Buck Stopping, Consciousness Shifting, Center of the Universe

That's me.

And you.

And we need to get busy. The world is waiting.

I posted recently about the tendency for groups and individuals to identify themselves as much by who hates them as by who and what they are. Several thoughtful comments (Alli Silverwing, Sitara, Zephyr - thank you!) netted a host of theories as to the whys of the behavior. In response, Sitara Haye asked, "How do we change this dynamic? What can we do about it?"

So here's my answer to what we can do about this and other behavioral dynamics that undermine the mental and emotional health of our big ol' beautiful world:

Stand up and take your rightful place at the very center of the universe, the pivot on which the world turns. We need a major shift in the world consciousness and it's up to you and me to do it. The buck stops here, pal. No finger pointing. No committee meetings to assign responsibilities. I am and you are the buck stopping, consciousness shifting, center of the universe and it's time to kick some butt.

To affect a world shift, we have to use the best tool we have or ever will have -- the ability to change ourselves. We have to look honestly and deeply at ourselves and our behaviors and change them to model the behavior we want to see in the world.  It's harder than it sounds; I'm as aware as anyone how much easier it is to talk about change, to say we need a major world shift, than it is to do it. I also believe that there is no other way.

If we say we want peace, are we living peacefully?
If we believe community is important, are we living in a way that supports community?
If we believe the we are all connected, do our actions reflect our responsibility to the web?

While we're changing ourselves to be the future we want to see, we also have the responsibility to use whatever talents and abilities we have to influence others to change.  We cannot make them change, but we can't keep looking at ourselves in the mirror if we don't do everything we can to influence positive change. The key is to keep the priority straight, to remember to work from the inside out.  All our efforts to influence positive change in others, no matter how smooth the presentation or how persuasive the words, are undermined if we don't hold ourselves to the same or higher standards.

Yeah, it's hard. Being the center of the universe is not easy, but it's the only way. Start today.

"Everything that is good and beautiful..." from The Soaring Impulse

One of my favorite bloggers and a personal hero, Maithri Goonetilleke, posted yet another beautiful reminder of our connections and our resonsibility to each other. I hope you read this wonderful story that includes the words...

Sometimes people tell me that the little things we do, don't count. That they are lost to the winds, like little leaves in a storm.

With all my heart, I know they're wrong.

Its like my father has always said: "Humanity is a spiders web. Touch the web at any point and the whole web vibrates."

There is so much more on The Soaring Impulse, and Maithri's heart is bigger than my little words can convey. Please, go meet him and feel the loving vibrations he creates on our web.

I am not "loud" and my blog voice is not widely heard, but I will add my voice to the music at The Soaring Impuse. I am grateful to sing loving harmony with my friend Maithri.

If you call yourself a Wiccan...

...then you really need to visit Sitara Haye's beautiful website and join in the discussion there. Most recently, this post about lineage verses self-made Wiccans caught my attention. I've already voiced my opinion there, and I am eager to read the comments of others...including you.

Sitara's entire site is a wonderland and not to be missed. Go check it out and, should you be inclined, join in the conversation. There are some GREAT discussions going on! Her site is beautiful, too, and is the work of a good friend at LadyCelt Design.

That's it for now...just passing along nuggets of wisdom and beauty where I find them.  Blessing of joy and peace to all.

Six Men Won't Fit In a Bucket

Unhappy because power had not been restored to her home after a damaging storm, an irate customer called her local power company to complain.*

Customer: I can see the truck from my window, and there are six men out there, but only one of them is in the bucket fixing anything on the pole! The rest of them are just standing around on the ground! Why aren’t those other men working?

Power employee: Well, ma’am…all six of them won’t fit in the bucket.

Customer: Oh. (click)

As a former power employee myself, the story made me laugh, and then it made me think: How many times do we get all worked up because all the men aren’t in the bucket?

The caller had a single point of view – her power was off and she wanted it back. She had limited knowledge – she knew that power was reconnected by the man at the top of the pole, but she knew nothing about the number of men it took to remove and replace a damaged pole, cut and move fallen limbs, or ensure the safety of the guy in the bucket. She had limited perspective – her pole was the only one she could see. Yet with so little to go on, she was sure there was slacking going on and that said slacking was the reason she was still in the dark.

How often do we do that? How often to we get all fired up about a situation before we really know what’s going on?

So often, situations go like this: Someone does something that seems offensive to me. I have limited knowledge, limited perspective, and only my own little problem in my sights. So what do I do? I invent all those other details, filling in the blanks with just enough information to support my righteous indignation, making up a story that supports the offense theory and fuels my ire. The more I think about it, the madder I get!

