Nuwara Eliya - Reflection on Sri lanka

 Miles and miles of hills filled with tea bushes, and an infinite cascade of  waterfalls nestled in every curve of a hill. As the rickety train chugged on toward our final destination, the air cooled, the hills steepened and this is what was there to behold, seemingly endlessly.

At each train station, there was a town. Every town had a Buddhist shrine , a Buddha statue  and many tuk-tuks. Each town was comparatively poor in contrast to the high rise towers in Colombo which was home base for this journey to the other side of the earth. Closer to Colombo, many rice paddies, muddy with new harvest and replanting, lined the tracks - until the hills began to rise on either side.

 The sun shown brightly, while at the same time as we climbed into the hills, another layer of warm clothing was needed. This sunshine proved to be a deceptive beginning to what turned out to be a cloudy and rainy visit. As the sun set each day, mist creeped into every crevice of the old colonial hotel where we stayed. Rain poured down during the night and the wind howled through the garret. The experience was not at all uncomfortable for some reason.

 I had willed that I glean the blessing of each encounter and occasion and kept focus on how everything contributed to my reasons for throwing fear to the wind and venturing into this unknown. I had a dream but no expectations for how it might realize. Relaxing into who I am and letting that be, I  let the rain wash away the past, let the wind carry away my self-consciousness and fear of offending or being disappointed. The howling of the wind were trumpets hailing in the new experiences yet to come.

A tuk tuk ride through the plantations to the waterfalls was breathtaking even through the small windows of the black rain - proof covering on it.  Of all the sites and visits - tea covered hills, cuppa at a plantation, walk through the market and bargaining with the Tamil traders, great food, the workers with bags of tea leaves, roadside stands with coconuts, or monkeys posing,  - the waterfalls definitely hold the miracle of this paradise island.

As long as I can remember, waterfalls have drawn me into their wonder. Diving off a rocky cliff, plunging into the continuing stream or river below after resting in a gently churning pool created by years of water falling into it spontaneously, and with wild abandon. The water is never the same. There is only one dive per drop of water. Endless cascading fearlessly. Each time, and this time, I connected its energy in my heart center and felt deeply, the ever-changing me, as well.

Whatever the weather wanted to be, it had the freedom to be. Whatever difficulties I might have been having personally, they all had the freedom to also be.

 I will remember one waterfalls where I meditated for a short but meaningful period. The falls was split in two sections. One appeared to be floating into the air, gracefully floating on the wind's direction, letting it lead the dive into the rapids below. The other section seemed to be more of the steady and full bodied head first plunge - a high energy and bombastic splash all the way down.  I call this falls yin-yang and hold it in my heart as the essence of my new friendship with this small place on earth.

Oh my, breathe in with joy the promise held in the environment. Its beauty sustains the dance of life, supports change, nurtures growth. Dare we not face the challenges to change that which is destroying this earth today? 

What has been your experience of being in the presence of a waterfalls?

A Friend is Dying

Lake's edge at Eagle Rock

My friend Linda is in a place in her life where she is reminded 24/7 that death is going to happen.

We all know that we are going to die someday. Some have experienced near death experiences which led to new decisions. Some are old enough to feel that death is much closer than farther from becoming a reality. Most of us accept it or fear it and do what we can to prolong its arrival.

Linda has an inoperable brain tumor and esophageal cancer. She has no insurance and lives in a state which has no sympathy for those without insurance.  She's not old enough for medicare, but does have social security and a pension which is taken up totally by the nursing care she is receiving to keep her comfortable.

Her body is wasting away. Her right arm no longer works, and she has difficulty getting the words out.  I suspect that her mind is still sharp and that physically she still has a lot of deteriorating to do. That's not a kind thought, but the brain tumor is the real inevitability.

When I talk to her, she cries because she has to wait to go into the light. She is about convinced that it is never going to happen and would rather be healthy again. I want to help her to say good-bye to this world and let go.

yesterday, we did a tarot reading. She asked what it will take for her to go into the light.  The four  tarot cards provided dialogue for her to mirror the answer from within her Soul: the issue (reversed knight of wands), the contributing conditions of the past (reversed moon), contributing contributions of the future (the star) and the final answer (the Magus).

She became aware of her own fear, denial, and resistance of the inevitability of transition, of the need to focus on the gift she has been to this incarnation and how she has always been able to do what she set out to do; to let go of the wounding she has suffered and inflicted;  of her own need to control and now the need to go with the flow; and to imagine the other side and feel it welcoming her home.

I gave her a Deeksha blessing and prayed into it a feeling of the peace that passes all understanding.

Her time to go is near. I intuit this to be true. I can help her to let go, but she will finally walk into the light by herself when she is ready.

Am I feeling helpless in my inability to heal her as she would prefer or empowered by the light of the Divine to let life Be as it is?

Forgiveness First Not Last

Working on self-work and/or Self-work face-to-face seemed an impossible adventure.

Yet, there I was face-to-face with the life's experience I had come to let go of once and for all.

It did not happen automatically by a conversation or two to get the facts straight and accept that which came to pass as whole and perfect just as it happened. Between the two of us, we did piece together an adequate scenario of the course of events which included that which motivated each of us to make the decisions we did.

By this dialogue, forgiveness began its Soulful journey to the heart of the matter - actually BEING in the moment, present in the joy and privilege of sharing the same air with each other right now where we are.

Moving into the time/space experience of here and now was painful. It required letting go of other attachments of the past, breaking out of the prison of those experiences already done and gone, never to be repeated.

 I suppose it is possible to waste away in that prison of memories, content with all that has come to pass, grieving without ceasing.  However, there is more to come, if fear can be set aside for the next grand adventure - or even something very simple, as a new and loving friendship.

Trusting that no harm will come from enjoying the present moment's course of events became a psychic dance - into the past, into the present, speculating the future, into the past, into the present..............

I felt us both relax, slowly but surely.  I felt joy, ecstasy, peace, and bliss, just being together. This was not a romantic experience at all. This was the forgiveness at the heart of the matter.

