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Sacred Moments and Slowing Down

Sacred Moments and Slowing Down

mind-at-peace

Sitting here on the fifteenth anniversary of September 11th, while reflecting on what is important in life, I find that I return to the same theme over and over. Sacred moments in which we slow down are what will be cherished and remembered when we leave this place. Sacred moments are ones in which we connect in a very real way with another without the desire or intention to share that moment with the world.  These moments are held tight in our hearts, virtually impermeable to the ravages of the world. It strikes me as saddening that these are not the same moments that many strive for or encounter within the busy culture of today.

 

“To the poet, to the philosopher, to the saint, all things are friendly and sacred, all events profitable, all days holy, all men divine.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

 

Busyness for busyness sake is a horrible side effect of todays world.  We rush from one thing to the next multitasking and oblivious to each other.  We network, rush in our jobs and talk incessantly to a plethora of friends and family via phone, text, chat and Facebook message. In all of the hustle and bustle do we ever really take the time to look someone in the eye and see him or her? Taking a moment to check in and see what is going on in another’s world. For that matter, have we even got the skills to do so anymore?  I don’t think so, and this invaluable form of human connection should be reinvigorated and nurtured.

 

“Reclaiming the sacred in our lives naturally brings us close once more to the wellsprings of poetry.”

Robert Bly

 

I am more than sure that the survivors of the horrible tragedy of September 11th would give anything to have their loved one back for just a moment. To wrap their arms around and tell them they love them.  The trivialities of life are probably not even considered; a promotion that was in the works, a move to a bigger house, the imminent publishing of a novel, all meaningless without the value of the human connection gleaned from it.

 

Take this day and commit to stopping the hustle.  Slow down and tell those closest to you that you love them. Look at the beauty of a blue sky or the wonders of a mountain. Sit in the grass and feel the energy of the earth beneath you and watch the hummingbirds fly about.  These are all sacred moments that we miss in the busyness of our over scheduled days. Allow your mind to linger in these moments that will never be repeated, gracing this space just once. In doing so, you free your mind from the constant and obsessive thoughts from today’s information saturated world.

 

“In this moment, everything is sacred.”

Ariel Books

 

Smile just because you can and feel the wind on your face. Sit peacefully and watch a sunrise or sunset. Learn to sit in the storm and allow yourself to slow down.  Not only will you experience the beauty of this sacred moment, you will open the mind to new possibilities and creativity that are suppressed by the daily to-do list. Honor those that no longer have these opportunities for there own sacred moments and who’s loved ones only have memories to hold in their hearts. Dare to live your life in its most honest and loving form. Slow down.

 

Restless Spirits – Live Boldly and Love Deeply

Restless Spirits – Live Boldly and Love Deeply

Restless spirit

 

Have you ever had the feeling that there is something else for you to do in this life?   How about the incessant need to be challenged and learn new things in order to feel inspired each day?  If so, I suspect that you are a part of a large group of intrepid life travelers that have restless spirits.  This affliction runs deeply in my family and as such I have been witness to a long line of renaissance men and women who have stepped into multiple arenas in life.  Some may see this as an inability to focus or a lack of mettle.  I find it wondrous and cannot imagine living life any other way.

 

I’m restless. Things are calling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars again.”

Anaïs Nin

 

When I was young I remember vividly daydreaming about running away with the gypsies.  Their dress, music and wild streak all spoke to me. I am part Hungarian and always attributed this to my heritage.  I spoke to my grandmother about this and she at once knew what I was talking about stating, “oh yes, we are all like that in this family! Life is meant to be lived.” She shared with me her dreams as a young women and how the constant pull of the new had played out in her life.  At 90 years old, she is still a unique, loving, gregarious and stubborn woman that has always danced to the beat of her own drum.  If my life can be half as full as hers, it will have been a life well lived.

 

I salute the light within your eyes where the whole universe dwells. For when you are at that center within you and I am that place within me, we shall be as one.”  –

Crazy Horse

 

A restless spirit has certain qualities that are quite remarkable.  The willingness to feel fear and move forward at the same time is one such quality.  No one is immune to doubts when making major life changes. These same doubts that paralyze are a motivational force for restless spirits. I would argue that if one does not feel some level of fear on a daily basis in regards to work or creative exploration, one is not fully living. Fear can be a wonderful catalyst for action if honored and acted upon.  I know I am challenging myself when I do a fear check and note that I have some things on my schedule that are new, unexplored and scary.  It is at the same time exhilarating and terrifying.

