Soul Scrubbing

I am one week removed from my second visit to the beautiful healing red rocks of Sedona Arizona. My first trip occurred in September of 2011.  That trip was magical.  eaHeart shaped images appeared in the rocks and clouds, colorful rainbows sprouted from the dry desert and deep meaningful connections were established both with the vibrant land and my fellow travelers. If I thought of something it was unexplainably manifested into reality.

  This trip was different.  In my heart of hearts I always knew that I would return to Sedona. In the passing years there had been several group trips that I could not attend as my fellow travelers did.  On those days that I knew that the soles of their feet were touching the red rock and mine were on the office carpet I felt increasingly disconnected and distant.  When this opportunity arose I thought the timing was perfect, that was until the Board of Directors meeting that was scheduled for June 13^th was moved to June 6^th.  A Sedona trip that ended on June 4^th was not in the cards! 

  The wonderfully wise woman arranging the trip made the mere suggestion that since this trip was not focused as much on the group as the previous ones that I could adjust my travel dates to those that accommodated me best.  On one early morning sunlit day while driving to work over a two lane country road with the green leaves just beginning to emerge, the voices within my head said, you need to return to Sedona. Those red rocks contained something that I needed to finish and another journey that I was yet to embark upon. As much as I believed that I was resolute in my decision there was an undercurrent of uneasiness. Each day leading to the trip I battled through it.  I was not sure if it emerged from guilt of taking another trip for me or if it was because I was leery of what was to be revealed.  I inhaled deeply, packed my bags, boarded the airplane and embarked upon the journey.

   So what the hell do these insights have to do with floor care and the soul?   Let me tell you…..

  I remember watching my Grandmother and Mother scrub the floor.  They would wear a pair of yellow Playtex gloves; fill a bucket with hot water and ammonia, Spic ‘N Span or Mr. Clean, get on their knees and place the hard bristle scrub brush in the bucket to wet it. Then they would apply it to the floor, along with a bit of elbow grease.  The abrasive “whsssssss, whssssss, whssssssss” rhythmic sound of the scrub brush against the tile floor rotating in a circular motion said it all. Push hard, dig deep and loosen the dirt and built up residue.   When the area of the floor was cleaned to their satisfaction the clean rinse water would appear to reclaim all of the remains that were dislodged by the scrubbing, cleaning solution and elbow grease. Mom always said every once in a while you have to get down on your knees and just do the work.  Mopping is good but it doesn’t clean the hard to remove, stuck on dirt.

 

  I own a Swiffer.  You know the cleaning system that has the bottle of aromatic cleaning solution attached to the back of the long handle.  The solution sprays out in front of the disposable pad that is attached to the “brush” head.  Heck, the brush head even swivels to reach those tough to get into spaces.  Whoever designed this was a genius! It is user friendly and makes your floors appear beautiful within minutes.  The solution is gentle and actually pleasant on the nostrils. It is a finely designed system that does the job.  Well, almost does the job.  The Swiffer cleaning pad does not and cannot lift the dirt from the deep crevices that are contained in the quietly built up floor reside. 

   So with a soul filled with residue and with much to remove I traveled to Sedona. As I drove into Oak Creek Canyon my reaction to the red rock was different than it was in 2011.  I did not have to pick up my awe struck jaw from the floor of the rental car.  The view was spectacular but expected. and this reaction bothered me. We should not become accustomed to and expect such stunning beauty; conversely we should appreciate every single glimpse of Mother Nature’s unencumbered gifts

 

   Settled after a long trip, on Tuesday morning I retreated to my emotional knees with a bucket and brush by my side and the work began. I dipped the brush into the solution and the cleansing began.  I was not scrubbing a floor or the red rock for that matter; I was removing the layers of life lessons and circumstances that have influenced my thought patterns, expectations and reactions. Simply, I was scrubbing my soul.  Like the floor our souls to do not always showcase the residue that may collect in the corners of the room.  We keep on going, smiling and shining through it all, but secretly we hold our breath and hope that our dirty, unhappy, discontented secrets are not revealed.

  Day in and day out we accumulate residue on our souls.  There was a day that our floors were beautiful and pristine, but the buildup has gradually appeared; an unachieved goal, and a job lost, a rejection a death, a birth, a broken heart and a betrayal. Somehow we mop over it and get through.  Dealing with it headfirst will consume us, so we do our best to deal.  However, the imprint is there and the residue accumulates. Maybe in an effort to survive the best thing that we can do is to tell ourselves that we are okay but many times we are not, what remains builds into a dark black gunk. The accumulation of problems and unresolved discontent builds up into an unbearable uneasiness.

