Look the Other Way

When I become entrenched in my ways and as a result become 'stuck' emotionally and spiritually, a trusted voice whispers, "look the other way." This is not the call to ignore what's going on and to escape engagement with reality. Rather it is the invitation to change perspective and expand my small thinking.

At my workplace I often end my lock-up shift by moving 20 feet away, then turning and giving one last look before going home. I am intentionally checking my mental list to affirm I have turned off all sewing machines, flipped out display case lights, completed end of day financial readouts, locked what should be locked and set all things right for whichever co-worker opens the next morning. But in that 20 foot viewing space I also raise my awareness to what customers see as they approach that space. Looking IN instead of OUT becomes a wake up call of sorts. A nudge to change the place that frames my daily activities, to freshen the picture.

President Barack Obama's inauguration provided a powerful recent reminder to 'look the other way.' Cameras pulled back to the Washington Monument, pulled slow motion focus over the multitudes present to participate in history, and slowly came to rest on the singular podium standing like a toothpick in a snowstorm. I attempted to project myself standing at that podium looking out at those million plus attendant faces while imagining the many millions more viewing through TV screens. All those expectant, demanding, judging faces. I know what it feels like to be among the many looking at the one. But what must it be like being the ONE looking out at the MANY? Humbling? Powerful?

As a teen I once asked an influential pastor in my church camp "is it your power that makes you humble, or your humility that makes you powerful?" He was as stunned by the question that came THROUGH me, not from me, as I was by the words that left my mouth. ("Where did THAT come from", I thought.) We both stood in silence, the unanswered question reverberating somewhere inside each of us. I ask that same question about Albert Schweitzer, Maya Angelou, Abraham Lincoln and other influences in my life. At what point does humility transcend into power or power into humility? Those who integrate them equally are world changing, life enhancing, positive influences for me.

With the Golden Globes and Oscars season approaching, I find a multitude of occasions to 'look the other way.' What is it like to be the actor projecting into the character, projecting into the story, projecting into the audience of expectant, demanding, judging faces. I have a small sense of that everyday, as I play my roles of mother, grandmother, sister, niece, neighbor, co-worker, senior citizen, wisdom seeker, spiritual searcher sometimes simultaneously.

When a woman came into my workplace recently with a full grown, trimmed black moustache,I was at first stopped cold by the initial shock of something so out of the ordinary. As she spoke in her fully female voice and reflected a kind, thoughtful demeanor, I found myself not looking 'at' her but turning and looking 'with' her at the purchase she came to make. 'Looking the other way', together, took away the feeling of separation of how we were different. Looking in the same direction bonded our two beings into a gentle and productive result. I thank the whisper that guided that moment.

"If you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always gotten." I don't know the origin of the quote but it serves as a guiding light for me when I get bogged down in the same old, same old. 'Looking the other way' is my activation mantra to discovering new paths that serve my journey toward wholeness.

Where are you called to 'look the other way'?

Everyday Gratitude

Gratitude is the weft that holds the weave of everyday life in place for me. Each Thanksgiving I pause to show myself just what fibers brought me to this moment in time. What weft and weave colored your life this year?

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THANK YOU pencils chimney smoke ice scrapers cinnamon rolls baked apples baby toes WITH GRATITUDE email state quarters memories chocolate caramels books hope president obama GRACIAS cell phones calculators MANY THANKS laughter surprises gifts snowflakes candles paychecks words twilight movie sweeny todd THANKFULNESS wicked elphaba smiles MAHALO cranberries lemons family FOR THIS I’M THANKFUL friends full gas tanks cocoa butter lotion starlight fresh flowers chocolate cake FULL OF THANKS pecan pie fabrics sewing machine I’M GRATEFUL buttons grandchildren sunsets adventure THANK GOD fresh laundry haircuts doctors contact lenses massages holidays rituals music silence WITH FULL THANKS poetry purple MERCI graceful aging longtime friends new friends smiles tears love composting wisdom CONTINUED THANKS cattle dog gentle cat MY THANKS paper fleece bed baking bread slippers sisters aunts children nieces nephews uncles baptisms I GIVE THANKS goodbyes hellos APPRECIATION applause compliments education FOREVER GRATEFUL dictionaries dreams goals geo-caching roofers house-siders survival compassion kin empathy DANKA charity imagination sleep creativity my heart sings with the blessings that rain in my life this Thanksgiving Day 2008 A.D. questions light thunder rain breezes artists teaching peppermint WITH THANKFULNESS skiing snowboarding UNENDING THANKS health teeth trust faith spirit energy colored cotton bolles winks secret smiles jokes mysteries gardens the well oaks maples THANKFUL HEART palms breath touch WITH A FULL HEART beaches fair trade coffee bagels violins pianos tennis shoes printer catnip newspapers justice toes ears garlic onions spontaneity

Unclaimed Tears

Who do these tears belong to? The ones that are filling the center of my chest with a feeling of emptiness and strangulation. I've searched my head for reasons but find none to justify the intensity of the dark stone that has anchored itself there.