For a brief moment in time in the here and now, we connected as two people who can appreciate and be grateful for our common history and for each other's presence in our lives, no prisons to hide in, no unfinished business, no expectations.

the difference now is that we have shared the present moment, however briefly,  at the same time and have been blessed with its gift.  Separately yes, but changed by the ONENESS of it all that is.

The forgiveness which happened between us was not a mental decision. It was and continues to be  a decision to release from deep within our hearts, that which is restraining, and then entering life's dance floor  once again, in grand anticipation.

The Heart of the Matter, Don Henley and the Eagles
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ncF6q3QeltU

Why is forgiveness at the heart of the matter so important to being fully alive?

Journeying into the Fifth Dimension

I am being hurled into the 5th Dimension to stay there indefinitely.

There's the Third Dimension, a physical reality - which is real enough. We do live in a material time and space reality most of the time.

There's the Fourth Dimension - a magical reality of the emotional body - real enough, as well. It's the stuff of which dreams are made - a place of unexplained healing - of unconditional love and forgiveness.

Then there's the Fifth Dimension - a miraculous non-time, non-space, BEING PRESENT to the wonder of it all, grateful for each moment reality. It is the experience of creating one's own reality. Until recent times, this has been the conscious experience of a chosen few.

I am, as perhaps are you, am not unfamiliar with this Fifth Dimension. I have experienced my fair share of miracles. I have experienced moments of Oneness with all that is, was, and is yet to be. I am not convinced, however, that I experienced this in the fullness of its intended purpose.

The Fifth Dimension is a unitive consciousness.

Recently, I attended a weekend retreat where I learned to give Deeksha blessings. In this retreat I also journeyed into a a great "aha'. For years I had been yearning for a reunion with the Divine in a most personal way - that experience of "Oneness of All creation, wholly engulfed...." (who wrote that poetry?).

This weekend's experience literally drove me to take a journey where I could BE One with All as a life style - of the mystical dance.

And so the journey begins.

I experienced the human suffering, abolished it within, and was among a grand movement of the Spirit through the 60's, 70's and into the 80's. Much love was poured into thousands of local communities and a few important policy makers stood up and paid attention.  This grand strategy fizzled out. What is left is demonstrations of possibility where there was no hope at all. This, I would suggest, has been a dance of Third and Fourth Dimensional. The model community was called 5th City.

Many efforts have been made to continue and rebuild that momentum of taking 5th City to the world, but this new Fifth Dimension conscious has arrived, beckoning exploration, welcoming its experience.

So, while I will pilgrimage to a land where the Fifth Dimension is alive and well, I am beginning the dance here and  now.

Care to come along? Shall we dance?

The Motivation Source

Welcome Banner at the AAP Conference

In order to follow through on creating a conference, let alone anything else time and energy consuming, there has to be a motivating purpose.

In the case of Psychosynthesis: At the Heart of Systems Transformation, this came  from the Divine Source of guidance on one's life path.  The Divine came to me in a personified form, a woman who had been a friend, a colleague, a guide in my own psychosynthesis training, and a role model to me.

Her name is Martha Crampton, one of the original pioneers in bringing psychosynthesis to North America. She moved on to a non-physical realm in 2009, but her Soul still had some unfinished business - to assure that life coaching and psychosynthesis would become dance partners.

This is how it happened.

The pioneer of transpersonal life coaching in North America trained Martha. In the course of their relationship they created a psychosynthesis life coaching training which never got saved for future editing and presentation. Pat Williams related to me that Martha was committed to life coaching being introduced to the psychosynthesis community for various compatible correlations between the two. He added that empowering the will of a client  to act on a life purpose was a difficult part of the healing process and that  his life coaching approach was a valuable addition.

Didi  was creating a transformational coaching course about the same time that Pat and I were having these conversations. She offered research reports that had been done and pointed out that life coaching was gaining popularity in the the world of healing arts.

A North American conference was coming up.Messages from Martha in meditations indicated that the conference would be a perfect dance floor for introducing life coaching to psychosynthesis practitioners and psychosynthesis to life coaching practitioners.

Pat was asked, and he accepted to present the opening keynote at the conference. Didi was asked and accepted to present psychosynthesis transformational coaching at the closing of the conference.

A concerted effort was made to reach out to life coaches, especially in the area near where the conference would be.  Thousands of coaches were contacted. None came forward. I have to confess that to do this was not communicated by Martha in my meditation time where I received her guidance.

There was a good deal of controversy around this strategy which soon subsided as psychosynthesists resigned to the direction we were going, perhaps beginning to understand why. I never mentioned, until the last few weeks, that I was receiving guidance from Martha in my meditations focused on the conference.

I found two photos I took many years ago, of Martha. I put them together in one frame. One showed her with her most beautiful and radiant smile that communicated loving acceptance to the receiver. The other was a side view where her strong will was a constant reminder that the direction of this conference was correct.

The conference proceeded as was intended and was a total success.  I have only heard one person remark that she has not bought into coaching still - but that is fine - the plan was not to produce buy-ins, it was to affirm the coaching dynamic in psychosynthesis already present and to clear the transpersonal dance floor for psychosynthesis and life coaching to strut their stuff in high style.

 Done.

Yes, the Divine can be called God and Martha could as easily have been a face of Jesus. I, however, am who I am and have  learned to pay attention to the still small voice resounding from my heart, which comes in a vast reservoir full of metaphors and images, appropriate for the moment.

Who is a personification of the Divine for you - other than the traditional divinities of your religion - who in essence guide you through the impossible?

A Conference of Note

David and Kevin practicing in a corner of the room before plenary session

During the week of the summer solstice, I was imersed in coordinating a conference for the Association for the Advancement of Psychosynthesis (AAP) (www.aap-psychosynthesis.org). This conference had been in the making for two years and involved many people doing many tasks to prepare for what we were intending to be a new beginning for AAP, to open up to another discipline - in this case making a concerted effort to attract life coaches interested in a transpersonal approach to their practice, to welcome the new pscyosynthesis coaching course,  to introduce new people to psychosynthesis, and be a gathering of long time colleagues to "catch up" personally and have a lot of fun as well.