 

“I cannot be still for long. There is a riot in me all the time. A needy, restless voice in my heart endlessly urging me onward. I ache for new experiences and my hunger for adventure is boundless. My entire life is a perpetual loop of longing for something else.”

Beau Taplin

 

Another quality restless spirits possess is childlike curiosity.  When we are young, the entire learning process is based on curiosity and the desire to learn new things. Learning how to walk is no easy task, yet we all do. The pull of a new landscape is too great of an adventure to pass up. Why then do we let that childlike enthusiasm fade as we age? Where does all of that creative power of curiosity go? I do not believe that is goes anywhere. It remains within, allowing a disillusioned and uninspired feeling to permeate our daily lives. There are many ways to free this creative energy with artistic endeavors being just one. Creativity can be nurtured in business, home life and personal relationships.  The key is to continue to honor the creative energy, constantly exploring new avenues and ideas with a questioning and curious heart.

 

“Dreams and restless thoughts came flowing to him from the river, from the twinkling stars at night, from the sun’s melting rays. Dreams and a restlessness of the soul came to him.”

Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha

Those that choose to listen to the call of something greater are often seen as flighty and unreliable. It is a label given by others that have never taken an opportunity to express their restless creativity and have instead chosen to remain stoic and unchanging. I would offer that the gypsy spirit in all of us should be set free and allowed to roam. Go against the grain, make the unpopular decision, love even when others tell you not to. Live boldly and love deeply.  In this way we honor that spark that exists in each and every one of us.

What Is In A Name?

What Is In A Name?

Beautiful nameLavinia is a unique name and one that I have had an uneasy relationship with.  When I was a young child, I was embarrassed that no one could pronounce it and that I was so different from the other children in school. Kids teased me and often purposefully mispronounced it knowing that I would cringe. I got into the habit of not correcting others in a stubborn show of defiance, answering to anything that I was called. My siblings gave me the nickname Vin, and that is still what they call me today.  “Lavinia” took a backseat in my home and would stay there for quite some time.

As I got older, I began to accept my name but was often asked if it was a family name.  My name is actually a Subud name.  My parents were involved in this organization and practiced its spiritual exercises before I was even born.  My mother went into latihan, the active practice of Subud, during our deliveries, which consisted of loud singing in the delivery rooms much to the shock of the medical team. I was also witness to a constant stream of Subud practitioners in our home growing up. Members of Subud can travel the world and stay with other Subud families and as such; we had many foreign guests that stayed with us akin to a Subud hostel. My father, concerned about what the Catholic school I attended would think about this, made sure to tell me not to share with others how I was named.  This did nothing but make me feel ashamed of my name and even a bit isolated.  I wondered why I should be ashamed of my name? Especially when my name had been given as a spiritual guidepost with the belief that it fit my true self and served as an expression of this to the outside world.  

“Man is a microcosm, or a little world, because he is an extract from all the stars and planets of the whole firmament, from the earth and the elements; and so he is their quintessence.”

Paracelsus

As life progressed as it inevitably does, I became pregnant and once again lost “Lavinia”.  My children called me “mom” or “mommy” and my husband didn’t speak with love when using my name.  It was as if that unique person that I was named to be was in hibernation, lost to the sterilization of self and the new acceptance of the pack mentality of a nuclear family unit.  I was just Mrs. so and so or my husband’s wife. No longer unique in my identity and still unable to see that I eternally carried this with me regardless of my name seen by the world, I was lost.

