Edwin Markham, now deceased poet from Oregon City, Oregon, wrote 4 lines that lassoed my attention over 40 years ago. And the truth of his words rings in my ears often. I admire his simplicity of wisdom in poetic form; like Burma Shave signs along my journey. Here are a few of his signs:
**********************************************
"He drew a circle that shut me out-
Heretic , rebel, a thing to flout.
But love and I had the wit to win:
We drew a circle and took him In!"
**********************************************
"There is a destiny which makes us (brothers);
none goes his way alone.
All that we send into the lives of others
comes back into our own.
**********************************************
"For all your years prepare,
And meet them ever alike;
When you are the anvil, bear--
When you are the hammer, strike
**********************************************
Thursday, August 20, 2009
Starting From Scratch
A story I heard years ago told of a man studying to be a priest. One of the students'challenges was to speak extemporaneously on a topic written on a piece of paper under their dinner plate. This young man's paper was blank! Nothing on either side. He hesitated to collect his thoughts and then said, "On this piece of paper there is nothing," (pause for colleague laughter) "And it was from just this kind of nothing that God created everything." He then launched into an inspirational message on creation.
August is my piece of nothing. Since early childhood this is the month I wanted to wish away. My beloved trees are beginning their transition to winter rest. Garden harvests are dying on the vine. Grass becomes amber instead of emerald. And something in the air just pats down my energy like a salve I can't breathe through. August is my transition month and I'd like to eliminate it. This time period zaps my energy rather than sparking it. I feel the call to sleep in every cell of my being; to rest up for the real love of my life, -- adventureous learning! In my youth going to school to unlock more secrets than I knew existed and savoring each (except math maybe) was like an unending buffet.
I'm in a different school now. The longing to learn still pulls at me during this languishing month each year. Yet I don't have the control of a calendar starting date. Aging forces me to set goals in new ways; on my own and with little help from guidance counselors. What will I make of my nothing? A long list of things I always thought would interest me? One specific focus that will consume all my energy and focus my three months heading into Christmas? Or perhaps no list at all; just tear that paper nothing into a ship or star and let my imagination lead me to all things exciting and nourishing.
From nothing God created all things. Perhaps I could create just one?
August is my piece of nothing. Since early childhood this is the month I wanted to wish away. My beloved trees are beginning their transition to winter rest. Garden harvests are dying on the vine. Grass becomes amber instead of emerald. And something in the air just pats down my energy like a salve I can't breathe through. August is my transition month and I'd like to eliminate it. This time period zaps my energy rather than sparking it. I feel the call to sleep in every cell of my being; to rest up for the real love of my life, -- adventureous learning! In my youth going to school to unlock more secrets than I knew existed and savoring each (except math maybe) was like an unending buffet.
I'm in a different school now. The longing to learn still pulls at me during this languishing month each year. Yet I don't have the control of a calendar starting date. Aging forces me to set goals in new ways; on my own and with little help from guidance counselors. What will I make of my nothing? A long list of things I always thought would interest me? One specific focus that will consume all my energy and focus my three months heading into Christmas? Or perhaps no list at all; just tear that paper nothing into a ship or star and let my imagination lead me to all things exciting and nourishing.
From nothing God created all things. Perhaps I could create just one?
Sunday, August 9, 2009
Spice It Up
One mallard duck is swimming on the tiny pond just about 50 feet from my viewing point. Wide spread pine limbs are raining down yellow needles in clumps of two. One duo lands like a finger pointing to a passage in my open book where on page 52 it clearly marks the words, "Ask the universe to make clear where you should put your energies next." WHOA. That is the quickest answer to my thought question that I've ever gotten. Just seconds before I wondered silently what I should explore next on life's journey.
The outdoor weather worn deck of our local library is providing me with the view, the peace, the air and the privacy to wonder 'where to next with my life?' As the surprise awakens me the next image I 'see' is me lining up pieces on a gameboard deciding what to move where. I blink and a second image shows me choosing spices to shake on that same gameboard laying receptively before me.
I understand the imagery. I am being presented with options to spice up my life. The choice is clearly mine, yet I still do that childlike thing of waiting for the universe to throw down the clearly written choice I SHOULD make.
The outdoor weather worn deck of our local library is providing me with the view, the peace, the air and the privacy to wonder 'where to next with my life?' As the surprise awakens me the next image I 'see' is me lining up pieces on a gameboard deciding what to move where. I blink and a second image shows me choosing spices to shake on that same gameboard laying receptively before me.