The conference was held on an eco-friendly campus in Burlington, VT, known as a  place of  environmentally friendly innovations. The cafeteria, served by an organic whole foods distributor, provided meals for the many different diets folks are committed to these days.

 The 28 workshops and the four pre-conferences, were all masterful presentations by those new to AAP and long time trainers, as well. The three plenary sessions introduced life coaching by the man who pioneered the approach in North America, presented the complexity of systems which exist when attempting to unify a community, and ended with an introduction to the principles of psychosynthesis coaching by the first  graduating class.

The preparation team went out of their way to create an intentional space. Initially disappointed that there would not be a logo to hang, we were surprised to see one displayed boldly in the three storied window space of the atrium - place of registration and the bookstore. Following a discussion, another appeared for the plenary room (for a small fee). A flute player volunteered to provide impromptu music at the beginning of each plenary session. He soon had a combo, including bongo drums, a guitar, and singers. By the all out efforts to create an intentional sacred space, this campus was very definitely the site of a grand conference.

Also woven into the fabric of this community event, were co-creative dialogue groups. Seven groups formed, semi-organically. The leaders of the groups agreed before hand and Friday evening when the conference broke into these groups, participants joined in where they felt drawn. Seven reports on Sunday, revealed that an abundance of creative dialogue had occurred in their meetings, some with next steps planned.

To have the conference coordinator be the same person as the co-chair of AAP, was unusual and seemingly impossible.  However, in the beginning of the planning, there was not much interest in a conference, so three of us, overworked already, took it on. The world conference in Italy the year before had been a huge success with over 500 (unheard of) attending and some felt was a demonstration of a supreme synthesis that Roberto Assagioli, father of psychosynthesis, had introduced. This left a sense among most that this conference would last forever!!  The year before that, the AAP conference planning fizzled out half way through the preparation. In 2010, there was a huge blow up in a workshop on the role of esoterism in psychosynthesis that marked that conference's fame.

So, there I was. Momentum built slowly but surely. Soon enough, there was a theme, a place, a logo, and a team in place. Even with the team, I was working ten hours a day for months - meditating and relaxing as I went. Nevertheless, when I went in for a relatively simple heart procedure, I ended up in ICU for five days and flat on my back for another ten days. this was a reminder to me that working as a team is  a critical element of such an event. Even before I was back on my feet, I was making a concerted effort to have that be our  modus operandi.

Because I was the contact person for solving all the little problems that come up in the course of an event happening, I was not feeling the success that was unfolding even with input from so many. One very wise long time colleague asked me if I was feeling this. This question was an opportunity to take some time to reflect and to "smell the roses" (an appropriate idiom of experiencing the beauty of it all in the midst of all the activity going on).

What a feeling!! I reveled in rejoicing that I did it! I manifest a practical vision that I had held in my heart. People were excited, community was renewed, old wounds were healed, new life was in the making. I sure hope the others who poured so much love into the making of this conference are experiencing the same feeling of success.  It was an amazingly complex event, filled with wonder, filling heart space, being transformed.

Asked to say what I felt was the highlight - the part which holds the whole in one image - of the conference, I have to say it was just before the final plenary. The flute player, was playing "Summertime" (and the livin' is easy...) and those already in the room broke out in song.

The great learning was that the way to interest new people is to introduce them through local networking introductory events (we did not draw life coaches who were strangers to psychosynthesis - this time anyway!!)

Can it get any better? When has this great "Yes" that is available to us all, been a  candle lit in the darkness of drowning in the minutia of implementation?

50+1

Recently, the Whitesboro Central School Class of 1962 had a follow up picnic to our 50th reunion last year. The planning team worked diligently and thoroughly arranged for a perfect day.

I have a feeling that they might be a bit disappointed by the turnout. The weather in the region - in truth up the whole of the east coast - was heavy rain and intermittent sun for days. Flash flood warnings loomed, and places through the Mohawk Valley experienced heavy flooding. Certainly, some folks, who might otherwise have been there, had to repair damages to their own homes.

nevertheless, those of us who found our way to the picnic were not disappointed and certainly did not wish they were somewhere else that afternoon. There was plenty of opportunity to actually talk to each other and to share stories and laugh out loud with full heartfelt joy.

Some highlights - and I am sure I have not mentioned everything:
Gourmet BBQ by Peter included Italian sausage -a "usual" in that neck of the woods - along with the burgers, clams, shishkebob, and smokey aromas...his retirement hobby - a roadside ribs and chicken takeout and, of course the tale of his first sexual encounter (turned out to be a really cool joke instead of "tmi')...Bernie in his classic convertible and touring hat and lovely wife at his side...Ed and Paulette smiling without ceasing...Karen has six granddaughters and the whole family rents a cabin at Diane's Big Moose every year, Connie and Richard's gratitude for support after hurricane Sandy's onslaught, Mike's lymphoma and pending stem cell infusion - especially his confidence that he will be well soon...reflection with Mike and Barbara on feeling like outsiders in high school...Roger's humor and welcoming energy. He told jokes he told to his classes - a new one every day - which were funny then and culturally inappropriate today - but we laughed from a "then" perspective", sometimes remembering the jokes from way back then. (missed Linda who had broken a tooth)...queries from two fine gentlemen who I shall not name, who were well buzzed and who were wanting some answers about who put out in high school, my response being that probably no one did, if the truth be revealed, and I sure never ran into any guys who really did!!!. No satisfaction there, they then questioned the validity of the whiteness of my teeth...a kiss on the forehead from Tom who lives in Liverpool with his very friendly and beautiful wife...Tim got married for the first time when he was 49 and was looking forward to Nick visiting him in Old Forge soon (later was talking to him on the cell phone announcing to us that this was happening)...Bill, who has aged like a fine wine, is a strikingly handsome widower now, although he was always adorable with those special ears and freckles. His son encourages him to go to Florida to find a rich widow to play golf with...Ellen and I were in the same church youth group. She was very active, but I only went when my mother made me...Carol had to leave to have dinner with her daughter...Terry and Stan have a miniature dog which rules them...Ethel - now Marie - reminded us she lived across the street from the school, that her mother ran an ice cream shop and told about the year she offered pie and ice cream to the winning football team (who that season were unbeatable)...

