Forgiveness, Revisited

Yesterday I participated in a group whose topic was forgiveness. Two of us honestly shared the resentment we feel because amends have not been made in the way we would like. Thus, the slate is not wiped clean.

But years ago I read, “Forgiveness occurs when you systematically lay aside conclusions you have reached about other people and the motivations for their actions.”

In other words, forgiveness is reclaiming my freedom of choice. I choose not to be stuck to another person’s actions.

Forgiveness is so much easier when someone makes heartfelt amends, and we want the easy way. Yet, even without amends, forgiveness is our choice. It’s an inside job.

You write it: What is your experience with forgiveness?

Kindness and Respect

Instead of a resolution for 2020, I have simply made a commitment to kindness and respect. To be sure I knew what I was committing to, I looked up both words.

Kindness comes from the heart. It requires empathy and giving love and consideration to others.

Respect is due regard for the feelings, wishes, rights, or traditions of others.

Giving kindness and respect doesn’t take anything away from me. It doesn’t mean being a doormat. Rather, it encourages my heart. So the gift gives both ways. What I give to others comes back to me.

What experience have you had with a two-way gift?

My Wish for 2020

Recently someone suggested I read a book entitled Focusing by Eugene Gendlin. It’s a deeper version of what I used to call “speak the truth in love.” It describes in detail a process that honors oneself, as well as others, in getting to what is true for each of them.

In 1919 I experienced how cruel and destructive language and emotion can be.

In 2020, may we each and all experience the healing power of truth spoken in love.

You write it: What is your wish for 2020?

Waiting

We are in the season of waiting—waiting for the fulfillment of a promise. Waiting. There’s a stillness in waiting. Stillness. There’s a peace in waiting because there is simply nothing to do. Peace.

“But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run and not be weary; and they shall walk and not faint.” Isaiah

You write it: This season I’m finding strength in waiting. What is giving you strength?

Tiny Gifts

This Christmas my heart is being filled with the joy of giving tiny gifts: a tea bag holder I made in pottery class and wrapped in cellophane with 3-4 bags of special tea, a few pieces of homemade divinity wrapped in plastic and tied with a small bow.

This Christmas, what is bringing you joy?

Another Pass at Letting Go

Daily I’ve been reading from the Tao Te Ching by Stephen Mitchell. I keep coming back to these lines: “If you want to shrink something, you must first allow it to expand. If you want to get rid of something, you must first allow it to flourish.”

In Al-Anon, I’ve learned the slogan, “Let go and let God.”

In the Bible, I read, “Be still and know that I am God.”

But reading this new language to express the same powerful truth has deepened it within me.

In this season of so many expectations, may you let them go and experience perfect peace. All truly is well.

A Channel for Grace

Lately images of gold have been coming to me, first in the words my friend Ash Almonte assigned to a figurative painting of a woman: “But these are the days we dream about, when the sunlight paints us gold.” Thus my interest in gold was piqued, and I learned that gold is one of the least reactive chemical elements—that it is soft, malleable, and pliable. It’s found in nuggets, in rocks, in veins, in river deposits.

To me, gold is like grace—the influence or spirit of God operating in humans. My prayer today is to make me a channel for grace.

What is your prayer for today?

Miracle at Moraine Lake

Last August I traveled to Canada with my daughter, Anne Marie, and daughter-in-law Scotti. We saw the Northern Lights in Yellowknife and then made our way to Banff, which included a tour of Lake Louise and finally to Moraine Lake, a turquoise, glacier-fed, quiet body of water.

My daughter hiked to the very top of a tall pile of rocks to view the lake from a higher perspective. My daughter-in-law went to look for the gift shop. I simply stood and meditated on the stillness and quiet.

Three different responses, all good. The miracle at Moraine Lake was my clarity to let people be who they are and do what they do. There’s something for everyone, and it’s all good.

When have you experienced this level of acceptance?

How the Light Gets In

I had placed my trust in something that failed. I was devastated and heart broken, so I asked for help.

Help came in kind, wise words—through art created by Ash Almonte—through one of Richard Rohr’s daily meditations that mentioned the Japanese art form that repairs cracks in ceramics with gold. I followed every lead, opening my heart for truth and love in every message. The process led me to this scripture: “Where sin increased, grace abounded all the more.” It also led me to these words by Leonard Cohen:

Ring the bells that still can ring. Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack in everything. That’s how the light gets in.

You write it: What do you do when you’re heartbroken?

Props and Daily Reminders

This quotation from In Love with the World by Yongey ingyur Rinpoche jumped out at me: “Monastic robes help shelter the mind from straying into wrong views or incorrect behavior. They offer a constant reminder to stay here, stay aware.”

Years ago, when I was making some life changes, someone gave me a James Avery gift certificate. With it I bought a small gold bracelet in a twist design—my favorite. Every day since, when I put it on, I say to myself, “Let go and let God.” It’s a daily reminder.