Around this same time, one of the deeper spiritual questions that I began to ask was “If I am not my name than who am I?” The universe heard my persistent questioning and began to present a series of events to assist me with the answer.  I went through an emotionally challenging divorce, went back to school to get a masters degree and reentered the workforce outside of the dance studio. I found people addressing me by my name along with asking all sorts of curious questions about its origin.  I usually used the fallback of “It is a very old Latin name” which of course was true. One day in the library a theatre faculty member came up to me and said, “You do know that Lavinia is a character in the Shakespearean tragedy Titus Andronicus in which she is raped, her tongue and hands are cut off and she is later killed by her father because of the rape…” Wow! I did not know that.  I felt oddly protective of this character that shared my name and very proud that I had survived my own metaphorical version of this story in my marriage.  It was one of the first times that I recall really connecting with my name as a spiritual warrior of sorts.  

“I was wedded to all the stars of the sky.There was not a single star left, and I married every one of them with great spiritual pleasure. Then I married the moon.”

Ibn Arabi

As I worked through these challenging times, I continued to slowly relearn to connect with my name and who I was as an individual. I was no longer someone’s wife, but just “Lavinia”. All of my weirdness, quirkiness and creativeness started to reappear as that little girl that was once so carefree began to re-emerge. I began to proudly introduce myself to people and enjoyed their response to hearing a name they had probably never heard before. My name sounded beautiful to me again and was a true reflection of who I was once again becoming. The reclamation of self was in full bloom.

I have now arrived at acceptance that my name is uniquely suited to me.  I am a beautiful, loving, intelligent and creative soul. No one can truly take a name from me, it is so much more than letters on a paper, It has been carried on my heart, a branding of sorts. Beyond the Latin meaning, the name also means “Purity” or “pure of heart”.  I believe part of my life contract is to continue to represent my name with integrity.  My foray into mysticism is just one chapter of this lifelong  journey.

Music and Spirit

Music and Spirit

Rumi Music

To say I come from a musical family is an understatement.  My father played the guitar and was a working musician for many years. My mother has a beautiful voice and has cantered many church services as well as harmonized many Happy Birthday greetings on the phone. My Aunt Donna is still the music director of her church and plays the piano and organ beautifully. My grandfather played the trumpet in the army band during WWI and I have countless cousins that have demonstrated musical prowess as well as nieces and nephews that seem to have acquired the same musical gene.

As young children, my parents encouraged my siblings and I to play an instrument in grade school.  I worked my way through the piano, guitar and finally the flute of which my older sister would go on and get a PhD in music playing said instrument. Similarly, my little sister had the operatic voice of an angel. Still, I loved music and it was a very important part of my childhood.  

 

“Some day music will be the means of expressing universal religion. Time is wanted for this, but there will come a day when music and its philosophy will become the religion of humanity.”

Hazrat Inayat Khan

By the time I began to study dance in earnest, I was already reading music fluently and could hear phrasing quite well.  I have been told on many occasions that I am a very musical dancer and I take this as people noticing my ear for the language of music. I have confronted symphony conductors during Nutcracker rehearsal when they have carelessly left out bars of the score much to the chagrin of the dancers that have practiced diligently. I have enjoyed choreographing to some beautiful and engaging pieces of music as well as working with some fine composers. I have also used music to soothe my nerves when having an MRI.  I always choose Sara Bareilles and she has not let me down as yet during the two-hour procedures.

 

” After silence, that which comes closest to expressing the inexpressible is music.”

Aldous Huxley

 

As a part of this legacy, I have included music in my children’s life to the best of my ability, hoping to pass along my love and passion for it. My son has played a number of instruments and took a particular liking to the guitar just as his grandfather had.  He has flexed his musical inquiry with his interest in metal and on any number of occasions I have listened to metal artists even though the genre does not speak to me. My daughter, being a dancer, loves all things R&B and hip-hop. I have enjoyed listening to the “old school” beats during the many cyphers I have taken her to over the years. To say I have an eclectic appreciation for music is an understatement.

” At the root of all power and motion, there is music and rhythm, the play of patterned frequencies against the matrix of time. We know that every particle in the physical universe takes its characteristics from the pitch and pattern and overtones of its particular frequencies, its singing. Before we make music, music makes us.”

Joachim-Ernst Berendt

 

What exactly is it about the sounds of arranged notes on a page that are can bring people to tears and evoke such strong emotions? Music has a way of entering the body through the senses and then touching the deepest part of our souls. It is meditative and at the same time explorative.  When words cannot express what a heart is feeling, music steps in and forms the unspeakable. Music has the power to bring people together with a shared sense of humanity. In Sufism, whirling dervishes, who spin with arms extended endlessly, serve as a spiritual offering. Music is able to touch our true self and linger.

