The Universal Soul

The Currency of True Self

2011-12-23T07:54:00.000-08:00

No. I’m not taking about dollars, yens, or euros (that’d be a whole different blog)... Although, I am taking about exchange and how we “buy” and “sell” and even “trade.”

In our lives, I believe we all choose our currency (few do it carefully, while most allow the culture to do the choosing for them). And with this currency, we go out into the world of relationships to buy, sell, and trade. We use our currency to gain friendships, respect, and romance. We use it to define our position and purpose. For some, their currency is wit. For others, it’s cunning. And for some, it’s intimidation. Really, the list could go on and on…

But the way our society is, it is very easy to feel that above all, beauty and material wealth are the currencies of our nation. Everywhere we look, we are bombarded with images of sensual men and overly-sexualized women, all of which are under the age of thirty. We are inundated with fantasies of affluence and power and are made to feel that those traits are our own currency, our crowning achievement, our highest calling.

If we are unthinking, it’s all too easy to allow the magazines, movies, and television to do the picking for us. The message is ubiquitous and unceasing. But what if we rejected it? What if we went about our lives with the currency we alone created for ourselves? And what if we helped others to discover their true currency as well?

To know your real currency, your true self (or as the Buddhists call it, ātman), one must truly look within their own nature. Your currency must 1) come from your natural state, 2) be timeless, and 3) be without worldly trappings.

1) To know your natural state, one must look within themselves without the attachment of their roles and exterior definitions. Who are you, really? Not, what are you? For example I am a teacher and photographer… But who am I? I am a helper and an artist. Those traits will not change no matter my role or station in life. They are the fabric of my soul.

2) For your currency to be timeless, it cannot rely on your age or youth. It must be a nature you possess now and forever. Beauty cannot be a true currency, as it only lasts a portion of your life. And you, my friend, were not the maker of your beauty. Your true currency must be cultivated by you. Your beauty is a blessing of good genes.

3) True currency cannot come with exterior trappings that limit you or shape who you think you are. Your true self comes from within, and from this comes your currency for the world. A large home or a bountiful financial position is wonderful to share with others. But tomorrow a storm could come and carry it all away. Then what will your currency be?

So now, my friend, you must go about finding and defining your currency. And once you know, use them in your relationships with people, nature, and the Universe. Work to cultivate them and sharpen them. Use them in love, in pursuit, in selflessness. These currencies are your true self. It is a beautiful self, a more meaningful self.

This world is always changing, and so are you. The man or woman you see in the mirror today will not be there ten or twenty years from now. The jobs, wealth, physical characteristics, and roles you may perceive as “self” today, could be gone tomorrow. Instead of gripping onto this surface currency, learn to release it. Then go about the work of cultivating your true self, the one that is natural, timeless, and without the trappings of this exterior world.

And what’s magical, and exceedingly so, is that when you go out into this world with your real currency, your true self, you will be embraced by people just like you. You will be seen for exactly who you are, not what you are. And if you are not, be at peace; for the people who are oblivious to you, are often blinded by their own stumbling.

May your new year be bright!

Peace and love,

The Universal Soul

A Thousand Words...

2011-12-18T12:12:00.000-08:00

Over the past few months, I've thrown myself into my photography business and improving my craft... Here are a couple photos from the road that merge the art of photography and poetry together... Enjoy!

*All photos are property of K.A. Phinney.

Find Joy Now: Mindfulness and Non-judging

2011-11-11T08:17:00.000-08:00

Don’t wait for joy to find you. Allow the perceptions of your daily life to shift from a dreary autopilot to a dynamic actor at center-stage. Allow yourself to shape your own mind, rather than allowing your circumstances to shape it for you. You can do this with mindfulness and an attitude of non-judging.

Start with mindfulness in the little things. When you are washing the dishes, only think about the simple act of scrubbing. Take in the fragrance of the soap and feel the warm bubbles on your skin. Don’t fret about your nagging list of “to dos.” Be in the moment, for the future will care for itself. Only meditate in the absolute simplicity of the here and now.

Other “mindless” tasks that can become mindful:

1. Picking up after your children: Instead of becoming overwhelmed by the monotony of picking up the same ten toys for the tenth day in a row, count your blessings. Each toy was afforded by your financial ability or from a loving family member or friend. Think of that instead. Or, think about how each of those toys gave your child joy today.

2. Making your bed: Like I’ve posted before, making your bed can get a little old. We do it every day, right? Instead of rushing through the familiar motions, thank God that you have a warm bed to sleep in. Never forget that millions of people don’t…

3. Preparing dinner: Some people LOVE to cook, so they are already mindful. Their pure joy and passion already makes them a mindful cook. But for those of us who aren’t Julia Childs, we need to learn to be mindful for the evolution of food. We are blessed it is so widely available, as millions of people can’t count on their next meal. Healthy food choices nourish our bodies and souls. When we are cutting or dicing or chopping or cleaning, we can take joy in those small steps which will lead to a meal. And that meal brings our family and friends together. Be mindful that it is a blessing and that it is an investment in your loved ones health and happiness.

The next crucial step is to practice approaching difficult tasks and challenges with a non-judging attitude. Our mind tells our emotions what to feel and our body how to act. If we have a peaceful mindfulness in our dealings with others, we will be fully present and in control. When we practice non-judging we will be less likely to spiral into a fit of anxiety or irritability. And we will be more likely to achieve a comforting homeostasis in a raging storm.

Non-judging tasks and challenges:

1. Traffic jams: Every day that you leave in your vehicle, especially in a busy city, you are leaving your realm of control and entering the beehive of society. It is inevitable that you will get stuck in traffic, be cut-off, or experience a fender-bender. It is hard to accept, but we often have no control over these circumstances. So rather than allowing your brain to judge the traffic as something that angers you or tests your patience, allow yourself to think nothing at all of the traffic. Create a bubble around yourself. Listen to music or talk radio that calms you and puts your mind on higher things. Simply focus on being the best driver you can be, and when traffic gets bad or someone cuts you off, allow it to have no effect on you. Continue to be non-judging and be certain you are only emitting positive energy into the world.

2. Angry co-worker: This is a tough one. You colleague is a difficult person, maybe an erratic ticking-time bomb. They are confrontational and quick to call you out. Instead on allowing their toxic energy to suck you in, practicing non-judging. Deny your ego’s kneejerk reaction to engage or make harsh judgments. This only puts out more negative energy and gives an abundance of air to an already fiery entity. Instead, accept that that behavior is your colleague’s way. It is not yours. Limit your interactions and never return their low-blows with a similar energy. Ignore their nasty e-mails, or if you must, reply in a neutral tone. As hard as it may be, work at understanding your angry colleague rather than judging them. There is certainly a decaying burden at the root of their anger.

3. Challenging family members: Family is, well, complicated. We get caught up in our roles, our complicated histories, and unfulfilled expectations. Because of these intricacies, we have scars and open wounds. Instead of making a judgment on your family member’s choices or lifestyle, try to understand them. If your father has never shown your affection or validation, don’t allow your ego to judge him an inept man. He may not fulfill your rightful needs, but there is still goodness to be found. Try instead to understand him and his life-view. Look into his past, and you may find a glimpse of clarity that allows for your understanding. Let this understanding bring you the peace to rise above the difficulties of an imperfect relationship and give you the validation you so desperately seek.

In the end, mindfulness and non-judging are choices we must make. They determine the world we see and the life we will live. So much of this great Earth is uncontrollable. And our mind, which is the map for our spirits, is the only thing we can control. We must choose our prism and the space our soul will inhabit.

Peace and blessings to you on this beautiful day,

The Universal Soul

Photography

2011-10-31T17:00:00.000-07:00

I haven't left you all... I am just growing.

My love of words and thought and beauty has spilled over into photography.

You can find me here too: http://phinneyphotography.blogspot.com/

Please visit and follow me! I'd love to have you.

Pencil it in…

2011-10-19T16:28:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I get in my own way.

My thoughts bog me down. My worries become a stronghold. My “to do” list becomes a tyrant. And in the midst of it all, I tell myself a lie: there’s no time for inspiration. There’s no time to sit. No time to write. No time to read. No time to play my guitar. No time to meditate or pray.

I am really good at working the perpetual state of “go-go-go.” I think we all are because that’s the lives we’re living. But what if we’re wrong? What if this rat race is the lie?

A couple weeks ago I wrote about finding every excuse to embrace life as the beautiful, fleeting thing that it is… My heart knows this. My mind knows this. But apparently, my schedule doesn’t.

Looks like my schedule and I need to talk…

But, the bottom line is: there is time for inspiration. It’s all around us. We just have to make time for it. I wish it were as easy as penciling it in:

Monday 5:00-7:00 p.m. meet Inspiration at the park

or

Sunday 7:15-8:00 p.m. curl up with Inspiration

But then again, what if it were that easy? Life is merely time, isn’t it? So if that’s all it is, then why don’t we start making time to live life? What can’t we find some time for inspiration in every day? We’re good at making time for everything else...

Maybe what inspires you is different from me, but what matters is that we move time for ourselves to the top of the “to do” list. What are the things that make you feel alive? What makes you sigh deeply with satisfaction? Is it reading to your small child? Running solo as the sun sets over the orange sky? Working at a soup kitchen? Figure it out (like I am), and pencil in some time for yourself to get inspired.

When we’re inspired we operate at our highest forms of ourselves. We are light. We are air. We are dynamic. And when we are full of life and inspiration, people take notice. We draw others to ourselves because we are in balance. Life’s joys expand.

So turn off the television. Shut off the computer. Let the “to do” list wait. Let’s make it a point to be inspired every day. Let’s pencil it in, as funny as that sounds…

This week, let inspiration be your new priority.

Let the light in.

Let your life become an art form.

Guest Post: "Imagine"

2011-10-04T15:09:00.000-07:00

Below is a beautiful poem submitted by one or our readers. It's spiritual and incredibly inspiring. Please enjoy this piece and feel warmly encouraged to submit your writing or poetry to TheUniversalSoul@hotmail.com.

“Imagine”
By Lauren Madsen

Here I find myself basking in the aesthetics of my mind’s playground:
Dreamland

I doodle with my thoughts on the sketchpad of my imagination.

I'm contemplating in the mirror.
The reflection staring back at me penetrates my soul
With ravenous eyes seeking out the optimism in life’s creations.

Confide in me your secrets and let the wind whisk them away in a graceful bliss.

I float along in this celestial slice of heaven.
Angels nurture my emotions and guide me on this path to self actualization.

The chirping of the birds ignites a hungry fire ablaze in my heart.

I am a butterfly fluttering around in this ubiquitous concept on conformity.
We are all pieces that mold together to create this mundane society.

I learn to adapt by persevering through whatever maelstrom of trials life thrusts at me.
This undulating stream of hopes and dreams drowns me in revelry of happiness.

The rustling of the leaves serenades me like the strings of a guitar.

Listen to the sweet melancholy in this peaceful calm.

On it echoes,
on and on...

And THIS is Life…

2011-10-02T20:10:00.001-07:00

Today, a little girl was born and an old woman waited at the steps of Heaven.

At just after midnight, the message came: one of my best friends was in labor. She gave birth to a beautiful baby girl just after 5:00 a.m. this morning. Madison Therese. Beautiful.

Then, just after noon today, another message came. My mother called to tell me that our dear elderly friend at her church was finally losing her arduous battle to COPD. Ann. Beautiful Ann.

So today, I cried. Tears of joy and sorrow too. And I thought, "And this is life..." THIS, my friend, is life. In one minute, a child is born into the world. Pink, innocent expectations. And in the next, someone is leaving it, slipping away like the last seconds of night.

Life. It’s a bittersweet coming and going. It’s poetic in its very makings. We are tugged one way, and then pulled the other. We laugh so hard that it hurts. Then we hurt so hard we have to laugh. Sometimes the happiness is so abundant and all-consuming that anguish feels like impossibility. Then sometimes the pain is so gut-wrenching we feel like we’ll never leave the valley of grief.

Ying and yang. Ups and downs. Inside-out and outside-in.

But this is life. Whatever it is. Whatever it is not.

There’s something so much more epic and mysterious than I can intellectualize about today’s happenings. It's so much bigger than me. But what I can take away from it is that perhaps the beauty Ann radiated will be funneled through Baby Madison. Maybe that’s the cycle of the Universe. The doings of God.

Perhaps beauty doesn’t ever die. Maybe it’s reinvented. Renewed. Relived.

Every time I look at Madison, I’ll think of Ann. When she does something new or squeals with unbridled joy, I’ll think of Ann. Somehow they’re connected for me now.

But then again, perhaps we all are.

And that’s the way of the Universe. The doings of God.

Peace,

P.S. May God be with Baby Madison and Ann tonight, whenever they are. Amen.

Heaven is.

2011-09-29T16:35:00.000-07:00

Heaven is
the webbed lightning
that stitches up the purple sky
and the salvaging tears
we cry when we ask who God is
and is not.

Heaven is
the humanity that has disappeared,
that has slipped through fingers
in near misses and misgivings,
that has loved God in many ways
that have been misunderstood
and misnamed by lookers-on.

Heaven is
the lithe shapeless shifting form
that cannot be named or pinned down,
that cannot discriminate among
Hindu, Buddhist, or Monk,
and will not judge beyond
a heart, a mind, or song.

Heaven is
a sublime canopy over the tired body
on a brutish day,
a blind judge that feels
only a glowing spirit,
a pathway that acts
outside of man’s vain attempt
to control it
to define it
to shape it
to sell it.

Heaven is.

By: K.A. Phinney

Find EVERY Excuse!

2011-09-26T14:18:00.000-07:00

I had faith that the writing would come back when the time was right. Today, a divine thought popped into my mind. A little whisper hummed in my ear, and it went like this: Find every excuse to absolutely LOVE your life because it’s the only one you’ll ever have.

Clichéd? Perhaps. But how many clichés are just that… until you actually live them or connect with them? It’s funny, actually. I’ve heard “Life’s a gift; that’s why it’s called the present” a million times… But today, the idea of finding an excuse to absolutely LOVE my life spoke to me in a way that just grabbed me. I’ve been feeling this for a while, but finally the words came, and I guess I had to share this epiphany with you… my five readers!

It seems that most days, we are in survival mode… The sun peaks, orange in its burning glory, over the horizon, and we are off… Buzzing at a million miles per hour until the sun sets and the moon is hung among the stars. Then tomorrow, it all begins again. How many times have you said, “Whew! So glad I survived that week!”? I know I’m guilty of it…

Instead of merely surviving, we need to be thriving… We need to find every excuse to absolutely LOVE our lives… They come only once… And the happiness, and the joy, and the peace are the gems we must find and nourish. So how do we do that?

