From the Eagle's Nest

Compassion and Ethics

2012-01-21T15:07:00.000-08:00

Many years ago I made a spiritual retreat with a group ofwomen at a retreat house in Houston, Texas. Sometime within few years or months near that time I also took a courseabout the philosophy of morality. Whilethe ideas I gleaned and contemplated as a result of those two events did notchange either my moral philosophy nor mylife's ethical framework, I gathered much that both began and encouraged deeperconsideration of why I chose as I did then and continue to choose through mylife since. Indeed, as I have learned tolive more connected with the truth of my soul inculcated with the depth of Spiritof Love and compassion I continue learn, my decisioning process has becomeincreasingly built on the foundation of ethics framed within the aura of asmuch compassion as I am able to experience.

To my way of thinking, compassion is the agape we aboutwhich we hear and read, the love for others that seeks only the highest goodwithout judgment about those others, this deep commitment to accept others withoutquestion while learning to maintain the balance of appropriate boundaries. My more religiously fundamental friends andfamily will state this as, "Hate the sin, love the sinner." For me, it is much more accurate to expressmy approach as this: love the person andaccept and respect the choices that person makes that have nothing to do withlove and acceptance of the person her/himself. Perhaps an example might be helpful as illustration.

Some years ago I had a committed relationship with apassionate, mercurial man whose emotional and psychological balance began todeteriorate towards what eventually could be described as manic-depressivedisorder. He was very clearly in amental and emotionally depressed state over a very long period that continuedonly to worsen as life events seemed to ensure more and more pain anddifficulty. When I committed to marry him, we had beenfriends for over three years and seemed reasonably stable in most ways,although he definitely showed signs of wide mood swings at times when the goinggot a bit more than usually challenging.

Then, the downhill slide began in earnest after moving tosouthern California and his growing lack of realistic thinking and inability toboth find and maintain adequate employment. The proverbial final straw began bending towards breaking when webrought his elderly mother to live with us and spent the last short years ofher life dealing with her declining health and death. He was becoming more and more financially irresponsibleand erratic, and eventually I had no choice left but to file forbankruptcy. Over the six years ofmarriage cohabited only two. Otherwise Istayed to take care of his mother and to provide as best I could for both ofus. After her death I stayed one moreyear because he had become suicidal. This was the only compassionate choice I had at the time. Staying through the end of her life was acompassionate choice for her since I was the only person upon whom she couldrely for her needs. I loved her.

The final decisions were compassionate for both of us. While I filed for divorce finally, the statewas kind and compassionate in recognizing the short duration of our lifetogether and annulled the relationship. He was compassionate eventually in opening the door and telling me hewould be able to make it without me taking responsibility for him anylonger. And I was compassionate towardsmyself. We remained friends and arestill, although I have had little contact in the years since I left southernCalifornia. However, I do not miss thefinancial cartwheels I endured or the emotional whirlwind that I lived eachday.

Any serious decision, if it is to be the best one, must beconsidered with the clearest honesty possible in both mind and heart. There usually is unity and peace when onemakes a decision based on those together. It can be very easy to let the "monkey mind" confuse theprocess, but taking the time to examine what one's heart says in the silenceand what one's mind knows when the cobwebs are swept out can lead to the mostloving choice. That choice is not alwaysthe easiest or the least painful in some respects, but it usually is the bestone. A decision made in fear rarely is agood decision, nor is it compassionate towards one's self.

When I have faced my aunt's end-of-life choices, thecompassionate choice was not to extend her process of leaving this earthly homeunnecessarily. She had clearly andfrequently expressed her desire to pass from life without intervention. To honor that request was not a difficultdecision, and her passing was peaceful and actually rather beautiful. She had lived just weeks short of ninetyyears.

The ethical choices in life, whether about relationship,job, or any other area where we must choose, are the best choices when weremember to consult our hearts without self-deception. Unfortunately, many among us have not learnedself-honesty and integrity in living. Yet, it is not up to any one of us to judge or condemn when anotherchooses badly. All we can do is loveeach other and accept each other, be compassionate companions.

Try Again Until...

2012-01-02T11:57:00.000-08:00

Here it is two years later and I shall try again to make a habit of sharing a few thoughts now and then. I have read it takes 21 consistent days to form a new habit. Day 1 has begun.

David and I were talking a little earlier about life-changing events and the effects such things can have on how one chooses to live afterward. I had just been reading a short bio of Michelle Cruz-Rosado, a woman who survived the World Trade Center collapse and, as a result, made huge changes in her life. Hers is a story worth reading, and what she shares with whomever will open to what she has to offer definitely will benefit.

Many times in the thirty years since I was shot in an armed robbery I have returned to how that singular event was the beginning agent of all the changes that followed. I continue to learn and to grow because I chose then not to become a victim, not to suffer. Often I have commented that the time I was unable to walk -- and that was as short a time as I could manage -- was the time I learned I had wings and could fly. It took a few more years afterwards to exercise those wings enough to begin to soar.

Perhaps now, with time to balance and distance from the old pain, I can speak more openly about some of those changes and the impetus behind them. I sense it is an appropriate time to talk about how significant events can be the source of courage to take control of how one chooses to live. While much of this is history, the effects linger, continuing to color not only my life, but the lives of others who were part of the unfolding of our lives at the time. Thich Nhat Hanh has said something to the effect that in coming to understanding we are able to love. I offer, then, the opportunity to understand. Whether those whom I love and who are sometimes hesitantly part of my life or not can open to accepting my love again is their choice. But I still will love them and it is in that spirit I write.

