Category: Life Skills-Creativity-Art

My Broken Stick

Posted on by cmryan

Our deck has been in serious need of staining or painting for some time. Fortunately, my husband has decided to make this “his project” of the summer. He has spent several hours applying the first coat of stain, moving deck furniture, refilling buckets (I helped), and climbing ladders. It’s a lovely transition as the dark and weathered wood becomes clean and white. He’s making great progress on his own. However, I’m confident he’ll allow me to help soon.

Meanwhile, I spent a little time the other morning watering the trees and shrubs, the flowers and herb gardens. It provided me a ground-level perspective of the raised deck and the new paint project. While the water provided a drink for the plants, I sipped my morning coffee and surveyed the workmanship. I love house painting (mainly inside). Yet I’ve managed to stay out of his way and say very little about the process …until I saw the damage.

There on the ground, under the leg of a heavy extension ladder lying on its side, was one of my prized yard ornaments. A cherished walking stick was now broken in half. It had clearly been knocked from its revered position by something or someone. It now lay crushed in the dirt. My mood went from admiration to anger in a split second. No mention of this horrific act had been made in the past few days. But there was no doubt in my mind who was responsible. The painter man.

You see, this wasn’t just ANY walking stick. It had been found in the woods of Michigan by my elderly father. It came from a white birch_woodspaper birch tree, one of my top three favorite trees. The stick reminded me of the special times when dad would take a young me for walks, exploring the woods. The best feature was the twisted, curling shape at its center that made it so unique. That part was still intact. My dad had presented me with this odd stick on one of my visits to Michigan years ago. I packed it into my car and drove it back to Colorado. The walking stick became a yard ornament rather than for its intended use. I had moved it between new and old homes, protecting it, placing it in a significant position in the yard near the deck. It leaned patiently and gently against the post, waiting for someone to engage it in meaningful activity. And now it was broken.

I picked up the two disconnected pieces of useless walking support. I was in tears and somewhat surprised at my emotional reaction. But I could not keep quiet about the treatment being shown to my family treasures. I marched over to the basement window that shielded the painter man from my vengeance and called his name. He signaled that he was on a telephone call, so I stomped around in frantic circles in plain view until he got off the phone. I was so lost in my sorrow and anger that I didn’t notice him until he was standing on the half-finished deck, looking down, and asking me what was wrong.

I held up the two remnants of Nature’s exquisite art piece and yelled, “You broke my stick!”

The painter man was speechless. I could tell he was searching my facial expression to see if I was truly serious about this.

As soon as the words escaped my mouth, I recognized the absurdity of what I was doing. A smile also managed to escape with my tears. And in that moment I surrendered my anger, my ego, and my attachment to this piece of a dead tree branch from another state. It was just a stick! That’s all. Its only value came from my memories…its significance was based on emotions from within my mind…from a weak attachment to a distant place I rarely visited…and to a beautiful childhood experience of long ago.

I leaned the two halves gently onto another yard ornament (given to me by my son many years prior), telling the painter man the significance of that piece as well. He promised he would fix the stick right away. I assured him it wasn’t necessary.

The broken walking stick became more valuable to me in that discovery moment of its destruction than I had ever recognized or appreciated in its idle wholeness. Its bittersweet message – and all the other memories – can be cherished again and again, simply at the mention (or sight) of “my broken stick” now laid to rest and surrounded by flowers.

A Persistent Muse

Posted on by cmryan

The other day I woke up with such excitement about an idea, I couldn’t remember if I’d actually had any sleep the previous night. It was as if my creative subconscious had been busy putting together pieces of an idea that had been brewing in my brain for about five years…and now it was time to DO something about it!

I’m sure this brain activity was triggered by a frustrating accident of sorts a few days earlier. During the clean-up phase after a community event, the entry door became inaccessible. In itself, this was no big deal. However, in the event room behind the timer-locked door were the equipment pieces from the evening’s activities, burning candles (in a tray of sand), and my purse. Fortunately, I had my truck key in-hand. Also, I had heeded Spirit’s voice and left my cell phone in the truck earlier that evening. Yet, I was quite disturbed that I could not retrieve my purse, wallet, identification, etc.