I use music when I walk early in the morning as a form of walking meditation. With the right music, I feel a sense of calmness that is unparalleled. The combination of music, nature and walking releases me from the endless mental loop of the day. The constant barrage of questions and concerns is replaced with clarity and serenity. It is one way in which I connect with God and I treasure it. I have known many musicians that have experienced this simply by playing a beautiful piece of music and entering an almost hypnotic state. I can recall a number of times when dancing an adage or piece of choreography, I have felt an almost out of body experience. It is ecstatic and so freeing.

So dance to whatever music frees you.  If it is Snoop Dog or Avenge Sevenfold than so be it. Music is individual as it should be.  The point is that you allow it to take you on a journey, leaving this hard world behind if only just for a few moments.

 

Wholehearted Living-Mothers and Daughters

Wholehearted Living-Mothers and Daughters

Brene Brown_Shame

I recently joined Audible to be able to listen to some of my favorite authors when hiking.  The first book on my list was Brené Brown’s Daring Greatly.  I so enjoyed this book when I read it in print and wanted the luxury of listening to it anytime the spirit moved me.  When searching Dr. Brown’s book list, I came across a workshop recording of The Power of Vulnerability: Teachings of Authenticity, Connection, and Courage.  This lecture was recorded right before her book Daring Greatly came out and touched on the same research. I was intrigued and choose it as my first Brené Brown selection on Audible.

After listening to the entire workshop in what felt like lightning speed, I am moved to suggest this recording to anyone wishing to live a more authentic life. Brené Brown provides actual tools or guideposts to achieve wholehearted living. I cried, laughed and pondered as she spoke. I related  to so many of the personal stories that she shared and was comforted to hear that I am not alone in my worries, and self-conceived notions of self. At the same time I found it oddly empowering to hear the notion of living more freely and in the moment.

“You are imperfect, you are wired for struggle, but you are worthy of love and belonging.”

Brené Brown

 

I began to reflect on my daughter and her development as a young woman.  I am blessed with a daughter that has added energy and color to my otherwise restrained life. She is sensitive and kind yet uninhibited and unapologetic to her true self. When she finds an outfit that she likes she immediately begins to dance around with unabashed glee. Even as a young adult, she still does this happy dance. When she is sad she cries, when she is happy she laughs out loud and when she is reflective she sits quietly in thought. She is naturally living in the moment, not overly concerned by how others perceive her; it is a beautiful thing to observe.

How I ended up with a daughter like this is puzzling. I am a bit of an introvert and always hoping that people like me. I overthink things and would absolutely not be caught dead dancing in the aisles of a grocery store, yet dance around in the privacy of my kitchen constantly. I am apparently not very good at vulnerability. I measure and take all sorts of steps to minimize risk in life to protect myself from pain. My daughter does the exact opposite. She lives full out, taking risks that I would never dream of taking. She calls people and confronts them if she is feeling a communication issue arising, she puts herself out there day after day knowing full well what rejection and disappointment feels like. She unapologetically swears like a sailor and lets her voice be heard in its own unique way. Don’t get me wrong, she has made her fair share of bad decisions as we all have. The difference is that these decisions do not seem to paralyze her with shame.

 

“Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity. It is the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity. If we want greater clarity in our purpose or deeper and more meaningful spiritual lives, vulnerability is the path.”

Brené Brown

 

Shame is that ugly word that we as a society do not speak about and is often swept under the rug.  By doing so we are living our shame with no clear path forward to living wholeheartedly. It is important to note that we all carry shame. It is insidious and creeps into many areas of our lives. “I  really just messed up that teaching moment with my child”, or “Why did I just say that to my co-worker?”, or “No one could love me as I am”.  It is a heavy burden to carry and ultimately takes the joy out of living.  Living wholeheartedly requires one to acknowledge shortcomings and the “not good enough” gremlins while still embracing each day with joy. Emotions such as shame can not be suppressed into the depths of our shadow self for long.  This will only lead to explosive release in the form of anger, rage or judgement. It is much healthier to recognize the emotion, observe it and let it go. If we understand the evolution for these emotions we can gently allow, yet not succumb. It is really a journey of self discovery, as all spiritual journeys are.

