Wisdom

Wisdom is not learned from a book. Wisdom is revealed by our willingness to crack out of our limitations.

Although I will go on from these two simple sentences this is really all that needs to be written about Wisdom.

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We come into this world with an inordinate amount of wisdom.  Slowly overtime we forget how to access this wisdom.  As we move further into our lives we begin to believe that it is only through learning and experience that our wisdom develops.  We take courses on ancient philosophy in hopes of developing a storage box of knowledge.  This knowledge, we surmise, will bring to us the wisdom necessary to have long, productive, and happy lives.  We add the assumption that receiving an A+ in the course work will ensure the production of enlightened wisdom.  It is important to read and learn about all the aspects of our life.  It is equally important to not rely on just books to develop our wisdom.

The real wisdom we are seeking is deep within us just waiting for the beginning of a crack.  A very simple crack that allows for a glimmer of light to shine into the darkness.  The dark recesses we have been reluctant to peak into out of fear.  These areas don’t hold boogie men or demons.  They hold an ancient and knowing piece of us.  A piece that once accessed brings forth more life.  This life refuels and gifts us.  It doesn’t run out.  It isn’t expensive.  It is rich with an understanding of purpose, calm, and a love that soothes our aches.

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Wisdom comes into us daily.  It is the sunshine that enters our homes nudging us to begin anew.  It is the laughter filled moment.  Even those moments you wished hadn’t come bring wisdom.  A wisdom that nurtures deeper than we are conscious as it works.

It is our reluctance to allow for self guidance that keeps us from reaching into our wisdom.  Our belief that wisdom comes from outside hampers growth and peace.  Inside each of us is the wisdom needed to fulfill our day.  It takes a very small crack in our dogma, patterns, and definitions to allow for the wisdom to breach the dam.  Wisdom doesn’t disappear.  It doesn’t run dry.  It is infinite and always present.  We are ancient spiritual beings carrying deep within us the ability to reach out far into the stars and bring forth wisdom.  It isn’t held from us only to be shared in our elder years.  It is present every day.

Wisdom is blessed and enriched with age.  The years of experiencing the rhythm of life amplifies the wisdom.  In our elder years we have finally obtained ‘permission’ to release the dogma of society and allow our natural state expression.  For some this permission does not come until their call home.  When their death walk begins it leaves precious time for expression and engagement.

Study, learn, and open to the deepness within you to bring forth the wisdom you hold.  Use your wisdom to nourish and create the life you desire.  Allow for the ancient knowledge you carry to gift and fill the world.

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Why wait?

 W-2

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Visions

Oh we all have them.  We follow them till they dim.  We ignore them till they smack us.  We so want to live them.  They come in all sizes and colors.  Some of them hit the headlines while some just make someone incredibly happy.  I know I have lived many.  It is my understanding their importance is downplayed.  They feed and nurture.  What happens when they are ignored?

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At the mere age of 4 I had a vision of living in a small traveling vehicle visiting all the people I loved.  It was an odd vision since I could not reach the pedals and everyone I loved lived with me.  It was a vision that I clamored to accomplish.  Totally making no sense to my parents, they figured I had an active imagination coupled with a limited english vocabulary.  My mother was tasked with growing my verbal skills and I was given a new coloring book.  Not to be distracted I took my favorite doll and traveled the alleyways scaring my mother to death.  I eventually gave the vision up for another.

Soon I had a vision of becoming the flying nun, traveling the world, healing the sick, teaching and visiting all the people I loved.  My world had broaden to include several years of parochial school and a larger group of people I loved.  This vision moved forward towards accomplishment until one summer day.  My mother and I were inside the convent collecting books for the next fall term.  I happened to spy the living arrangements of the dear nuns.  Upon deeper reflection I gave the vision of the flying nun vocation to the discard pile.

