“Divine Guidance is yours for the asking. It is not enough merely to know that Divine Guidance exists – you must use it.” – Ernest Holmes
“This Thing Called You” pg 63.
Sometimes using Divine Guidance means we have to get out of our own way long enough to ask for it. We find ourselves in situations we have no control over or have a sense that everything we’re doing is going against the grain of who we really are. While we’re busy trying to do what we think is best we can lose sight of the actual direction we should go. The beauty of God and his Divine Guidence is that it’s always there waiting for us to turn to it and…simple ask.
It’s amazing how clarity comes once we do and nothing seems as bad as we thought it was. It’s that Divine Guidance that brings me into the now and reminds me that all that matter is where I find myself in each moment and it’s a funny thing…because those moments feel like a lifetime when I’m in them.
I went to great length on Sunday to plan out my week. It’s the only way I can get the things I want done. I got up as planned and wrote for two hours. Got dressed so I could walk Lucy after I ate. While I was making my smoothie, it splattered all over me and the kitchen. I stood there; you know the way you do when time stands still, and you’re not sure if you want to scream or cry. I remembered how it was when my kids were little, and they’d drop milk on the floor all the time. I came to repeat the quote “That there’s no use in crying over spilled milk.” What’s done is done, and the only thing left to do is clean it up. As I was eating, I remembered a quote I read the other day. “Do not lose your inner peace for anything whatsoever, even if your whole world seems upset.” -St Francis de Sales
As I headed out the door to walk Lucy, I ran into my neighbor. She has a one year and is expecting her second child. The baby she’s carrying has some severe problems that will require surgeries as soon as it’s born. She and her husband have a lot of faith, and they’re trusting in God’s will. Instead of going on about herself she wanted to know how I was doing. She is living the words of St. Francis de Sales. She wasn’t going to let anything take her inner peace away, and yet she has every right to feel as if her whole world is upset.
As I proceed to walk on with Lucy, I thought how the unplanned things find a way of eating up our time. My well-planned morning wasn’t going as I’d anticipated. Yet, it’s those unforeseen things that remind us what’s important. That where we find ourselves is often where we’re supposed to be and what matters is being mindful of what those moments have to teach us. It’s in the space between the moments that we catch a glimpse of God. And grace fills us from our head to our toes with its everlasting peace. It’s where we find our caring heart too that makes us want to reach out and ask, what can I do for my neighbor today?
My soul reminds me today that there is a power within me that is greater than anything that life brings my way. It is the place of being where I stand with the lemons of life in my hands…and choice enters in. I can choose the limited sour bitterness it creates. Or let the sweetness of the spirit within teach me how to turn lemons into lemon aid.
”The resistance to the unpleasant situation is the root of suffering.”-Ram Dass
What if the rosebud remained tightly folded within itself? Can you feel the tension of its resistance. It’s like it’s going against itself. All the energy it uses to hold itself back weakens and destroys it before it ever has the chance to know the full blossom of its purpose.
There is not only an infectious love fever going around this time of year with Valentine Day on the horizon, but spring fever is in the air as well. They both involve one big symptom, LOVE, and with all the flu and viruses going around this is one feverish infection I don’t mind catching.
While the Valentine cards we get in the mail will come and go, the gardening magazines and seed catalog’s will give us something longer lasting to read through, plan with, and dream about. We could all use a few dreams of sunshine and warmer weather about now, don’t you agree?
It was my Dad who taught me the love of gardening, but it was a special friend who taught me how the love of gardening could be compared to friendship. In a card she sent me many years ago she wrote that, “Friends are like flowers in the garden of life.” She taught me that our friendships need the same care and nurturing that our gardens do if we want them to continue blooming.
Every year at this time I think of her as my garden magazine’s and seed catalogs come in the mail. It’s a time not only to plan my gardens, but also to check-in with how well I’ve been nurturing and tending my friendships.
Whether it’s the love of your honey, family, friends or the things you enjoy doing where there is love everything in life blossoms .
This is dedicated to you my dear friend…Denise.
I was reading a wonderful article in my “Country Garden” magazine by Margaret Roach called “Sparrows.”
It wasn’t the particular title that caught my eye although I do love sparrows. It was the quote she wrote below it: “A busy life with a long to-do-list means some of the smallest things go unnoticed–but those small things can teach us big lessons.”
Sometimes I can’t even get to the task at hand because I’m too busy putting things on my to-do-list. Then onto the business of figuring out how I’m going to get them all done.
She goes on in the article to say; “If I could only slow down and be still someday, I’d (—-fill in the blank).” And I’m thinking to myself, I’m retired. I don’t have to do this or that if I don’t really want to. As a matter of fact I’m the one who writes about being in the moment all the time.
