Redemption

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As my life has grown increasingly peaceful, an old memory popped up, of a time when I pulled a “bait and switch” scheme on a friend. A double-cross.

Scrolling through Facebook one day, this friend’s image came up. I tracked her down, wrote a note of apology, and asked for her forgiveness.

Yesterday I found her response that she has no recollection of any wrong I did to her. The person I most hurt, you see, was me.

My friend’s kindness flooded over me, and I am free.

You write it: What is your experience with redemption?

Do All the Good You Can

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One of Granddaddy’s favorite sayings, especially when someone was leaving the house, was “Do all the good you can.”

Yesterday we met a young man who grew up in Mexico, moved to Arizona, finished high school, and is now working for a landscaping company to make money to go to college. He’s also an accomplished soccer player.

When he played soccer as a child in Mexico, the team didn’t have soccer cleats. They played in tennis shoes. Those children in his home town, playing soccer today, still don’t have cleats. So he has started an effort to get soccer cleats to those kids. Some of his high school teachers and coaches made donations and then someone went to the newspaper. A major story appeared. People from the community started writing checks. Before long, this young man will have enough soccer cleats to fit the entire program in that little Mexican town.

You write it: What’s an example in your life of someone who did all the good they could?

Monday's Intention

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Our compassion energizes us to do what’s right for ourselves and others.

As I meditated on this intention, the image of a still lake came to me. It was Moraine Lake in Banff National Park, a turquoise glacier-fed body of water surrounded by ten peaks. The lake looks still, but actually a lot is going on, with glacier melt and movement, microscopic changes. Then these words came to me: “Let it unfold.”

Is this intention relevant for you? How?

Rejuvenate

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My intention partners this morning were my children. We each talked about what’s going on in our lives. My son lives in East Texas; my daughter, in Portland, OR. I’m in Sedona, AZ. At a glance, our lives seem very different. But after we shared what’s going on, I realized that each of us, in our own way, were “on the same page.” Here is the intention we agreed on: “We repair, discard, rejuvenate, and continuously renew our lives.”

For me, the rejuvenation is planning a new berm full of lavender. For them, it’s about repairing or getting rid of what no longer serves them.

You write it: Is rejuvenation going on for you? What does it look like?

In the Moment

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Recently my husband and I hiked a portion of the beautiful Bell Rock Pathway. On this trail, nature’s beauty is amazing, all the way from the forest growth to the awe-inspiring presence of Courthouse Butte. At several places along the trail, I almost always stop to appreciate the 360-degree view of several famous formations.

But this morning, I found myself, early in the hike, wondering what I would have for breakfast. In other words, I was not “in the moment.” Instead my mind was racing ahead—and it didn’t stop with breakfast. Next I started prioritizing the small tasks that I planned to complete. In the presence of awesome natural surroundings, I was thinking about daily tasks.

From the personality inventories I’ve taken, I know I tend to be task-oriented, just looking for the next thing to do. The good news is that, this morning, I caught myself and made a decision to be in the moment, appreciating all the beauty around me. A friend calls this “mindfulness,” which I think begins with awareness.

You write it: What do you do when you feel your mind straying from what’s right in front of you?

Harmony

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Last week my friends and I set this intention: “We vibrate with the divine and take harmonious action.” Following 10 minutes of focused meditation, one of my friends shared that during her meditation, her dog nuzzled her. Instead of treating it as an interruption, she put her hand out and drew him into the intention. She took, in other words, harmonious action. Maybe “interruptions” aren’t, really.

You write it: What do you do with “interruptions”?

Burst of Energy

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For days I had been in an emotional slump. Maybe it was the after-Christmas letdown. Maybe it was binge-watching “The Crown.” Maybe it was beating myself up for over-spending. Anyway, I was a bit depressed.

On Sunday morning, I tuned in to the online service my church does during Covid. The music—-the prayers—the thoughtful sermon—lifted my spirits. I think it was mostly the prayers. Or maybe it was the spotted towhee who perched in the tree just outside my window, showing off his gorgeous rufous sides.

Straightaway and inexplicably, I took my burst of energy to a family heirloom—an ornately carved wooden box my uncle brought from China during his stint as a “China Marine” just before World War II. Fearlessly, I took a damp toothbrush to that precious, dust-encrusted box. It has come alive again in a rich, golden brown.

You write it: What re-energizes you?

Blank Slate

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Yesterday I finished the final task of a project that has consumed me for two years. In the next month and a half, I’ll finish another major responsibility.

I’m looking at a blank slate.

Grandma Moses started painting at the age of 78, after her sister-in-law suggested it. She painted 1500 works of art before she died at the age of 101.

I’ve been told I am “gifted with words,” so my new focus is writing. I wonder what I’ll create?

You write it: When have you had a blank slate? What did you do with it?

Christmas Is Here

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This year Christmas is a season, rather than an event. The day after Thanksgiving, our decorations began to go up, gradually, filling our home with happy memories of joyful, peaceful times. Something special has happened each day: a hike, making divinity, wrapping a gift; but it was a gentle process that prevailed. Nothing was forced or given exhausting importance.

No one is coming this Christmas. But Christmas is here.

