Remembering

Three years ago today, my mother passed away quietly after her breakfast at the skilled nursing facility. She had only been there a week and was recovering from what we suspected was a small stroke.

When someone as close as a mother dies, the experience is so alive with sensations and emotions and babbling in your mind. Everything is somehow larger than life. Charged with such intense emotion, details of the moment are vivid and crystal clear. As time passes, the intensity softens a bit, but always when the memory arises, that clarity and pure awareness remains.

The photo is of a Rose-of-Sharon given to me by several friends at the time of mom's death. They told me it was chosen because it blooms in mid-July and they wanted something that would remind me of her each year at this time. It is a fitting tribute to her. It started as a small bush and struggled to survive for two years. The landscape designers wanted to replace it, but I said "No."

This year it is in full bloom, even with the hot, dry summer we are having!. As I tend the garden throughout the year, I am reminded of her. It sways in the winds and endures the rain, cold and snow. Yet it continues to grow and blossom and become rooted in the Illinois soil.

There is a poem from John O'Donohue that speaks to what I feel this morning. Here is just a portion of it...


On the Death of the Beloved

Though we cannot see you with outward eyes,
We know our soul's gaze is upon your face,
Smiling back at us from within everything
To which we bring our best refinement.

Let us not look for you only in memory,
Where we would grow lonely without you.
You would want us to find you in presence,
Beside us when beauty brightens,
When kindness glows
And music echoes eternal tones...

Barriers within...

Your task is not to seek for love

but merely to seek and find
all the barriers within yourself
that you have built against it.
                              ~Rumi

Like the thistle, I have always had little thorns surrounding me. They are so small you might miss them. They are there to protect me from hurt and disappointment and rejection. Seems like it take a lifetime to just begin to notice how these thorns are really barriers stopping the flow of love. All the time I thought I was loving, maybe it really was barrirers built against that flow that gives the illusion of unworthiness, sadness or rejection.


The thistle is such a beautiful wildflower ~ soft and spacious ~ tiny, slender petals of just the lightest lavender reaching for the sun and bursting with such gladness.

Exhale Only Love

Exhale only love.
~ Rumi


Sometimes wisdom comes in three words or less...

The Call

This is what it means to answer the call, to commit to being here in a human life, as a human being: 

to love what is mortal, 

to love what is unpredictably changing & impermanent, 

to love while being mindful that everything, 
every person, every place, every moment we love will change & pass, 
but to love anyway. 

And to love what you love fiercely, no holds barred, nothing held back, 
knowing that the reality of who & what you are here & now 
as a human being is inseparable from this world, 
this life you claim & inhabit fully.

                                               ~ Oriah Mountain Dreamer, from The Call


There's a fierceness, a fiery passion in what is spoken here. It takes commitment to live each moment in authenticity. To love life, each moment and each person, including oneself, seems an impossible task. Yet there are glimspes, flashes, moments where this is unmistakably experienced. And the peace that comes in those moments is beyond verbal expression. 

We Are All Connected...

Everything that is in the heavens,
on the earth and under the earth
is penetrated with connectedness,
is penetrated with relatedness."

                           ~Hildegard of Bingen


Along the jetties at Venice beach these birds gang out together. Very entertaining, they gracefully fly over the water, then meet on the wooden railing to dance and chat with each other. They seem to know that everything in their world is connected. They seem content, curious, happy. Perhaps they are just a reflection of my own thoughts.


A warm sunny spring day in Florida makes it easy to dissolve into the connectedness of the universe. Sand between my toes grounds me. Blue water reminds me to flow with each moment. The sun energizes and ignites my spirit and imagination. The gentle breeze whispers "all is well."


The ancient wisdom from all cultures reminds us everything is connected. We are all One.

Look Inside Yourself...

I've been looking for a long, long time,
for this thing called love,
I’ve ridden comets across the sky,
and I’ve looked below and above.
Then one day I looked inside myself,
and this is what I found,
A golden sun residing there,
beaming forth God’s light and sound.

                                            - Rumi

It's easy to forget that golden sun at times when life seems to be less than wonderful. But if somehow we can find a way to move inward, we feel the warmth and glow of this essence. Rumi certainly knew this place well and shared his wisdom every chance he could. Thousands of poems have been credited to him, and the inner journey he takes his reader on is always to this place. 

My Daughter

And so to these


unspoken shadows


and this broad night


I make


a quiet


request


to the


great parental


darkness


to hold her


when I cannot,


to comfort her


when I am gone,


to help her learn


to love


the unknown


for itself,


to take it


gladly


like


a lantern


for the way


before her,


to help her see


where ordinary


light will not help her,


where happiness has fled,


where faith


will not reach.

~David Whyte

I'd like to share just a portion of the poem, a prayer really, written by David Whyte to his daughter. It expresses my deepest wish for my daughter's spiritual nurturing. 