One of the most profound effects I experienced from that long-ago event and continue to live each day is very simple to write and fraught with implications to live. I choose how to live in the way most expressive of my being. I live as seems most appropriate for who I am, not as other people think is best for their interests. When one shares daily life with others that decision and ensuing action can have profoundly difficult and painful effects in the beginning and often long into the ensuing years. However, living with integrity demands choosing honestly and accepting the responsibility for those choices. I have long accepted the pain that sometimes still bites my very soul but I do not suffer. That, too, is my choice.

Ah, there is so much to share, so many thoughts crowding into my fingers to type onto this space. But this is a blog, not a book. More later.

2010-01-21T10:44:00.000-08:00

Catching Up

Has it really been so long since I wrote anything? So much has happened, so many good and wonderful things!

One of the most wonderful is the family you see here. Son Brendan (the adult on the right) and his partner Andy adopted those four beautiful children last year. From left to right - Jacob (10), Kim (5), Louis (8) and Andrew (12). The details of my new grandchildren's lives prior to coming into our family are unhappy, to say the least. It probably will be many years before they will be whole in spirit, and everyone who knows of them holds them in love and the healing light and power of the Sacred.

I was blessed to be present on the day of their court appearance for the final adoption. Even the caseworker and guardian ad litum, who see abandoned, neglected, abused and otherwise mistreated children regularly, were in tears during the hearing. The judge couldn't stop beaming at everyone. As he made the final statement and signed the final document, Andrew, who was standing next to him, quietly stated: "At last, I have a REAL family." I think that did all of us in emotionally.

Another big event occurred in late May, still in Austin, TX. Son Ross received his B.S. in Economics and was accepted into graduate school to work towards a Masters in Public Accounting. To quote daughter Maggie, that makes six out of six siblings to finish college. I use "finish" with some hesitation, since I'm not sure if it applies accurately. It was wonderful to share the occasion with four of the other children, Ross's fiancee and now wife Vivian, her mother, along with the children's father and his sister Marjorie. It is probably accurate to write that I am incredibly proud of the hard work and accomplishments of all those beautiful, successful grown adults who, like it or not, call me "Mom."

Ross and Vivian were married during the summer and are expecting Molly Rose in a couple of months. I like the name they have chosen for their little one and look forward to meeting her when I can. Ross will be getting his Masters in the summer and, I am sure, will be glad to be finished.

For me, life is good, peaceful and moves gently along. I have enough petty annoyances to remind me I am still very human and enough peace to tell me I have lived long enough to know the joy of seeing hard work from many years yield results now. David is happier and more himself than ever I could have hoped or imagined. I am grateful to have learned a little about being truly compassionate and loving unconditionally. Such loving opens up freedom of spirit, not only in me, but in those with whom I have contact. All of us are free to be truly who we are, no conditions, no criticism, no hidden agendas...just loving.

Perhaps I shall make more effort the share a few thoughts on a more regular basis. I'll give it some thought.

2008-02-01T10:37:00.000-08:00

A Few Thoughts

There has been a question pushing at me lately and everything finally fell into place this morning as I was driving into work. Why is it that, while I am completely and unequivocally committed to living responsibly with as much awareness and practice of environmental and financial sustainability, so much of the rhetoric, most of arguments and discussions I hear and read leave me cold? Rather than feel energized and inspired, much of what is said either bores me almost to distraction or leaves me feeling oddly dissatisfied and noncommital. Then I realized anew what seems to be a significant majority of attention and discussion is somewhat negative and the arguments for change are based either on fear or thinly disguised and questionably sensible consumerism. "If we don't do this, a terrible ... will happen." "If we don't this or that, something awful will..." Fill in the blanks. We all are aware, bombarded as we are.

There is enough to consider to make many blog posts. The frequently irresponsible consumerism in our Western society, also infecting much of the rest of the world, is a subject I will leave for another time. I work in a financially focused business where I see daily, even hourly some days now, the terrible effects of ill-considered, unwise financial decisions. For now I shall stick to the thoughts about the overarching and often subtle attitudes influencing use of resources and the effects on environment and lifestyle.

My partner is dedicated to working towards more sustainable lifestyle and in building community around that goal. He is an activist. I am just as committed but something about so much of what he reads and shares with me, about what I find for myself and hear around me troubles me....or bores me. Perhaps part of my reaction comes from the fact I know enough science to understand the environmental issues, enough about relationship and living as a human being to understand the needs and desires we hold in common. Consequently, after a while, enough is enough. I do not need daily sermons or arguments to convince me further. I got it already. So, my next thought is to get moving and stop talking so much.

However, that is only the first and easiest reaction. Why my heart and mind have not been captured by all the talk and words has made me think hard about why. Then, this morning, the light came on. Highly intelligent, deep thinking people have been and will continue to discourse. Yet, so much of what they have to say comes from a deep fear of what can happen if we do not "get it" soon. I absolutely do not discount the seriousness of the environmental and lifestyle sustainability issues. These are critical times demanding critical thinking and responsible, sensible choices and change. Nothing, though, will benefit by acting from a place of fear. My own attitude will make all the difference in how successful any effort I make might be. Acting from a place of fear often sends the message of "I have to do this or that or something so terrible will happen." This can become a self-fulfilling prophecy out of the negative energy fear creates.

