awareness


I’m back after an extended absence from the world of blogging. Finally I have the space and inspiration to get back to it, to share my experience, and to hear all about yours. What your heart feels, what you’re learning about yourself, the cobwebs, the crevices, the light and dark. What a journey we’re on. The world would be a very different place if we each had our own planet and we did this thing called life alone. Thank god we get to share  love, that wellspring of goodness.

Since I’ve been away from blogging I’ve had some fabulous experiences. I sat a 20-day Vipassana course in November. It was a doozy but I am incredibly grateful for the experience, for what I gained (or lost…depending on your angle).

I spent 2 weeks in February at the Optimum Health Institute. The Optimum Health Institute is a raw/living food detoxification program. You eat a raw diet designed for detoxification &  drink more wheatgrass than you ever thought humanly possible (you do other things with the wheatgrass as well, but they are better left off the blog). Why would you want to subject yourself to this? Some people go to treat “health opportunities” (that is OHI code for illness or disease, and feels much different when you say it…opportunity implies you can make a difference…this rings really true if you have a health opportunity like I have). Others go simply to clean up. After years of eating things that come from a can or a box and have lists of ingredients that you can’t pronounce, the body becomes a bit of a toxic dump. (Poor, poor temple. What have we done to thou?) At OHI you detox and come away feeling like a shiny temple inside. Truly. When I returned home people couldn’t stop telling me how amazing my skin looked, how amazing I looked. I do not eat an exclusively raw diet now, but 2 meals a day and all of my snacks are raw, and the cooked food I eat is food I’ve made myself so I know what is in it (no more dairy, refined sugar, gluten, caffeine….yes I broke that wicked black tea habit). The experience at OHI was a huge act of self-love.

Lastly, my favorite yoga teacher read a poem in class the other day by Hafiz. It moved me to tears. Of course I am also just really happy to be back at yoga, because status post the development of my health opportunity 3 years ago, it has taken a while for me to get back to her level of class. My gawd does it feel heavenly . The poem:

“Your Mother and My Mother”

Fear is the cheapest room in the house
I would like to see you living
In better conditions,
for your mother and my mother
Were friends.

I know the Innkeeper
In this part of the universe.
Get some rest tonight,
Come to my verse tomorrow.
We’ll go speak to the Friend together.

I should not make any promises right now,
But I know if you
Pray
Somewhere in this world-
Something good will happen.

God wants to see
More love and playfulness in your eyes
For that is your greatest witness to Him.


Your soul and my soul
Once sat together in the Beloved’s womb
Playing footsie.

Your heart and my heart
are very, very old
Friends.


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Today is day 2 of a liver/gallbladder flush. Recently I started sensing the need to slow down and do a little cleansing/purging. I’ve heard a dear friend talk about amazing results with this flush for years, and finally the time felt right to do it myself. It isn’t your run-of-the-mill liver cleanse. It is a cleanse on steroids. It culminates in the excretion (that is the pleasant way to say it) of hundreds to thousands of “stones”. I know several people who have done this flush, and they all verify the results. There is no fasting which is really nice. We clean our cars, our homes, our workspace, it only makes sense to give the temple a deep cleanse every so often.

So I’m taking it easy, meditating, reading, and moving slowly. It feels good.

This weekend as I’m “flushing” out the stones, I’m going to do the same to my house/closet. There is a huge feeling of satisfaction brewing.

Check it out: The Amazing Liver Gallbladder Flush by Andreas Moritz

I’ll fill you in after this weekend when the “flushing” really takes place.

2259321835_822ab0c920Here is some of  what the OED has to say about spontaneous:

Performed or occurring without external cause or stimulus; coming naturally or freely, unpremeditated; voluntarily, done of one’s own accord; unconstrained, uninhibited, natural.

I’ve been moving into a new way of being, a new way of conducting myself. And I have found it INCREDIBLY difficult to leave the old habits behind. Here it is: I am NOT a planner. It stresses me out to make plans a week from now or two weeks from now. I don’t want a “phone date” on a Thursday evening. I want to talk on the phone when I feel moved to do so. I realize there are times when planning is necessary, but largely, I don’t like to make plans. I find when I am living from a place of planning I begin to run from one thing to the next, regardless of whether I actually want to be doing that thing in that moment. It begins to feel the opposite of unconstrained, uninhibited, natural.