Well I sure don’t have all the answers, but here are some tips I’ve learned work for me and some ideas I’ve collected from various places:

1) Be in the moment and no place else. Worrying about what will be steals your joy and worrying never made anything any easier. “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life… Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” –Matthew 6:25-27
2) Find joy in the simplicity of daily tasks. Every day, I make my bed (Mom would be proud). I used to hate it (maybe she wouldn’t be proud about that). But now, I have some beautiful red, purple, and brown stripped throw pillows that make me smile. When I make my bed I take my time and place them just so on top, and I get a little joy from the final product. When I go to sleep at night, I thank God for a warm, safe bed to sleep in as I pull down the covers. Simple task, but infinite joy. Think of your daily tasks, and find a way to squeeze the joy out of them.
3) Create a life soundtrack (for the moment). Music is exceedingly powerful. It soothes us. It connects us. It empowers us. All these feelings shape the human experience. Why not be sure your favorite songs are at your fingertips? Take time to make a soundtrack of songs that bring you joy, make you think, or remind you about the things you need to think on most. Play them in your car, as you work out, or before you go to sleep… It will make a huge difference and take your mind off things that keep you from reveling in your precious life.
4) Make a Gives Me Hope List. So many times, we fixate on what we don’t have or what people do that drives us nuts. Sometimes we’re consumed by shortcomings, disappointments, and the wars waged throughout the world. It’s important we acknowledge these things, but if it’s all we allow ourselves to think about, then we tend to forget about all the things that give us hope. At the end of each night or week, generate a “Gives Me Hope List.” Here’s my example: Last week I saw a girl stop in the hallway to help a student in a wheelchair gather the books that fell from his lap as the crowd just rushed passed him. Her compassion for those who need it most gives me hope. Check out www.GivesMeHope.com to see more of what I mean.

There are plenty more things we can do to be certain we find the maximum joy and love in our fleeting lives. There’s really no excuse that we shouldn’t. Even when it’s as bad as you think it can get, look deep within yourself and into the eyes of the people that love you, and I am certain you will find something to live for.

So what things do you do to absolutely LOVE life? Please share!

I'm so glad we could talk again. Please come back soon! I think I have some new things bumping around in my mind that might be worthy to share with you.

Peace and love,

Coming Up for Air and Broken-down Trains...

2011-04-12T15:55:00.001-07:00

I am normally orbiting in the abstract, daydream world where I can theorize or meditate on just about anything. A leaf drifting on the wind means something to me, and I’ve always been all too good about neglecting the menial tasks of life for “higher pursuits” (Just ask my family about this one!).

And though some of us may be completely content with being ethereal, sometimes life on Earth grabs you by your belt loops and drags you back down to the land of the living…

It’s like reality is a really possessive ex-boyfriend, and he wants you back.

As I wrote in my “Forgive Me?” letter last week, life was having its way with me. Which means that I went from thriving to surviving. And when that happens, as you well know, you sort of lose a bit of control, a bit of your sanity. And that means you certainly neglect making time for the quiet time or the time when you come up for air.

But coming up for air is a mandatory luxury, isn’t it?

So what did I do when I stopped coming up for air? Well, I buried myself even further beneath the suffocations of work, household chores, and mindless consumption (Oreos, American Idol, and Entertainment Weekly). But of course you can insert some family dramas, a couple of serious illnesses, and a major readjustment or two between the Oreos and the Entertainment Weekly. Those experiences were the major reasons I turned to the said Oreos (double-stuffed, to be exact). And besides, who doesn’t like the much nicer, kinder American Idol?

All kidding aside, my dry spell meant that my guitar practice and song writing stopped. My novel ceased. My yoga was stuck in child's pose. Even my poetry dried up (insert shedding of tear). Heck, the closest thing to creativity was my sing-alongs to Pandora radio... Until Jack saved me.

That’s Mr. Jack Johnson, to be exact. On one of my many long, insipid days I was listening to Pandora Radio as I was grading one of about 100 English honors essays on cultural conflict in the Middle East and the world at large and the thematic connections in our cannon of literature...

I was frazzled and overwhelmed by the monotonous workload and the dullness in my joints... And that’s when Jack spoke to me. He said he’d been there to… In his song “Breakdown,” Jack Johnson was me…

I hope this old train breaks down
Then I could take a walk around
And, see what there is to see
And time is just a melody
All the people in the street
Walk as fast as their feet can take them
I just roll through town
And though my windows got a view
The frame I'm looking through
Seems to have no concern for now
So for now

I need this
Old train to breakdown
Oh please just
Let me please breakdown

This engine screams out loud
Centipede gonna crawl westbound
So I don't even make a sound
Cause it's gonna sting me when I leave this town
All the people in the street
That I'll never get to meet
If these tracks don't bend somehow
And I got no time
That I got to get to
Where I don't need to be
So I

I need this
Old train to breakdown
Oh please just
Let me please breakdown
I need this
Old train to breakdown
Oh please just
Let me please breakdown
I wanna break on down
But I cant stop now
Let me break on down

But you cant stop nothing
If you got no control
Of the thoughts in your mind
That you kept in, you know
You don't know nothing
But you don't need to know
The wisdoms in the trees
Not the glass windows
You cant stop wishing
If you don't let go
But things that you find
And you lose, and you know
You keep on rolling
Put the moment on hold
The frames too bright
So put the blinds down low

I need this
Old train to breakdown
Oh please just
Let me please breakdown
I need this
Old train to breakdown
Oh please just
Let me please breakdown
I wanna break on down
But I cant stop now

Jack was tired and drained, and he just wanted the train to breakdown so he could stop and smell the roses. He wanted the rushing and the flashing and the hastening to stop so he could just be; he wanted to chill and count his blessings.

And that’s me. Heck, that's all of us! That’s what we all want. And this song reminded me that I don’t need to wish for the train to breakdown so I can come up for air. I need to make it breakdown! So I got to work...

I am still working... And I'll be a work in progress until my last breath. Good thing there’s absolutely nothing wrong with wishing for a broken-down train and that we're entitled to stop and smell the roses of the Universe. Truly, it's a disservice to our humanity when we don't, and it's a disservice to God's miraculous handiwork.

That's the lesson I've learned lately.

So here's to coming up for air and broken-down trains... Here's to going nowhere... Here's to standing still... and just breathing. And thank you, my surfer-hippy-guitar guru dude, for inspiring me to “break on down.” And here's hoping you "break on down" too.

Namaste. ;)

Listen to "Breakdown" here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ySH9qfLTyaw

Death is Nothing at All

2011-04-12T15:44:00.000-07:00

Death is nothing at all.
I have only slipped away to the next room.
I am I and you are you.
Whatever we were to each other,
That, we still are.

Call me by my old familiar name.
Speak to me in the easy way
which you always used.
Put no difference into your tone.
Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow.

Laugh as we always laughed
at the little jokes we enjoyed together.
Play, smile, think of me. Pray for me.
Let my name be ever the household word
that it always was.
Let it be spoken without effect.
Without the trace of a shadow on it.

Life means all that it ever meant.
It is the same that it ever was.
There is absolute unbroken continuity.
Why should I be out of mind
because I am out of sight?

I am but waiting for you.
For an interval.
Somewhere. Very near.
Just around the corner.

All is well.

--Henry Scott Holland

R.I.P. to the ones we have lost... Godspeed.

Forgive Me?

2011-03-25T18:11:00.000-07:00

Dear Friendly Soul,

I know I’ve been missing, but I hope you can forgive me… Life sort of got away from me for a bit. Or maybe I poured myself dry. I’m not entirely sure.

They say still waters run deep, but it seems we writers suffer from an empty well every now and again, even when we’re still… Oh, who am I kidding? That’s just plain fancy-talk for, “Hello, my name is the Universal Soul, and I’ve been suffering from writer’s block.”

My hiatus from our virtual corner in the world (since Thanksgiving… yikes) would be diagnosed as writer’s block by any common physician; however, my symptoms are a bit more complicated, as all good writers know. To boil them all down into one mother-symptom, I must confess I’ve been spreading myself too thin. Amid all the work, family functions, work, friendship fixes, illnesses, and work… I’ve forgotten (and even neglected) to breathe, to sit, to stare off into the wild blue yonder... and to write to you.

To be honest, I actually thought I lost my mojo (Did I just use the word mojo?)… I’m still not convinced that I didn’t, but I am hoping my few remaining fans are still out there and are reading this (Miracles anyone?)… And I surely hope you’ll have me back, not to mention find a way to forgive my stop-and-go writing and the mediocre musings that are sure to bleed out of my pen moving forward…

Then maybe we can get to the good stuff again… Since that’s what it’s all about…

Yours Truly,

The Universal Soul

What is Happiness?

2011-03-14T18:16:00.000-07:00

Thanksgiving: The Forgotten Holiday?

2010-11-22T07:47:00.000-08:00

“Thanksgiving Day is a jewel, to set in the hearts of honest men; but be careful that you do not take the day, and leave out the gratitude.” ~E.P. Powell

Thanksgiving: a day of gluttony, around the clock football, and the eve of the biggest shopping day of the year…

Wait! That doesn’t sound right, does it?

Is it me, or does it seem that our modern society is putting materialism before spiritualism again? They are so good at making holidays about something other than what they were originally created for.

It’s sad to hear only the talk of what we’re putting on the dinner table, what we’re watching on the television, and what were buying in the stores. I’ve even heard people refer to Thanksgiving as a day to celebrate the murderous pilgrims and the plight of the Native American. I am not excusing the Trail of Tears and the transgressions against this land's indigenous people, but that wasn't what Thanksgiving was about at all.

Does all this chatter get you down, or am I simply a naïve woman who prefers to see Thanksgiving as two things and two things alone? Making time for your loved ones and giving thanks…

When I think about the fourth Thursday in November, I smile because it’s a day to commemorate our heritage and the sacrifices of our ancestors who had a hand in constructing this great nation. And what’s better than to celebrate those things than by looking around, taking stock of all our blessings, and thanking God them?

Whatever prism you view Thanksgiving through, I pray that despite the ups and downs you experienced in 2010, you have a handful of blessing and some amazing people to spend November 25th with. And though our nation’s history is a marred one, I hope you are able to find the goodness that is worthy to celebrate. No nation across the face of the planet has ever been freer, and we can all be thankful for that.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving holiday with your loved ones and raise a glass to the blessings. There is much thanks to be offered up "... for each new morning with its light, for rest and shelter of the night, for health and food, for love and friends, for everything [His] goodness sends" (Ralph Waldo Emerson).

What I Know...

2010-11-18T15:33:00.000-08:00

I know that if you don’t mark time, it will disappear; so make it memorable.

I know that happy wrinkles come from living beautifully, and that’s the only way.

I know that the life you build is a reflection of your soul; it’s not about what’s in the mirror.

I know that Karma isn’t just a catch phrase; it’s real.

I know that God doesn’t live in heaven; he lives in me.

I know that forgiveness isn’t for your enemy; it’s for you.

I know that people remember what you say better than you do; speak carefully.

I know there’s an invisible lake attached to each of us; be mindful of your ripple effect.

I know that kindness is higher than intellect; it’s better to be a lover of man than the lover of books.

I know that listening speaks louder than words.

I know that there is no excuse for hatred—ever.

And I know that I know really nothing at all, and that’s why I must continue to be a mere student of life. And upon death, I hope to graduate to Heaven.

And that’s what I know...

for now...

Being Okay with God: Part III

2010-10-10T00:01:00.000-07:00

If you haven't, please read "Being Okay with God: Part I" and "Being Okay with God: Part II" before you read this, as they build on each other. Thank you!

PART III

Miracles DO happen.

They really do. And as I said, God had one more miracle to share with me...

I can't believe this (actually I can...), but just as I was reflecting on my crisis of faith during my mother’s battle with ovarian cancer and writing about it to all you lovely readers at The Universal Soul, God did something really BIG in my life this very week. I mean this timing can’t be a mere coincidence. It can’t be “ironic” or a fluke. It’s got to be God. And I think you’ll agree…

To find out how this story ends, you’ll have to read this letter I wrote to my mother explaining what happened because I don’t know how else to explain it to you...

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“The Girl and the Pink Pen”
A letter to my mother on 10/8/2010

Mom,

I know this is random, but I have to share this with you. Today a student in my class was presenting a project about her personal culture, and part of that was her family. She stood up and showed everyone a pink pen and then started to cry. And then she couldn’t go on…

Everyone waited for a few moments in utter silence. We didn’t know why she was crying, but people started to tear up anyway. Then she continued. She said the pink pen represented breast cancer. She said that someone she loves is fighting a battle against breast cancer right now. And then she broke down in tears. She couldn’t bring herself to tell the rest. I asked her if she wanted to present her project with me later, and she thanked me and said she would.

She sat back down at her desk, and I brought her the tissues. After that, something beautiful happened. The class began to raise their hands. One by one, they looked this young girl in her eyes and told her they’d been there. They said she was brave. They told her they lost the one they loved, and they know how she feels. Then some students shared stories about survivors, and they promised her that her loved one could be a survivor too. That exchange gave me hope. Watching these young people step up and use their voices made me feel like I was privy to the most beautiful experience we human beings can have.

After the students were done supporting and sharing with one another, I shared your story. I told the young girl with the pink pen that you had ovarian cancer. I told her that as soon as I heard the news I thought about death and that I couldn't lose my mother. She cried and nodded her head. But then I got to tell her that you survived. I got to tell her to hold onto those survival stories as hope that her loved one would survive too. She smiled and thanked me. And then the entire class told her to hang on. There wasn’t a dry eye.

This moment will be—forever—one of my most treasured teaching memories. And I had to tell you for two reasons: 1) because you’re the best teacher I know, and I strive to emulate your heart and 2) because your survival story happened so you could go on and bless others.

I now fully understand why God allowed this to happen to you. Your struggle and pain and scars had to happen so others could be blessed and be guided by your story.

It’s amazing how things come full circle. God does have a master plan. It won’t always be easy. It can hurt a lot, but if we are steadfast, God will reveal the end result. I am a better person and a far more compassionate person because of this struggle our family has gone through.

I think this story illuminates the idea that we are all connected to one another. We aren't strangers, but rather God's children. Who could have ever known that what happened to our family two years ago would reach out and touch this young lady?

Anyway, I love you so much. I will be seeing you soon.

xoxo,
me

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So do you believe me? It’s a bit of a miracle, isn’t it? I started writing about this chapter in my life just days before this happened. How was I to know? There wasn't suppose to be a Part III to this series, but now there is.

I feel blessed to be able to share this with you. And I can tell you wholeheartedly that this is why I am okay with God. I hope you are too. And please share your stories...