I understand the imagery. I am being presented with options to spice up my life. The choice is clearly mine, yet I still do that childlike thing of waiting for the universe to throw down the clearly written choice I SHOULD make.
Monday, July 27, 2009
What Happens On a Journey
I KNOW I'm on a journey when I see with new eyes, taste with new pleasure and use all my senses in heightened awareness. I image myself as a spider at the center of my web catching all the things the wind blows my way. Some I sample immediately, some I wrap up to savor later and some fall from my web because there are too many to hold all at once.
I KNOW I'm on a journey when information swells my head to the bursting point. Often I write it down with pen on paper so I don't drop crumbs that fall between the cracks. I KNOW I'm on a journey when my feet connect to the path others have built, walked on, driven on or played on, and I can feel their historic presence. When trees whisper their stories and flowers tell me their secrets as I greet them and thank them for being in my world of discovery, I KNOW I'm on a journey.
When I move from here to there on a journey I feel like someone else. Sometimes I sense another part of me walking parallel not only to collect the overflow of experiences but to whisper tidbits of wisdom or information to help me see more clearly. When I sleep contentedly because I am full of rich gatherings; when I dance through waking times trying to taste the air of newness, I am on a journey.
I welcome the dance, the air, the paths, the tastes the smells and sights that write a book in my heart for me to read over and over as I punctuate it with sighs of remembrance.
I KNOW I'm on a journey when information swells my head to the bursting point. Often I write it down with pen on paper so I don't drop crumbs that fall between the cracks. I KNOW I'm on a journey when my feet connect to the path others have built, walked on, driven on or played on, and I can feel their historic presence. When trees whisper their stories and flowers tell me their secrets as I greet them and thank them for being in my world of discovery, I KNOW I'm on a journey.
When I move from here to there on a journey I feel like someone else. Sometimes I sense another part of me walking parallel not only to collect the overflow of experiences but to whisper tidbits of wisdom or information to help me see more clearly. When I sleep contentedly because I am full of rich gatherings; when I dance through waking times trying to taste the air of newness, I am on a journey.
I welcome the dance, the air, the paths, the tastes the smells and sights that write a book in my heart for me to read over and over as I punctuate it with sighs of remembrance.
Friday, July 24, 2009
Where does a journey begin
The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.~~ Lao Tzu ~~
What IS the first step of a journey? Getting on the path, bike, airplane, train or in the car? When buying the tickets that will get you to your destination? Perhaps before that, looking at a map to determine where you want to travel? Or even before that with the thought that you would like to go somewhere, do something you've read about, heard about, seen in media coverage? Perhaps as a child while reading a poem, listening to a conversation, observing someone who came from somewhere beyond your immediate awareness?
Grandma Mary used to tell things to her gathered daughters in the presence of her grandchildren. Speaking English until the punchline, where she deftly switched to German to protect little ears. Little did she realize that we could get the import of her words from the story itself or her emphasis in relating the punchline. Grandma Lucy took me with her to her German speaking Lutheran church several times during my childhood. While I couldn't understand the words, it sounded like an exotic song to me from the first bell ringing to the last.
Kindergarten was the longed for first year of formal school. We never knew that it was a word brought with our ancesters describing a place where children (Kinder) grew in learning (garten).
Saturday mornings in mother's kitchen were punctuated with German words describing the aromatic and delicious tasting cakes she lovingly called kuchens. The bread (Brot) she baked for the week already cooling on wire racks, woke me on Saturday morning with a jump out of bed not a reluctant rolling to the edge and slowly placing my feet on the floor. One of her special self treats was cooked Kaese (cheese), which she licked slowly off a spoon. (we children held our noses as soon as the cover was removed.)
Living well off your garden, working hard from sunrise to sunset, putting church at the center of your life, keeping family ties strong, these were all woven into the fabric of my being with indelible love.
Learning to sing Stille Nacht, Heilege Nacht to the music of the well known Silent Night Christmas hymn, was like honey on my tongue. Those words belonged there, flowing like a smooth, cool river. And I wanted to speak more of them, to unlock their mystery and make them daily music to my ears.
I looked at book and magazine pictures of little German girls my age with white-blond hair (often in braids), blue eyes and freckles and contrasted them to my olive skin, curly black hair and brown eyes. I wanted to know that girl, I wanted to play at her side, share her toys, eat lunch at her table, be a part of her family. Just to experience her experience.
Something in me was reaching out or maybe back into history even then. Was this the first step in my recent satisfying journey to Germany? Did I come to my desire so naturally and innocently that I didn't recognize it as a lifelong desire to hug the ancestry gifted to me through genes and socialization? Were these my first steps that began the journey from which I've 'almost' completely returned?
