Recently I’ve experienced the deaths of a nephew, our dog Feathers, and a brother-in-law, with a granddaughter’s wedding thrown into the mix. As I reflect this morning, here’s what I know: It isn’t education or wealth or fame that matters in the end. It’s love for family and friends through small, daily acts of kindness.
You write it: What do you know for sure?
At my nephew’s memorial service, I heard several young men who had been in treatment with him. Their stories about Austin and their shared experiences revealed deep, trusting relationships that came from speaking the truth in love to each other. This truth-telling had transcended other differences, and young men who might not have even liked each other in the “real world” became forever friends. Among other things, that’s what people in treatment for addiction learn—how to tell the truth about experiences they would rather forget so that together they can walk through the pain, find healing, and come out more whole.
You write it: I find healing from speaking the truth in love in Al-Anon. Where do you find it?
In honor of my recently deceased 37-year-old nephew, Austin, yesterday I watched A River Runs Through it. I chose that movie because Austin loved fly fishing, and I wanted to feel the oneness with nature that he felt on the river. Near the end of the movie was a line that reached into my heart and resonated as true. “We can love completely, without complete understanding.”
Last night “60 Minutes” featured two women who had experienced the power of forgiveness. One had lost her brother because of a drunk driver. The other had been injured for life by a gunman. Both of these women suffered from their own anger and outrage over what had happened to them, so they ultimately sought the help of a program called Restorative Justice. Mediators brought them face to face with the imprisoned perpetrators. In these sessions, they gave their forgiveness and reaffirmed the worth and value of the other person. Healing all around occurred.
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about forgiveness, and another example that has come to mind is the Amish parents of children who were killed in their school. That very evening these parents went to the gunman’s home to express their sympathy and forgiveness to his wife and children, who had also experienced a loss that day.
You write it: What’s your experience with forgiveness? Is there someone you need to forgive?
“There’s nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” Hamlet
“What we see is not what we’re looking at, but what we’re looking with. So let us find our eyes of love.” Twelve-step saying.
When I read the first quotation above, I was still in school. I thought, “That’s right.” When I heard the second quotation, I was in the early stages of Al-Anon recovery, and I began to take action. Knowing something intellectually is not sufficient without the action step.
I’ve recently become aware that there’s more work to be done in finding my eyes of love. How about you?
You write it: Whose behavior is giving you a problem? When you look at it through eyes of love, how important is it?
Recently, as a participant in an angry exchange, I met anger with anger. Although I ultimately accepted the other person’s apology, my system was still full of the chemistry of venom that took days to let go.
Yesterday I witnessed the power of holding one’s peace as an observer when anger erupted. One person attacked. The other remained calm, reaffirmed his love, and exuded peace. The effect on the angry person was that he quickly calmed.
It’s possible. It’s powerful.
You write it: What is your response when anger comes at you?
At a time in my life when I felt forlorn, I received a gift in a daughter’s letter—someone else’s daughter, yet my own. Her simple, eloquent words said, “Thank you for helping me find my way to restore my faith in me.”
Her gift to me was accepting what I had to give.
You write it: When has someone given you the gift of accepting what you offered?
Once I was called in to work with a department that was rife with dissension, and the first thing I did was to interview each employee privately, seeking to understand how each one fit into the dynamic.
One man I interviewed told this story: He grew up in Africa. When he was very young, both of his parents died, and his country had no plan for caring for orphans. So he was on his own. But before he died, his father told him, “Go to school. Get an education.” Feeding and clothing himself from trash, he obeyed his father, never missing a day of school. He said, “I paid close attention when I saw parents with their children. I listened to what the parent said, and then I took the words for myself.” Thus he learned how to behave.
Finally he came to the attention of the authorities when he was about to graduate at the head of his class. Then the government made sure he had a new suit of clothes and a scholarship to a prestigious university in England. Eventually he came to the U.S., and when I met him, he had a wife, children, and good job.
This story always brings me back to the resilience of the human spirit, the power of education, and the utter triviality of most things that trouble us.
You write it: Who is a memorable person in your life? What did they teach you?
Between my friend and me is an invisible stream. We float.
You write it: How does friendship seem to you?
Recently on Facebook I saw an exchange between country music star Toby Keith and legendary actor Clint Eastwood. Eastwood said that the following week, he would begin shooting another movie. With reference to the fact that Eastwood is in his 80’s, Keith asked, “How do you do it?” Eastwood, with his characteristic grin, replied, “When I get up in the morning, I don’t let the old man in.” Subsequently, Eastwood wrote a song with that title that you can google.
