Tag: self-discovery

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.

Making Contact

Posted on by cmryan

I’m thinking about getting a new phone. It’s been well over two years and I’m due for an upgrade. I’ve also convinced myself that it would be easier to see what I’m doing if the screen was bigger.  Really, I just want a newer phone. Before I head off to the cell phone store, however, I’ve given quite a bit of my attention, time and effort to going through the contacts list on my phone…and my computer…and my internet email account. I want to be sure my contacts are cleaned up, accurate … and then backup the contact list on my phone to another location that is off my phone.

I have a lot of contacts. Due to some magical mistake made during my previous phone upgrade, the technician (or me) managed to double my phone’s contact list. I ended up with over 948 records. I never counted them. I never bothered to clean up my phone’s contact list…until today.

So far I’ve been able to get the list down to 729 726 contacts on my phone. I have another 284 names in my internet account. Some are probably duplicates. Apparently, even with today’s technological advances, getting a phone’s contact list to sync to one or two other depository locations is not an easy proposition. It’s far easier on the spy TV shows than in real life. Even after a trip to the phone store with questions about my situation, the best they could do was reassure me that I wasn’t crazy about what I was trying to do. The only thing is, the process only works one way …not both.

Why all this trouble? Why is it so important?Old_dial_phone

First, I truly value the names that appear on all my various contact lists and I want them to be accurate. They wouldn’t be there unless there was a reason to include them. At one time or another, each name was added with the intent of staying in touch, reaching out, having a conversation. Sometimes it happened…other times, not so much. After years of no communication, I’ve simply forgotten who some of these people are. Quite honestly, if I haven’t contacted them by now (or they, me), it’s highly unlikely it’ll happen any time in the near future.

I didn’t mean to forget their names or the experiences we shared. The entries that were deleted weren’t all personal friends. The list is a combination of customers from a long-ago business, board members of a company where I used to work, recruiters for companies where I applied for jobs, people who visited our church, classmates from college, or someone I found interesting at a party and thought I would contact later. Some of these names have been on my list a really l–o–n–g time. I didn’t want to let them go. But holding on to forgotten memories was serving no one.

The only way we ever grow is to let go of what is holding us back. The best way to lift up our consciousness is to release the weight of what is keeping us down. Whenever we create a void in life, God/Spirit is more than happy to fill it – usually with something better than we had previously. Sometimes that means deleting names from an old phone list or cleaning the clutter from a life of overwhelm. Other times, it means forgiving ourselves (and others) for saying or doing things we may not even remember properly or fairly.

In all cases, it requires us to be in the present moment…to appreciate what we have here and now…to focus on the Good. As long as I stay in gratitude for the life that is mine, for the friends and family to whom I’m connected, for the gifts I’m given or work long and hard for …as long as I stay in gratitude, everything that’s important will be provided…and more!

I rest assured, knowing that my communication with God is a two-way and direct call, if I but listen to that still, small voice within…no phone required.

Dawn & Dusk: Danger & Delight

Posted on by cmryan

It’s not often I get out of bed before sunrise. However, today was one of those mornings. As I made my way to the grocery store to fetch a supply of coffee and juice, I was reminded of my drive home the previous evening, right around dusk. The reminder was about the two most “dangerous” times of day to drive, dawn and dusk, and I had managed to do both in less than 12 hours. The experience now had different meaning.

The lesson of danger had its roots in my early driving lessons with my dad. He would have me drive not far from where we lived…on the backcountry roads…two lanes of concrete weaving their way through the wooded areas like the many small streams that paralleled our course. Since my dad worked long days, we would either drive before he left for work or when he came home after the sun had nearly set. In either case, there was little danger of me running into another car. However, only a hint of the sky’s light was available for my “daytime” lessons.

The danger he warned me about came from the animals that lived in the woods and the potential of them crossing the road during their normal feeding times. Deer, raccoons, owls, foxes, snakes, rabbits or mice were likely to be moving about in the dim light. I was more than concerned about the damage such an encounter would do to my car. I learned to drive with extreme caution and developed an abnormally heightened awareness of my surroundings.

I still do visual scans of both sides of the road, searching for movement at the point where my headlights meet the dark shadows. I test my skill in owl_GrtHornedspotting camouflaged critters in the bushes or meadows, or look for the reflection of my headlight in an open eyelid, a shadow crouching in a ditch. Once in awhile a large bird, flying fast and low across the road in front of me in pursuit of fleeing prey, will actually cause me to flinch or duck in anticipation of a possible collision. (Yes, it makes me smile, too.) The knowledge gained from those early lessons and innumerable animal sightings since have only validated the importance of being especially attentive when driving at dawn or dusk.

