He is Risen, and We Have Fallen

Over Thanksgiving we had a wonderful trip. We were invited to Charleston, SC to visit Calvin's oldest brother and family. We were also joined by Calvin's parents, his youngest sister, and my mom and one of her boyfriends. It was one of those trips where everything seemed to go just about as close to perfect as possible. Smooth rides both ways with kids, a lovely balance of seeing family, and some private couple time at our hotel. No drama, good food—at times relaxing, at times stimulating. A pleasant change from the daily routine, and just the right amount of time that when it was over we felt ready to return home and get back to our own surroundings. When asked about the trip, I raved about what a lovely vacation it was.

For spring break this year we decided to go to my mom's and spend a couple of days there, then head to South Carolina to visit Calvin's family. This trip, it turns out, was not like the first. In fact, at times it felt like the complete opposite. It is funny how sometimes it seems that God gives us these little clues when things are going to try us and test us just a little bit more than usual. We look back—and as they say hind sight is 20/20—and see the little clues along the way that say take heed.

We started out with thinking my mom would be happy to see her grandkids, a welcome visit. The first email that discussed our potential itinerary was met with less than enthusiasm. It seems that it might not even be possible to come visit my mom. She currently has Victoria, a homeless woman living in "Pierson's" room, and also had her godson who was waiting for his apartment to be finished living upstairs. It appeared it might have been a bit too much for a family of four and two dogs, understandably so. So then Calvin and I discussed going perhaps just to South Carolina. After the first conversation with his brother we found out they had plans to possibly go to DC the exact time we proposed to come down. So we went back to the drawing board. Maybe since DC is just a couple hours away—and aside from visiting the history museum, we still as a family have not properly visited the city—this would be a good opportunity.

As it turned out, the godson decided to get a hotel for a week and the brother's DC trip was cancelled, so we ended up going back to plan A. but it seems already there were signs that this was not one of those times where everything would just seamlessly fall into place. For some reason upon arrival in Raleigh we all seemed to be particularly tired and grumpy. I found myself struggling with Victoria's presence. Her strong and not-so-subtle personality was really working my nerves. I was battling inside my mind. "Let it go, this is all she has. So what if I sense she really does not want us here and can't wait for us to leave. Her problem not mine. She does realize this is not actually her house, right? No, really Victoria, it has never occurred to us, when we have been blue in the face telling Pierson to chew with his mouth closed for the millionth time, certainly you are the first person to notice it...." And on and on they went the endless commentaries, knowing I needed to find peace, and finding myself at war.

My mom had planned for our first day there to go to the Lebanese festival that afternoon and then a French Alliance gathering that night. She mentioned haphazardly the location in a sort of convoluted way. Mentioning it was where the fete de la musique had been, close to the convention center, she may have said Fayetteville Street, but it was in usual fashion mixed in with many other pieces of information, and it all began to seem a bit fuzzy. Somehow Calvin assumed it was at the convention center where the International Festival is held. To be honest, I was not that excited about doing anything that day.

I felt tired and stressed about the large amount of music I needed to learn and concerts I needed to finish organizing. I thought we would get to my mom's and completely relax, have a little less of children to take care of, and a comfortable easy going surrounding. Now we found ourselves with a busy day, a restless presence invading our cozy space and to amp it up just a little, Soren screamed the entire twenty-minute ride to the convention center, where the festival.....was not. Still screaming and trying to gain clarity as to exactly where we were going tensions rose. I was starving, and moody. For some reason (to be clarified shortly) Soren seemed like he had resorted back to infancy the past few nights and days and was wanting to nurse all the time. Eventually after a few heated exchanges we made it to the festival. We had some nice food and a decent enough time, but by the end, after a day in the hot sun, I was spent.

We decided to decline for the alliance event and take it easy. The next day we decided to go to a park for a run with the baby while Mimi and Pierson fished. My mom wanted us to go a way we were not familiar with. Once again, the directions were kind of half-mumbled as if we already knew where it was. We had no idea. Calvin and I are trying to figure out what and where she meant, with no help from the back seat. Then we hear that we passed it. Oh well. I lost it, not just a little, I mean completely lost it. I think 40 some years of feeling frustrated about poor communication skills came raging to the surface like a volcano. I think everyone in the car could not understand why I was so enraged. But my being exploded, "If you want something, just be clear, no one can understand what you want, or mean. It is beyond frustrating", and on it went.

The pain of wanting to understand, wanting to help, and feeling trapped in a cobweb of confusion and mixed half-messages and thoughts, never fully formed or expressed. Getting one aspect of the puzzle, while the voice trails off to another vague thought and then you can't hear at all. "Just a little clarity please, help us get directly from point a to point b." She says: "Well, I don't like to give orders". I say: "It's not about orders, you obviously do want us to go a certain way, to understand something, yet it is near impossible to figure out with the way it is expressed." It is the pain of wanting to understand, to help, to do, to give, and feeling trapped, not being able, not being helped. Willingness met with shut-down. Reaching out met with not being understood. Why is it so difficult? I am frustrated at the frustration, it should not be this complicated. Alas it is, and I reject this difficulty and herein lies the core of the pain.

My voice teacher once was talking to me about some problem, maybe tension in the jaw or tongue, or some other pesky inhibitor of beauty and freedom in sound. She said, "We can take twenty years analyzing to decide it's all your mother's fault, or we can just say relax the jaw. " So funny, yet so true.

Just as we finished up our first lap around the park, the baby began to vomit all over himself. That little voice inside felt just a little skeptical that he was being so relaxed in his little stroller, not complaining at all to get out as we leisurely made our way around. Ahh, yes, now it all makes sense. His stomach flu with fevers and severe diarrhea lasted a few days, then Calvin's started, and then Pierson's.

We called the brother as we were halfway through our vacation now, and planning to head to SC. We wanted to say, we are still willing to come, but things are not so hot, and we seem to have a highly contagious stomach flu on our hands. The response was “please come if you are able, we were so looking forward to the visit.” So, we did.