Why is that? In the best of all worlds, we would have a wider view, one that made it harder to focus on a potentially offensive act or word. We’d resist feeling offended until we had all the facts and knew the intent and context from the other person’s perspective. That might require a conversation, some questions, some honest listening, but it would be worth it. If that’s too much trouble, we would at least make up a story that felt good rather than one that just makes us madder. If we are supplying the missing details, why choose the ones that cause the most misery? Do we enjoy having our feelings hurt?

Things are not always what they seem, and offense is taken far more often than it is really given. Next time you find your knickers all wadded up about something, take a step back, refocus, and learn the facts. You won’t be giving up your right to a good head of justifiable steam if the situation really warrants it. You also won’t waste your precious energy writing a story to piss yourself off. Before you get mad, remind yourself that six men won’t fit in a bucket.

*An all-too true story borrowed and paraphrased from my friend Indigo Satin.

Garden Goodness

Just sharing some joy from the garden. We've started harvesting vegetables regularly now, but we've been havesting beauty for weeks. Enjoy!

Who Hates You?

I saw this sign on a church on my way to work this morning:

My first thought was that it was a clever reverse approach to the multitude of “message from God” signs so popular locally –

“We need to talk.” – God

“My house on Sunday – hope to see you there.” – God

“How ‘bout introducing me to your friends?” – God

My next thought was more interesting:

Why is it that so many of us, individually and as groups, define ourselves as much by who hates us (or who we think/believe/hope hates us) as by who and what we actually are?

Christians preach about how they’re hated by “the world” for their commitment to Christ. Pagans rail about how they’re hated by Christians for their alleged assignations with the devil. Jehovah’s Witnesses love the notion of being hated by all other Christian sects for their departure on points of theology. Toss in liberals and conservatives, Republicans and Democrats, gays and straights, vegans and omnivores, Redskins fans and Cowboys fans…the list is endless. It’s part of the personal identity for some people.

Why do we do that? What is so compelling about defining ourselves by our perceptions of disapproval, distrust, dislike, distaste, and disrespect? What is it about being “dis’ed” that we love to identify with?

Any thoughts?

Blackberries for Breakfast

I had blackberries for breakfast this morning

grown on a nearby mountain by a couple

no longer young but still in their prime.

I tasted their youth,

felt the grit between my teeth
of a too-tight budget and a too-small house,

smelled their dreams of acreage, farmland, a life made rich and full

by sweat and soil and a solid work ethic.

I mashed up my berries

and watched the juice run in the bowl,

saw blood from blistered hands

and heard the curses muttered under the breath

when another machine went down

and there was no money to fix it.

I lifted my spoon to my mouth and

tasted a first good harvest on land long saved for,

good years and lean years,

pungent, fertile ground and dust,

sun, rain, wind, drought, and storm,

sweet and tart together,

still gritty from time to time

but full and juicy and rich,

a breakfast so full of life

I could taste it.

Don't Worry - You've Got the Good Vibration

We must find peace...

Enjoy.

Five Minutes of Truth

A dear friend invited me to participate in a gathering wherein each participant would have five minutes to share their spiritual truth. No other guidelines were given, and each was to be listened to with respect and appreciation and without discussion. Unfortunately, through a communications snafu I missed the event, and I hope we follow through on plans to do it again.

I spent quite a bit of time preparing, thinking about my personal spiritual truth. The most difficult part was narrowing down something so broad to a five minute sharing. Perhaps not surprisingly, when I finally narrowed my focus to what I consider to the be the biggest "chunks" of truth, all the parts I would like to have included are really already covered by the big chunks.

I'm sharing my truth with you here. I think it's important for each of us to speak our truth, and for each of us to hear. We all know more than we give ourselves credit for. Knowing is our birthright. We've been deluded into believing that spiritual truth is given to us...by a priest, in a book, by rule and regulation...so much so that we've stopped listening to ourselves and to each other, listening to our intuitive, connected, knowing selves.

Thank you for hearing my truth. Now I want to know yours.

Five Minutes of Spiritual Truth

“God the Father” is a concept that was always just beyond my grasp. I tried so hard to pray, to turn my eyes heavenward, and was always left with the feeling that no one was home.

It wasn’t until I leveled my gaze, looking at eye level at everything around and inside me, that I met the Divine. I can’t remember who said it (wish it was me), but these are the words that best sum up my definition of the Divine: “Write on the face of everything, I Am the Living God.”

Meeting the Divine in everyone and everything, I have become aware of the dualistic nature of the universe…male and female, light and dark, rest and activity, active creation and passive receptivity.

