Magnolia Dreams

Before my house was built, before the land was cleared, my friend Ted and I walked through the trees. I whispered my thanks to them. I was so thankful for that little piece of land and everything that grew upon it. I thanked the trees for their strength and towering beauty and for the sacrifice they would make so my family and I would have a place of laughter and Love and shelter.

In the midst of the giant pines and oaks was a majestic magnolia. It was tall and full; it was lush. Ted encouraged me to ask the builder to save that tree and I did. I marked it and asked him to make sure he kept it. It was far enough away from the house site that it didn't need to be removed. But, as you have already guessed, when the land was cleared the magnolia was cleared along with it.

We moved into the house in February, when everything was grey and bare; the land slept deeply that winter and it would not be until the spring that I would notice the little twig of magnolia. It was no more than 2.5 feet tall, with its full and dark green leaves. It was growing right next to a mighty oak and I thought the roots of the oak would likely strangle the little offshoot of magnolia.

Each spring, acknowledging that it had made it through the winter, I willed it to bloom. All the magnolias in other yards, on other grounds would be filled with blossoms in late spring. The scent would fill the surrounding air and evoke images of lovers and lazy southern nights. Those tall and fragrant trees always made me remember the tree I had lost to the builder's short term memory or, if I was feeling unkind, to his broken promise. I wanted that baby magnolia to assert itself, to be gaudy in its display of flowers, to be whole.

Over the last 11 years, the tiny tree has been my touch stone. It sits just outside my bedroom window at the start of the treeline. On evenings when I felt the weight of the world crushing in on me with fears of losing my business (when I was consulting) or of losing my mind (when I began a 9 - 5 in the public sector), I would look out at that little magnolia and smile. Because, dwarfed as it was by the trees around it, small as it was standing against the winds and storms and droughts, barren as it was, still, it was always there. Its survival gave me hope of my own ability to carry on.

Jorge left a comment a few weeks ago and he labeled me resilient. It was an interesting adjective, one that I had not associated with my self before. And, I liked it. I have survived and I am not jaded or inert. I am still trying, still learning, still putting one foot in front of the other. I have not the brilliant blooms of some or the authority of others, but, I am still here.

Like my magnolia.

Last week, I awoke as the sun was beginning to rise. The trees are so tall they block the sun for several hours but, the light makes its presence known. And in that early morning light of intermingled greys and blues, my little magnolia shrugged in the breeze and offered me a glimpse of her first bloom.

It brought tears to my eyes.

Dreams

Many will write about how far this country has come as we celebrate the Life of one of the country's greatest leaders while simultaneously preparing to swear in our 1st black president. So, I will leave the theorizing to them.

I just want to acknowledge the power inherent in this week. Power for a seemingly powerless people; power that proves that no one of us is ever truly powerless.

I still have so many hopes and dreams for this Life of mine and today I can admit to that openly, freely. Today I can feel the power of dreams made real. Not wishes, which require little more than thought and luck. But dreams, those fields of energy that come from the soul, require work and sacrifice and a bit of luck, too. I must admit that I have confused the two in my lifetime and paid the price for my confusion.

Today though, dreams feel like an option. There is power surrounding us; it's in the charged air, the open hearts and the grateful souls that line the Mall in Washington, that sit in classrooms and in bars, that sing in choirs and with guitars in coffee houses; it's in the poetry that will be dedicated to this moment in time, to our moment in time.

Use that power while it is here, let it move through your Life. Get to work on your dreams. Right now.

Life is Fragile and It Keeps on Coming, Too

This weekend was very interesting. I must remember to ask my friend Audrey if Mercury is/was retrograde.

Friday night I was the person designated to get my neighbor, Julie, to her surprise birthday party. It was quite a struggle because I had 3 things to do, all around the same time. My daughter had to get to her first high school football game by 6:00 pm. My Mom had to go to the doctor by 5:30 pm and the neighbor had to be at her party by 7:30 pm.