I first recognized it during a sunny day. "Where did YOU come from?", I asked as I drove the familiar freeways home from work. My mind backstitched the day lifting up images of people or situations that may explain this presence. There were plenty of possibilities but none accounted for the circumference of dispair in the center of my chest.

True, I had recently breathed in various forms of hostility; person to person, religion to religion, culture to culture, candidate to candidate, manager to employee, customer to employee, family member to family member, all of which combined could create a spiritual tsunami. Could I be carrying a little bit of ALL of them? Had I allowed multiple energies from numerous sources to settle in me?

It has happened in me before. When Princess Diana died, I felt for weeks as if the tears of the world resided in me. A depth of emotion traveled through me as if I were a conduit for the global grieving souls who mourned her loss. I could not explain it nor let it go. I reached out for healing to move me through it. Throughout my personal herstory as the media pictures and stories of God's innocents lying bloodied, mutilated, lost and hopeless their eyes questioning the 'why' of their situation, (whether that occured as a natural disaster or human induced), I felt the stone of sadness then too.

But I know that looking for the WHY is so often an ugly and endless journey. Finding the answer to WHY too often ends in blame and finger pointing and conclusions of "if only". As in, "if only SOMEone or SOMEthing had been different, this tragedy would not have occured. Life is what it is. I find no satisfaction going down the road of who's responsible for this heaviness of heart. I'd rather
determine what to do to alleviate it.

For my own health, mental, physical and spiritual, I intend to cry. To let go of the tears of whoever is using me as a conduit to find an out to their sadness. Perhaps it will then provide release to whatever souls have reached across time and space to for someone to feel their pain, embrace their struggle and allow new light to shine in their hearts. Perhaps as they travel the highways of their lives they will feel that release and ask, "Now where did that come from?", and be content to embrace it with a smile.

And when my heart is lifted without mental reason, I will thank whomever is doing the same for me.

A Stitch and Time

Sewing, I've discovered, is not only a favorite pastime but my metaphor for living. I begin with a full length of fabric, cut out multiple pieces, then sew them together to match the picture on the pattern cover. Easy? Nope. The fabric has right sides and wrong sides. The pattern's arrows and dots need to be matched up accurately. I achieve the best product results when I use the correct thread; cotton or polyester for strength and hold; rayon topstitching for beauty and stitch intensity; silk for fine weave fabrics. And I need the appropriate needle. Rounded point, stretch needle, sharp, topstitch, embroidery, leather, denim, twin or wing.

My life follows those principles. I begin with all possibilities spread before me, choose the ones I want to fit together, and then imagine what picture will result. Easy? Nope. The possibilities have positive results or negative results. My timing doesn’t always match up or I miss the arrows leading to match points. Now for holding the possibilities together. Is it my intention to plan for long-term durability? Do I select based on image or public approval or self satisfaction? As I move forward with my plan I need to wisely decide when to use gentleness and when to be direct but possibly unpopular. It’s important to consider whether I’m dealing with folks who are tough as leather, woven tight as denim or perhaps fragile as tulle or voile. What kind of tracks do I intend to leave for the future? Do I require the backup of a solid twin plan or the distinctly fragile but beautiful proven affect of the heirloom wing needle design?

And then there’s backstitching. In order for my plans not to unravel I back up once in awhile tracing my steps to be sure I’m still on my chosen path. Is it possible for my journey to move forward by sheer determination? Or will I require some underlying support (in sewing--the bobbin and stabilizer) from my interior strengths and/or external advisors on the journey?

In any given circumstance, should I choose the path of clear contrast--black and white rigid rules for instance, or a blend of multicolor threads/diversified sources? And when my process comes to completion, will it still resemble the images I began with or will it have morphed into whatever influences time stitched into its journey?

Multiple outcomes present themselves in the questions. A stitch and time reveals the end product.

Reversed Lighthouse Effect

I like lighthouses. They spread their wide beams full circle on a darkened body of water. When I am in the periphery I can reassess my location and choose my path to safety. The light has no ego, it is not drawing attention to itself, it just serves to light the darkness and leaves the destination up to me.

Now make the leap with me here. . .I've been finding many talk shows really boring. Finally I recognized why. The hosts and guests alike seem to search for a light beam that shines on THEM and supposes the rest of us will follow the light to satisfy their ego need for recognition. To bring glorifcation and applause for what they have done to get themselves noticed. They work to HOLD the beam of light, not to let it expand their view of what or who is out there in the undiscovered world. This is when I find my energy draining. No one is funny enough to hold my attention for a full hour when the light keeps returning to the person in the 'chair'. So Jay Leno, David Letterman, Conan O'Brien, you fulfill my image of Reversed Lighthouse Effect.