Everything I need to know can be learned from the world around me. Nature teaches cycles of birth, life, and death every day. I watch the world reborn each year in spring, tiny life emerging from every piece of earth, every branch, every nest, cave, and burrow. I watch it grow strong and multiply, reproducing in the timeless dance of pollination, germination, and lusty, uninhibited sex. I watch everything around me grow into the mature lushness of June, the abundance of July, the fatigue of August, the slowing of September, and the dying process, beautiful in its own right, of October and November. I see the world, dead again at last, cold and seemingly barren through winter, resting, only to be reborn again in spring. Nature never tries to artificially prolong life. Trees don’t appear the least bit unhappy about autumn. The know when it’s time to rest. Walk through a grove of trees in late august and you can feel the exhaustion, hear the chorus of, “I’m still working but, Lord, ain’t I tired!”

When my father died on a December day a few years ago, he had seen his spring. He had grown into a strong, productive summer, spread seed, set fruit. He had pressed on through fall, growing more tired every day. When his winter came, he looked like a winter tree, bare of all the youthful green abundance, graceful bare branches ready for a well-deserved rest.

I don’t know what form his next spring will take (or has taken), but I know there will be a spring. Maybe it will be another physical manifestation, or maybe his second spring is in me and my brothers who sprang from and carry his seed. I don’t have to have all the details right now. I just know spring comes around every year. Nature’s lessons and the living god are visible in both micro and macro all the time.

I don’t like to speak of the Divine by personal name. I prefer “The All.” When I put a human name on the Divine, I automatically think in human terms. It’s too easy to end up with a gender and specific personality traits – jealous, vengeful, loving, angry, forgiving, exacting – effectively creating god in my image.

I believe there is “a whole that is greater than the sum of the parts,” a collective consciousness and transcendent aspect of the All. I do not owe obedience, fear, or allegiance to this consciousness. It’s not the Four-O god of my youth – omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent, and out-there somewhere. I am part of it. I don’t really know or need to know if I’m a cell or an organ or a whole system. It’s enough to know that I’m an integral part of the body of god. I am not god, but god doesn’t exist without me, just as my heart is not me, but I’m not much without my heart – or my liver, lungs, vagina, brain, colon, eyes, arms, legs.

I am sacred. Every part of me is sacred. Every loving human act is sacred. And my purpose in life as a part of the body of god is to discover and be the best me I can be. Whatever gifts I have, they fill a need in the larger body. If there is a mandate in my spiritual truth it is this: Do good. Increase love. Grow peace. Promote truth. Act with kindness. Do what you were born to do. Be the best you can be and promote the health of the larger body. Period. That’s enough.

I can affect change in the world. I am as intimately connected to the rest of my god body as my heart and mind are connected to the rest of my physical body. My thoughts affect my physical body in ways science is still learning and marveling over. My thoughts and actions also affect the larger body, the collective. Every act and thought creates ripples. Directed thought and action backed by will and intent can have concentrated effect, make stronger ripples. That’s magic, and I am magical. Knowing that power, I am accountable for how I use it. Every action, every thought counts.

Awareness and Gratitude are doorways to ecstatic union with the transcendent, collective aspect of the All. Albert Einstein is quoted as saying, "There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." In my world, it’s everything. Awareness of the miraculous nature of All that Is raises gratitude in me greater than any “be ye thankful” admonition could possibly generate.

Gratitude and thanks are not the same. Thanks is an expression, a response. Gratitude is the daughter of Awareness and together they create a sense of humble wonder, a way of walking through the world with one word on my lips – yes – open to receive, to know, to experience.

Former U. N. Secretary Dag Hammerskjold penned words that have become my celebratory prayer and life affirmation, and pretty well sum up my chosen approach to life. “For all that has been – thanks. For all that will be – yes.”

Something Moved Me

I got a comment from the lovely and talented Sitara Haye nudging me to get off my blogger's arse and write something. She reminded me that I don't have to be profound or even articulate...just write something. "Something has moved you in the last couple of months," she said.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I love you, Sitara, and I still hate it when you're right and I have to get up off the proverbial comfy couch and jumpstart myself into action. Inertia, thy name is Heartsong.

On the other hand, I like moving once I get going (bodies in motion and all that)...prefer it actually, to stillness...so thank you for the nudge.

Huh...I guess you moved me. Entry number one in my list of things that have moved me lately: Good friends who kick your butt in the gentlest and kindest of ways when you need it most. Thank you.

With Number One out of the way, the rest of the list follows.

Things That Moved Me (numbers 2 - 10)

2. My friend Indigo Satin (not her real name, unless you count her seems-like-forever-now internet and email name as real, which I do because it reflects her beautiful, flowing spirit and the deep, cool colors of her soul). As I type this, surgeons have just stitched her body back together after removing both breasts and a lymph node. She's in "recovery" at the hospital; the real recovery starts when her son and sister take her home to heal. She's beautiful, sensual, spiritual, sexy, smart, and soulful...and while I will miss the sweet, sexy, "baby's butt" cleavage she always seemed to have in her oh-so-lovely low-cut tops and corsetry, there is nothing that can dim the light in an around this amazing woman. I love you, Booful. (You can read her thoughts leading up to her surgery here, if you're interested; I hope she keeps writing as she recovers, though it may be a while before she feels like lifting arms to type.)

