Old

The Mystery within...

"You look old," said a precocious young boy as he got off the school bus at Riveredge Nature Center where I was volunteering as a Teacher Naturalist.  At first I didn't know how to respond but then I asked him, "Is old good?"  Now it was his turn to pause and reflect.  He didn't answer right away either, but lucky for him, and me, he did say, "Yes."  The lesson plan for that warm fall morning was Sensitizing—creating a sense of wonder and awe by engaging the children in using their eyes, ears, nose, touch and taste in exploring and caring for the natural world around them.  In little Joey's and my exchange we also engaged our hearts.  Our encounter occurred in 2004.  Joey would be a teenager today.  I wonder how he and I would react to one another now, twelve years later.

My thoughts went back to "You look old," when a friend sent me a link to a blog site titled WOW:  Women's Older Wisdom.  It led me to remember old is good.  In my past 72 years I've had ample opportunity to learn from my mistakes, which helps me be more accepting of the mistakes of others, but I also know there will always be more learning opportunities for me.   Now, when I am having a particularly bad day, I can be confident when I go to sleep at night things will be different in the morning.  Maybe not better, but at least different.  And although I have growing physical limitations, through the years I have gradually learned to leave behind restrictions imposed by others.  Would I want to be young again?  I don't think so.  It was a lot of hard work to get where I am.  But I also know keeping up in a changing world is work that never ends.  Creating a sense of awe and wonder that engages hearts is a fascinating work I hope to do until the day I die.

Nature's web of life includes us and our interactions.  I invite you to connect with my readers and me and to leave comments, even precocious ones.  They can make us all better.  Instructions on "How to Comment" electronically can now be found on the top bar above each post within www.godneverhurries.com.  If the commenting instructions aren't clear, let us know.  The challenge of a changing world begs we engage and interact with one another.

What if pause, reflect and share became a part of our every day?

Conscious Women and Men

The Mystery within...   

I know my consciousness came through darkness and struggle with abuse that I suspect is at the heart of all consciousness.  My first need was for courage.  I list ingredients for courage in "God Never Hurries:"

"Courage Recipe:

Accept my fear.

Trust my mind, heart and gut.

Trust God.

Trust others and learn from their reactions." 

Also from my memoir:  "Early the next morning, while my parents were still asleep, I read an article in a publication called Radical Grace.  A 68-year-old grandmother wrote it to her granddaughter on her graduation in hopes that she could help her choose life.  She wrote of unholy martyrdom, diseased concepts of sin, masochistic obedience, and the need to always search for truth.  Her words touched deeply."  And "…the following morning while they still slept I read another article in the same publication that spoke of women's compliance and the resulting destructive behaviors I know too well."

I recently listened to a video interview between Jungian Analyst Dr. Jean Shinoda Bolen M.D. and Sue Monk Kidd http://suemonkkidd.com/media-room/media-features/video/, author of "The Dance of the Dissident Daughter."  In the video Kidd tells of a controversy resulting from a presentation she gave in a convent's space.  A ninety plus year old looking nun in authority called her in the office and questioned if the controversy was true.  Upon confirmation the nun replied, "It's high time people know that God is more than two men and a bird."  Which led me to ponder a recipe for abuse.

Abuse Recipe:

Claim masculine superiority.

Refuse to integrate feminine spirituality that honors the body and the earth.

Silence dissenting voices.

Create doctrine and dogma that obscures the sacredness of everyday life.

Claim infallibility.

What if we all questioned the heart of our spiritual conciousness?

Friendship

The Mystery within...

This weekend I accepted a reciprocal invitation to share a meal, and continue renewing an old friendship, with a couple my late husband and I knew before we were married, and while our children were young.  Our reminiscing took us back to the first places we lived after marriage, and the subsequent dwellings we occupied that eventually led us to our present homes.  We marveled at the advancing ages of our children, and grandchildren, and shared our health status and other challenges that come with age.  We became quite aware of our temporal timeline.  I was stunned by how fast time has streaked by in the intervening years, and grateful to be renewing this old bond.  It led me to reflect on what I have learned, and I am still learning, about friendship.               