 

   As I walked upon those red rocks I began looking deep within myself.  I evaluated my major life events, my decisions and I revisited my actions and reactions.   We all tend to travel through life swiffering.  It is a quick fix that looks good and smells clean but in reality, underneath the residue remains.  In my case it needed to be disturbed and raised to the surface.  Issues, problems are not attractive but their nasty roots are part of our makeup and they guide our actions.  In the process here is what I unearthed:

  I have lived so much of my life in fear….fear of failure, fear of change, fear of the uncertain, but in failure there are triumphs and lessons and change can be cleansing and life altering, don’t resist it.

  Making the popular choice may satisfy others, but ultimately I am the person who must awake each day and live within my skin. So at the end of the day I am the only one who needs to be satisfied with my final decision.

 

  Too often I have lamented over the fact that I was never a stay at home mom, or that I made the wrong parenting choices.  Hindsight is always 20/20. Forgive yourself. You were merely doing the best you could and you did so with the best of intentions.  Anyway, the instruction manual that was supposed to be delivered along with the kids never arrived! Let it go……..

 If you approach each day with the purest of intentions and do the best you can and live from the heart….a kind heart, goodness will follow.  Even if you do garner immediate feedback stay the course, it is the right one!

 

 

 Nothing stays the same so don’t put all of your energy into trying to halt the change. Allow the river of life to flow. Ride the ebbs and flows, the bends, the breaks and the rapids.

 The Universe presents challenges not to unearth you, but rather to facilitate your growth.

Happiness is not a grandiose destination.  It is found within yourself. The secret is finding peace, beauty and contentment in each moment.  You just don’t wake up on day in a sudden state of happiness it evolves from a place of gratitude; gratitude for where you presently reside, for where you came and where you are traveling to.

  You can only be who you are, not what other want or expect you to be. So don’t keep trying to fulfill another’s vision of you.

 

 Objects and possessions don’t bring you long lasting happiness, people and connections do.

  Perfection is not a sustainable state. You may achieve it, but it is momentary.  It arrives in flashes and dissipates rapidly.  Don’t spend your life chasing it, but rather love and honor the moments when it does occur.

 

  At times life can be overwhelming.  Don’t let the feeling consume you.  Breathe, stay in the moment because that is all you can really do.

   I have been disappointed and I have disappointed others.  Understand that within that moment each of us was simply doing the best that we could. Each of us has resided on both sides of the equation.  Let go of the resentment, let go of the anger and let go of the disappointment.

  Patterns in relationships are co-created. Each partner is culpable.  When you no longer are traveling the same path acknowledge your part in the journey and understand the only piece that you can change is your own. Be mindful of the pitfalls of transition.  We don’t evolve at the same pace, but remember you shared at the same starting point. Go there to rekindle the connection.

 

  As I sat upon Cathedral Rock to witness my last sunrise of the trip I looked into the bucket that contained my rinse water. It was murky and a very deep black.  The elbow grease and Mr. Clean had paid off.  So much within had been removed, some issues have been loosened while others have just felt the first pass of the wshhhhhh, wshhhhhhh of the scrub brush.  Traveling to Sedona is not a prerequisite to scrubbing your soul.  The desire to look within is.  So put down the Swiffer and pick up the scrub brush, feel the coarseness of bristles pass along your beliefs and emotional imprints. Allow them to loosen the gunk, love the journey and be grateful for the gifts that they will unearth.

 

Cathedral Splendor

 

  I am on vacation and this morning my alarm clock sounded at 4:15 a.m. It was not by accident but rather by design.  I am spending a week in Sedona Arizona.  It is one of the most stunning and magical places that I have encountered. The red rock formations scream of vibrancy and connection. Today I planned to bear witness to the dawning of a new day and watch the sun rise from a vantage point on one of Cathedral Rock’s plateaus.

  As I readied for the trip I dressed in hiking shorts, a tank top and I wore a light windbreaker jacket.  The outside temperature registered forty eight degrees on the rental car dashboard.  There was no time to go back to my hotel room to grab a long sleeve shirt.  I needed to drive to the trail entrance and hike up the mountain to my chosen spot. Today time was of an essence. My first and only other trip to Sedona was September 2011.  It was a group tour and this was the way we had spent our last morning together.  When I made my current plans to return I knew that this event would be prominently inked in on my schedule. No pencil for this one, there was no chance of change or erasure.