We arrived at our "stay to hotel" whenever we are in Charleston. We love it because they have a wonderful breakfast buffet where you can sit leisurely and have anything you could imagine. We got to the hotel that evening and noticed the breakfast area all boarded up, plywood covered. The hotel was in total make-over mode. No breakfast buffet, but there would be one little truck out back after you walk through the war zone, I mean construction zone, where you have the choice of an egg sandwich, bacon and sausage and eggs, or a yogurt parfait. The portions are minuscule and the quality lame. Calvin logs on to his computer to start work the next AM just as the drilling starts next door. For once Soren slept past 6, but Pierson wakes up screaming with stomach pains at 6:30. "Shhhh, you will wake up the baby". "It hurts AHHHHH!" "SHHHH, waaaaa, never mind baby is up.”

I need to get out, maybe I will go to the pool, it's a beautiful, sunny day. I set up my towel and books on the table next to me just as the construction truck pulls up to the dumpster beside the pool—Beep, Beep, Beep. Crashing boards, and fake marble bathroom fall to the bottom of the giant metal dumpster. I am done. Again, more done, though I thought it not possible. I go to a nearby trail, I put my iPod on and begin to run. The sun is shining on me, warming my being. The nature is beautiful, the air is fresh. I feel good, calm, happy for the first time in a few days. Then it hits me again. "Learning to not dislike the suffering". I have been fighting the suffering, I have been a warrior in battle, and I am losing. God is speaking to me. The beauty of his creation and endorphins are illuminating the truth. I feel rejuvenated, ok, with it all. I head back to the hotel. I look down as I enter the construction zone, my iPod is dead. I laugh, of course. It is dead, of course. “The LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.” (Job 1:21)

Sometimes when examining the deep questions of life, spirit, existence we come to a point of clarity, the ever-famous ah ha moment in psychotherapy. We think we have got it. In a way, we have, our mind has opened a new portal, and a beam of light can shine through and illuminate that nook of darkness. But then there is a second aspect to those moments, or so I have found. Where God speaks to us and says, "OK, now you get it, time to be it." Time not only to understand in that nook but exercise that understanding through the fullness of your being.

You have analyzed and understood how to swim, you even swam a few laps in the pool, time to move to the ocean. I am now more fully and consciously embracing the idea of not disliking the suffering. This Easter our family photo was not one of bonnets and ties, spring colors and flowers, but rather four tuckered out tired people in my mom's cozy and welcoming bed. It's funny how now I think back on that picture with a certain fondness. It represents so much more than just how ill we all had felt. It represents spirit in action.

It represents cherishing even more all the in between moments on that trip. Those moments that despite all the hardships, there was still beauty, kindness, sharing and communion. Somehow, those moments feel just a little bit sweeter than usual.

Upon return to Raleigh we found out Victoria has caught the stomach bug too. I feel compassion, it feels good to feel compassion. That compassion that felt so hidden and lost just a few days prior. The good and the truth seem to be amplified now, the hardships have done their good work. He is risen indeed!

Removing the Block

So it seems I have had an experience of writer’s block. OK, maybe that is an exaggeration, since I am not really a writer per se. I have no formal training; it is not my career. I do not have a hovering boss demanding my latest piece or deadlines looming that have to be met. But I do enjoy this blog writing as an outlet for the many thoughts swarming around in my mind. Somewhere I must feel I have something to say and want it to be heard, even if it is only me hearing my own thoughts or maybe more precisely, sorting them out and lining them up. Taking the thoughts beyond my inner world and into the outer world of pen and paper, or keyboard and blog. It is satisfying when there is feedback and ensuing conversation—the joy of diving deeper into an issue, or discovering other subtle shades, the beauty of the other that can inspire, or broaden, one's own limited perspective. It is also satisfying just to write for no other reason than that. A cathartic activity, creating not because you have to, just because you want to. Creating out of love, as our Creator's very nature does.

All that being said, yes, I felt blocked. I had a post, almost finished, but it just was not right. It went off on too many tangents and was not making the point. I erased half and started again. Then a new thought came in. “That is it”, I thought, but then the next step of bringing it forward out of thought into writing just did not seem to want to take place. I gave up, then let it go. I wanted to write, it just didn't feel right, or right enough. Life got busy, stuff happens. I felt myself falling into some negatives. Places I thought were healed and gone resurfaced like an angry bear. The wounds felt more wide open than ever. “How can this be?”, I thought, but there I was.

I just returned from a weekend away at the Himalayan Institute. I took a long weekend seminar, Thursday through Sunday. The topic was " The Healing Art of Yoga and Meditation." It was as the saying goes, “just what the doctor ordered”. A little time away from the daily grind, no meals to cook, a healing uplifting environment, being with and supported by my family and lessons of deep knowledge and wisdom daily. No emails to send, just taking it all in.

The topic of the blog post that was, which never came to be, was about perfect justice. The main idea was that the only true currency for perfect justice is forgiveness, essentially a letting go. A loosening of the grip, the grip of pain, of the initial injustice that caused the pain. An unraveling of every subsequent righteous thought attached to that initial spur, and all its ensuing pricks. It occurred to me, if the scales of justice have tipped too far to one side, then tipping them farther over to the opposite side may feel satisfying to the wounded party, but ultimately creates a continuum of imbalance and further damage. By truly forgiving and letting go, the scales can come back to neutral and start afresh. I write this, which now seems to come out much clearer than before, because during this seminar, some of these same ideas really came to light for me.

In the end, perhaps there really is no such thing as complete healing, but rather restoring balance. Those places of pain, of suffering may always exist. We may always look at certain situations and feel a sense of loss or sadness, but when we regain balance, it is ok. We can embrace these wounds, not reject them. These very same situations no longer take a role of negatives but rather are part and parcel with the path of healing and enlightenment. They are not only needed, but are good and right.

When we are anchored in imbalance they hurt, make us mad, seem unfair, and we have become disempowered. We talked about Turku Thondup's idea from his book "The Healing power or Mind", that we must reverse the thought of the dislike of suffering. It such a simple thought in a way, and yet a truly powerful approach. Accepting and rejoicing in our suffering not only leads to healing and enlightenment but it is the same path.

We rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. (Romans 5: 3-5).

