Slow Down, Look Around, and Hear the Birds Sing

I have been and with grace will always be, inspired and guided by God. Sometimes it is a little more clear than others, but yesterday it was how my day shaped up as opposed to any thing I heard. Life has a loud voice and if we are paying attention, even its whisper can be a gale forced wind that can either set our sails full and take us in the right direction or tip our boats. Either way, a voice can be a pantomime, a play, a picture...so many things. Today the "voice" was a play that asked me to SLOW DOWN.

No matter how I hurried, I simply did not feel I could catch up with myself. I felt I was running to hit every red light. I got behind every slow car. My computer would not load information quickly enough. I waited on returned phone calls and people who were late. At some point, though, I got the message. It was so blatantly in front of me and I do not remember exactly what it was that caught my attention or changed my perspective...but I stopped. And I heard the message. And I slowed down, and breathed, and gave grace to the birds singing their song and to the clouds that showed off their art work. My heart slowed down, I was able to accomplish what I intended to accomplish, I felt gratitude. A whole rush of good things began to flow into my day.

A dear friend wrote to me the other day and said, "Why is life so rushed when all we do is hurry to get to the end?" I think of all the special moments I have missed hurrying to get to the end. I gathered a lot of good things in my basket along the way, but I would love to have some of those more precious memories...or to have taken time to make the memories precious...if I had just slowed down. Perhaps it is wisdom, gathered in my basket and mixed in with all the good things and the not so good things that will allow the rest of my life to be a little slower. Not in accomplishments but rather in the kind of riches of life that are eternal. That person who said, "Stop, slow down, and smell the flowers" was very likely the most aware woman on the planet!!

I See You

I tried to avoid the hype and enthusiasm for Avatar...but my husband and I finally gave in to the critics voice and decided to go and see it for ourselves. I can only say that I wish I had gone sooner. I noted something very curious about me regarding my personal resistance to this movie. I had felt the same way about Star Wars in the 70's and it had a deeply profound effect on me. Avatar had a similar effect. It seems, to my amazement, that I unconsciously avoid things that will be good for me. THAT is a whole other subject for another time!

In Star Wars, the phrase, "The force is with you." left an impression on me that has lasted for nigh on 30 plus years. In Avatar, the phrase, "I see you" will be carried with me for at least that long, I hope to my life's end. If you have followed my entries, you know that I have an affliction of peeling layers away until I can find something personally profound to me. The phrase, "I see you" spurred within me that profoundly deep reaction. I suddenly GOT how I see the world and how I want the world to see me. "I see you" as it was used in the movie says "I see you, whole and complete in who you are, with your flaws, your intentions, your commitments, your heart, your soul." I think of all the times I have looked past someone, seeing only my own prejudice, my own issues of unforgiven issues that come from misunderstandings, my own fears that keep me from my good.

I have been wondering, since the movie, how my world would change if I could "see you." How would that change my voice and how would I respond to another? If I could see you, and see that you are as afraid as I am afraid, that you have hopes as I have hopes, that you have needs and dreams as I have those things, what would I say to you? When someone agrees with me, I don't even "see them" ... I only see what agrees with me. And when I am in conflict, I am blind and too often only see my need or my prejudice. "I see you" honors others and gives us the power of voice. "I see you" includes seeing myself honestly and loving all the ugly parts along with the good ones. "I see you" gives us all permission and dignity to travel together on this planet we call earth, in a peacefully respectful way. We all need to be placed in "ICU" ... the intensive care unit of  "I see you." In this, there is hope for a beautiful now, a beautiful tomorrow.

The Voice of Opinion v The Voice of Wisdom

Opinion is a funny thing. It changes. I think of all the opinions I have held over the years and I cannot really think of one that has not been changed at some point. I have had opinions about many, many things in my life. It was developed at a young age because I grew up with very, very, very strong women who were not always wise but certainly always opinionated. Couple that with  my father, who by nature held on to his opinion like a drowning man to the side of a boat, I was doomed from the start. The only really good thing that opinion gave me over my youthful exploration was courage.

Then, at some point, my opinion sounded something like "I would NEVER do that..." or "I would NEVER act like that..." or even better, "Why would ANYONE be, think, act, like that..." In the great wisdom of God, I was always led into their shoes (or something like there shoes) so I could understand and see the opposing side of my own "I am sure I am right" opinion. So, for the sake of brevity, let me just say, opinion is personal, always subjective, and while sometimes right, it can also be horribly mistaken.