As a response to my perceptions of the fear I offer a beautiful, profound essay by Clarissa Pinkola Estes. I cannot say it any better.

You Were Made For This
by Clarissa Pinkola Estes

My friends, do not lose heart. We were made for these times. I have heard from so many recently who are deeply and properly bewildered. They are concerned about the state of affairs in our world now. Ours is a time of almost daily astonishment and often righteous rage over the latest degradations of what matters most to civilized, visionary people.

You are right in your assessments. The lustre and hubris some have aspired to while endorsing acts so heinous against children, elders, everyday people, the poor, the unguarded, the helpless, is breathtaking. Yet, I urge you, ask you, gentle you, to please not spend your spirit dry by bewailing these difficult times. Especially do not lose hope. Most particularly because, the fact is that we were made for these times. Yes. For years, we have been learning, practicing, been in training for and just waiting to meet on this exact plain of engagement.

I grew up on the Great Lakes and recognize a seaworthy vessel when I see one. Regarding awakened souls, there have never been more able vessels in the waters than there are right now across the world. And they are fully provisioned and able to signal one another as never before in the history of humankind. Look out over the prow; there are millions of boats of righteous souls on the waters with you. Even though your veneers may shiver from every wave in this stormy roil, I assure you that the long timbers composing your prow and rudder come from a greater forest. That long-grained lumber is known to withstand storms, to hold together, to hold its own, and to advance, regardless.

In any dark time, there is a tendency to veer toward fainting over how much is wrong or unmended in the world. Do not focus on that. There is a tendency, too, to fall into being weakened by dwelling on what is outside your reach, by what cannot yet be. Do not focus there. That is spending the wind without raising the sails. We are needed, that is all we can know. And though we meet resistance, we more so will meet great souls who will hail us, love us and guide us, and we will know them when they appear. Didn't you say you were a believer? Didn't you say you pledged to listen to a voice greater? Didn't you ask for grace? Don't you remember that to be in grace means to submit to the voice greater?

Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach. Any small, calm thing that one soul can do to help another soul, to assist some portion of this poor suffering world, will help immensely. It is not given to us to know which acts or by whom, will cause the critical mass to tip toward an enduring good. What is needed for dramatic change is an accumulation of acts, adding, adding to, adding more, continuing. We know that it does not take everyone on Earth to bring justice and peace, but only a small, determined group who will not give up during the first, second, or hundredth gale.

One of the most calming and powerful actions you can do to intervene in a stormy world is to stand up and show your soul. Soul on deck shines like gold in dark times. The light of the soul throws sparks, can send up flares, builds signal fires, causes proper matters to catch fire. To display the lantern of soul in shadowy times like these-to be fierce and to show mercy toward others; both are acts of immense bravery and greatest necessity. Struggling souls catch light from other souls who are fully lit and willing to show it. If you would help to calm the tumult, this is one of the strongest things you can do.

There will always be times when you feel discouraged. I too have felt despair many times in my life, but I do not keep a chair for it. I will not entertain it. It is not allowed to eat from my plate. The reason is this: In my uttermost bones I know something, as do you. It is that there can be no despair when you remember why you came to Earth, who you serve, and who sent you here. The good words we say and the good deeds we do are not ours. They are the words and deeds of the One who brought us here. In that spirit, I hope you will write this on your wall: When a great ship is in harbor and moored, it is safe, there can be no doubt. But that is not what great ships are built for.

2007-11-30T16:48:00.000-08:00

Dancing, Dangerous God

I heard a phrase in a song and it has piqued my imagination. "Dancing, dangerous God" How I like that thought. Perhaps I might share some of what comes to mind as I think about a relationship in which that is an appropriate description of the Sacred, as I understand and experience such.

Probably an accurate picture of how I relate with the Divine is one of incredible passion. I am, to use someone else's words, God-mad. Most of my life, until a few years ago, I had read and heard the term "unconditional love" and believed it might be possible. However, I felt challenged to integrate such a concept into reality in my mind and spirit. Although I still get off-center from the knowing of such love (LOVE being my favorite name for the Sacred), one day I encountered this reality of whom I am part and who is greater, who is all of us and all of life and all that is.

The encounter was not my first, nor has it been the last. I seem to have lost track of how many times I have touched Love and known Love so beyond my ability to articulate. From the first instant I realized what had happened, I was changed. I understood the phrase from the Christian scriptures, "Perfect love casts out fear." It does. I have a healthy respect for the evil we humans can inflict on one another, and I am pragmatic and realistic. Yet, I live in constant presence and knowledge of Love and I believe rainbows and hummingbirds and the laughter of children are all music both audibly and visually expressing the unlimited power and magnificence of Love.

This is a dancing, dangerous God, if that word expresses the Sacred Reality better for some. This God dances in joy of sharing love and such love brings our spirits to sing and dance. The dance makes the flowers bloom, the rain to come (hopefully), the birds to soar and sing, the mountains to shield and to scrape the skies. We know the dance of this God in the hug of a friend, the gentle touch of a mother's caress on her child's face, the patient listening and sharing of thoughts.