 What feels MUCH better to me, is to not plan and let things arise naturally. If I am feeling spacious on a given afternoon and I wish to see a friend, then I’ll call and if it works out that we can get together, great. But if I am feeling more like I want to meditate or read or simply sit on the back porch and watch the robins hopping around in the grass on their search for worms, then I want the freedom to choose to do that.

I find that in the moment I’ll know what I really want to do, and not until then. The eternal moment before us contains a vast amount of wisdom. It is from whence we arise. It feels so much more spacious to be able to choose freely how to spend my time from that space. What is difficult about it for me is being that honest with people. In the past I’ve tended not to return phone calls as opposed to calling someone back and saying,” no, sorry, largely I don’t make plans anymore.” It feels like a hard thing to say to people .

But I am going to say it. Practice makes perfect. (or practice makes it easier, anyway)

I’m more interested in staying in alignment with what makes me feel free, spacious, inspired. And if I am there, I’ll actually have far more to give…

It is what has to happen for me to be authentic.

 

Last week I had the pleasure of a cup of tea with Lisa Jones, author of Broken- A Love Story. Speckled with a yellow-gold hue, her blue eyes sparkled as she talked about her experience coming to know Stanford Addison, a renowned spiritual healer who is a quadriplegic, Native American, Traditional Healer, Horse-Gentler, who lives on the Wind River Indian Reservation in Wyoming, and is the subject of her debut book. This is a memoir you want to read. It will move you. It is a gorgeous account of  how the rawest bits of life come to transform you-if you let them. If you have four minutes, watch the you-tube trailer below. It brought tears to my eyes.

Some years back Lisa was a veteran journalist living on the Western slope of Colorado in Paonia, when she heard about this quadriplegic horse-gentler who leads these amazing clinics in Wyoming.

“I pitched the story to Outside magazine three times,” Lisa said, ” and they just didn’t get it. I was thinking, if you don’t get this, why do I keep asking you. He’s a traditional healer, horse-gentler, quadriplegic, Native American. What’s not to get? Then I pitched the story to Smithsonian magazine. They said, ‘Go there now. Go right now.’ So I went. That’s how I met Stan.”

“The minute I laid eyes on Stan I thought, Oh God. I’m in trouble. Things are going to change. I just knew it–in my body. It wasn’t anything he said or anything mental. It was absolute body knowledge. But it takes a while for those seeds to plant. I didn’t think I’d break a horse and the next thing you know, I’m breaking a horse and flying through the air. I completely trusted him. And that’s not my specialty.”

Me: Completely trusting someone?

“Completely trusting men. Living in Colorado most of my life I’d done alot of scary things like white water kayaking. Men would try to tell me what to do. And it wasn’t very pleasant for me. But here I was like, ‘Whatever, I’ll get back on that horse.’

“You have these amazing experiences and then you go home and write your little article and go back to your regular job. Almost a year later I was like, Oh my God, I’m going back [to the Indian reservation].

Me: You knew you weren’t done?

“It took me many months to realize, I’m so not done. And all of that cultural conditioning of ‘no, it’s so far away, and it’s a little bit scary, and it’s so foreign, and there’s the horrible weight of history everywhere.’ It took me a while to clear those vines away enough to just ask him if I could write a book about him. And he was fine with it.”


Me: In the book you mention that the experience changed you. How does that manifest?

“Stan fixed the Daddy problem. I had quite a strange father. Not evil, just strange. A weird dude who happened to be a psychiatrist. Not a perfect combination for little girls. I had an impressive house built on a shitty foundation. I was very high-functioning, had alot of friends, a good job, I worked hard, and dated lots of men. And there’s the operative thing–I dated lots of guys. I didn’t stick with one because I thought they were untrustworthy people in general. And Stan has this healing field. No matter what’s wrong with you–whether it’s a serious disease or your Dad is a weird psychiatrist–it’ll shift if you hang out with him long enough.”