But wisdom is different. Wisdom comes from a place of experience and insight. It is something, unfortunately, that floats up AFTER you need it, not before. To me, it is the sweet smell of "the fragrance left by the violet when stepped upon." Wisdom ALWAYS, at least for me, carries with it a peacefulness that passes understanding, even in the face of someone else not understanding what you have to say. (I would say every parent on the planet has experienced the Voice of Wisdom being lost on their child.) But wisdom, it is the gold we receive for aging. If we are lucky, we have a vault full of it. If we have bypassed the wisdom, and missed our payday, we can always go back and collect through reflection. I wish that your vault always be full!

Weary, weary, weary, weary

Most of us, when we are doggedly tired, go to bed. At least in my advancing yet youthful years, I do go to bed when I am tired. This subject came to mind because tonight I AM tired. I spent all day preparing for our accountant's visit tomorrow. Numbers are like a lullaby to me, they put me to sleep!! But then I thought about being tired and how it interferes with our psyche so decided to throw this comment out there!

I have discovered that my brain simply does not work when it is tired. I discovered this was true playing the game "Word Mole" on my phone when sleep deprivation had crept in. I could not even remember how to spell simple words, let alone try to gather the scattered alphabet into a logical word the game would accept. (If you have not played it, please try sometime, it is fun!) Anyway, what I discovered was that the level of emotional frustration rose to the degree of my tiredness. I know there is an old adage that a couple should never go to sleep mad; but I don't know how you can resolve anything if you are doggedly tired. I say, agree to be in a disagreement, kiss, and then take care of it in the morning.

Tired equals emotional frustration. Instead of a creative solution, a tired voice dives deep within the murky waters of the past and digs up some emotion (could be a supercharged emotion) and fuels the conversation with it. Then all a person has at their disposal is defensive positions. I say, if you are tired, take advice from someone who has taken those dives, and just put it to bed until the sun comes up. Things truly do look better in the light of day!!

To Speak or Not to Speak

What do you do when faced with the decision to speak up or not to speak up? Sometimes that is an easy answer...to be silent can say more than any words you use. I remember when my mother used to use that "look" ... it was something that I was able to replicate with my children. They always knew when they had pushed me over the top because there were no words, there was only "THE LOOK!!" If you are a mom, then you understand. I don't know where it comes from because I cannot duplicate it on command. It simply boils up from the bowels of my DNA and whap...it appears!!

Then there are the times when my mouth beats my head to the punch and spills (or spews) out my first thought or my first reaction.The realization of my faux paux is often slow but there is a distinct flavor that floats and infiltrates my taste buds. I am sure that you know the flavor to which I refer. It is leather. Sometimes, the taste is more like a clean shoe...too big for my mouth but not horrible and disgusting. Other times, the shoe has been drug through mud and other questionable things found on the ground. Really and truly disgusting!!

Then there is the time when I have the common sense to wait, to weigh, to respect the feelings of others, to moderate my own opinion and peacefully reflect on my heart and listen to my intuition and inner guidance. Then, when I am invited, I respond. That is when I find my most powerful voice. By the time I go through this process, I find that not just words but wisdom woven within and throughout, give meaning to what I have to say. I wish I could tell you I do this more often than not. This is a talent I am developing. In the meantime, pass me a little ketchup for my shoes!

The Voice of Love

I grew up in a time of dramatic transition when the voice of love was changing. There was such a dramatic transition between the naivete of the 50's and early 60's and the free love that came flowing in from the flower children of the 60's and 70's. Whether admittedly, or subconsciously, I think that both men and women have been floating in this murky void ever since, trying to navigate without so much as a star pattern from the heavens to guide us.

After all my years, I have found that the voice of love is the most effective voice of all. It sounds like kindness in the face of someone being unkind; it sounds like compassion when someone is being unreasonable; it sounds like support when someone is disappointed. Love is a language that offers your acknowledgment of the humanness of your fellow traveler. I don't know of another language that opens up people's trust, that lets you into their lives, more than the language of love.

It is not always easy to offer to someone who is being difficult. Nor is it easy to offer the language of love to someone who repeatedly steps on your enthusiasm or dreams. We are told that love is everything. In offering it, we do not condone another for an abuse of a relationship. Nor do we offer pity. We simply offer them our voice of love, our appreciation for being fellow travelers on this bumpy road called life. The greatest regrets of my life have come when my voice of love was silent. So, during this month that celebrates cupid but can represent so much more than romance, let your voice ring out with the sweet notes of love. Not the romantic, mushy kind...but the human kind!