After pacing for several moments, listening to the committee voices in my head, leaving messages for the building’s owner, and peeking through a small window to be sure the candles would pose no threat to the premises, I reluctantly left my possessions behind. I deduced that, since the timer-locked door could not be opened now, it certainly wouldn’t be opened during the night. Resolved that my purse would be safe, I committed myself to return at dawn when the door would once more unlock itself.

Enter the Purse Muse

It’s no surprise that my creative subconscious should be formulating a design for my perfect handbag. I’ve been searching for it in stores andhandbag-purse boutiques for years, reluctantly settling for an “almost” version time and again that I thought would satisfy my needs. Alas, none met the challenge. So, with the near-loss of an “almost” version fresh in my mind, the Purse Muse appeared to solve the challenge.

I awoke with a pattern and overall design clearly placed in my awakened consciousness. My first task was to visit a local drug store to see if there was a container that could provide the basic size and shape of the untested design. I found it! With my purchase in-hand, I quickly transferred my possessions from my “almost” purse to this new container as a trial-run to see if it would actually meet my needs. I’d been fooled before by the purse fairies. I was going to take it slow this time until there was no doubt about the validity of this inspiration.

It took only one day to prove I was being led toward a viable design. Could it be true? After all these years, was I finally nearing the end of my search for the perfect handbag? I could wait no longer.

The next morning I rummaged through my bin of fabric remnants, gathered up old purses meant for the donation bin, set up my sewing machine, and sketched out the rudimentary design for my ultimate carry-all. It’s a good thing I’ve been sewing and crafting for decades…and am fairly good at puzzles. Nevertheless, after five hours of obsessive, creative intensity (one hour for each year of searching?), I had fashioned and pieced together a handbag that is now my favorite fashion piece. It’s functional, practical, stylish and affordable…made just for me!

Already a granddaughter wants me to make one for her. My work-aholic nature wants to put the design into mass production. I’d just like to make another one (a fall/winter version) for myself.

Meanwhile, I feel such complete satisfaction to have followed the creative inspiration of the Purse Muse from the eye-opening idea to a final, artistic piece…and to have fulfilled a longing that only my skills and talents could do. I listened to the Voice of Creation and the final result was as crystal clear as the vision from whence it was born. And so it is always.

The Speed of Church

Posted on by cmryan

There are times when I get a little frustrated about how slowly tasks are being completed in both my personal and professional life, about a hot summer day dragging on and on, or anxiously waiting for a special event to arrive. I’ve had a love/hate relationship with Time since childhood. Fortunately, it’s become more peaceful as I’ve learned to manage my activities better, to pace myself through the days or years…and still I have more to learn.

When I was a kid my chore list seemed endless. To make things a bit more interesting, I would time myself to see how quickly I could get a particular task completed. As long as my efforts passed inspection the first time, I considered my work successful and my timing accurate. However, if I had to redo the task, the time was invalidated until the next attempt. For example, by the time I was 15 years old, I could clean a full bathroom, including tile walls, floors, fixtures, mirrors, counters and replace the towels, in less than 17 minutes AND pass mom’s inspection. The sooner I completed the chore list, the sooner I could move on to what I wanted to do.

I took this need for speed in my work to the corporate world. In particular, the area of marketing and sales support always seemed to have a critical time-based deadline to everything that needed to be done. I was a perfect fit and thrived in this environment for years. The skill to create documents and assorted materials within a short time limit still comes in handy on a weekly basis as a minister.

I’m grateful I have this ability to get things done so quickly and, in most cases, they still pass the critical eye of inspection without error. In the past 40 years I can recall only two times when I missed a specific deadline and faced the consequence of an unhappy boss or client. Funny how I remember those two disappointments and not the thousands of times I was successful.