Do you have any props to remind you to be the person you want to be?

Travel Musings

A recent road trip took us through miles and miles of trees in full fall color and pastures with grazing cows with many newborn calves. We saw hundreds of bales of hay, stacked and stored in anticipation of winter, barns filled to overflowing.

I wondered how long it takes the people who stacked those bales to get to the grocery store—and how often they go.

These are my autumn musings. What are yours?

Who Do You Want to Learn From?

My 95-year-old friend has a sparkle in her eyes and always a smile. Yesterday another friend asked her, “What is your secret for your long life?” She responded, “I just watch life go by, [and I don’t let anything upset me.]”

This amazing woman has not been idle. She was a chemist by profession. She was a state leader of a nonprofit to benefit women’s education. She is a mother.

The state of mind she was describing was not apathy; it was equanimity.

I want to learn all that I can from her.

You write it: Who do you want to learn from? What do you want to learn?

Who Do I Want to Be?

Recently a young woman in an Al-Anon meeting shared that her mother, in a phone call, had attacked her with expletives. She said, “The last time this happened, I didn’t speak to her for 15 years. But this time I decided to do it differently. I thought to myself, ‘Regardless of her behavior, who do I want to be?’”

It’s easy to react to someone else’s unacceptable behavior, but the higher road is being who we truly want to be, no matter what.

You write it: Who is it that you truly want to be, no matter what?

Unlearning

As I’ve aged, I realize that what I once accepted as “iron-clad rules” might not be so. A house, for example, does not need thorough cleaning every week. The sign of a spider web might mean a tiny spider has been busy for the last few minutes. It is not a symbol of filth.

In a different realm, I’ve learned that I don’t have to respond to everything I disagree with or don’t like. I can choose to be silent.

Our visiting minister yesterday said, without being specific, that in retirement he is unlearning previously held beliefs.

You write it: What are you unlearning?

Staying in Touch

Today I had some time on my hands as I waited for the refrigerator repairman. I wasn’t in the mood to read, so instead I called two of my cousins. Close cousins. Cousins I don’t want to lose touch with, even though I haven’t spoken with them in months. Both of them answered, and I felt my heart steadily lift as I learned what is happening in their lives, simply sharing news.

Nothing earth-shaking. Just two phone calls. Ordinary conversations. Staying in touch.

You write it: Is there a call you would like to make?

Adjusting Expectations

Much of our unhappiness or disappointment is caused by having expectations. I’ve spent the last 8 months planning a trip to Yellowknife and Banff, Canada, with my daughter and daughter-in-law. The original reason for going was to see the aurora borealis, and our information was that our chances were 97% this time of year. This morning I checked the forecast—make that a 40% chance.

Momentarily, I was disappointed. But then, I realized no one knows for sure when these magical lights will appear. Besides, I will be in new surroundings with two people I love, seeing beauty and experiencing wonder. What could be better than that?

You write it: What is your experience with expectations?

You Can't Make a Mistake

I was sanding a bowl I had made in my pottery class, preparing it to be bisqued. A chunk of the side came off in my hand, and I was heading towards the trash with it when the instructor stopped me. “What are you doing with that?”

“I’m throwing it away,” I responded. “I broke it.”

“No, no,” he said. “That opening is a perfect big spoon rest for when you’re cooking. See? The handle goes right here,” and he pointed to the hole I had made. “In here there are no mistakes.”

You write it: What would you do if you knew you couldn’t make a mistake?

What's Inside My Hula Hoop?

A good question for me to ask, when I feel despair and consternation over events over which I have no control, is “What’s inside my hula hoop?” That question returns my focus and keeps me away from that which is beyond me.

Today I’m learning to work wooden jigsaw puzzles. Not the easy cardboard kind. Wooden puzzles, made by Liberty Puzzles in Boulder, Colorado. Puzzles that can’t be worked by setting the border first. Puzzles that have whimsey pieces that go together in unusual ways. Puzzles that challenge my brain not to follow the same, timeworn route, but to imagine new possibilities.

You write it: What are you doing that helps you imagine new possibilities?

The World I Choose to Live In

Recently my across-the-fence neighbor gave us a half bushel of lemons from a tree in her Phoenix backyard. Later, my around-the-corner neighbor brought a batch of delicious apricots. Then my down-the-street neighbor asked us to pick all the blackberries we wanted. It was enough for two cobblers.

At the last baseball game I attended, a young man in front of me caught a ball. Then he turned around and tossed it to a handicapped teen sitting two rows behind him.

In my world, love and neighborliness abound.

Where have you seen love and neighborliness in your world?

Ask Someone

My granddaughter and I had just left the 9/11 Memorial in New York City, and it was lunchtime. I turned to her saying, “I have no idea how to find a restaurant.” She was undaunted. “Ask someone, Nana,” she said. So I did, and we had one of the best meals of our trip.

You write it: Is there something that has you stymied today? Who will you ask?