“If I have harmed anyone in any way either knowingly or unknowingly through my own confusions, I ask their forgiveness. If anyone has harmed me in any way either knowingly or unknowingly through their own confusions, I forgive them. And if there is a situation I am not yet ready to forgive, I forgive myself for that. For all the ways that I harm myself, negate, doubt, belittle myself, judge or be unkind to myself through my own confusions, I forgive myself.”
~ A Buddhist Prayer of Forgiveness
My darling Diana used this prayer in a meditation the other day
in honor of the current full moon energy.
We get together once a month to pay homage to the energy surrounding each full moon, in hopes it will kick our ass that much less.
We were talking about the inflammatory nature of the word
Forgiveness
People will get furious and fight for their right to NOT forgive.
I would love to hear the argument for this and how it serves them in their lives.
How is staying mad and resentful working in their favor?
NOTHING is unforgivable
No Thing.
There is always a choice
The choice to stay right..and miserable,
Or the choice to be happy..and free.
Some things FEEL unforgivable, they are so horrible.
Forgiveness does not mean forgetting, nor does it mean condoning or excusing offenses.
It is accepting and moving on.
“Holding onto Anger is like drinking poison and expecting the other person to die”
~Buddha~
I have a story that demonstrated this to me so perfectly.
I was once walking with my husband through one of those beautiful,
outdoor malls, when suddenly, I saw someone who had visited torment,
in the form of horrible verbal abuse and hugely expensive, unjustified
legal action on me.
He acts like a MEAN guy.
Immediately my blood ran cold.
I darted around him like an idiot, trying not be be seen, or breath the same air.
He on the other hand, was walking and smiling and having a perfectly lovely time with his wife.
He was fine.
I was miserable.
In my anger, resentment, and ultimately my inability to forgive him or move on,
I was hooked up to an intravenous feed of poison, that was only hurting…
ME.
I work hard literally EVERY day to forgive this man.
And to forgive myself for attracting someone like that into my life.
The moment I met him I should have turned and run!
And I knew that!
My bad.
Forgiveness is the scent the violet leaves on the heel that crushes it
– Mark Twain
Think about that statement. That feels so sacred to me.
I’d love to open a discussion on forgiveness.
Forgiving others, and forgiving ourselves.
Let me know your thoughts.
XoxJanet
“A clay pot sitting in the sun will always be a clay pot. It has to go through the white heat of the furnace to become porcelain. ”
– Mildred W. Struven
I need a show of hands, who thinks time is messing with us??
I mean really!
I feel as if I’ve lived about five lifetimes INSIDE this one ragged, crazy life!!
Clay that has been molded, then flattened out, then re molded,
over, and over, and over again.
A thousands suns have fired me into porcelain.
I’ve been broken, then glued.
I’ve been chipped…repeatedly.
I’m too fragile for everyday sometimes,
Too fancy.
But porcelain is shiny and it’s pretty.
And remarkably durable.
And I’ve lasted.
People used to be dead by 50!
These days we’re just hitting our stride by then.
In Kabbalah, that wonderful form of Jewish mysticism,
You don’t even get possession of life’s secrets until after 40.
What a gype, you were allowed all the answers,
then you died?
I don’t know about you, but the past me’s
bear little resemblance to the current me.
I can follow their trajectory to see how I got here,
but honestly, it could have gone any number of other ways!
Sometimes I’m right back in the 19 year old me’s skin,
looking thru her eyes, and she feels familiar, I can relate to her thoughts.
Other times, I can look at a picture of me at 26, 35, 47 and a complete
stranger stares back.
What I know for sure, is I’ve been, we’ve all been,
given the opportunity to take our time to evolve this time.
We’ve all lived several lives inside just this one.
And I for one, was not trusted with life’s secrets until after 50.
I didn’t have the gravitas, I couldn’t be trusted.
Not until the clay was molded into porcelain yet once again,
this time using all the broken pieces.
I’m having that Christmas morning feeling lately.
Even if you don’t celebrate Chistmas, I’m sure you know what
I’m taking about.
It’s that delicious feeling of anticipation, butterflies and all, that you get
in the lead up, and almost unbearably the night before,
but by early Christmas morning you’ve almost lost your mind, from excitement.
too much sugar, and lack of sleep.
I’m ridiculous, I know, but I still get that feeling every year despite my best intentions.
A cold and cynical Grinch I will never be.
It must just be in the air, because there’s really no excuse!
The actual day is almost 6 weeks away.
The real lead up is….well it did start the day after Halloween,
but I have yet to hear a carol, so it hasn’t started yet in my world.
This feeling is like the excitement I associate with Christmas, but I know this
time it’s unrelated.