As I now live in a somewhat urban setting, the sound of a haunting train whistle is more likely to be heard than an owl’s screech. Still, there are opportunities to travel backcountry roads and encounter wildlife. I drive more slowly than limits dictate. My attention is focused on an unexpected but welcome encounter with four-legged or winged creatures. I get lost in the moments of anticipation and time has no meaning. There is only an awareness of the interconnectedness of Life, of Nature, if one is willing to pay attention to it.

This awareness brought a new lesson to my mind during the recent dusk-lit drive. As the sun settled quickly behind the mountains in the west, the last sparks of light shot toward the darkening sky and clouds as if flares were set off to capture someone’s attention. I likened the shadowy road before me as Life, my current existence of expression and uncertainties in this world of form. The sun’s rising that morning symbolized my birth into this Life. The setting sun is the time of transition, when my soul will at last depart this world and move along to its next adventure. And what of those sparks of light? Those are the joy my soul will feel when it sees before it how much more Life there is yet to unfold and experience in the eternal Now.

Yes, I will keep my eyes on the road and surrounding landscape…to be aware of potential dangers, wonders, challenges and exhilaration on my journey. I am also blessed by and grateful for the light and darkness of each day…for all the shadows and creatures that cross my path or peek at me from the sidelines as I go by. Life is full and rich and filled with delightful, wonderful lessons. Thank you, God!

The ‘Hood

Posted on by cmryan

A morning routine I reinstated recently is to spend the first hour after waking in contemplation and meditation. I collect a thermos of coffee, a large floor pillow, my dog and spiritual booklets, and then take them with me to a second floor deck of our house. After reading the inspirational message for the day, I bask in the early morning sun to contemplate its meaning…to meditate.

morning_sunThis ritual is fast becoming my favorite time of day. In this seemingly intimate solitude, I am surrounded by a world bustling with activity and sound.

At any given moment can be heard the horn of a train in the distance…woodpeckers knocking on rooftops…the highway noise of morning commuters…skateboard wheels whizzing to school…a dog barking a few houses down the street…lawn mowers buzzing…or a car door closing before zooming off. There is little human conversation to be heard from my balcony perch, yet the neighborhood is definitely alive and busy. This is when the day comes to life. This is when I feel tremendous gratitude for living here, my neighborhood. Yet, I didn’t always feel this way.

There was a time when all I wanted to do was live somewhere else…move on. My life pattern had been to change residences every two to three years, sometimes more often than that. Life moved quickly and I sped along with it, sometimes unwillingly. Thus, as a result of such a transitory lifestyle, I never really took time to know the neighbors or appreciate my surroundings. Up until now.

As the sun lights my face and the birds introduce themselves in song, I acknowledge the growth of the trees, gardens and me. The roots are deep; the branches wide. Now I welcome the embrace of familiar surroundings enveloping me like a warm blanket. Now I feel peace and contentment. Now I’ve come to appreciate this community and its people.

Most of my neighbors have lived here for more than 15 years! We’ve gone from sending children to school together and to welcoming grandchildren into our backyards to play. We’re getting older, but no one’s in a hurry to move away. We’re not close friends; we are neighbors. We help each other shovel snow, call out a “hello” at the mailbox, yell across the fence to quiet a barking dog, look out for strangers, and wave or smile in passing cars.

It has taken years for me to appreciate how blessed I am to live here. And this feeling of connectedness, of being part of a community, extends beyond the end of the street. I carry the ‘hood with me when I drive across town, visit friends out-of-state, or travel to another country. I look for the threads that weave us together into one beautiful tapestry of humanity, brotherhood or sisterhood…the true ‘hood.

And while I like the variety of colors and patterns of a colorful life, thinking about how it would be to live somewhere else, to experience the excitement offered in a strange place, traveling to different lands, enjoying extraordinary scenery and cultural diversity, there’s nothing quite like returning to familiar and serene surroundings. There’s nothing like a sun-kissed morning on my balcony in quiet meditation. There’s nothing like coming home.

 

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.

Universal Principles in Action!

Posted on by cmryan

Recently I was in a dilemma about a prosperity workshop I wanted to attend. The guest facilitator was someone I’d heard about years before and whom I admired from a distance. I’d never met her in person but, after hearing her story of success and reading her book of how she has used – and continues to use – Spiritual principles to create a prosperous life, I was inspired to take the next step and attend her workshop. And I needed to quell any lingering doubt and skepticism about what she was teaching. I believed the only way I could learn the truth of her claims was to meet her in person. Little did I know her lesson would come from an entirely different source.

