Tag: inspiration

Praying for Rain

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“Let me not pray to be sheltered from dangers but to be fearless in facing them.” – Rabindranath Tagore

My friend, Mindy, told me this story about her son when he was about 6 or 7-years-old. It was the beginning of the school year and her son didn’t want to have to sit next to Henry in school. He came up with the idea to pray about it. The next day after her son came home from school, Mindy asked him whether or not he had to sit next to Henry. He replied, “Of course not, I prayed about it.”

I was reminded of this story the other day when my daughter was looking for her kinetic sand and said she’d prayed to God that she’d find it. I knew I’d thrown the kinetic sand out so no praying would help! I threw it out because I’d been praying not to have that stuff all over the floor and I knew how to make that happen. 😊 But it also made me think about my relationship to prayer.

The longer I live the less I know what to pray for. As our overall human and my individual scientific understanding of our world has grown, I’ve found it precludes praying for anything that I know how it works. And the more that I think I’m in control of my life, the less that I pray for things like money or even happiness.

So as I summon my centeredness and quiet as I meditate, I find myself instead praying more for a feeling and connection to the Divine. Praying for a voice that speaks kindness, a heart that serves from its depth and a mind that is childlike enough to search for mystery. I pray for an acceptance of things how they are and eyes to discovery the delight in it all. I pray for arms that are tender enough to hold everyone that I encounter during the day. I pray for ears that are open to listening and a patience to do it without judgment. I pray for a curious nose that can draw me to the sweet smelling things around me. I pray for a feeling of grace so that I face the day from my depths instead of my human fragility. I pray for feet that will guide me to my individual path that I should be walking and the courage to do it.

This weekend my daughter was praying for rain. I thought that one was likely to pan out given the forecast but it turned out that she was praying for rain right at that instant. So I shook the wet tree branch that she and my son were standing under and we laughed and laughed. Then when it really rained, we ran around, jumped in puddles, held our umbrellas upside down and sang. That turned out to be exactly what we all were praying for.

Big, Scary Dreams

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“The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams.” – Eleanor Roosevelt

I got this fortune cookie “If your dreams don’t scare you, they are not big enough” when I was waiting on the results of my first ultrasound for my 2nd child. Since I’d undertaken the whole parenting endeavor intentionally as a single person, I could definitely attest that I was scared.

I carried in my purse all through that pregnancy and now it’s taped to my cupboard. I know that I’m not the only parent to wonder now that I have kids, do I still have the right to dreams that scare me?

A Show of Character

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“Your life is your message to the world. Make sure it’s inspiring.” – unknown

Twenty years ago I was climbing in Mexico when a guide told me a story about an exclusive Colorado ski resort that he worked at in the winter. The only way to get to the lodge was by sno-cat so they limited the clients to only one bag. On one trip, a customer had his bag and his guitar case and they politely reminded him it was only one bag. The guy had no problem accepting that policy and returned the guitar to his car. It was only later that they realized the guy was James Taylor!

That story is so much better than if they’d let him have the guitar! After all, I’m sure it would have been a wonderful concert but we wouldn’t have learned anything about James Taylor’s character. And it wouldn’t have reminded us that sometimes life doesn’t go our way – and then it becomes part of our story.

A Legacy of Love

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“Legacy is planting trees under whose shade you will never sit.” – Richard Leon

I went to a dinner last night to honor a foundation my dad started 25 years ago. The foundation takes any money bequeathed in wills to the church he was pastor of and gives out grants to deserving organizations. The one they featured last night was a non-profit that helps with refugee settlement and combats the trafficking of children.

Sitting there listening to the work of my dad’s legacy, I pondered what the echo of our lives is when we die. Certainly the love and memories we have made lingered in the hearts and minds of the people we love but beyond that, is there anything else? I’ve helped build a few Habitat for Humanity homes – does that make any difference? What about words? Books? Blog posts?

Thinking about my dad’s quote above, we can plant trees under whose shade we will never sit. Presumably that means that there will be more oxygen to breathe, comfort on the hot days, possibly even food to eat for the people we leave behind and for our communities. We can plant and contribute to organizations and ideas that help ameliorate the pain in the world. And my dad did. But where does that mean my work as his daughter begins?

Someone in the room last night asked for a member of our family to speak. As the youngest child, I assumed it would be my brother or my mom since they’ve always done the talking but it turned out they nominated me. Without any preparation of what to say, I started with the depth, faith and the love that my dad started in me and how that fire still burns. In fact, it feels as if I have come to embody my dad even more in his absence than I ever did when he was alive, in search of God, kindness and love. We do pass a torch to the next generation and I think it’s in the form of the fires we light within other people. It’s not as quantifiable as money left to a foundation but it’s just as powerful.

Pass On the Sugar Please

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“The most difficult thing is the decision to act, the rest is merely tenacity.” – Amelia Earhart

When a friend recently complimented on pulling off two birthday parties for my daughter in one weekend (trying to keep numbers low), she said, “I don’t know how you do it.” And I thought to myself “I know how – a whole lot of sugar!”