As life would have it, I was faced with a new arena of experiences that required a new vision.  Having recently enrolled in public school the world according to my surroundings changed.  I was engulfed by strangers trying desperately to fit into already established groups.   My first true realization, what I had tried to curtail for others in elementary school the pain of being left out and misunderstood, was a common experience now.   I wasn’t a stranger to the feeling.  We have all had times when we felt left out.  The difference was how constant it became in the new school.   A vision began to grow for me.  I wanted to help others not feel left out and misunderstood.  I wanted everyone to have the same opportunities.  This time I could actually begin to live my vision.  I helped with the civil rights movement, women’s rights, and lowering the voting age.  I typed, handed out leaflets, demonstrated, and walked petitions through neighborhoods.   I was finally actively pursuing my vision.  I saw death, defeat, destruction and success.  I grew up and began to realize the true nature of my visions.  I became aware.  I also had to become real.

1795624_559499050823795_1078788267_nVisions are inspiration from our deepest soul space.  They are signposts upon our journey here.  They are not standard and one size fits all.  Visions incorporate all the wisdom we carry inside.

Having visions allow us to thrive in a world we think has gone mad.  Being a visionary doesn’t require amazing feats.  It only requires willingness to allow your true nature to speak.  A vision of world peace is available to all of us.  When we take the time to examine our visions, changing within us those things curtailing our limiting beliefs, they come alive and flourish.

My simple vision at the age of 4 of traveling and visiting those I love is happening right now.  I can now reach the pedals and my friends are across the globe.  My vision of the flying nun was adjusted.  I don’t wear a habit but I do help those who are ill and in need of company, traveling when necessary.   I continue to help to right injustices, protect our planet, and my favorite, support others in seeing and living their visions.

It took time for me to grow and crack open the world I had hidden deep within me.  I continue to crack and grow and thrive.  My visions develop and express themselves. I tweak them if needed but never change their original voice.  Most importantly I follow them with the same thrill of a 4 year-old.  I will go through the Black Hole one day even if only in my Book.

Happy Visioning!  Make them large and wonderful the world needs you!

V-2

 

 

 

 

Uka, Until, Undecided

Bounding amidst his nine siblings his gangly gate endeared me and I knew instantly he was mine.  He ran between my son and I begging for recognition.  As the others tumbled over each other continuing their play he ignored them instead he demanded our attention as he gamboled past.

I remember that day when I finally decided another dog just had to grace my life again.  There were actually two black mixed puppies that clambered towards us.  I could not see bringing them both but my heart could have been changed by one look in my son’s eyes.  He didn’t want to push it I guess because we only took home one.  My Uka a gordon setter, golden retriever mistake of natural love begot under the guise of the open gate.

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It didn’t take me long to find a name for this powerful puppy.  As a child I had an imaginary friend from my original planet who came to visit and help me when I was unable to understand the world around me.  Seeing the delight and understanding in his eyes I knew there was only one name for him, Uka, not Yukon!  Many a vet form had to be corrected.  I never gave up informing them of the correct spelling and pronunciation.

Within the first 4 months of his life his nickname of ‘devil dog’ appeared.  Reaching my waist, however did that happen, his penchant of constantly standing in front of you barking drove many a friend crazy.  He didn’t want out nor more food he wanted you to listen to him.  Yep, listen to him.  He would stand facing you and just look you dead straight in the eyes.  Eventually we created a language between each other.  I used some commands in public yet at home alone we seldom spoke unless I was irritated.  Mind you not irritated at him but at the day or myself.  His size seriously took me by surprise.  My son often told the story of the day we went to find our dog.  As we departed the car we were greeted by his father, a beautiful strong gordon setter that stood at my waist insisting on being petted and fussed over.  Apparently I remarked about his size and then promptly forgot my surprise upon meeting all 9 puppies.

Uka proved difficult to corral and totally a free spirit and my not being a strong alpha I had to go into training.  We lived for his first year on 40 wide open acres.  He loved chasing the deer and elk across the fields.  Bringing home his prized catches required boundaries.  Leave the lovely gifts on the porch, please.