This is a dangerous God. To know the Sacred Reality and to delve into the Love and all the challenge of what unconditional love can mean is to face all the difficulties of our modern lives, the crime and hatefulness, the fear and anguish of illness and injury, the unanswerable questions we ask. To dance with this God is to dance across the firestones and through the flames of each moment and know, regardless of any momentary challenge we might face, the Lover never leaves us and shares each of those moments and challenges. To dance with this God and to accept such Love as the very root of our being is to realize and live the dangerous knowledge that each being is just as loved, just as precious and just as sacred as we.

Once we begin this dance we no longer trudge, even when we go into the darkest paths to seek out and to enlighten our shadows, to find our own beauty and majesty, then to find that same beauty and majesty in every other person we meet. It is immensely dangerous to find the shadows and look into them with the light and power of unconditional love. There we shall discover just how lovable, how gifted, how magnificent each of us truly is. And our lives will be forever changed as we begin to learn how to live with such magic.

2007-11-26T11:32:00.000-08:00

Choosing Compassion

Recently a friend commented on a particularly challenging reality so many of us face as we attempt to live as caring, compassionate and connected beings. Her reaction came as the result of reading another blog I wrote in which I shared the story of a man whose relationship I lost as he lost all his relationships, his career, and even his mental health. Her observation spoke to the truth that there are no guarantees that even our best efforts will not end in loss and pain. We can do everything right in a relationship, but the results are not completely ours to control.

There was sadness in her comments but also positive resolve to continue choosing compassion as a way of life.Ever since reading those comments I have been thinking about them. I made the choice to be a compassionately loving person and there is no other path I would take. I believe I made that choice when I agreed to be in physical existence at this time. For me, there is no other way to live but to love without condition and to love with compassion.

I also became a bit curious about the distinction between compassion and altruism. Blame it on an inveterate desire to use words precisely. My daughter Maggie says, "Mom, you're such a Virgo...and so am I." However it plays out, I make efforts to express my most accurate meaning and hope my words are understood as I mean them to be understood. That is why I checked my definitions to be assured of clarity. Of course, the desire for clarity around those two terms has led me on another merry mind chase.

To share (for the sake of clarity) before I proceed on with why I continue to choose a compassionate life: altruism is about doing for the benefit of others without expectation of return. Compassion is all about altruism but with an added motivation - to alleviate suffering. In either instance, there is no thought of or desire for recompense or return. It seems to me that compassion is altruism taken to the level of the heart in a manner suggesting a sharing from a deeply personal place. There appears to be a more passionate connection between the one who loves and acts with compassion and the one whose suffering evokes such response. Altruism is a good and necessary quality. Compassion makes it personal.

As I think about being compassionate, I realize it would be so much easier, less challenging, take less energy and time to stay present with people on the level of altruism. Altruistic people do care, otherwise they would not give so generously to facilitate all manner of beneficial activities. To love beyond that place is to become more deeply connected to the lives of those who suffer and seek not only to improve the welfare of those who have need, but to seek to understand the individual pain the need causes. Perhaps it is such understanding that recognizes the often painful reality that such needs cannot always be resolved completely and the opportunities for continued suffering are abundant because of insufficient resolution. Yet, even with continued suffering, compassion seeks to ease the pain even in the midst of its cause. Compassion is not so much about doing as being.

Even as I think about all these things, I realize I choose compassion because it is who I am. There is no other answer. It is, though, a definite choice. It comes from a place where I have experienced and now live in complete awareness and growing understanding of unconditional love. To have realized I receive the gift of unconditional love evokes the only response I understand, to love unconditionally myself. This is action, not a feeling when it is comfortable and easy. Loving without condition and acting with compassion are anything but easy and are often very uncomfortable. Because this loving is unconditional, there is no motiviation, no expectation, no desire for anything but the ability to continue. Love is for its own sake.

On occasion, sometimes frequently, other times not at all, there are the "warm fuzzies" of feeling to help the process along. Because I seek to love without condition and because I have the gift of discernment, seeing people and situations very clearly, I recognize easily the ugliness, occasional stupidity, frequent selfishness and all the foibles, mistakes and mis-steps all of us experience as humans. Yet, loving without condition allows me to see and to experience such challenges without losing my balance. Along with the darkness a person can show to everyone around I also see the beauty in that person's soul, sometimes unrecognizable or even unknown to that person. The challenge is to know when to speak and when to be silent, when to act and when to stand still. Above all, respect for each person is key to true compassion. There are times nothing can be done to ease the rough path a person walks as result of the choices he or she has made. Compassion, then, is standing beside the road and being ready for whatever can arise, even if it is nothing at all.

2007-11-22T07:53:00.000-08:00

Celebration

Nothing defines us more than our celebrations, and all of us in every culture, society or group of people celebrate our connectedness with others with more traditions and passion than anything else we can imagine. The power of the United States' celebration of Thanksgiving Day is its recognition of the importance of community and, to a large majority, the nuclear family itself. Perhaps the angst so many people feel when this holiday is not what we imagine it “should be” is how clearly we recognize the lack of close community and disconnectedness some of us live.

This day is the one day, almost more than any other on the calendars of U.S. residents, when we recognize the one truth by which we define ourselves. We are community beings. I have yet to see or hear a person define him/herself without at least some reference to connection with someone else. Even the Christian metaphorical description of the Sacred is one of community, the Trinity. All cultural and religious traditions are centered on relationship of one sort or another. Community, family, togetherness is what defines life itself. It is something not only to be recognized as important, but something to be celebrated as life-giving and life-supporting.