  When I arrived my car was the only one in the parking lot.  As the nighttime darkness was starting to wane I began my accent.  It was 4:55 a.m. and according to the internet, sunrise was to occur at 5:16 a.m. I knew I had some time because it would take a little longer for that ball of fire to top the mountainous red rock in the distance, but how much time I did not know for sure.  So I moved swiftly but gingerly up the rocky path.  Not wanting to miss this event I didn’t stop to photograph two heart shaped rocks that I had spotted along the way.  By the time I reached my destination I had worked up a light sweat. 

  I settled on a spot where one tier of the rock formation overlaps another.  Higher behind me were the spires of Cathedral Rock and above them in the shifting color of the sky from black to blue was the moon.

    Every day holds a different meaning for each of us.  My thoughts turned to my niece who on this morning will hold and nurse her one week old son.  Today one of my co-workers will say her final goodbye to her father-in-law and I remember my friend who anxiously awaits the results of a medical test.  We all share the same day but it evokes different thoughts and emotions in each of us.  Some days are joyous, some heartbreaking, others are anxiety filled but most of them are filled with the routine functions of life.

  I remember the countless number of times that as a new day dawned I would lie wrapped tightly under my bed covers and all I could think about was when the work day would be over so that I could return home. Instead of viewing the day as full of possibilities I have wished and willed hundreds of thousands of minutes away none of which can be reclaimed nor recovered. 

  One constant occurrence in our lives is that each and every day the sun will rise.  Sometimes it will be hidden behind clouds, rain or snow but it occurs whether we witness it or not.   Rarely do we concern ourselves or notice the risings and settings of the sun, rather we just expect them.  And far less often do we take the time to dance within their splendor.  For me, this is what this morning is for, taking the time to notice, appreciate and enjoy.

  Stillness blanketed the canyon.  For the first forty five minutes of my journey my only companions were a few sparrows and an occasional spiny lizard. Oh yeah, and the forty seconds of howling from the coyotes in the distance. I was thankful for the distance!

 With each passing moment the sky became lighter and lighter.  It was 5:30 a.m. and with the benefits of my aerobic hike up the trail dwindling, cold began to settle in.  I put down my journal and pen and wrapped my windbreaker tighter around me. I blew warm air into my slightly numb hands.  Not only was I anxiously awaiting the sun’s entrance for her beauty but also to feel her warmth.

 

   At 6:02 a.m. light appeared along the crown of the red rocks in the distance.  As I turned to look at the spires of Cathedral Rock behind me, their pinnacles that had moments before appeared amber now emitted a golden hue.  The ceremony had begun.  It was the changing of the guards.  The sun rising in the east was relieving the moon stationed in the west. 

 

 

  The sun’s accent was rapid.  Within minutes the light was brilliant and blinding. I was unable to look squarely in her direction.  I closed my eyes and began to feel her familiar loving warmth permeate my body. I likened myself to my niece’s new born son, cocooned in a receiving blanket and lovingly embraced. With gratitude I soaked it all into my heart and let it flow to into my soul.  It was a moment of connectedness and pure bliss.   

 

 With the sun fully emerged from beyond the red rocks I gathered my things and began my morning hike. This is where I believed this blog post would end, but I was wrong.  As I hiked the Templeton Trail the Universe continued to bestow her wisdom upon me.  With the sun warming my jacketless shoulders I began to notice the varying shades of light that was cast upon the desert inhabitants and the messages they conveyed.

  In this patch of prickly pear cactus the sunlight illuminated just a few pieces, two of which when highlighted like this seemed to form a heart.  A reminder, don’t underestimate the joy and love you can spread when you shine your unencumbered heart in this world!

 

  When you think your view is impeded, don’t allow outside factors or elements to block or diminish it. And don’t focus on the altered view.  Envision the grand picture that lies beyond.

 

 It is not necessary to reside in the spot light.  We are all connected and receive equal benefit from the gift of warmth and light.

 

 When you can’t see a clear pathway or solution to a problem trust that the way out will be illuminated for you.

   This morning I sat in a Cathedral.  It was not adorned with bronze statues, wooden pews or brilliantly colored storytelling windows. However, it was equally exquisite.  It was adorned with glowing rocks of red and gold, the musical accompaniment was provided by a chorus of sparrows, its ceiling was a loosely fitted dome of brilliant blue sky and its sanctuary was guarded by the sun and the moon.  It was Mother Nature’s Cathedral and I was humbled and grateful to occupy a seat and enjoy all of her splendor.

  No matter what is going on in your life, rest assured that each day the sun will rise and it will set. It is your choice, like everything else we encounter, to take notice.

