Archive for Contemplation
Letting Go of Expectations – A Dishwasher Fable
Posted by: | Comments
I have recently moved into a new home, and in my new home, in my new kitchen, is a new dishwasher. This home is all new – new to me, and new because no one has lived here before. Everything is lovely and shiny and full of promise.
I was eager to use the dishwasher – to wash the china that I had moved. Something about being wrapped in paper and put in a box for a few days just seems to require some extra cleansing.
Being the obedient type, and scoring moderately high as a “Fact Finder” on the Kolbe Conative Styles Assessment, I read the manual, loaded the dishwasher, ran the water in the nearest sink until it was hot – as directed – and started the machine.
Morning’s for the Birds
Posted by: | Comments
I’m at Vikingsborg – the guesthouse of the Convent of St. Birgitta. It is quiet here. There are a few honks from random geese, but otherwise the birds – now that it is dark – are quiet. They will wake again – as will I – a little after 5, as the sun comes up.
The past couple nights it has been warm enough to leave the sliding door open and the bird song is so loud it feels as if the birds are in my room with me. It is a nice noise, this bird alarm, but I usually hate morning alarms and I’ve been trying to figure out why I’m enjoying being woken up so early by the birds.
Gaining Light for the Holidays
Posted by: | CommentsIT FELT LOVE - Hafiz – Translated by Daniel Ladinsky
How
Did the rose
Ever open its heart
And give to this world
All its
Beauty?
It felt the encouragement of light
Against its
Being,
Otherwise,
We all remain
Too
Frightened.
Some Holiday Memories
Posted by: | Comments
The power was back on, finally, and the house was toasty warm. We had moved the bed back away from the fireplace, I don’t remember if we still had a fire. I was tired of fires, and it still seemed strange to have fires in the North room; the fireplace there wasn’t one that we used while I was growing up.
When I was little, the North Room was where the television was, and a sort of divan bed where my Great-Aunt Berry spent much of her time when she was down from Maine for the winter. I don’t remember if she watched television, mainly she played endless games of solitaire with miniature cards, and did crossword puzzles too. And she rolled her own cigarettes, and took her dog for walks, and always had her special package of bologna in the refrigerator, and bottle of gin in her bedroom.
Acceptance & The Gift of Birds – Conclusion
Posted by: | CommentsIf I know – and I do – that others are doing the best they can and that is not only enough, but good, who am I to hold myself to a higher standard?
I believe that all that is is connected, because we all came from some fundamental source – call it a Big Bang, or God, or Universe, or that which has no name: Source. And I believe that our natural state, our core, is one of joy and well-being, and that there is great beauty in all things – though I may not always be able to see it – because we are all derived from the same Source. If there is beauty anywhere, there is beauty everywhere.
Certainly, there is beauty in birds, and none of the birds I had seen seemed to be lacking in any way.
Acceptance & The Gift of Birds – Part 2
Posted by: | CommentsIf I know – and I do – that others are doing the best they can and that is not only enough, but good, who am I to hold myself to a higher standard?
There is a strange and special alchemy about coaching, which is partly what makes it such a rewarding activity. I almost always am coaching people in areas where I need to work myself, and the insights we discover can always be reflected back towards me – it’s one of the not so secret bonuses of being a coach. Even when I don’t see it in the moment, upon reflection, the bonus is always there – and often blatantly obvious.
For those of us who continually work on ourselves, it is as if we are a series of Russian Nesting Dolls – we remove one layer and then at some point realize we have another layer of the same Read More→
Acceptance & The Gift of Birds – Part 1
Posted by: | CommentsIf I know – and I do – that others are doing the best they can, and that is not only enough, but good, who am I to hold myself to a higher standard?
I turned fifty a month ago, and used the occasion as an excuse to try and figure myself out. I knew it was time to really inquire within, get honest, and face whatever truth I had been avoiding. Surely I had been doing something wrong, otherwise I would have dreams and desires that I could articulate – wishes and wants that I could focus upon and make real.
I decided that if I removed distractions, placed myself in a state of awareness, and consciously set my intention: wisdom would come. So I went into a convent for a week – an amazing experience – but that is a story for another time. And at the end of the week I was no smarter than I was before – just more frustrated, because my plan had failed.
September 17th
Posted by: | Comments
Nine years ago, September was still my favorite month. Eight years ago it turned into a horror. This year, it is just September.
September of 2001 was when everything went terribly wrong – an excruciating mixture of intense personal pain and national sorrow. My beloved little mother was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer in the context of the destruction of 9/11.
I remember wondering at the time – as I traveled through the barricades of lower Manhattan and looked out my mother’s bedroom window to where the twin towers used to be – which would be worse: to have your loved one suddenly taken away by a seemingly random act of violence, or have to watch your loved one Read More→