Somewhere along the way I stopped using the stopwatch and started marking time by days, weeks, months and years. Things still get stopwatchaccomplished, projects are completed in a timely manner, and yet the urgency to get it all done today has slipped away. I’ve learned, through my years of working with a church behind the scenes and now as a church leader, that tasks do get done – some sooner than others. Yet, eventually, progressively, what is truly needed in the moment will be tended to and completed…  until the next revision demands more.

The overall idea is that this church or spiritual community will be here for the duration or life of its members. It’s not going anywhere as long as we are attentive to what’s important – each other.  So what’s the rush? It’s true that Sunday service comes around with amazing regularity, the bills and staff must be paid by a certain date, and materials need to be created for a planned workshop, meeting or event. Everything else will unfold in absolutely perfect timing… perfect unfoldment.

There’s a lot of Trust involved – in one’s self and those who share in the responsibilities. Trust that we’re all doing the best we can with what we have to work with. Trust that the most important tasks will be done first; the rest will be handled eventually. Trust that the “speed of church” efforts are different from the high-stress, demanding deadlines of my past, but still as effective. Trust that our organization is not suffering from lack of attention or love or care. Trust that balance and rest are as important as busyness and productivity. And Trust that we’re in the right place at the right time… right now… this moment… which is all the time we have anyway.

ADD & All Hosed Up

Posted on by cmryan

I’ve developed a habit of “home and garden time” where I spend a couple of hours each day outside or do home maintenance projects. It’s also a time where I get clarity for the day or on a particular topic. This morning as I was winding up several garden hoses and placing them on the new hooks I’d just installed, my mind found clarity about a disturbing topic that had been troubling me.

A few days ago I read that apparently America has lost its ability for long-term attention. Not only are its over-achiever citizens under the influence and pressure of the “crazy busy” syndrome, but that, as a result of being constantly connected to technology through apps, email and texting habits, America is considered the most “ADD” on the globe (“ADD” as in Attention Deficit Disorder). Initially I had strong objections to such blanket statements that generalize our entire country and population, including me. Then I looked at my own behavior to see why I was so irritated about the matter.

Frankly, I enjoy using technology to stay connected to the world. I carry my phone with me EVERYWHERE. I have two phone numbers and five email addresses that forward to my smartphone, as well as sending duplicate emails to my computer. I stay updated throughout the day. This system allows me to answer and/or delete emails regularly and not be overwhelmed when I sit down at my desk. If the subject line is uninteresting or if the sender is distributing political, promotional or spam-like messages, I can read a few characters, make a determination of its follow-up value to me, and click the DELETE key in less than three seconds. If the nuisance messages occur more than once or twice a week, I can UNSUBSCRIBE from all future communications. For those email subscriptions that continue to uplift and inform, I eagerly read them before deciding whether to SAVE TO FILE, FORWARD or DELETE.

The arrival of social media has presented a whole new challenge to time management and the feeling of overwhelm. I’m somewhat of a novice in this realm, so I’m sure there are short-cuts still to learn that would make sorting and reviewing postings more efficient. Meanwhile, I limit my viewing activity on these sites. Since I don’t listen to radio news or watch television very often, one online media community comes directly to my smartphone so I can at least know about major events in the world as they occur (as well as how my family and friends are faring for the day).  I’ve become quite accomplished at scanning the first few words of text to determine just how much more I want to know about someone’s situation, recipe, activity or inspirational message. Anything more than three or four lines warrants a return visit later in the day.

This “crazy busy” schedule and impatient nature certainly expresses as ADD behavior in me from time to time. But I don’t like labels. And not every area of my life includes technology.

AA026660In fact I’m the most serene in those areas that have no high-tech devices in them at all: gardening, hose-winding, meditating, painting, reading (a real book), crafting, etc. These simple activities encourage long-term attention without the short-term distractions of advancing technology. Such tasks, as simple as they might be, have immediate gratification benefits while also creating a solid foundation for something more. They “add” to the life I’m living now…the one I’m building for the future. For example, sorting, winding and hanging the garden hoses resulted in acknowledging how many I have…more than enough to spare and share. (Abundance comes in many forms.) I can ADD to the lives of others by giving them away and find more meaning (and space) in mine!