 

“If we can share our story with someone who responds with empathy and understanding, shame can’t survive.”

Brené Brown

 

My daughter is a constant reminder to me to let a few things goes, don’t take myself too seriously and dance like nobody’s watching. Sure we have our differences and disagreements, but it is in these disagreements that I learn the most about myself. I am just as sure that by observing me, she learns that some moments of restraint are justified.  I have learned that I need to let that same little girl that made dandelion chains and lived freely out more often to play and enjoy life. She is still there, hiding under layers of conditioning and shame. The times when I sing and dance while baking in the kitchen, I am sharing my vulnerably and in that moment I feel completely free. Thank you Brené Brown, for sharing your research, stories and words.

Mind Your Own Business

Mind Your Own Business

Comparison

 

In today’s world we have become overly obsessed with others lives, becoming voyeurs and observes rather than participators.  Social network keeps us connected in ways unknown ten years ago and allows for constant insight into others daily goings on.  These snapshots into another’s world are highly edited and demonstrate only a chosen few moments in what is probably a day much like our own. Work, family, sleep, repeat. In reality we have become less connected on a spiritual level and have forgotten what needs attention in our own world.

 

“If each of us sweeps in front of our own steps, the whole world will be clean.”

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

 

Parents used to tell us to mind our own business and this adage still holds true today. When we become more concerned with another’s life, we neglect our own. We begin to live in a false world with no connection to reality.  The real talk is that everyone, and I mean everyone has had bad stuff happen to them. No one is immune to challenges even if they appear happier than a kid at Christmas in their Instagram photos. I am sure they worry about their body, their finances, if they are loved or lovable, what direction they want to go in life, what their friends think of them…. the list goes on. The human condition does not discriminate. No one gets out of here alive.

For this reason, Goethe’s piece speaks to me. He points out that we should not be collecting the spoils of hard work or “gathering the ripe gold ears” without having watering the crops with our tears.

 

We must not hope to be mowers, And to gather the ripe gold ears, Unless we have first been sowers And water the furrows with tears. It is not just as we take it, This mystical world of ours, Lifes field will yield as we make it A harvest of thorns or of flowers.

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

 

Not only is this sentiment beautiful, but it is also true. No one gets a free pass to eternal life. Our souls are here to learn and the best teacher is adversity. We are a stubborn bunch. When we get distracted from this by living externally in another’s life, we have lost an opportunity that may not present again. Experiences that mold are unique to us in both their beauty and their challenges. Think back on the story of your life and try to see the connections where others may not. For me, I recall the moment I found out I was bringing a new life into the world, all of the days I spent at the ballet barre repeating the same movements over and over, the school meetings and events, moments of complete abandon while on stage, moments of complete constriction in my personal life, returning to school mid life, starting a new career and leaving all that I had known for twenty plus years to start anew. These are just some of the experiences that are the fabric of my life. Only in retrospect can I see that all of these moments created a thread of connection to the present. I have carried bits from each experience and have gently formed the whole that I am today.

 

“I will soothe you and heal you,

I will bring you roses.

I too have been covered with thorns.”

Rumi

 

It is essential to remind oneself that images splashed across social media pages are not a true reflection of this continuum.  Yes, they may reflect a moment of real joy in another’s life, but they leave out all of the struggle and pain that may have come before. One emotion cannot exist without the other. Happiness cannot be felt without an understanding of sadness, love without hate, companionship without loneliness and patience without anger. It is in the experience of one that we are able to recognize the other. If taken at face value, another’s moment of happiness can be honored for being just that, a moment. This should not bear any reflection on personal life work because their is no context to the moment.  No way to recognize the work that may have been done to achieve this state of happiness. People like to put their best foot forward and social media is the perfect platform for this type of behavior. I suggest that you live your life unfiltered and without a “best side” to photograph.  We are beautifully whole the way we are and no amount of online comparison with another will heal wounds that reflect a lack of self-love and acceptance. Therefore, as Goethe wrote, I choose to pick the golden ears that have been watered with my tears, tears that serve as a constant reminder of difficult and transformative experiences, beautiful and exhilarating life moments. I claim them all.

