the cold, drearier days and winter weather.  I’m a fair weather girl and love warm air and sunshine tickling and  toasting my skin, bare feet all snuggled into silky, sand beaches.  To live like that at least part of the year, is a bucket list item yet to be checked off.   Yet, intuitively, I know what it is: this wave of exhaustion and sadness that happens this time, every year.    Quite simply, when you lose people you love on the deepest soul level, those losses remain seared on your heart never to be forgotten completely. After all this time, I might get up on “that morning” and forget it’s “that day” for a few hours, but my spirit always weeps silent tears.  The enormity of this loss invades my subconscious. Quite simply, I miss him.  Fourteen years later. 

Yet, Hoda’s book triggered some positive reflection for me too.  So much has happened in fourteen years; much of it full of really joyful events, a few bucket list items checked off, the experience of love again, and some authentic serenity unlike I have ever known.  A little healthy  pride has arrived too as I humbly reflect and recognize I’ve become more courageous, capable, and rather independent.  That makes me smile.  I think it would him too.   I reflected back on all of this in awe.  Mostly because I remember, a week before his death, a social worker hugged me and said, "I promise you it will not always hurt this badly. Your life will be different, yes.  But it will be good again."  Reciprocating her hug, and forcing a smile on my tear-streaked face, the voice in my head said, "You clueless bitch... you have no idea."  Even though the words were never spoken, I owe her a telepathic apology.  I think the best way to do that is to be available to others who need to hear those words, even when they don't think they do.  Just like me..... And share my own experience, strength and hope.  

The necessity (and what I now recognize as the gift) of a healing process; something I reluctantly entered into kicking and screaming because it hurt just too damn much, evolved in its own perfect time.   The ethereal spark that lives somewhere within all of us, began to thirst for joy again and forced me to look inward for not only survival, but growth, and nourishment.  Amazing.   Fourteen years ago, this life, my life,  I was convinced at best, I would limp through half-heartedly.  The other half of my heart seemed too irreparably shattered.  Yet, this new life, while different, is brimming with blessings.  I wouldn’t have believed I would feel blessed again, especially  if you had told me at year five of my grief process.  Or, again around year ten, but, my life, as are  ALL lives, is a journey. I have come to accept and even welcome that thought, especially since his death. Change. Grow. Regress. Grieve. Celebrate. Love. Heartbreak. Love some more.  Over and over again.  My life, even without him, has truly been an evolution, ultimately leading  me to a sense of purpose, authenticity, and so much gratitude.  Leading me HOME to my true HOME.  I know where I come from, where I  belong, and where I will someday, wind up.  

 Fourteen years later, lots of change, and many obstacles as well.  Most of them, I castigated  the poor deceased man that drenched me in more love than I’d ever felt in my life.  How dare he leave me with all these responsibilities, a quarter of our income, and no real help on the horizon?  Every broken appliance, vehicle, and arrow to my heart, I blamed on his departure. He died and left me: abandoned  as so many others had before him- since my early childhood.   It was all his fault when bills piled up, medical issues brought me to my knees,  the flimsy white wooden shingles  began to age off the side of the house, and every new worry etched a wrinkle in my once smooth face.  And, moving from a size 4 to a size 10? Well of course, he was responsible for that too!  

Fourteen years later I recognize,  all along, he has loved me from afar.  He's always sent the perfect opportunities, people, lovers, heart breakers, and most of all angels to guide me along the right path... for me.  A road that will ultimately lead me, someday, into welcoming arms.  I know he'll greet me and lead me by the hand to my Creator.  We'll stand side by side in front the of big screen replaying all those scenes from my life.  As it's all playing out, dramatic.... Hollywood movie style,  I’m sure he’ll bop me gently on the head, and say, “See, when you believed we were ignoring your request for what you thought you wanted, and what you thought was best for you, we were protecting you.”  Now, can I go play some golf, please?”  