When we reject these feelings, we are in a battle with them, and they will bring us down, or at least have negative consequences. I think one of the reasons I actually felt upset about some of these recent negative emotions was not just that I was experiencing them, but almost more strongly feeling like somehow I had been tricked. I thought these things were healed and gone. How can it be that here they are? That seemed almost worse than the actual initial feeling of what it was.

Funny how we continue to add to our own suffering even by our very ideas about that suffering and how it should or should not be. I am thinking now it is more like a person with very fair skin. This person has a beautiful, creamy complexion admired by many, it is a part of who they are. When they are a little negligent and forget a hat and sunscreen, they will pay with the pain of a bad burn and perhaps some embarrassment at how their once pristine complexion is now an angry tomato. Time will pass and they will return to their pristine complexion. They will be restored to their unique natural make-up, and all will be well. However, a basic knowledge of their condition and vigilant care to what that make-up requires is necessary to avoid the imbalance of becoming a red tomato head.

A daily spiritual practice can be our sunscreen and hat, not necessarily to change our natural composition, but rather to embrace that composition, knowing it is part and parcel of the path we are on. We can rejoice when it lies dormant and is "healed", and we can rejoice equally when it rears its ugly head as a sweet reminder that something is a little out of alignment and might need some tender loving care, to be gently guided back into balance.

Jesus is God

Oftentimes I have been asked about this topic, or I hear people say something like this. Yes, Jesus is great. I consider him a teacher, a prophet, a healer, maybe even revolutionary. BUT, and that is the big word, I do not consider him the son of God. Others say, are not we all children of God? So I thought I would address it.

Christ is considered fully human and fully God. Fully human, flesh and bones, he ate and drank, felt joy and sorrow, the human experience. Fully God, I will explain.

Yes, we are all children of God, made in his image. “God created man in his own image.” (Gen. 1: 27) However, we are all sinful. Don't cringe, all that means as I have written about before is that none of us are perfect, we all "miss the mark of perfection."

So why does it even matter if we are following Jesus, whether he is actually the son of God, or fully God? We can all agree he is a great role model, right? And maybe more importantly what does that even mean the son of God? Well let me explain.

I think there are many important facets. One is the idea that we are all, yes, children of God made in his image. We are all here with a purpose and a reason for being. “Even the hairs of your head are all numbered.” (Matt. 10:30) So Christ also is a child of God and came to earth with a purpose and mission. The big difference and one aspect that makes Christ THE "son of God" is the fact that he came to earth already perfect, he was without sin. He did not, and would not ever miss the mark of perfection. This is one of the reasons why we say, he was of one substance with the Father.

That one substance has qualities (transcendent, eternal, incorporeal, perfect by nature). He was perfect in understanding, intention and actions. God had a plan for him and he walked that plan perfectly. He spent three years as a young man preaching and some two thousand years later still has billions of people who worship him. Clearly the guy did something right, and that right thing was to walk God's perfection mission. To demonstrate with his own life what we are to do in our lives in order to have communion with God.

So while we daily live with our actions having consequences – “Whatever one sows, that will he also reap.” Gal. 6:7) – sometimes good, sometimes not so good, Christ's actions were already aligned from his birth with perfect intention, or God's will. Unlike us, who sometimes think we have good intentions, but perhaps a misguided motivation leads us to a lot of trouble. Or as grandpa Joe used to say: "The road to hell is paved with good intentions!"

So in some ways Christ IS exactly like us, a child of God, a human being, here with a God-given purpose. Yet in other ways he is not like us, mainly, he is already perfect, without sin. Herein lies the clincher of why we do not just follow Christ like a guide or teacher and why he must remain THE "son of God" (of one substance with the father).

Yes, we do follow his commandments like one would with a teacher or guide. But we also embrace the idea of literally taking him into our being, his likeness; or his one-and-same substance as God, is invited into our innermost being. Then through this communing with that one substance we are transformed. “I will give them a heart of flesh.” (Ezekiel 11:19). To become like him, not only on the outside by our choices in life, and exterior actions, but on the inside by a transformation of the inner being.

We make an agreement to die initially and continue daily to our own sin so that we may with faith and hope, grow in his likeness. We acknowledge our sin and repent of it as is commanded, so that we can receive his grace. “Repent therefore, and turn back, that your sins may be blotted out.” (Acts 3:19) He does not want to punish us for our sin, he wants to love and forgive us, but we need to give it up, or perhaps more appropriately at least be willing to. (Thy will be done).

Really all that willingness means is to recognize that we are sinful, and say it's ok it's here, but I don't want it. I am sorry it is here, I want to hand it to you, let it go and become like you. “Go and sin no more.” (John 8:11). This is where the mystical transformation manifests. When the will is there, the transformation begins. When we allow him to be there, by our willingness and relinquishing, then there he resides. When we ask, we receive. When we truly want to follow his will, then he will show us the way. However, we need to be willing to die, as he did on the cross, which is not easy, and was not easy for Christ either. “Father, remove this cup from me.” (Mark 14:36).

We are called to release false sense of self, or our own self-righteousness, willingly. Once we give up our own life, we are reborn. “Whoever loses his life for my sake shall find it.” (Matt. 16:25) We are "reborn". “You must be born again.” (John 3:7) into his perfect self, or born into his one substance with the father. So you can see why this distinguishing factor must exist. The question could be why would we die, to be born in him, if he is just another human being?

There must be something in him that is higher, better, or even perfect for us to want to become like him in our most sacred inner self. “Be ye therefore perfect even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.” (Matt. 5:48) This is why it is not only important but essential that Christ not only be a great guy, etc., etc., but truly be "the son of God", that one substance with the father.

It is God's grace that gives us peace and forgiveness, inner peace. It is perfect, transcendent, consciousness, God, that one substance that we seek in our deepest interior and invite in willingly in order to rest and find comfort.

My Pussycat Hat

The other night I was lying in bed and I thought, I want a pussycat hat. They are cute, and I like the little ears and the pink color. Ok, yes that is frivolous, silly and "girlish”, but that is one part of me. That is not the only part, I am also a strong and powerful woman and am not afraid to roar. Sometimes I meow, or purr too, and sometimes I am silent and just want to curl up on a blanket

or bask in the sun.