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The  greatest joy he brought for me were all the nights we spent alone together.  Sipping a glass of something and he laying his head in my lap brought a deep connection to us.  So often I wasn’t sure if he loved me or my son and finally realized his heart filled upon seeing us both.  Uka would ride in the manual stick truck with my son patiently waiting for him to coordinate the shift/gas sequence.  One particular time as they drove off the property, Uka riding shotgun, and my son trying desperately to find the clutch rhythm, I burst out laughing as on the 3rd attempt Uka turned his head towards him and gave a huge sigh.  Chuckles still come each time I remember.

Until I was faced with the death of my son I had no idea how very important my Devil Dog would be to me.  Although Uka visibly missed my son, heading to the door each time the truck pulled in, he never left my side.  He accepted the change to city life from the open expanse of his earlier days.  He adjusted to his new sibling, Solas, a bounding ball of golden retriever fluff.  He never gave up his position of the protector of my heart.  Knowing exactly where my heart was each day he responded with is big brown eyes peering deeply into my soul reminding me he would always be here.  His head found my lap, his paws nudged me out of the tears, and his constant barking at nothing reminded me that life was asking me to join it.

Uka stayed a part of my life for 13 years.  He was old for a large dog with severe hip-dysplasia.  A disease now rampant in dogs that guarantees a painful deterioration of their hips.  He compensated for the disease by building up his shoulders.  When those began to break down unable to hold up his slipping hips I had to make a decision.  I was so undecided.   I knew that Uka was my last strong connection to my son.  I knew Uka had brought so much comfort to me.  I knew that by saying good-bye to him I was saying good-bye to my son.

Spending many a night alone with him we decided it was time for him to leave my side.  Solas was old enough to take his place.  It was also time to finally place a closure to this journey of our lives.  The decision was made for April 15.  The night before I couldn’t find him, fearing the worst, I calmly called him one more time.  Waiting in the dark for a black dog can lead to many a surprise.  Coming towards me, wagging his tail in triumph, he graced me with one more present.  He had finally caught a SQUIRREL!  Determined to bring it inside for safe keeping the argument ensued.  After all these years of good training my alpha role won out.  Placing the squirrel carefully in a towel Uka had decided was worthy of his prize, I walked into the garage placing it out of reach of intruders.

Uka has never left my side.  He was there when I had to say good-bye to Solas 3 years later.  He runs the hills I hike.  A tiny piece of his final prize is held in my medicine bag.

Once your heart has been deeply touched there is no turning back.  Whether it is a dog, cat, child, person allow your heart to be awakened.  Your open heart will draw more connections leading to a life fully lived.

U

Talent

“We are so sorry to inform you.  The talent you thought you had, well, it’s not going to get you where you want to go.”

How many times have we feared hearing that sentence or something similar?  Everyone has talents.  They may not be mainstream, billionaire-making but they always have an impact.   Talents are genuine expressions of us.  They carry gold within in them.  When expressed they are as impactful as a Golden Globe or other form of trophy.

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My mother couldn’t carry a tune.  Her pastries filled out home with delectable scents.  The love coming from the kitchen softened many a blow.  Having children of my own I realized how talented she was as I struggled to make her cream puffs and peanut brittle, finally giving up for my stand-by oatmeal cookies.  She dressed us in handmade sweaters as we grew.  When mohair was the rage she knitted a lined coat for herself and a mini dress for me.  The compliments and ‘where did you find that’ made me smile and proud to say ‘my mom made it’.  Americas Got Talent would have given her 4 X’s.  Her talents weren’t made for TV they were made for us.

There were many in my family with talents.  Brother’s on athletic scholarships, sister’s painting skills that brought extra money, and a father who could weave a story but none of them were rich by most standards.  With each of the talents they held their self-esteem grew and difficulties faced found solutions.

My early talent was seeing the wonder in each person and urging them to further development.  I was the cheerleader with a cohesive voice.  It wasn’t the “rah, rah, rah, sit down, stand up, fight, fight, fight’ cheer.  It was more the development cheer.  Helping each person to find a way our of their dilemma.  I would do this through storytelling and basic psychology.  It was natural for me.  It was just there every time I needed it.  My ability to garden and landscape each of my homes was a natural talent, dancing,  laughing, and creating large gatherings grew stronger as I grew.   I didn’t need to attend an awards ceremony.  I knew that my talents brought pleasure to myself and others.  Seeing their relief, smiles, and enjoyment were enough reward for me.  Sitting in my gardens basking in the scents and sounds brought me my Golden Globe.