We have such limited vision in those times of the darkness of our soul and are often unable to view our sojourn in big picture fashion.  The best we can do, is simply keep moving.  Keep moving and believing that there IS a larger purpose and it is all meaningfully developing. Our role is to simply ultimately trust in that, as we piece it all together. Sometimes we randomly try to shove disparate pieces where they don't belong, but that's okay.   We do the best we know how with the knowledge and the tools we have available to us at the time.  

My gift under my pillow

I know he’s still  with me.  All I need to do is close my eyes.   I dreamed about him the other night.  He radiated this soft  glow....  like the light I saw reflected in his eyes every time he looked at me in life... gentle, full of pride and pure love. Of all the wonderful gifts he gave me and brought into our relationship, that look is my most treasured and precious. 

This morning I was changing the sheets on my bed. I discovered I don’t need to close my eyes to touch in with him.   In fact if I want to connect with him, I ought  to keep them wide open and pay attention.  Lying tucked underneath the mound of pillows I snuggle into every night was a tiny white paper heart.  It appeared the love fairy left an offering. 

Or wait.... was it left over from some Christmas wrapping over the holidays?  I think not. I’ve changed those sheets since then.  

I think, fourteen years later, he's reminding me of  the pure unconditional love I’ve been privileged to feel.  Most of all I know he wants me to know, I will always be in HIS heart too.    

I AM able to deal with the trials and tribulations, and even the occasional Squirrels in the Attic, just fine, on my own.   A heavenly host has got my back, led by one phenomenal man who I was privileged to have in my life for not nearly long enough.  

January 30, 1999. Carpe Diem My Love.  I celebrate you.... and me, and the  anniversary of your homecoming. Fore!  Play Golf.... If you could check in occasionally, I would be most grateful. See you someday.... until then,  hugs and kisses from below.  

XoXo

My Word of the Year for 2013

Fearless.........

Merriam Webster defines fearless as --- bold, brave, dauntless, intrepid, and courageous.  This is my word for 2013.  The last few years  I've gotten rid of the long list of resolutions and searched inward instead, spending some time in reflection, prayer, and meditation to find the right word for the new year. A special mantra of sorts.   A word to focus on throughout the year.  One that will help me in my journey to continue to unearth the best me, and reveal the contributions I was put on this earth to make. Last year, my word was Freedom. It served me well.  At first, I attached all these expectations to my 2012 word.... Free from my rut, free from “this place”; this house, this city, boredom.... It was all going to happen for me in 2012.  I thought my word failed me.  Here I was, stuck in  some mind-numbing sameness.  I was sure it would turn me into a vegetable.   Then, near the end of the year a series of emotional setbacks, sickness, and a few evil deeds called upon my emotional IQ, and forced me to rethink how well last year’s word really worked for me.  Did it ever!  Freedom arrived over the course of the year in more powerful ways than I ever anticipated.  I am free.  More than I've ever been.  Especially from my past and many negative beliefs that kept me stuck for so long.  I was able to recognize them (first) and then release them as useless tools for living.  I’ve been unshackled from my own perceived limitations and fears... of failing, of being rejected, of being hurt, of being alone, of destitution, and any other Armageddon my mind has used in its attempts to annihilate what it perceived to be an "uppityness" of my own confidence and self-worth through the years.   I finally stared down that lifetime of lies and found them to be  not quite so scary when held up to this Holy Light, I discovered within.  Freedom.  Unearthing all of this has been quite a process too, aided and abetted by a number of angels that I now know have been watching out for me, all along. (Forgive me, my beloveds for thinking otherwise)  Those stories I told myself....blatant untruths.  I am none of those things.  I am not limited. And, I am never, ever, alone.. ever.   Now, I AM free.  Free to live my own choices, create my own destiny.  Free to stay, or free to go.  Free to forgive and experience joy, or free to stay stuck in the past and ruminate myself into misery. Now, it appeared, all I needed was some courage and faith. 

Fearless.  

My word for 2013 arrived through some serious meditation, prayer, mindfulness, and  series of serendipities... messages through others, dreams, and other forms of communication that appeared out of nowhere. That’s the way it always seems to happen for me, sealing the word with plenty of blatant signs. The word fearless appeared everywhere. 