Gifts Beyond the Rainbow

Eighty eight days. What has happened in your life during  the past eighty eight days?  Most likely it has been routine and sprinkled with a few bursts of laughter and joy. Within the past eighty eight days my cousins have lost both their brother and mother. For them there was nothing routine about this time.  While working to suture one wound another one appeared.  This cut runs much deeper.  It goes through the bone and touches the soul. Why is it that some people have to face such loss and hardship while other don’t?  Maybe it just seems that way.  Maybe it is just a matter of time and we all have a turn living within overwhelming sorrow.

   As I entered the church to attend my aunts funeral a sweet and soulful version of “Somewhere over the Rainbow” was playing.  It was Aunt Sandy’s favorite song.  Funny, I hadn’t known that before, but now it makes perfect sense.  Although she faced physical pain, adversity and heartache in her life she always wore a smile.  Actually, it was her signature mark and with it she surely did light up the room. There is a saying that goes, “A smile is the light in the window of your soul”.  Through her smile Aunt Sandy, with gentle strength conveyed the prayer inscribed on her mass card. 

“God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change…..

  Courage to change the things I can and wisdom to know the difference”.

    Peppered among the tears and sadness of the day was an outpouring of pink.  There were pink roses upon the casket.  Her son, son-in-laws, grandsons and former husband wore pink neckties.  Pink jackets were donned by her daughters, sister, relatives and friends. All in honor of her love of the color.  Tradition says that funerals need to be dark, but why not celebrate the vibrancy of the person and what they brought to our life and to this earth. I loved that my cousins chose to honor their mother in this way.

   I imagine my cousins feel like they are staring in “Groundhog Day II”. Another day in this church to honor a deceased loved one. The same six pall bearers that escorted my Cousin Kevin’s casket into the church on a snowy February morning rolled the casket containing his mother into the church for her funeral today.  In the winter the pall bearers were called brother, son and nephew.  On this spring morning they are called son, and grandson.  It was an eerie and uncomfortable deja vu.  

  While sitting in this modern church made of marble, stone and glass I was transported back to a moment that occurred a little over twenty years ago in a small white clapboard and stained glass chapel in this same town.  On that day it too was a passing that gathered us together. The service was for my cousin Jack, the oldest son and brother of this family.  Much like today that day was one of sadness and palpable pain that was merely in its infancy.  It was during the sign of peace that I witnessed one of the kindest, unscripted and genuine moments of connectedness in my life. 

  Twenty years ago the family was seated in the first few pews of the chapel.  My uncle and his wife were seated on the left, my cousin’s their spouses and children in the middle and at the end of the pew, on the right side was Aunt Sandy.  The sign of peace had concluded, but before the priest continued with the service my uncle vacated his seat walked around the pew to my aunt and hugged her. He simply hugged her.  The gesture was pure.  It came from a place of broken heartedness and love. That is how this has family has navigated their way through the changing structure of familiarity, simply, by loving one another.

  During the service today once again my cousin Michael stood at the pulpit and shared his thoughts and feelings about a lost loved one.  With steadfast composure and eloquent grace he delivered a tribute to a loving Mother who held each of her children close to her heart.  The relationship with our Mother is like no other.  Think about it.  Each of us came into this world only after maturing from the safe confines of our mother’s womb. We spent every single second of those forty weeks together.  Mom provided our warmth, shelter, nutrition and safety.  We grew and thrived until it was time for us to meet. And when we did meet she continued to do much of the same. Maybe that is why the loss of a Mother is so great. What began inutero expands into a lifetime of knowing that she is the one person in this life that you can count on.  She hugs you when you need it.  She wipes away your tears. She champions you when no one else believes, and she holds your heart when it breaks the most. Ultimately when she leaves she takes that connected part of you along with her. 

  After the service my cousin Maureen hosted a luncheon.  As I was assembling my plate I heard my Uncle (who was just entering the service line) lightheartedly bellow:

 "You are already disobeying your Mother.  She said, your father doesn’t like a napkin at the table he likes a dish towel.”  This statement was true of my Uncle. He has always preferred a freshly laundered dish towel to a paper napkin with his meal.   

  Little did I know that he was recounting  a conversation that had occurred this past week when he called to check in on the mother of his children.  As he was on the phone with Maureen Aunt Sandy blurted out that thought about the dish towel.  Maybe it was a moment of clarity in the midst of confusion or maybe it was a momentary flashback to a family dinner many years before as she was instructing one of her daughters to set the dinner table.  Or maybe it was a few words of consciousness disguised to thank a man that she shared six children with, and buried two.    There is neither a line drawn in the sand nor in the heart. It is just a family in its various forms navigating their way through life together.

 Divorce does not have to be the death of a family; maybe it just extends its branches.  As my Uncle entered the buffet line he left the pink paper napkin behind and picked up the burnt orange dish towel.