Thirty years ago, my life changed in ways never imagined. My daughter, Amanda, was born and with her came untold joy, amazement, and, of course, challenge. I don't know if we are born with the seed of becoming a mother or not, but Amanda brought such love and laughter, along with tears and struggles, that I became her protector, nurturer, guide, and teacher. I became her mother. I didn't always know what might be best, but I was open to that great parental spirit to show me the way. Mistakes most likely have been made through the years and with them great lessons. So, it has always been with great love and devotion that I have stood with her as she found her own way. She shines brightly each day and moves through life with courage and grace. 

Happy birthday to my daughter ~ a joy, a miracle ~ quite simply a remarkable young lady!

Life is...

Life is like arriving late for a movie, having to figure out what was
going on without bothering everybody with a lot of questions, and
then being unexpectedly called away before you find out how it
ends.

                                                                 ~Joseph Campbell

Do you ever feel like this? I am notorious for wanting to ask questions during a movie and my husband has threatened more than once to go alone rather than endure my endless inquisitiveness. But lately I've been content to watch life unfold with curiosity and childlike wonder. There is no explanation for this change in attitude. Life truly is a great mystery. Will I be called away before discovering the ending? I know not, but maybe it's OK to just enjoy the moment. I think that is the only place to find joy, love, and peace.

Forgive the Dream

All your images of winter
I see against your sky.

I understand the wounds
That have not healed in you.

They exist
Because God and Love
Have yet to become real enough

To allow you to forgive
The dream.

You still listen to an old alley song
That brings your body pain;

Now chain your ears
To His pacing drum and flute.

Fix your eyes upon
The magnificent arch of His brow

That supports
And allows this universe to expand.

Your hands, feet, and heart are wise
And want to know the warmth
Of a Perfect One's circle.

A true saint
Is an earth in eternal spring.

Inside the veins of a petal
On a blooming redbud tree

Are hidden worlds
Where Hafiz sometimes
Resides.

I will spread
A Persian carpet there
Woven with light.

We can drink wine
From a gourd I hollowed
And dried on the roof of my house.

I will bring bread I have kneaded
That contains my own
Divine genes

And cheese from a calf I raised.

My love for your Master is such
You can just lean back
And I will feed you
This truth:

Your wounds of love can only heal
When you can forgive
This dream.

~Hafiz

Hafiz does it again. Words that touch so far into the depths of my unconscious mind. What is this mystery that brings joy and sadness, pain and pleasure, winter and summer, hard and soft? Grace has brought me to a point of stillness, able to gaze upon ~
                   The magnificent arch of His brow
                   That supports
                   And allows this universe to expand.

The wounds exist because love is not real enough to allow the healing. Reading this takes me back to places I don't want to be; to pain I no longer feel. And yet, if the experiences never existed, I would not be here in the moment. Resting on a carpet of light, encirlced in the warmth of just being.

Rivers of Light

I hear bells ringing that no one has shaken,
inside "love" there is more joy than we know of,
rain pours down,
although the sky is clear of clouds,
there are whole rivers of light...
                                                       - Kabir

Why is it in winter, light is so much in my mind's eye. The mystics equate love and light and why not. This image of Kabir's "rivers of light" pouring through the sky to earth is majestic. It's so comforting to rest in this place of "bells ringing that on one has shaken."

The morning silence brings a deep sense of Presence and I let go of all the ways my mind keeps me small. I move inside love to find that joy ~ timeless, ageless, just being...

Mothers

What is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?
That which is you dwells above the mountain and roves with the wind.
It is not a thing that crawls into the sun for warmth 
or digs holes into darkness for safety,
But a thing free, a spirit that envelops the earth and moves in the ether.
~Kahlil Gibran ~ 

Another mother has passed on ~ into the great mystery. My lifelong friend, Douy called yesterday to tell me. She asked that I attend the funeral in her stead as she is halfway across the country and cannot return.

What is it about certain people that when we meet there is a "knowing?" It is rare indeed to find others to whom we can so entirely be ourselves. People with whom we are so comfortable it feels safe to just be.

It is a testament to Evelyn that she provided the space for Douy to feel safe, accepted, and loved through all the years since they met. In high school, over 40 years ago, Douy needed a mother's love and acceptance. She found it in two women, both mothers. Her boy friend's and her best friend's.

My mother also opened her heart to Douy in those days so long ago. The amazing thing is that once opened, their hearts continued to hold and nurture her. Time moves us through the stages of our lives, but relationships sparked by knowing are timeless.

Women from that generation, born before the Great Depression and young adults during the Great War (WWII) are slowing passing on from our lives. Evelyn was 92. Although I didn't know her, I sense she was a great lady.

I am honored to be touched by the spirit and energy of these women. I hold them and Douy and all of their loved ones in my heart ~ that vast open spaciousness out of which all arises and dissolves.

