The Second Coming

After two days of malaise, I realized I was grieving the loss of my country as I have known it. It happened gradually, as events unfolded and next generations arose, until their collective impact forced me to acknowledge that the U.S. I have loved no longer exists.

What will rise in its place has not yet been revealed. So, as I wait, I remember William Butler Yeats’ poem The Second Coming. https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/43290/the-second-coming

You write it: What are your thoughts?

Take the Trip You Truly Want

I met someone recently who had just returned from a trip to Africa. Here is what I remember from her description of the trip: (1) Her husband lost his credit cards. (2) She accidentally overtipped one of their guides. (3)The bush plane was very uncomfortable. (4) They saw many migrating animals dying in the water. (5)A fellow traveler had no small denominations for tips, so my new acquaintance had to bail her out.

I don’t remember any description of beauty or fun or enjoyment.

I live in Sedona, AZ, where people have the lifestyle they truly want. But are they living the lives they truly want? How much true enjoyment are they getting? What draws their focus?

This experience illustrates why I wrote my newest book, Live the Life You Truly Want. It will be out soon, available on Amazon. Stay tuned.

You write it: Think about a recent trip. Did you experience the trip you really wanted?

Perfect As Is

A few years ago, I co-authored a book entitled Rewriting Life Scripts: Transformational Recovery for Families of Addicts. My role was to write true stories from family members to illustrate that addiction is truly a family disease, and anyone in the family who makes a change can lead the way to recovery for others. I know it’s true because it’s the story of my life.

I re-read the book a few days ago, thinking it needs revision. It doesn’t. It’s perfect as it is, still relevant.

You write it: What do you do with something in your life that’s been around awhile but still has meaning and potential?

Ravens

On Chat GPT this morning, I asked for the symbolism of ravens. Here’s what came up: Ravens appear when something in your life is shifting. . . . Spiritually, they

remind you not to fear endings, because every ending opens space for renewal.”

This morning, on the day I’ll finish my latest book, my yard is filled with ravens. I wonder what the new beginning will be?

You write it: Are any new beginnings on your horizon?

O Is for Open

Since a new school year is beginning, here is an excerpt from my book Alphabet Meditations for Teachers, available on Amazon:

Open doors are more inviting than closed ones.

I remember a magical night at the home of my friend.

As I entered the curved drive, lights were ablaze in the house.

The door was wide open; my loving host was waiting.

Open my eyes to the doors I have shut.

Ask for me open questions.

Is my face that of a loving host?

In my room, are lights ablaze?

When I speak, do I open by

Inviting their ideas, or do I close by stating mine?

Stop me from being The Great Pontificator,

With all the answers to unasked questions.

Teach me how to open their minds

By opening my own. Help me not fear not knowing.

I know my role is Great Questioner,

Not Great Answerer, and Partner in Discovery.

When I’m open, I find wonder,

Excitement, peace. So will they.

Hold my hand. Whisper softly to me,

“Ye shall know the truth, and the truth shall set you free.”

Intention #1

Every day—sometimes more than once a day—I write an intention because it focuses me and opens me to greater possibility. Here’s what I wrote yesterday:

I open space to continuously learn and grow.

Try it and, at the end of the day, make a note of what happened.

Stopping an Energy Drain

For the second time this month, I discovered a leak in my drip irrigation. Immediately, I emailed my lawn service to repair it—because water is expensive, and I really despise waste. This makes a good analogy for my topic today—stopping an energy drain. Except the kind of drain I have in mind is the one we allow people to do.

One of my favorite questions for clents is, “What gives you energy?” . . . “What takes energy away?” As they list energizers and energy depleters, they quantify each one and then make decisions about what to let go of or lessen and what to strengthen.

Recently I decided to let go of a major depleter—a person who drains my energy—and already my life has changed. The energy I was using to manage my response to her behavior is now free for my creativity and initiative, which are growing through insight and ability to take action.

You write it: Is anything or anybody depleting your energy? What do you need to do?

Intention: I enjoy the freedom and peace of letting go.

Cycle

I discovered recently a deeply held belief I wasn’t aware I had—that, if I learned enough, practiced enough, tried hard enough, I could be healed from wounds within that cause me pain. Truthfully, I have done a lot of forgiving of myself and others, but a dear friend helped me realize that, in fact, we are constantly on this path towards healing, and we will never finish until our last breath. But that’s not reason to be discouraged because each memory of experience is less painful than the last one, and we just keep telling the truth and taking responsibility for our own thoughts and actions in whatever way works for us. Forgiving is not a one-and-done; it’s a diminishing cycle.

You write it: What’s your experience in forgiving yourself and others?

Reflection

With unbelieving, unaccepting eyes, I watch the news about Texas Hill Country flooding. My heart hurts for so many young lives cut short, so many families forever changed. In spring, bluebonnets will bloom again, but for now, there’s only grief without words.

Ravens and Coyotes

Twice this has happened to me in walks in my neighborhood with my dog, Colt. First, I noticed a group of 4-6 ravens circling and cawing loudly. Then I saw the coyote. The first time, it was a group of coyotes ahead, and I turned around and went the other way. The next time, it was only one, behind us, not following, but I blew my air horn anyway, and he moved away faster. After having a close encounter with a coyote several weeks ago, I pay close attention to the behavior of ravens.

The point I want to make with this blog is that so often I am so preoccupied with my own thoughts that I don’t pay attention to what’s in front of me and to encourage you, dear reader, to live in the moment, fully present.