   When I returned home I went out for a walk.  I needed to release the sadness of the day.  What better way than to spend it among the newly blossoming flowers and trees.  Of course as I walked I thought about the day, my cousins and their losses.  I recalled the symbolism of the white feather that my cousin Kevin shared and had given as a gift to my Mother on her seventieth birthday.  When you find one it means that a loved one in heaven is watching over you.  In all the years that I have walked this route I cannot recall finding a feather, but today I desperately wanted to. I needed to.

  The road I was walking along was rural. There are a smattering of homes that are lined with large trees and rock walls. The gully along the roadside is filled with the remnants of the fall leaves.  They are no longer the vibrant fall colors red, yellow and orange but are browned.  I was about a half hour into my journey when I noticed the quill of a feather poking from beneath the leaves.  The feather itself was large and brown.  I was disappointed the feather was brown, not white.  Actually, if it wasn’t for the quill the feather would have been unnoticeable.  It blended in with the leaves.  I traveled twenty five feet more and to my amazement there was another large brown feather.  I had never found one feather along this route and today I found two.  But again they were not the color I wanted.  

 

 

 Continuing my walk and enjoying the sunshine my disappointment turned into a smile. I was meant to find the brown feathers. They were a gift and a lesson sent from above.  Don’t fixate on what you think you want.  Accept the gifts that come your way.  The gifts that you receive may be larger and grander than you could have ever imagined.  I know this was sent from a woman who understood value and worth.  Not value in terms of possessions and monetary wealth, but that of love, kindness, support and smiles. She was the one who attended each grandchild’s sporting events and even had her own designated seat in the stands.  That is value.  That is what truly matters, being present for those that we love.

   I had been walking for almost two hours.  On my return along the road where I spotted the two brown feathers I broke the cardinal rule and walked with the flow of traffic rather than against it. I wanted to take another look at the feathers.  As I was approached the area I found what I had been seeking. At the edge of a driveway in the gravel, mud and debris was a white feather grayed from the elements. Obviously it was there when I walked past it today.  How many times had I walked past it these past several months and not seen it?  This formerly white, now grayish feather took my breath away.  It was from an angel above reminding me that just because we don’t see something or someone it doesn’t mean that they aren’t always with us.

   I had only taken a dozen or so steps before I spotted the first brown feather from earlier today, another twenty five feet further was the second and after five more there was a third!!!  I hadn’t seen it before. It was covered by a few twigs and blended in with the leaves. Tiny bumps of realization peppered my skin. I knew who sent these feathers and who they were intended for. They were gifts sent to comfort a broken hearted family.

 

  And just in case I didn’t get the message it was displayed on the mailbox belonging to home that owned this frontage.  The name read SAJDUK.  How many last names do you know that have the letters “S”, “J” and “K” in them and in that order, Sandy, Jack and Kevin. What are the odds that the three brown feathers would be found here?

 

    I was almost home and Judy Garland’s rendition of “Somewhere over the Rainbow” was playing in my mind.  The lyrics are enchanting.

"Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high
There's a land that I've heard of once in a lullaby.
Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue
And the dreams that you dare to dream,
Really do come true.

Someday I'll wish upon a star
And wake up where the clouds are far behind me.
Where troubles melt like lemon drops,
High above the chimney tops,
That's where you'll find me.

Somewhere over the rainbow, blue birds fly
Birds fly over the rainbow
Why then, oh why can't I?
If happy little bluebirds fly beyond the rainbow
Why, oh why can't I?"

  This song is from the classic movie the “Wizard of Oz”.  Dorothy, the Scarecrow, the Tin man and the Lion are all searching for something…..a home, a brain, a heart and some courage.  After their journey they realized that all that they were seeking had always resided within.  

  To my cousins, their spouses and children know that there is a woman now residing on the other side of the rainbow within the blue skies who will do her best to make sure that all of your dreams really do come true.

• 

Pulling Weeds

 This morning the sun was bright, the sky blue, the breeze light and welcoming. I was buoyed and felt light as I stepped out my front door to embark on my morning walk. What caught my eye and screamed “I need attention” were the weeds that had instantaneously and insidiously decorated the flower beds along our walkway.  With the frigid whiteness of winter just a few weeks removed from our memory new and incestuous life is had appeared.

  My walk was meditative and equally invigorating. When I returned home I grabbed a quick bite to eat and before I showered I decided that I better get outside and attend to mess that had suddenly sprouted.   With garden gloves, hand tools and weed bucket in hand I was up for the challenge. This one I knew I was going to win.  It was me against the weeds….they didn’t stand a chance.