“It is so intense on the reservation in every way, every way. I really needed someone I could trust and here’s this man, and that’s my issue right there. It was a scary place. Alot like childhood, maybe, where everything is big and uncontrollable. The reservation is like that. You need someone you can trust and he was that person, and he proved that, again and again. And that almost slipped this whole foundation under me. I learned to stop hating. The faith thing increased enormously. Probably in other ways than with men, but that was the place in my life that it was completely lacking.”

“The minute I met him I was like, he sees me. My first response was fear. I didn’t want him to see me because I’m so flawed. But he saw everything in me. And I got better. He saw me do some less than perfect things, but he sees what he sees. It makes you wonder about God and childhood. What do we need to be a whole human being? I think that as a child, if your Mom and Dad see you–if you feel they really see you–something relaxes and clicks into place. Things can grow normally. If that doesn’t happen you become clenched in a certain way. I was clenched in a certain way. I think that’s almost the same thing with God. If God can see me–everything–then I’m good. I don’t know what the difference is between a little kid and their parent, me and Stan, and someone and God. I don’t know if there is a difference.”

“It was really interesting watching Stan in Jackson Hole the other day [at the reading at the Center for the Arts, a theatre with 500 seats]. Stan absolutely commanded that audience. It was so beautiful to see. Here he is in this afflicted body with his voice, and his amazing sense of humor, and his way of putting everyone else at ease. And here are all these folks from Jackson Hole, and you could just see them falling for him. People need this so badly. The hunger is so deep. And I shouldn’t be surprised by that. I felt it myself when I said, ‘I’m going there now [to write the book about him]. He offers a little bit of a window. What’s coming through him–you want it. It’s like he is a hose, and you want water. You want to be at the end of that hose. I could see people really be affected by him. He is offering himself up.”

To have your name entered in a random drawing to win this book, Broken-A Love Story, e-mail me: molly@destinationthejourney.com, put “Broken” in the subject of the e-mail. The drawing will take place on Monday, July 6. And yes, I’ll ship the book overseas.



I heard a story last week that moved me enough to want to share it.

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My brother–one with a diligent meditation practice but with the occasional doubt in his heart–is one of the most fabulous individuals on the face of the planet. On the eve of his thirty-fourth birthday  last week, he was having a languid afternoon. He gave himself the permission to blow off yoga, and decided he didn’t even want to attempt to go surfing, even though it was a stunning afternoon in Santa Cruz,  the air warm, the water glassy and calm. After succumbing to this torpor and lounging around the house for some time, an internal voice galvanized Matt to put his surfboard in his truck, even though he felt absolutely no desire to be active. With some resistance, he listened to that little voice, got into his truck, and drove twenty miles south to Manresa, a beach that is part of a state park.

When he arrived the waves were not fit for surfing. He sat in his car for a moment, thinking about turning around and leaving. A new sign caught his eye. He opened the door and stepped out of his truck to read it. Just then a teenage girl wearing black and with multiple piercings, approached him and asked if he had a phone she could use.

“Sure,” he said. She spent about ten minutes sitting on a curb, trying to call someone over and over, and not getting through. Eventually she handed him his cell phone, and he could detect that she was uneasy. 

“Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked.

“Are you going back to santa Cruz?” 

“Sure,” he replied. “Do you need a ride?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Can you take me to the bus station?” Matt offered her almonds and water and found out that her Mom was supposed to pick her up at Manresa, but hadn’t shown up. Eventually the girl reached her mother who was in the middle of a drinking binge. 

“You’re an angel,” she told Matt when they arrived at the bus station. She sat for a moment before jumping out. 

“Do you need bus fare?” Matt asked. She nodded and he handed her some money.

“Thanks for everything,” she said. And before she jumped out, he said, “I’m Matt. What’s your name?”

“Faith,” she said, and with that she hopped out and disappeared into the bus station.

 

It gave my brother goose bumps and actually brought tears to my eyes when I heard it.

 

CIMG0519My brother, Matt

 

I like to revisit this question every once in a while:

 

Is there anywhere in my life where I am being less than authentic?

 

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Since I am responsible for all of my tomorrows, is there anywhere I could show up more fully, more honestly?

In my dealings with myself and others, am I coming from an authentic place?

The need to look at this arises for me when I find myself acting out of some need (ie pleasing others),

rather than coming from a place where truth resides.