Being Okay with God: Part II

2010-10-09T15:58:00.000-07:00

If you haven't yet, please read "Being Okay with God: Part I" first. Part II builds on the story in Part I.

Part II

When something bad happens to us, I suppose that it’s human nature—or perhaps human frailty—that causes the kneejerk question “If God loves us so much, then how come he let’s us suffer?” Or perhaps we ask the father of all God Questions, “Why does God let bad things happen to good people?”

When it came to the news of my mother’s cancer, I was asking both questions. In my mind, I thought that if saints were taking up residence on Rocky Mountain Road (the street my parents lived on), my mother could be a founding member. She was a woman after God’s own heart, humble and disarmingly sincere. Wasn’t this enough for God? Couldn’t he let someone else have cancer? Perhaps a murderer or cheat instead? Why her? Why now? WHY ever?

My dad always told me to keep God close because you don’t want to have to go running and searching for him when something catastrophic happens. My mom always told me that God is like a patient father who sits in a rocking chair in front of the fireplace at the center of the home waiting for us, the rowdy and busy teen, to sit at his feet and stay awhile.

You’d think with powerful anecdotes like that, I would have listened to their spiritual guidance… but I didn’t. And I only know that now as I look back over my shoulder into my past of just two years ago. I guess I thought God and I were a lot tighter than we were. And it wasn’t his fault we were that way; it was mine.

I was that rowdy teen. I acknowledged there was a God, and I even read my Bible, but I was too busy coming and going to actually sit down at his feet and stay awhile. And as you know, when we don’t work at our relationships, they become tenuous and weak.

God was waiting in a rocking chair in front of the fireplace, and I was too busy. So naturally, when something really bad happened, like my mother getting cancer, I turned from a rowdy teen into an angry one. I wasn’t truly making time for God before, and now I was really pissed off at him.

To put it simply, God and I weren’t talking. Or was it, I wasn’t talking to God?

As the weeks went by, I watched in awe as other people in our church and family leaned heavily on God when they heard the news about my mother. They were talking about him and praying to him and counting on him. And me? I was just nodding my head and crying.

It’s not that I didn’t believe in God (because I did); I just didn’t think he cared about us the way we humans thought he did. My new premise was that if God could do THIS to my mother, then he’s not the God I want to know. (And now, it’s hard to even type those words. I was wrong. I was very, very wrong.)

Despite my God-boycott, something amazing happened. In spite of my lack of utter faithfulness, God still had faith in me and my family. He was steadfast even when I turned my back. He still made a miracle I wasn’t worthy of.

BUT you know who was worthy? My mother! Her unwavering faith carried us all. She never asked, “Why me, God?” She never questioned the “why” at all. She just begged that we’d believe that God was in control. That was her prayer.

In the time I now call “limbo,” which was the two months between her surgeries and the news, I was told about a book called The Shack. Everyone was talking about it. Some people thought it perverted the Christian word of God, while others loved it because it clarified God’s love for them in a new and unique way. Since I wasn’t really speaking to God, I thought why not check out this book that’s got all these tongues wagging?

Well, reading The Shack changed me. It came to me at the right time in my life and walked me through my “limbo.” I couldn’t put it down, and I read parts over and over again, as the main character of the book came face-to-face with God after his daughter was raped and murdered. I thought about all the strife we see here on Earth, and that story got me thinking…

I learned that the strife is NOT God’s doing. Strife is the fallout of a free world, and God is the solution to the fallout. The book helped me to see God in a gentler light, when all I could see was a distant, austere giant. It softened my heart. And I finally prayed for a miracle right there on my carpet, as the afternoon sun beamed through the blinds. And this time I meant it. It was my first step in many of being okay with God.

And as I closed the last pages of The Shack, and as I started to pray to God again, a change in the tide was coming…

After two evasive surgeries and a whole community’s weight in prayers, my mother was declared cancer-free. She wouldn’t need chemo. She’s wouldn’t need radiation. She would only need to live her life. Hearing the news made an ordinary day the best day of my life.

The nurses were calling it a miracle by the doctor’s hands and that her news was the best news they were able to share that day. The doctor even said God was guiding his hands. Everyone we knew felt the same way.

I doubted God, but he pulled us through. It's a simple and as complicated as that!

Now I don’t see my mother as cursed and betrayed by God. I see her as a very special story, an angel on Earth. God loved my mother so much that he brought her through this trial so that she could be good news for others.

And God loved me so much that he was about to show me YET another miracle that would close the chapter of this poignant story…

Please stop by tomorrow for PART III...

Rumi's Love Poem

2010-10-05T19:04:00.000-07:00

"In the Arc of Your Mallet"

Rumi

Don’t go anywhere without me.
Let nothing happen in the sky apart from me,
or on the ground, in this world or that world,
without my being in its happening.
Vision, see nothing I don’t see.
Language, say nothing.
The way the night knows itself with the moon,
be that with me. Be the rose
nearest to the thorn that I am.

I want to feel myself in you when you taste food,
in the arc of your mallet when you work,
when you visit friends, when you go
up on the roof by yourself at night.

There’s nothing worse than to walk out along the street
without you. I don’t know where I’m going.
You’re the road and the knower of roads,

more than maps, more than love.

Being Okay with God: Part I

2010-10-04T16:09:00.000-07:00

I think a lot of us—if we’re willing to look over our shoulder—can admit that we’ve had a crisis in faith at some point in time. For me, I can pinpoint the moment when my faith was almost leveled.

In June of 2008, my family, through a trial of draining events, learned that my mother had ovarian cancer. Yes, it was the C word, the word every one of us has come to dread because every last one of us loves someone that this horrid disease has claimed.

I’ll never forget the way the news played out. The doctor thought my mother’s post surgery follow-up would be a grand event. In fact, he was so sure the news would carry a clean bill of health that we kids were convinced to stay home while just my father and mother went in for the results. My dad was so certain that he even waited in the car, reading a biography on the Founding Fathers, while my mother went into the doctor’s office for her appointment.

It was suppose to be no big deal.

So after waiting for several minutes, my dad had become engrossed in his book when he heard a rapt on the window. And there stood my mother, gray and trying to find the words.

“The doctor wants to see us both,” she choked out.

And before they knew it, they were sitting before an awestruck man, who nearly cried as he bore out the horrifying news. “I—I can’t believe this, but—I’m so sorry… but you have ovarian cancer.”

They say they remember staring and asking how it was possible and crying… and little of anything else. My mother and father explained the ride up the mountain home as a dreadful climb.

Meanwhile, my sister, husband, and I were out for lunch, an “early celebration” for my mother’s clean bill of health, I guess you could say. And we all know what happens when we count our chickens before they hatch…

My parents beat us home.

When we finally arrived on the door step, laughing and smiling and soaking in the perfect summer day, I remember looking at my mother. And I’ll never forget the exchange we had.

“Mom!” I called out. And she appeared. “Oh, look at you! You look beautiful and healthy, like I knew you would be. How’d it go?”

“That’s what we need to talk to you about.” And those were the words that sent my faith in God in a deadly plunge for the ground.

We all gathered in the kitchen. The heart of our home. And once there, all the horrible details came out. She had ovarian cancer. She’d need another surgery and perhaps chemotherapy or radiation.

I cried out instantly and begged for the cancer to be a mirage, a figment of my imagination... But it was real, and I was in freefall. My husband stood against me, propping me up in his grip… And my baby sister, my sweet baby sister, shrank away in silence. Large pools of tears flooded her blueberry eyes.

And just like that, loud rumbles of thunder rolled through the mountain air, and the sky darkened. One minute later, it was pouring.

It was like God was crying. He was crying for my mother. He was crying for all the suffering that plagues the Earth. And I knew one of those tears were for me.

He knew what I was doing. I was losing my faith as quickly as a tub drains lukewarm water from a bath. And the water was flooding out… all over the ground.

The moments that followed are as nebulous as the clouds in a midnight sky. I only remember sitting on the dark stairway listening to the voices and the violent rain, wishing like a devil that God wasn’t this cruel.

PART II COMING SOON…

Chances are...

2010-10-01T17:42:00.000-07:00

We are all blessed. And all more blessed than we knew.

You need to know that...

2010-10-01T15:51:00.000-07:00

Life is...

2010-09-30T16:37:00.000-07:00

What is life to you?

The Perfect Problem

2010-09-25T12:36:00.000-07:00

“The thing that is really hard, and really amazing, is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself.” – Anna Quindlen

If any post has been as equally for me as it is for you, this may be the one. In fact, I have to be frank with you—I am writing this to myself and for myself since the genesis for these words came strictly from my own struggles.

A long time ago, someone once told me that trying to be perfect is like telling God his work of art isn’t good enough. That sort of stuck with me... It’s too bad that I didn’t actually process this message until last week—years, have you, after receiving this kernel of spiritual enlightenment.

If you knew me—and it’s safe for me to venture this characterization because I’ve heard it for longer than I’d like to admit—you might list words like perfectionist, type-A, and maybe even meticulous to describe my nature. If I am not fretting about one thing, I am probably fretting about another. It’s my “perfect” problem. I constantly feel like I’ve got something to prove, and in turn, I allow my actions and thoughts to be consumed by the need to please, by the need to be good enough.

At times, I am like the look-out in a pack of wolves: pensive, eager, and even paranoid. I’ve mulled over this idea a lot, and I’ve concluded that my look-out behavior stems from my reliance on myself and my perception of what others may or may not be thinking about me. I am mistaken, and I know it. But sadly, I keep making those mistakes, over and over again.

Why can't I shake this need to prove I am "good enough?" If I know my behaviors and thoughts are mistaken, why can’t I stop? Why can’t I just let go and let God? Why can’t I shrug off this “perfect” problem of mine?

I know what my mother would tell me: I’ve got to define myself through God’s perceptions of me and lean on God’s strength instead of my own. I know what my friends would tell me: “Who cares what other people think!”

And I hear them; I know they’re right. But I don’t know what to do next...

As I type this, I have no specific solutions for myself. There’s no action plan that will help me let my need for perfection go. Honestly, I don’t know how I will purposely be better tomorrow… If I did, I probably would have done it by now. I am sure the textbooks would tell me to retrain my mind. The devout would tell me to pray. The insightful would tell me to scale back and calm down. I know all these things too; I just don’t know why I can’t apply them in a real way to finally rid myself of this “perfect” problem.

I feel like an addict sometimes, and perfection, or rather the pursuit for perfection, is my drug. I grip the feelings and rituals I’ve associated with perfection like an eagle clenches its prey as he jets through the sky.

But maybe I am not alone in this boat. Maybe, just maybe, you’ve struggled with this too. In fact, my problem may hit home for many other woman today. Given the way this culture is, it might be safe to say that we are all consumed by the chase for that elusive perfection in one way or another.

Joseph Campbell, an American writer and philosopher best remembered for his mantra “Follow your bliss,” reminds us that the achievement of perfection is not perfect at all, explaining that “Out of perfection nothing can be made. Every process involves breaking something up.”

So in close, I must admit that I still don’t have the answers, but what I can say is that I plan on breaking myself up. I plan on stripping down the layers. I plan on introspection. I must be silent more and listen harder. What exact message I am listening for, I can’t say. I just know God’s voice will be carrying one of them. And in time, I hope that I will be able to dig deep enough so that I can confront my “perfect” problem and do away with it once and for all.

Sea of Humanity

2010-09-14T16:47:00.000-07:00

I've often thought that we have more in common than we don't. I've thought that if we could just realize that though we are sometimes at a distance—like fingertips and toes—we are all connected, and then maybe we'd hurt each other less. If we learn to acknowledge the history we stand on and seek our divine purpose in relationship to others, we could all be better human beings.

And then I got to thinking… my thoughts aren’t anything new. In fact, far more articulate and interesting people felt the very same way about this sea of humanity we all populate and what they have to say is pretty inspiring.

Strange is our situation here upon Earth. Each of us comes for a
short visit, not knowing why, yet sometimes seeming to a divine purpose. From the standpoint of daily life, however, there is one thing we do know: That we are here for the sake of others...for the countless unknown souls with whose fate we are connected by a bond of sympathy. Many times a day, I realize how much my outer and inner life is built upon the labors of people, both living and dead, and how earnestly I must exert myself in order to give in return as much as I have received.”
~Albert Einstein

"I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,
I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.

The last scud of day holds back for me,
It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the shadow'd wilds,
It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk.

I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun,
I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.

You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.

Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop somewhere waiting for you."
~Walt Whitman, Song of Myself

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Inspired, by these words and the experiences in my life, I wrote this poem:

"Sea of Humanity"
By: K.A. Phinney

I am from deep roots and coastlines,
Mountaintops and sunshine.
I am from everywhere,
And yet I am nowhere
You’ve ever been
Because I am me.

I am from guitar picks and melodies,
From red and blue and liberty.
I am some of you and some of me.
I am everything there is to be.

And beyond the cover of a book
Are words you’ve probably overlooked.
I am from that:
the white spaces, the black ink.
I am from the words that love and think.
I’m from timeless prose and poetry.

And beyond the day that boasts the sun,
I’m from all the stars you’ve wish upon.
I am from that:
the ebbing moon, a loving God.
I am from the knees we bend down on
And the hands we clasp in prayer.

I am from the layers upon layers
Of faces that have come before.
Because I am you,
And you are me.
I'm from everything
There is to be.

I am the sea of humanity.

Last Moment

2010-09-12T09:48:00.000-07:00

Last Moment
By: K.A. Phinney

And then the tears
Ran from my cheeks
And met the water’s edge
Because the girl I swore
I couldn’t be was
Waiting on the ledge,
In a much closer space
Than I thought she’d ever be,
Waiting for me to fill her.

And all this time,
I dreamed that grief
Was further away than this,
And that your little face,
The one that makes me live,
Would be here much longer
Than it really was.

But I guess I took you for granted
In the smallest moments.
Because all my nightmares,
The ones that promised
you’d be stolen away
And I’d become that sad, crying girl
Were right indeed.

Seems we never know
When we’re in that last moment,
The last one we’d call normal.
The one before pain, death,
And our undoing.
So in that last moment,
We are happily blind
And thoughtless.

It’s the poetry of life, they’d say.
Or, the poetry of death,
When in that last moment,
We never really know
That is exactly what it is.

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And since we never know when that last moment is, let us love each other with all we have in every minute we are given together. And if your loved one is gone already, keep their memory close by cherishing your last moments, for now and for always.

On Eating, Praying, and Loving (Part II)

2010-09-04T09:59:00.000-07:00

Click here to read Part I: On Eating, Praying, and Loving

Dear Friend,

I can tell you’ve been brought down so low, and I see the weight of the world on your shoulders. When you look out the window of your life, I am saddened by your expression of emptiness, as if you see nothing before you that has deeply connected with you. It’s as if you are floating adrift with no anchor. How could you feel that no one really knows you?