  The spreading evergreen bushes in the flower bed had already been trimmed by the local deer.  I thought to myself, “How perfect would this world be if deer loved the taste of weeds? “ Could you imagine having a living weed remover that costs you nothing more than a few plants? Oh well we can dream. The deer will continue to eat my plants and ignore the weeds that reside literally right under their noses.

  As I bent over and yanked hard on the first few weeds they resisted and the greens broke off at the stem.  Under the soil the root was still intact.  I picked up my hand shovel and began digging towards the anchor, the force that keeps the ornery plant alive.  They fasten themselves deeply to the root to support their cause.    If I was going to win this war I need to disarm the enemy at its core.

  With each pull on the green and viney growth I was inching closer towards clarity.  Aren’t these stubborn and uninvited guests much like the obstacles that we encounter in our lives?  We all have weeds that attach to us.  You know the undesirable pieces of us that impede the beauty of our personal landscapes. They anchor us to the belief that we are unlovable, undesirable or unwanted. Or, simply a nuisance.

 I abandoned the pulling and I began digging.  I wanted, no needed, to unearth the roots of the weeds so that they would have difficulty resurfacing. 

 After trimming some tree branches my husband joined me.  He pulled a few and threw them into the bucket.  I asked. “Did you get the roots?”

  “Uh, I don’t think so” he answered.  I circled back to where he came from and began digging towards the roots.   I could tell he was angry with me.  He believed that I was questioning his work, but little did he know that I was on a mission.  Today these stubborn and annoying weeds gave me the gift of clarity. To deal with an issue you need to get to its core, right to the root. 

  Earlier as I was pulling, yanking and digging I thought to myself.  When I am finished I need to buy some of that black plastic weed blocker.  I can lie that down over this flower bed and then cover it with the chocolate colored mulch.  The weeds won’t grow through that and I won’t have to deal with this anymore. 

  From the surface that is a quick fix, but lurking beneath the black plastic resides the roots of those weeds, those issues.  Maybe the lack of sunlight and water will impede their growth but their core remains.  Can we every really bury our issues if we do not deal with the real cause of them?  Not really.  And if we trick ourselves into believing so it is merely a temporary fix.  In order to move forward and grow we need to come face to face with the issue.  Stare at it and if it wishes allow it to stare back, Until we do so no cutting, pulling, or yanking will resolve what has fastened itself to our hearts. The negative will hinder us from blooming into all of the beautiful goodness that resides within.

   I finished my chores and admired those flower beds with crisp edges and weed less zones. I was not exhausted, but exhilarated.  Today from those suborn, bullish and pervasive dandelions I garnered a great lesson.  Don’t cover up or cut off the problem at its base look beneath, beyond and within to unearth the deep seated cause. Once you eradicate the root issue you can truly bloom into a beautiful unencumbered flower you are meant to be.

Your Inner Guru

“What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us.”…….Ralph Waldo Emerson

  Since we are friends I am going to let you in on a little secret.  Well really it is far from little and really, it is rather important.  Each of spends hours, days, weeks and years of our lives attempting to be more than we believe we are. We want to be better. We want to achieve, succeed and try to fit in and be the best we can.  We seek out those whom we think will show us the way and lead us down our desired path.  They are the leaders in their fields, experts, teachers, masters and gurus.  They have achieved so they must know the magical formula to get us from here to there. The truth is you may think that you need a parent, an elder, teacher, or guru to transport you to that place, but they are simply our tour guides.  The quest for knowledge, change and the willingness to do the work comes from within.  The teacher sparks the interest with their stories, words and insights but the student’s desire is the fuel that ignites the flame and facilitates the growth.

  This is how the dictionary and conventional wisdom defines a guru.

gu·ru 1. Hinduism. a preceptor giving personal religious instruction. 2. an intellectual or spiritual guide or leader. 3. any person who counsels or advises; mentor: The elder senator was her political guru. 4. a leader in a particular field: the city's cultural gurus.

  Throughout the years there has been an unwritten set of criteria, a spectrum so to speak, in which we compared and compartmentalize ourselves in relation to others. Within it lies a hierarchal chain of status.  We need to fit into one of them and we crave acceptance. It is human nature to do so.  Each and every day of our lives in some shape or form we seek acceptance.  Validation is part of the human experience. If your thoughts and beliefs are accepted, well, then, so are you.  Ultimately, the truth is, we are stronger, wiser and much more resilient than we realize.