For the better part of the day I was in a staff retreat that went really well but, kept me from the high level phone use I needed to coordinate this madness called my Life. Feeling stretched in a hundred different directions I started to decide what had to be lopped-off.

The baby girl still hasn't forgiven me because, after 5 calls to other Moms, I couldn't find anyone else going to the game that could bring her home. I promised that I would move heaven and earth for the next one.

Mom called and left a voice mail (that I didn't pick-up until too late) that informed me she was driving herself to the doctor. Unfortunately, she gets turned around very easily and, it turns out, she was headed to the wrong office. If I had listened to the message I could have gotten to her in time. But, I was trying to speak with her directly so I kept calling her w/o checking voicemail. She, on the other hand, never answered the phone. Not 1 out of the 5 times I called that day.

When I finally did listen to the messages, she was shouting at me on the last one to listen to the messages! "I'm driving myself, you can go get baby girl and do whatever else you need to do. I will get to the Cooperville Office on my own." I'm not sure why she was so frustrated, probably the stress of deciding to go it alone. I tried to call her to tell her that she was making a mistake, but she didn't answer. By the time I got home she was livid, having missed her 5:30 pm at the Southgrove Office.

Then, Julie was being completely uncooperative. She didn't want to go out, she wanted to stay at home and play Rummikub. I worked my butt off to convince her that we needed to go out. I talked about my successes this week and how I just wanted to go out to a nice place and have a small bite and a few drinks.

Meanwhile, my secret plan was to have my baby girl take Julie's youngest for a walk then call me to say she (my daughter) had twisted her ankle. This would give me a good excuse to drive my neighbor to the pool area where we were staging her party.

Finally, something was going to go right. We ladies were nicely dressed and ready. The kids had started off on their walk. She went upstairs to her bathroom to put on a little make-up and I went out to the car to pass her husband (who had just driven up) the wine.

As I closed the car door I felt a little pinch on the middle toe of my right foot. Thinking I got caught by a mosquito I kept walking to hand off the wine. In the 3 minutes that it took to put the wine in the back seat of their SUV and walk back into the house I could feel that something was wrong.

My lips were tingling and then they started to hurt. My ears were hot and my entire head began to hurt from the inside out and the feeling was moving to my arms and chest. It was under the skin and everything was burning and hurting and hives began to appear. I could feel my eyes and mouth swelling and when I ran to the mirror I was treated to a sight that I can only describe as Will Smith's scene in "Hitch". Only, it was a lot funnier in the movie.

I called out to Julie to see if she had any Benadryl and thankfully, she did. I took 2 quick dissolving strips (the doctors later told me that they prefer the quick strips to the tablets) and hoped that I wouldn't explode before they had time to work. While my breathing never became labored, I could feel myself on the verge of hyperventilating from the stress of it all. This is when all that meditation comes in handy. I did the deep breath, Zen thing and kept myself calm.

Just as I walk over to the sofa to sit down, my phone rings. It's my baby girl, right on time. I couldn't help but laugh (to myself, of course) and sent my neighbor off to scoop up my falsely crippled child and enjoy her party.

Having seen my condition, Julie wanted to come back to her house and see about me. I managed to convince her to send someone else back with my daughter and immediately called my health care provider. The very pleasant nurse practitioner told me to go to the hospital immediately. She stayed on the line with me until my daughter arrived and I got in touch with another neighbor to take me to the hospital.

By the time I got there a good bit of the swelling had subsided but, they wasted no time before stabbing me 4 times in unsuccessful attempts to start an IV. It was at this point that I looked around, read the signs and realized that I was in a teaching hospital for nurses. Yep, I was a pin cushion.

I believe the term they used was infiltrated, when the pain in my arm became so severe I thought I would shout a mouthful of cuss words at the next medical staff person to pass by. Finally, they took the damn IV needle out and advised me that I would be there for a few hours of observation.

I'm guessing the look on my face (and my adamant pronouncements to the contrary) made them change their minds because within 15 min I had discharge orders and my freedom.