3. Our garden. Who would have thought, way back when Mom and Dad were sweating and digging and hoeing their little hearts out while I worked equally hard to avoid the sweating and digging and hoeing, that I would be such a garden nerd in my middle years? I love our growing, green babies! I love dirt! I'm even warming up to sweat, hoes, digging, and earthworms tilling the soil and pooping out nutritious goodness, goddess bless 'em. Compost is delightful. Weeding is an act of love. Yeah, I'm smitten...completely head over heels in love with it all.

4. Indigo Buntings. Beautiful, brilliant blue birds, blue all over except for charcoal gray outlines on wing and tail feathers. When one of these little fellows streaks by the window or rests for a while on the feeder or bird bath, my eyes can't drink in enough of the blue. They're like little drops of happy that sweeten whatever cup I'm handed on that day. For a moment, everything is a little more beautiful.

5. Mountains. The earthly ones, tall and strong and solid...and the people ones. People mountains are the ones you know you can go to when you're the one who needs to be heard, held, shored up. They're the ones who never listen superficially, just waiting for the chance to turn the conversation back to their own issues. They're the ones who, no matter how empty you are, they don't try to fill you up. They just accept that's where you are right now, that you'll fill up again in time, and all they have to do is love you while you work your way through it. And because they don't feel compelled to save you, they don't get mad when you don't heal on their time schedule. They wait, like mountains, timeless and unchanging.

6. Mountains. I know, I used this one already, but I'm moved by them in more than one way, and each one deserves its own number. It's my list. I can do that. When you look at the face of a mountain, the rock and dirt kind, you rarely see a surface that hasn't been shaped by events, some gentle and slow, some cataclysmic and abrupt. Volcanoes erupt, rocks slide, rivers run, fires rage...and the face of the mountain is changed forever. The mountain never tries to hide its face, no matter how ravaged or altered. The only regret ever expressed is by us, looking on, at the loss of some aspect of the mountain we were particularly fond of. We hate it when the rock slide changes the silhouette. We cry when fire turns a green mountainside into a ragged, charred expanse. Why is that? Why are we eager to hang onto things as they used to be? Seems a foolish thing to me, yet I catch myself wallowing in missing things that used to be instead of enjoying things that are. Mountains are good teachers.

7. Vulnerability. When people share less-than-favorite parts of themselves with me...fears, anxieties, feelings of inadequacy, loneliness...all the myriad of human worries and failings...it feels like such a profound honor. It's like they're laying down their shields, opening up and removing their armor, and standing naked and unprotected in front of me. That's huge, because we are all armed to the teeth. A single word, a glance, a shrug...we carry an arsenal that can wound as surely as any sword. Courage...not ignorance of danger or absence of fear, but willingness to be there anyway...is amazing. Trust is a gift.

8. The tastes and scents of summer. Peaches. Sweet red peppers. Melons. Iced tea with fresh mint. Fresh, pan-fried, corn. Tomatoes. Salsa. Anything grilled outside. Ice cold beer. Salads. Fresh herbs still warm from the summer sun. The way the air tastes when you breathe through your mouth after an afternoon rain. Jasmine. Magnolia. Marigold. Heliotrope. Blackberries. Squash. Pool water (don't lie - you know exactly what it tastes like). Okra, tomatoes, and onions with cornbread. Salty kisses after a day of garden work.

9. Our daughters. The women they have become. The surprise of it all. I remember when Amybeth played softball...I watched her all the time and then one night I watched her play and she was moving so fluidly, doing the right things with skill and strength, and I found myself thinking, "When did she become so capable? When did she change from my baby girl who tackled everything with her baby hands and her innocent enthusiasm and not-yet-ripe clumsiness into this young woman, fast and strong and knowledgeable? Nowadays I see Amybear with her gardening and her spiritual path, strong from the physical effort of growing and tending plants. I marvel at Sarah and her animals, at Amybeth and her passion and unwillingness to accept anyhing less than making a positive difference in the world. It's not that I didn't expect them to succeed, to be amazing. I've always known they would. I guess I'm surprised by "...the quickslivery racehorse passage of time..." (Pat Conroy). I know they're smart, strong, capable young women. I'm just surprised that they're not babies anymore. Where does the time go?

10. The pure yes-ness of it all. I find myself moved to tears with gratitude and wonder, sitting on the front porch with Jim, hot, tired from a hard day of work in the yard, garden, house...looking out across the yard, watching fireflies, and thinking...this is all I ever wanted...someone to work alongside, to share a glass of tea at the end of the day, to love without reservation. It just doesn't get any better.