I am a woman in all her creative complexity and proud of it. I did not choose to march in the "women's" march on several fronts. I don't feel the same "protests" that many of these women feel, and practically speaking it would have been a lot. Instead I substitute-taught two yoga classes that morning so that another woman could march. So perhaps in my own way I was supporting women by supporting her.

I did feel a sense of disappointment and a tinge of sadness on the way to class that morning. I was listening to NPR and they were talking about the march, and mentioning how there were some divisions in the organization process. There were a group of women who were anti-abortion and wanted to be a part of the march but were banned. Sigh. Later I found out one of the organizers is a Palestinian Muslim woman who proudly wears her hijab (traditionally a sign of submission, not only to God, but also to men) and she is proposing Sharia law for all. She tweets: "Who cares if women do not have the right to drive, when they have ten weeks maternity leave"... I do.

As both a working women of off-hours which also allow me to be a stay at home mom, I can say even one day without my car when it is being serviced, feels unbearable. I like knowing I have the freedom to go and do. I like knowing I am not confined to my home or dependent on another to take me to the store or the gym, or anywhere else I might choose to go, should it spontaneously come to me. The question one might ask is, why not have both?

A yoga teacher of mine several years back once said casually over a meal, when the solution only has two choices, right, wrong, black or white, we can be sure that we are not thinking in God-like terms. Those were not his words exactly, but that was the idea. It struck me at the time and continues to stay with me. I think it is true, and tend to agree. God is love, a creator who creates out of love. His knowledge is that which passes all understanding. Anyone who has been madly in love may have experienced a tinge of that invincible sense when all things feel possible. Love by its very nature is complex and magical, not linear. When we find ourselves saying it must be this way, only this way, or that way, we have limited ourselves. “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4: 13)

I don't agree with this woman, but I think it is fine for her to march and state her views. It seems things have gone askew. If it is a women's march it should be for ALL women period. Women are complex, diverse beings and they should be honored, period. Each individual has their own path and life which leads them day by day, moment by moment to the convictions they hold and the choices they make. Some are sensitive to the earth, the animals. Some will cry save the planet, save the animals, who have no voice. Others will say, save the unborn child, it has not a voice. Some will say I like a gentleman who holds the door, others will call it benevolent sexism and be offended that they are being treated as not able.

In my opinion women must stop being at battle with men, with themselves, with each other and the world. Can it not start with a simple idea: all women are a manifestation of the Divine feminine, all women deserve honor, regardless of the path they are on? Jesus for one understood this. “There is neither Jew nor Greek . . . there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” (Galatians 3: 28)

That is my pussycat hat.

Dying to Be Wrong

We have all heard the expression "dying to be right". People literally do die to be right, or rather because they believe their system of belief, their ideology is indeed the right one, worth fighting for and in fact dying for. That feels extreme, but I think when examined closely it is not so extreme. We are not all brave soldiers willing to give our physical lives, but we are willing to sacrifice our souls. Who has not experienced that moment with a spouse, friend, parent, or colleague when we are one hundred percent convinced that our way is "the right way"? Maybe it's more efficient, more logical, or even conversely more creative, more beautiful. At the end of the day we are right and we know it, and we want to prove it. I think those moments become less about doing something "the right way" than they are about convincing the other of our own rightness. We lose sight of the fact that “There is none righteous, no, not one.” What’s important is “the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ.” (Romans 3: 10, 21).

Sometimes we may secretly wish harm, distress, or difficulty on another so that they will come to recognize how right we are. In the end we ARE willing to die, but not in a good way, and it is sad, very sad. In the end we create suffering both by wishing (yes even unconsciously) ill on another and also by being stuck and hardened by our own righteousness. Our stubborn, grasping self wants to hold on with all our might, our ego wants that empty pat on its forever-yearning-back.

We convince ourselves of how good we are, desperately justifying our falseness to our deeper truth. “I just want them to learn, it is for their own good. If they don't get it now they'll see when...” We go on and on. Somewhere we know, but we don't want to see the truth of our false righteousness. What we really should be yearning for is dying to be wrong. That sweet moment when we let go of our grasping, longing, justifying, fighting, and release. When we can flow freely like a rolling stream around the rocks and through the crevices. When something comes at us that is just a little too different than our way, but we are able to say: “Hmmm, that's interesting, unusual.” Jumping into the unknown with nothing to prove and everything to gain.

Maybe it will take longer or we will even have to do it again. With a moment of pause perhaps we can change our automatic judgment response of correctness, or rightness to one of acceptance. Maybe we could think something like, if it takes longer great more time with a friend. Allow our initial reaction to softly mold to something new. Create a masterpiece in the mind, not a war zone.

When we can change our grabbing into receiving we might possibly gain an unknown gift that will be revealed through the doing, and the letting go. What a blessing when we die to our hardness and find softness. When we replace stubbornness with willingness, understanding, and patience. What are we trying to hold onto anyway? A thought, an idea, suddenly it seems so silly, so intangible...certainly not worth hurting another or our own souls.

Spiritual Bulimia

'Tis the New Year, and many resolutions tend to revolve around food and health changes. Recently at the gym one could notice an unusual crowd. In the sauna I could not help but overhear two very big girls discussing their disgust with themselves for slipping so far off their diets -- "Eating like pigs. It is now time to detox”, they said. The one was informing the other about healthy alternatives and how they are easy to make and delicious too. She clearly had a certain knowledge as to wholesome eating verses empty calories or too many carbs. However, from the looks of her she was still struggling greatly with portion control.

Last summer we had a visit at my in-laws. My mother-in-law said something that struck me, and the sentiment stuck with me. The conversation was around the subject of communion. I do not remember her exact wording, but the idea was one of disdain for other churches that have communion weekly. At first I couldn't quite wrap my mind around why this would bother anyone, but after some time, I think I now grasp the essence of what she was saying, and why for her this was bothersome.