One of the most powerful examples I have observed was the life of a man whose spirit and life virtually disintegrated as he lost, one by one, all the signs of connectedness and community he valued all his life. I met him in mid-1985, a few months after returning to single living. He was an effusive, gregarious, emotionally expressive man, Jewish by birth and from Brooklyn. My experience of my Jewish friends and acquaintances tells me this is probably a culture and identity with some of the most powerful traditions we can imagine.

Over the ten years we were connected I saw a vital, intense and interesting man become someone no one who had known him before this time would recognize. Before we met in Houston, Texas, he had lived all his life in New York or close by. He had enjoyed a successful career on Wall Street until one of the severe economic downturns ended his work there. In very few years he lost his marriage, his home, his livelihood and his father. All these things were crucial to him as identification of who he believed himself to be. When he and I met on a commuter bus to downtown Houston and our jobs, he was living in an apartment in the southwest side of the city and working on the security staff of one of Texas' major banks.

By the time we went separate directions he was mentally disassociated from everyone except the rare times he was able to see his son. He lost his ability to maintain adequate employment as what had begun as depression took on the characteristics of what now is often described as bi-polar disorder. He no longer could enjoy reasonably intelligent conversations, nor could he maintain responsible behavior. He lost his ability to relate and to see himself as related to others, except his son. This last characteristic was exacerbated and hastened when his mother died. Eventually, because he knew his inability to be responsible, reliable and relational had destroyed our life together, he requested that we go separate ways. He no longer wanted to try to live in relationship because he did not know himself to be connected to anyone or anything.

We seek to celebrate our connectedness, our identities as family and community. This is so crucial to our wholeness that we build all sorts of traditions and expectations into one day in the year. It is no wonder no other celebration carries as much baggage and has so much potential for anguish and joy. Our spirits long for unity with each other and with the Sacred, and when we lose some of the connections, it is no surprise we can find this day to be so difficult. Then, if we choose, we can begin to rebuild and to rediscover the connections to others and with the Sacred Presence. Then we can again celebrate and be grateful.

2007-11-18T19:00:00.000-08:00

21^st Century Contemplative

Agreeing to ordination was a big step. In the weeks since I have been thinking and wondering. What next? What does this mean? Where to I go? What is my path? What do I want?

The answer is almost unbelievably simple, so clear and bright it makes my eyes widen in surprise at how easy it all is. Recently, regarding another subject entirely, my friend Ann said to me, “We humans make things so difficult.” How true, so very true...about just anything. We make things so difficult and muddy up the clear waters without a second thought. Then we wonder why the water isn't as clear and beautiful, why we can't see the bottom of the stream. It is time to stand still, to allow the fullness of what the stream carries to settle again, to see to the center once more.

The other evening I listened to two talks, accompanied by short guided meditations/visualizations by two women, one a writer with many years' life experience, one an ordained minister who seems to be opening some new avenues of spiritual possibility and celebration. I connected with both, more strongly with the second. When she knew I also am an ordained minister and open to sharing the gifts I possess, she asked where my areas of interest lie. All I could say at that moment was: I am still finding my way and I work best with individuals and small groups.

As I have continued to consider her question in the light of where my spirit soars and finds best and most complete expression, I realize my path is the same as it has been most of my life. It is a path not readily understood in twenty-first century society outside of the ancient monastic traditions. Nor, even if understood, is it a path 99.9% of the spiritually connected individuals in the world will choose. Yet, it is my path. My deepest and truest being is one of a contemplative mystic.

What does this mean with respect to how I can share my gifts and talents? What does this mean in how I live my life from day to day: working full-time, sharing a home and what time we both have with a partner, seeing to my aging aunt's needs, wants and business affairs? Added to those question is the first one: how do I make use of my availability as a spiritual healer, teacher and presence?

Frequently the picture many conjure of a contemplative is one of a “navel gazer,” one out of touch with the society in which he or she lives, unrealistic, impractical and often fairly useless. Perhaps that can be true, but it has not been my experience. Some of the most profound contemplatives to have graced the times in which they have lived have had powerful presence, deeply aware of life around them and in them, intensely practical about all manner of issues, contributors to those whose lives they touched in a diversity of methods and concerns. A mystic is almost never at odds with living in his or her time, although often painfully aware of the all-too frequent disconnect between the day-to-day realities and spiritual truths and values. Many mystics also are powerful activists for causes to whom they give passion and presence. Perhaps the activism can take a public forum, or it can be hidden and supportive of others who more visible about various causes.

Hildegarde of Bingen was a 12^th century nun whose medical knowledge, musical composition and leadership skills are finding an audience even now. Teresa of Avila was a 16^th century woman whose practical skills reformed the Carmelite order of nuns from women living a life of ease and frequent frivolity to lives of usefulness and significance. Her intelligence and keenly articulate observations and teachings caused her to be named “Doctor of the Church,” a rarely bestowed honor from the Roman Catholic church and one given only to three women. Today we know of Pema Chadron, Thomas Merton, and perhaps even Mahatma Ghandi might be considered in this company. The Dalai Lama and Thich Nhat Hanh walk their paths in our current world, both sharing their intelligent observations, counsel and wisdom.