The first challenge I encountered was that her workshop was scheduled on a date for which I already had major commitments at the exact same time. The afternoon was fully booked. I was required to attend another function, and there was no way to see her that day. I searched her website to discover she would be in another town the following evening, delivering the same presentation…a town that was 360 miles away!

After a little more research, I knew I’d rather drive than fly. I could leave the morning of the workshop, drive about six or seven hours, attend the two-hour workshop, stay the night at a hotel, and drive back early the next day so I could teach my own class the following evening. Piece of cake! Then I went online to register for the workshop. After entering my name and contact details, I hit the “submit” button and got an instant response: EVENT SOLD OUT. Argh!

Now, when I had finished reading her book the midnight before, Spirit had given me a nudge. You know, that small voice with the big message? It had told me to contact her directly about how much I wanted to meet and talk with her…how inspired I was by her book. So when I received the “SOLD OUT” message about the workshop, I began writing an email to her – to propose another idea. At the same time, I sent an email to the distant workshop organizer, asking to be placed on a reserve, backup or waiting list, in case someone canceled at the last minute and I could still get in. Simultaneously, I had a quick but stern talk with the Divine.

I said, “Listen up, God. You’re the one that put this idea into my head. I’ve done everything I know to do to see her. If you really want me to go, then you better figure it out and DO something about this! I’m ready to go. I’ve done all I can. And if this creative intention stuff really works, then show me some results now!” I’d worked myself up into quite a praying frenzy. So I took a deep breath and went back to writing my email to the author/teacher.

I explained about not being able to see her at the first workshop due to conflicting events…how I was willing to drive the distance to see her in another town…only to find out there were no tickets available, but that I was on a waiting list and hopeful. I offered to drive her from Point A to Point B (and back again) just for the privilege of hearing her experiences and basking in her years of wisdom. I assured her I was not a stalker, just a very enthusiastic minister with a desire for clarity about a big project of my own. I offered to pay for the travel and meals, and deliver her safely to wherever she needed to go, even if I could not get into any of the workshops where she would be speaking. I’d patiently wait at my hotel until the next day and bring her back to wherever she needed to be. I was willing to serve and happy to accept any time and conversation she was able to offer.

I was just about done composing and editing her email, when another one came back from the distant workshop organizers. They explained that they had put me on the reserve list a few minutes ago, as I had requested. I had been second on that list. However, they just received a cancellation from a couple who couldn’t use their two tickets, so enclosed in the email was a link to my FREE ticket and directions to the workshop location. They also offered to find me a place to stay with one of their group’s members. They looked forward to meeting me soon.

As I read the email twice and then again, I started crying. I also quickly printed the ticket to be sure it was real. Then I sent a REPLY, thanking God…and them…for the opportunity to attend. Hotel reservations were secured immediately. After wiping the tears from my joyful face, taking a few deep breaths, and gathering my itinerary papers together, I went back to make changes to my email to the author/teacher.

The email now expressed a tone of heartfelt service rather than pleading. I told her I had been able to secure a ticket at the new location. I resisted offering all the details of this miraculous victory. My offer to drive was still an option I hoped she would consider. I pressed SEND…and smiled my way through a prayer of gratitude for this valuable lesson.

When we are clear about our intention, our desire, to experience something Good in our lives…and state it or write it plainly…and throw in some passion toward its creation…and do our part but also leave some room for God to work in mysterious and wondrous ways…I have NO doubt that demonstrations such as this will occur all the time. We need to be open to seeing the miracles, the God-stuff, being created all around us…in God-time, not ours.

This was the fastest gift I’d ever received from the Divine (that I can remember). It wasn’t my first and it won’t be the last. But this experience was a clear reminder of the clarity, the passion, and the trust I need to have when creating something I desire. It wasn’t going to come from the author/teacher. It came from the Divine Power within me…the same Power that’s within each of us. What an incredible lesson! And there’s more…

Since that day my “big project” has gotten even more clarity. With the help of a spiritual life coach, I saw not only some much needed adjustments to the vision I’d been creating for myself, but also what had kept me from going forward with my plans. It was the wrong dream! My new direction has filled me with energy, enthusiasm, and simplicity of vision…it’s do-able and exciting! I wake up eager each morning to take the next steps into my future…and reluctantly retire to bed late at night. I love this life!

One last note…in case you still don’t think God has a “hand” in our affairs. After all that activity to secure a ticket, get a hotel room, rearrange my work schedule, etc., a week before the workshop date the author/teacher fell and broke her arm, which will include additional surgery. She had to cancel BOTH workshops and has no other events scheduled in this area for the rest of this year. However, there is a FREE three-day Ministers’ workshop next year at her retreat center…and I REALLY want to see what that looks like.   🙂   Listen up, God!

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.