I have a serious sugar addiction. When my meditation teacher did a really restrictive purge of sugar a few years back, I wondered why in the heck would a person want to do that. Because it’s just sugar. It doesn’t make me irresponsible, impair my ability to operate any machinery, or steal in order to afford it. Right? I was so proud that I’d gotten off the dangerous train of drinking too much wine that I thought there was no way I’d start limiting my sugar.

But I’m 52 years old, have had two c-sections in the last 6 years, my knees and my hips hurt and I want to live longer enough to see my kids have kids – unless they wait as long as I did to have kids and then I have no prayer of that!. And not only do I want to live that long, I want to do it being as active and comfortable as possible. I’m not likely to climb any big mountains soon but I’d like to rock climb, hike, bike and run around with my kids!

So for the past 2 weeks I’ve stopped eating foods with added sugar and also given up Diet Coke. Initially I had a persistent headache that wouldn’t stop until I drank enough water to make it through. But I’ve also slept better, had more consistent energy, and been less achy. I love candy and I feel like Diet Coke is the drink of gods. But when I crash after having either, I’m starting to recognize it’s not worth it.

There’s a little voice inside me that whispers, “You are going to give up something else?” It’s that self-indulgent, whiny presence that wants to frame change as if I am losing something and when I listen to it, I stay stuck. But when I listen to the centered voice that rings of Truth, I find the wisdom that with change comes the gift of freedom.

Now I’m finally understanding why my meditation teacher did the sugar purge. Because if I’m going to sit and listen deeply, I also need to pay attention to the signals my body is sending me. Sometimes I hate awareness but it always gets me somewhere worth going…

Ride the Wave

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“You can’t stop the waves but you can learn to surf.” – Jon Kabat-Zinn

I started meditating this morning and instead of bringing me peace, more and more fears popped up. Fear of my son’s transition to a new classroom and teachers at school. Fear for how the mornings and evenings would go for me as I try to support him through it and get him to eat, sleep and change diapers. Fear of whether his little friend at school was still enrolled. Fear about whether my fellow carpoolers would remember that it was early release for our daughters at school today and pick them up on time.

Sometimes meditation uncovers crap that I’d prefer to leave boxed up.

I sat on my meditation cushion just trying to observe the fears as they popped up. Soon I was just pouring with sweat and sitting in an uncomfortable heap. But after a few minutes, maybe five or maybe ten, I ran out of worries. All of a sudden I realized I could hear my neighbor’s fountain in their back yard and then I opened my eyes and the sun was coming up. Everything, including me, felt sunnier.

Life keeps teaching me not to interrupt the natural cycles. By letting my worries and fears pop themselves up and wear themselves out til I was empty, I naturally filled back up with faith. Leaning into the process and sweating it out, I am learning to ride the wave instead of fighting the current. My younger self fought the current the whole way insisting on keeping the worries on the inside, the sunniness on the outside and being enervated by the battle the whole day long. But I’ve found when I ride the wave, sooner or later, I am delivered back to solid ground where I continue on with the day, surprisingly refreshed.

Love Language

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“At some point, you have to realize that some people can stay in your heart but not your life.” – Sandi Lynn

“I probably won’t see you tomorrow,” my friend Rachel text me, “I’ve got this door project with my dad.” Reading that, I felt a deep ache for my dad because doing projects with him is one of the things I miss most. My family’s love language is projects. I know that’s not exactly one of the five from the love languages book but it’s some combination of acts of service and spending time together combined with getting stuff done!

Our project time was when we got to hang out without great pressure to talk and go to the neighborhood hardware store to get something and chat with all the folks that worked there (I think if my dad hadn’t chosen to be a pastor, he would have loved to be a hardware store guy). I miss the way I always learned some little trick from Dad and most of all the way we’d envision what we were doing together and my dad would throw his arm around me and say, “It’s going to be great, Kid.”

Even though he died unexpectedly in a bike accident, he left me with a list of things we’d always do this time of year. Seal the grout in the tiles we put up along the sides of my driveway, clear the drain field at the base of my driveway, and stain the deck. I do these things and feel my dad with me. We did these things together so many times that I can practically hear his light banter and feel his joie de vie. In fact I went into the hardware store yesterday and Marty, the guy that always consulted with us on projects, was there and I felt this shiver pass through like my dad was right there with me.

Since he’s not here, I do the next best thing and teach my kids the family love language. I’m amazed that the longer he is gone, I don’t miss him less, I just become him more. As we clean the drain field, I can practically hear my dad laughing with my son as he tries to use the cordless drill to get the screws out. I channel his oohing and aahing with my daughter as she pulls out the worms and slugs that having been living in the rich dirt that collected in the drain. He might not be here but this must be the way that love and warmth are passed from generation to generation. We remember the things they love, feel the glow of being together and then pass the spirit on.

It’s going to be great, Kids!

Dare to Dream

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“Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.” – Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

I had three days this past week where both of my kids were at school/daycare. Do you know what I did? Nothing. Well, not nothing exactly.