I do have a confession to make.  I picked my words before I started as most of the challenge participants did.  I trusted there would be something to write about each.  Recently I joined a writing group and claimed that I was a writer, not just a storyteller but a writer.  I went through the ‘normal’ resistance and soon found myself penning a book.  Last night we were placed on the hot seat.  We were asked to read 400-700 word passage from our book.  I struggled with two different sections mightily.  I also could not find a natural stopping point of 700 words so I went with 921.  I wasn’t nervous preparing I thought.  Apparently I was very nervous as I nearly dropped my phone when my turn came.  I read my passage.  I stumbled over a few words… good indication to find replacements.. and then it ended.  There was dead silence.  No X’s.  Nothing.  I am not new to competition.  I am not new to performing or giving speeches in front of large crowds.  I am new to reading my art to others for feedback.  The nervousness, the personal critiquing, and the fear of “we are sorry but ….”  creeped up higher and higher.  It was so loud that I did not write the rest of the evening.  Every possible smallness piece came flying up into my face.  I could pace the room or I could use my talents and sort through all my emotions.  It wasn’t easy.  Again this morning I was still churning around in my head to quit writing.  It is not easy to set yourself up to exposure.  Resistance as I wrote recently is futile when you are being asked to change your patterns and beliefs.  I am a writer and I will meet resistance every step of the way.

It doesn’t matter  what talent is being challenged and asked to be embraced deeper.  The confusion and resistance come.  The end result is always better and leads to a deeper sense of self and accomplishment.  Accomplishment isn’t bright lights and awards.  Accomplishment is a composure of love that runs counter to your wordy head.  It is an acceptance of the multi-dimensional wealth deep within you.  It is the great seal of self approval that propels every one of us towards the ultimate trophies – self love and acceptance.  Those two trophies have the power to change the world.

So remember YOU’VE GOT TALENT!

T

Swing

To swing or not to swing should never be a difficult question!  Try to remember the first time your mother placed you on that yellow bucket swing and her push released you into the open blue sky!  Remember the first time you sat on your mothers lap with her arm around you as she pushed off into the open blue sky?  Push me, push me you would yell!  After a bit you grew brave and stood up pumping higher and higher.   What is it about swinging that thrills everyone?  Is it the motion and freedom?  The imagined worlds you can go to or the dare to see how high you can fly as the seat gives a jig on the backward rise, perhaps it is the ultimate dare to jump off the swing as it propels you forward?

As you grew older did you lose you desire to swing or did you sneak off to swing and ponder your developing philosophy?

I still love to swing.  Spying a playground with a set of swings I will stop and throw my cares to the wind.

But there is another kind of swing I love just as much.  It is swing dance.  Born of WWII parents we were encapsulated in their dance styles.  Taking turns with our dad we learned some basic steps dancing to Glenn Miller each Saturday night in the kitchen.  Those evenings led me to pursue a dance major followed by a lifetime of dancing.  I can tell you it is the motion, the music, the thrill of combining the two that brings me back every time.  I do believe my dad still dances and will be waiting to take me on a spin across the floor when we meet again!

Enjoy!!

Resistance

This word held a very specific meaning for me.

1re·sis·tance noun \ri-ˈzis-tən(t)s\ : refusal to accept something new or different

: effort made to stop or to fight against someone or something

: the ability to prevent something from having an effect

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Resistance came first into my life as an effort made to stop or fight against many things.  As a young school girl, I fought against the demands of the nuns to change myself into their perception of a good Catholic girl.  It was a constant for me to question the dogma. I also resisted their inference that there was only one way into heaven.  Upon transferring to public school, I resisted those who thought I wasn’t popular or pretty enough to join their group.  I helped others resist those who excluded them.  I also resisted abuse mentally and physically.  This meaning for resistance carried through civil rights, equal rights, and anti-war demonstrations.  It figured prominently through most of my life for others and myself.

