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?
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
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?
Sunday, March 29, 2009
JOY IN THE MORNING
Morning sun rolled out its golden tongue tasting the azalea bush bobbing with last season's mocha flower heads, licking a corner on the shepherd's hook bird feeding station. The gathering birds didn't yawn, resist the wake up call or even look sleepy-eyed. The simply accepted the feast refreshed before them the night before.
Two white mesh thistle seed holders swung gently like mantles on a camping lantern; moving to the music of the wind. Black-capped Chickadees, Goldfinch without the gold, Sparrows -- or maybe Wrens, I must learn to tell the difference -- held their pecking order with crescent clenched toes. Those attempting to break line were pecked to the end and spent their wait picking up the fallen seed on the carpet below. As they moved in circles the ground seemed to act as a trampoline pushing their ballet toe steps up again for a landing a few inches away again and again. Sky approaches allowed several to grasp the sock upside down to pick their treasures off the top of the fill line. Their split tails flicking a victory sign before swooping away on a wavy return flight to the waiting Birch.
After every few samplings each took refuge in the red branched bushes beneath my watching window. There, beaks were wiped clean on branches of choice until the way was clear to return for the next course.
Oh, joy in the morning. This is the news I want to wake up to, dance to, fill my heart with. I like that I am so easily pleased.
What brings you joy in the morning?
Two white mesh thistle seed holders swung gently like mantles on a camping lantern; moving to the music of the wind. Black-capped Chickadees, Goldfinch without the gold, Sparrows -- or maybe Wrens, I must learn to tell the difference -- held their pecking order with crescent clenched toes. Those attempting to break line were pecked to the end and spent their wait picking up the fallen seed on the carpet below. As they moved in circles the ground seemed to act as a trampoline pushing their ballet toe steps up again for a landing a few inches away again and again. Sky approaches allowed several to grasp the sock upside down to pick their treasures off the top of the fill line. Their split tails flicking a victory sign before swooping away on a wavy return flight to the waiting Birch.
After every few samplings each took refuge in the red branched bushes beneath my watching window. There, beaks were wiped clean on branches of choice until the way was clear to return for the next course.
Oh, joy in the morning. This is the news I want to wake up to, dance to, fill my heart with. I like that I am so easily pleased.
What brings you joy in the morning?
Thursday, March 26, 2009
All My Life's a Circle
I stepped into a circle of lonely last week. Recognizable by the suction pulling me downward with the same power of my red childhood boots being sucked into spring mud. The more I longed to move on the deeper I was drawn into helplessness. I wanted to lay down, pull my purple comforter over my head and disappear. "If you stepped in, you've got to be able to step out," came Wisdom's voice. "If loneliness is a circle of dark energy, there are other bright energy circles available. Like the Twister game, it may be awkward, but you can get there from here."
After a trip to the greenhouse to smell the flowers, a chapter read in a book that transported me to another time and place and a food treat to soothe my body, I had moved on. The dark circle barely a shadow of memory.
Another circle presented itself this week with my step into Facebook. Not only did I not realize how vast and fast was this web of connection, I also did not realize it held a place for me. Former school friends, both high school and college, colleagues from several work incarnations, students from past classes, and those I've met briefly and deeply at the same time were just waiting to be invited to re-meet me. ( I know it's not a word, but I'm a writer, I'm allowed to make them up.)
Full circle? More like a constant coil or open ended Slinky, moving out, crossing over, coming back at a different level of engagement each time. It makes sense. The earth we inhabit is a circle. The Spirit that births and rebirths us crosses like a figure 8 renewing all at its center. Our hearts pump blood in a 'circle'. Our breathing comes in, changes us and moves out.
I have a special affinity for Harry Chapin's lyrics from All My Life's a Circle that adds passion to this concept.
"All my life's a circle
Sunrise and sundown.
Moon rolls through the nighttime
'Til the daybreak comes around.
Seems like I've been here before
Can't remember when;
But I have this funny feeling
That we'll all be together again.
No straight lines make up my life
And all my roads have bends.
There's no clear cut beginnings
And so far no dead ends."
Roll on sweet circle of Life, roll on. And thanks to all who have gone the distance with me.
After a trip to the greenhouse to smell the flowers, a chapter read in a book that transported me to another time and place and a food treat to soothe my body, I had moved on. The dark circle barely a shadow of memory.
Another circle presented itself this week with my step into Facebook. Not only did I not realize how vast and fast was this web of connection, I also did not realize it held a place for me. Former school friends, both high school and college, colleagues from several work incarnations, students from past classes, and those I've met briefly and deeply at the same time were just waiting to be invited to re-meet me. ( I know it's not a word, but I'm a writer, I'm allowed to make them up.)
Full circle? More like a constant coil or open ended Slinky, moving out, crossing over, coming back at a different level of engagement each time. It makes sense. The earth we inhabit is a circle. The Spirit that births and rebirths us crosses like a figure 8 renewing all at its center. Our hearts pump blood in a 'circle'. Our breathing comes in, changes us and moves out.
I have a special affinity for Harry Chapin's lyrics from All My Life's a Circle that adds passion to this concept.
"All my life's a circle
Sunrise and sundown.
Moon rolls through the nighttime
'Til the daybreak comes around.
Seems like I've been here before
Can't remember when;
But I have this funny feeling
That we'll all be together again.
No straight lines make up my life
And all my roads have bends.
There's no clear cut beginnings
And so far no dead ends."
Roll on sweet circle of Life, roll on. And thanks to all who have gone the distance with me.
Friday, January 23, 2009
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'?
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'?
Monday, November 24, 2008
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?
****************
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
****************
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
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
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.
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.
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