Now you might think that all's well that ends well but, the next day my daughter had a hair appointment to get the tips of her locks dyed.

All I will say is this - orange, yellow, tears and two dye jobs at home to correct it.

Life...
You gotta Love it!

God?

They say that He is the Loving God

Even though He strikes and smites

And if you have doubts you’re a sinner

Who’ll lose eternal Life

But I really don't like bullies,

Despots, tyrants or shrews

Who tell me there’s a toll to pay

For what I can and cannot do

I think folks have it all wrong

Love doesn’t operate from fear

It fills your heart with wonder

And demonstrates its care

So, keep your God, I believe I’ll pass

Until some changes are made

A little less death and destruction

A balance of sun and shade

For now, I’ll look in the mirror

When I want to cast some blame

Or at my fellow humans who commit

Horrors better left unnamed

And when this Life is over

I know not what will be

But I will have done the best I could

And that’s good enough for me

Transitions

I call to mind the lingering stares
that once roamed my full and lush figure
and I must admit to missing the signs of appreciation that,
years ago,
I held in disdain.

Now, don’t get me wrong,
I still receive a smile, a wink and a nod
on the rare occasion when,
feeling like a diva
I put on the red dress,
show a little cleavage and
let my hips swing a bit freer when I walk.

But, on those days,
my moon never fails to ask
“Mom, is that what you’re wearing today?”

As if she is, by common law
and the rights of adolescence,
the only one of us allowed
to swim in the pleasure of desire given
and desire received.

I laugh at her question (most of the time)
bob my head in the affirmative
and summon up my determination to Be beauty.

Though I wonder why it gets so much harder
to know that I-got-it-goin’-on feeling
with each year that passes.
Or, when it was that I began to doubt
the power of my womanly body
which,
though larger
and marked with many more curves
still radiates warmth,
still opens to enjoy a soft embrace,

still surrounds the object of its yearning
with a moist and enveloping passion.

Strange and constricting
the way the world defines me
as it passes by
without the slightest notion
of the depths of my mind, my heart or my pleasures.
Casting an eye only at the surface;
as if
what you see
really is
what you get.

Mature, aged, older, one foot
on the banana peel, ripe, antique,
durable, seasoned;
call me what you will -

All I ask is to be truly seen
and in the seeing to be known
and in the knowing to be Loved.

For I am ALIVE -
more than I have ever been,
though far less than I will become.

Happy New Year To All

Though there are things to lament in this past year, there are things to celebrate, as well. I remind myself to strive towards my highest possibility and, when I am at my best, that is Love, peace and a Life lived in harmony with the world.

I wish you all a 2008 filled with realized hopes and dreams fulfilled. May your paths be sweet as honey and warm as mother's milk.

Happy New Year!

A Holiday Message

In a world where Life seems to rush by,
Where time slips
like new shoes on a freshly waxed and beautiful wood floor
and working through fear and regret
can be a full time job,
There is so very much for which to give thanks.

Thanks
For all the small, mundane opportunities to see the bright and laughable side of Life,
For the triumphs and seeming failures,
For the lens that looks back and forward with a panoramic view
- allowing learning rather than judgment,
For the changes that take place so slowly they are hardly recognizable
until a glance in the mirror reminds us that we have come from there to here;
through the sun showers and tsunamis, the droughts and sand storms.

Here, I stand, thankful
For the gentle spirits that lift me up
with their kind words through phone lines,
on these blog pages and hand-in-hand.
Thankful for the joy and Love that only mothers know,
For the balance that accepts that other Loves may not be mine to cherish.

I am bursting full
of thanks
for this breath
and this breath
and the next;

Thankful that you
and I
are Life,
full of possibility;
we are a miniscule bit of a magnificent whole.


Have a wonderful meal.

Chocolate City

When I started this blog a few months back, I thought I would stay far away from all things politic. But, as is the frequent case in my Life, I was telling the set-up for a joke and just didn't realize it.