Through my intention to ADD and to serve, an enduring life unfolds in a very positive way. This new meaning…to ADD to life and have long-term meaning for what I do…is no longer objectionable to my consciousness. In fact I can say with confidence: “I have an ADD- approach to life!” Try this new definition and see if it works for you, too. It’ll only take a few seconds.

Quality of Life

Posted on by cmryan

One of the privileges I have as a teacher of Spiritual Principles is that I get to continue to learn them…over and over and over again. As my students are introduced to various spiritual texts, I get to review the pages and passages that opened my eyes and heart the first time I read the writings. I find peace in the highlighted phrases and joy in the scribbles in the margins…and I smile.

On most days those notations are enough to lift my spirit and remind me how lucky I am to have found such a foundation of faith and to practice it through my ministry. On other days I must delve further into the texts for the inspiration that will most certainly uplift my consciousness and release the mental burdens…the heavy weight of my unceasing plans and constant doing-ness…under which I place myself.

“You were not made for failure, no matter who you are, nor how much you know, nor what anyone has told you. God is your prosperity. God, the Most High, is your defense. God, the Absolute Good, is your friend.”                                 ~Emma Curtis Hopkins

It is important to remind myself of “first things first” when I start spinning from all the mental activity and ideas circulating in my head. What do I focus on? How much can I really do and do well? What is actually mine to do?  While my current life theme may be “simplicity,” it also must include the element of “balance” to address and achieve those tasks that are mine to complete on a daily or weekly basis…and into the distant future.

My intent is to create a quality of life that is improving and ever-expanding in all directions: spiritual/physical… work/play… home/community… relationships/solitude… activity/rest… learning/teaching… in an evenly-paced and sane approach of longevity and growth. Up until a few years ago, I would get so excited about the possibilities for expansion and the opportunities to learn or do, that I would work myself into an unsustainable frenzy of activity. It would be inevitable that a crash would occur …physically, mentally, emotionally…forcing me to rest, re-evaluate and recover from this self-inflicted abuse of over-doing.

My insatiable desire to learn all I can within this human lifetime, I’m sure, has something to do with my high level of activities, my growing collection of unread books, website searches on a myriad of topics, my eagerness to listen to the wisdom of others (conversations, classes, lectures, etc.), and my misguided enthusiasm to take on more than I can reasonably handle in a given day. Fortunately, I’ve become more aware of this destructive and innate pattern of behavior, and am now able to slow down the mental spinning to a more balanced and consistent forward movement. But more is needed.

clockThankfully, I’m willing to ASK for help, recommendations, suggestions or guidance when I feel lost. An idea, posed by a loving partner with whom I recently shared these darting thoughts, is being implemented, starting today:  Block out my schedule for various activities/tasks throughout the day/week and stick to it!

It sounds simple, right? Balanced? Logical? It’ll be interesting to see how my ego committee mind reacts to this “novel” idea. Yet, you and I both know this is not a new approach. I’ve brought it up before when I shared my work-aholic tendencies and the “power of an hour” concept of achieving things. However, I obviously need more than just an hour-by-hour plan. I’m adding a long-term view for a higher quality of life.

The wonderful part about this idea is that I have the freedom to create the schedule, starting today. The new blocks of time include spending more time with God than with projects, trading technology for daily periods of meditation, working only six days each week (for now), expanding my  exercise options, increasing creative art and gardening activities, and reading more books.  My aim is eventually to take off from work two full, consecutive days each week. Can you imagine that? I do. And so it is!

Back to Basics: Simplicity

Posted on by cmryan

Some months ago a friend told me how she picks one word on which to focus for the entire year. I liked the idea so much that I decided to do the same. The word I chose to begin this practice was “simplicity.” I’ll admit there are times when I forget about it. However, I’m quickly reminded of my intention whenever life starts spinning into chaos and confusion or I start experiencing feelings of overwhelm. It’s then I know to take a deep breath, stop whatever I’m doing, and evaluate what’s most important in that moment.