Author and concentration camp survivor Viktor Frankl in his book Man’s Search for Meaning wrote that, despite circumstances, we have the ability to decide what we allow into our minds. How we begin our day determines to a great extent the kind of day we will have. We decide what can come in to our consciousness. The good news is that, if we sense that we are going in the wrong direction, we can begin our day over—any time.
All truly is well.
You write it: How did your day begin?
Recently I’ve had the experience of observing two young girls come into an unfamiliar group. At first, they were hesitant and reserved. Then, oh, so gradually, they began to interact with the mostly adults around them. Then I saw smiles as they relaxed into the acceptance and grace they experienced.
As I observed this transformation, I committed anew to being a safe presence for others.
You write it: How do you provide a safe presence for others?
Early this morning my husband and I got up and drove into Sedona for a tax meeting with our accountant. It is a beautiful, sunny morning. We stopped for my favorite breakfast—Egg McMuffin at McDonald’s. A few minutes early, we arrived at the accountant’s office, prepared. All the blanks on the work sheet he had sent in advance were filled in. All the documentation for every category was neatly sorted. We left his office less than ten minutes after we arrived.
I remarked, “That was the easiest tax experience I’ve ever had.” The day seemed even brighter. I simply savored the moment.
You write it: So much of the time, we are thinking about what’s next instead of simply enjoying what is. When is the last time you had an “in the moment” experience?
Still I am learning that my life is one whole, not a string of boxes with different rules. What governs my spiritual life—love, compassion, forgiveness, grace—are powerful in every aspect of living. Let the walls of the boxes come down.
You write it: What are you still learning?
“Let go of what has passed. Let go of what may come. Let go of what is happening now Don’t try to figure anything out. Don’t try to make anything happen. Relax, right now, and rest.” Tilopa
A heavy snowfall has made my world white and still. No coffee meetings. No trips to the grocery store or anywhere else. No “what if” or “maybe.” Just sacred powerlessness as it snows. Peace.
You write it: When have you felt sacred powerlessness?
Amazing Austin artist Ash Almonte donated an embellished print of a hummingbird for an auction to benefit food banks in the Verde Valley of Arizona. A Sedona framer agreed to donate the framing, and while it was in his shop, a woman came in, saw the hummingbird, and burst into tears. She explained to the framer that her mother, who had recently died, promised to return to her in the form of a hummingbird. She wanted to buy the piece.
Our auction team agreed we should offer to sell it to her, but she didn’t take our offer. We were puzzled, but we put it back into the auction collection and hung it on the wall of the church’s fellowship hall along with other auction pieces.
The next morning it was discovered that the hummingbird had fallen from its hook, and the glass had shattered, but the art was not damaged. Now I’ll take it back to the frame shop to have the glass replaced.
I remarked, “This hummingbird is trying to tell us something. I’m listening, but I don’t get it.” Then I realized—sometimes I’m just supposed to listen and wait.
You write it: When has something puzzling happened to you, and the only thing to do was listen and wait?
Richard Rohr is one of my most treasured teachers. This morning I read through some notes I took from a talk he gave in 2017. I wrote, “To be loving has to be chosen almost every hour.”
I realized anew I try to be loving once and for all. It’s good to be reminded that loving is a continual decision.
You write it: What meaning do these words have for you?
My friend’s father received his theology degree late in life, after two careers. He loved to translate the Bible from the language in which it was written. Here is his version of the portion of the Lord’s Prayer that we know as, “Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.”
Untie the tangled threads of destiny that bind and imprison us, as we release others from their mistakes and errors of judgment.
You write it: How would your life be different if you “released others from their mistakes and errors of judgment”?
A few days ago my husband and I went to a performance by Jim Curry, who looks and sounds remarkably like John Denver. The performance included visuals, one of which was an eagle taking flight. That eagle simply spread his wings and allowed the invisible air current to lift him.
In that moment I realized what faith is.
You write it: What is faith to you?
Henry David Thoreau, in Walden, wrote, “I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach.”
A week or so ago, Sixty Minutes’ Leslie Stahl interviewed Marshall Medoff, an 81-year-old man from Massachusetts with no science background who decided he wanted to find “environmentally friendly transportation fuels in a clean and cost-effective way.” To begin his journey, like Thoreau, he went to Walden, immersing himself in nature and solitude. In his words, “What I thought was the reason people were failing [to find fuel solutions] is they were trying to overcome nature instead of working with it.” Long story short, more than a decade after he went to Walden, Medoff has built a company and success in accomplishing his dream.
His journey began with communion with nature, peace in silence, openness to perceive, and faith in a favorable outcome.
You write it: When have you experienced success that began with silence or meditation or immersing yourself in nature?