You were right, Sitara. Thanks for the nudge.

Of Heaven and Earth

On the way to work a couple of days ago, I heard Brad Paisley and Dolly Parton on the radio singing, "When I Get Where I'm Going" (written by George Teren and Rivers Rutherford)...

Yeah when I get where I'm goin

There'll be only happy tears

I will shed the sins and struggles

I have carried all these years

And I'll leave my heart wide open

I will love and have no fear

Yeah when I get where I'm going

Don't cry for me down here.

It's a well-written song, beautifully performed by Paisley and Parton. But even while I was enjoying the music, I found myself thinking, "Why have I never felt that way?"

Even when I was trying to walk a Christian path, I was never focused on "where I'm going." I always felt like I was already there. Here. This is where I'm going, where I am.

As a child, I went to the Baptist church. I sang the Sunday School songs and colored the pictures of angels. Even then, the notion that this life is merely a trial to be endured on our way to our "real home" left me cold. Later, when my mother moved us from Baptist to Jehovah's Witness, the idea of a "new earth" made a little more sense, but not so much that I ever felt like I was just marking time, suffering and hoping to make the grade to get there.

Why is that? I am a southern American and our culture is saturated with Judeo-Christian (mostly fundamental Protestant Christian) references to streets of gold and mansions on the hills of our heavenly home. How is it that I never, not once, bought into that vision of our future or longed for the day when I would shed my earthly bonds and fly heavenward? I don't recall ever feeling burdened by sin and struggle, nor have I ever looked homeward toward angels.

Some will undoubtedly see my lack of heavenly focus as evidence that my heart is hardened and I'm lost to the sin and struggle. But I gotta tell you, my heart doesn't feel hard. My heart feels joy and pain. I feel bad when I do something that doesn't uphold my values. I hurt when I hurt others. I'm not evil. I'm not mean. I'm not cruel. No, I definitely don't buy the depraved sinner theory.

I don't know why I have always known that living this life is more important than focusing on some future state of supposed perfection. Maybe I've lived enough turns of the wheel to have figured that out. Maybe not. Whatever the reason, it's allowed me to find delicious joy and beauty every single day. When I'm in pain, when I'm struggling, the next beautiful thing is right here, right now, not something to hope for after I've suffered until I'm dead.

Regardless of why I've always believed this way, one thing that's crystal clear is my life is richer, fuller, more joyful, and more blessed because of it. Gratitude doesn't always require an explanation.

Joyous Encounters With the Divine - More Than One Door To God

After my post yesterday about opening the God door, I had to share something.

I was given a couple of glimpses of God today by people for whom, I'm sure, opening the God door was the last thing on their minds.

The first came early this morning as I was walking into the office. A few yards from the door, I heard behind me, "She's running...she's running! She's running to catch up to YOU!"  I turned and saw a friend running toward me. We laughed, shared our good mornings, and when she asked how I was, I responded (as I often do), "Fat and sassy!" 

She immediately replied, "Oh, we've got to eliminate that phrase!"

Me: "Oh, but it's a good thing!"

Friend: "Does your subconcious know that?"

Zing! Bullseye! Just the reminder I needed to pay attention to the messages I send myself. Funny thing is...I was just thinking about that very topic as part of a workshop I'm in the beginning stages of developing about how we claim to believe that words have power, yet we're careless with how we use those words, especially about ourselves. Even though, conciously, I infuse postive meaning into the words, I'm not sure my subconscious knows any other than the literal meaning of "fat." I don't mind being sassy, but fat is not a state I want to perpetuate. Shame on me, and thank you, Teresa, for being the voice of God this morning.

Next...standing in line in the company cafe, waiting to purchase my oh-goodie-it's-quiche-day breakfast...a woman turns and smiles, one of those hopeful, please talk to me smiles. I shared my joy about quiche day, and she asked, "How do you eat quiche and lose so much weight?"

Now, I didn't know her...don't remember having seen her...but she had noticed and watched my weight loss. And by commenting on it, she not only made me feel good, she gave me an opening to share my frustration at having gained a portion of that weight back. We then talked at length, sharing our frustrations, struggles, and hopes, our successes and continued efforts. It was a shot in the arm, better than any weight loss drug ever invented. And she reminded me that we are influencing others all the time, even when we're not aware of it. Thank you, Lisa, for being the smiling, sharing face of God for me this morning.

Blessings are all around us, all the time.  Sometimes God wears business casual and runs on the sidewalk.

Wishing you joyous encounters with the Divine, every day...and an open, aware, and grateful heart with which to recognize them.

Opening the God Door

My friend and beautiful, creative sister, Sitara Haye, said something last night that has stayed on my mind all day. 