Sometimes, it can be as simple as getting a cup of tea…practicing songs on the piano…going outside to feel the sunshine…petting the dog. When I physically remove myself from the situation and the moment of confusion, it’s easier to gain new perspective. I’ve found it works with people, too. While it may not always be possible to remove myself from someone’s presence, I can stop talking or mentally planning my next sentence. I can listen. I can see them more clearly in that moment of heightened awareness. I can connect with them soul to soul where words are not necessary.

zen_gardenThe practice of simplicity brings added benefits I had not anticipated. I’m learning to have Zen-like focus in all of my tasks and activities. While I’ve been an accomplished multi-tasker, I’m more willing now to limit my attention to one task at a time until it’s completed. I actually get more done by having dedicated focus on one single project rather than trying to do several at once. The quality of my work has improved. The moments of chaos and confusion happen less often. I’m able to work for longer periods of time without feeling nearly so tired or stressed. One step in front of the other. Back to basics.

I’ve also begun applying the idea of “simplicity” to my life’s greater vision. Everywhere I focus I consider how I can do things with the least amount of commotion, effort, money, time or energy. Sometimes this means delegating a task or project to others…taking my time to arrive at a decision…or just not doing it…right now. When I get into that mindset that I have to “make things happen,” then I need to look at whether its creation is a matter of forcing something (ego) or a sense of lack in my life (not enoughness).  In either case, it’s necessary to go back to taking a breath, being grateful for “what is” and giving more thought to the validity of the desire.

As I’ve simplified my life, I’ve made numerous changes. I’ve gone back to basics with my diet and nutrition… planted a garden… make my own laundry soap… visit more with family and friends… changed careers… am more successful in financial matters… enjoy a variety of creative activities… and am constantly grateful for my life and everything in it! It’s simple, but not always easy. Yet, so worth the effort and diligence required to calm my busy mind. I live more from a sense of peace than I ever have!

Such commitment to a simpler way of living and being means that I get to experience daily the basic feelings of happiness and contentment…love, serenity, abundance, and connection… to life, people, my work, and God… one purpose, one action, one simple thought at a time.

The Ever-Present Voice

Posted on by cmryan

A wedding anniversary is a good way of measuring how much we’ve grown…as a couple or as individuals. One area we’ve been particularly focused on improving together is how we manage our finances and resolve our beliefs about money.

While I don’t think of myself as being ignorant about money, it seems to have taken me a long time to handle my financial affairs with the same concern and respect I’ve had when working for others, such as conserving an employer’s resources or maintaining records. I am ever so diligent in those matters. However, I’ve struggled to find a money system that works for me for more than a couple of pay periods. And now that I have, “that voice” is starting to whisper again. But let me back up a bit.

I recognize that my early money management training consisted of little more than properly filling out tax withholding forms when I started a new job, opening a checking account, or trying not to spend more than I made between paychecks. When I first started working (at 14), I may have been advised to “save something” along the way, but the message did not take hold for a few decades … and then some major life experience always seemed to wipe out everything I had accumulated to that point.

Without going into the boring details of life, it’s only been in the past couple of years that I’ve really gotten honest with myself about the way I deal with, handle or think about money and debts. The first real eye-opener came after reading “Secrets of the Millionaire Mind.” I had collected and read numerous books from other financial gurus, designed to change my perception and financial standing, but nothing was as impactful as the questions and exercises posed in that book. Together with my husband, we began to explore our deep-rooted beliefs about money.

I was forced to notice the negative patterns I was repeating and imitating, creating a cycle of financial failure over and over again, whether in relationship or all by myself. Going through the exercises and questions together, forced us to get honest with each other. There was no one to blame; we were responsible for our situation. I was tired of failing at this. I was done with the arguments about money every time the bills had to be paid. There had to be a better way – some way to be successful in how we managed our money. And there was!