One of the most affirming acknowledgements and insight I received regarding friendships came in a Clinical Pastoral Experience handout I received back in the 1990’s.  It was a joy to find this Xeroxed copy again of a Milwaukee Journal Sentinel newspaper column written by the psychotherapist Philip Chard titled, “Some of us don’t need many people to be truly happy.”  Basically the article acknowledged that we are a social species but that not all of us are cut out for “…a life crowded with people.”  Chard further wrote, “Many of my clients could benefit from being less people-focused, not more.”  ‘Mostly what makes people crazy is other people,’ is how one associate puts it.”  And …”while it has been rightfully said that you can’t know yourself without being known by others, it is equally true that you can’t know yourself without finding time to be alone with just you.”  I still look forward to reading Chard’s continuing weekly columns.   

And the guests on this week’s On-Being podcast, Parker Palmer and Courtney Martin – The Inner Life of Rebellion, told of the human aspect of rebellion that includes the importance of a discerning community and inter-generational friendships that connect us to both our inner and outer lives thereby transforming us into life-giving people.  Our soul was compared to a shy wild animal that knows how to survive and only makes an appearance in a safe space.  Paradoxically, we also need both chutzpah and humility, be open to critics, and to know our hidden wholeness that will allow us to experience discomfort and learn in public.  It was said that we are each other’s health care workers, and faithfulness trumps effectiveness.

And I am currently reading Bessel A. van der Kolk’s book, “The Body Keeps the Score” telling how the trauma’s we experience affect us, mentally and physically, along with our relationships with others.  He writes:  “Being able to hover calmly and objectively over our thoughts, feelings, and emotions (an ability I’ll call mindfulness throughout this book) and then take our time to respond allows the executive brain to inhibit, organize and modulate the hardwired automatic reactions preprogrammed into the emotional brain.  This capacity is crucial for preserving our relationships with our fellow human beings.”  Responding to others with a friendly face and soothing voice does create a safe space where others and we can feel calm.

What if all our hearts could be tied together in friendship?      

Help

The Mystery within...

It’s hard for one who is accustomed to being the helper to ask for help.  I know this because I am coming to understand there are some things I can no longer do anymore.  Bending, kneeling, weeding, moving the stones

out of my rock garden, laying down a weed barrier, and putting the stones back is just one example.  That space looked so ratty with weeds totally obscuring the stones I gathered on healing walks with my late beach buddy Bear.  Restoring my rock garden felt to be an overwhelming task.

But then my daughter offered to help and I got the bright idea to phone and ask if my three grandchildren would to come and help her.  I could hear grumbling in the background when their father said they would come.  But I didn’t cave.  And they came.  I told them why those stones were important to me and their enthusiasm grew for the task.  Their math skills were employed in measuring and cutting the weed barrier, and they felt great pride in a hard job well done and looking great!  

Well done!

They moved all the stones, twice, that once helped me know there were limits to my helping and that I was worthy of good self-care as I struggled with my aging parents care needs.

I know I still have a lot more to learn about asking for help.

What if we could learn the right balance between being a helper and asking for help?

Courage and Synchronicity

God is...

This past week I have become aware of the inter-relationship between courage and synchronicity.  And somewhere I remember hearing or reading, "Synchronicity is another word for God."  It took courage to make the irrevocable choice to have my constant companion, sweet yellow lab Ben, put down last week.  Thoughts returned to another time in my life when I needed courage while struggling with my aging parents' care needs.  In my memoir, "God Never Hurries," I even wrote a recipe for courage. The main ingredients are:  "...accept my fear; trust my mind, heart and gut; trust God; trust others and learn from their reactions...".  I think the need for courage to do hard things puts me on a heightened sense of alert where I become aware of the messages God sends through others and the natural world.  

The vet's recommendation to "not wait too long"; my niece's e-mail, arriving at the height of second guessing my decision, included a quote I once shared with her, "Indecision cuts like a dull knife;" and my neighbor's tearful telling of how very sick Ben looked the last time she saw him out in the yard, all felt like messages from God that it was okay.  An even before I knew of the futility of his diagnosis my shopping cart had rolled past a giant Kleenex sale display for twelve boxes of 230 2-ply tissues.  God knew I would need them.  

In the four days between my decision and scheduling the vet to come to the house, Ben was totally cherished.  My daughter's and my service was outstanding.  On Ben's second last walk to the woods my daughter came along and  took a picture of us about to cross the bridge over the Milwaukee River.  Just before Ben died I told him he would soon see Bear again and you guys can wait for me.  I'll come later.  He died with his tail wagging.

What if we could all cherish one another, feel totally cherished, and die with our tails wagging?