We (the members of my wonderful writing group) were talking about all the ways we keep ourselves from realizing our creative dreams.  Sitara said (loosely quoted)...

Consider that what sets humans apart from other earthly beings is our ability to create, to do more than merely reproduce ourselves biologically, to create something beautiful, moving, or inexplicable from nothing but our own creative energy. Some say that creative energy is God within us, and  what that energy gives birth to is how God is made visible in the world. Consider then, that if you are filled with the fire, the desire to create, and you let fear or insecurity keep you from giving birth, God is left unborn, unknown. Someone will not see God because you didn't open that door.

Sitara made and demonstrated her point in one fell swoop. Through her ability to string words together, to paint with syllables and sounds a picture I had not previously recognized, she opened the God door for me. And God was there telling me to get off my scared, tentative, never-think-I'm-good-enough butt and use the fire in my gut and the dream in my heart.

What can say to that?

"Yes, Ma'am."

Protecting our Egosystem

I heard a speaker at the conference I'm attending (Society for New Communications Research in San Francisco, talking about protecting our "egosystem." By the time I figured out I had misheard him, that he really said "ecosystem," my mind had already taken off on the idea of egosystems and how we operate within them.

Is there a better word for the complex environment of people and personalities we live in? My egosystem is made up of everyone - including me - in my network. In the most liberal interpretation, that includes the entire world. On a more immediate level, it's all the people in my personal network, on my web. And the balance in my egosystem is just as delicate and important to maintain as the ecosystem of the physical world.

With the exception of a few enlightened souls, we all go through the world with our egos raw and exposed. Even for those of us who work hard to recognize and minimize the destructive power of letting our ego always be in control, it's still there getting bruised and knocked about on a daily basis. Too much knocking and bruising and we start to get defensive, protective, retreating into behavior designed to protect from pain.

That makes sense...except the tools we use and the degree to which we employ them are usually way off base. If something frightens us, for example, instead of investigating the source of our fear, we run and hide behind ignorance (the deliberate kind) or, worse yet, apply liberal doses of anger. When we feel vulnerable, we attack, not to mitigate the threat but to anhilate it. We we feel angry, we gunny sack our feelings and whip out the passive-aggressive survival kit, mucking up the whole mess even further. The list is endless. And since it affects everyone on our web, in our egosystem, we end up with human environmental issues... damaged relationships, poor interpersonal encounters, loneliness, heartache.

So how do we protect our fragile egosystem? Start by recognizing it exists. Think about all the people in your world - your very complex, busy, populated world of family, friends, coworkers, strangers. How you treat them matters. How you react to them matters. And though you don't have any control over their actions, your own will certainly have an impact. Are your actions going to bring about the most desired responses? What if they don't? Do you minimize the damage or do you increase the fallout by reacting badly? Do you seek to engage healthily with your human environment, mitigating and controlling pestlike emotions and behaviors, or do you apply the emotional equivalent of DDT?  Just as in our physical environment, anytime you attempt to completely wipe out a component, even  those that annoy you, you create imbalances that skew the web. You don't want to let anger run amok in your life; you don't want to try to eliminate it altogether, either. It's a valid human emotion that, when recognized and used wisely, is valuable.

Thinking on a broader scale, how do our attempts to control group social behavior affect the fragile egosystem of our communities?  If we restrict freedom in favor of safety, what is the effect? What if we don't? How far is far enough and how far is too far?  Whose rights "weigh more?" 

Fear, anger, vulnerability, love, jealousy...they all have their place, even if it's merely to point us toward something that needs fixing.  Working responsibly within our egosystems means that we pay attention to the ego's messages and look to the sources, read the messages there, respond healthily and in ways that foster growth, peace, harmony, and self-respect for ourselves and others. WE look for ways to balance the needs of society with the needs and rights of individuals.

It's our world, this egosystem. We need to spend as much time working to protect our human emotional environment as we do our physical environment. Living "green" starts at home. So does living human, and in human terms, home is you and me.  Balancing and protecting our egosystems starts with us.

Peace.

Greetings from San Francisco and an Opportunity to Do Good

Hello from beautiful San Francisco! It really is beautiful, too...the weather is gorgeous, the city vibrant and fun. I'm grateful to be here and wanted to share some photos with you from my touristy trip through town yesterday. I'll share those a little further down in this post, but first, something more important...

Have you heard about DonorsChoose.org? I am so totally pumped about this organization that is providing much-needed support for public and charter schools in the United States, one classroom, one teacher, one project at a time. By visiting the DonorsChoose website, anyone can view project requests from teachers all over the United States and donate any amount, large or small, to helping teachers reach those goals. You can search for projects by geographic area or by keywords so you can support your local area or a project that is dear to your heart. For your generosity, you get real thank you letters from teachers and students and photos of the students enjoying what you helped to support.