Tables full of food, a mural of those who have gone on, a map with push pins of where everyone  lived back then, the steamy BBQ pit, the tables full of smiles and laughter, sand pails of flowers made of photos from last year's picnic, Bernie's winning the 50-50 raffle, and pending down pours to over saturate the grassy picnic area, all made for a memorable day.

When Mike told me I am the official class earth mother, I found myself reflecting on how different the experience of this picnic and last years reunion have been from my memories of high school. This day was an opportunity to be rooted in deep and nurturing earth of the collective, yet separate internal experiences, of a phenomena called the WCS Class of '62. How privileged we are to have been able to reclaim this sense of community with such a strongly bonded common heart.

A huge realization, that I also belong: I was taking portrait photos of everyone, was finished, when someone offered to take one of me, too. It came, at the time, as a surprise. Karen asked me why I was taking them, and I said, "For ricky dick," which literally translated means, "Because I have a camera," but they were really for me to be able to see the details of delighted faces later on. (They are on the WCS Class of '62 facebook page)  

Accolades of applause to the planning committee who felt drawn to the value of these events, enough to take the time during the year to meet and create a sense of belonging for each and everyone, whether in attendance or not able to be.

I have talked to others and have heard from them, similar experiences of reuniting and forming a new sense of family like community.  What has been your experience of a new community molded from old bonds?

Willing LIfe

African violets - grown from single leaves -  fragile - patiently awaiting new blooms

Recently, I went to the hospital for a simple outpatient procedure which resulted in a touch-and-go life altering week-long stay to stabilize my systems which had been disrupted by an unexpected complication. When I returned home, except for necessary occasions, I remained on my back for two weeks. Now, I am supposed to take it easy until further notice, paying attention to refraining from stressing out physically.

Except for a worn out heart, I am really healthy and maintain a healthy life style. So, this inconvenient turn of expectations was a huge surprise - stopped the world, so to speak!

For five days, I laid prone in the hospital, regularly monitored with adjustments to facilitate balance and healing. Systems began to shut down - oxygen absorption, fluid retention, etc. 

I fell asleep wondering if my time had come and was grateful that I had no unfinished business with all affairs in order and that I was relatively without physical pain. After all, one does die alone, so being alone was fine.

About 3:00 a.m - it must have been a a dream - I awoke to brilliant welcoming light which filled my whole being. I experienced a lightness and effortless movement within.  I watched many hands gently touching me, sending healing energy into  my body filled with this brilliant light.

 I just laid there and let it happen for the longest time.  Then I fell back to sleep,  guessing it must have been the loritab.

On the sixth day, all systems began working fully. I was disconnected from drips, oxygen, and other attachments and was able to eat a real meal.  

On the seventh day, as the doctors came around, they each marveled at the recovery and signed releases  for me to go home.

I will definitely be taking it easy,  allowing ample time and space for a full healing, anticipating trekking to Vermont for a solstice time conference which I have spent two years making happen. Why this happened when I have been having so much fun is beyond my ability to comprehend.

Nevertheless, it happened and there are lessons I have learned by it. I have had a lot of time to reflect on what I really love and have some new images of how I will be proceeding toward fully doing and being what I love, too.

I am willing myself into physical health with the assistance of powerful metaphors, friends who understand this way of living life, and with dreams filled with blissful - yes blissful is the word - anticipation.

I am also willing my behavior patterns toward how I blissfully engage the rest of this one life I have to live and give.  

Is this not what it is all about? At the beginning of each life phase we will what we will be at the time, supported by the purpose for pouring energy into making it happen.  At this end of a life's time, sometimes it takes such events as I have experienced and sometimes it just happens. As long as it happens and this phase of life is given the respect it is due for the potential of loving and being grateful for every precious day we have been given, even with the huge limitations some have - no, that all have - to acknowledge and embrace. 

How about you?  What are you willing for your life? What are your wild anticipations? 

Loving What We Are Doing

The kumquat tree produces a new harvest every year it lives.

My friend, Linda is having the time of her life. I do envy her this, while at the same time she is such an inspiration for doing what you love at this end our our lives.

Let me tell you about Linda.

She is a master chef, having learned from her mother, Rita, and studying with Julia Childs.

She had her own catering business and still caters for special occasions.

She had a shop in the town center mall for awhile. One story she told me about this was that she made gingerbread cookies for her customers during the winter holidays. Hilary Clinton was passing through on a campaign trip and Linda made one cookie for Bill and one for Hilary. Hilary graciously received the cookies and then bit the head off the cookie for Bill.

Linda has worked in varied management positions in food service for retirement homes. In her most recent job, it was her great cooking that brought in many new residents. The management treated her badly, not responding to her need for more help and less hours, so she left. I admire people who will not settle for such oppression. Linda's sense of justice will not allow her to do that.

Speaking of her sense of justice, Linda also has taken on the city council and a public parking policy which makes her neighborhood's streets a parking lot. She intends to bribe them, in keeping with government agency under the table ways of doing things. At their next meeting where the issue will be addressed, Linda intends to take a home made apple pie to them, complete with a large knife to plunge into it to slice it (all right that knife part of it was my idea - one I got from a movie).

Today, Linda is teaching adult cooking classes around Keene, having the time of her life.

 She had been pondering this possibility for several years. At one point she thought about doing it out of her own home, but the regulations for such an endeavor squelched that desire.

Seemingly out of nowhere, the opportunity came knocking at her door, to teach cooking.  So, since  this is what she does best and loves to do, this is what she is doing.