 

Blessing in Another Year

Blessing in Another Year

image1

 

“Autumn is really the best of the seasons; and I’m not sure that old age isn’t the best part of life.”

– C.S. Lewis

Another year brings another opportunity to become a better version of myself. As I have reached middle age, one would think that I would not want to celebrate the passing of the years.  Oh contraire! I love reaching a new year and a new age. It serves as a benchmark of how far I have come. Demonstrating the blessing of time, that so many others are denied as they leave this world far too young. I am a lucky one that has had the joyous experience of growing old. With each passing year, I learn something else about myself, in a constant state of discovery. Along with the spiritual discoveries, I am amazed at how the biological body adapts to the constant changes in life. First it is the growth spurts of youth, then the decades of bearing and raising child. What a miracle life is.  Shortly thereafter is the rediscovery of what the body is capable of.  Many people approaching their forties are drawn to extreme sports, marathons and the like.  It is a final test of the physical limits before the decline becomes more challenging.

“If wrinkles must be written on our brows, let them not be written upon the heart.  The spirit should never grow old.”

– J. Garfield

Then arrives the late 40’s -50’s of which I am familiar with.  The body begins to let one know that to be gentle is the best approach. It requires a new level of attention and respect for the aging process. For me, I know that I am tired, have a leg that will not cooperate and bouts of dizziness.  I associate these symptoms with my illness and never once think my aching could be from twenty years of daily ballet training. You see, illness has been a gift for me.  It has reminded me that we are all terminal and are only given so much time.  Regardless of each of our challenges, we may not be here tomorrow. Nothing is guaranteed. This realization is one of the reasons that I love to welcome a new year.  I am forever thankful for the opportunity to live again, more fully and to experience new things. I have had so many chapters in life and appreciate the ability to adapt. Rather than constantly ponder what the future holds, I choose to enjoy this moment, my birthday. I will only turn 47 once and that is today, and what a beautiful thing it is!

“Beautiful young people are accidents of nature, but beautiful old people are works of art.”

– Eleanor Roosevelt

Am I Weird? Confessions of an INFJ

Am I Weird? Confessions of an INFJ

Mary_Rakow_jpg

Have you ever felt out of step from all those around you, a little eccentric and misunderstood?  I know I have and quite often. Even my kids agree I am a complex woman. The constant dialogue in my mind is endless and I find myself a voyeur of the human condition.  Leave me in a mall and you will probably find me sitting on a bench just people watching. I find that much more interesting than shopping.

It took many decades of self-examination and most recently, the discovery that I am an INFJ, to even begin to feel comfortable with myself. If you have never taken the Myers-Briggs personality test, I highly recommend it. You can find a free test HERE.  I have taken this test many times and each time; I have unequivocally been classified as an INFJ. I retook the test in the hopes that I would end up being another personality, one that is not quite as complex.  No such luck. I am squarely in the INFJ realm and must continue to work on accepting the personality I came into this world with.

So, what is an INFJ? Hallmarks of this personality type include the Jungian categories of Introverted, iNtuitive, Feeling and Judging. Without making this a Jungian lesson on psychology, I will point out a few general characteristics that many INFJ exhibit. A very rare personality with only 1-2 % of the population in this category, INFJ people may feel out of step with the rest of the world. They have an ability to exhibit empathy and at times a psychic like talent of reading other’s personalities. They are often mislabeled as extroverted due to their strong communication skills and ability to make others comfortable. In practice they are introverts and often feel recharged by time spent alone.  INFJ’s are also self-expressive, activists, creative and very strong willed when pushed. Sounds like an interesting bird, right?

 

“Everything that irritates us about others can lead us to an understanding of ourselves.” ― C.G. Jung

 

When I read about INFJ’s the first time it was like coming home. I immediately knew that I was indeed a member of this small community. Nothing described me better than this personality. It explained so perfectly why I feel uncomfortable in large groups, yet people still see me as outgoing and easy to talk to. Why I am so sensitive to others energy that it hurts to be around someone who is hurting, empathy is a powerful thing. Why I can become steadfast when pushed to my limit.  It was all there, laid bare.