Girlfriends

This is about one of the most precious things we have as women, our friends. Today I attended a surprise luncheon for a dear friend of mine that I have known since our sons were little boys. She had never been thrown a surprise party before and it was a joy to be part of  her luncheon. There was just a handful of us there but it was filled with sincere warmth, humor and camaraderie. Then, I visited my hairdresser later in the afternoon, and again, the discussion came up about our girlfriends and how, as we get older, they become more important and treasured. It is a different treasure than when we were younger (I am 56). Now, at this stage of my life, they are a lifeline to my life changes. Simply, they understand and support in a way no one else can.

Then, when I arrived home, I learned that a dear friend has Lymphoma. She is more of an acquaintance but she is someone I had a connection with when we met. So my voice calls to my friends and those of you visiting this site to hold her in prayer for perfect health. Sometimes the voice that is whispered to God is the most powerful voice we speak, especially when it is from our heart.

I treasure this opportunity, to have begun this forum. I am hopeful it helps all of us who are a little wary of speaking our Truth, of offering compassion in the face of struggle, to offer honesty with a voice of love, to be the strength when our friends are compromised, to be strong enough to be weak and vulnerable so our friends can support us. I hope that cyberspace proves to be a highway for such relationships. We need one another.

When Silence is Good

I have a saying over my computer that says, "A silent voice is sweet to hear." I truly do believe there comes a time when it is important to stand muted, to not defend, to simply allow the other person the floor. I have too often been Clarence Darrow in a dress, defending my right to be, to have done, to have the right or the entitlement. It is a curious and surreal experience to simply stop, shut up, listen and allow.

I discovered this hidden treasure in my silence. In 99% of the cases, truth and resolution rise to the top. Any false truth that I am perhaps telling myself is exposed for the justification that it was based upon. In other words, in my silence I find solace and honesty and even the space to allow the other person their own fears, their own truth, their own assessment or missed assessment without my noisy input. There is something extremely powerful when I sit in silence, especially when the someone I am with is angry, hurt, disappointed, afraid, or simply misinformed.

I don't especially feel good in these clothes. They feel tight and uncomfortable. But when it happens, as it did tonight, I find that while my silence feels like a tight pair of jeans after a full meal, what my silence truly does is  stretch everything out and I am comfortable in my own skin again. Tonight, I have tasted the acceptance of simply what is and I have found some peace in it all.

Rainclouds and Our Voice

For the first time in three years we are having rain in Southern California! The clouds, dark and ominous, hide within their bowels great amounts of precious water that once bulging to burst, drenches our parched earth and nourishes our hearts and souls. I am blessed (or some may think cursed) with finding analogy in all areas of my life and the clouds yesterday taught me such a beautiful lesson.

I have learned, through trial error and fire, to be a grateful. I always try to say thank you and to say grace before each meal. I say thank you when I receive a gift or if someone holds a door open for me. I try to be gracious in most situations because I have learned that gratitude is the most precious gift we can offer to anyone. But yesterday, what began first in my heart and quickly became a tidal wave within my whole body, was a sincere, profound, deeply moving gratitude for EVERYTHING in my life. The good, the bad, and the ugly. The gifts, the challenges, the ease the hardships. My personal cloud that had seemed so dark, that had been holding this deep feeling of gratitude for most of my life, burst open and drenched my heart and my soul.

I have been reading about gratitude for years. Of its critical importance to my life. I do not necessarily know how to translate what I now KNOW at a cellular level so people who read this can share my experience. I can only tell you that gratitude IS the bus, the car, the train, the plane, that takes us through each life experience and determines the outcome to almost everything in our life. It drives our attitude, our Voice, our decisions, our belief in more and acceptance of what is. It is as important as our heartbeat and as necessary as our breath. It cannot be confined, or limited, it must be unconditional. Within gratitude lay the seeds of change and transformation. It is the unseen beat of our life and our precious life depends upon it.

Our Mother's Voice

When it comes to my relationship with my mother, it falls into three separate but related books: Part I:  I want to be like her; Part II: I am like her; and Part III: I am afraid that I may become her. We cannot deny that, regardless of our relationship with the woman who birthed us into this world, we are forever influenced by her. And her voice, alive or long since silent, sits within our mind and our memory and whispers to us.

My mother has been absent from life for over 9 years. I find that her absence has made her voice more clear, more concise, as I have aged. She begins my day with me, as I wash my face and then she travels with me as I face down my fears and examine my beliefs and intentions. She is with me when I make mistakes and make wrong turns. My mother sings to me when I conquer a challenge or make a great dinner. She is the voice from my ancestors; she is the conquered limitations, she is the fear that can smother the fire of my dream but she is also the Phoenix that pulls me through to a new me.