Someone dear to me, made a good argument that the presence of a little fear in our lives can also be prudent.  An intuitive built in protection so we don’t walk right into dangerous situations that can be harmful to our being.  That is not the kind of FEARLESSNESS I am referring to.  If I survived the year, by its end, my epitaph might read, FOOLISH instead.   I am talking about the kind of fearlessness that fuels us in fighting for the things we believe strongly in. Fearless in the ability to walk away from dysfunction even when you love someone.  Fearless in showing others who you really are.   Fearless in making changes you know need to be made, letting go and trusting the future is in the hands of our Creator.   Fearless in admitting you can’t do it anymore, and you certainly can’t do it on your own.  Fearless in pursuing the unknown, simply for pleasure of growing and learning something new.   Fearlessly falling in love again, cutting everyone some slack, focusing less on the fact you could be hurt, knowing love truly is still worth it, over and over again.   Most of all, living spiritually fearless, following a path that leads deeper and deeper into the heart of God, unlimited abundance, and joy.   It’s so much easier to be fearless when you have that much faith.  

     

Just to seal my intention after the first of year, the Universe sent me another indicator I was on the right track.  I got an Amazon book suggestion for a book written by Anita Moorjani a young women who was considered by medical professionals to be on her death bed with end stage cancer.  Her book, Dying to Be Me,  details her personal near death experience after she came out of her coma, completely cured and ready to fearlessly tell her story.  When asked what the most powerful message was she learned “on the other side” she said,(paraphrased) “Live life fearlessly... Most of all enjoy life. Most of us live in fear; a combination of fear and lack of self-love and so our lives are spent without enjoyment.  The best lesson is do what brings you joy and do what feels fun for you.  Be yourself. Allow yourself to be who you are.  Get in touch with your feelings.  Most of us are so caught up in doing...  these swirling thoughts of how do I get there from here and all those steps involved.  Instead, ask yourself, every day of your life, with all that arises, how do I feel about this? Don’t ask,  how do I do this, or what steps do I need to take to get there.  Ask, how do I feel?  Let the natural expression of you come through.  Is the answer positive or negative?  If there are more negatives than positives, then you are not following your true heart, being yourself and living fearlessly." 

It’s just that simple.  Fearless in 2013! 

Who runs the world? GIRLS!

I got to spend an evening with a roomful of beautiful ladies this week, about 225 of them; all ages, shapes, and sizes!  Our local Health System’s foundation, held a fundraiser for woman’s health in support of breast cancer awareness month. With a name like Diva’s and Darlings, I knew it was bound to be fun!  The theme was Mardi-Gras and many of these lovely ladies donned bejeweled masks, dressy attire, and costumes.  It was a perfect girly night on the town, with live auction, silent auction, purse raffle, diamond and chocolate games of chance, and a spectacular spread of Creole style food.  Even the appetizers screamed New Orleans: tiny langostinos, and a huge shrimp bowl continuously filled by men in crisp, white chef coats.   The entertainment was an itsy, bitsy, little firebrand of a lady; a humorist, motivational speaker and breast cancer survivor, too. This little women, who exuded some powerful joy, was there to teach us something.  In a nutshell her message was:  the greatest expression of gratitude for life, is to love oneself.   With a funny, relatable, authentic, and self-deprecating humor she brought many of us to tears of hilarity as well as empathy.  Her narration all lead back to this single hope; that woman everywhere learn to accept and love themselves as they were created!   Her belief is- -  it is in acknowledging and accepting our individual uniqueness, perceived flaws and all, therein, lies a woman’s true source of real power.   

I gave some thought afterwards to that philosophy.   I didn’t do the exercises she suggested, like getting naked and checking it all out in the mirror.  It was too chilly this week!  A good excuse.  But, I did ask myself, “Self, does your behavior now reflect a woman who loves herself?”  It surely didn’t for so many years, and the saddest part was I didn’t even realize it.  