These are names we recognize. Yet, they are not alone. Many men and women have found their most fulfilling roles, regardless of career or other interests, as contemplative mystics. Some are outwardly active in society, some are hidden from all but those who live nearest them. All mystics share a common focus and understanding. There is a deeper, more fundamental way of living beneath or above the appearances of daily life. Mystics seek unity with the One, the Sacred, and understand this unity is both internal and external as the mystic seeks truth about one's self, one's relationships and with the greater reality of the world, the universe and the unseen spiritual realms. To those mystics whose spiritual focus follows the Eastern traditions, as well as to those who are part of Western society, there is one goal, one purpose, many paths, each as unique as the individual walking that path.

As I have thought about my role in my time and my place in the world, I have learned how crucial balance is. I care that so many are careless of resources, thoughtless of responsibility, and focused their spirits' detriment on consumerism and empty goals that are always elusive and never fully satisfying. I care that so many people are lonely, frightened, fearful, noisy to cover the silence they find even more painful than the noise itself. My place is to be silent, to bring light, to accept without judgment even while not bowing to the society of youth and material goods. My role is one of surrendering any attitude I may have of believing I can control and choose for others, surrendering to the process of actively being in life. It is my time to think, to write, to speak when appropriate and to do all without fear, knowing I walk completely within and completely united with the reality of Love

2007-11-08T14:58:00.000-08:00

Spirit Eagle Soars

It took years, who's to say how many, but I finally made the decision and acted on it. Over a long time some folks have asked me if I had or why I hadn't been ordained as a minister. Now that I think about it my excuses for not doing it always did seem somewhat lame, weak and clearly avoiding myself and my gifts. Regardless of that, I truly did not want to ally myself with a dogma I cannot swallow, to which I cannot give allegience. It took time, but here I am: Reverend (some would say irreverent) Gini Smith, aka Spirit Eagle.

One of the major hurdles I had to leap -- and then discover it had disappeared during the leap -- was accepting ordained status as a reality in my life became not so much about me and more about what other people need in their lives. We humans usually need ceremony and ritual of one sort or another to mark important events and times. We also usually feel most comfortable if there is a person standing in as ceremonial leader who has recognized and accepted status to perform the requested remembrance, be it wedding, memorial, or any other deeply meaningful moment. The other realm where we seek spiritual leadership is exactly in that area - spiritual experiences. We want someone who truly has spiritual authority and presence in the role of leadership and guidance.

What does this mean in my life? What do I plan to do with it? Good questions, ones I am only beginning to answer. Certainly, over many years I have gained education in theology, philosophy, various religious traditions and practices. I have become recognized by those who know me as a spiritual leader, a healer of the spirit. Time and experience combined with learning and growth in my own spirituality have led me on the trail towards realizing who I am and the gifts I may share. Now it is time to use all this and I offer it freely.

Right now I am still somewhat awed at the courage it seemed to take to make such a step and am absorbing my own recognition of who I have been all along. My role is one of opening the windows and doors to allow the spirit of love and power to blow through and to bring the beauty of light and warmth wherever desired.

2007-07-04T11:01:00.000-07:00

Feed Your Own Peace

I’ve been rambling through the thoughts Mary Rose O’Reilly collected in her wonderful “The Barn At The End Of The Road.” (with thanks to my friend Maitri for suggesting it.) I came across the last sentence of one of O’Reilly’s essays yesterday and it resonated through my spirit much like the deeply satisfying reverberation of a Buddhist temple gong. “Feed your own peace…and leave your neighbor alone.”

The gist of the essay I was reading deals with the author’s thoughts while spending time at her family’s very old and very simple house by a Minnesota lake. She had heard the sound of a loon on the lake and was somewhat surprised, given the large growth in population around the lake, the proliferation of jet skis and other disruptions into what she had considered a peaceful retreat for most of her life. Of course, she included a perspective from her grandfather who had complained years earlier that the loons would disappear because there were too many people at the lake, perhaps ten families at the time. O’Reilly goes on to write about the simplicity of the small house, particularly in comparison to the much larger, elaborate houses and property developments around her. She returns, though, to that final statement…feed your own peace.

More and more I find myself expressing openly and without apology my thoughts and opinions in various venues. As a girl and a younger woman I allowed myself the freedom of such openness only when and where I felt it was safe. Those who have known me well for any length of time always have seen what a boat-rocker I can be, how I am a catalyst and not an inert, filler ingredient in the mix of life. Now I have little concern whether others agree or disagree. If the time is appropriate and the place is ready, I speak or write my truth. However, it is MY truth and not something I believe needs to be truth for anyone else.

Recently a very dear friend, Ann, sent me a link to an article about Christian Gnosticism, one I found extremely interesting and somewhat resonate in spots. As I read the entire treatise, though, I found myself doing what I do so frequently. When the continuing flow of words began to lose its energy for me, I found myself thinking how the ideas were all fine but I had enough of them. Sometimes I wonder if various thinkers and writers realize their presentations lose power when they expand to the detailed point where the reader’s ability to draw conclusions and reach individual opinions and understandings is drowned out by the flow of commentary. This is not to say the writings are without value. For me, usually less said is best said.

Many years ago I experienced the gift of illumination with life-changing results. While there is much more I could say about that experience, it is not particularly germane. However, what is pertinent from the experience is how it began to teach me to trust my intuitive knowing and understanding. I have lived long enough now and read/listened to enough ideas, thoughts, considerations and opinions to have discovered how much variety and richness there is in philosophical and/or spiritual thinking. I also have learned enough to realize I now seem to be at a place where it takes very little new input to remind me of what I have already learned, observed or thought myself and to bring all of it together in creative, new ways. Somewhere within each of us is that ability to know, to understand, to realize the truth as it applies to our particular situations. What is my truth, though, is just exactly that. Your truth will have a slightly different hue and a somewhat different emphasis. Yet it still will be true.