I’m filled with optimism of something wonderful about to happen.
Not sure of the logistics.
Just sure of the miracle.
Kinda like flying reindeer and a fat man squeezing down a chimney.
The Universe, or Source, or God, is up to something.
Doesn’t matter if we’ve been naughty or nice.
Whew!!!
She’s hanging white twinkle lights and making everything feel special.
The future is wrapped up sweetly with a big bow.
Miracles are afoot
All bets are off
The jig is up.
Are you feeling it??
I had a dream the other night that I was on a wide open plain,
riding a bike in a lightning storm.
It was really vivid at the time, and I can remember thinking
” well, this can’t be safe”! as I rode along, lightning all around me.
The interesting thing was that the flashes were limited to the horizon,
…and there was no thunder.
I completely forgot about it until later that day when something,
I can’t remember what, triggered the memory.
So I asked the universe for insight…cause that’s how I roll.
“Hey Universe, What did that dream mean”?
The answer I got was profound, but it also made me laugh.
It said you are seeking balance (the bicycle)
inside your inspiration (the lightning).
How creative of the Universe to pick those images,
but also how PERFECT!
Lately I have been wondering a lot about balance.
When I was younger, balance was nonexistent.
I got a boyfriend, and lost myself so completely
that I couldn’t manage to comb my hair or go to work, let alone returns phone calls or see my friends! I was THAT girl. Ugh.
Total immersion had worked well for me in the past, but
I’m not sure that’s the answer any more.
I’m feeling all this inspiration, but I often feel I’m riding a unicycle,
spinning plates on a pole…in clown pants.
My life for a looooong time was very predictable.
Then I got married, and the plates got thrown in the air,
but I got used to that too.
Now as I’m embarking on this new life, of writing, and doing readings,
I’m not exactly sure how to integrate this with all things old.
Balance…what does that look like?
Old life…New life…
I think I may need training wheels on that bike in the storm
just for awhile.
Am I a writer?
Am I a teacher?
Am I a jeweler?
Am I a singer?
Which one am I?
I NEED A LABEL, so total immersion can occur!
The conclusion I’m coming to is this,
No titles or labels.
Check in with my heart, then do what feels good.
If I want to write, then write!
Doesn’t matter if I’m a “writer”.
If I want to sing, for crissakes sing!
I don’t have to have the title “singer”.
Be in the moment doing what feels good,
Just do the best job I can, and the time for everything will present itself,
and eventually riding in that lightning storm,
won’t feel perilous at all…it will feel invigorating!
“For the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: ‘If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?’ And whenever the answer has been ‘No’ for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.”
– Steve Jobs
In any situation, the best thing you can do is the right thing; the next best thing you can do is the wrong thing; the worst thing you can do is nothing.”
– Theodore Roosevelt
I’m about to rat myself out.
To tell on, or tattle (as my mom used to say).
On myself.
It was definitely NOT my finest moment, but I learned something.
The other day, at my part time job I was asked to do something I consider menial.
I was sitting on the floor sorting papers to be filed (Nope, that’s not the menial part yet, if you can believe it), when I was interrupted by my boss with a request to get up and go run and feed the parking meters.
His car was right in front, the other car was a customer’s which was three blocks away—and across the street.
As I got up and took the credit card, everyone was joking about me going to “play chicken”.
Meaning, running across the busy street, dodging the cars. To feed meters.
First of all,
I’m 55
I don’t RUN anywhere!
But that little request unleashed pure rage inside me!
I didn’t say a word, but I couldn’t make eye contact with anyone because I would burn their cornea’s with my rage—and I know they all felt it.
It was a beautiful day, so as fun as playing chicken sounded, I took the long way around using the crosswalk and I used that time to become an observer of my reaction.
Because…It felt really, really strong and highly inappropriate.
My job is not exactly toiling in the salt mines and in theory, my boss can ask me to do whatever needs to be done. My mind could rationalize it all away, but inside I was seething.
I just kept repeating to myself:
“Chop Wood, Carry Water” an old Zen proverb, which means to find fulfillment in everyday tasks.
You’re probably thinking “what a brat” or worse. Well, don’t worry about it—So was I!!
The list of names I was calling myself could make a sailor blush.
But you feel what you feel and I felt insulted and I HAD to pay attention to that.
Now, here’s where it gets dicey for me:
I’ve either run or owned a store for over 20 years, that is until recently when I lost my own.
I was lucky enough to be offered a part-time job at a friend’s, and I’ve been so grateful to get this work during these hard economic times that I work there for a fraction of what I’m worth, AND instead of being grateful for all of my expertise and years of experience in the field— I’m made to feel as if I’m at the bottom of the pecking order.