It may be idle reflection to some WHEN the first step takes place. But to me it enriches every thought, dream, wondering that approaches my daily consciousness. I may already be making first steps into another journey. And now I'm wise enough to welcome them all and tuck them into an open suitcase ready for travel.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
The Journey
After several days of intense preparation I locked the house, got into my car and began my journey 'home' to Wisconsin to visit loved ones. A quick stop at the gas station was first on my agenda. Coming out of the station I realized my keys were in the locked car with the motor running. Oy Vay! Calmly reaching for the spare set in my purse, I took myself by the shoulders and thought loudly, "Not a good start, Bonney! You better clear your thoughts and focus from here on!" Feeling justly scolded, I was again on my way.
Semi-truck traffic was thicker than bees on a hive. Lots of buzzing, very little movement and way too much crossing over one another to get past a slow mover. As hills began undulating in all shades of green I became mesmerized with the beauty I so often overlook living a suburban existence. Spring born calves, sheep and horses moved sprightly amidst their older relatives. Farm signs tugged at me with their invitation to purchase fresh asparagus or rhubarb. The enticement slid my mind into memories of childhood kitchens and the domestic joys of gardens and cooking for my own family. I visualized the fruit cellar when I was eight, shelves stacked four high reflecting every color of mom's canned fruit and vegetables ready for winter consumption. The second visual is of my full-sized freezer while raising my own family holding the treasures of my hands.
After a few miles of mind travel I paused to ask myself WHERE are you? It's amazing (and frightening) to realize you can travel parallel existences in your mind and your body simultaneously. "Road sign, road sign, try to find a road sign that tells me where I am, what I've passed and what lies ahead! Ahh, something familiar, I'm on track again." But then I realize I've chosen to take a different connecting highway than in the past and I hadn't checked a map before traveling to see WHERE it connected. Oh, well, I was feeling confidant (smug) that I could trust my inner voice to show me the way. But when I began sensing I was in a flowing river of cars without my wheels touching the road, my uncertainty leaped to the top of the anxiety scale.
Taking the next exit I pulled into a gas station for directions, being careful to notlock my keys in the car again. The clerk said I was five miles past my exit but by following the local shortcut, could get back without losing any time. Whew! Strike three??
When beauty turned to tedium and every town looked like the last one, I was ready to ARRIVE and not be traveling anymore. After 5 1/2 hours of driving I accepted my own conclusion. Phoning the host awaiting my arrival I explained I just couldn't push any harder and needed to stop. I was clearly going to be later than anticipated.
Ordering a ham slice and mashed potato dinner at the restaurant my in-laws used to frequent every Friday night, I finally brought body, mind and spirit together.
In most of my life's experience, it's the getting there that's been difficult. Once I arrive I'm fully present and fully engaged. I don't know why I think I can journey without a map. And yet, not having a precise path, direction, timeline to guide me is what has added so much spontaneity and joy to my days. Traveling alone is a condition to which I've become accustomed. While it's often lonely, it's also what allows me freedom of movement and freedom from expectation and judgment. This travel back 'home' is what helps me arrive at my REAL home. That comfortable place within that lets me know that I am the author of my destiny and the CEO of my own life.
What is your journey teaching you?
Semi-truck traffic was thicker than bees on a hive. Lots of buzzing, very little movement and way too much crossing over one another to get past a slow mover. As hills began undulating in all shades of green I became mesmerized with the beauty I so often overlook living a suburban existence. Spring born calves, sheep and horses moved sprightly amidst their older relatives. Farm signs tugged at me with their invitation to purchase fresh asparagus or rhubarb. The enticement slid my mind into memories of childhood kitchens and the domestic joys of gardens and cooking for my own family. I visualized the fruit cellar when I was eight, shelves stacked four high reflecting every color of mom's canned fruit and vegetables ready for winter consumption. The second visual is of my full-sized freezer while raising my own family holding the treasures of my hands.
After a few miles of mind travel I paused to ask myself WHERE are you? It's amazing (and frightening) to realize you can travel parallel existences in your mind and your body simultaneously. "Road sign, road sign, try to find a road sign that tells me where I am, what I've passed and what lies ahead! Ahh, something familiar, I'm on track again." But then I realize I've chosen to take a different connecting highway than in the past and I hadn't checked a map before traveling to see WHERE it connected. Oh, well, I was feeling confidant (smug) that I could trust my inner voice to show me the way. But when I began sensing I was in a flowing river of cars without my wheels touching the road, my uncertainty leaped to the top of the anxiety scale.