I haven’t always felt powerful as a woman and in reality my love of my womanhood has just come around in the last few decades.  I viewed men as overpowering forces of nature that would always come out on top (no pun intended).  Professionally, and as heads of households... and just because they were male, it seemed inevitable they would always exercise so much control over my life. Maybe they did because I didn’t feel confident enough to grab hold of my own choices and decisions and handed it  all over instead.   I just didn’t realize then, I could do much about it.   They seemed to hold the key to my security, survival.... and happiness.  Some of my female mentors and role models were successful females; doctors, lawyers, and CEO’s of companies, self-confident, attractive, intelligent, and financially secure.  But, they stayed in horrible relationships with men who were serial cheaters, lazy, abused, or controlled them.  Why did they continue to forgive or even stay with them?  They weren’t financially dependant on them.  They had the education, tenacity, and resumes to support themselves. They were good looking woman; attractive to other men.  Why would they choose a lifestyle of power in the Board Room, but powerlessness over their personal relationships and happiness.  Why didn't they believe they deserved to be respected and treated well in their own homes?   Those were the examples I honed in on in my younger years, and it just helped to reinforce what I thought.  Men ruled the world, especially the private, personal ones of most women. 

Things started to change for me in my early 40’s when I began to uncover my worth and discovered it did not revolve around the opinions of others, including men.  I loved me.  Amazingly, I then attracted a man who deemed me worthy as well, and loved me for my many  newly discovered assets, but also my insecurities and flaws.  He accepted my sarcasm,  my humor, my little pillow tummy, my obsession with make-up and stilettos,  my fears, my workaholism and my propensity to dissect and intellectualize EVERYTHING!   A few years after his death, I began to attract the same type of men from my younger years.  What happened?   I slipped into the old mode and  decided I wasn’t worthy of the kind of  love that supported my desires, dreams, and boundaries. I was ruled by fear once again and  I placed more importance on becoming what others (men) wanted or needed than what I needed. Fear!  What if I was wrong, really not good enough, couldn't take care of myself,  and what about this being alone?   A total betrayal of the essence of me,  I cast this lovable woman aside along with her boundaries and power.  

There was a popular commercial for a perfume in the 80’s. The theme song, touted, “ I’m a woman...I can bring home the bacon.  Fry it up in a pan.  And, never, ever let you forget you’re a man.  Why in the world would that be considered an asset and a priority? How about a perfume for remembering,  you are woman;  powerful and gentle, a contradiction; authentic and enough? Not just any woman, but a phenomenal woman!   We give life, nurture, learn, think, achieve, accomplish, create. We are deserving and perfect, without breasts, 50 pounds heavier than we think we should be, without a man, or an impressive resume, or a big bank account.  Until we begin to believe that, we contribute to the shriveling of all women. We hand over bits of our power where it could be used to actually change the world.       

Photo Courtesy of the Phenomenal Woman who
owns Angela Owens Photography

As I looked around the room at all of these gorgeous females, I could feel this movement of energy, bursting at the seams, ready to be expressed just as soon as everyone, in unison, could say, "I love this woman that I am.  I am unique. I am  powerful.  Hear me roar. Watch out world.  I am the change I want to see, and I am going to carve my own path of recognition, acceptance, and wisdom, for my daughters and yours." 

It all boils down to this little thing called, self-love.  A woman can do it all, achieve it all, have it all and still find she doesn’t love herself.... not at all.   Until we can, we remain truly powerless and what a waste of purpose and talent that is.  My goal,  (this week at least) is rediscover those traits that make me authentically me... lovable, unique, unorthodox, flaky, and unconventional... especially unconventional.  I am committed to gathering all those parts of me,  up in my arms, for a great big love-fest.  

Oh, and, sigh... I’ll do as I was told.... get naked and lay the loving affirmations on that image too!    Honestly, that will be a  bit of challenge.  I’ll do it, until I start to believe it.   Maybe a good beginning is take a look at the beautiful eyes that enable me to see so much beauty in women everywhere.