I allowed myself to believe that we could start to find a regular routine for school and work.

I relaxed that core part of my body that has been holding me upright for 18 months as I’ve been afraid that if I didn’t stand tall my little family would crumble.

I breathed in to the space created by being able to give up the jobs of teacher, school janitor, lunch lady, PE coach, and school social coordinator for a 6-year-old.

I dared to dream that I might have some energy left for me to grow as we return to more normal days.

Like famed psychiatrist and author Dr. Scott Peck answered when asked how he gets so much done – “it’s because I spend two hours a day doing nothing.” I suspect doing nothing looks different for every person – meditating, reading, praying, playing but out of it comes a renewed spirit.

I think of all the hard times I’ve gone through – divorce, grief, sickness, this pandemic and how there’s an inflection point where all of a sudden I realize that I’m through it. Not that I believe that this pandemic is done, especially because my kids are not yet eligible to be vaccinated and not the day-to-day was bad. It’s just that I was holding back a little reserve in order to gut it out.

When I first started mountain climbing, a guide taught me how to pressure breathe. To breathe out so forcefully that all the stale air in the lungs is expelled and it is possible to take a full inhale. The last three days feel like one big pressure breath, an exhale so powerful that I feel invigorated by all the fresh air I was able to breathe in.

And all that extra energy reminded me that it’s been a long time since I believed that I could really dream about what else is possible in my life. That’s what I did for the last 3 days – dreamed big, audacious dreams.

Negotiating Inner Peace

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“The hurrier I go, the behinder I get.” – unknown

Yesterday I was trying to read my meditation books to start the day. In one there was a poignant passage about all the past leading to now and the future proceeding from this here but all we have is the one golden moment of today. In another, it was about pausing to appreciate our accomplishments. And the third was about setting forth into the world with the intent to unify and belong instead of to conquer and thereby treading a gentler path through life.

All I could think was “I don’t have time for this sh!t! I’ve got to get stuff done!” It started this internal dialogue that went like this:

[Practical Me] Really beautifully written messages but sometimes I just don’t have time to consider anything at any depth.

[Philosophical Me] Ha – isn’t that the point? That we could spend all of our todays just getting stuff done and putting off any search for meaning and appreciation for beauty until long after it’s gone?

[Practical Me] Yes, but today I really have so much to do. It’s the first day of school, the first day of the month and I have so much work to get done.

Here’s where I negotiated peace between my selves. Yes, there are sometimes where I don’t have time to consider all the sides, the long-term implications and all the other things that can become in their own ways a buffer between me and the experience of life. Sometimes I just have to act.

But it’s the feeling of being in a rush that can be settled out before jumping in. That there is a tiny space for setting intention to be mindful in my efficiency. A moment to be purposeful, not panicked. A note to myself that yes, today is in fact sacred. I will pause to acknowledge accomplishments. And in doing all I need to do, I will try to unify and not to break any things in my haste.

Motorcycle Man

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“Every time you are tempted to react in the same old way, ask if you want to be a prisoner of the past or a pioneer of the future.” – Deepak Chopra

Let me paint the picture of my usual morning. I awaken early to do yoga, meditate and write. The house is quiet. Both kids are in bed sleeping and if the cat is inside, she’s curled up on the top of her tower resting. I do yoga silently in the family room and then I make a cup of tea and light candles to meditate by. I sit on my meditation bolster and start a breathing practice or two…and then at 6:37am a guy rides by my house on a motorcycle so loud that I can hear it for a block before and a block after.

This has been going on most weekdays for the last eight years. I remember meditating before I had kids with my beloved dog and the motorcycle would often set off a car alarm when it went by. I thought it was funny then – like a “wuhoo, now we are all raring to go!” But these days because it wakes up my toddler, I’m irritated.

I’ve tried accepting the irritation, appreciating it as a teacher, thanking it for drawing me away from my own monkey mind. None of it has made me feel more kindly towards the motorcycle man.

Until I made up this story about a child who grew up in a house that was too quiet. No one talked because if they did, all the feelings that they’d been holding right under the surface would blow apart the family. So they sat and stewed and this little boy dreamed of escaping to anywhere it was loud. When he grew up, he found himself in a marriage quite like his parents and couldn’t break the pattern by daring to speak until she finally did and what she said was “I want a divorce.” Alone, angry and confused he bought a motorcycle so loud that he could yell, scream and cry when he was on it and no one would hear. It was his freedom and even though he still had to work early mornings 5 days a week, he could feel unfettered on his way in. I hope the motorcycle man is growing freer to express himself in ways beyond the motorcycle every day. Now I’m rooting for him as he drives by.

Even though the story is utter BS, it helps me make friends with my experience. As I’m floating down the river of life, I’m trying to learn not to struggle with things I can’t control. Besides, this morning ritual is probably why “motorcycle” is one of my son’s favorite words and he can identify them by sound. Even as I’m working to find peace in to this daily occurrence, someone else in this house loves it showing me yet again, life is a subjective experience.