Peace of Mind… (blog)

When I was young, I used to pull pieces of ice plant from their stems, snap off the pointed top, and draw designs on the asphalt with the thick gel that oozed out of the broken pieces. When I saw this lovely patch of ice plant at the beach about a month ago, the memories of my early attempts at art (actually, it was just a way of keeping myself occupied) came rushing in.

As I let my mind and my heart peruse the memory, I realized that many of the activities that I enjoyed as a young person, still bring me a feeling of peace and a reminder of how simple joys fill the soul. Don’t get me wrong; I no longer use ice plant on asphalt as my medium! Regardless of what I use, I still enjoy drawing.

I am lucky. I was exposed to reading, music, theater, art, picnics at the park, church choir, sports and yes, even a circus (that’s another post).

Many of those activities are a part of my life today, and for that, I am grateful.

When I am feeling the depth of what I call COVID fatigue, I seek out simple joys.

Last night for example, I lay quietly with my eyes closed, listening to music. Nothing else. Just being with the beauty of the music and the stillness of my body. It was a simple way to reconnect to the open heartedness I seek to meet each day with.

Also, I was able to shed a few tears. Not because there was anything specifically wrong, but because for a moment, I allowed myself to feel the fatigue, the loneliness of not having hugged anyone in months, and the deep desire for connection.

Today, I did some writing. This is something I have done for as long as I can remember. It brings clarity, connects me to my dreams and helps me figure out things when I’m having trouble with direction. The writing has given me some ideas about things I want to share, and the enthusiasm to continue posting.

I’m grateful for the memories brought about by a simple stroll with a friend past a patch of ice plant. A smile, a connection to art, music and writing. And, a connection to you.

We are at a crossroads, my friends.

Unprecedented times.

When I go into my meditation tonight, I will send healing thoughts to all who are or have been affected by COVID-19, both directly and indirectly – just as I have regularly since the initial report I heard about the illness in Wuhan.

I will take a moment in meditation for myself, my family and friends – just as I have regularly since I began meditating years ago.

I will spend a few moments in meditation for the planet and all of it’s inhabitants.

And, I will spend some time in meditation for peace.

Such a powerful combination – love and peace.

Over the past several months, I’ve noticed how much the energies of anger, hate and divisiveness are being fed. Add to that the fear that is blanketing our conversations and the news, and it almost seems trite to speak of love and peace.

However, I am someone who believes that if I do nothing else, I can be a voice for peace and love. In this way, I am creating energy that supports, rather than breaks down.

Sometimes, it is as simple as eye contact in the parking lot of a grocery store – with a nod that all is ok for now. Another time, It’s waiting several feet back from the crosswalk as an elderly person makes their way across.

More than simple acts of connection however, I need to remember that every time I choose not to engage the fear and anger, I have stopped the flow of that energy toward me. When I go a step further and engage with love and in a peaceful manner, I turn the energy around and begin to snuff out the flames of hate.

Imagine what is possible when love comes first and peace is the guide.

Imagine…

Several years ago, I was going through an experience that made me feel both grounded and free. My soul was full of excitement and my heart was wide open. During that time, I experienced many different ways of falling in love with people, which I am profoundly grateful for.

You see, when my heart is open, I find myself willing to interact more boldly, which allows for more fulfilling experiences of and with others.

Over the past several months, the issues we are facing while being home bound or having our faces covered have made it more difficult for me to remain open hearted. Occasionally , I have found myself resisting the very interactions I would previously have run toward.

Let me be clear, I still love to love people. And, I love to feel grounded and free.

Part of the decision to begin writing again comes from my knowing that the deeper and more richly I connect to my soul, the better I feel and the more open hearted I become.

A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to go to the beach. When I saw this seagull, I was reminded of the words I used to describe the feeling I had those years ago:

Rooted in flight.

For me, these words reflect being both grounded and free.

Rooted in flight.

This looks different for me now, but feels just as important as it did when I first said it. Perhaps even more so. It reminds me to take care of my needs to stay grounded. It also reminds me that reaching out in different ways invites me to be curious and to get out of routine. It also tells me that in these unprecedented times, every day has endless possibilities; which is freeing.

Rooted in flight.

Grounded and Free.

After watching an hour and a half of three grown men (all white, I might add) interrupting one another, speaking over each other, calling each other names, ignoring guidelines agreed to prior to the debacle (oh, yes – debate), my whole being aches.

If this evening’s interaction between the two candidates for president is an indication of where our country is headed, we are in much more trouble that I could previously have imagined.

When common decency is obliterated by rudeness, manners cast aside for over talking and interrupting and the current pressing issues tossed out in favor of mud slinging, I find myself reeling.

It was actually painful to watch.

If I had behaved as these men did when I was on the debate team, I would have been dropped from the team.

We need civil discourse in every area of our democracy, or our democracy will fail. We need to respect one another regardless of whether we agree or disagree, especially politically. We need to be kind to all people, regardless of differences.

Tonight gave us none of that…

My meditation this evening will be for the country and the world – that civility return so that meaningful, productive conversations can begin.

I have a good friend who I speak with quite regularly, and we often discuss what we are feeling. In those discussions, we look at what feels “close to home”, which we call the micro view; and we look at the events where the impact affects people/places and things that are a bit “farther out”, which we call the macro view.

Although each of the experiences calls for my attention, the likelihood is that the micro events are things I can respond to relatively easily. I also tend to have practices in place that help ground me and remind me that “this too, shall pass”.