After over 25 years in the business, I file papers and I feed parking meters.
Huge, huge humility lesson.
So…I observed all those feelings of
“Don’t you know who I am”? from the outside and recognized a recent stranger…my EGO.
“Oh…hello old friend, nice of you to come back and visit me,
Long time, no feel”!
Since my life got slam dunked in 2009 my ego has been replaced by my victim-hood.
Ego had skulked away to lick his wounds leaving me a shell of my former confident self.
I would never dream of saying “don’t you know who I am”? When I couldn’t even answer the question myself.
I’ve felt NO sense of worthiness or any feelings of accomplishment.
I’ve been behaving like the sad wad of gum on the bottom of someone’s shoe, or a beaten dog who is so incredibly grateful to be treated like shit.
So, by the end of my feed-the-meter walk, I had calmed down—and gotten reacquainted with my ego.
Ego has gotten a bad rap,
After all, we all have one.
You don’t want to give it free rein and let it run your life unless you want to end up drunk, with no money in a foreign jail, with bad tattoos and blue hair.
But sometimes…it DOES come in handy.
Like reminding me of WHO I AM.
Just like that uncomfortable little whisper late at night that says “I think I could do better”
when you’re laying next to someone perfectly fine who’s just not a good fit.
That flush of rage was a reminder of the current disconnect. I do NOT want to be here.
So…I told it I was so happy it was back because I’m ready to have it help me stand a little taller, remember what I’m worth, and make help me forge an exit strategy while continuing to be the best Goddamn paper-filer and meter-feeder on the planet.
I have been a spiritual seeker since I was a teenager
I am also a spiritual coward.
Along the way I have attended many classes,
Heard hundreds of lectures,
Studied numerous religions,
Read more books than I can recall and
Practiced yoga and meditation.
But I did it all covertly.
Like a double agent,
I had two identities.
One was as a 20th century woman in every sense of the word.
The other, a seeker with a ravenous appetite for
for all things of a spiritual nature.
I have always kept the two things separate, lest
someone think I was one of those “woo woo weirdos”.
I kept the two sets of friends separate,
like I was ashamed of what I was doing,
Very concerned with what people would think of me.
Then I met Diana.
She is living this stuff…and she makes it look GOOD!
I found her as a yoga teacher in 1998 and was hooked on her
great classes and her laugh, she’s always laughing!
We became good friends, and I watched as she has navigated both worlds with ease and grace.
Something I have not yet had the courage to do.
I use her as my personal template for what I aspire to be.
As I embark on this new path, embracing my inner writer,
and teacher, she has gently guided me from the sidelines,
I say my prayer every morning for courage.
That I will have the courage to one day fill out a form and
put my occupation as spiritual author and teacher…and own it.
Oh yeah…I want to laugh more easily too!
Just like my beautiful Diana.
*DianaLang.com
I have a dryer with an annoying squeak.
It’s really more of a groan,
like a tiny cello playing soulfully to the socks in dryer limbo.
As the clothes tumble their way to dryness,
this medium pitched whine reminds me that I should call
a repair man…but I never will again.
It has become the “white noise” of my life.
I really hardly notice it anymore,…except when I do,
and then it drives me crazy!
But then I stop and remember.
My husband has tried to fix it,
so has a previous dryer repair guy,
who was there to repair something else.
I had to call his attention to it, as he was running the dryer to see if the other problem was fixed.
“Can you fix that squeak too”? I asked gingerly.
He was grumpy and rushed, and was pretending he couldn’t hear it.
“It’s probably a loose belt” he grumbled, like he was chewing food with his mouth full.
I walked out of the room to leave him to his expert belt-tightening,
Later, I walked down the hall to go check his handiwork and,
Low and behold!! No dryer squeak!
Just silence, which was like
the sound of angels singing…and clothes softly tumbling dry.
All was right with the world.
But I missed the groan,
I missed hearing the tiny cello symphony late at night,
The squeak was familiar,
The whine was comforting,
It was a noisy dryer but it was MY noisy dryer!
I was used to it,
It gave me a warm feeling,
just like the towels inside the dryer.
It soon came back, and I will never silence it again.
We all have some petty annoyances in our lives that are on our
perpetual “to do” list to get rid of, or fix.
There are even some people on that list!
But I’m telling you, they are there to be part of the soundtrack
of our lives.
Like nails on a blackboard some times,
and imperceptible at others.
So ask yourself, would you miss it if it left?
What makes you feel better?
More at home?
Comfy and cozy and familiar?
Silent perfection?
Angels singing?
Or…YOUR own squeaky dryer?
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