My test for value and veracity hinges on the effect of my truth. Does what I believe is my truth add to who I am? Does it help me to grow and to be come more fully realized? Do I feel a sense of rightness and resonance or do I squirm with discomfort? (That opens a whole list of other questions about why I might be squirming. Such times make my truth either a big mistake and not true at all, or a huge challenge to grow and expand my views.) Does it cause harm? I am responsible for how I express myself, what I say and what I do. While I cannot be responsible for the choices of another person, I know my freedom and responsibility are intertwined with the freedom and responsibility of each other person. The balance of how we each work with that intertwining is the challenge of respecting and honoring each other and the truths by which we choose to live.

On a day when the United States celebrates its independence I celebrate balance and the process of finding it, for balance is process and not destination. Independence is a good thing until it overshadows interconnectedness and interdependence and creates imbalance. Finding one’s truth and becoming peace within one’s spirit are individual processes, but such process is not independent or exclusive of relationship and balance. Today, as true for every day, I shall continue to feed my own peace and to honor my neighbors and their efforts to find the same place along their own path.

2007-06-15T11:04:00.000-07:00

Servant Heart

"A generous heart, kind speech, and a life of service and compassion are the things which renew humanity."

Recently l came across the above quote from Buddha and added it to my Zaadz profile. I also used it in a posting to a conversation on Global MindShift in which I have been participating. Responses, if any, have been interesting. Most will react positively to three of the four qualities. Almost everyone ignores the same one - a life of service. This revealing and deliberate blindness gives me much food for thought and not for the first time.

Several years ago I began to give significant thought to career and other leadership questions. Did I want to pursue a continuing path up the corporate administrative ladder? Did I want to continue to allow myself to be placed in positions of leadership in various organizations? What price would I expect to pay if I chose positions of visible leadership? What would be the cost if I chose not to be as visible? Why did I think I might want more leadership responsibility or not? The fact I would even take the time to think about and carefully examine such considerations probably makes some raise their eyebrows. The fact I might think there is a cost to being a recognized leader would certainly get some reactions and even arguments. Did that matter?

In my early 40's the idea of corporate promotion and increased leadership responsibility was attractive, even very desirable. Twenty years ago and even today women leaders are a minority of the corporate population. When I was part of the Gas Accounting staff at Exxon (before the Exxon-Mobil merger), women could expect no higher position than unit manager. I have not made any effort to keep informed about whether or not that has changed, nor do I care particularly. At that time Exxon was one of the largest corporations on the planet, so such a low level of management possibility did not make the company particularly attractive to an independent-thinking, strong woman. In fact, I left Exxon in 1987 out of total boredom. My next position in a major corporation grew into one of contract administration for an ophthalmic pharmaceutical subsidiary of Johnson & Johnson, since split and sold to competitors. Women fared somewhat better and I probably would have stayed and continued to gather respect and responsibility, had there been corresponding opportunity. It was the loss of that position due to the sale of the subsidiary that made me begin the serious questioning.

From my teens I have been a leader in other ways. Accepting responsibility and performing associated duties to maintain such responsibility came naturally. I have a creative, active mind, as well as significant personal strength and energy. For many years I also had the need to be recognized and accepted to fill the yawning hole created by feelings of not being acceptable, not good enough, not many things I thought mattered. As much as anyone else who walks this earth, my strengths grew from my fears and weaknesses. I learned to use the strength to conceal the weakness, to protect my fearful spirit. Eventually, over time and with experience I learned I truly am strong and I lost much of the fear. It tries to reassert its black power once in a while still, but it has lost the larger part of its old energy.

So I often wonder what it is about living a life of service, developing a servant heart, that causes such rejection, crossed eyes and the desire to flee into anywhere else in so many people. Probably one of the first and largest issues is the lack of understanding of what a servant heart is. To be of service is not to be subservient, no more than it means being overbearing. Most people placed on pedestals as heroes in the Western world are anything but servants to or for others. Most who want power will use it to coerce, to control, to direct and manage everything in their paths to further their own interests and satisfy their own desires. Yet they and most other people stumbling along in life do not understand what true power is.

Power in its purest and most desirable form is compassion, unconditional love. This is the heart of the one who would live as a servant. Mature, unconditional love is not blind, is not sentimental or slavish. One who learns such love, such incredible compassionate living, usually sees very clearly the reality of who others are, accepts them and continues to love without judgment or, even when appropriate, agreement with everything others say and do. The servant heart is one that loves and supports for the other's highest good without placing one's own expectations or conditions on another. The servant heart is one whose spirit is free and who chooses to give appropriately, to withhold giving when it serves a higher purpose, to be present in silence or to share a song in the night.

Did I choose to pursue management positions and corporate growth? Do I place myself in positions of leadership in other organizations any longer? The answer to both is no. At this point in my life the question of career positions no longer interests me. I work in a support role for a major financial institution in the mortgage banking field, contributing through my position to the success of one of the company's premier sales executives. What is the price? I leave the job in my desk drawer at 5:00 p.m. every weekday. I have time to read, to enjoy the music that enriches my life, to pursue other interests, to sleep in peace. If anyone thinks I have something to offer in the way of ideas, creativity or other support functions, whether in my professional or personal life, I am glad to give as is appropriate. I would rather not sign my name. It no longer matters. To support for mutual gain, to bring joy, a moment of peaceful presence to make another's day a little easier...this is what matters to me.