Sometimes having a snowy day where we can’t do much of anything else gives us the opportunity to slow down and ask ourselves that very question, what could I do?
I picked my magazine up because I’d been wanting to read it for a while. I opened it to this article first thing, and in this small gesture I got a reminder lesson on the more important things in life. All we have exist within our untamed moments, and if we’re too busy cluttering our thoughts with things to do later, we miss out on what life has to show and offer us…in the now.
I struggle like everyone else trying to figure out life. I wonder why this or that happens? Why people think the way they do? Why I can’t make everything better in the world? I call it the woe-is-me place. Like a fly caught in a spider web whining all my thoughts, feelings and emotions out-loud. It takes a lot of effort to pull myself out of the sticky web. Some days I can do it, and other days I remain trapped and unfocused. I turn to prayer, but nothing comes…until I let go. It is then that I begin to write, because that’s what I do, and an answer comes.
The spirit pours into your soul all that is good and right, perfect love. Remember the times your cup has overflowed with joy. It only takes receptivity to receive. The spirits only desire…is to give of Itself.
Whether you are willing to have the awareness or not, the spirit continues to pour. It is what you choose to see that places your hand over the cup or takes it away to receive.
How do I know the difference? I ask.
The simplicity of the answer is in knowing how you’re feeling. If you feel sick, tired, sad, depressed anxious or heartfelt sorrow. That is the first indication that you are blocking the flow. Awareness is the first step, action is next. Take your hand away from the rim of your soul, and let the spirit’s healing love flow through all your woe’s.
What I learned is, when I’m out of the way, letting go of what I can’t control. That’s when I enter into the flow of life, and all is good and right again. With the gift of receiving, comes the overflowing gift of giving. I realize what overflows from each of us…flows out into the world…because perfect love cannot be contained, and the beauty in turn is that we become an extension of that Love ourselves.
Nothing ever goes away until it has taught us what we need to know.” -Pema Chodron
I love painting pictures with my words. It starts when I’m trying to figure something out. I visualize what I’m thinking in an animated or metaphoric way that helps me make sense of it. So, what is my carpet bag of baggage?
It’s a rug big enough to fit all the stuff I’ve collect along the various journeys of my-life. It’s an ugly carpet, full of untruths, most of them having to do with my self-esteem. It’s all tied together with the black rope of fear. I’m so used to carrying it around that I don’t even feel how much it’s weighing me down most of the time. It’s in those moments when I’m paying attention to life that it falls off my shoulder. It’s a wonderful feeling as if I’ve sucked in some helium and I’m floating right above the ground. And I wonder why it can’t be like this all the time.
When the black rope of fear sees me happy it starts to untie itself around the carpet. Moving like a snake. Fear knows I’m afraid of snakes. It’s the way it gets my attention. As the carpet bag begins to slowly open all the dreadful demeaning voices jump around shouting me, me, me pick me. All it takes is for me to believe one demeaning thought of worthiness, and I’ll find myself standing upon the rug that fear uses, to pull the joy right out from under me.
But I’m seeing a little clearer now. They say, you have to see what needs changed, before you can change it. As the quote says about, “nothing goes away until it has taught us what we need to know.” I’m learning one thing for sure, that as big as fear looks, what lies on the other side of it is majestic.
I posted the other day about being a ward of the state when I lived in Philadelphia. As I mentioned it’s been 50 years since I ran away from Stenton Child Center. I was 15, and the year was 1968. The same year Martin Luther King was assassinated. I can remember to this this day the screams I heard from the supervisors, and the other black girls in my section. I was one of the few white girls living in a prominently black community. I knew little about him, but then I didn’t know much about anything that was going on in the world. I was too busy worrying about what was going on in my little world.
I won’t get into all I went through in this post. What I will say is that no white person could ever possible know what it’s like to be in a black person’s shoes. I did, however, know how it felt to be a minority among the black people. Eventually there was no color between us, we were all in there for the same reason, and that became our bond. So, for a short time we were living Dr. King’s dream of equality for all in our own little part of the world. Unfortunately, when he died the bond between us was severed again, and we went back to being black and white instead of just human beings.
People ask me all the time; how did you live through all that and turn out to be okay? Like Martin Luther King, I had a dream too, and believed in a God who said it was possible. But God never gives us anything we don’t have to work at. Whether it’s a young girl dreams or a strong man’s passion, nothing is handed to us without hard work and sacrifice. I don’t have to wonder if dreams come true. I am living proof that they do, but keeping that dream alive takes work too. Maybe if we all had a dream of better things instead of focusing on what divides us we’d see the one thing that makes us all the same…our humanity.