See All the Love

My Guitar Gently Weeps


I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping
While my guitar gently weeps 

I look the floor and I see it need sweeping 

Still my guitar gently weeps 

I don't know why nobody told you 

how to unfold your love 

I don't know how someone controlled you 

they bought and sold you 

I look at the world and I notice it's turning 

While my guitar gently weeps 

With every mistake we must surely be learning 

Still my guitar gently weeps 

I don't know how you were diverted 

you were perverted too 

I don't know how you were inverted 

no one alerted you 

I look at you all see the love there that's sleeping 

While my guitar gently weeps 

I look at you all 

Still my guitar gently weeps 

~George Harrison~

I love the Beatles! When I was young, they were so amazing, opening my heart and mind. George was always my favorite, especially after he showed his interest in spiritual things.  I remember sitting with huge earphones under our stereo which was suspended from the ceiling in our family room listening to this and other songs that touched my heart in ways I had never imagined. 


Now some forty years later,  I'm sitting with my MacBook wondering... why nobody told us how to unfold our love... see the love there that sleeping... with every mistake we must surely be learning.


Love really is all there is.

Anniversaries

For Marriage

As spring unfolds the dream of the earth,

May you bring each other’s hearts to birth.

As the ocean finds calm in the view of land

May you love the gaze of each other’s mind.

As the wind arises free and wild,

May nothing negative control your lives.

As kindly as the moonlight might search the dark,

So gentle may you be when light grows scarce.

As surprised as the silence that music opens,

May your words for each other be touched with reverence.

As warmly as the air draws in the light,

May you welcome each other’s every gift.

As elegant as dreams absorbing the night,

May sleep find you clear of anger and hurt.

And as twilight harvests the day’s colors,

May love bring you home to each other.

~  John O’Donohue ~

One of the happiest days of my life was three years ago today, when I witnessed my baby girl marry the love of her life. There is something so magical about Love. It contagious and everyone feels it. It brings a spaciousness, an openness, a deep sense of well being. It might last a few hours, days, years or a lifetime; whatever time you are immersed in it, be grateful. 


Love doesn't ever go away, but the feeling usually fades in and out.  I can't help be think it has to do with us rather than with Love.  For isn't Love all there is? Isn't it always here? Aren't we always steeping in it? It's just we aren't always open to it...


Happy anniversary to a very special couple! May Love bring you home to each other for many, many more years...

The Moon

At night, I open the window

and ask the moon

to come and press its face 

against mine.

Breathe into me.

Close the language door and open the love window.

The moon won't use the door, only the window.

~ Rumi ~

It's the new moon; a time when the moon is not visible in the sky. Yet it is a very precious time to connect with the moon's energy. It is a beginning and as such offers the chance to plant seeds for fruition at a later time. Intriguingly, it is said that this new moon in Cancer offers energy to release attachment to outcomes. Moving deep into the heart space with loving kindness and trust, courage to be who we truly are is found. Recognizing our true nature comes from closing the language-door and opening the love-window.

Rozella

Yesterday was my mother-in-law's birthday. She would have been 92. She loved being born on St. Patrick's Day! I don't think she was Irish, but the huge March 17th celebration was embraced with total abandon.  I've never known anyone who received as many birthday cards - well over 100!


The thing about her was that she just had this indomitable spirit. She never wanted to admit she couldn't do something. She rode her bike 7-10 miles a day until she was 84. The only reason she stopped was because she fell and her doctor advised her not to ride anymore. She grew up in a small Indiana town and listening to stories of her youth reminded me of the novel, "Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe."


She lived in Florida for her retirement years, nearly 30. She absolutely loved the sunshine! When we visited her, she was like a little kid, giggling and excited to have us. We met her friends and toured all the local spots with her. So many warm memories...


She had many, many friends from all over the country and for years they corresponded by letter. She loved getting all those letters and then she'd worry about responding to everyone. It was hard to watch as her ability to write began to wane.


When she decided to move from Florida to be near us, we didn't realize her forgetfulness was early stages of Alzheimer's. The dread disease crept into her brain and stole her memories, first just little things like forgetting the laundry. But later in a most cruel way, she forgot almost everything. 


Visiting her was so difficult at the end, I think in part, because it brings you face to face with your own aging, your own failing memory, your own fears. Often I would just sit with her, just feel her love and send her love. It was so important to us to be with her even though she may not have remembered who we were. I will always believe that she knew the love we shared and was comforted by it. We miss her...
 

Mysteries, Yes

 

Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous
to be understood.

 

How grass can be nourishing in the
mouths of the lambs.
How rivers and stones are forever
in allegiance with gravity
while we ourselves dream of rising.
How two hands touch and the bonds
will never be broken.
How people come, from delight or the
scars of damage,
to the comfort of a poem.

 

Let me keep my distance, always, from those
who think they have the answers.

 

Let me keep company always with those who say
"Look!" and laugh in astonishment,
and bow their heads.

 

~ Mary Oliver ~