I understand that beyond a label there is still free will. Claiming of a label can be dangerous to personal growth if used as a crutch for bad behavior. Ultimately, I do not see a contradiction in knowing this information. It simply provides me with more tools to work on becoming a better person. I enjoy knowing that others act and respond the same way I do, it is somehow comforting and less isolating.

If you are inclined to do further research on INFJ’s and other personalities types you can read up on it HERE and HERE.  Both include a free test, which can be a fun summer afternoon activity. Happy personalities research everyone!

 

Personal Narratives and How We View the World

Personal Narratives and How We View the World

Mercy

 

To be a searcher of the soul does not preclude one from falling short time and time again. We are human and as such are challenged with human imperfections and peculiarities. The times have been especially difficult to digest and one begins to wonder how the human race will ever get back on track.  In this vein, I was speaking to a colleague this week when he pointed out that historically speaking, there has always been an auto correct moment.  Fascinated by his statement, I prodded him for clarification. He continued that even if many people have lost their way and even their lives, a moment of extreme auto correct had pushed the human race back to the moral high ground. Examples he used where events that lead up to the end of wars, the holy crusades, the Ottoman Empire’s demise etc.  It was at the same time a horrific and an illuminating point of view.

I began to reflect on his words but on a much smaller scale.  I do agree that in moments of falling short, of which we all find ourselves, a situational event often provides enough disturbance to redirect our will. We are stubborn and tend to believe the story we tell ourselves regardless of its truth. As storytellers, we create a narrative around our beliefs and experiences. Over time it becomes difficult to know what parts of the narrative are genuine and what parts are embellished. A personal example is my childhood story about cold weather and getting to school. I regularly had to stand at the bus stop in the snow and cold and found myself stretching the details when sharing my experience. This was my youthful way of pressing a point that it was indeed cold and the snow was indeed deep and difficult to walk through.  I am quite sure that the snow was not thigh deep on most days as I liked to state. The gist of the story was true…it was cold and snowy and difficult to get to school. The details were exaggerated to add impact to my words.

As an adult, I see our storytelling at work in many ways. With the recent unrest in our nation I find that most people only hold a lens for their story and rarely take a moment to hear others stories from a unique point of view. Is that not the hallmark of falling short? As students of mysticism we are drawn by our personal experiences to our faith. Part of these experiences must include moments in which we have become too engrossed in our self with no consideration for others. It is a treacherous place to be and rife with ego and selfishness. Awareness of this in itself serves as a personal auto correct on a spiritual journey.

“Come, come, whoever you are. Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving. It doesn’t matter. Ours is not a caravan of despair. come, even if you have broken your vows a thousand times. Come, yet again , come , come.” -Rumi

The question is not if we fall short but when. Having the grace and humility to admit these moments shows true strength of character rather than sticking to our story as if we were a politician trapped in talking points. Holding empathy for another even when they have a different view on life is the hallmark of growth. We are so gloriously different and that is what makes our world so beautiful. If we all looked alike or thought the same thoughts, life would be impossibly dull. It is in the disagreement that we are stimulated to listen, grow and learn.

I do believe that we are reaching a tipping point, a moment of auto correct, and I hesitate to think what discomfort and pain we as humans will suffer in the process. I only know what I can do as a part of the whole. I can listen intently to others as they speak their truths without interrupting or trying to insert my voice. I can reflect on another’s story and see which parts of their narrative are similar to my own. I can rejoice in the similarities rather than the differences and return to them with love and understanding. This is not a rejection of my views but an acknowledgment of others. It does not mark me as passive or insignificant. By doing so I am showing strength, and most importantly love for another.

For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of -God Romans 3:23

This is not a Utopian view of the world as I have been told on many occasions. This is the way in which our souls have gently guided us in this world, even when we continue to disappoint time and time again. It is in getting up and trying once more, that our souls will ultimately grow wings and soar.

