walking into light

It's morning and if i lie really still, i can feel something like my spirit embracing me.

I used to dread waking up. It was as if i could relax at night, and dream; while waking up meant the clanging of pots and pans, my ill-tempered and burned out mother cussing her way through a breakfast prep, and my own trepidations about whatever schoolwork i might have forgotten to accomplish.

I want to be more like the spirit that embraces me. I have been assured that this is my destiny: a reunion, of sorts, in which i and others will reconnect with the one-ness that underlies all things. Sometimes i just feel like i want to wake up one morning with that feeling. I want to wake up in light, not dread. I want to release the small attachments to invitations, iPods, fashion trends and junk mail - virtual and actual. When was the world so invited to communicate to me at every second like that?

I feel like despite my desire to connect with the one-ness, i spend most of my time putting up walls: no, we are not friends. no, i don't want to subscribe. no, i won't buy your special cooking gadget. no, you can't stay with me tonight. I want to connect with a better offer. More light. Less hype. I am, frankly, longing for light. Not the sunny kind, i've got that, but the inner lamp. I want to be, and feel, lit up. Yeah.

What is your signature?

Some of my best understandings come not as i read sacred texts or ponder the greatness of the ALL, but later -- over tea, or ironing. When I stop seeking, i find amazing things.

This morning, I wrote to a friend to reply to an invitation she made, with all her enthusiasm, about various events occurring, and coming to light, regarding extra-terrestrial activity. I'm open to these things, but as a person who is open to a lot of things, it's easy to get pulled all over the place, it's easy to become over-stimulated by the flood of offerings on facebook, on linkedin, on chat, on groups, etc., etc. I love her excitement but it doesn't resonate with where i define center.

Without meaning to, I think i landed on my soul's signature. I blurted it out as a contrast to what i felt was information coming at me, "my central purpose is to help people open to the unique expression of their love."


My friend Leandra uses a great piece of wisdom which i share here, "All that is not love will be revealed and healed." There is this weird irony, in which the quietest cup of tea (or coffee) is accompanied by this great, collective spin-down process, where ideas, projects, hopes, dreams, relationships, money and commitments are disconnecting or being altered in surprising ways. The very ground of our life scripts is being shaken, and it can be a hairy experience. The spin down, though, is exactly as it should be, taking out anything that is not essential to who we are, anything that prevents us feeling self-sustaining, self-knowing, self-loving. We are truly walking into the dressing room of "Change or die."

So, with my unique little prods and projects, i make some strange magic to help people more gently shake off the non-essentials and reveal their soul's fingerprint. How can we appreciate what we cannot clearly see or know? How do we hear the song of someone whose voice has been muted through years of adaptation to local conditions? It's time to sing out the new song of our emergent arrangement with the sacred soup of Life herself. The "Great Mother" people speak of resides not just in the earth we love, but in the matrix of the Earth that is possible. She is the fabricator, according to our shared evocation.

And now, for a second cup of tea.....

Love Lights

So I'm sitting at a place called The Admiral. It looks like a night time fantasy of every joint i've ever dreamed of launching. A marine blue ceiling is punctuated by cognac-colored, upside down lampshades whose warm lights spill onto waiters, trays, movement.

There's a really sexy red lamp at the front on an entry table. Is this a little tiny red light district? Seascapes - oil paintings of garage-sale quality - adorn the walls while taverna-style lanterns dangle from chains on either side. It's easy to be here. All are welcome.

They love their meat here: I've chosen a mushroom ragout, but the bartender tells me, "Really, it's nice, but if you choose the meat you'll see why we're so popular." The man next to me is telling his date, "This is the tenderest pork i've ever tasted in all my life."

A younger bartender, farther down, is swiping the counter while singing along to "You can't hurry love." It's strangely gratifying to hear hip, bearded young folks connecting to Motown, and who sing it aloud, in chic restaurants. Over all our heads, more lanterns. I feel I am safely in harbor, while the reality is that i am in the mountains of western north carolina. Wherever i go, i still find the sea, and tiny harbor lights.

In the esoteric teachings, there is a prayer about "bringing to light the love that underlies the happenings of the times." Are these little lanterns love-lights, or am I drinking?

I wonder if that's o.k. -- like, is this the cozy cave of the Great Mother? I mean, if i were the Great Mother, and I had a cozy cave, what lanterns would i choose? What drinks would I serve? How do I display my love?

Love includes, but is different from, attachment, which involves a cloying, clinging kind of feeling. Love is an enchanted appreciation. Love is something you bring offerings to. Love is something that makes time drown under the power of appreciation. And yes, you can have it on your back, if you like. Or you can float, or roll, or dance.

Love is a way of radiating universal appreciation, while noting the exquisite particulars.

These words come out when i am well fed: Love, light, nourishment, appreciation. Mmmmmm.

Sicko

Michael Moore has done it again. I think he's topped himself, really. Perhaps i'm reacting this way because health psychology was the field of my original training. I don't know.

But now I'm angry. I just resent the fact that here in the u.s., we go on and on (especially on the congressional floor) about what a great country this is, but in fact, it's just a boastful country. America is going to the dogs. Perhaps we should give those dogs a name......