Through forgiveness of self for past mistakes, a pledge of rigorous honesty about finances, and a willingness to face my fears while making a serious effort to turn things around, I started educating myself with renewed fervor. I reviewed books about different debt-reduction systems. I shared the information with my husband. We visited financial planners, CPAs and prosperity classes. I’ve been introduced to new mentors. I also created spreadsheets that were more realistic than any previous plans…until we found a formula that worked for where we are, but could evolve with us. We opened our hearts and minds – no more secret stashes or resentment spending. It was time to trust the numbers, each other, and God.

Our consciousness about money has matured – finally! We’re making better decisions about our long-term financial future. After just a few months, man_w_moneybagwe’re seeing significant progress. It feels like we’re getting ahead of the debt without feeling a constant struggle. We’re creatively reducing costs. The money arguments have ended; the fear is gone. I’ve been consistent with my record-keeping efforts, too. And then, today, that old voice came back.

As I was balancing checkbooks, paying bills, and distributing funds amongst accounts, that ever-present voice started whispering. It was bored with saving money…of paying extra funds toward mortgages or credit cards…of cooking meals at home when we could go out. Progress wasn’t happening fast enough, it said. This process was easy, but boring. It wanted the familiar chaos, complication, uncertainty and over-spending of the past.

Frankly, I had forgotten about this scared and doubting part of me. That voice had become so silent during recent success, that it startled me, at first. Once I recognized it as an old way of thinking that no longer worked in this new paradigm of conscious money management, I thanked it for being a clear reminder of how far I’d come in such a short time. I also know I have a long way to go.

I see the potential for significant advancement in my financial understanding and undertakings. It’s not too late to learn…and I know how to learn! The blended system we’re using is working wonderfully; it’s become a routine. There’s no reason to change it. I’m sure part of my past money-handling mistakes was because I didn’t stay with a system long enough to be successful. No more. As long as I can see increased savings and reduced debt on a monthly basis, I’ll continue on this path with great vigor and dedication. More than ever before, I respect and value the money we earn and where it goes.

Someday, I might be a voice of wisdom for my children and grandchildren. But first, I must earn the right to speak.

Discriminating Ideas

Posted on by cmryan

I recently saw a film about a well-known American baseball player in the 1940’s. It depicted the challenges of and racism toward a black athlete entering a strictly white sports team. Some parts of the movie were difficult to watch because the hatred was so clearly portrayed. It didn’t seem to matter to the team’s other players that this rookie was a phenomenal athlete or that the team’s improved standings as a result of his playing would benefit all of them. At least…not a first.

Eventually, much of the initial bigotry and prejudice amongst team members subsided, thanks to a forward-thinking team owner. The ideas associated with general racial discrimination became more specific over time. They became more discriminating about their discrimination. What an idea!

I find it interesting that two words, so similar in form, can be so different in meaning. Discrimination has synonyms like: bias, favoritism, prejudice, bigotry and intolerance. Discriminating, on the other hand, uses words like: sharp, astute, selected, perspective and discerning. Except for the positioning of the final two letters of each word, they’re identical. So where is all this going?

Any discrimination I have faced in life has not been racially based. Religious, yes. Gender, yes. Economic, yes. Nationality, yes. As a result, those experiences have made me more discriminating, whether I’m close to someone or not. For example, I’ve felt the pangs of religious discrimination from family members; it can come from anywhere. That experience had a significant influence on my efforts today to warmly welcome everyone who chooses to explore New Thought teachings and, in particular, our Spiritual community and church.

Much Good for my personal and Spiritual growth has resulted from those past hurts. I am…

  • more selective about what I share about myself or when I voice my opinion. I don’t need to comment on everything.
  • diligent in keeping an open or objective perspective about the world, to be more accepting of people as they are…neutral, non-judgmental. (It takes a little more effort and sharp focus when the people are closer to you in relationship. )
  • able to separate the person (that child of God) from their misbehavior, which has allowed me to practice forgiveness more readily.
  • an astute observer, noticing details about a person’s words, body movements, voice tone, or other communication methods.  As I really see people, I’m able to notice their vulnerability, their authentic Self, and offer compassion and kindness that connects us at a heart-level, a soul-level, where we recognize we are all part of that Divine Oneness.