She and I are at the other end of our lives.

Along with many others our age we are tired of having jobs, but not ready to sit in a rocker, watching TV all day, and wasting away to oblivion.

We have the opportunity to be doing what we love. When we are clear about what we love and how we see ourselves doing it, it knocks on the door, calls us on the phone, or sends us an email. All we have to do is say yes.

We can also change history with what we do best. Just ask Linda!!

What is it you love to do?  What's your modus operandi for doing what you love?  

Telling my Adoption Story on Stage

Recently, I attended a weekend conference called Building Creative Communities. It took place in a small community which has become a very successful demonstration of local people investing their lives in making their home a thriving place to live. The annual three-day conference is a sharing of what it takes.

Storytelling from the hearts of local lore, transformed into a community theater presentation,  has been the key to success in Colquitt, GA. One of the two days of workshops was the creation of a story telling presentation which was then presented in the evening. Everyone had great stories, only a few were chosen.  Our day's workshop creation was to tell stories about losing our power and/or gaining our power.

One of my stories was chosen. I have written about this story at length, but never considered the possibility of telling it on stage.  While the idea was to have others tell the author's story, no one felt they could tell my story as well as I could. So, I resigned myself, reluctantly, to narrate my story while others acted it out. This is what I said on stage:

Fifty years ago, when I was 19, I gave up my daughter to adoption. I did this against my will. It is what you did those days when daddy didn't have a shot gun. So, I did what was expected. I closed the door,  stuffed it down, sucked it up and went on to live a powerless life.

45 years later, the first item on my retirement bucket list was to find my daughter and reunite with her. I had tried fruitlessly in earlier years.  This time I searched the Internet. She was also searching for me. After locating her on a registry and completing some permission paperwork. it was done.

I came home one day, opened my email and saw a message which read, "Regarding our Relationship". It was from my daughter. As I read it, I got goose bumps and became breathless with disbelief. She wanted to know all about me and told me a lot about herself. While I was replying, the phone range. I answered and the voice at the other end said, "This is your daughter. I couldn't wait. I hope you want to know me." 

 We talked excitedly and before hanging up we arranged to meet the following week. 

I boarded a plane Monday. We met on a beach on Wednesday, running into an embrace as soon as we spotted each other. I'm sure I said, "Welcome home baby girl!"

In this moment, I felt that this was all I was waiting for all of my life ever since the day we parted. 

This was my dream come true.

In the following months, we talked and emailed back and forth, getting to know each other a little better each time.This reunion was positive and - All Is Well.

Eventually, I was able to connect with her father, who was fairly easy to fine on the web and all of us got to know each other a bit on facebook and email.

A year ago, we both met her father. It was also a very positive week as we all shared our experiences and noticed who resembled who and why. As we went our separate ways, we promised  to stay in touch. Again - All Is Well.

As a p.s., I have to tell you this.

(1) My daughter and I are beginning a loving friendship which slowly is growing as a strong bond.

(2) I also carried, however subdued, a yearning for the three of us all these years.There before my eyes during that week, I experienced the image I was holding for so long, of that young handsome dude and his sexy chick, dissolve away into nothing. What was there, in reality, was a now powerful old broad, a beautiful lovely and precious daughter, and a -yes, still handsome and debonair - old fart!  All Is Well.

Myself and the lovely woman who played my daughter today

Now, I have to tell you, dear reader, that this is the truth. There is no embellishment in this story. In fact, I would have loved to deliver it with all the passion I feel. Instead, I delivered it much like a news report on the TV.  But, those who acted it out - right  out there in front of me, did so with such passion, I was taken back at seeing my own inner self so well expressed.

I felt a deepening of my experience of our reunion, a connection with the deepest part of  my heart, a release of final grief, a celebration of the people we are today. We are a family who is just beginning to become acquainted. We are friends for life. All Is Well.

Some reflections never seem to end. They just get deeper and deeper. Has this been your experience, too?

Willing a New Year

Holding my precious Granddaughter, Madison's hand in mine on the day we met.

There's an old wives tale that avers that what you are doing on New Year's Day is the way the year goes. The interpretation always has to be positive.
This was not so easy for me, determined to write this year, I set out to write, but then life happened as it has a tendency to do while  attempting to control what is happening.

This is how the day went down.

First, I had purchased tickets for Credence Clearwater Revival at an exorbitant price, but worth it because they were in the 7th row orchestra in the middle section. Doesn't get much better! The tickets that arrived were in the last orchestra, under the balcony. Might as well watch it on TV at that distance. So, I called and the ticket agent agreed to refund all my money.  On New Year's Day, there was an email from paypal reporting a very partial refund. So, I called and waited forever and finally they agreed to refund it all, as originally agreed the day before.  So, no Credence Clearwater this year! Does this mean no reveries into the past when the dancing time was really hot?

With the resolve to partner with the sun in its rising each day while taking a walk, I set out to begin that daily ritual. I got some beautiful snaps of the sunrise on the lake and the walk was invigorating. Well, I downloaded all the pix I had taken during the holidays and told the program to erase them when done. I had forgotten to check these pix of the sunrise, so they didn't download and did erase.  Was this the way the year was going to unfold?  Everything I do gets erased?

I have a tendency to avoid the writing I want to do by finding something" really important" to finish first. So, suddenly as I sat down to write, I just had to finish the conference brochure I was working on with a certain sense of its not being quite right. I wanted to print it out to check the margins, but the printer decided that it had a paper jam, which it didn't at all.  Six days later, it it is working. There was a spring in the way which was part of a piece that broke - on New Year's Day - when I changed the ink. Is the year going to be full of rocks in the road?

By then, it was time to go to the river for lunch around the yule log's end.  One son who had come to Florida for the holidays, followed us on his motorcycle, but the other wanted to have some alone time to mellow out before heading north again.  The yule log had burned out the night before, so the fire, however delightful, was just chopped wood. Was I going to get there after the best had past -  all year.