DonorsChoose is the brainchild of Charles Best, a former Bronx high school teacher. Charles kept having and hearing the same conversations among his fellow teachers. There simply wasn't any money available for the projects, library items, field trips, and equipment teachers wanted for their classrooms. Charles started simply with a low-tech approach; he used free desserts to bribe fellow teachers to visit a simple website he built and type in their most cherished projects, the ones they most wished they could do. He then anonymously funded the projects himself.

Word got out that the website worked, and requests spread. Charles enlisted his students for a volunteer letter writing campaign and raised the first $30,000 to fund DonorsChoose.

Now, DonorsChoose.org's website houses requests from teachers all over the United States. The requests are all checked out by a volunteer corps of teachers who have successfully used the program themselves and who make sure each project is legitimate and meets the criteria. Donors can read about projects and see how much money it will take to fund it, how much has been given, and how much is still needed.

DonorsChoose is funded in part by an optional 15% administrative fee that is included in each donation. Donors can leave the fee in place or opt out at their discretion. Some costs are still met by private donors, but the company expects to be self-funded in a few years.

Cooler still are some of the ways DonorsChoose.org is working with corporations and companies. Imagine receiving a gift card from a company you do business with giving you the opportunity to make a donation to any project you choose, spending the company's money? Crate and Barrell did it, and it was a huge success. Other companies have done the same. What a great alternative to sending flowers or a box of chocolates or a tin of popcorn!

DonorsChoose.org believes in staying true to its original mission. When they recently received a million dollar award, they didn't think it was right to let the DonorsChoose.org staff allocate the money. Instead, the put the money on gift cards and distribute them to allow others to make the choices. Here at the SNCR Forum, we each received $50 cards to go onto the site and pick any project we wanted to support. I love it! It was so much fun reading all the project requests and so hard to make a decision. In the end, though, I made my choice, a Tennessee classroom that needs a digital camera for projects. You can read about it here, and make a donation of your own if you like.

I hope you will choose to visit and to give, and I hope my company, Unum, will consider including DonorsChoose in their giving programs. I'm certainly going to make a case for it.

Now, as promised, photos. Enjoy!

Earth Day - More Than Just Recycling

I'm enjoying the flurry of messages bounding around my workplace, each encouraging us to recycle, plant trees, grow flowers, drive less, walk more...all the good, green practices that Earth Day brings to top of mind.

Along with all those active, Earth-friendly practices, I'd like to suggest that we add a mindfulness component to our Earth Day:

• When you eat a meal, take a moment to be mindful of every aspect of that meal - where it was grown, how it got here, how it was prepared, wrapped, served. Who touched it along the way to bring it to you? Savor it all, not just the food but all the energy that went into bringing you nourishment.
• When you work, take a moment to be mindful of all the tools you work with - the paper, the equipment, the power that runs them. Think about everything that went into bringing those things to your hand at this moment. What are they made of? Where did they come from? Who made them? Under what conditions? How did they get here?
• When you walk outside, take a moment to be mindful of everything you see - the natural elements and the manmade. How do they work together? What impact does each have on the other? Are they thriving side-by-side? What do you see-hear-feel-smell? Sense the energy of the space; is it calm, peaceful, harmonious...or is it chaotic, agitated, discordant? Why?
• When you walk inside, take a moment to feel the floor below you, to breathe the air, to notice the light. Try tracing all the elements of your indoor environment all the way back to their origins. Do you know what they're made of, how they're made, how they get here?
• Notice the people you see, those you speak to and those you don't. Earth is not just grass and trees, clean air and water. WE are Earth, too. What can you do to promote health, harmony, happiness among the human natural resources in your life?

Mindfulness is a step toward gratitude...and those who know me, know I'm all about gratitude. When we view the world through grateful eyes, it changes the way we see everything, and the way we live.

Happy Earth Day, my Earthly friends (those I know, and those I don't)!

The Sexiest Thing I've Read in a Long Time

Yes...yes, yes, yes!

I love this poem by fellow blogger Maithri Goonetielke at The Soaring Impulse. The imagery, the unashamed intimacy, the sensual nature of the words you feel more than read, and my favorite part...

Where wildness is sanctified, And humanness is holy...

What a wonderful place that is...where we don't try to separate our wild, human nature from our spitirual nature...where we embrace humanness and sexuality as holy...

...holy as a prayer;
...holy as a hymn;
...holy as a sacred fire and a spiritual dance to a drum dedicated to the god and goddess in us all.

Enjoy this gift...with love.

Seduction

Come to me,

When the river
of Daylight
is at its ebb,

And I will show you
How soft
Darkness
can be.