But you must know that your inclinations are wrong. When you look out the window, you should see a road that rises up to meet you. You should look for the smiling faces and know you deserve them because you are here, living this life. And you are here for a divine reason because God created you when he could have been creating another universe.

And when you find those smiles, let them welcome you with arms wide open. You deserve to love and to be loved. Loneliness and depression are deceptive entities, and they work tirelessly to keep you away from your destiny. You must leave them in the dust and never come back to them, no matter the hour or the obstacle.

I know you might be surprised, but I also know about some of your secrets. You lay awake at night in fear. Your mind is so good at focusing on what you think you don’t deserve and convincing you that the things you love best will leave you or will be taken away as punishment. Your body is too good at allowing the paralysis of fear to overcome it. And your thoughts are your own slave driver, making you search endlessly for the elusive idea called perfection.

All of this thinking is wrong. You deserve so much better.

Imagine if you saw your friend like this. Imagine if you saw your friend doing these very same things. You know what you’d do. You’d scoop them up with your loving words and hold them in your arms until the last drop of pain fell from them and dried up. You’d tell them they were worthy. You’d tell them that God is their help and their protector. You’d tell them to get some rest. You'd say, “You’re beautiful, inside and out. I love you. Don’t be afraid.”

You know you’d do that… So then why, oh why, won’t you do it for yourself?

I know all these things about you because I am you. And you must know that even when you make mistakes, even when you neglect me or go hiding, I am always here waiting for you. I will never leave your side. I will forgive you 100 times, and I will walk every step of the way with you.

Because I love you.

Every. Single. Part.

Your first and last friend,
Me

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This is a letter I wrote to myself. I was inspired to write it because of my last post and the book Eat, Pray, Love. I commit to reading this letter when my days are hard and when I am not being the friend I should be… to myself. I figure this very letter is what many of you needed to hear too. And maybe it opened your eyes to the struggles many women (and men) have. Or maybe, you’ll write a letter to yourself, and then tuck it away and take that letter out when you need to hear it most.

Infact, I hope you do. Because you deserve it.

Every. Single. Part.

Salt of the Earth

2010-08-25T16:02:00.000-07:00

Salt of the Earth
By K.A. Phinney

For me,
Let me be
The salt of the Earth.

Let me wash off the day
With my needful hands.
Let me slip out of this skin
That narrows my rousing soul
From existing beyond the path.
And while on my knees,
Asking for miracles unceasing,
Let me kiss the ground
And listen for its heartbeat.
And then let me be that—
The heartbeat that is
The Universe.

Let me stretch my fingertips
North toward the blue-bellied sky,
And hold the hands of Heaven.
Let me go beyond the brush
And lose the noise with every step
As I hear Peace before me.
Let me gather water
From the wooded creek
And taste the grainy sweetness
Of the simple life.
Oh, let me be that—
The sublime union that is
The Elements.

So let me be—
Please let me be—
The salt of the Earth.

On Eating, Praying, and Loving (Part I)

2010-08-22T13:23:00.000-07:00

There’s a fine frenzy about this book... You might have heard of it.

It goes by the name Eat, Pray, Love (and yes, the movie’s out right now too). And I can tell you that this book… Well, it’s pretty darn good!

I laughed. I cried. I had my “ah-ha” moments. And then I did it all again. I learned what’s good about eating and praying and loving. Much of which I already knew, but sometimes we need someone to come along and remind us. And if you're like me, sometimes we need life’s messengers to walk right up to us and tap us on the forehead and say, “Hello? Remember?”

But I have to be honest, at this moment I can only think about one tiny part. And in that one part, it is just one quote that won’t leave me alone. It’s on repeat in my mind, and since I traipsed through Italy, India, and Indonesia, it’s all I can think about when I think about Eat, Pray, Love.

I feel like this quote was meant for me. And don’t you just love it when an author is so talented and so timely? It’s as if they knew the future "you" almost intimately, and they decided to sit down and write to your life.

Amidst the journey from her spiritual breakdown to her spiritual epiphany, Elizabeth Gilbert, the author of Eat, Pray, Love, looked in the mirror. And what she found was something most unexpected. And what she found is what I needed to hear:

"So tonight I reach for my journal again. This is the first time I’ve done this since I came to Italy. What I write in my journal is that I am weak and full of fear. I explain that Depression and Loneliness have shown up, and I’m scared they will never leave. I say that I don’t want to take the drugs anymore, but I’m frightened I will have to. I am terrified that I will never really pull my life together.

In response, somewhere from within me, rises a now-familiar presence, offering me all the certainties I have always wished another person would say to me when I was troubled. This is what I find myself writing on the page:

I’m here. I love you. I don’t care if you need to stay up crying all night long. I will stay with you. If you need the medication again, go ahead and take it—I will love you through that, as well. If you don’t need the medication, I will love you, too. There’s nothing you can ever do to lose my love. I will protect you until you die, and after your death I will still protect you. I am stronger than Depression and Braver than Loneliness and nothing will ever exhaust me.

Tonight, this strange interior gesture of friendship—the lending of a hand from me to myself when nobody else is around to offer solace—reminds me of something that happened to me once in New York City. I walked into an office building one afternoon in a hurry, dashed into the waiting elevator. As I rushed in, I caught an unexpected glance of myself in a security mirror’s reflection. In that moment, my brain did an odd thing—it fired off this split-second message: “Hey! You know her! That’s a friend of yours!” And I actually ran forward toward my own reflection with a smile, ready to welcome that girl whose name I had lost but whose face was so familiar. In a flash instant of course, I realized my mistake and laughed in embarrassment at my almost doglike confusion over how a mirror works. But for some reason that incident comes to mind again tonight during my sadness in Rome, and I find myself writing this comforting reminder at the bottom of the page: Never forget that once upon a time, in an unguarded moment, you recognized yourself as a FRIEND…

I fell asleep holding my notebook pressed against my chest, open to this most recent assurance. In the morning when I wake up, I can still smell a faint trace of depression’s lingering smoke, but he himself is nowhere to be seen. Somewhere during the night, he got up and left. And his buddy loneliness beat it, too.”

I can’t get this part out of my mind. And those bold words come together to make the quote I can’t stop thinking about: Never forget that once upon a time, in an unguarded moment, you recognized yourself as a FRIEND….

It’s the crux of the novel. It’s the heart of the message. It’s the crème de la crème. It’s the—Well, you get the point...

We should never forget that in every moment we are our own best friend. There is beauty and power in self-love. Whether we are in the midst of sitting atop a golden mountain or whether we are knee deep in the muck of the darkest valley, it is okay to stop and love ourselves.

In fact, it’s a necessity that we put our arms around ourselves, in the form of a hug, a reminder, or a welcoming. It’s vital we find the things to love about ourselves and ignore the messages of a superficial culture. Because it isn’t until we learn to love the pieces that makes us who we are that we can let genuine outside love in from our God, our lover, our family, and our friends...

And when we let that love in, it multiplies. And when we let that love in, it becomes home.

And isn’t that what this journey is about? Don’t we deserve this intimate friendship? Don’t we deserve to hear the words, “I’m here. I love you. I’ll stay with you” from our own voice?

If you can know just one thing, know this: You are worthy to be loved, and that love starts with you!

Please come back to The Universal Soul for Part II of On Eating, Praying, and Loving…

That Childlike Wonder

2010-08-17T00:00:00.000-07:00

Do you remember when you were a kid and the smallest thing made you happy? You couldn’t wait to shout, “Mommy, look!” or “Daddy, guess what!”

Think about those memories for a minute… I know you’ve got some great ones way back in the corner of your mind…

Are you thinking about it?

I bet it took you a bit to access the feelings you associated with that childlike wonder, and I bet you started to wonder when you stopped feeling that way.

It’s so easy to be consumed by the adult world and its ability to be ridiculously mundane, while in the very same breathe, the adult world has the uncanny ability to be ridiculously exhausting. It’s mundanely exhausting! Or is that exhaustingly mundane?

So what do we do about it? How do we access that childlike wonder?

I think that the key to loving life (the way we did as kids) is to pay very close attention to the details and then revel in them at every turn. We’ve got to forget about the whole “But I’m adult!” rationalization we so frequently use to excuse our stress levels and set ways. We’ve got to make room for loving those little details again.

Where is that childlike wonder?

Hmmm.

I must humbly admit that I haven’t been keeping in touch with my inner child as I should. As I type this admission, I realize that I need to be more cognizant of all the awe-inspiring things that surround my senses. I need to be more aware of the tiny celebrations that pop up everyday. Because lately, I’ve been letting my little mind get a little crazy, and I’ve been worry about things I can’t control. And since my mind can only house a given amount of neurotic thoughts at a time, it’s about time I kick them out on the mean streets so I can make room for the thoughts that make me happy, the thoughts that make life grand.

So what did I love today? What are those awe-inspiring things? What are my tiny celebrations?

(But more importantly for you, what are yours? What brings you joy? What keeps the childlike wonder alive?)

First of all, I love the first sip of a cold drink on a hot summer day. I love how I can feel that cool bubble of liquid travel from my lips, to my tongue, to my throat, and down into my belly. It’s a perfect feeling.

Secondly, I love the way my little white dog wiggles her butt when she runs down the stairs. I am laughing right now because I can see her in my mind's eye. She loves to smile too. So there she is in my memory, wiggling her butt and smiling as she runs down the stairs to greet me with a wet puppy-dog kiss.

I’ve got one more... I love my red couch. I wanted a red couch for years, convincing myself that it would be my muse. Turns out I was right. After a long day at work, I open the window blinds and plop down of my red couch. That late sun comes in, bathing my skin with a light dusting of warmth, and I am extended on my slice of Heaven.

Doesn’t get any better than that.

Reminding myself of those things prompts me to realize that I had a good day, and that no stress is worth diminishing these things. No bad thought is worth entertaining.

So I’ll ask you again... What are the little things you love? What are your tiny celebrations? How do you keep that childlike wonder alive in this mundanely exhausting adult world?

Beyond Front Doors

2010-08-16T16:21:00.000-07:00

“The doors we open and close each day decide the lives we live.” ~Flora Whittemore

Doors are like people.

I don’t know all the reasons why I think this, but I do. I’ve always been fascinated with them, just as I am infinitely fascinated by people. No matter how many people you've met, you can never say you've known them all. The same thing goes for doors.

Perhaps I'm drawn in by doors because of what they represent.

Perhaps it’s because I am nosy, and I am curious; I can’t help but to wonder what’s behind them. Or more specifically, who's behind them...

When I travel, I love to walk around looking at doors and snapping photographs of my favorites. I find myself imagining whose life was led behind them, fully knowing each life is intricate and different from my own. The secrets behind those closed doors are secrets I will never know.

Here are two photographs I took in Charleston, SC.

Each door, especially in homes that have stood hundreds of years, has seen many lifetimes. It has known many people. And each is different from the next. The doors say so much about the time, yet say so little about the lives they protected.

I wonder what my mother's front door says about her... I wonder if it says she loves to garden. Or that she's a cancer survivor. Or that she loves her country and the country mountains.

I wonder what my front door has seen and what it says about my life... Does it say I'm still figuring things out? Does it say I get lonely? Does it say that I'm a dreamer?

Doors are complicated and as unique as we are... They are great secret keepers and protect the dwellers inside like the good friends that they are.

Doors are like people.

But not just any people.

Doors are good people.

Pictures from the Road...

2010-08-09T16:10:00.000-07:00

There's nothing more beautiful and inspirational than being in nature. So naturally, one of my favorite hobbies is photographing nature wherever I go. I just wanted to share some of the many photographs I took on the road this summer. I figured that if they bring me peace and inspiration, then maybe you'd enjoy them too. Also, I will be sharing some of my other journeys in future posts along the way as well.

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Wedding Blues- wedding ceremony floral arrangement at Chatham Bars Inn on Cape Cod... My husband and I were blessed to witness our childhood friend marry his best friend this summer on the beaches of Cape Cod.

First Promise- a beautiful miracle appearing across the majestic mountains of North Carolina...

The rainbow was so bold, perhaps the most pristine rainbow I've ever seen. My family and I all smiled, and then we enjoyed an amazing home-cooked meal thanks to my talented father.

Keep Off Rocks- a sign that can be found on the beaches of Chatham in Cape Cod...

The weather was beautiful, and I have to admit that though I am from Florida, I greatly enjoyed so many beach days in a row with my hubby and friends. And as you folks up north know, the beaches are very different up that way.

Solitude- simple, throwback lifeguard chair on the beaches of Cape Cod...
We came across this spot as we walked the beach that evening after driving home from Province Town. I liked how it looked with the high sand dunes behind it so I snapped this photo.

Sphere- residential trellis right off the beaches of Chatham...
I loved the shadows and the contrast of the blue and white. It was a beautiful day on the beach, and we were now off to get the best lobster rolls in town.

On the Shoreline- taking a break from walking the beach on Chatham to capture the smooth pebbles and shells that washed to the shoreline...
I love this photo because I can see my hubby on the shoreline enjoying the waves as they splash across his feet.

Stairway to Heaven- a bridge so that homeowners could travel over the rocks and onto the their private beaches...
I love this photo because of the angular lines of the bridge and how it looks against the rocks and clear blue sky. Cape Cod, along with its beaches, is a photographically stunning place.

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In My Mother's Garden- The last three photographs are my favorite photos I took in my mother's garden. Every summer I photograph what she's been working on, as her garden is her heaven on Earth. She loves sharing its beauty with others.

The Art of Letting Go

2010-08-04T00:00:00.000-07:00

If I am certain of one thing, I am certain that the mind is a suitcase. And in it we carry around the day's events. We fold up memories and tuck them into the corners. We hide our unmentionables at the bottom, stuffed underneath a stack of less incriminating articles, like our trusty blue jeans and white t-shirts.

And this suitcase travels everywhere. Some things we unload. Some things we hold onto for the next trip, even if the journey doesn’t call for them. Some articles are helpful, while others just weigh us down or hold us up. And when the day’s journey has come to a close, the suitcase of our mind can become overwhelming because we can’t find what we’re looking for because it’s buried underneath a pile of junk we stopped needing years ago. And that pile of junk becomes a real problem.

We start to lose our minds because of the chaos. We’ve complicated our travels because we just can’t seem to let some things go. And because of this, our load just gets heavier and heavier.

You get the metaphor...

I think we all have a list of things that haunt us, packed deep inside our minds. Perhaps they’re should haves and could haves. Perhaps they’re what ifs. Sometimes we stew over a relationship that came to an end. We wonder what we did and why it didn’t work. We play the blame game. We torment ourselves over what was said and what wasn’t said. And then there’re the relationships we’re all in now. We love these people. But they drive us crazy. Why don’t they listen? What were they thinking? We wonder why they do this or why they do that.