In my in-laws spiritual practice of Christianity, they only take communion once a month. It is a sacred ritual and it is a big deal. They always prepare for each Lord's Day (or Sunday) by bringing their hearts and minds off of earthly pursuits and making it a day of worship and rest. It is not a day of entertainment or shopping after church is over. When a communion Sunday is approaching the preparations are even more diligent. As they approach the sacred ritual, there is an extra keen sense of what the day will bring. It is a time to be sober and quiet in order to receive his gifts of blood and wine and truly embody the deep spiritual significance that this ritual brings with it.

The more I learn and read about rituals, the more my understanding of them shifts. The outward actions are really a mirror for an inner transformation. They can also be seen as a sort of spiritual Tai Chi. You go through the motions, but not like a mindless workout, but rather one with breath and focus and full awareness. The outward actions are done with care and attention for what they represent, then what they represent begins to transform the being who performs them, to a place of communion. It is not meant to be a mere task to be checked off a list, nor to take the place of an addiction in the sense of believing. It is the only way to connect and doing to appease the drive, the obsession. It is not to be motivated by a sensation that was once attained. It is a sacred honor, an act of worship, to be handled with care. I am beginning to see what my mother-in-law was bothered by.

In my family and extended family, I have experienced personally and seen a lot of bulimia or varying forms of eating disorders. One aunt who drinks barely black tea with lemon all day long, occasionally allows herself a yogurt at lunch and then binges at dinner. Some nights are reasonable, and others the hunger takes over and later is the complaining of being bloated, only to start the fast again first thing AM. Another used to run marathons on mustard sandwiches and cough drops, until a nutritionist set her on a better program. My brother was a model of health, a triathlete who ate grape nuts and wasa crackers, but occasionally he would overdo the ice cream and so would visit the bathroom for the purge. One could call it a family curse, a penchant for extreme and obsessive behaviors in regards to food – binging and purging.

I experienced a short bout of traditional bulimia with food as an adolescent. I wanted to look like the models’ bodies I saw in the magazines. This unhealthy eating cycle for me did not last too long. I was thirteen at the time and the household situation was particularly turbulent. Perhaps I was not diligent enough in my bulimia, or my binges were greater than my purges, but basically I did not begin to resemble the models in the magazines. I was still a rather short, very athletic and curvy young lady. I decided to stop one day, my inner self knowing it was not a good thing, and I did.

The body image issues persisted, and perhaps to a much lesser degree at certain vulnerable times still do. I did become quite thin at some point, but not from binging and purging – more from not eating much at all, meticulously counting and measuring calories and exercising (a lot – a whole, whole lot). I was a dancer now, and had the affinity for pale skin and protruding bones, although I do not think it could be categorized as true anorexia. I liked being this thin. I wanted to see bones and muscle, and I did and it felt good. I did not look in the mirror and think I was fat, but nonetheless, it was extreme in its nature and not a healthy nurturing approach to food and body image.

Yes, I have witnessed and participated in different degrees of "eating issues" along with my family. As I go through life I see how this same binge/purge, addictive/obsessive type behavior can manifest in many, many ways and areas. A relative of mine a few years back asked if I had any advice about her daughter who was currently struggling with bulimia. I was not sure exactly how to respond because as I mentioned earlier, I think my case with bulimia was a bit different and mostly short lived. But at the time I advised her to seek out Christ. I wondered subsequently if this felt like an empty response, that maybe she was looking for more practical tips? Today though I think my intuition was right, if understood properly. "Seek Christ and one WILL find" not just him, but the deep spiritual issues that cloud our very way to him. I truly believe that all problems or issues that one struggles with in their nature are spiritual. Perhaps one is hoarding, or stuffing because they have forgotten God's abundance and are living in a mindset of poverty, fear of not having enough, not being enough. Perhaps one is trying to be in "control", unable to trust that all is already perfectly in control and properly guided.

There are so, so very many possibilities, but in the end one truly has to seek within and find where their own fears, lacunas, insecurities exist, and then begin to replace these falsehoods with Truth. Then one's life which is being transformed on the inside will begin to reflect those changes in the outside world. The daily practice of seeking will not only reveal one’s inner state, but also the keys to what needs to shift and why. It may not happen in a day, or a week, or a year, but eventually these subtle shifts begin to manifest and transform our existence. One is being regenerated in his image, because he beholds the image we crave, and no substitution will suffice, nor fill the void.

Wisdom from the Mouth of Babes - Part 2

So the other night I was spending time with P after reading his bedtime story. We were lying on the bed comfortably, our heads touching. And as usual, P had a lot to say. Sometimes P can read my mind. If it had only happened once or maybe even just two or three times, I might put it off to coincidence. But it has happened so very many times that I no longer do. 

I remember reading a book called "Autobiography of a yogi", and in a certain section, the author is speaking about his time in India as a young boy. He was at a boy’s camp, maybe a sort of ashram, and they were forbidden to speak for some time. I don't remember all the details, but it was for more than an hour, probably at least a few days, if not a few weeks. He spoke in his book how initially it was difficult, tempting, and maybe at times frustrating. As time went on though, something amazing happened. The boys began having conversations and communicating without speaking. In other words, they could hear each other’s thoughts and respond in kind.

On this particular evening with P, he seemed to me to be acting a bit odd. It was around the time of the super moon. He had a funny, whimsical grin, as if everything was just a little bit comical, a sort of light-hearted giddiness. I had not noticed this quality in him before. As I lied next to him, I was pondering about going more or totally vegetarian. I have always tried to eat a healthy, varied diet with lots of veggies and fruits, and things that are good for you. At times I have been vegetarian or cut out all meat and just eaten fish. When I have been pregnant, I have generally just eaten what my body craves, and for the most part the same goes for nursing. Since nursing would probably be winding down within the next six or so months, these subjects were on my mind. I had already begun to cut back on the amount of meat, and many days would go by that were already vegetarian.

Suddenly P blurts out: "We should not eat pigs". "Really?", I say, just a little taken aback. “Why not?” He responds: "Because they scream when they die." "How do you know?" "I saw a program on the TV in France." Hmmm OK, "Well, what about cows?" "No." "Chickens?" "No, not chickens either, but fish are ok".