My son, who I have had very little quality time for many years past, hung out with me all day and into the night. In fact, he fell asleep on the couch during the football game and didn't wake up until next morning.  What a lovely day. What a precious moment in time. We talked and shared and got caught up in a loving connection. What a perfect way to spend New Years Day - with family - just hanging together. Was this setting the tone for the new year ahead?

I did get a little writing in. Some of it was "work" related. I did have a conversation with a colleague - business and heart-sharing. I did connect with my other sons. I did connect but didn't get to talk with my daughter. I did put away all the holiday decorations. I did  take the most welcome side dish (a jalapeno cheese sauce for the gator tail)  to the picnic on the river. I did get the oranges squeezed and enjoy the mimosa. I did so much that I had not planned on doing on New Year's Day. Will the whole year proceed this way?

As I reflect on how this year will unfold, considering that the old wives tale is correct,
I will not have to dip into yore to search for happiness.
I will not have to live the wonder and the rare moments as a reflection in photo form.
I will not have to get anxious about deadlines.

I will to go with the flow and experience the bliss in the moment.
I will to dance to life here and now.
I will to hold memories in my heart and relish them as they are being created.
I will to receive each experience as precious gift.
I will to be open to possibilities for creating a planet that that has healthy sustainable systems - in my own life, and through the work I do in the world.

p.s. And if I could only hope that includes getting some good writing in!!!

Share your experience of precious life happening in the middle of your best intentions and  insights gleaned as a result.

2012: A Year of Ongoing Anticipation

2012 A Year of Ongoing Anticipation

As I composed this and searched for photos, I realized that this has been an exceptionally full year and that what follows here, are but highlights. It is different than last year which was very much completing a cycle and planting some seeds which may grow and may not. This year, everything began with the beginning and moved into form - even the high school reunion, back to yore that it was -was very much this kind of experience for me. 

January through March were consumed with finding a place, deciding on a theme, logo and keynote speakers for the 2013 AAP conference. Many places were contacted, many discussions held to meet the April 1^st timeline anticipated completion.

 I traveled to Tampa area to meet with my AAP colleague and friend Shamai. While there, I also attended a 50^th year anniversary afternoon gathering of the Institute of Cultural Affairs. I stayed overnight with my nephew Lee and his wife Sarah who were anticipating the birth and their adopting of their first child, Joshua.

Moi and Madison

Jean Guenther and her husband, Bob Stuhlman, on a road trip around Florida, stopped by on their way home to Vermont for an overnight at my home in Crescent City.  Earlier, on their trip down to Floria, I met them in St. Augustine for breakfast on the beach, as the waves lapped on the stone fortress and the sand.

Labyrinth at Jean and Bob's

A week long trip in April to Jean and Bob’s to visit Champlain College, resulted in choosing this venue for the 2013 AAP conference. Burlington and  Lake Champlain is so filled with peaceful energy, being there was a rare gift.  Of course, wakling the labyrinth that Bob had mowed from the grass in the yard, and the opportunity to sit on the bench and meditate for long periods, and the royal hosting of this presence of  the Love Light of Bob and Jean were as healing as the peaceful energy from the lake. While there, I also went to the Psychosynthesis Center’s Presenter’s Conference in Amherst and and did an AAP presentation in 3 minutes.

Chris and Madison when she was born

On May 16, 2012, at 1:42 pm granddaughter, Madison Elizabeth White was born into the family of Stephanie, Randy, and Chris. The anticipation of her arrival was such a joy to be able to experience in my life's time. Birthstone: diamond – now I know who gets all my diamonds!!! (Yes, sometimes I could wish that I'm dripping in diamonds.)

Roberto Assagioli at a young age

In June,  I was consumed with anticipation for a trip to the International Conference of Psychosynthesis in Rome, Italy. I am not accustomed to travelling internationally – and especially alone. Much preparation went into packing, arranging details, and preparing for what turned out to be the trip of a lifetime – a memorable conference and awe filled encounters in Florence, Montecatini, Assisi and Rome.

Lou Finch,Moi, Jim Samuel - we go back
almost to the  baptismal fount

At the end of July, I travelled north with great anticipation – and dread – to my 50^th high school reunion. I went to Linda Stavely’s home in Keene, NH, first, and we drove to the reunion and back to her home. I celebrated my birthday while there and then the reunion was another  “to remember forever” occasion. It wasn’t  a typical reunion. It was more like a family reunion as we all felt connected at a very deep level and some of us have maintained a connection since.

IN Montreal - Steering Committee Retreat

September, I travelled to Montreal, in anticipation of what became a memorable steering committee retreat with scrumptious vegan meals, a boat ride, another tour of the basilica, and hot chocolate at a patisserie. We shared  leading spirit exercises and conducted business in grand social synthesis style.

Madison and I touch hands - so precious

In October I flew to Oklahoma and got to hold my new granddaughter and hug my grandson’s neck. It was a long way, long wait, short visit, and priceless afternoon!

November intensified with stressful anticipation of the President’s reelection. Following that great victory, I began a meltdown, an auspicious anticipation of the end of the Mayan calendar and the promise of a shift in universal energies. But not before a delightful visit to North Carolina and a weekend with my niece, Leanne, Brian, and David.

December brought the last in our lifetime eclipses, meteor showers, an asteroid shooting through the moon and earth, the worst school shooting tragedy in the history of the USA,  12-12-12, 12-21-12 (Solstice) through 12-28-12 (full moon), sprained back, and congestive heart failure test results brings everything to closure.  In anticipation of positive resolve of heart issues, healing the sprains, I rest, relax, breathe deeply, and dance in the peaceful presence of Love Light.

Shall I venture into 2013?

Well, why not give it a go, I say!!!

I am planning on going to the Creative Communities conference in Colquitt, Georgia,  with Crescent City community leaders – a promise I claimed two years ago.

After a few important side visits, I will hunker down to giving my all to the June conference,

anticipating a successful AAP Conference during the Solstice in June.