These are discriminating ideas that I offer to you now as well. If we were to hone our discriminating skills, using the four bullet points above, we might never experience discrimination again. Think about it. Isn’t it about time?

 

Snowstorms, Over-Dressed & Nesting

Posted on by cmryan

Heavy_SnowToday’s spring snowstorm and my habitual nesting that accompanies it, reminded me of a snowstorm twenty-five years ago. It explains why each prediction of heavy snowfall sends me scurrying to the grocery store to “stock up” as well as to have food prepared and cooked in case the power goes out. While today I’m not so concerned about having a supply of candles, I do have an inventory of assorted batteries for numerous flashlights. My phone and laptops are also fully charged and at the ready. My 4-wheel drive vehicle is gassed up. And then I watch the snow with no concern whatever.

The spring snowstorm of years ago started shortly after I arrived at the office. Snow had been predicted, but I had way over-dressed that morning for the bus commute to work. I wore leggings under dress slacks, two pair of warm socks in my snow boots, a turtleneck shirt covered by a sweater covered by a Aussie-style, walkabout coat. I loved that coat. It was khaki green and long, a great windbreaker, durable and stylish to boot. I topped off this ensemble with my “outback” leather hat, a warm scarf around my neck, and thermal gloves on my hands. I was ready for the elements!

The company decided to close early that day to allow employees to get home before the roads became dangerous. I redressed into my gear, walked to the bus station, and awaited the arrival of my chariot for the 15-mile journey toward home. The highways were already a challenge for drivers, including the one at the front of our bus.

As we approached the exit ramp, the incline of the highway and the ice on the road made it impossible for the bus to go any farther. One of the passengers, a female flight attendant who must have been a cheerleader in a former life, rallied the passengers to gather near the back of the bus. The theory was that our combined weight, concentrated over the rear wheels, and then jumping up and down together to the commands of our cheerleader attendant, as the bus driver slowly engaged the gears and tires, would allow the bus to creep up the exit ramp. Thus, we could make our bus connections or get to our cars, and she could get to the airport to make her flight. It worked for a few hundred feet, but the highway’s incline won. The bus couldn’t make it up the hill or to the car park ahead. It was stuck on the highway.

For those individuals who needed to get up the exit ramp, unbury their car, and join the insane traffic jam that traversed both sides of the road over the highway and the bus below…it was time to leave behind the warm bus and the motivating echoes of the flight attendant. I cinched the belt around my coat, secured my backpack and hat, and stepped out onto the edge of the highway and into a biting wind filled with snow, ice and cold.

A few of us made our way up the exit ramp together, crossed the intersection to the parking lot, and then went our separate ways. I stood inside the three-sided bus shelter, wondering if the bus to take me on the final leg home would actually arrive. Could it even get through all that traffic, let alone manage the icy road conditions? Since these were the days before cell phones were common, I had no way to let my then-husband know where I was. I just prayed he and my daughter were safe at home, and that I would get there before too long. It was already dark and the temperature was dropping.

I waited for at least 30 minutes, glad I had over-dressed and wondering if I’d get home faster by walking those last two miles rather than just standing there in the blowing snow and icy wind. There was plenty of traffic, none of which seemed to be going anywhere. Finally, the bus for my route pulled into the parking lot, escorted by two police cars as a way for it to get through all the traffic. I don’t remember if anyone got off the bus, but I know I got on as quickly as I could. There was standing room only, but it was warm. The crowd was friendly, everyone supporting the driver’s efforts and each other. There was no end to the travel stories of the past few hours. This commute had already lasted more than two hours for me and I was definitely ready to see it end.

Our bus left the parking lot and pulled into the crawling traffic, trying to make its way across the overpass and the highway below. The first bus had left by this time. Cars and trucks and snowplows slowly crawled the four lanes below. My new driver suddenly announced that the road conditions were making it impossible to complete his route. He had been instructed to divert the bus to a Red Cross shelter at a local church just up ahead.