When the Borg entered my space I immediately noticed myself react to their famous saying, “Resistance is Futile”.  My battle cry was resurrected!  They were wrong we would not be assimilated!  Dr. Who had been shown the effects of resistance and they would soon learn its effects.

Eventually I was introduced to the effects of resistance to accepting something new or different.  It was a strange encounter.  For the majority of my life I had been busy resisting oppression, abuse, and assimilation and now I had to re-exam my reaction to resistance.  My first encounter to writing was met with strong resistance.  Working through it allowed me to see how resistance figured very prominently in everyone’s life.  Resistance to love, intimacy, a new job, a deeper understanding of who we are, and changing our minds to allow for another point of view are all daily examples of resistance.

As I began to make a simple examination of this new aspect of resistance, I noticed that fear was a central figure.  Fear appeared as the motivator for resisting the acceptance of something new or different.  Once the fear was faced and found to be unnecessary resistance disappeared and acceptance ensured.  Facing the fear was the key.

Resistance to oppression brought fear but not as the motivator.  It seemed that integrity and compassion were the generators for the resistance and fear fed the ability to continue the resistance.  I am sure there are many more emotions that may be the leaders to the resistance depending on what was being fought or needed to be stopped.

It is a very thin line between the different aspects of resistance.  The line often gets blurred and confusion can set in.  Often times we think we are being oppressed when we are actually only being asked to open to a different point of view.  There are times when the change we are being asked to make is really oppression and should be fought.  It takes a sense of self and our soul, a backseat ego, and honesty to decipher the difference.

Courage to fight the oppressor comes when we know our truth, believe in ourselves, and hold a compassionate heart.  Courage to open to change requires the same.  Wisdom reveals the nuance.

R-2

Pause and Quench

Good morning – I missed posting my word for P due to pain in my back and my inability to sit for any length of time.  Today I decided to combine my two letters for my post ~ Pause and Quench.

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Seldom do we allow ourselves to really pause in our daily life.  It is as if our Type A ancestors genetic makeup has blossomed into a full fledge robotic life for us.  Driven by a need to stave off death and destruction our ancestors hitched a ride from their homeland to the new world.   A place where they thought they could find peace, happiness, and safety.  For the most part everyone found something.  There were thousands who were  forcibly taken from their homes and forced into a life they hadn’t chosen; a life of slavery.  Many found themselves in a life of failure and isolation and many did discover a new start yet not necessarily a 5 star life.  All of them created anew and birthed generations that still carry the desire for peace, happiness, and safety.

With all the knowledge that has been unearthed for us in the 21st century in America there is still a large resistance to pausing daily to quench ourselves.  Many of us have a daily religious practice that has been effective in showing a path to reflection and the abundance of peace, happiness, and safety by pausing to quench our souls.  There are still many who rush through their daily life on their way to attainment never pausing, never quenching their deeper essence.

How difficult is it to incorporate these two words, this habit into your life?  Is it really something that takes hours out of your routine? Is your desire to accumulate and complete your list of daily tasks so long, so intensive that a pause to hear the spring birds, smell the freshly mowed lawn, feel the rain, or listen to the snow fall completely impossible to allow?  Does the ability to curve your lips upwards create such pain within that you cannot smile as you pass each person you meet?

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Pausing and quenching yourself and others can become a trait of the Type A personality.  If it makes it easier for you to incorporate this action, to add it to your list, it has been proven to increase your ability to accomplish more tasks.  It has also been shown to intensify your sense of accomplishment of peace, happiness, and safety.

Starting today, pause just once and allow the beauty and uniqueness of today to quench your soul and add a little bit of fun into your pursuits.  And don’t just stop there.  Make P&Q a daily practice in your Type A life.   It just might alter your future generations and bring a big smile to your ancestors.

Pause and quench…. ahhhhhhhhh!

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