I woke up this morning thinking…okay…it’s Friday whew. With my first cup of coffee I contemplated why the Friday relief seemed to mean something to me…I am a retired woman with virtually stress free days. By the second cup of coffee, my subconscious apparently had the time to answer the question…I’m still running on rules and schedules that I either adopted, inherited or expected of myself for 65 years prior to today….and
The big and….if I don’t make the choice to change that thinking, I will live out my life thinking…ahhh Monday a new start (what can go wrong) until Friday (whew glad that nightmare is over).
From the inner work I’ve been doing, I know that just realizing the error of my ways and deciding it’s time for change does not mean that Monday I will wake up “healed”not even realizing it is Monday while experiencing the day only each moment in its moment. Chances are without practicing this “in the moment consciousness”, I’m likely to be controlled by the future… in an hour, tonight, next Tuesday…and the past…can’t do that remember what happened last time! It takes practice to bring myself back to the present each time I recognize I’ve stepped back on the craziness treadmill!
Then I read the daily word. Dailyword.com
The second paragraph got me!
Divine order holds everything together, even that which appears chaotic or without reason. I may not be able to see the entire picture, but I TRUST THE STRUCTURE THAT UNDERGIRDS ALL LIFE. When I behold this symmetry in my life and in the world, I feel the comfort and security in divine order.
The whole “chore” of washing sheets (it’s not like I had to use a washboard in the stream) and remaking the bed became a mindful experience for me. Instead of focusing on the facts associated with this chore, I was shockingly finished and walking out of the room without thinking “why am I the only one who knows how to wash sheets in this house”. This takes nothing away from all of the things He does on a daily basis…it’s merely an historical triggered reaction.
Right after I rejected the common habit of yelling down and asking him to help me so I don’t have to walk around the bed myself 4 times, I recognized that this was another facet of the poor-me trigger I had learned so well. The good news is while putting the pillow cases on, I realized that I really did have a valid reason for not making my bed everyday because seriously, how does the bed go about breathing and airing out when covered with sheets, blankets and comforter all day. You are welcome…you may use it!
As I was walking around the bed on an unexpected trip (making it 6 times) to measure the distance of the top sheet to the bottom of the mattress on each side, I realized that every time we make the bed together, he gives me a reading of the sheet level to the mattress on his side…and, of course, this irritates me. Because it is an historical triggered reaction to those times when we slept in a small bed with smaller sheets and every time someone turned over, it could mean one person lost the sheet. As the victim in my own story, it was always me!
So, I share this insight as encouragement for bed makers out there to use the experience as a calming, counseling session with yourself. Finding gratitude in the mundane daily activities….even making the bed…..CAN be a spiritually enlightening experience……
I had a blessed visit this morning with my dad…..it manifested with steepled fingers. Elbows on the arms of the chair with all 5 hand digits touching each other only connecting at the finger pads. It’s one of those memories of seeing my dad sitting in his recliner with his head back with his hands touching in the steepled finger position. The very last time I saw my dad was from the door of his hospital room shortly before his transition, laying in bed with fingers in the steepled position occasionally moving his hands as if having a conversation with someone I could not see.
This morning during the Daily Word and meditation portion of our Unity Service with my eyes closed I felt tears beginning to trickle from the outer corners of my closed eyes and my attention was drawn to the fact that my elbows were resting on the arms of the chair and my 5 finger pads on each hand were touching in a steeple position and I knew that my dad was close by. I wondered why the visit!
The energy of my dad visits often when I am open to his guidance or I am in a moment when I recognize I’m feeling lost or lonely and need some love. It’s not that I actually reach out or seek his connection, it’s that he just appears in my vulnerable heart. I am learning to allow the embrace, allow the connection, recognizing that his presence is here with me always and most importantly understanding that his presence is as real as if he were looking at me across the room from his recliner in his physical form.
I don’t like where I live right now. For the most part I didn’t like where I lived before I moved here. There is an important unveiling happening in my soul as I put together this information this morning.
On a trip back to old home last week I was healed. There was comfort. I went to a concert in a beautiful outdoor setting beside a cornfield in Iowa. The venue is a local winery. The local cover band, Slipstream (that we have been following for many years) ALWAYS raises my spirits…with a mixture of their talent, the music they play and the energy they offer their audience to soak in. This time was especially perfect because I was surrounded by 3 of the 4 girlfriends who have been the love and emotional “tag team” in my life.
Returning to the place I now call home was kind of a downer…well, and a mild hangover from wine and pure joy. After a good night of sleep I woke this morning with a neon light flashing…ok…I get it….
It’s not the place I store my stuff, buy my groceries and pay my utility bills that is the real me. It is all in my heart where I feel my pain/dissatisfaction or love and joy…it’s the place in my soul where I release my expectations and irritations. It’s in me, it surrounds me, it is me just being. It’s not “adopting” the hatred, meanness and dysfunction. It’s recognizing what I don’t want to own and allow it to pass through…it’s all up to me to keep an open heart and release those fears and expectations of my personality which I have learned so well in 6 decades. I am here, I am free, I am.
While standing in the spray paint aisle today, I heard the old man coming before I saw him. Significantly overweight, puffing out with each breath, perspiring and a two pack a day deep cough and of course, no mask. My irritation was well learned and the thought I had was 1] that had better not be a COVID cough you old expletive and 2) do you have any idea how close to death you sound. I make no excuses for my thoughts. They were my thoughts and I own them.
As he moved to the checkout, he immediately started huffing and bitching about the cost of whatever he was buying and then the famous words…Thanks, Biden.