The list of mental preoccupations can go on and on and on…

And they do. They keep us up at night. They are the object of our obsessions. They are the catalyst for our bad moods. If we’re ranting and raving… they’re probably what got us started.

I won’t deny I’ve done this… and a lot. But something I’ve recently learned in my quiet time and meditation is that as a simple human being I have very little control over anything other than my own mind. I can’t control traffic lights, my family members, or the state of affairs. Heck, I can’t even control what others think of me; that’s their doing, inside their mind.

And it was with this small epiphany, in which I was reading Wherever You Go, There You Are, that I felt a huge release of tension escape from my chest. I felt relieved! All the things I’ve been packing into my suitcase so that I could analyze and fret over them later shouldn’t be in my suitcase at all! I can kick them to the curb because all that worrying is for naught. I’ve got to let go... and that's OKAY!

And you should too! So what I purpose is that we all make a list of five things we know we’ve been obsessing over, and choose one to let go of today. And if it works, we’ll let go of one more tomorrow… and so on and so forth.

You can do this through prayer, meditation, contemplation, writing, or action… Do whatever suits you. It might take a minute or a day; it may take the month, but that's okay. Just be sure you're letting go of that certain something...

Let go of its torment.

Let go of its weight.

Let go of your expectations and your need to understand and control whatever it is.

We can’t control anything but our thoughts. So let go and revitalize your mind. In return, you’ll be rewarded with a greater sense of peace and wellbeing because if we purge our suitcase of these unneeded articles, we can make room for the things that matter, things that we could actually use in this journey.

As Jon Kabat-Zinn explained, “Letting go means just what it says. It’s an invitation to cease clinging to anything… It is a conscious decision to release with full acceptance into the stream of present moments as they are unfolding. To let go means to give up coercing, resisting, or struggling, in exchange for something more powerful and wholesome which comes out of allowing things to be as they are… It’s akin to letting your palm open to unhand something you have been holding on to…”

So open your hand, release your clutched fingers, and let the things you've clung to the very most go, and let them ride out on the wind. Then sit back and welcome that smile of peace as it crawls across your face, as you watch the fear and regret and anxiety that once gripped you disappear into the air as well.

My Visit with the Enemy: A Body, Mind, and Soul Cleanse (Part II)

2010-06-21T09:29:00.000-07:00

A few days ago, I shared with you all that I was wrestling with a bout of depression for the period I was on a prescription medication to combat an infection I was suffering from.

In just ten days, I could feel my health and vitality, both physically and mentally, unravel, and I learned how easy it was to become depressed and allow that feeling to overtake your body and your life. But the difference for me, which is a great blessing, is that the visit with the enemy was short-lived. I was lucky enough to be on the antibiotics for less than two weeks, and I’ve been able to gather enough knowledge on natural health to effectively combat the imbalances my body was experiencing.

So now, as my time on my medication comes to a close I’ve decided that because it took ten days to fall off the wagon of ideal health, it’s in my best interest to do something radical for the next ten days in order to get back on track physically, mentally, and spiritually.

My objective is to find balance and ultimate health again, and my goal is to continue this journey beyond just ten days.

As all of you know, the body, mind, and spirit are all intrinsically linked, and when one part suffers, the others will inevitably suffer as well, but before I share my plan, I’d like to explain my reasons for sharing this journey to begin with: I want to share my personal cleanse so that I might inspire someone else to do the same (in their own way, of course), and also, I’d like to comfort others in their journey through depression; there are NATURAL ways to combat your pain. And finally, I’d like to share this plan with you all so that I may hold myself accountable.

How it will work: I know the next ten days will be a major challenge, but I’d like to share them with you. I have it set up so that new posts will appear on the blog automatically over the next ten days because I won't be on. However, I will be chronicling my days and experiences on a daily basis, and in ten days I'll share the series, for better or for worse.

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My Personal 10-Day Cleanse (June 22nd-July 1st)

BODY
Daily Physical Activity- Physical activity isn’t just good for the body; it also helps to fight depression, so I’ll be doing one hour of exercise or physical activity a day, which will be in addition to any meditative yoga I will be doing. Physical activity has been proven to fight depression: http://www.webmd.com/depression/guide/exercise-depression.
Daily Vitamins- I will take a Vitamin D, Fish Oil (Omega 3-fatty acid), Vitamin C, and Vitamin E daily in order to fight depression with my nutrition, as cited in these two medical articles: http://www.webmd.com/depression/guide/diet-recovery and http://www.healthy-eating-politics.com/fight-depression.html.
Daily Green Drink- My good friend is a yoga instructor and vegetarian, and she swears that Green Vibrance, a popular green drink, did wonders for her health, both physically and mentally. So I will begin my daily regimen and continue to do this beyond my 10 day cleanse. You can learn more about this here: http://www.sensablehealth.com/wp/2008/06/21/green-vibrance/.

A Pescetarian Diet- The term Pescetarian is used to describe those who abstain from eating all meat and animal flesh with the exception of fish, and there has been research done to show that this particular Mediterranean diet helps combat depression and many other illnesses. This will be a new challenge for me, and I hope to implement it past the ten days. I haven’t eaten read meat in over ten years so I am almost there. I just have to surrender the chicken, Lord help me! You can read more about a Pescetarian diet here: http://www.musclemagfitness.com/nutrition/healthy-eating/pescetarian-diet-for-total-health.html and http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1305214/health_benefits_of_a_pescetarian_diet.html?cat=51.

MIND
Yoga- I will commit to at least 30 minutes of gentle, meditative yoga a day in order to calm my mind, heal my body, and practice meditation.

Writing- I will write daily, both creatively and reflectively. Specifically, I plan to work on my novel and document my journey over the next ten days.
Unplugging- For ten days, I will not watch any television or spend time on the Internet. I will leave my long cell phone chats behind. So that means no Facebook and no surfing the web and no texting. I really believe too much time doing these things can fill our mind with mental toxins, and they keep us from getting out there and living our lives a good deal of the time. They keep us from being in the moment, and I want my focus to be on my friends, family, and spiritual being.
Rethinking- I will work on rejecting negative thoughts and will work on replacing them with positive ones in order to decrease anxiety.

SPIRIT
Meditation/Prayer- During my yoga sessions and before bed, I will commit to spending real time praying and reflecting spiritually on my life and those that populate it. I want to increase my dialogue with God, as well as getting better at just listening.
Nature Focus- I will spend at least one hour outside in nature a day, whether that be via exercise, yoga, or relaxing with a book, a friend, or a family member. And while in nature, I will be present and pay attention to the beautiful details that unite us all.
Read Spiritual Texts- I will, on a daily basis, spend time reading and reflecting on one of several spiritual texts: the Bible, select devotionals, Emerson’s Self Reliance, Wherever You Go There You Are by Jon Kabat-Zinn, and Everyday Grace by Marianne Williamson (to name a few).
Do What I Love- Teaching has one luxury, and that is the summer break. Because of this, I am blessed to focus an extended period of time on doing the things I love that the school year typically suspends. So over the next ten days, I will, on a daily basis, commit myself to stepping outside my old routine and doing the things I love to do like writing, scrapbooking, photography, hiking, playing with my dogs, going on nature walks, and working on my novel.

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SEE YOU IN TEN DAYS!!!!!!!

My Visit with the Enemy (Part I)

2010-06-17T11:59:00.000-07:00

I read on the bottle that one of the side effects was depression. I remember laughing, chuckling to myself, and thinking, That’s for the sad people; it’s not for me.

Then I remember thinking, it’s just ten days. In ten days I’ll be healed of this infection. This drug can’t possibly have any sway over me in that short period of time. It just didn’t seem logical to me, a fiercely logical woman, that years of a strong, healthy lifestyle could be undone in a week and a half of prescription medication.

There’s no way.

But then the investigator in me decided to do a little research on the drug (which shall remain nameless to protect the drug companies) around the web, and what I found was disturbing to say the least.

People called it “poison.” And every type of ailment or reaction I could conjure up in my hypochondriac-of-a-mind was spilling across the computer screen as I scrolled further and further down the page. One person after another explained the physical pain that came to live in their otherwise healthy body and joints. Others meticulously described a tailspin into depression. The most disturbing parts were the accounts that exposed the long-term effects of the drug. Even AFTER getting off this medication, people still experienced the devastating effects of physical aches and depression.

It was only day two, and I was determined, despite the mounting evidence, to stay optimistic...

Well, on day three, the little researcher in me was at it again, and this time I was determined to find out how I could decrease the chances of having these ill side effects. I wanted to be the model patient. So I started digging. And sure enough, I found a laundry list of “do nots.”

First it was “Don’t drink any caffeine because you won’t be able to process it.” Then it was “Don’t have any dairy products because it will induce nausea.” Then it was “Restrain from any physical activity to avoid damage to the tendons and joints.” And following those edicts were “Don’t take pain relievers. Don’t take supplements. Don’t go in the sun.”

So in one fell swoop, I was forced to relinquish everything that made me… well, ME.

I couldn’t garden. I couldn’t revel in my morning cup of joe. No yoga. No exercise. No bike rides. No going to the beach, swimming at the pool, or reading in the sun. No daily vitamins or supplements… "No, no, no," was I could hear.

Despite my efforts, by day five I was dragging and aching all over my body. My joints were stiff and popping. I had never felt this type of aching lethargy before. Lucky me; I was in that minute “1%” of patients that would react in such a way.

And by day six, I was depressed. Yes, I said it... Depressed! I couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed. I kept my blinds drawn. For fear of what, I do not know. I couldn’t bring myself to see my friends, so I canceled plans with lame excuses. What was I going to say to them? “I’m sorry, but I am really depressed right now”? That wasn’t going to happen.

And then the lack of control set in. For no reason, I felt like I could cry, and I did. For what exactly, I didn’t really know. When I looked in the mirror, I saw a grayish, drawn girl that resembled me, but she wasn't me. My poor husband looked at me as if someone had come along and sucked his wife right out of her body during the night. Even when he was home from work, I still just wanted to be alone.

And in all of this alone time, I started thinking about the warning on that darn bottle again. Here I was, thinking just eight days before, that this warning about depression was just for the sad people. But now it all made perfect sense. In ten day’s time, when someone is stripped of all the healthy things that make them vibrant, and that lifestyle is replaced with a man-made prescription drug, of course the side effects are going to be depressing. Of course we aren’t going to have an overall sense of wellbeing.

I wasn't different from anyone else. Depression was knocking at my door. He was settling in at my kitchenette. He was resting on my pillow.

In just ten days, he was making himself quite at home. And he was starting to undo me...

But trust me, I am determined that this is just a visit. I am outing him now; I'm opening the blinds and letting the sun in. My bout with this nuisance will go down in my history book as a personal victory. Because unlike so many sufferers, my ten days are over today. The foreigner will be out of my body and out of my house in 24 hours. And to be SURE of this, I have a plan to heal myself…

I have a very good plan indeed…

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A Personal Note:

I decided to share this very personal story about myself for a few reason.

First, I share this story with you on the tale-end of our “Journey from Darkness to Light” series. It was perfect timing that my good friend Nihcole shared her three part series. And from the reactions and the discussions on our Facebook community, I know it’s touched more people than just me. So thank you to Nihcole and our readers for giving me the courage to share this.

Also, in sharing this, I hope everyone sees how easy it is to become depressed, and that if they are depressed, that they are not alone. There are so many people who love you and there are so many natural tools, as Nihcole shared, that can lift you up out of your depression.

And finally, I wanted everyone to understand why I am doing what I am going to do next. I have a plan to get myself back on track, and I’d like to share that journey with you all, and I thought it would be strange to share the journey without sharing the origins of its inception.

So please stay tuned…

A Journey from Darkness to Light: One Woman's Journey out of Depression (Part III-B of III)

2010-06-16T13:40:00.000-07:00

In this three part series, one of our avid TUS readers (with a background in mental health) shares with us her journey through anxiety and depression and how she found peace in natural remedies. Perhaps this story is yours. If you are struggling with anxiety and depression or know someone close to you that is, please share this series.

If you are just joining us, please read Part I here: http://theuniversalsoul.blogspot.com/2010/05/journey-from-darkness-to-light-one.html.
And you can read Part II here: http://theuniversalsoul.blogspot.com/2010/06/journey-from-darkness-to-light-one.html.
Part III-A can be read here: http://theuniversalsoul.blogspot.com/2010/06/journey-from-darkness-to-light-one_15.html.

Disclaimer: And please keep in mind that though Ms. Chartier has a background in mental health and is very informed, citing all her resources, she is not a physician. Please consult your physician if you are dealing with depression or find a professional in natural remedies and homeopathy to help you. Thank you.

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Part III-B

By: N. Chartier

Change Your Lifestyle, Change Your Life

So far in this series, I have shared what triggered me to seek psychiatric care, how antidepressants affected me and changed my life, and the natural cures I rely on day-to-day that have drastically improved my stressed moods and depression. Now, I would like to focus for a few minutes on some of the other ways to help improve your quality of life and therefore, your emotions. Combating depression and anxiety naturally can be done. I am living proof that it is possible. But, it requires more than just taking a handful of supplements every day. It requires changing the way you think, what you eat, how you live your life, and who you associate with among other things. Depression can be a serious problem for some, but for most people, by establishing a healthy lifestyle and incorporating the supplements I previously mentioned, living life depression free naturally is not only possible, it is probable. Here are few other changes you can make in your life to not only help combat depression and anxiety, but to improve your quality of life over all:

• I know I have said it before and now I am going to say it again: Exercise! Exercising does more than just burn calories and boost your heart rate; it also helps to improve your mood because physical activity stimulates the “feel-good” chemicals in our brains, like endorphins, which leaves us feeling more relaxed and energized than before we worked out. Plus, exercise helps to boost our self-esteem, too.

• Eat organically as often and as much as possible. If you are on a budget, find out which foods are the most important ones to eat organically and only buy those. For example, foods with thin skin, such as tomatoes, absorb more mood killing, harmful pesticides than their thick skin counterpart, the pineapple. Also, try purchasing your fruits and vegetables from local farmers markets. Locally grown fruits and veggies are typically not genetically modified and are not treated with nearly as much pesticides as their big-company counterparts.

• Eat Protein. Protein sources such as turkey, chicken, beef, eggs and dairy are the best natural sources of the 26 essential amino-acids, particularly tryptophan, which helps to improve mood and sleep. I try to eat a protein source in every single meal.