  We are conditioned to revel in those who have achieved.  The athletes, actors, pop stars, etc.  The media continues to inundate us with their successes, whereabouts, homes, vacations and love lives.  From where we sit they have it all. They are better than us.  So many people spend their lives aspiring to be like those who have achieved these perceived successes. Or at the very least we strive to be more successful than our peers.  But for what, where is the payoff? 

“When the student is ready the teacher will appear.”…Buddha

 

  In our infancy we rely on those who are older, larger and wiser to guide and more importantly protect us. Readily and comfortably submissive we long for strong arms to embrace us and tender hearts to gently guide us.

       When a child attempts his first steps their parents are their constant companions.  They are there to hold their child’s hand and steady their gait.  The goal is to support the child but then the time comes when we must loosen our grip and allow the child to venture out unassisted. It goes without saying that the child will stumble and fall, but after the tears they pick themselves up and garner knowledge from the missteps.

  It is the same when you are ready to undertake any new task, hobby or interest. If you want to learn to play golf you take lessons from a pro.  If you want to learn to draw or paint you seek out an artist. If you want to learn to play an instrument you seek out a musician and if you are seeking a spiritual experience you seek out a guru. It is inevitable that you will stumble, fall or at eh very least, misstep. In the infancy of our appointed journey we too look for guidance and someone to steady us along the path.

    Below is the answer to the secret that I promised to share, so gather in close and pay attention……

 Study the spelling of the word guru.  It contains four letters, g-u-r-u.  Gee you are you!  All that we seek resides within.  It always has and it always will. Validation and acceptance are the keys that unlock what our heart desires.   So often we lose sight of it, but each of us holds our own power. No one can take from us what we refuse to relinquish.   Simply find within that place of comfort, hold onto it, revel in it and discover that ultimately all along…… gee you are you!!!

 

  And once you connect and align with your inner guru remember to smile because when you do the world smiles back at you.

Blessings and Being

At times the Universal calendar perfectly aligns.  This past week we celebrated two major religious holidays, Easter and Passover.  Both celebrations are born from strife, pain and hardship and the each revel in renewal and rejuvenation.

 Personally, this week for me was both demanding and tiring. I traveled to Florida on Palm Sunday to my company’s annual trade show.  It is a very important and equally grueling few days.  Realizing that the show was scheduled during Holy Week I knew that I would be too exhausted to host the holiday.  Did I feel guilty?  Without a doubt I did. But I also have come to realize that you can only do what you can do.  My remaining twangs of guilt were dissolved when I heard that my parents were spending the holiday with my sister and her husband in Pennsylvania.

  Knowing that my parents had a place to celebrate the holiday I moved into the weekend exhausted from the demands of my work week, but thankful that I had two days to replenish my energy.

  Of course the best laid plans of mice and men usually go astray.  After a long peaceful walk on Saturday morning the balance of my day consisted of grocery shopping and cooking.  Chores.  Each task was necessary but all equally invasive upon my time.

  My plans for Sunday were focused and simple, take it easy.  Sleep as late as I wanted to, stay in my pajamas all day if that is what I desired and attend Easter service when I was ready. Then I was to cook a nice meal for my family.

  Saturday night, just before I was ready to head to bed I received a text message from my friend Kerry that said. “Hi Kathy, meeting Margaret outside of Torches for a 6:15 sunrise service.  Come if u can!”

  As soon as I read the message I knew that along the shoreline of the Hudson River was where I was going to welcome Easter morning, I set my alarm for 5:15 a.m. and headed to bed.  So much for sleeping in! It was now about being where you are called to be.  In my past I would have received that message and say to myself “I can’t do that.”  Now my response is, “There is no reason why I can’t do that.”  It is all about changing the dialog with yourself.  Don’t immediately impose roadblocks within your journey but rather open the space for growth to occur.

  To the surprise of my husband I arose before him, dressed grabbed my coffee and drove off within the dark stillness of the morning.  When I arrived at the river front I searched for my friend.  Within five minutes she arrived.  One thing that you have to understand about Kerry is that she speaks her truth and it comes directly from her heart. She is equally honest and comedic in her responses.  Usually Kerry is the brunt of her own jokes…..this was a wonderful lesson that I have learned from her. Simply, if you can’t laugh at yourself without abandon, who else can you really and truly laugh at with a clear understanding of circumstances? Always maintain a clear conscious and life will be good.

  When Kerry arrived I took my keys, left my pocketbook and phone behind and locked my car.  We were heading to an Easter morning service so I knew that my cell phone would not be welcomed.  As we made our way to the service area we spotted our friend Margaret.  After hugs and Easter greetings our overflowing hearts added warmth to the day and cut the chilly morning air.  A March Easter equals thirty degree mornings.