The truly servant heart is a peaceful, joyful heart.

2007-06-03T22:35:00.000-07:00

Another change: I've been blogging on my page on Zaadz.com but decided it was time to be consistent and blog most of the time where I started blogging in the first place. Maybe I'll even get around to updating my website, too, this summer.

Since mid-January I have come to a different place than I have been, at least with any consistency. When Aunt Ruth was so ill over the Christmas and New Year holidays, then in a rehabilitation hospital for several weeks, I finally had to face some difficult ideas and deal with them more effectively. She is 85 years old and barely can walk any longer, thanks to a number of factors. Bless her heart, she still uses that wheeled walker I bought her and manages to get from her room to the dining room at the assisted living home where she is, although any other jaunt means using her wheelchair.

I remain completely disgusted with the lack of concern Kaiser shows towards elderly and other dependent patients. They provide only the minimum care and in as inexpensive a facility as they can find for the hospital or skilled nursing needs of their members. Then there is the subject of skilled nursing homes. Some of the staff can be truly caring and thoughtful. Most are there to do a job and don't spend much energy showing care, concern and deep respect for the residents. Aunt Ruth's stay in January is mostly a mental blank to her and probably will remain so. Maybe that is just as well.

The whole point of this subject is what effect it was having on me for a while. When I saw Dr. Morelli in January my blood pressure was up and I had gained back a couple of the hard-acheived weight loss from the second half of 2006. Then I sat myself down and decided I had to make some real choices. I know I cannot change Kaiser or any of the various elderly care staff issues. I cannot make the circumstances of my aunt's remaining years much better outside of how I care for her myself when I am with her. I knew I had to let go of what I could not change, make peace with the situation, and maybe find ways to address those issues when possible.

When I saw the good doctor in April my blood pressure was back down and I had lost a little weight. Since I also have been having a massage with Rosie every other Tuesday evening after work, I know I am in a much better place. Something else seemed to change when I put a stop to anguishing over those things about my aunt, too. Everything changed. It seemed as though learning and actually doing what it took to have a much healthier (physically and spiritually) attitude has changed how I deal with everything.

As time goes along, I will be writing more about where I am now, some of the things that have been happening, some of the people I meet along the way, some of the things I think about. For now, maybe I should check to see if my fox friend has left any cat food on the back porch. If the fox left any after I startled her earlier, the raccoons probably have pigged it all down anyway. At least, the bowls are up on a shelf the cats can jump to (along with foxes and raccoons) but the skunks cannot get there. I need to refill all the hummingbird feeders soon.

2006-07-24T19:40:00.000-07:00

Summer Solstice -

At the summer solstice last month we said good-bye to my friend Bob Elliott. He was a good man, someone worth knowing. Annie, his beautiful wife, three of their children and a couple of grandsons were there, out beside Murray Creek at the labyrinth Bob and Ann created. There were long-time friends, newer friends and one woman who had met Bob in the spirit in the garden of the Elliott house out in the hills as she cared for the flowers and plants he had loved.

In the few years I knew Bob I led him with his drum, Annie in her beautiful light, and other friends through the labyrinth with the music of one of my native American flutes measuring our steps and bringing our spirits together. Today, I played Bob through the labyrinth once more. One long-time friend, Helene, carried and quietly beat Bob's drum. As we gathered in the center to give Bob's ashes to the ground where he had walked for over thirty years, some took a few of his crystals and left them buried beside some of the direction stones around the labyrinth. Others scattered what was left of his physical presence around, through and above the labyrinth built on ancient Miwok land. This lovely, simple place has become a source of healing, both for the old spirits who walked before and for those of us who still walk the earth.

As we gathered under the old oak tree afterwards, we continued to flute and to drum together. I looked across the labyrinth as Louisa, the younger of his and Ann's daughters as she finished dropping his ashes around and under the stones. I saw Bob standing on the opposite side of the labyrinth in front of a manzanita. After no one was left in the labyrinth I looked again, as we continued to drum. It was no surprise to see Bob's spirit dancing with great joy through the place where we had lovingly left his physical presence.

Some of us shared our experiences and thoughts of a man who touched everyone he met with his gentle, wise, often humorous and droll words. We will miss him but one of his last conscious desires was to be able to be present with any of us whenever we bring him to mind. Somehow, Bob, I think you are doing just that. Dance in the sunshine, my brother. You will always have a special place in all our hearts.

Please visit www.murraycreek.net. There you can see this man we love, meet him, his beautiful wife - my good friend - Ann, their family and see the lovely land in the hills of the Mother Lode country where our hearts are at home.

Walk in beauty, my brother.

2005-10-01T07:47:00.000-07:00

Where the Eagle Soars

Every time I look at that picture I think of the beautiful morning out on Lake Tahoe when I took it. It was the day after my birthday, a Saturday I had planned for months. After the unforgettable experience of parasailing over Big Bear Lake in southern Califronia on my birthday ten years earlier, I wanted the hot air balloon experience even more. So it came - and I had a day that will always be a special memory.

Being high above the earth, even in controlled situations, yet freer than in commercial airliners, brings thoughts about freedom of spirit. In the following entries, I'll give some thought to what freedom is, what it gives and what it demands.