I am dreaming of a trip to East Asia – to Indonesia, Bali, and maybe Sri Lanka – and maybe to India and Nepal.  Might be too much for this ailing heart. But, why not dream big time?

Do I dare to wish for just one – once in a lifetime gathering of the whole family in one place for one great celebration?  I do so claim this promise of pure unmitigated bliss!!!

Has it been one of those special kind of very intense and full years for you?  How would you describe your year? What promise are you willing to claim for 2013?

Both And...

Old Bo thinks he's an Eagle

The place: deep in the heart of Kenya.
The Task:  To set up a Village Leaders Training Institute

I met with the Chief to secure permission and solicit his lead in choosing the people to come to the training. He appeared genuinely interested in what I had in mind and agreed to help out if I would come to a community meeting the next day.

The next day, I arrived at the clearing as planned, encountering as I got closer, a huge crowd. There must have been 500 local citizens. This was nearly incredible since this  was an extremely rural area and people must have come from as much as twenty miles away to be able to gather 500.

"Surely" I thought, "He did not misunderstand me."  The thought of  the logistics involved in training this many escaped my sense of possibility:  the translation, the group processing, the work day, the implementation plans by villages, meals..

The Chief asked me to tell the people why I was there and to invite those who wanted to be village leaders to come and get trained.

He introduced me and  all 500 people fell silent. Even the breeze ceased for this brief moment - well sort of!!

I hadn't said three sentences when the Chief interrupted, took over and began talking in his local language to all these people.

That was it. I had all the time I was going to get.

I don't know exactly what he was saying to the people. He took a long time, and the Kenyan staff I was with told me he was holding an official meeting that had nothing to do with our being there.

I began to suspect that I had been used by this Chief as a way to gather his constituents.

The Village Leaders Institute was a success, as they usually were. We had a place to hold it, people to do the cooking, and about twenty leaders got trained - a normal sized group.

I imagine that Chief kept his word about helping me, since all the logistics were taken care of, but I am sure I helped him as well.

When is a time you have been used to your own benefit?

Balancing Thoughts and Feelings

"Your heart has been sending you in the right direction, but now it's time for you to let your gray matter weigh in on the current situation. It's not that emotions aren't important elements in your life -- they are. But right now, you need to think more logically than emotionally. Make a list of pros and cons, research all of your options, and give yourself plenty of time to make the right move. If you go from your gut exclusively, you could end up making a mistake."

I had been sitting in meditation for a couple of hours. The CD music had long been over. I was listening for an insight, and answer to the question, "What is taking all my energy to resist, keeping me in a tired state all the time? 

So,  I blessed the spaciousness I had the privilege of sharing with the oneness of all creation and went on about my day.

Later, when I had left that meditation space completely, I read the quote above. 

Unable to let it pass unconsciously, I read it again - and again - and then again. 

this was the answer to my question.

Well, not the answer, but the space into which I was drawn to find the answer.

So, I got the CD playing again, relaxed, and placed myself directly between my thought body and my emotional body -imaginally speaking. 

On the one hand, my thoughts had a word or two to say about the options I had for a direction I might choose.

On the other hand, my feelings offered options for emotions which would be accompanying the various choices available.

I held each in a hand of their own for a few long moments, sensing the balance which was coming into this inner space where I was sitting.

I felt a bit uncomfortable at first and anxious about the possibility of no resolve.  

When I was able to let that go, I also was able to let go of having to receive an answer.

I took a deep breath, opened my eyes, and my decision was clear.

My gut was going in the right direction, but I needed to be more strategic about how I went about following through with my plan.

Holding thinking and feeling in balance is always a winning model.

 Ideas are not in charge. 

Emotions are not in charge. 

I am in charge.

Who is this "I" who is in charge?

It is I who has made a decision.

When I make a free decision, I live without resistance.

It is then, that I am not tired all the time.

I am energized.

"So, why has this taken so many years to learn?," I ask myself.

The answer: This is a natural process, operating when I have been energized,  of which I am now aware.

What decisions are looming in your life - especially the one which you are resisting?

Yore, Yesterday, and Now

Time is passing slowly,  the doors which were opened after almost half a century have occasioned  fresh air to blow through the place of memories.

With the fresh air and the bright light of the sun on that place, healing has happened.

I am recalling how difficult my own reunion with my daughter's father was. Just below the surface of the forgiveness of everything, was a raging fire of resentment for the way everything came to pass.

When the resentment resurfaced, my emotions were in charge, and I struggled to function - let alone - maintain a sense of disidentification from the teenager who is now at the other end of her life.

 I did not want my daughter to get to know her father and come to be good friends with him.

At the same time, I did not want them to  get to know each other without me.

Also, at the same time, I was elated that my daughter could actually and finally meet the father whose genes she inherited, as well as many physical features.

In a blind attempt to bridge the gap between then and now,  experiencing the full  enjoyment of their meeting each other was clouded by the dust which had settled on the memories of yore.

Fortunately, for the sake of the event, I also was filled with a natural sense of delightful relief that this long held secret dream of connecting was becoming really real.

Since that week, almost a year ago now, I have done some extensive reflection on why it was that I held the man in my heart as an undying love.

This goes deeper than the undeniable fact that we share a beautiful daughter's origins.

I have come to see how much he was like my own father - a charismatic, handsome, aloof, and charming musician. Whether he actually slept with other women will always be an unknown, but he sure was good at socializing without my mother, with his musical band of minstrels.

My father also was seriously an alcoholic. Life of the party and a master at throwing good parties, the drinking finally took its toll and he headed for his life saving bottoms out crash. By then he was in his 70's.

He was a spiritual man, Mason, and a guide for my brothers and I into the source of the power of the Mystery. I can recall those moments vividly to this day.

In my relationships, I feel comfortable with addicted men. Perhaps my daughter's father was such. I sure spent my weekends in wild abandon at the end of my teens. I have forgotten most of the details of those couple three years.

While I may not remember details, but I can say even today, that my love for that man was the one and only time I loved with everything I had to give.