• Eliminate or reduce your intake of bad mood foods like alcohol, tobacco, excessive amounts of caffeine, starchy carbs, sweets, candy, and soda. It’s okay to drink a cup of hot tea or coffee in the morning, but if you are relying on 8 cups to get you through the day, you could be doing a lot more damage to your mood than you know. Sugary and starchy foods spike up our blood sugar and give us a temporary energy or mood boost, however, when our blood sugar plummets after eating these foods, we are left feeling lethargic and depressed. Alcohol, as many of us know, is a depressant. Drinking alcohol at night prevents us from falling to quality and restful REM sleep, which leaves us feeling tired and depressed the next day.

• Drink water! Purified by reverse osmosis, and lots of it! Dehydration causes headaches and can leave us feeling depressed and lethargic. Try to drink between eight to ten glasses throughout the day. If you do, you might actually find that you won’t need that 3 p.m. coffee anymore.

• Get at least 10 to 20 minutes of sunlight each day. The vitamin D we get from spending about 20 minutes in the sun is enough to boost our mood instantly. While everyone else at your office is having a 5 minute smoke break, go take a 5 minute sunlight break for a quick mood booster.

• Spend at least 15 minutes a day alone with your own thoughts. Better yet, start a journal and spend 15 minutes each day writing down your thoughts. It will help make you more aware of what triggers certain emotions and will also help you to clear your mind by getting negative thoughts out of your system rather than harboring them.

• Connect with someone. Feeling blue? Call up a good, reliable friend or sit down and write a letter to a friend or family member. Having someone to talk to and who will listen to you, even if they have no advice to offer, improves bad moods drastically.

• Avoid people/situations that are negative. Limit the amount of time you spend with friends or family members who have a tendency to bring your mood down. Whether these are people who unintentionally (or deliberately) hurt your feelings and make you feel bad about yourself, or if these are those people who overwhelm you with their never-ending, emotionally draining drama, try to reduce the amount of time you spend with people who often leave you feeling bad or emotionally drained afterwards. You don’t have to avoid friends and family all together who tend to make you feel bad, but at least set a time limit and stick to it.

• Find something or someone to care for. I read somewhere years ago (I can’t remember where) that people who have either a pet or a simple house plant that needs watering are less likely to commit suicide than those who don’t have anything to take care of. Having something to take care of, or knowing someone or something relies on you day to day for survival can drastically improve your quality of life and can increase self worth.

There is Hope

For some people, I am sure, depression is debilitating. It can cripple our ability to function and hinder our desire to live a fulfilling life. Depression can leave us feeling hopeless, unworthy, guilty, and uninterested in life in general. It takes its toll both physically and emotionally. But, it does not have to be that way anymore. Every day we are bombarded by pharmaceutical companies with commercials for drugs that will “cure” our depression and that will change our lives for the better. What many people fail to realize is that just like any business, psychiatry and “Big Pharma” have one goal: to increase the number of people taking mood altering drugs in order to increase their profits. What many people don’t know is that antidepressants carry “black box” warnings which indicate that the drug that is supposed to be treating the depression can actually cause the people taking them to commit suicide. That very fact is what led me to get off antidepressants entirely and steered me in the direction of natural alternatives. What I found is that the natural alternatives I use have no side effects what-so-ever, and are far more effective (and far less expensive) than the antidepressants that were literally making me suicidal at times and emotionally numb at others. I truly hope that my message touches at least one person and encourages others to explore alternatives to the harmful pharmaceutical antidepressants. Now that I am no longer taking pharmaceutical antidepressants I am happy. I can feel excitement again. I no longer have deep spells of depression and suicidal thoughts. I am motivated again. I no longer battle with the side effects I felt while taking medications and my quality of life and my mood has changed drastically. I am finally free…

Recommended Reading:

The Mood Cure by Julia Ross, M.A.

Creating Optimism: A Proven, Seven-Step Program for Overcoming Depression by Bob Murray, Ph.D. and Alicia Fortinberry, M.S.

Comfortably Numb: How Psychiatry is Medicating a Nation by Charles Barber

Natural Cures They Don’t Want You to Know About by Kevin Trudeau

http://articles.mercola.com/sites/articles/archive/2010/06/12/glaxo-testing-paxil-on-7yearolds-despite-suicide-risks.aspx

http://www.naturalnews.com/026801_magnesium_Vitamin_D_chronic_pain.html.

A Journey from Darkness to Light: One Woman's Journey out of Depression (Part III-A of III)

2010-06-15T15:34:00.000-07:00

If you are just joining us, please read Part I here: http://theuniversalsoul.blogspot.com/2010/05/journey-from-darkness-to-light-one.html.

And you can read Part II here: http://theuniversalsoul.blogspot.com/2010/06/journey-from-darkness-to-light-one.html.

Disclaimer: And please keep in mind that though Ms. Chartier has a background in mental health and is very informed, citing all her resources, she is not a physician. Please consult your physician if you are dealing with depression or find a professional in natural remedies and homeopathy to help you. Thank you.

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Part III-A

By: N. Chartier

Cardiologist, Physician and recipient of the Presidential Medal of Freedom, Dr. Paul Dudley White once said, “A vigorous five-mile walk will do more good for an unhappy but otherwise healthy adult than all the medicine and psychology in the world.” It sounds cliché, however, it is so true! Many of us don’t have the time to fit a five-mile walk in to our day, I certainly don’t, but I do make time every single day to get in some sort of exercise. Whether it be a relaxing walk around the block once or twice in the evening, an intense interval training session on the elliptical, or five minutes of bouncing on a trampoline, I always make time for a simple workout. The endorphins our bodies produce while exercising are a natural antidepressant. In this final part of this series, I will share how I was able to get off the medications that were robbing me of my feelings, and I will also share the natural remedies that I have integrated into a healthy lifestyle.

My Journey Getting off Antidepressants

I do so much to be healthy; I eat organically, exercise, and take vitamins. So why would I want to continue poisoning myself with medications that were literally making me sick? After I had my daughter, I began seeing my life (and my emotions) from a new perspective. I started to research alternatives to the antidepressants I was taking. I no longer wanted to be a slave to the medication. I was at a point where I felt it was safe to begin exploring the idea of weaning off the SNRI again. Additionally, I was fed up with my psychiatrist trying to convince me to increase my dose each visit when I knew I did not need it. I was less depressed taking only 75mg of the antidepressant than I was taking 150mg, which is the opposite of what one would expect, and a blatant indication that the SNRI simply was not doing what it was supposed to be doing.

I knew that I needed to wean off the meds slowly and chose to do so without my psychiatrist’s supervision (something I do NOT recommend doing. If you plan to wean off your current antidepressant, ask your doctor how to do so appropriately. If your doctor is not sure how, or discourages you from doing so, find a doctor who will help you wean off safely). I researched the web hoping to find a site with guidance on how to safely wean of an SNRI. I found a message board with an antidepressant forum: http://www.topix.com/forum/drug/effexor . I read through countless posts by people going through the same thing I went through. It was so eye-opening to read that others had the same withdrawal experience trying to get off antidepressants as I had. Amongst all the posts about other people’s experiences, were also posts about how to taper off the drugs and recommendations for what supplements help with withdrawal symptoms. Additionally, I bought the book The Mood Cure by Julia Ross, M.A., a book dedicated to offering all natural and safe alternatives to improving mood and quality of life. I also borrowed a book from the library called Comfortably Numb: How Psychiatry is Medicating a Nation by Charles Barber, which exposes how pharmaceutical companies create the need for a drug then rushes the FDA to approve it, and it explains how Americans are under pressure to medicate themselves. Armed with the information I learned from these resources and a few others, I began my journey towards living life medication and depression free.

After spending hours reading through years of posts by people on the forum discussing how they weaned off potent and addictive antidepressants, I decided to cut all my antidepressant tablets in half. Then I took half of those half tablets and cut them in to fourths and cut half of the fourths in to eighths. I started my taper by going down to three fourths of a tablet for two weeks, then half a tablet for two weeks, then one fourth for two weeks, and finally one eighth for two weeks. It was by far the most difficult two months of my life. I experienced painful withdrawals such as brain zaps, a strange sensation which makes your head feel like it is being electrocuted. My joints were so stiff and achy that I couldn’t stand up straight or walk first thing in the morning and after getting up from sitting. I had severe depression and crying spells over nothing. I was easily angered and suffering insomnia.

I learned from the message board that taking Magnesium Malate and high potency Omega-3 fish oil helps to alleviate some of the withdrawal symptoms. I went to the vitamin store and purchased bottles of both. Magnesium is a natural anti-inflammatory as well as a pain reliever. I took 1,250mg of Magnesium Malate up to three times a day depending on how I felt. It helped me tremendously with muscle and joint pain. I also took 1,200mg of Omega-3 fish oil with DHA which helped to minimize the severity of those annoying “brain zaps” I described earlier and also works as a natural antidepressant. After two months of decreasing my antidepressant dose and taking these supplements, I was finally free of antidepressants. I have been completely off antidepressants for three months now, and I have never felt better.

My “Secrets” to Living Life Depression-free Naturally

Truthfully, what I am about to share with you is not really a secret at all (although the FDA and “Big Pharma” would probably like it to be). The remedies I use to maintain my emotional health and well-being are natural, affordable, abundant, effective, and some of them are even free! For instance, the sun is free, and it is abundant and is one of my favorite “cures” for a bad mood or depression. The quotable Astrid Alauda stated once that “The sun is nature’s Prozac.” Each day, first thing in the morning, I open all of the blinds in my house to let in the sunlight. Some mornings, I get caught up feeding the baby and forget to do it right away, and I’ll catch myself feeling a little glum. Then I open my blinds and feel a world of difference in terms of my mood.

Unfortunately for many of us simply opening the blinds is not enough to help boost our mood, which is why I also rely on supplements to keep my anxiety and depression in check. The Mood Cure by Julia Ross, M.A. taught me which supplements work for certain mood categories. I rely heavily on this book, refer to it on a weekly basis, and highly recommend it to anyone; from those who experience the occasional blues, to those who suffer from more severe depression. The Mood Cure shares information about natural antidepressant remedies, such as SAMe, 5-HTP, St. Johns Wort, Tryptophan, GABA and Melatonin, and provides instructions on how to take these supplements as well as when to stop taking them. For the sake of keeping this part of the series from becoming too cumbersome, I will only go in to detail discussing the supplements I take:

5-HTP-5 hydroxy-tryptophan is a naturally occurring amino acid and is the precursor to serotonin. It is converted from tryptophan, a protein building-block, and is transformed in to serotonin by our bodies. It is also an important brain chemical that influences mood, behavior, appetite, and sleep. Sometimes we do not get enough tryptophan from the foods we eat (eggs, beef, poultry, turkey and dairy products) therefore, our bodies have a more difficult time producing serotonin, which can lead to depression. 5-htp is also useful for combating headaches, carbohydrate cravings, obesity, fibromyalgia and insomnia basically side effect free. Relief from depression can be felt within minutes of taking a 5-htp supplement. I take 100mg of 5-htp every morning, and depending on my mood and whether I am having trouble falling asleep, I might also take 100mg at night, too. You can purchase 5-htp in supplement form from any health food store or vitamin shop. Source: The Mood Cure, Julia Ross. M.A. Pages: 26-7, 42-44 and 235-36.

GABA- Gamma-aminobutyric acid is an amino acid, or building block of protein, and is a “potent mood enhancer”, according to Julia Ross, M.A. (The Mood Cure, P.89). Taking GABA in supplement form has the same effect on the brain as taking a benzodiazepine because it is what biochemists refer to as an “inhibitory neurotransmitter”, a chemical which turns off the brain’s reaction to stress. Our bodies produce GABA naturally, but too much stress can deplete our natural supply of GABA leaving us feeling overwhelmed and stressed. Whenever I feel stressed or anxious, I take one 750mg GABA tablet and feel relief within a half hour. GABA can also be taken before an event which you know might be stressful and will actually prevent the person taking it from becoming too anxious or stressed. If you find that you are getting really sleepy after taking GABA, you are taking too much of it. GABA can be found in health food stores and vitamin shops in the same section where you will find 5-htp, St. John’s Wort, SAMe, and other mood enhancing supplements. Source: The Mood Cure, Julia Ross M.A. Pages: 89 & 90.

Magnesium- Magnesium is a soothing and relaxing mineral that protects us from conditions associated with insomnia, depression, stress, anxiety, anger, heart attack, Alzheimer’s disease, constipation, low blood sugar, diabetes, chronic fatigue, low thyroid, PMS, osteoporosis and also encourages serotonin production, according to Julia Ross, M.A. (The Mood Cure, P.195 and 234) There are so many reasons to take a magnesium supplement. I prefer to take Magnesium Malate, which is a combination of magnesium and malic acid, because it helps with pain in addition to working as an antidepressant. I take 1,200mg in the evening because I find that not only does it help relieve the back pain I feel at the end of a long day of carrying and lifting my baby, it also helps me fall asleep quickly at bedtime. Since muscular tension and pain are often associated with stress and depression, I believe it is important to make sure you are getting enough magnesium if you suffer from depression or anxiety. For more information about how magnesium can help relieve chronic pain, refer to http://www.naturalnews.com/026801_magnesium_Vitamin_D_chronic_pain.html. Source: The Mood Cure, Julia Ross M.A. Pages: 195-96 and 243.

Fish Oil- Fish oil supplements are loaded with the important brain protecting fat, Omega-3. Omega-3 fats help protect our brains, arteries, and digestive lining and are also extraordinarily effective antidepressants. And, the more omega-3 we have, the more depression-fighting dopamine our bodies produce. It helps to improve our mental and physical alertness, as well. Grass-fed beef, many types of fish, eggs and flaxseed are all great sources of heart-healthy, mood boosting omega-3 fats. I take 1,800mg of omega-3 fish oil with DHA and EPA every day. One thing to watch out for when taking/eating omega-3 rich supplements and foods is that you are not also getting too much of the bad mood omega-6 fats. Source: The Mood Cure, Julia Ross M.A. Pages: 149-50 & 197.

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In Part III-B Ms. Chartier will share lifestyle changes that can dramatically improve your mental health, along with her conclusion and recommended reads. Don't miss it!

The Illuminated World of Rumi

2010-06-14T14:32:00.000-07:00

I love Rumi, and I love modern technology. And together, the possibilities are endless. When I need some spiritual guidance or inspiration, I go searching for one of our most ancient poets on the World Wide Web. It's funny how that is.

Anyway, I came across some beautiful words and images. And to say that they are inspiring is an understatement. The words are the great Rumi's. The images were conjured up to embody his illuminated world. And together they are transcendent. And if you like this post, please check out my last Rumi post here: Words of Wisdom from the Illuminated Rumi. Please enjoy them all as I did...

I'm a Survivor!

