“Is it true?…Is it necessary?…Is it kind?”
Does anyone use their head anymore? You know that thing that sits inside our skull, behind our eyes, between our ears. It’s like a seed in a shell that is nurtured by our thoughts, and what we feed it becomes the world we create around us.
When I was growing up, we were constantly being reminded to think about what we say before we speak. It gives us a moment of pause before we say something stupid or worse than that something we’ll regret.
Everyone has an opinion about this or that today, and there’s nothing wrong with sharing your thoughts if you know the facts behind them. Where does your truth come from and what is it founded on?
While my truth may not be your truth, I sure do want it to represent and reflect my values. Truth should not hold us bound to any one way of thinking. It’s supposed to set us free according to Jesus.
The only hard thing about guarding the gateway of our lips is taking the time to stop the words before we let them slip out. Rumi gives us a sifter to run our thoughts through by simply asking ourselves:
Is it true?
Is it necessary?
Is it kind?
As I sit watching the funeral of our 41st President Bush I am awestruck by all those who represent us as Americans and how we can come together as a nation in the most poignant moments in our country.
We as Americans crave this kind of hope right now. That the possibility for a country we can once again be proud of lives on in such an honest example as President Bush represented.
I heard a women say only yesterday that we as a nation need more hope.
As one great leader leaves us the last thing I feel he leaves us with is “hope.”
This morning as I tuned into the Today show Al Roker made the most torturous looking face when reminded that today is the beginning of the 2020 presidential election. I turned it off feeling the same unpleasant feelings that Al’s face portrayed.
Sitting in the quiet with my cup of coffee felt as blinding as the sunlight did after all this ran.
It felt like a much needed rude awakening, and I went into prayer:
”Hi God! It’s me! Do you remember me? Cause I was kind of hoping you could remind me who I am and what I’m here for.”
”Hi Connie! It’s God! Can you hear me cause I’ve been trying to get your attention but you’ve been kind of preoccupied lately.
-I’ve been trying to tell you to untether yourself from fear.
-To speak your truth, than let it go.
-That there is always hope as long as you’re living.
-To respect the uniqueness of each individual because as different as I created you each to be there is purpose in what each soul has to offer.
-Be mindful of what you think, say, do and eat.
-Remember the gifts I give you are the same I give everyone else freedom, choice and above all else love.
-Who you are is an expression of that from which you were created.
-Your soul’s purpose is to experience life right where you are and to be a living expression of that truth from which you come.
-Finally stop making things harder than they actually are, let go and let yourself…be.”
I was walking along my path of life on this cold autumn morning. The sun shinning brightly down on me warmed my cold bones. Deep in thought I looked up and stopped in my tracts to marvel at the intricate woven lace of a spider web sparkling in the sunlight. Each thread interwoven just as we weave our own life. It reminds me of something I once read about the golden thread of Divinity that runs through each of us connecting one to the other. Like the spider who creates a beautiful lacy web, we can spin and weave a beautiful tapestry of our own life with the golden thread that exist within each of us. Like the spider who doesn’t have to think about how to do it, neither do we, it will simple become what we put into it.
Today is the 15th Anniversary of my Dads passing. I miss his smile, his wisdom, and most of all his hugs.
Parents are like God in a way. They hold, care, tend, and love us even though they have their own agendas in life. At some point they have to put us down so we can walk on our own. Dad’s death was a time for me that felt as if I was wondering in the desert all alone. I wondered how I would know how to do all that was yet to come without him to talk it over with. What I learned was that just like God’s word had been planted in my heart, mind and soul. So had the wisdom of my Dad’s words. Two fathers working together to teach me how to stand on my own and live the best life I could.
Those that we love in this world will leave us one day. Cherish the time you have now with them. Learn from the wisdom they have to share. And as my Dad would often say to me, “take what you can from my words that resonate with you now, and leave the rest behind for another time.”
“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.
Today I went back to place I lived in Philadelphia. I haven’t seen since the day I ran away in 1968. That’s 50 years ago. It was an institution in Philadelphia called Stenton Child Center. My younger sister and I were supposed to feel fortunate that we were in such a nice place. Most of the places the state provided for abandon children were pretty run down. There is no place on earth that could be better than being with your own family no matter how difficult things are at home.
I didn’t know how I would react when I actually saw it. As we began to approach I felt only a moment panic, that quickly turned to curiosity. I couldn’t believe how much it looked the same after all these years. The memories so fresh in my mind and stories yet to tell. I couldn’t go inside because it’s now a shelter for homeless families, but I was okay with that because I felt like the monster it represented in my mind for so many years no longer had a hold on me.
On my way home I wondered about how this applies to what I wrote about yesterday in relation to place of shifting I find myself. Of all the different places I’ve been, this was by far the worst ground I’d ever worked in my life. But it’s also yielded the most growth in my life. It was a time of planting, growing, and nurturing. It was full of many cultivating opportunities that could have yielded many weeds, but instead continues to teach and bear much fruit.
I am not only in the winter of the season, but nature teaches another lesson in my life, that I am in the winter of my shifting cultivation. A time to rest, re-evaluate, contemplate, let go and chill out on a icebergs going with the rivers flow.