I am amazed. Where is this coming from? He just seems so all-knowing, still with that odd little comical look. Suddenly in an instant he looks like his usual self, he waits just a beat and then blurts out with all the huge emotion of a lion: "But the chicken sandwiches are soooo delicious!!" And there it is, from the mouth of my babe. There are these parts of our being that know what is right and good, what might be the best choices at the right times for our personal health, or perhaps just exercising a higher level of compassion and empathy to the animals or mother earth. And yet our very humanness is tempted to satisfy our base desires, be that physically, or emotionally. Both exist and co-exist and we swing back and forth between our knowing, and our being, and doing. Sometimes we are trying and other times letting go, because after all life is sooooo delicious!

A Modern Feminist's Christian View

The other day Calvin posted this tweet: "I swear to god if Mike Pence tries to regulate my uterus I will mail him a monthly bag of period blood." Wow! OK, breathe. Yes of course in its very nature it is meant to be provocative and shocking. For that end it works. But from a spiritual perspective is it really accomplishing the higher loftier goal that this poor pained woman is trying to achieve? I personally am not so sure. As grieved as I am by the "bad" behavior that this election season has brought forth and the true pain that many are feeling, I cannot help but come back to the same idea. Is the modality for channeling the pain, frustration and outrage the most productive one in achieving the very goal for which one is fighting?

All people experience fear. It may come in different colors, varying degrees and shades. We all face the age old existential dilemma and the very real concrete fear of death. As for this particular blog post, and in regards to the election, people are fearful on both sides, and rightly so, for good reason. We should fear returning to outdated modes of thinking that degrade and suppress a woman's power. We should be wary that if we let in hundreds of thousands of immigrants from societies that do not value the same values we do – e.g., women's rights, or freedom of speech – that there will be real repercussions.

Fear can be a productive catalyst to stand up for what one deems to be right and good. It can propel us to action to stand up for our deepest convictions and be an agent for change. I have friends in Paris who just weeks before the terrorist attacks were at the very restaurant that was hit. These same friends were planning a dinner out that evening and discussed this same restaurant with other friends of theirs (and mine) as a possible choice. Thankfully and perhaps a bit selfishly for me, they chose to eat elsewhere and remained in lockdown behind the closed bars until the wee hours of the morning. They were looking at social media on their phones, monitoring human butchering outside their door steps, for fear of leaving too hastily before the last acts were yet to be done.

I have another set of friends from Paris. They are a gay couple. A few years ago they bought a house in the Northern suburbs of Paris. They fixed up this house with their own hands, making it uniquely their own and turning the house into a home. Several years later this same gay couple told me they were moving. The neighborhood had become populated with people that did not value their secular French values of fraternity, liberty, and égalité. They were afraid for their lives, literally, and chose to move.

I come to see more and more, we are all fighting for the same values. We just prioritize what that means and how it plays out. Things like election season force us to choose between " the lesser of two evils" and so we reach down into the bellies of our core and find what speaks to us the most? How has my walk on this earth led me to the place I am now, why, and what does it all mean?

It just so happens that all of these same friends above would not favor shutting out immigrants, for fear of their own safety. Which is brave and noble indeed. As one friend above put it: "This is about civil rights, rule of law".

This recent Facebook post of this feminist’s tweet, and Calvin's reaction, stirred a discussion among men of varying views and opinions on the subject. Some were fighting for the life of the unborn child, others leaving the choice solely to the woman. The rhetoric from those who wanted this to be only a woman's choice said: “Stay out, this is not our place to say.” Another said: “I really don't know, but I trust that she does.” In other words, our opinion does not matter, for the woman has suffered and deserves to be "honored" at all costs, even if that cost means killing a child. Others chimed back: “No, these are human beings and they are being butchered, how can we make an arbitrary distinction about when it is OK to kill a human being, fine thirty seconds before birth, but not fine thirty seconds after?

Should we not honor our women by protecting them, and caring? Does not this very

language in this tweet say: “I have lost my way and am unable to be trusted?” (I will explain below). They are all valid points, albeit very different. They all care about their wives, sisters, daughters, and mothers.... a lot. These men are discussing civil rights and fighting for them in their own way. Women do not want to be shut down, and neither do men. It is a good and noble thing for a man to want to protect the life and well-being of his unborn child. We as women should not shut him up and down. It is also a good and noble thing for a man to trust a woman with her own freewill, and believe she will do what is right for her body and her life, in other words give her the benefit of the doubt and empower her to "fend for herself".

We live in society, a democracy with rules of law, everyone counts. I have one friend who is a true anarchist, but most people do believe and fight for rule of law. We all value our freewill, and well, we should – it is the gift that God has given us, not only to make choices in our secular daily walk, but also should we hear his call.

My response to this woman's post is one of frustration, and disappointment, and yes shock. In my view, we as women should not take that which is sacred, our own deep feminine nature and unique gifts and abilities as a woman and turn it into something vulgar to be used as a weapon against men who care. This is war, a war of ideologies. And in war we pull out all the stops, we are willing to die. We kill ourselves in order to attain what is deemed a loftier goal. Sometimes we kill ourselves just to be right.

I say let us stop the war and find peace. Let us confront our deepest darkest fears head

on. Let us listen to that small soft voice that whispers our truth, and call out our truths, and may those calls lead to right action. But let us follow Christ and cast out our fear with perfect love. “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear.” (I John 4.18)

Honor the inner, but honor the outer. Honor to All. Sacrificing one for the other is missing the mark, a literal translation of sin, and sin causes death, not life. If we are fighting for our lives, let us fight a battle that can actually be won, not one that is destined to fail at all costs. My pain, is your pain. Pain is pain. Civil rights are civil rights.

Let us not commit spiritual suicide. Let us not quench our deep inner thirsts with vinegar. Rather, “Seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.” (Matt. 6.33)

The Lion and the Lamb

I have a longtime friend. I miss him right now. He is sweet and kind, gentle and funny. Oh sure, he has a witty side and can appreciate a bit of sarcasm and cynicism, but even in his sharpest sting, I feel his love and kindness. I miss him so much. I often think of him as one of the best Christians I know, although he is actually not a practicing Christian. Funny huh? But for me he displays the fruits of the spirit daily. I know he wrestles with darkness and pain, as we all do, but he does not bring his burdens to the world around him. Sometimes he is like one of those large puzzles – you are given a small puzzle piece of his inner being and he is sharing his pain, his struggle. But most times he is walking in joy. He shares his joy, and gives light to your struggles. He is a giver, not a taker; he is grateful when he’s given. He seeks to understand, not be understood; he seeks peace not conflict.