I knew where that church was located and it would take me close to, but in the opposite direction of, my home. I made my way to the front of the bus and begged him to please let me out when he reached the corner where he was going to turn the bus toward the church location. I told him it was very close to my home and I could walk from there, please. That was the truth; it was only about a quarter of a mile to walk. I could tell he was concerned for my safety, so I begged a little more. When the bus turned off the main road, he stopped, opened the door and I got out. So did a couple other people before the driver pulled back into traffic toward the church and emergency shelter.

The snow was already a good 18 inches deep with drifts up to my waist. I was grateful I didn’t have miles to walk. I was rather pleased with myself for being so over-dressed that morning. It was perfect for the current conditions. I felt strong. I was used to walking and thought this to be a good test of my strength and stamina. It was. I wrapped my long scarf across my mouth and around my neck, readjusted my backpack, and headed toward home.

After 30 minutes of trudging, slipping, falling and getting back up (my foot went down an open curb gutter buried beneath a deep drift; I thought I’d lost my leg), I finally made it into the townhouse complex. Another few minutes of dragging my body through waist-deep snow and I was standing in front of my gate and home.

I was greeted with hugs and many questions about my extremely long and cold journey home. My four-year-old daughter had been so concerned. After taking off my layers of wet clothing, all I wanted to do was to hug her and cry. I was so grateful to be inside. I chec

ked my leg for bruises, changed into some dry clothes, and, together, she and I started cooking.

We made several entrée dishes and baked other goodies in less than an hour…just before the electricity went out due to the heavy snow on the power lines. It came back on and off again throughout the night, but never long enough for us to get cold. We were going to be okay. We had food. There was plenty of snow for refrigeration, if we needed it. And I knew I could walk the distance to the convenience store if I really had to. I spent the evening reading bedtime stories by candlelight, cuddled in warm blankets and lots of love.

Snowstorms. Over-dressing. Nesting habits. They all go together for me. I want to add something else… Gratitude. That experience was the first time I remember truly listening to my intuition (to over-dress for the day and then to cook quickly when I got home). I’m thankful that I paid attention. I’ve never doubted the messages since. Today’s snow is a good reminder to keep listening.

Self-Reliance

Posted on by cmryan

[I wrote most of this in 2006 with a bit more added today…a reflection of Emerson’s essay of the same name. ]

When I’ve thought of self-reliance in the past, it’s always been in the form of survival, of doing what needed to be done and usually without anyone’s help. I learned to rely on certain skills to live my life and care for my children – skills such as: my ability to work and learn, intellect, communication, to “read” people, humor, to get back up no matter how much I was beaten down, to adapt, to change. These are the tools that kept me alive, fed my children, and allowed me to build a life. I’m proud of what I’ve accomplished and the challenges I’ve overcome. My abilities served me well.

mirror_imageHowever, there were times when I did not trust my own judgment. I occasionally lost touch with any sense of God-presence and many times turned to my human abilities or the words of others rather than rely on a Higher Power. I was self-reliant, but with a small “s.”

Emerson’s self-reliance offers a different perspective. He defines it as “a new respect for the divinity in man.” This interpretation has me thinking of it as Self-reliance (with a big “S”). I now view the term as, not what I can do to live, but what I can be to express who I am in this life.

I agree with Emerson on a number of points he made. I can believe in my own thought; I can trust myself. As a living expression of God, I must find courage to fully express my uniqueness, my talents and abilities, without hesitation. There is no reason to imitate someone else in order to find fulfillment in my life – “imitation is suicide” and it kills the core of who I am. If I believe that “infancy conforms to nobody,” then why would I choose conformity as an adult and allow society more control over my life? “My life is not an apology, but a life.” I must and DO live it to the fullest capacity I can muster. Emerson states: “Do your work, and you shall reinforce yourself.”

Well, I know how to work, and am finally doing the work I’ve been called to do. I’m also learning to be the person I always dreamed I was – a unique expression of Spirit. May my actions express the greatness I feel inside me, without apology. “I must be myself.”