A Christmas Story

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When my daughter was 16 months old, just before Christmas, she contracted spinal meningitis. A vigilant nurse realized she had been misdiagnosed with pneumonia and called the doctor back to the hospital ASAP. Her action led the doctor to say, "I think we caught the meningitis early enough that there won't be any permanent damage--if she lives."

For 10 long days Anne Marie lay lifeless in an oxygen tent with tubes keeping her fed and medicated. Then, on Christmas Eve, the doctor came in, unhooked all the tubes, and removed the tent. I picked her up and held her close.

The nurse saw the panic on my face when Anne Marie couldn't hold her head up. Reassuringly, she said, "Don't worry. These little ones recover quickly." By the end of the day, my precious daughter was running down the hospital hallway.

That night, I slept more soundly than I had slept for many days, lying in a hospital bed beside my healthy daughter. Sometime during the night, someone crept in and left a flannel stocking filled with small toys.

Every year I hang a red flannel stocking and give thanks for the doctor and nurses who saved my daughter's life. I pray for the hospitals, doctors, and nurses who are saving others' loved ones right now.

You write it: What is your story of an exceptional Christmas gift?

Gift for the Heart

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My brother is a late sleeper. Recently I visited him in his new home, a 7-hour drive from Sedona. We had a wonderful time. Days later, when I was ready to return home, I planned to leave early in the morning. The night before, I said, “Don’t bother to get up. I can let myself out.”

The next morning, when I arose, I saw him through the patio doors, sitting outside in the dark. That sight touched my heart. In spite of his aversion to morning, he was there for me.

In this season of gift-giving, it’s good to reflect on the gifts for our hearts.

You write it: When has someone given your heart a gift?

Divinity

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To be present, in a way, at my brother/sister/niece’s Thanksgiving, I decided to make a batch of divinity and mail it to them to enjoy during the visit. When my husband heard my plans, he insisted I make two batches, one for him.

So, on a recent morning, I began. The first batch, try as I might, would not harden. Finally, after beating and beating and beating, I gave up and poured it in a buttered Pyrex pan. I set the pan aside and then began the second batch, thinking Harlan would just have to eat his candy with a spoon.

The second batch turned out well, hardened easily. I packed it, addressed the package, and took it to the Post Office. Only after I returned, did I muster the courage to check on the first batch. Unbelievably, it felt firm to my touch. Then I sliced it into cubes of delicious divinity. No spoons required.

Why am I telling you this? Because every now and then something happens to bring home the truth that when I stop beating, let go, and let God, miracles happen.

You write it: When do miracles happen for you?

Being Fully Present

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Yesterday, I was struck by the presence of Tiger Woods in the Masters award presentation to a new champion. He was fully attentive to everyone’s comments. He accepted praise from the amateur champion with silent grace. He seemed genuinely pleased to award the green jacket to his successor.

So often, when I am with others, my mind is wandering. I’m thinking of something else or what I will say next or glancing at my phone.

Yesterday I saw what being fully present—simply being in the moment—looks like. I like it. I’m setting it as a goal.

You write it: With others, how fully present are you?

Gratitude

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Quite a few years ago, when my life was in upheaval, I learned the simple practice of gratitude. Although I had two healthy, successful children, a good job, and many advantages, I did not know how to be truly grateful. So I decided to practice. I realized my first progress when I looked at the gas gauge in my car and felt true gratitude, from my heart, that I could afford gasoline.

Since that moment, I start most days with a gratitude list. It changes my perspective and gives me a good day, no matter what.

Today I am grateful that a record number of Americans voted. I’m also grateful for a beautiful sunrise.

You write it: What’s your experience with gratitude?

Dutch Babies

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One of our favorite breakfast dishes is Dutch babies, flat pancakes served with toasted almonds, berries, and a heap of powdered sugar on top. I add a couple of slices of bacon on the side.

Since the pandemic, we have invited friends, one couple at a time, for breakfast on our back patio, which has a splendid view of the red rocks of Sedona.

Most of the time, the friends we invite have stayed all morning, just visiting and enjoying the fresh air. We have come to treasure these simple times.

During the pandemic, are there any simple times you have come to treasure?

Narrowing? Or Expanding?

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Sometimes I think of discipline as narrowing—getting back between the lines, so to speak. I associate the word with constricting.

But in a meditation with friends, this concept completely changed. I had a dream about a house where I was staying. My room was in the front of the house. When I decided to explore, I found room after room after room. This house was huge! Every room was furnished, but not with more than was needed.

In the meditation, which we worded as “We discard toxicity and choose what is good, truthful, and pure,” what came to me was this scripture: “In my father’s house are many mansions.”

Now I think of discipline as expanding. How do you think of discipline?

Burst of Energy

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On this crisp fall morning, after my meditation, I decided to put on some Broadway music and glide through the kitchen. By the time I finished, I had made split pea soup in the slow cooker, six sausage biscuits for my husband, and put two loaves of pumpkin bread, gluten-free, in the oven.

All this was interspersed with cleaning the refrigerator, stove-top, appliances, and counters, as well as unloading the dishwasher, emptying the trash, and changing the sheets on the bed.

When I looked at the clock, it was only 10:00.

This burst of energy was so much fun. Where it came from—the weather, my diet, the music, my meditation with friends, God—I don’t know. I do know that I am grateful.

You write it: Have you had a burst of energy lately?