So, what's a barely awake black woman to do when, at 5:30 am, she's confronted with Mayor Ray Nagin, telling all who would listen that God (not Redd Foxx or Groucho Marx, but God) spoke to him and told him that New Orleans was meant to be a chocolate city and that the hurricanes represented The Divine's displeasure with the US?

What to do indeed! Well, write about it of course - no other realistic choice. (And don't forget that earlier this month Pat Robertson knew that Israeli Prime Minister Sharon was being struck by God for keeping the holy land divided)

I had to write about the insanity that seems to creep up on each of us. True, it leaks boldly from the mouths of the prominent and the outrageously famous (Tom Cruise's pronouncements about post partum depression and anti-depressants); while we think we are holding it together and feel free to guffaw at their expense. We think we see the world through a real and rational lens, but all along our view is distorted and we're the only ones who don't know it. The joke's on us.

Remember when many among us thought that it made sense to invade Iraq (I wasn't in this group, but so many seemingly rational people were)? Decisions were made out of fear and a need to feel safe, when we felt anything but. So, we decided to strike first, and if what the experts say is true, we are less safe now than we were before we rolled in. So many lives lost and broken.

Now, please don't get your patriotic feathers ruffled. We're all in this boat together. Because we all succumb to fear and stress. Some of us may fall harder and with more people watching, but none of us is immune.

I can remember when the sight of a past boss could make me want to commit violence (and I've taught peaceful conflict resolution for years). I just, with a little unconscious trick of my mind, turned all her shortcomings into monumental failings. I managed to see her as the key to my losses, the reason for my stress, the symbol of everything that brought me discomfort. You see, in the end, we've all had the desire to strike out, to end the wrongs that we think are being done or prevent the horrors that we think might be done to us. I am not much different than my fellow US inhabitants who called for the invasion of Iraq. (Some might argue degree, but it's a slippery slope, my friend)

We try to find a reason for our distress and without fail we point our fingers outward. It's always someone else's (person, family, company, country) fault. They are always the problem. But, how do you tell the difference between them and us? At the heart of things, or even in the DNA of things, there isn't much difference between us. The difference is primarily in our heads, a matter of perception.

We're all swimming in the insanity of this world we have created. Some of us feed on it greedily, while most of us are numbly unaware of its affect on our lives and our thoughts.

As for me, I'm vigilantly trying to figure out when I'm acting out of my insanity (or the insanity around me) and make myself breathe a little slower, act with peaceful, powerful and creative intention, judge those I see caught up in it with a light heart while lending an ear and a hand. I have a t-shirt that sums it up:
Humankind - be both.

I guess when all is said and done, what could be better at 5:30 am than a little chocolate and a big laugh?

Life Questions for the New Year

Life brings change; welcome and unwelcome. The difference between the two is often only a matter of perception if our basic needs for food, shelter, safety and belonging are being met. Here in the United States, many of us are fortunate enough to have abundance in these areas.

Last week I caught myself envious of a colleague who is about to build a new home. Huge bedrooms, great room, backyard, kitchen, etc. A dream house for her and her partner. Oh, how I did covet the ability to do that! I began to think about my lack of financial resources, played the blame game (and I placed a good bit of it on my own shoulders, I'll have you know) and completed a solid course of internal whining.

But, thanks to long Life and self-reflection, my thoughts eventually turned to all the wonderous things I have done, seen and experienced, in my time on this planet. I started to think about all the plans I have set in motion and the desires I have yet to fulfill. Perhaps a poor choice on my part, but I have never been interested in accumulating anything other than Love. And even that I am learning to give before I receive (slow going on some days, but I am learning!). But , I sometimes worry about the day when I will be considered old. Will I have enough to survive - to provide for my basic needs?

This culture values many things external to the inner Life. Whether that has a positive or negative impact on our lives is a relevant conversation. If our basic needs are met, what guides our choices? Is it the accumulation of material and physical things or is it our reason d'etre, our purpose? What is our purpose in Life and how do we know if we are fulfilling it? What choices do we make if fulfilling that purpose does not bring us the wealth we see around us? Should we change course or plod onward? I have found myself considering these questions over the past few years.