 

Families and Compassion

Families and Compassion

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Having lived a great distance from my family since I was twenty, I am the first to say that my heart feels the pull of those closest to me often. These are the people that have known me for the longest and know my true self well. As the second of five children, I find that we all fall effortlessly into our birth order roles for better or for worse each time we see each other.

My older sister is just that, that oldest of the flock. She has been “in charge” of the rest of use since as long as I can remember. Back in the times when children were allowed to be home alone, she was our babysitter in a house full of rambunctious trouble makers. She could not have been more than ten or eleven and I hesitate to think what could have gone wrong. As such she still likes to direct the rest of us and gets frustrated when she feels she is not being heard or respected. As the second daughter and second child, I was and am overly sensitive. A bit more of a dreamer than my sister, I didn’t like confrontation and disharmony of any kind. My sister often spoke for me and she still does at times, even if I don’t want her too. The next two siblings are boys. The first being hyperactive as a child and is still very energetic as an adult. As the first born son he plays that role well, always dictating his “plan” and not always taking into account others perspectives. He has the alpha male and leader mentality. The fourth child, another brother, played the part of the peacemaker. He still does this as well, except his peacemaking comes in the form of stepping away from the action in order to remain neutral. Finally, the fifth child is my little sister. Much younger than the rest of us, she is of another generation and we all struggle to find connections between us.

I love all of my siblings dearly and always will. The thing about family is that the relationships vacillate between love and disdain depending on what is happening and what discussions are being had.  It is a grave misnomer that just because we all came from the same parents, that we will view the world in the same way.  This could not be farther from the truth. The challenge for me continues to be to honor and respect my family without forcing my opinions and views on them in the heat of the moment, difficult at best. While I tend to stay away from confrontation, if pushed up against a wall, I will become quite stubborn and stick firmly to my views. I forget that it is not as important to be right as to be happy. It gets lost in the emotion of the moment. As a member of a family of very strong willed individuals, this is magnified when we all gather together. Yes, we love each other. Yet this love can become secondary when one is set on getting a point across.

I like to think about the story of the butterfly adapted so well by Paulo Coelho. Each person has to arrive at their destination in their own time. No amount of cajoling and argument will get them there any faster. Read the excerpt below and envision the butterfly as another family member.

The Lesson of the Butterfly

by Paulo Coelho

A man spent hours watching a butterfly struggling to emerge from its cocoon. It managed to make a small hole, but its body was too large to get through it. After a long struggle, it appeared to be exhausted and remained absolutely still.

The man decided to help the butterfly and, with a pair of scissors, he cut open the cocoon, thus releasing the butterfly. However, the butterfly’s body was very small and wrinkled and its wings were all crumpled.

The man continued to watch, hoping that, at any moment, the butterfly would open its wings and fly away. Nothing happened; in fact, the butterfly spent the rest of its brief life dragging around its shrunken body and shriveled wings, incapable of flight.

What the man – out of kindness and his eagerness to help – had failed to understand was that the tight cocoon and the efforts that the butterfly had to make in order to squeeze out of that tiny hole were nature’s way of training the butterfly and of strengthening its wings.

Sometimes our need to help is just that, our need. Everything will come about in due time. It is painful to see people that we love struggle to free themselves from their self-made cocoons. It feels so personal and we can take on the struggle as our own if we are not careful. All we can do is love one another, consistently, constantly and with vigor.

I like the Quaker practice of Clearness Committees and Circles of Trust. These are comprised of a close group of peers that are tasked with listening and just being present for the person in need. No judgment. If only family could do the same. Judgement is rift in families, and I have never understood why this is.

“That’s why in a Circle of Trust we have a Touchstone for “No fixing, saving, advising or correcting.” It means that you don’t convince other people to see things your way or give them your idea of a good solution. Instead you provide non-judgmental support that empowers them to explore the questions and answers that will be the most meaningful to them.”

http://www.couragerenewal.org/hazards-of-wrong-help/

I have renewed my commitment to stay true to myself during my visit with my family yet respectful of others views. If this means sitting quietly while others argue about politics, religion or any other hot button issue, so be it.  It is a part of my life lessons and I continue to give it my best shot. Love is love, no caveats or stipulations. I accept my siblings as they choose to show up, and my prayer is that I they extend the same courtesy to me.