Here
in this
Deep forest

Where yearning shadows
Fall
into the
open arms
of the suppliant earth,

Where the yellow eyed
Jaguar
Stalks the wind
with velvet step,

Where
wildness is
sanctified,
And humanness
is holy,

I offer you this wounded
hand,

Come with me
And I will show
you the
fire
that burns
without smoke

The branches
where the little spider
weaves love
from out the womb
of midnight,

The way
the naked stream dances
As she dreams of
the cool fingers
of the ocean

Kiss my skin
And Iwill breathe you
in
to the soul
of the music
I hear

I will search you
till i find the places
where you are
aching

Lie down
with you
by the shoulders
of the fire,

exchanging
pleasure
for brokenness,

While the drum
beats
on

Into the

endlessness

Copyright - Maithri Goonetilleke 2008 on The Soaring Impuls blog

Saved by an Estrogen Tsunami

When you pray for rain, buy an umbrella.

I asked the universe to rain on me and end the creative drought I found myself in. Salvation came in torrents, waves of beautiful, quenching relief that washed over me like a flood, waking me up and bringing me back to life.

I went to a women's retreat this past weekend. We called it a Goddess Weekend, but I like the name a friend from Twitter used for a women's outing - an estrogen tsunami. (Thanks, @micrathene!)

This tsunami was made up of woman of all ages and stages of life. There were the just barely eighteens, the young mother suckling her son, the single, the married, the divorced, the mothers and grandmothers. Some were healthy and robust; some were battling illnesses. Some were happy and cheerful; some were seeking solace. It would be hard to find a more diverse group. Yet among them all there was a common thread of strength, creativity, survival.

How can I tell you how good it was to be in the company of these women? We laughed and talked and told stories. We shared a powerful ritual in which the maiden, the mother, and the crone used us to tell the stories and teach the lessons we needed to hear. We made food together and cleaned up together. We danced and celebrated being sexy and fun. We loaded our own gear in and out and hooked up our own electronics and backed our own cars in and out of the woods. It was fun, but most of all, it was healing. Whatever the cause of my creative drought, the beautiful, wild, soaking rain of my sisters' company has put it to rest.

In honor of the estrogen tsunami, I'll share some photos I took this weekend. Water is a favorite subject for me and my camera, and the light and patterns of the creek flowing over the rocks just fascinated me. Maybe it reminded me of the way we women flow through life...over rocks and jagged edges, under, over, and around obstacles, sometimes in a flood, sometimes in a trickle, but we keep moving, moving, moving. Along the way, we cleanse, heal, soothe, refresh, nourish...when needed, we reshape, remove, and destroy. We are strong, even when our touch is tender.

Rush on, sisters...rush on.

Rain on me! Surviving a Creative Drought

I am parched.

Cracked.

Dry as dust and windblown.

Not a drop of creative juice is flowing. It seems that all my energy of late has been expended on work and getting over a sinus infection, and there just isn't anything left over for this blog or any of my other writing endeavors.

I want a rain dance. Sweet, Blessed Lady, send me a gully washer!

While I await the gentle-to-pounding rain to come...what do you do when the river of words dries up?

I've always found inspiration in the world around me...in things people say and do and in the near constant stream of questions I ask the universe. When I'm so consumed with work and not feeling well to boot, even the questions dry up. I know they'll come back...they always do. In the meantime, I'll go to bed early and catch up on some much-needed sleep. When the dry bed is once again roaring with surging, juicy, creative goodness, I'll remind myself that sleep is overrated and make up for lost time.

I hope.

Choosing God

Wow...I've been away for a long time. I've missed you!

I just finished (finally!) reading "Life of Pi"...a wonderful book. In it, the main character as a child wants nothing so much as to know and love god. He finds willing teachers...the Rabbi, the Imam, the Priest...and studies with all of them, willingly and happily enjoying the good things he finds there, mixing and matching the prayers and rituals at will, happy with the closeness to god each brings him. Imagine his confusion when, on a family outing, he and his parents (somewhat agnostic) run into all of these religious leaders, each proud that little Pi has been studying with him...and watching them dissolve into argument when they learn he's been "two-timing god"...insisting that he MUST choose and demanding that he do so.

Then I received an email from a dear friend this morning with the following:

Oh Jesus I love you
And I love Buddha too
Ramakrishna, Guru Dev
Tao Te Ching and Mohammed
Why do some people say
That there is just one way
To love you God and come to you
We are all a part of you
You are un-nameable
You are unknowable
All we have is metaphor
That’s what time and space are for
Is the universe your thought
You are and you are not
You are many, You are one
Ever ending, Just begun
Alright, alright, alright
I love you and Buddha too
-Mason Jennings


You can see it performed live here. Worth a view!

Enjoy...and don't let anyone make you choose if you don't want to!