I do remember my feelings when I was finally pulling myself together and beginning to establish some boundaries and a sense of self worth. It was then realized I was pregnant for my daughter and went numb emotionally.

I felt he and I had gone our separate ways. We had a conversation or two around the  "what if I got pregnant?" He flat out had decided I would get an abortion which, at the time, meant a needle in a back room somewhere. He was sure he wasn't going to marry me - or ever get married.

We had  just drifted apart. I had been replaced and was doing my darnedest to replace him. (Those were the days before the feminine revolution).

I was confused and paralyzed. My mother was angry and hysterical over what I had "done to her". My father was silent, seething with anger under his silence. They asked me who the father was and I lied.

They never asked me what I wanted to do about my pregnancy. They simply whisked me off to an aunt - which is the way it was done then.

However, at my aunt's there was an uncle and two cousins who were  resentful of my being there -justifiably so, given the mindset of the times.

So, arrangements were made for me to stay with a rich woman, a famous water color artist, and take care of her bed-ridden mother and clean her house.

Later, I entered a home for unwed mothers for the duration of the pregnancy.

Every day from when I first I left home to go to my aunt's, I wrote a letter to my daughter's father, then threw it away. It would be to no avail. He had made up his mind who he was and where he was going and I would be an unwelcome intrusion.

 Slowly, I stopped writing the letters and focused more on the  blessing of the growth in my womb and my delight in anticipating the moment I could hold her in my arms.

When that moment arrived, I thought of him again, really feeling he would be delighted as well. I remember feeling the loneliness of regret- a small cloud of realizing the next steps surrounding the elation of being a mother holding the most beautiful daughter ever to be born.

 When it was time to fill out the birth certificate, I am sure I wrote his name as the father. I spent hours deliberating whether or not to leave it blank.

Later, back home and engaged to another, this man who I have held dearly in my hear,  he photographer as well,  offered to take pictures at my wedding. The groom was adamantly opposed so that didn't happen.

I saw him in a car park in Singapore while there en route to Australia some years later. I had run into his mother a couple of  months earlier. She told me he was in Singapore, and gave me his address. I did not get to  talk to him in Singapore.

For  almost a half of century, his energy has been living in my heart, occasionally showing up in my reveries with some illusion or another.

But, now that it has been almost a year, since I met him as a real person today and not a half century old illusion, it has become possible to be real about this whole thing.

Like my father, he is aloof and emotionally unavailable. I sensed that he was almost paralyzed by his own overwhelming emotions  accompanying this meeting of this child - now a beautiful woman - of our love.  He was graciously present, while at the same time keeping his emotional distance at all costs - at times bringing up a woman friend as a reminder of the present day - or mentioning his recently departed wife of forty years.

We both were in the whirlwind of yesterday and today all spiraling  and bringing chaos to the chronological pattern of it all.

Maybe he has the same affliction as my father. Maybe he controls his great emotional passion with some form of self-medication. I do not dare to venture into the actual facts, nor do I need to.

What is important is that I come to grips with my own addiction, my own comfort zone, with those who have acquired a self-medicating habit, whether it be drinking or puffin' the magic dragon.

At the moment, I'd rather be alone than dancing with my father's likeness.

Dancing is supposed to be a joyful ritual, not a pain filled sense of being alone in the arms of a ghost  on a crowded dance floor.

The door is open now, fresh air blowing in and carrying oblivious dust away. With the light of the sun, exposing the heart of the matter, a healthy perspective is now possible.

Then was then. Now is now.

When is a time you have had the privilege of bringing the long remembered and forgotten past into the present and felt the healing power of holding the two in balance, allowing the presence of such a perspective?

How to Be a Mother-in-law

Realizing things were not going well at all, and being one who prefers gentle loving bonds, I began to read all I could find on the how to be a good mother-in-law.

Research shows that 60% of mil/dil (mothers-in-law/ daughters-in law) experience stress in their relationship. I am sure that all can understand that there is a natural competition which dwindles as an obstacle to right relations  as each adjusts to the change in roles and responsibilities.

In the mean time both mil and dil engage in a dance of self-silencing in order to enjoy each other's company as they move through the awkward stages of accepting each other as each is,  rather than what each prefers the other to be.

Also true, is the fact that mils have been the successful butt of stand up comedians for years. Mostly, however,  those jokes are about how men experience their mils.

In an article by Susan Adcox, "How to be A good Mother-in-Law and Grandmother", she lays down the rules. As  I read the rules, as was the intent of the article, I asked myself:  Am I critical?  Am I too helpful?  Am I possessive? Am I  pushy? How do I be a mil AND grandmother?

In this and several other readings, I noticed that a common theme was the onus was all on the mil to be whatever it takes for there to be a good relationship between the two. But, are we not all adults now. Isn't the onus on us all to become accepting of each other, establishing boundaries which respect each other and the healthy role each plays in family dynamics?

,I then googled "how to be a good dil". Mostly, the listing there was also about how to be a good mil.

 One  link began like this:  Anthropologist Margaret Mead wrote, "Of all the peoples whom I have studied, from city dwellers to cliff dwellers, I always found that at least 50 percent would prefer to have at least one jungle between themselves and their mothers-in-law."

All I read mentioned RESPECT as the key to healthy family ties.  Some of the stories brought tears to my eyes. All that I read assured me that I am not alone, dancing on egg shells. Eggshell dancing is a fine art here and I tell you the truth when I say I love eggshell dancing.  

None of the articles reassured me that I might have a chance of being a grandmother who gets to know her grandchildren.  Not a real possibility anyway with all of them living so far away, and/or already full grown adults themselves. 

Unconditional acceptance is the only way to live freely. We all are who we are. 

There finally are no pat answers or perfect way to dance. There IS,  however, the possibility of mutual intent to trust that each other acts with the highest good. 

 Let it be. Let it be.

Have you had the privilege of having to live in the tension of in-law relatedness? How have you come to terms with this natural phenomenon?