You write or draw it: How “in the present” are you?

Eternal Flame

Yesterday Sedona unveiled a new sculpture by James Muir at the Chapel Road roundabout. It’s a mobius ring with a solar-powered eternal flame. In the dedication, the artist said the sculpture represents “the boundless nature of love and infinite journey of the spirit.”

You write it: How have you been inspired recently?

Transformation

Before my friend arrived, Colt began barking vigorously from the fenced back yard. At first I couldn’t make out what he was barking at. Then it moved, harmlessly slithering. I thought to myself, “Snakes are a symbol of transformation, and that’s what is about to happen.” When my friend arrived, we stood and watched while the snake made his way, following his forked tongue, through the fence and out into the wild area beyond.  

A snake is a symbol for healing, and I hoped that was what was about to happen.

The process my friend and I experienced was a lot like a fourth step—telling the whole truth and hearing the whole truth, even though it hurts. The beauty of the process is that once the truth is accepted, relief comes with the tears, like a dam breaking.

That night I slept soundly. The next morning, as I checked my bank balance, I noticed a large amount of money had been deposited in my account. I am one of the people affected by the Social Security Fairness Act, and I had been expecting a deposit for months. But coming, as it did, the morning after I removed a significant emotional blockage seemed miraculous and reminded me of this quotation:

“The moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves, too.” Wm. H. Murray

You write it: Have you had experience with the universe responding to your positive change?

June Is Bustin' Out All Over

Today is June 1, and I woke up with a song on my mind: “June Is Bustin’ Out All Over,” a celebration of the passing of time, with March, April, and May having played their roles and moved on.

Then I thought of these lines from The Rubaiyat of Omar Khyyam:

The moving finger writes; and, having writ,

Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit

Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,

Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.

On this fresh day of a fresh month, may you live happily in each moment and look back with gratitude.

Memorial Day

I never met Uncle Oral, but stories of his bravery were legendary in my family. He died in battle in November of 1944 and is buried with the rest of his family in Ringling, Oklahoma. His was the second grave in the family plot.

Uncle Oral had served as a “China Marine,” stationed in Shanghai, China, a special group whose job was to protect American citizens and property. While he was there, he purchased a carved wooden chest for his mother, my grandmother, and it was one of her most prized possessions. Thanks to my father, it is now one of my most prized possessions.

Oral was gifted with words, and he was a winning boxer. His goal was to learn 10 new words a day, and he was “All Asiatic Boxing Champion” during his time as a China Marine.

On this Memorial Day, I’m thinking of Uncle Oral. I would like to have known him.

You write it: Who are you remembering on this Memorial Day?

Spread Love and Grace

The world has a new pope, Leo XIV. I’m not Catholic, although I appreciate the art and architecture Catholics have created, especially the Basilica in Saint Louis.

As I watched the inauguration of Pope Leo, I ralized that Catholics throughout the world number 1.38 billion—more than the populations of any country except India and China.

Then I wondered how the world might change if all 1.38 billion Catholics focused on spreading love and grace. Then I wondered how much more power might be released if all Christians did the same.

Today I’ll just do my part. I commit to spreading love and grace today. How about you?

Mother's Day

On this Mother’s Day, I’m remembering what my mother taught me about religion and faith. I came home from church one day, disturbed by something my teacher had said. So I asked my mother what she thought. Her response was, “Nancy, you’ll hear a lot of things at church. Some of them might not be true. If what you hear doesn’t sound right, listen to what your heart says and make up your mind for yourself.”

As a result, I’m comfortable in almost any religious setting. What Mother did for me was give me a personal God. Thank you, Mom!

You write it: What was your mother’s most important teaching?

Cinco de Mayo

On May 5, 1862, Mexico won the Battle of Puebla from the French, who outnumbered them. It’s the classic story of David and Goliath. This victory is why we celebrate Cinco de Mayo.

Many of us are feeling overwhelmed. Perhaps the lesson of Cinco de Mayo for us is to stay the course, do what we’re good at, and trust that all—eventually—will be well.

You write it: What do you do when you feel overwhelmed and fear defeat?

Seamless Flow

Some of the time in my life I have felt that I was lurching from event to event, as if each one were self-contained, with a beginning and an end—and I had different identities for different events.

My stepson and daughter-in-law visited recently. Before they came, I promised myself that the visit would be relaxing. I made a few easy dishes in advance but mostly went with the flow.

The experience has felt like tapestry, a woven whole. Holographic, in which the whole contains every part and each part contains the whole. A visit nestled into my life, with no stops and starts. Just part of the flow of my life.

You write it: How have you experienced flow?

Light a Candle

Yesterday was the day in 1775 when two lanterns appeared in the tower of Old North Church in Boston. The ultimate result was America’s liberation from undemocratic rule.

Today, I was struck by the coincidence of timing when reading an article about 50501 (50 states, 50 capitols, one day) gatherings today. The writer suggested that, if we can’t participate, then we might start lighting a candle every day to express support for democracy. That’s something I can do, and I started this morning.

What difference does lighting a candle make? I don’t know. But I do know that it involves transfer and transformation of energy. I also know that energy moves in ways we cannot see or control. My house is emanating energy for democracy and rule of law.

I also believe in the power of hope and of encouraging our leaders who show courage. So as soon as I finish this post, I’m writing a postcard to Chris Van Hollen.

You write it: What are you doing to participate in our current affairs?

Simple Intention

Here’s my simple intention: I go gently through this day.

What’s your intention for today?