On the macro level, there is often a collective energy, which heightens the experience. Also, the response needed is usually at a larger level that what I can provide, which means I have to find a way to manage my energy around it, being ready to help if it is needed.

Either way, finding my center helps me to be with all of the turmoil.

What is important for me to remember is that with more stress, anxiety and grief going on right now, I am best served by increasing the time I spend in my daily practice. For me, that means extra meditations (even five minutes helps), seeking out and speaking aloud the things I’m grateful for, reaching out to others, etc. It also means finding time in my week that is just for me. No to dos or distractions. Just me.

There are two things my friend and I have added to our calls that feel especially important. First, we ask each other what we can hold or intend for the other person. This is a great way for each of us to invite collaborative healing energy in. The other thing we have been doing is to seek out simple joys. Perhaps a cup of coffee in the late afternoon, or a video call with loved ones. It can be big or small (I got a new toothbrush), as long as it brings joy.

Tonight, as I go into my meditation, I will close my eyes, and intend healing energy for all creatures on the earth, and the earth itself.

And, a simple joy for me is to be writing again. What’s yours?

As we progress through life, we all experience grief at one time or another. As unique as each of us is, so too, is the way we grieve. Grief has many faces; loss through death, employment, a diagnosis, divorce, natural disaster, etc. Although grief remains with us, over time, our capacity to be with our grief grows.

We experience grief because of our ability to care. To love. When we lose something we care about or someone we love, we grieve.

I, like most people have experienced several losses in my life. I used to think that I had moved through the grief of those losses, but the times we are currently in have had me feel grief I hadn’t connected to in years.

The first time I saw Dr. Fauci speaking about the Corona virus, I felt a lump rise in my throat. I remembered his face from the AIDS epidemic oh so many years ago. During the epidemic, Dr. Fauci was one of the people (activists) involved in changing the way clinical trials were done, leading to huge numbers of lives being saved. He was talking about COVID-19, and I was remembering not only the people who died and the underlying fear of HIV/AIDS, but also connecting to the loss of feeling safe.

There was a time when that memory would have brought tears to my eyes and sadness to my heart that might well last a few hours to a few days. But, my capacity to be with the losses of that time has increased. Now, I am able to slow my breathing a bit and just be with the lump in my throat.

So, what is this all about?

It’s about recognizing not only our personal/individual grief, but also the collective grief we are experiencing with our fellow human beings. For example:

• A global pandemic with more than 200,000 dead in this country alone
• Unemployment, businesses closing at staggering rates
• White supremacist culture and the continuing violation of the rights of others
• The political unrest in this country and the coming election
• Wildfires burning out of control and air quality being compromised

Unfortunately, this is not anywhere near a complete list. However, each of these things causes a layer of grief to rest itself upon our hearts and minds, compounding what we might already have been feeling.

As we try and keep up with the changes that we are facing, we also attempt to keep up with our emotions. However, right now, we often don’t have time to grieve one loss before another is piled on top of it. It can become overwhelming.

When people tell me they’re tired or they feel confused or just feel out of it and don’t know why, I try and remind them (and myself) that there is a reason for the feelings.

What I know for myself is that it is paramount to recognize my grief (no matter how insignificant it might seem), respect the process I am in around the loss, and remember to reconnect to myself as often as necessary as I grieve. I remind myself that there is no timeframe in which to be finished grieving. I hold myself gently, and I hold others in the same way as they navigate their grief.

In the coming days, when you are asked how you are, take a moment. Ask yourself how you really are. And, if you find you are grieving or have something you have yet grieve, please do.

I’m tired. I have the better portion of my blog written, and I just can’t find it in me to finish it tonight. I spent some of my day outside, some of it reading, and some in conversations.

Right now, even days as simple as today feel like I’m slogging through. And so, I am giving into the tired, and going to bed.

Rest well, friends.

When a man pleads for millions of dollars to beat an opponent in politics

I weep

When injustice is the norm and differences are turned into reasons to hate

I sob

When humans already divided become separated further by illness and death

I wail

When I am complete with my grief, my tears no longer spilling into the sea

I rise

When rising is no longer quite enough

I dissent

When my dissent is joined with others and can no longer be denied

We become

When I came upon this incredible sunflower in my friends’ garden, I was amazed by it’s size. And I was equally as intrigued by the sinewy, thick, six plus foot tall stalk that held the weight of the fully seeded flower. Then just as I was about to turn, I noticed the tiny bee poised daintily among the seeds, and decided to watch a while.

I got to thinking about the importance of bees in the pollination of food crops, and it made me smile to think that this tiny little creature (and other pollinators) represents how connected and dependent we are on parts of nature we simply take for granted.

I have spent much of my life having freedom of choice – because I am white. I must admit that for much of my life, I did in fact, take things for granted. However, today I am both aware of and grateful for the choices afforded me.

And, I am grateful for Justice Ginsburg’s unwavering commitment to making those choices available to every human being, without exception. I am grateful to Reverend William J. Barber II for his devotion to the Poor People’s Campaign: A National Call to Moral revival. I am grateful to Mahatma Gandhi for his message of nonviolent resistance. I am grateful to Dr. Martin Luther King for his steadfast belief in civil rights belonging to every one. I am grateful for the Dalai Lama’s consistent message of hope. There are, of course, many more.

Like the bees who load their bodies with pollen to share from plant to plant; these individuals carry the nectar we need to nurture and heal ourselves and each other.

But they could not and cannot do it alone.

It’s time for us to become harbingers of change by standing up, speaking out and taking action.