All In

I’m “all in” with meditation. Although I’ve been meditating for years, I usually spend only 20 minutes in silent meditation. That’s enough to calm my mind, even enough for me to experience some revelations.

But yesterday I decided to stick with a guided meditation, that I had purchased several months ago, all the way to the end—about an hour. Not only did I have a profound experience, but for the rest of the day I felt really strong and hopeful. I had energy to work in the yard, complete some tasks that I had put off, and even go to a late afternoon concert.

So I’m interested—what is your experience with meditation?

Answer to Prayer

Yesterday I had the unpleasant experience of being greeted in an unexpected, insulting way. The other individual thought he was being funny. But instead of “Good morning,” I got a crude, sexist story. Fortunately, another friend noticed my predicament and rescued me. But I was left with a “bad taste in my mouth,” another word for a resentment. I just couldn’t get it out of my mind.

This morning in the Serenity Meditation (which I lead every Monday morning at Village Yoga), I asked God to guide me to the passage I needed. My fingers turned to Chapter 3 of Simple Serenity, entitled “Understanding: Gateway to Acceptance.” In the first paragraphs, I tell the story of difficulty I experienced with a person, until I understood what was driving his words and actions. Then, “full realization came that he is acting in accordance with who he is and what he struggles with, neither of which have anything to do with me. In other words, it’s not my fault, and nothing I can say or do will change him.”

With those words, I let go of my resentment. And I give thanks for good friends who see my distress and come to my rescue.

What do you do with resentment?

Being with You

Sometimes, when we leave someone’s company, we say, “I enjoyed being with you.” We toss it off, lightly. What if our authenticity were so complete that we actually mean, “I enjoyed BEING with you”?

That’s what I strive for—spontaneity, truthfulness, being present, being-ness—so that I can say, with each parting, “I enjoyed BEING with you.”

You write or draw it: “Being”—what is that, to you?

Birthday Week

This week I will launch my 80th year. I am focused on gliding through the week, uplifted by the love and good wishes of family and friends.

That’s a good intention for anyone, don’t you think?

When the Soul Is Calm

When the soul is calm,

Words evaporate.

Mind stills.

Heart steadies.

Peace prevails,

When the soul is calm.

Memorial

Those we remember today

Were here.

They lived, they ate,

They breathed, they loved.

And we loved them,

In the flesh.

Now we love them

In the spirit.

They are very much

At peace.

Tapestry

Equanimity is not the same thing as numbness. Rather, it’s taking the stance of an observer who, with compassion, sees and feels all of life without succumbing to despair or euphoria, allowing what is to weave life like a tapestry.

TODAY,

A beloved wife, mother and teacher died.

A friend entered the manic phase of her disorder.

Roses bloomed.

A puppy learned to follow a lead.

A much-loved daughter arrived for a visit.

A beloved daughter called.

A young deer ate the lower blooms of the pink yucca.

Rats in the attic delayed a trip.

The white dog sleeps in, under covers.

Least Effort for Best Results

Last week’s blog about Colt reminded me of an incident that occurred during a leadership retreat I led several years ago. My friend, Lindy Segall, assisted me by taking retreat participants into a “round pen” with a horse. As each participant came forward for his/her time with the horse, Lindy coached them on what to ask the horse to do and how to get the results they wanted.

One man, the president of an engineering company, had difficulty. “Ask the horse to come to you,” Lindy said. The man said, “Come here.” The horse just stood there. Lindy said, “Try again.” This time louder, the man said, “Come here!!!!” Still, the horse just stood there. In fact, he backed away. Point made. I don’t think this guy was ever successful with the horse.

But there was a young lady up next. Lindy’s instructions were the same. “Ask the horse to come to you.” She said nothing. She held out her hand. The horse came to her. She had tears in her eyes. So did we.

You write it: How did you learn that sometimes the least effort yields the best results?

A Lesson from Colt

Colt is my one and one-half year-old Bichon. This morning I let him out to do his thing in my fenced back yard. After ten minutes, he had done nothing. Figuring he needed more time, I went back into the house because I had to get dressed for Serenity Meditation, which occurs every Monday morning. Colt followed me back in and, when my back was turned, pooped in my closet.

Furious, I was. I screamed at him, put him in the crate, and didn’t speak to him when I left.

When I checked online to see why he might have this behavior, I learned two things: (1) He might have had a digestion problem. (2) There might be something outside he’s afraid of (like coyotes).

Even though our yard is fenced, twice a coyote has come right up to the fence. He is understandably frightened. In fact, sometimes he stands just outside the door, puts his nose in the air to smell, and then turns around to go right back into the house. I get it.

AND he did have digestion problems from eating the whole bag of cooked chicken I had put out to thaw for my lunch yesterday! He jumped up as high as the counter until he could reach it to knock it on the floor.

I’ve been told I need to send him away for a month and pay $2,000 for him to be trained. I think I need to remember he is not human. (I also need to remember not to put food too near the edge of the counter!) Together, we can work this out—if I stay out of anger and unreasonable expectations.

You write or draw it: Is there anything going on with you in which your expectations may be unreasonable?

Fresh Morning

Fresh morning, full of possibility.

My invisible windshield wipers

Disappear yesterday’s worries.

I embrace the wonder of a new day.