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Axinia, the lovely blogger behind 1000petals, wrote a post on evolution recently.  Her discussion juxtaposed evolution of the human race with evolution of the individual–that is evolution of the individual in a spiritual sense. A growth sense.

Her post really got me thinking. I’ve heard it said, by the wisest of the wise in my opinion, that as it is above, so it is below. For example, in nature we see transition, and we’ve come to know that really, that is all we are doing here. Transitioning. 

We see cycles repeat themselves. Fall gives way to winter, to spring, to summer. The moon’s phases. The tides. A woman’s menstrual cycle. It all seems to work in cycles. On a very macroscopic scale it has become apparent that the universe is expanding. This behavior is quantified and observed. In general it seems that the overwhelming feeling in science is that it is expanding eternally. But there are prominent scientists who have come up with a theory, backed by mathematical equations, that the universe will not do so eternally. That it will eventually begin to contract again, and eventually another big-bang will happen, and so-on and so-forth. Kind of like eternal seasons. Cycles. Without understanding the science behind any of it, I’m on board with the latter theory. But I digress.

The evolution piece: if we observe the macroscopic evolve (humanity, nature), and we see the microscopic evolve (the soul, well, sometimes), would it be fair to assume that eternity–the divine– is also evolving? 

I realize that we can only deliberate about that (at least from where I stand). Maybe the perfectly enlightened individual gets it because they are, well, enlightened. 

What are your thoughts? 

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The false summit phenomenon happens when you’ve been hiking all day, and hungry, thirsty, and borderline headache from the altitude looming, you think you’re about to summit. It looks like the peak is right before you and you’re going to bag it and merrily make your way down the mountain. But just as you reach the so-called peak, you realize it is not actually the summit. Rather it is a false summit, and behind it looms the actual peak and it always seems a bit bigger and more daunting than the first. Not to mention you now have that headache from the altitude.

The options are to employ your (in the words of Liz Rosenberg) divine stubborness and climb that second peak. Or turn around and go home because you’re a bit disappointed and feel, well, a little deflated.

After spending several days steeped in the realities of the New York publishing industry at the Backspace Writer’s Conference,  I realize that what I had my sights set on was a false summit. I’ve been working on a book for two years entitled “Learning to Walk in India.” Finishing the book is the easy part. The false summit. And I pause, with merely a hint of deflation left as I tighten the pack (that’s backpack for us Coloradans), take a long sip of water (that’s meditate for us sitters), and keep pressing on with a resolve as mighty as the task at hand.  There is no turning back here. Only one foot slowly in front of the other as I look toward the second peak. 

After all, the journey is the destination.

I was really moved to return and see all of your comments on that last post, What is happiness. You guys make me happy. Well, you rock, really.

Alice, I would have loved to have met you in NYC. Just logged on this morning. Perhaps next time when my book is being published…  :)

Barry, thanks for the link to Sakyong Mipham Rinpoche’s song: What About Me. I listened to it this morning. It was just what I needed to hear. If anyone has a few moments, I recommend checking it out. We first encountered it on Alice’s blog and then Barry reminded me of it, saying that the video clip makes it clear that “happiness-the heart being free-comes when we turn away from “What about me?” and turn toward “How can I help you?”. Thanks, all of you.

 

What About Me:

 


Is happiness anything less than the Divine?

I suppose I’d have to define my perception of the divine, which I’m not prepared to do right now, as I’m off to NYC tomorrow for a writing conference. But I am curious what your thoughts are on the matter.

Here is what one NYTimes blogger has to say:

http://happydays.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/05/25/happy-like-god/

 

~

On another note: Inspiration

CIMG1540me and Elizabeth Gilbert–Eat, Pray, Love

 

Realize Truth

                Though it bring us to our knees

CIMG1780Respect the individual journey 

 

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The unfurling, the drinking in

of what is true, what is real,

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Silent hope,

       bounced lithely from a petal by a humming bee,

                        that each life,

                                     however big or small,

                                                  is an exquisite, productive symphony

 

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That we may each stand,

satiated,

in our own curved and crooked form,

and breathe the breath of life,

unified. 

 

 

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