Who are we? and Why are we here? become central questions that begin in adolescence and continue throughout our lives. How we answer these questions deeply influences our outcomes. The choices we make as we define ourselves can have long term implications. As a nation we are riddled with divorce, isolation, longing, violence, poverty, and an unquenchable desire for more of everything. We are chasing joy, and while some of us find a bit on Sunday, most of us take comfort that the "other guy/girl/group" won't find favor with our God. That somehow we are better, by virtue of our beliefs.

And if I choose to follow the path designed by my inner Life, as I most certainly will, I realize I am engaging in a massive experiment. The creation of reality, my reality, on this planet. With its ripple effect on the rest of the collective consciousness, what I believe and live has power. And the same is true of you. (Lakota Clay has a nice piece on the noetic sciences and the expansion of our consciousness - check it out at the link on the right).

Most of us just want to get from one day to the next, make sure our children are safe and healthy and protect whatever possessions we have that we believe are valuable. Given the stress and strains of Life, the level of violence we tolerate and perpetuate, and the barriers that keep us separate from one another, these goals are by no means small ones. Yet, it seems to me that there must be a way to live more harmoniously, with less fear and so much more ease in fulfilling the basic needs of Life.

I think it requires a change of mind. That we see ourselves as connected to one another and make our decisions from that perspective. That we allow ourselves to be guided by what we know in our hearts is true. That we offer help instead of punishment, Love instead of hate, truth instead of convenient excuses. Those are huge changes. And along the way there will be hard questions about how to react when we are feeling attacked, when others are not changing and threaten our well being. I wish I had answers for these questions, but I am just trying to navigate my way through the change along with my fellow pathmakers/pathfinders.

I do know that there is a tipping point. The point at which enough people have changed their minds in favor of Love that the course of human existence will be changed for the better and that change will be unstoppable. There will be enough people believing in living Life from a place of inner Love, truth and joy that the differences between us will no longer be reasons for fear, pain and death.

In my heart, I know that all of us are powerful. The sun shines on the just and unjust alike; Love is for everyone. I am lucky that many of the people I come in contact with are of like mind and spirit. They support me in remembering and understanding my purpose, in the face of those circumstances, ideas and emotional responses that might derail me. I am grateful for their Love and kindness.

This holiday season, as you go about your family and religious ceremonies, think about what is really important in your Life. Ask yourself the central questions Who am I? and Why am I here? Then jot down a line or two and add them to this site. I'd like to support you in your quest to live Life from the inside-out.

That the sun will shine brightly upon you is given. My prayer is that you recognize its warmth upon your face.

Crashing Into The Theory of One

The pairs of opposites keep us in an illusion and make us think, 'This is this, and that is that'. At the same time by throwing a greater light upon things we shall find in the end that they are quite different from what we had thought. Seeing the nature and character of life, the Sufi says that it is not very important to distinguish between two opposites. What is most important is to recognize that One which is hiding behind it all. Naturally after realizing life the Sufi climbs the ladder which leads him to unity, to the idea of unity which comes through the synthesis of life, by seeing One in all things, in all beings. Pir-o-Murshid Inayat Khan

I know I'm late checking out this movie, but having seen it I feel as if I could write about it, talk about it, debate about it for hours and hours. Okay, so what does Crash have to do with the Sufi belief expressed above?

From my perspective, the most interesting position of the movie was that judgment, in all its many forms cuts many ways. At first glance there are clearly racist and ignorant people running rampant in this world. And I know that's no surprise to anyone. But look a little closer, because those same bullies and villains are full of compassion, understanding, helplessness, disillusionment, Love and all of the other emotions that make us human.

What is good and what is bad changes when we change our vantage point. Judge not lest ye be judged, comes to mind. How can any of us know the why of another's actions? I think of the number of times I have done things and not understood the why of them until months or years later.