I know this for certain, that the voice of my mother, when it arises, asks me to look deeply within myself and examine who I am, of what I want to let go, and whom I want to become. While I also know for certain that I am my own person, I also know deep within my heart, that I am a smoldering black pot of all the women who have come before me. I am also a bull horn to the shadow of a future I cannot see nor comprehend. I also know that like my grandmothers and mother before me, I am contributing through my voice, to the cauldron of the future. Together our own unique voices can be a symphony for the change the world longs for.

Our Tribes

Tonight, life delivered a gift to my doorstep. I shared the evening with an old friend, and two new friends, at a book signing and dinner that followed. I looked around the restaurant and saw many women friends who had gathered together to have a time that was separate from their male counterparts, cocooned within a world of voice where there is understanding. At our table, there was no talk of the Superbowl, or who might win; no talk of Tiger Woods nor golf; there was no male bashing or gender bias. We were together, the four of us, and although I had only just met two of the women, I recognized them as part of my "tribe."

We all need our tribe. It is a place we can go to reignite our sense of self. There was not always agreement at the table; but what there was at the table was silent, of a special brand, that sweet voice of understanding. When we discussed our experiences, our hearts, our sorrows, there was an unspoken voice present at all times, telling us that we were safe and somehow intuitively understood each other, even when we did disagree. What we each had to share and add to the conversation added light and opened up another vista of perception for us. In that intimate setting, in the middle of a crowded restaurant, we connected.

I also learned how important it is to take our voice, unique to us and perhaps foreign to the rest of the world we travel in, and speak it with confidence. We talked about how important it is to be the witness to what we  know; to carry our uniqueness confidently and with our heads held high. Whenever we take poise, and peace, and compassion into the chaos of life, we dilute the prejudices that threatens to swarm and smother the light we call our own. I hope this forum to be a tribe; a place for women to come to offer insight, to learn to have strength in their voice. To learn to trust life so that life can trust them. So welcome, my fellow tribes-women. Welcome home...

When It Hurts

I am currently reading "Broken Open" by Elizabeth Lesser. It's a travel guide of sorts through the sorrows of our life. Not the little disappointments ("Oh, it rained on my birthday...). It is more a handbook for the times when life cracks us like an egg over a hot skillet. It tenderly leads us through the really painful events of our lives, the things that transform us. In her book, Lesser quotes Lewis Thomas as having said, "We are built to make mistakes, coded for error."

For me, this is my permission slip for being human. I have lived a very full life. I have hurt people I love at my core and I have felt hurt because of something they said or did. To know that I am, as a human being, coded for mistakes, is a pass for being human. It does not retract nor does it excuse the times when hurt shows up on the wings of words, but it does put things into perspective. I care deeply for what I write here, to me it is a sacred space for us to learn to breath, to learn to have a voice. I never intended to, nor will it ever be my intention, to imply that having a voice means you will never make a mistake or experience the ups and downs of life. To me, having a voice means having a good wide set of oars as we row our boats through the choppy waters of life.

Perhaps the most important thing we can give to our life and the life of others is the grace to be human. To have some room to make mistakes, to hone our imperfections on the healing stone of our loved ones, be they friends, family, or partners. As you gain the power of your voice, be reminded that you, like everyone, is coded for error, built to make mistakes. Imperfection is the beauty of life. It makes for the most remarkable art, inspired poetry, and memorable stories. You are perfectly imperfect and beautiful in your unique expression. Wear it well!

When an Ooooop's Happens!

Sometimes missed communication is humorous as demonstrated by Laurel and Hardy in their famous skit, "Who's on First?" While there is a serious side to missed communication, there is always the lighter side of things!! Chaos and confusion is the stuff that comedy is made of!!

I recently posted a notice about a friend who lost her husband. At the time, the challenging part of the communication with her was that her primary language is Spanish and my own is English. As it turns our, it was her brother-in-law and not her esposa that passed away! I kept saying, "Esposa gone??" and she kept saying, "Si, si, si...!" Really, it would be a great scene in a movie! I treasure the reminder of that day: to tell people we love how we feel... and while the theme of the message that day was important, it tickles me to revisit the misunderstanding! It reminded me of all the humorous times missed communication has resulted in something funny in my life.

Today I had lunch with a slew of girlfriends and we laughed, and laughed, and laughed, and told jokes and laughed some more. Our conversation was like rays from the sun; it lightened up the room and everyone in it! It is the neighbor we get to know, the school friends that hang in there with us through thick and thin, the smile we share in the grocery line. It is easy for me to feel the important and serious side of having our voice heard...but it is also of equal importance to appreciate the power of laughter and merriment. It lowers blood pressure, keeps us young, and exercises face muscles!! Here's to our joyful voice being heard and our face not be sad and saggy!!