Energy of Prayer

The words we choose for prayer make a difference. “God help me” is weaker than “God, do this for me.” Do you see why? The former is exhausting. The latter is liberating. Words make a difference.

You write or draw it: What is your experience with words making a difference in prayer?

Red Carpet

My stepson, daughter-in-law, and I made a trip to Nicholls State University in Thibodaux, Louisiana, Harlan’s alma mater. Our purpose was to give them letters he wrote to his parents in Saint Charles, Missouri, during his freshman year.

“Red carpet treatment” is what we experienced. People my husband knew gathered to share stories about Harlan, deepening our knowledge of what college was like for him. We had a personal tour of the campus, including the gym where he played, the business building, and the library—the triangle of his college world.

I came away with the warm feeling that in this place Harlan was welcomed and nurtured, as were we.

You write it: When have you had red carpet treatment? How did you feel?

What Will It Be?

I have come to the end of the list—lists, actually—that I made when my husband died.

Wrapping up his affairs and beginning life without him. Sorrow mixed with gratitude.

I have come to the end of my lists—as he did—ready for a new beginning.

I wonder what it will be.

Peonies

Mother had a peony bush in her back yard and would always gather a bouquet for the house when I was visiting in the springtime. I thought it was the most beautiful flower I had ever seen. Still do.

A few years after I moved to Sedona, I began to wonder if peonies would grow here. Then I was invited to dinner at a friend’s home. She had several peonies in her flower beds!

I ordered one bulb, planted it in the fall, and waited. To my amazement, it came up in the spring and had one pink bloom. “Lucky me,” I thought.

Then I cleared a space in the back yard and ordered six peony bulbs. I planted them last fall. As the snow melted and spring suggested it might arrive, I kept checking that bed. I worried that it had gotten too much water during the winter and the bulbs might have rotted. Then I spotted the first shoots. Long story short, all six peonies in that bed are coming up.

What is the moral of this story? Maybe if you want it, go for it. Maybe have faith. Maybe take risks.

You write it: What is the moral of this story for you?

Grief

Today is a beautiful day. Sunny. Not a cloud in the sky. Brisk but undeniably early spring.

In my home, spring cleaning is underway. Today is the day for the window washers. Carpet cleaners come next week. Last week was deep cleaning the house.

It is almost six months since my husband died. In that time I’ve learned that gratitude is mightier than grief, and most of my time has been spent being grateful for our marriage and the experiences we shared.

But today I’m just sad. Sad that he’s not here to enjoy the beautiful day, clean windows and refreshed house, the new fence and improved outdoor grill area.

I know this sadness won’t last. But instead of brushing it away or overpowering it, I’m just going to let it be. For today.

You write or draw it: What do you want to let be—just for today?

Back to Basics

Cooking and writing. That’s what I’m up to these days.

Saturday morning two friends came for German pancakes. Saturday evening a few neighbors came for rouladen and German potato salad that I had made well in advance so that there was no fuss and no worry.

As for the writing, I allow it to “well up” within me. When it’s ready, I sit down and flow the words out of my fingers onto the keyboard.

Simplicity. Clarity. Fulfillment. Release.

You write it: What are you up to these days?

Right for Me

My mother used to say, “Just because it’s right for someone else doesn’t make it right for you.” Her words get more true as I age.

My friends move hurriedly from one meeting to the next. Not right for me.

My neighbor lets her puppy outside the fence without a leash. Not right for me.

The list could go on and on, but you get the point.

What works for me is setting an intention for how I want to live each day and then following my heart.

You write or draw it: How do you know what’s right for you?

New Beginning

From my bout with Covid, I have emerged strong and five pounds lighter. I’m making a new beginning.

To celebrate, I freshened my bedding: washed the mattress pad, replaced the feather pillows and the comforter, washed the coverlet and decorative pillow covers, and added an adorable throw pillow just the right shade of blue.

I’ve been singing, to the tune from South Pacific, “I’m gonna wash that Covid right out of my hair.” And I did.

That’s how I make a new beginning.

You write or draw it: How do you make a new beginning?

Covid

I tested positive for Covid on Sunday. After a restless night, I impatiently waited for 8:00 a.m. so I could call my medical provider. I got voicemail.

More than two hours went by, and my anxiety flew sky high. This is the first time I’ve had an illness since Harlan died. I had no nurse; no advocate. My worst imaginings took over. Finally, I called a different provider, minutes before my return call came.

Before noon, I had a hot meal at my door from a friend, and I had meds picked up by another friend. My anxiety lowered.

The Al-Anon program teaches that when I am “Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired,” I should HALT. Instead, this morning I panicked.

But that moment is past. This afternoon the sun is shining, I know I will be well soon, and I am so grateful to be supported by loving friends.

Wildflowers

Yesterday I spread yellow wildflower seeds, a gift from a neighbor who harvested the seeds from her plants. Then I put up two signs: “Wildflowers growing. Do not enter. Thank you.”

Early in the pandemic, I spread wildflower seeds, a mixture, beside my office window. The blues, reds, whites, yellows, golds lift my spirits when they bloom. But right now they are mostly brown, so today I prune and pull to make room for the color that awaits.

A time for planting. A time for pruning. All for the same end—beauty that lifts my spirit.

You write it: What are you doing to lift your spirit?