 As we stood in the dawning moments of Easter Sunday the sky above the river was speckled in pastel shades of light, blue, yellow and a fair pink were abundant.  The hues changed as the sun was rising.  The dark pastel pink turned to lighter shades.  I kept thinking of my phone/camera in the car.  As much as I wanted to run back to get it and capture the beauty of the sky, I didn’t want to interrupt the sacredness of the moment.  With the mighty Hudson River eerily still I knew that I needed to do the same.  Remain where I was and do not create a ripple. Ripples change the direction of the flow.

  The service was a mix of faiths and denominations but we were bound by a common bond, the sacredness of Mother Earth.  As each prayer, hymn and response was uttered the river, mountains and sky were staring back at us and saying, “Thank you for bearing witness.” It was a beautiful exchange of oneness and connection.

  I struggle to find the words that bring you to the place where I resided.  The feelings within a chapel are hard to describe and it is even more difficult when the windows are not constructed of stained glass, but rather an unobstructed view of a day evolving. It was pure bliss.

 As I walked away from the service centered, grounded and renewed I was grateful for the experience and overwhelmingly thankful to my friend for the invitation.  Without her prodding and if I chose to listen to the “cannot voice” versus my new found “why not” voice I would have slept through a glorious morning.

 After returning home for a bite to eat and a little rest I decided to go out for a walk.  The sun was no longer visible. The clouds replaced her presence.  But fresh air and a silent walk hold the keys to clarity.  On this day not only was clarity within reach but so were some beautiful images.

  In these last several months I have learned to listen to the “turn around” and the “go back” sounds, there are usually messages residing there.  On my walk I had my phone/camera and I captured these Easter messages and images.

A supported heart…

An angel…

Another heart….

Another angel…

A cross….

 A witness at the tomb….

A hallelujah along the road….

During my walk many thoughts crossed my mind.  I wondered about peace and why it eludes so many of us.  Why do we limit our expectations?  How come we rush through life and miss the simple moments of beauty?  So I began to craft my list of “Be’s” They may be, Be’s Belief’s, Breath’s or Beings….Here are a few of them.

  Be kind to others, but more importantly remember to be kind to yourself first.

 Believe that there are miracles around the corner and when they don’t arrive when you expect them know that this moment was not right.

 Be your best self each and every day.  When you give your all, your greatness will be seen.

 Breathe, take moments to breathe.  Each and every single breath is a gift, don’t squander it or take it for granted.

 Be yourself, because no one else can be you.

 Be aware of the strength and beauty that resides within you.  There will be times that you need to draw upon it, and you will be amazed at your resolve and resilience.

  Be strong and gentle.  An odd combination but when they reside in harmony they are a powerful combination.

  Simply……….and purely…….be…….. And breathe.

 When I returned from my walk I was renewed and was ready to commit my thought to paper.  I was going to post an Easter/Passover Blog.   First I figured I would get the meal underway so that I could free up my time to write. 

 Then the reminder from my daughter arrived.  The rough draft of her thesis was due at twelve p.m. on Monday and she had asked me to assist her in the editing process.  I promised and I would never consider reneging on such a commitment.  I knew that my plans for this post were waning.

  The sections of my daughter’s thesis began arriving.  Yes, I was anxious about my time.  I wanted to write this Easter blog and the hours of Easter Sunday were waning.  I did not have time to edit her paper and accomplish my goal. But then the same peaceful feeling that I experienced at the riverfront in the morning overtook me. Editing my daughter’s thesis was the primary task at hand.  As parents this is what we strive to do, be there when our children need us the most.  I began editing and I released my expectations of what I wanted versus what was to be. 

   For me the lesson became so very apparent. We tend to pigeon hole ourselves into a time frame.  I believed that I needed to post my Easter/Passover message on that day for it to be heard. In actuality so many people resonate with the feelings of a season on a designated day and that day only.  The real message of the holiday is to feel joy, renewal and resurrection throughout the year. These feelings are not designated for one specific day.  We are meant to carry them within us each and every day of our lives.  So you may be reading this a few days after the actual holiday, or it may be weeks, months or even years thereafter, but ask yourself am I carrying the Easter and Passover joy within my heart today, or have I put it back on the shelf and am awaiting to retrieve it next year?  

 Blessings to you my friends and remember the egg. It is the universal sign of Easter and is the ultimate symbol of new life and growth. I hope you have found your egg and are holding onto it. May joy and renewal be yours today and all of your tomorrows.

 

 

 

  And right before I posted these thoughts I realized that this was my fortieth blog post.  Ironically lent has forty days of sacrifice and strife leading up to the joys of Easter. A coincidence?  No, a message, yes.