If the path of our Soul can be hidden from us until the time of our individual understanding, it can only be arrogance that has us believing we know the Soul of another.

Je m'accuse! I am guilty of the offense as charged. And so we come to another essential question. How do we remember, honor and make room for the path of our fellow beings? We live in a world where duality appears to rule. You bring me pain, but I want pleasure. I do the unexpected and you label it 'bad', I behave as you wish and you label me 'good'. I hate you and yet what I want is to Love you. We bounce between these poles and believe this is Life. And when we're not bouncing we're stuck and waiting for the next 'good' thing to happen or working to avoid the next 'bad' thing.

I'm starting to believe that Life is more than the trip between opposites, more than the shades of gray we seem to find around every corner. I am asking myself to look around behind the thing in front of me and see the One. What is there that I cannot see? What is the essential answer that makes pain or pleasure meaningless, right or wrong irrelevant, Life or death illusion?

There is only One that can do that when given our attention. That Everything that has many names, none of them complete. It is the All of Life, beyond our ability to conceive until we reach past duality, and then we can sense only the barest inkling. To get there I think I have to be open to the reality that is right in front of me. Open to the people I Love and the people I say I can't Love. I struggle with that, because it FEELS like some people are more worthy than others. Because some people bring out in me what feels 'good' (and oh, how I Love to Love them) and others bring out the parts of me that are challenged and challenging - so I feel 'bad' (working day and night not to hate them).

What's a being to do? I circle round on this planet, through the cycles of seasons, lessons, births and losses. I try to remember that I am - I try to remember that I AM! To honor this Life as the living representation of its Creator. And here, at the mid-point of my Life, I am learning to remember that you too, are the living representation of my Creator; along with everything else of energy and matter. Here, at the mid-point, I've come crashing into the theory of One.

What The Bleep

What The Bleep Do We Know

Being a parent means coming up with the answers - how to figure percentages, solve algebraic equations, even deciding what's for dinner. It's a part of the job. But what do we do with the really tough questions? Questions like what's the purpose of Life, why I am here, why does it hurt sometimes, how can we ever really know each other, have we been here before and will we be back again.

They are the essential questions that I've asked myself, and doubtless you have too. These days I wonder if I will be able to articulate the stumbling answers I have found when the wonder I call Sky asks them. (You can see that I am ever hopeful that when she asks I'll be one of those folks that she turns to for help with the answers) I feel as if I am still searching for answers of my own. But if asked today here is what I might tell her:

We are here for Love. To give it and receive it, to expect it yet not demand it. We are here to give freely from our hearts, to join consciously with our Spirits, to share openly with our minds. When it hurts it's because we've forgotten why we're here, and if we hang in with that hurt (though not necessarily with the person who helped give rise to it) - we can remember what we have forgotten. That we are perfect creations in a perfect and orderly Universe which is ever expanding and unfolding. That much of what we think we know is only what we believe and each of us is as wrong as we are right. That our perceptions of time and space are mental tricks that we have a difficult time breaking out of.

But, sometimes we have miracles that overcome those false boundaries - miracles of night dreams and daydreams that bring messages; or when a book that holds some truth we need shouts at us in a bookstore or friends and strangers alike recommend it with no way of knowing how much we need that very book; or when a friend or relative we've been thinking of calls; or we get an idea to take a different route to work and find out we saved 2 hours in traffic because the usual way was backed up by an accident. You know what I'm talking about, maybe you call it coincidence. I call it Spirit and it speaks to us all the time.

There are so many markers on the road to our freedom, so many messages whispered to our souls, and we need to pay attention. The real tricky part is that my path is not yours - we're each on a very unique journey. And yet, we're all connected on the journey to One. It's a real mystery, full of seeming contradiction. But for each of us there are also things that we know are true. My one hope is that, for my young one, the path to truth holds as little pain as possible. A hope shared by many a Mom.

So what do you think of the essential questions?