The talk show I enjoy the most, the one that both enlightens and entertains me by shining the light on science, politics, environmental concerns, personal talent, health, nutrition, everyday heroism, concern for all creatures great and small, literature, gender issues, money management and more, is ELLEN. For me she provides a Holistic view of life as seen from the Lighthouse. It inspires me to find my own way out of the darkness through information. The true Lighthouse Effect.

Maybe when your name is defining all you believe in and stand for in such a public way, it creates a humility to be fully genuine whenever the light crosses your place in the great body of humanity? No, in the case of ELLEN I think she comes TO the light already humble and genuine. So she doesn't need to have the light affirm her. Therefore she allows the light to keep moving on to other subjects and objects of concern and interest.

Just the way I see it today. What thoughts does this spark for you?

Tiffany Glass Garden

Tiffany glass in the garden. A single raspberry held up to the sun brings this image. Every plump bump that forms a hollow ball of exquisite taste is a summer pleasure annually. The aroma of cooked jam lingers in my kitchen now, as I write. Eight stained glass jars pop, pop, pop with the seal of assurance that they will protect my treasure until just the right opening presents itself.

One of my tasks in childhood was to get up early (I still don't do that well), go out to our garden before the sun jumpstarted the day, lift the cheesecloth protection, fight the mosquito's lingering in the cool branches, search around the prickly branches to pluck each berry and fill up my bowl before the birds came for their breakfast. Breakfast those days was always special. During a Brownie Scout campout, we had just settled on to our army cots under the big canvas tent and turned lights out when we heard the tires on the gravel approach the leaders tent. 'Bunny', one of our counselors lived on a farm. Her parents were bringing us the biggest silver kettle of the freshest just picked raspberries I'd ever seen. Ten eager girls scampered to the kitchen pulling out every thing resembling a bowl, counted out spoons, and watched expectantly as fresh, rich cream lifted each jewel to the top of our bowl in greeting. Nothing tasted as good as that surprise, afterhours treat.

Given a choice of DQ toppings, Raspberry is the only consideration. Even better than chocolate, carmel or cashews. Filling in a sweet roll, coffee cake, torte, two layer cake? Need you ask? And Raspberry vodka? Unbeatable. Raspberry sauce on baked chicken? Try it you'll like it! Raspberries added to fresh garden salad with pecans; bring it on.

Food of the gods is how I often describe it. I picture royalty in ancient Greece or Rome popping beaded treasures into their mouths while lounging and enjoying music and dance of a social event.

Is there a taste that triggers mouth watering memories for you?

Let's get together and feast.

Out of the Many ONE

A small group of people are passionately expressing their opinions about the topic under discussion. My dream camera focuses on each face in turn. Suddenly I am the one speaking. Quietly but firmly I say, "the truth is that the more each one of us becomes our true self, the more all of us become ONE. Becoming our true self connects us all at the core of the ONE who created us, and there we are all the same." And then I woke up.

"What was that?" I wondered upon waking. The words burned in my reflective mirror throughout the day. I looked at each person I encountered from a new perspective. "How could I ever be ONE with them?" my thoughts challenged me. I was flooded with duality thinking, those human separations of me from you, right from wrong, always from never.

E Pluribus Unum; Out of the Many, One. It's been right there on our currency and coin for hundreds of years. I knew it, understood it, embraced it and repeated it. After my dream, the onion of understanding peeled away another layer and I was seeing with new eyes. In the 70's the word Namaste was used frequently among spiritual study groups. Translated for newcomers to the word as, "the divine in me sees the divine in you." I went to the grocery store one day determined to try this out. Entering the store I focused silent energy on a man resting on his cart, with his back to me. I directed all my love and energy toward him with the thought, "the divine in me sees the divine in you." repeating it several times in my head.

After just a few seconds he turned completely around and locked eyes with me. I nodded kindly and just kept pushing my cart into the produce aisle. Just a quirk I told myself. So I tried it again and again as I filled my cart from my grocery list. Only once was I unable to connect. I felt a kind of thick wall of energy blocking one woman from acknowledging the directive of my thoughts. The experience changed ME. I became more aware than ever that on a deep level all our roots tangle and touch in the ONEness of our creation. We do not move forward by pulling away from our centering place.

During every volatile political season, duality terms are shouted from every microphone, podium, headline and newscast. While many candidates say UNITY is what they're seeking, duality is the vehicle that drives the journey.

This reflection is not intended to be a political forum. But my mirror caught the reality reflection of my outer world while my dream spoke the truth of my inner world. Which to complicate things further, is ALL ONE WORLD. Out of the many, ONE. Becoming our true selves connects us as ONE at the core. I believe that. I'm trying to BE-LIVE that as well.

Your thoughts?