2010-06-09T12:06:00.000-07:00

Back in March, I was contacted by a very strong, gifted
woman. Michelle Smith has an amazing story to tell, and she tells it through her deeply touching poetry. If you or someone you love has been affected by cancer, this is a post for you.

Reading her poetry brought tears to my eyes, and it especially touched me because my mother is an ovarian cancer survivor, but sadly my grandmother died of breast cancer when I was 13. I think we all have these stories, ones of triumph and ones of loss.

So please, sit back and be touched by this cancer survivor’s tale. And by all means, share her powerful words with the loved ones in your life that struggle with this horrible disease.

Michelle’s first poem, “Way Beyond,” is about her wonderful husband who carried her through her entire ordeal. Michelle’s second poem, “I am not BC,” is her personal battle-cry against cancer and her proud attempt to reclaim her identity during the process.

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Way Beyond

He, a man I thought was detached
A man who spends his time in his head
One who makes little room for people or for fun
Turns out it is He who has been most present

A pillar of strength on his outside, pained and anguished on his inside
Watching his beloved’s body emerge from Frankenstein’s chamber.
Hoping that she can still find it in her to fight

He is her strength, her hope, her everything.
He carries her when she is weak
He feeds her when she cannot eat
He gives her good lines when she cannot think

And when she lashes out at him, He doesn’t blink
He loves her way beyond.

Copyright Michelle Smith 2009

I am not BC

I don’t want to say breast cancer, so I say BC
I don’t want to feel it, taste it, cry it
But I join the millions of brave women who have to
Who swallow their pride when they lose their hair, their femininity taken from them.
I join those who buy scarves, wigs, hats and prosthesis just to go through a day of normal.

I try to remember that the baldness is temporary, but it feels permanent;
I try to remember that I can reconstruct the breasts, but it will take forever;
I try to have the energy to make through the chemicals and pain; but I don’t feel as strong as I should.

I look for the beauty in BC and see it in the strength of the people around me;
And I look forward to a still day when I have energy and I remember who I am.
I am not BC

Copyright Michelle Smith 2009

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About the Author:

Michelle Smith is a beautiful 51 years old. She is a mother of three daughters and a grandmother of six grandbabies. Yes, six! She’s been with her loving husband for 32 years. She is very unique, in that she is a second degree Reiki, an artist, a poet, and a social worker who works with teen parents.

Sadly, Michelle was diagnosed with breast cancer in May of 2009 and had to have a double mastectomy to save her life on June 17, 2009. In the following months, she endured chemotherapy treatments until November of 2009 and is currently taking Herceptin treatments until July 2010 to fight the good fight. Michelle loves new challenges, and she has recently taken up the electric bass guitar and is living "in the moment," as she enjoys her friends and family…

And do you want to know the best news? Michelle is currently CANCER FREE!

The Unexpected Apology

2010-06-09T00:00:00.000-07:00

In the past month, God has been working overtime to show me something.

As many of you know, I teach high school English and journalism. To say that working with teenagers is a challenge would be the understatement of the year. They are small adults, but much of their choices can be careless; their actions can be very hurtful. So, being your resident softy, I am often cut to the core by some of their decisions. I know I strive to look tough on the outside at my job, but on the inside, I am literally… mush.

There! I said it. Mush! M-U-S-H!

In one of my first years of teaching, a senior of mine on the yearbook staff really, really hurt me. I entrusted her with a lot. I invested in her. I connected with her, but when the chips were down, she fell apart. And in the aftermath, she quit the course without notifying me, and then proceeded to make some very hurtful decisions. I won’t go into details out of respect for her and the fact that once upon a time she was my student…

Well three years went by… and as time often does, it healed many of my wounds over those incidents, and to be honest, the experiences made me a much wiser teacher and tougher person when it came to the letdowns of my job.

So, I was staying late one day to clean my classroom and grade copious essays on the historical context of Harper Lee’s timeless novel, To Kill a Mockingbird. And to my surprise, I heard a little knock and saw a vaguely familiar face in my classroom door’s window…

It a moment’s time, events from a forgotten past came rushing back. I know my reception of this young woman, who was now 21, was a little reserved. I was nervous as to why she was standing in my classroom after all that we’d been through.

Right away, she began speaking. “I know you’re shocked to see me. I wouldn’t blame you after everything I put you through, but I came by today to tell you I am sorry for everything. A lot has been happening in my life, and I’ve been thinking about what I did to you for a long, long time, and I’m sorry.”

There it was. The words I only wished for three years ago. The words I accepted that I’d never hear. But I was hearing them all. And immediately, God softened my heart. My reserved posture became more welcoming, and my washed-out face from the shock regained its color.

She continued on, explaining herself, her mistakes, her sorrow. I could just stand there and listen, and when she was done, I was ready to respond.

“Sarah*,” I said, “Thank you for your apology. Of course I forgive you.”

I told her that she was very brave for coming here to tell me this. I told her that I respected her courage and candor. We talked for a bit more, and then she left.

And I was left with total peace...

When people hurt us we want to hear “I’m sorry.” We want them to own up to what they’ve done. And most often, those words come late, or they don’t come at all.

Can we be okay with this? Can we move on?

This past month, I've learned two things on this subject. 1) If the apology never comes, I must find a way to forgive anyway and 2) If the apology doesn’t come in a timely manner, perhaps hours or days after the injury, it doesn’t mean it’s not coming at all. We must be patient with the people that hurt us because their apology is often the result of their own personal journey and evolution. Apologies, sincere ones at least, can’t come when our enemies are in their original state. They must come after the fact.

And we, being the ones harmed, must take the higher road and recognize the limits of our enemies. That’s a jagged pill to swallow, I know. It's not easy to accept because we want so badly for justice to prevail in the very moment we determine it should show up. We have a strong sense of what's right and just.

But forgiveness is more powerful than justice. Forgiveness is a tool that allows us to let go. It gives us the strength to show mercy and love by freeing the person who did us wrong if we choose to do so. Forgiveness, as I once read, is a gift we give ourselves.

So for me, I know that I need to remember that no matter how badly I am hurt by someone—and in the past couple of months that’s been a lot—I have the power to forgive, and I have the wisdom to understand that though the apology is delayed or never even comes, I can still forgive for myself.

I have to be honest: normally I am the one teaching my students, but this time it was a former student's unexpected apology that taught me a thing or two about life.

*name of student was changed

POETography: Observations

2010-06-08T00:00:00.000-07:00

click on image to enlarge

POETography is when you post what you're thinking in words, phrases, stories, or poetry about the photograph above. It can be whatever comes to your mind. It can be a personal memory...

So what do you think? Comment here or at our Facebook page (http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Universal-Soul/175779326361?ref=ts#!/pages/The-Universal-Soul/175779326361?ref=ts) with your thoughts, words, or poetry.

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As before, I've will post my response in the comments section to get the ball rolling. Check it out and post your own... Don't be a stranger! ;)
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Last Month's POETography:
http://theuniversalsoul.blogspot.com/2010/05/poetography-on-bridge.html

April's POETography:
http://theuniversalsoul.blogspot.com/2010/04/poetography-alone-and-thinking.html

March’s POETography:
http://theuniversalsoul.blogspot.com/2010/03/poetography-man-and-woman.html

February's POETography:
http://theuniversalsoul.blogspot.com/2010/02/poetography-whats-she-thinking.html

January's POETography:
http://theuniversalsoul.blogspot.com/2010/01/poetography-haiti-dark-and-rolling.html

A Journey from Darkness to Light: One Woman’s Journey out of Depression (Part II of III)

2010-06-06T16:08:00.000-07:00

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PART II
By: N. Chartier

“Depressed? Of course we’re all depressed. We’ve been so quickly, violently and irreconcilably plucked from nature, from physical labor, from kinship and village mentality, from every natural and primordial antidepressant. The further society ‘progresses’, the grander the scale of imbalance. Just as fluoride is put in water to prevent dental caries, we’ll soon find the government mandating Prozac in our water to prevent mental caries”- M. Robin D’ Antan

Disclaimer: Drug types are used rather than brand names of the actual medications in order to protect the drug companies.

I began suffering severe anxiety attacks after I graduated college and dealt with it the only way I knew how; drinking after work and on the weekends, crying while getting ready for work each day, and faking it. I did everything I could to hide the fact that I was suffering on the inside so that I wouldn’t have to talk about it because I was tired of being asked, “What do you have to be depressed about? Why do you worry so much?” It was as if I wasn’t justified in feeling the way I did. Through work and through my education I learned that worrying becomes a “disorder” when it starts affecting your daily life and when you start rearranging your life around your anxiety or worry. I definitely fit in that “disorder” category.

I finally received my insurance six months into my career and immediately began searching for a psychiatrist in my area who accepted my insurance plan. Once I found one, I scheduled an appointment right away. I was told I would be seeing an Advanced Registered Nurse Practitioner (ARNP) named Betty. I questioned whether I should be seeing the actual psychiatrist. However, I was informed that ARNP’s see most of the patients in the practice and that I had nothing to worry about.

The day of my appointment came, and I arrived as nervous as ever. But I was eager to meet my ARNP, Betty, and find out how she could help me. She spent approximately 15 or 20 minutes asking me general questions about my life, my anxiety, depression, work environment and relationships. I explained that I had been having panic attacks and that my anxiety had impacted me to the point that it was extremely difficult to leave the house. She looked at me and said, “You’re depressed. I can see it in your eyes. You look sad.” Puzzled, I looked at her with all due respect and questioned, really?

I had never thought of myself as a “depressed” person. I knew I was a neurotic, anxiety-ridden mess, but rarely depressed. I explained that I only get depressed after I spend hours worrying over nothing. Betty told me about a popular Selective Serotonin and Norepinephrine Reuptake Inhibitor or SNRI, and told me it combats depression, anxiety, panic attacks, and Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. She also told me success stories about other patients who took this particular SNRI and really sold me on it (without, of course, telling me any of the bad things, like side effects). In addition, she gave me a prescription for a benzodiazepine (benzo) used to treat the onset of anxiety on an as needed basis.

I left her office excited to finally have the solution to my problem in hand. I drove to the closest pharmacy to have my prescriptions filled. Right away, I took one of the half-milligram benzo tablets and then read through all of the warnings and instructions on both medications. I decided I would start taking the SNRI the next morning. Little did I know that by starting these medications, I was headed down a path of isolation, major depression, suicidal ideation, “needing” several additional medications, and a trip to the emergency room.

The first month taking the medications was great. I had less anxiety, and I was actually excited about meeting my neighbors and going out again. Unfortunately though, the relationship I was in ended around the same time I went back for my second appointment. I was suffering situational depression, something completely normal, but was told to deal with it by taking more medicine! My ARNP doubled my dose of the SNRI from 75mg to 150mg, doubled my dose of the benzo, plus added another anti-anxiety medication. I had only been taking the medications for a month, and I was told it takes about 6-12 weeks for the medications to achieve their therapeutic effect, so I had hope my mood would improve with time.

Several weeks passed while I continued on the medications. I quickly reached a point of not being able to care about anything. I became more depressed, and the medications numbed my ability to feel happy. It inhibited my sense of control and my ability to care about myself and the things that were always important to me. By November of that year I was too depressed to go see my family for Thanksgiving and instead stayed alone in my apartment in Naples, which was SO out of character for me. My depression was getting worse but I could not understand it because I was taking a heavy dose of an antidepressant plus two anti-anxiety medications.

I went back to see the ARNP and told her that I was having horrible spells of deep depression; it worse than anything I had before starting the medicine so she added a second antidepressant medication to my regimen. I was now taking four medications, but guess what? My depression kept getting worse. I went through bouts of depression mixed with what I would call my baseline mood, which was a “blah” sort of state of going through the motions. I wasn’t happy by any means. I wasn’t sad in between my spells of major depression either. I just wasn’t ME. I only existed as time passed me by.

A point in time came when it was becoming too expensive to keep up with my medications each month so I asked about a more affordable alternative. Plus, the SNRI obviously wasn’t working. Betty prescribed a different antidepressant, a Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitor, or SSRI, and gave me a weaning schedule for the SNRI. I would slowly taper off the SNRI while integrating the SSRI. The morning after my first day only taking the SSRI, I was in the emergency room. I had severe withdrawal from the original antidepressant and a bad reaction to the new one. I was physically and psychologically tortured, and I wanted to die. I don’t know if I would have lived through it if I didn’t have my roommate take me to the hospital.

The psychiatrist from Betty’s office came to see me at the hospital and put me right back on 150mg of the original SNRI, and I was monitored there for five days. The meds were so sedating that at one point my blood pressure read 70/37! After this experience, the reality set in that I might have to take this medication for the rest of my life.

The months came and went, and I continued to take my psychotropic cocktail as instructed. I functioned as best as I could. I had bouts of severe depression unlike anything I had prior to taking medications. Instead of seeing the nurse practitioner, the Psychiatrist decided she would start seeing me now for my appointments. My appointment times got shorter. Meaningful questions about how I was feeling were fewer. My appointments became about the psychiatrist trying to convince me to increase my dosages. I began to wonder what stake she had in me taking more medication. Nearly two years later I would find that out when I read the book Comfortably Numb: How Psychiatry is Medicating a Nation by Charles Barber. But, prior to that point, I continued to take the meds and my health began to deteriorate.

In addition to an increase in depression severity, I also developed a number of health problems. I was diagnosed with Vertigo. I had night sweats, restless legs, tremors, exhaustion, memory loss, stiff muscles, a tight jaw, increased suicidal thoughts and ideation, a loss of the ability to find pleasure in anything, the inability to feel sad when appropriate, and so on. My hands shook so much that I couldn’t hold a drink without spilling it half of the time. I was no longer myself, and my family was noticing.

About a year after I tried to wean off the SNRI for the first time, I found out I was pregnant. I immediately stopped taking the benzos and began to wean off the antidepressant, again, under my Psychiatrist’s supervision. Within 3 days of not taking it, I was forced to start taking it again because the withdrawal symptoms were tremendous and unbearable. I couldn’t eat. I was having “brain zaps.” I could not concentrate. My joints ached. I began to do research and scheduled another appointment with the Psychiatrist. I was told that withdrawals can actually be worse on the unborn baby than taking the medication, so I continued to take a low dose throughout my pregnancy. Thankfully, my daughter was born healthy but the guilt I felt for taking the drug while pregnant was immense. My doctor wanted to increase my dose back to 150mg after my daughter was born in order to prevent post partum depression, which I wouldn’t agree to because I wasn’t depressed. It was at this point that I began to see psychiatry as a business, and I began researching natural alternatives…

My Crazy Dream

2010-06-06T00:00:00.000-07:00

There’s something about being forced to be still. Alone in bed. Alone and still. It’s really quite phenomenal how quickly you start to hear your own voice, and how you start to recognize it. And how you start to piece all your thoughts and feelings together.