Taking the next exit I pulled into a gas station for directions, being careful to notlock my keys in the car again. The clerk said I was five miles past my exit but by following the local shortcut, could get back without losing any time. Whew! Strike three??
When beauty turned to tedium and every town looked like the last one, I was ready to ARRIVE and not be traveling anymore. After 5 1/2 hours of driving I accepted my own conclusion. Phoning the host awaiting my arrival I explained I just couldn't push any harder and needed to stop. I was clearly going to be later than anticipated.
Ordering a ham slice and mashed potato dinner at the restaurant my in-laws used to frequent every Friday night, I finally brought body, mind and spirit together.
In most of my life's experience, it's the getting there that's been difficult. Once I arrive I'm fully present and fully engaged. I don't know why I think I can journey without a map. And yet, not having a precise path, direction, timeline to guide me is what has added so much spontaneity and joy to my days. Traveling alone is a condition to which I've become accustomed. While it's often lonely, it's also what allows me freedom of movement and freedom from expectation and judgment. This travel back 'home' is what helps me arrive at my REAL home. That comfortable place within that lets me know that I am the author of my destiny and the CEO of my own life.
What is your journey teaching you?
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
Soul Song
Music tugs my ear and my attention follows. "Sh-Boom, Sh-boom" yanks my smile into my young life of the 50's. There I am in bobby socks and saddle shoes, smelling warm asphalt at the sock hop at the roped off street dance. There I am doing the hip swaying, finger snapping rhythm of the music of my past.
New music, and my heart swirls like slowly rising steam into the starry night of romance hoped for; nay expected. "I have often walked down this street before," pulls my eyes closed to watch movie memories on my eyelid screen. "Teen Angel" never fails to put my feet near the railroad track where High School friends attempted to beat a train, and the train won.
"I fall down, but I get up again", brings the memory of a grandchild singing with passion the song of courage during rough times. "One elephant went out to play out on a spiders web one day", now sung my the third of my grandchildren, still finds me remembering the Girl Scout troop in which I first learned the motions.
"America the Beautiful" fills my eyes with tears, my chest with pride for the nation in which I've been blessed to be born. "This is my Country" does the same.
Music is my lifelong companion. Lifting me up, bringing solace, inviting my compassion, bringing pride.
While researching before teaching my "Befriending Your Dreams" courses, I found an important notation. In ancient times American Indians taught their children that each soul had a personal song. That when the dreamer's body slept, the soul could safely wander until awakening came. Then the dreamer would lie quietly humming the song to let the soul know it was time to return to the body. What a spectacular way to awaken; with a gentle musical connection.
This particular blog began when I overheard the process of selecting music to enter into cell phones that alert the receiver to which caller was trying to reach them. Each caller with their own unique alert that they were trying to communicate. A wake-up call of sorts. A stretch of the soul music concept; yet ironically similar. Both are a call to awareness that some part of the spiritual universe that has been wandering, is ready to come 'home'.
What music has called you home recently?
New music, and my heart swirls like slowly rising steam into the starry night of romance hoped for; nay expected. "I have often walked down this street before," pulls my eyes closed to watch movie memories on my eyelid screen. "Teen Angel" never fails to put my feet near the railroad track where High School friends attempted to beat a train, and the train won.
"I fall down, but I get up again", brings the memory of a grandchild singing with passion the song of courage during rough times. "One elephant went out to play out on a spiders web one day", now sung my the third of my grandchildren, still finds me remembering the Girl Scout troop in which I first learned the motions.
"America the Beautiful" fills my eyes with tears, my chest with pride for the nation in which I've been blessed to be born. "This is my Country" does the same.
Music is my lifelong companion. Lifting me up, bringing solace, inviting my compassion, bringing pride.
While researching before teaching my "Befriending Your Dreams" courses, I found an important notation. In ancient times American Indians taught their children that each soul had a personal song. That when the dreamer's body slept, the soul could safely wander until awakening came. Then the dreamer would lie quietly humming the song to let the soul know it was time to return to the body. What a spectacular way to awaken; with a gentle musical connection.
This particular blog began when I overheard the process of selecting music to enter into cell phones that alert the receiver to which caller was trying to reach them. Each caller with their own unique alert that they were trying to communicate. A wake-up call of sorts. A stretch of the soul music concept; yet ironically similar. Both are a call to awareness that some part of the spiritual universe that has been wandering, is ready to come 'home'.
What music has called you home recently?
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