Here are the kinds of dogs that thrive in America and thus name it a great country: Lawyers, who get paid to fight, no matter who wins, or whether justice is served. Congresspeople, who get bought and paid for by lobbyists, and who make it their job to look good and cast a sunny image, so that they can get re-elected. HMO executives, who make more money the sicker we get, and the more accustomed we get to receiving less and less, in exchange for paying more and more, for healthcare we don't receive. Then there are the finance dogs, who get paid TONS of money to manage money. That's a game that has other people - the non-money-manager types - making less and less on their own money. People forget that banks make money because of their clients' deposits! And now the banks pay next to nothing, and then go use the funds to make real money through trading various debt instruments or investments. So.... the person with the savings account gets the shaft, while the banker makes the money! Finally, let's not forget that America is the land of promise for mercenary armies and weapons manufacturers.

These are the dogs that have taken over our country. And yet politicians are going to line up again this fall, proclaim their love for children and family, their opposition to crime and drugs, and that's going to be the ballgame. This has become the ultimate gaming ground, a place where democracy is a word used to allow childish adults the voting option between bedtime at 8, or bedtime at 8:15. Either way, the dogs are going to take the candy out of our hands, lie us down, and screw us while we sleep.

really, it's time for better, bolder dreams

I do a reasonable amount of leadership consulting. Enough to get my kids through college and leave me room to become my highest self. I indulge in lots of continuing ed, inner strengthening, and time to get clear, so that while my client people feel muddled, i can help them feel less so, and connect them with mastery they didn't know they could achieve.

In the course of that work, a "mission, vision and values" phase is practically inevitable; and that's where the trouble starts. What troubles me, as i move from world to world (some big, fancy and established; some scrappy and well-wired; some reverent and dusty) is that people dream very small dreams. They want to be better than the guy before them. They want a nickel. They want to not starve. They want to not lose their jobs. They want to make, or - gasp! - exceed their quotas.

These are dreams that make the muses and the soul say "why bother." These are classroom dreams, served up for the teacher. These aren't dreams, these are tired hopes that the weight of soullessness will somehow be magically lifted, and the boss will get off their back.

I don't mean to judge my clients, but i am troubled because we are creating our future by investing our hopes, dreams, vision, focus, motivation and commitment into one direction or another. I see a lot of people committing themselves to a life of brown suits and fluorescent lights, with fake plants and desks made of something mysterious, covered over with bad veneers. Everything is so shallow, and so fake, that the whole environment conspires to take people down into a matrix of plodding and pressing. This, in turn, requires copious amounts of coffee in the morning to jumpstart, and alcohol in the evening to wash off the tension.

Meanwhile, our greatest ambition has been to put a man on the moon. If we can put a man on the moon, can we please begin to serve nutritious food to the 150 million or so kids in school? Can we liberate learning from the desk and the multiple choice form? Can we teach financial planning and conflict resolution and farming and tracking skills? Can we allow room for art and openness? Can we, please?

I dream of a day when people dare to set their sights higher. the irony of this whole dilemma is that if you dare to set your sights higher, it is actually liberating. People feel fresh, and alive, and are willing to say "yeah!" or, "Hell yeah!" if you give them an idea that really pleases them. inspiration IS energizing, vitalizing. we need dreams that inspire us. please.

Just thinkin' about investments

I'm sort of obsessed with our investment system, and the way that it's divided between all-profit on the one hand, with publicly held companies doing whatever - anything - to increase profits while the CEOs are paid absurd sums; and charity on the other hand, where cash goes into businesses that do their best to relieve social pains and address tragedies and injustices.

I feel like there's this gap in the middle, i keep seeing businesses that wouldn't necessarily scale, and yet are doing o.k., but it causes the founders a lot of personal stress to stay on the for-profit side of the line. With grants and support, they could really expand their reach; but they don't qualify.

This is irksome! And yet i don't know which powers-that-be could help me solve this problem. if you're one of the people reading this blog, please help me solve this puzzle. 'night.

The tricky thing about goldfish

Once upon a time I took my three young children to the State Fair of Texas. Not all state fairs are fantastic, but the Texas one is - natch - huge. A panoply of overdressed chicks, new gadgets, expensive rides, colorful games and animals of every stripe. While doing the gaming booths, one of my brood won the grand prize: a pair of goldfish. Live ones. In a Ziploc, for Christ's sake

We were so excited to have these LIVE things as souvenirs. More excited than we were about the turkey legs, cotton candy and stuffed animals that are ubiquitous at these events. So, fine.

We walked the four miles back through the parking lot and made it to the pet store, where we spent about a thousand dollars on a bowl, some rocks, fantasy fish furniture, bubbly things to keep the water clear, and of course, fish food. These goldfish were going to have a great address. One thing you should know about me, i like everybody to live in a beautiful, nurturing environment.

We put the fish into the Better-homes-and-gardens bowl, filled with fresh water from the tap, and watched them awhile. Then i did what i always do: find dirty dishes and food products to manage. By the time dinner was ready, our prize fish were belly up.

Sometimes i just don't ask the right questions, and in my detailed investigation of aesthetics and the nuance of fish beauty, i overlook other details: turns out, goldfish have a really, really hard time with temperature change. like, a fatally hard time. Terminal time.

Even little changes are really really hard when they involve our daily environment. Sudden change, that's a bitch. But i learned something then: invisible things matter a lot. And patience really is a virtue. We couldn't save those fish, but we did better with a second set. I think humans are more resilient, but often in my professional work i see people suffering in their daily environments, while their leaders give them all the food they know how to give; but it's not the same. The right environment is sensitive, subtle, and balanced. It's not about more, it's about fit. Fish, and fit. Makes for better swimming time.