As I moved closer to the checkout counter with my paint, he started berating the polite and clean cut (my opinion) teenage male because he didn’t like the size of plastic bag he was being offered. The conversation proceeded with this story’s hero offering the old man a much smaller bag to which he chose to aggressively shake the now-filled bag around and telling the young hero that he could get even more items in this small bag….SEEEE!
As the old “duffer” exited the store, I approached the counter with my two cans of paint and dishwashing brush and politely told the hero that it wasn’t important to me which bag he chose and then I shook my head signaling I thought the previous customer’s picture was in the dictionary beside asshole.
The sweet hero in this story grinned at me…and said it’s ok. He was having a bad day….we didn’t have what he was looking for when he first came in!
The comment speaks for itself. I chose not to say anything else to the young, kind clerk. He knows who he is and I am honored we crossed paths today!
This is really a dear diary entry in order to document the moment. Similar to stopping to log in the notes section of my phone when I have those synchronicities in life that assure me that I am on the right path….the path of recognizing I am one with all in the universe.
I am on my 4th year of study in the new thought movement. I’m actually in my approximately 58th year of “do it yourself” study. Knowing that life is not what other people say it is *cough MOTHER *cough SOCIETY *cough ORGANIZED RELIGION
I woke up having a very bold panic attack last night. Someone very close to me and very important to me was trying to kill me. I jumped out of bed and found myself sitting in the bathroom with the lights on seriously trying to rationalize if this was really happening.
My conclusion. No one outside of myself is trying to kill me. But the beautiful part of the story is, my small self…my ego self…the insecurities, the history that I used to base all of my thoughts and behaviors on, the history that I’ve always incorporated in making decisions….the holding myself back in future choices because I’m reliving past choices…is dying off. I’m recognizing that the stories and lessons told to me by my mother, my father, my preacher and my teacher are their stories that I have accepted as truth. I’m understanding they are not my truth.
This is my understanding, this is my knowing. I am grateful for experiencing last nights panic attack….it was the experience I needed assuring me that all is well…I am on the right path…I am finding my one with the universe…source…whatever word I choose to find myself and live my best life!
I was just telling the girls about what a hard worker you were! I told the story about you wanting to firm up the back yard in our first home in the late 50’s by hauling broken up concrete from a parking lot being torn up near our house…all of it in the trunk of your ‘49 Ford. Back and forth…then built up the wall so the back yard would quit flowing down the hill when it rained.
You worked a job you didn’t love for 33 years because you needed to take care of your family.
You were so very artistic and talented and I’m so honored to have your creations to remember you by.
You loved me and were always my silent protector. You loved your granddaughters with the same fervor.
Many times I know you forced yourself out of your introverted personality to be present in social situations.
And my biggest regret is that I feel I did not give you the love and honor you deserved because I could not bring myself to visit you next door because of your wife, my mother. My biggest regret in life is that I didn’t make more of an effort to find a way to just “be” with you and ignore her. But our last moments together in the hospital room when you were still alive and I massaged lotion on your forehead and the top of your head and you closed your eyes. I knew you felt it. My love!
Your energy is with me every day, Daddy! Our energy. Our love!
I often find myself feeling unnecessarily concerned with people and what I consider sacred nature. As an example, I’m often very irritated when I notice someone on the trail that runs behind our house not respecting the geese. Actually many times I just sit and wait and smile because I’ve seen a mad goose in action.
A couple days ago while trail walking, I was suspiciously eyeing a guy and a small child in the distance pushing something against a tree up ahead. As I got closer he was moving away from the tree with a camera in his hand. As I approached, he told me there were baby raccoons in a hole in the dead tree that he and his son had been checking on and photographing every day. I felt contagious joy and connection to this man and his smiling little boy.
So today as I approached the tree, I looked into the dark hole and saw nothing so I stuck my phone into the hole and started snapping pictures.
It wasn’t until I got home out of the sunlight that I was able to see what the eye of my phone captured. #gratitude #nature
I challenge you to take a moment right now to list every nurse you have encountered in your life…whether personally or professionally. I’m confident the majority of people do not have a sufficiently detailed memory or a sheet of paper long enough to document the associations!
I hold nurses in my heart with esteem and gratitude …. especially during the pandemic. I see nurses as the angels who are carrying the sick and the families of the sick down this road to recovery.
Being a nurse means you carry immense responsibility and very little authority. You step into peoples lives and make a difference. Some bless you, others curse you. Nurses see people at their worst and their best. Nurses see life begin and lives end. They see humanity’s capacity for love, courage and endurance.
I wasn’t quite sure how to start this one out…perhaps something like this: During an afternoon Zoom chat group, the topic of lists came up and I said quite innocently that I don’t make lists. The group got very quiet…one person shyly spoke up and said, “you are truly living life on the edge!”
That’s not how it played out but my blog, my story!
The thing about lists. Pretty much every person I know has a system of lists. The lists left on the counter and checked off with the task completed. The list that is made and never looked at again. The grocery list. The getting ready for a trip list. My question to you list makers is….what happens when you depend solely on the list. A list takes fear away about forgetting something…something you need, something you have to do. Check…its on the list.
So what happens when you depend on that list and no longer use just your memory….what happens if you don’t write undergarments on the list before a big trip. You mark everything off the list and must vacation commando? What happens if you don’t write toilet paper on the list and end up not thinking about the need for toilet paper while at the store because it wasn’t on the list?
I look at those list makers in my inner circle and I just shake my head at the risks they are taking.
I, obviously, am quite confident and secure with the fact that there is no evidence left to betray my memory.