There were times in the past of this long and dear friendship where I have felt frustrated. I wanted more. I wanted to go deeper, dig to the bottom of the well of life and all its complexities. Till the soil of the nitty-gritty, get my hands full of mud and grit to then plant new seeds of understanding. But he would keep things simple and light, unwilling to join me in my digging. I used to think this was cowardice. Alas, time keeps passing and the years go by. The changing seasons have brought grey hairs, lined faces and saggy skin, and hopefully, just hopefully a little bit of wisdom too. I no longer see this unwillingness as cowardice. My eyes have grown weary and my sight has diminished.

At times when I have lost my humor, I feel frustrated that I need my glasses to read the directions on a pizza box. Grrr, argh... What petty annoyances. However, when I step into my older, wiser self, I find humor in the little incontinences (OK, that was actually a typo, but it is so funny I think I will keep it!). Yes, that too, childbearing is brutal. I mean, inconveniences, and now see my dear old friend as bravery and courage, but of a different kind. It takes a brave soldier, carrying their pack of personal trauma on their backs, to leave that for later, to trust that it will eventually be resolved at a later date. For now, the priority is to selflessly be there for the other. Trust in the unknown of a date or time, trust that all will be well. Now is the time to focus on the urgency to serve.

I know for a fact this friend received arrows in his life, not only from the outside world, but by his own nearest and dearest family and friends. He is exemplary of the courage of the lamb; he may be slaughtered, but he will not die. He is alive and well and doing his perfect work in the world.

Admittedly most of my other dear friends are lions. I love my lion friends because they too are brave and courageous as lions are; however, it is of another sort. They are also warm and nurturing. They may be lions, but they are also mamma bears. They have big hearts and are kings of the jungle. They are proud by nature, but this pride propels them into the world to fight for others. They will protect what they deem as right and true and rip to shreds the poor prey that walks in their path. Their hunger is righteousness, and they will pull out all the stops to achieve their lofty and noble goals. They too are soldiers, but of a different kind. They are the great protectors of mankind. I am still learning about my lion friends, and it has taken time to understand them also and their unique role and pride.

I was in a yoga class years ago, and the subject of ego came up from the teacher. She said the ego is a good thing. I had a moment of pause. Hmmm....I thought that the ego was a bad thing, that we were to aim to eradicate our ego for higher principles? Aren't we supposed to be egoless, enlightened beings? I am confused. She went on to explain that the ego propels us to do things, to accomplish things, and that is not a bad thing; it is there for a very real and good purpose. It is in the things that we do, propelled by our egos, that we learn and grow and ultimately walk through this life gaining the perspectives and wisdom that each of is here to gain. I think it has taken time to sink in, but I can today say: I get it.

As I look back and reflect on my life, I can see this to be so true. I thought at the time I was just doing this or that, perhaps following a desire, or a heart-led action of what I felt I wanted or "needed" to do at that time. Now I can see the bigger picture, I can see the greater purposes in the paths I walked and how they led me to the pearls of wisdom that I now possess. Hindsight is indeed twenty-twenty.

A powerful healer friend of mine told me that when we use phrases like "I need" that might be a clue that it is our ego speaking. So listen extra closely, our ego can and does indeed propel us to the things we are called to be and do. I would also say take heed to not bow down solely to our egos, for they can indeed lead us astray. There is a reason the ego gets a bad rap. It is a tightrope and a balancing act, or as our Lord says:

“Enter by the narrow gate. For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.”

Sometimes clarity comes in an instant, and sometimes it takes years and years. Sometimes it is there for an instant and then gone. Sometimes when we let go completely and trust, it stays and seems effortless. I have an aria that I have been working on by Mozart for almost twenty years, yeah no lie. It's been said that Mozart did not like women. Anyone who knows his music knows his cunning sense of humor. It is said that when he had a particularly proud diva, he would purposely write near impossible, yet exquisitely beautiful pieces for them to sing. In my own experience with this particular aria, this has been my experience. I have turned this piece into more of a vocal exercise, but every now and again I pull it out and am on occasion asked to sing it. It brings up all my fears and worst vocal enemies, but I also love it deeply. I have nailed this piece maybe a couple of times when all the stars aligned. It demands extreme focus, steadiness of breath, depth of emotion, without going over the top – and for me, a great, great deal of trust and letting go. I try not to get discouraged. Even a world renowned musician who works with the very top singers in the world has said that he has heard it crash and burn at the Bastille (one of the best opera houses in the world). He then adds the added pressure of saying that I have the right voice and tools to do it perfectly. It is a hit or miss aria, a tightrope to be sure. Mozart may have been many things, but no one can argue his musical genius. Within his genius I continue to find more pearls of wisdom.

The lion and the lamb, two very different approaches, both valuable and wise. I think I have grown in understanding about the meaning of the lion and the lamb and their lying down in peace someday. This is in part by my dear friends and for them I am ever grateful.

The World's Gone Mad Part 3

The book of Revelation in the Bible is a bit of a mystery to most who are familiar with it and probably unfamiliar to many. I took a Bible study on Revelation a couple years ago. It is filled with vivid imagery of the "end times" when all humanity comes face to face with the great Creator and Lord of life. He is here to judge and make right all that is wrong. There will be a new world, and it will be glorious. But, the reckoning is intense and scary. Some might liken it to a "bad acid trip".

Some people view the Bible literally and some metaphorically. The Bible as a whole is designed to operate in different ways. Some parts are historical, some metaphorical, some allegorical, and some parts, "the voice of the people from time immemorial." The Psalms, in particular, speak to the deep realm and spectrum of emotions and human experience.

For me whether you take the bible literally or metaphorically is really a moot point. Let me explain. From a Yogic perspective our inner world shapes our outer world. In other words, our own perspective shapes our reality. As our perspective begins to broaden, so does our understanding of the events around us. In my opinion our feelings are a mere key to inform us of our own perspective. Our feelings can shape our thoughts, and our thoughts create our reality. What we think matters – a lot. “As a man thinks in his heart, so is he.” This is warning not only to our words and actions, but taking it down to the core, changing not just the outer man, but the deep, deep inner man. This is one of the reasons I reject the notion (from part one of this blog series) that our feelings are of supreme importance and deserve to dictate at all costs. I think it is a step in the wrong direction, a diving into sickness at all costs – all the while justifying the decent all the way down the rabbit hole.

Think Dante's Inferno. Allow me to clarify. Feelings are important, they inform. We should honor them as the sacred messengers who are informing us of our own deepest prejudices, wounds, and places where we are "stuck". Should we stifle them, repress them, shut them down, and up, just move on? Of course not. Should we wallow in them, make them the only thing that really matters, allow them to dictate our truth and shape reality? No, of course not. “There is a time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance.” In other words, acknowledge them, honor them, explore them for the end goal of moving on and through. Everybody has their journey in this thing called life.

I cannot answer the questions of why I am " white privilege" and do not deal with the plight of racism. Whether a person of color experiences "real" or perceived racism, the feelings of pain are the same. I do not need to try to enter into their deep well of experience and convince them that what they feel is only a perception and not reality as they feel it. It is not my "job". My "job" on this planet as a spiritual being is to be a human being and show them empathy, kindness, compassion and ultimately love. This is what our Lord Christ taught as Truth incarnate, as well as a human being.

Getting closer to being walking Truth makes us more human, not less. If this same person comes to me asking for my perspective, I might step into one of the many roles I play in this walk called life (a friend, a teacher, a nurturing mother, a sister, etc.) and show them my perspective on the situation. Perhaps, if it is the right time, and place and situation, this wounded soul will be able to open a window to a new reality that is broader and kinder, a healing balm. It may well be that the situation they confronted is "true racism". There are “people that walk in darkness", like those who are racist from their own deep fallenness, But for the person who is confronting that, when their own inner wound has been healed and they know on a cellular level that they are not less than, these things will not affect them, or at least in the same way as before. It will no longer be putting salt on a wound, but rather a more tempered and legitimate, manageable reaction. Their core will not kick into panic in "fight or flight mode", but rather they will hear, see, and experience the situation much more objectively because they know the Truth. They may feel sadness for the fallen man, or man's darkness. After all, Christ sweat tears of blood in the garden of Gethsemane and experienced great sorrow for the state of mankind. This is part of the human experience, but he "did not take it personally".

So it all comes back to the basic question: Is there such a thing as objective reality or Truth? And if so, how can we embrace that objective reality and not fall into the trap of being convinced that our subjective perceptions are reality as it is. For me the answer lies in coming back daily to that objective Truth and then measuring that against what is felt and perceived. I was at a heart opening conference at the Himalayan Institute a couple years ago. We were handed out a sheet with some texts from the Ancient Indian scriptures (the Bhagavad Gita) as well as some quotes from the Bible. We started as a group to "work through" these texts, and there were especially strong rejection reactions when we came to Isaiah 45: 6-7: “There is none besides me; I am the LORD, and there is no other. I form light and create darkness, I make well-being and create calamity, I am the LORD, who does all these things.” This was followed on the page by Augustine’s interpretation:

All that happens to us in this world against our will (whether due to me or to other causes) happens to us only by the will of God, by the disposal of Providence, by His orders and under His guidance; and if from frailty of our understanding we cannot grasp the reason for some event, let us attribute it to divine Providence, show Him respect by accepting it from His hand, and believe firmly that He does not send it to us without cause.

“All that happens…” People were mad, even hostile. Some of the responses were: "That sounds just like the fundamentalist garbage I grew up with", "What about the poor, the needy the sick, the wars, the list goes on and on....????" Our master responded calmly. And being a master the tone and sea of emotions were calmed in an instant. He responded empathetically (hint hint) and said these are such noble pursuits and feelings (being concerned, wanting to change these situations) and softly went on.

I went to another conference at the institute where Swami Rama was teaching from a video (which had been taken before his death). He spoke about the book of Revelation. From his great wisdom and Yogic perspective, this is an inner experience that one has when they are able to pass from the depths of their fallenness into the fullness of Christ (he did not use those exact words, but that is my understanding) – when the last bit of Maya (illusion, darkness) has the light of Truth shined in its face.

Now weeks after the election people are still spinning. As I have heard so many times from different people, PC has gone out the window. For so very many salt is being poured on people's deep wounding. The fallen nature has reared its darkness and "it ain't pretty".

What I do know to be my personal truth and present perception is that this is not in the end about whether Donald Trump or HRC is president, but rather that there is a much greater plan at work by our Creator that will play out as it is meant to play out.

I had a conversation a few years back when I was in Yoga teacher training with my teacher of that course. I explained my own existential dilemma about my "role" in life. I have followed my heart and have been an artist, a mother, a teacher, a yogi, but are these my true calling? Should I be doing more for the state of humanity? Is there something bigger, something better that I should try to do and be? Her answer to me was so simple and so very helpful. She said your job is to do your daily practice. I can tell you, this changed my life and lined up the order of importance of my being.

Come to the Lord daily, consistently with seeking and He will guide your path. "Seek and ye shall find.” I did not have to suffer endless hours of questioning, tugging back and forth with this and that. Most times we over-complicate things so much. Being simple can seem to be so very complex. Time to follow the Nike slogan and "Just do it." What a burden lifted off my shoulders that I was carrying, when it needed only to be handed over to Him. I do not have to figure it all out, just like I do not have to be the moral judge of the world. That is his job, and he does it perfectly. The world we look at might not always seem so, but look very closely: Is that Him, or is that fallen man?

Come back to nature and see his perfect creation, and beauty. The Creator creates out of love, for that is his very nature. So "be ye therefore perfect even as the Father". Be love, be empathy, be compassion. Discard your fallen nature, gently, and embrace your divine nature daily. The end.