It’s phenomenal how quickly your walls come down when you’re just reading, thinking, and writing. When you’re alone...

Tonight, I am typing, and right now what I am writing is a secret from the entire Universe. But in time, I’ll edit these words. I will determine if they are fit to share, and in a day’s time, you—whoever you are and wherever you hail from—will be reading them. And what you will be thinking and doing when you receive these words will remain a complete mystery.

You may become bored and stop reading right here. You may be nodding your head because you know exactly what I mean when I speak about the power of solitude. Or, you may be along for the ride because you just happened to stumble across this place.

My mind is a whirlwind at the moment. I think every age brings new hurdles to soar over (or perhaps crash into), but where I am right now is surely a tall and endless set of hurdles, all of which demand major decisions before I leap over them. It seems the decisions of your twenties can be so definitive. In that decade, people may choose to become college graduates and set out to do their life’s work, whatever their nascent self thinks that work may be. And then in time, twenty-somethings look to find love and make that love last… perhaps forever. And finally, they may decide on parenthood and relocating, both of which leave their old life far behind... perhaps forever.

There’s so much to worry about. So many choices that can’t be undone or redone.

And where am I on the decision-making spectrum? Well, I am a paradox. I am one part undying realist and one part romantic idealist. My college degree proves it, really: English Education. Need I say more? I couldn’t choose my path, so I picked English for the romantic in me, and education for the annoying realist that demanded I be employed in my field fresh out of college.

My crazy dream was to write and become a published author. Why crazy, you may ask… Well because my realist self did the research and learned that only 1% of submitted novels are accepted and published! Yep, my dream in life, my calling, had a 1% chance at survival. So my second dream, which I see as my vocation now, was to teach. So here I am… teaching. It’s the second closest thing to who I really am, and it is quite fulfilling most days. But when you're craving rocky road ice cream and you open the fridge to vanilla… Well, you know what I mean.

I am a teacher secondly because I will always be a writer first, although when I write I do find myself trying to help others by sharing my silly episodes and spiritual “aha moments.” So perhaps the writer and teacher in me are more connected than I first realized…

Well tonight, at this late hour, at a point when all my walls are down, I am confessing to you that I am going after that crazy dream. I’ve made a decision, and now I simply have to run the hurdles. I hear a whisper in my ear and a pang in my gut that I can’t shake, and they tell me that even though I’d have a better chance surviving a triple-bypass, I am going to be a writer… one that actually publishes a novel and makes a living doing it.

Crazy? I know! But it’s who I am first, and if it takes a lifetime of misses or years of unaccepted work, I feel in the life of my blood that it was what I was born to do.

THIS, right now, is the first time that I have ever declared that those are my sincere intentions. I was afraid to say it to anyone for years because I’ve always thought they’d roll their eyes or wait in anticipation for my failure. I worried they'd talk about me when I left the room and giggle at my naïveté.

But you know what? I DON’T CARE.

I always thought, hey maybe my writing is terrible and no one’s got the guts to tell me. Maybe I am delusional. The world doesn’t need another writer! What will I say that hasn’t already been said? I created a masterpiece of perfectly realistic reasons why NOT to write.

But you know what? I DON’T CARE.

If I fail, at least I know I got in the race, and I didn’t stand on the sidelines watching all the other runners glide over their hurdles. In a way, I guess this blog is one way I put myself in the race subconsciously… because when I started it, I was very fearful. I thought, what if no one reads it? What if I am posting to no one? What if people literally write mean things or tell me I can’t write? Well, none of those pesky “what ifs” were true, and that’s why I hate them so much and why my “realist-self” and I are not on speaking terms.

Making this blog was my way of getting in the race, and posting this admission—or really declaration—is my way of jumping one of those many hurdles. So I guess tonight I could say, “One hurdle down, and ninety-nine more to go!” as I make a go at that 1% chance, at that crazy dream.

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*Disclaimer: I know this post is random, a bit unhinged really, but I want to take these lines to thank all my readers out there for helping me find some courage to chase after my crazy dream.

"I Sing the Body Electric..."

2010-06-05T10:23:00.000-07:00

“I sing the body electric... [and] if anything is sacred, the human body is sacred” -- Walt Whitman

"Good for the body is the work of the body, good for the soul the work of the soul, and good for either the work of the other." -- Henry David Thoreau

"From Him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work." -- Ephesians 4:16

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I’m sick. I’m stuck in bed. And I’ve been stuck in bed for two days!

For most of us, we can’t remember the last time we were stuck in bed for two days. Modern life keeps us moving so fast: Go here! Go there! Do this! Do that! There’s nary a time when we lay in bed—completely still—looking around, calming down, and slowing down.

So with all this laying around and little to do but think… I got to thinking.

I noticed that it’s not until I am really sick or injured that I start to pay real attention to the state of my body. Don’t get me wrong; I do my best to eat right and workout, but in those acts I typically don’t think much deeper than, I am doing this because it’s good for my body. I don’t neglect my body, but I sure do take it for granted at times. I just assume its going to work for me.

Marcel Proust once wrote that, "It is in moments of illness that we are compelled to recognize that we live not alone but chained to a creature of a different kingdom, whole worlds apart, who has no knowledge of us and by whom it is impossible to make ourselves understood: our body."

What about my body? What about yours? We’re miraculous. We’re complicated. We’re intricate. But the sad fact is this: we’re not paying much attention to our bodies (well, most of us).

Our heart beats blood all over our being so that we may live. Our legs are strong and tireless, and they carry us to every corner of the world. Our eyes are tiny but infinite; they see everything and beyond (if we let them). Our skin is durable and protective. It carries scars as a reminder of a lesson learned. Our lungs are deep and strong, and they endlessly filter air and goodness through our bodies… sick, awake, asleep…

So even though I’m sick, and my body is a bit incapacitated at the moment, I have to take a moment to marvel at it. I have to tell it “thank you” for the long string of healthy days when it did not ache, it did not stop, and it did not let up. It worked for me quietly and loyally while I was busy living my life.

Thank you to my arms for being strong and for giving me the ability to hold who I love. Thank you to my mouth for allowing me to taste all the extravagant flavors of food there are in this world, and a great thanks to my eyes for guiding my entire body in all things and everyday. Thank you to my heart for beating and never stopping and for orchestrating 28 years of vitality. Thank you to my mind, of all things, for giving me my abilities, my thoughts… and my beautiful memories.

You never fail me. You never ask for much. You always carry me.

So the lesson learned today for me? Well, are you familiar with that little promise “in sickness and in health?” I am pledging now, to my body, that I will sing its praises in sickness and in health. I will do more to care for it. I will do more to thank it. I will spend more time caring for its insides, rather than fretting about its outsides. I will stop picking at the flaws—how silly I was—and instead, I will look for the things to love.

I will be sure to praise my body and its creator every chance I get because although every body is different, every body is beautiful. And we must never lose sight of that.

The Law of Humility

2010-06-03T15:47:00.000-07:00

“I claim to be a simple individual liable to err like any other fellow mortal. I own, however, that I have humility enough to confess my errors and to retrace my steps.” --Gandhi

“What makes humility so desirable is the marvelous thing it does to us; it creates in us a capacity for the closest possible intimacy with God” -- Monica Baldwin

“Do nothing from selfishness or conceit, but in humility count others better than yourselves.” --2 Philippians 2:3

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You might already know this. In fact, I am almost sure you do. So please, be patient with me as I figure it out…

In this life, we will be humbled. Right?

The fact is certain, as I am sure you know. Now, we may not know the place, the circumstance, or the date, but we can all rest assured that a good humbling will come our way… at least a few times before we leave this experience called life.

So the question is not will we be humbled? The question is how will we welcome humility?

In this life, we will be humbled… by way of choice or by way of force. The Universe has a perfect way of knowing how to bring us to our knees… right back down to the soil that nourishes us all. It knows how to strip us of all our pretensions. The Universe (God) finds us, it locates a place that requires growth or the place that is flawed, and then it brings humility into that space.

It seems that so many people run about, committing unspeakable acts and speaking to others in such disregard, as if they believe they will be the first person to avoid the great experience of humility. I see them, and I only pray they find humility sooner than later. The greater the ego, the greater the fall. And the longer one refuses to live with humility, the more difficult their lessons will be...

In fact, we all know they’re living in a compromised state, one that leaves a soul malnourished. And in time, they will hit the wall, a wall that was placed before them just so that they may be rid of their arrogance or engrossed ego… just so that they may experience the humility they ran from all of their lives.

I hope none of us are the people who are blinded by their ego. Personally, I know it's a daily struggle to act in humility. Sometimes screaming my head off seems like an easier alternative.

But if we know that the Law of Humility is true, then we have some very powerful, beautiful decisions to make. We must ask ourselves, will I welcome humility by way of my choices, or will I run from it until the Universe has its way, and it is forced upon me? There is grace and wisdom in accepting humility every day in every circumstance by our own volition.

It may not be easy to choose humility in every challenge, especially when we know we are in the right or that we have the upper-hand. But then again, feeling strong emotional attachments to being “in the right” or “having the upper-hand” leaves us enslaved to our egos. Somehow, we have to be cognizant of these feelings, acknowledge them, and then finally find a way within our spirits to walk away from them. After all, when did being right or having the upper-hand ever spare us the agony of a wronged encounter or remove the painful memory of those experiences? So, if we know we will be humbled, why not choose humility rather than choosing the brick wall? Why not choose our higher selves, rather than allowing our egos to rule the day?

In striving for humility, we are able to glean from a situation what was supposed to be learned because we are open and aware. If we are wronged, we should raise our level of consciousness, not our fist. If we are lied to, we should find a way to forgive, rather than keeping score. If we are blessed with wealth or good looks, we should thank and bless the source of all goodness, instead of glorifying ourselves.

Because in the scheme of things, preserving and refining our souls is the business we should be up to our knees in…

Humility will find us all. But will we have the courage and discipline to accept it with open arms?

In close, I will leave you with the sage words of Saint Augustine: “Humility is the foundation of all the other virtues, hence in the soul in which this virtue does not exist there cannot be any other virtue except in mere appearance.”

A Journey from Darkness to Light: One Woman’s Journey out of Depression (Part I of III)

2010-06-02T08:19:00.000-07:00

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PART I

By: N. Chartier

"Today is the tomorrow we worried about yesterday." ~Author Unknown

I think it is safe to say that at some point in our lives, we all worry about something. We worry about how we are going to fare on tomorrow’s big test. We worry about whether or not we turned the stove off after scrambling eggs for breakfast before rushing out the door to our jobs. We worry about retirement and whether we will have that nice-sized nest egg we all hope for. Then, we worry if our house will burn down because we left the stove on. Or if one of our loved ones will be killed in a car wreck on his or her way to work today. Then we panic. Our hearts pound. We can’t breathe. We begin to sweat profusely. An overwhelming sense of impending doom strikes us. Our mind races like a bullet train speeding through a maze of tunnels with no destination in sight and no sign of stopping…

Okay, did I lose some of you there? Not all of us worry to the extreme I just described. Of course some worrying is normal. It is what keeps us performing well on that important test. It is what reminds us to check the stove before we walk out the door to start our day. But, when worry turns in to a debilitating, destructive pattern it becomes a “problem” like it did for me.

I have ALWAYS had anxiety. I just did not always know it. As a child, I would stay awake all night worrying that a masked monster would break in to my bedroom window and kidnap me right out of the safety of my bedroom. Often, I would stay awake the entire night. Some nights, I would quietly tip-toe down the hallway and across the living room over to my parents’ room where I would curl up on the floor next to their bed and try to fall asleep. You might ask yourself, “Where is all this fear coming from? Why is a child suffering from insomnia?” And why should a child be worrying about being kidnapped from her bedroom in the middle of the night and being murdered?” Yes, murdered.

I was a child believing in my heart of hearts that I would be snatched from my room at night and murdered by a sick serial killer. Was it a story on the nightly news I heard that planted the seed? Was it remembering that I heard my mom talking to my dad about a little girl who was kidnapped from a sleepover and that her body was later found in a trash can that was keeping me awake at night? I believe that the media was a big part of what contributed my childhood anxiety. Additionally, I believe some of us are more prone to being anxious than others. It is only now that I am an adult that I can look back and say, “Yes, I was an anxious child. Yes, I suffered from insomnia.” No one really knew that except me (I kept my fears my secret). Some might chalk these behaviors up to being influenced by normal childhood phobias and fears. We all knew the one kid in the bunch who couldn’t watch certain cartoons or movies because they were too “scary”. But what about the one child that no one suspects has anything wrong, but who rarely sleeps because of an impending sense of doom? I will tell you. She grew up to be a woman diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder and Generalized Anxiety Disorder. That woman is ME.

Thomas Szasz, Professor Emeritus of Psychiatry at the State University of New York Health Science Center in Syracuse, once said, “Psychiatry is probably the single most destructive force that has affected American Society in the last 50 years.” I could not agree more with this proclamation. It is not my purpose in writing this to “bash” Psychiatry or to denounce any of its practices. My sole purpose is to share my personal experience with depression, anxiety and with psychiatric treatment. Although, some of what I say here may offend or surprise some of my readers. That is not my intention. I simply want you to know how psychiatry negatively affected ME and how my rage towards what psychiatric drugs has done to my life pushed me in the direction of searching for natural mood cures.

In this blog series, I would like to share my experience with you and share those natural cures with you that I have researched, tried and have found to work for me. Further, I must also explain that although I worked in the mental health field for just a month shy of three years and have a minor in psychology, I am knowledgeable on this subject (I’m not pulling information out of my rear-end!), but I am by no means an expert. So please, I invite you to sit back, make sure to have a pen and paper handy (you might want to jot down some information down later) and read MY story…

Try to imagine that feeling you had right before you gave your first speech either in elementary school or in college. Can you remember trembling a little? Can you remember not being able to sleep the night before? How about feeling sick to your stomach? Was your heart racing? Sweaty palms, perhaps? Now imagine being jolted out of your sleep during the night or in the morning when your alarm clock starts blaring. You’re sweating. Your heart is racing. And suddenly, an overwhelming sense that something TERRIBLE is going to happen sweeps over you. You are not sure what, but you are absolutely sure either the world is going to end today or that something horrible is going to happen to you or to someone you love. But, why? No one told us that something bad is going to happen today. The sky is not falling. The Grim Reaper is not standing at the edge of our bed with his scythe, ready to sweep us away to our demise. We just woke up feeling it. This is how I woke up feeling every single day. It was not always like that for me. I mean, it was not that way my entire life, but rather daily for extended periods of time, then other periods of time I would wake up feeling what you might call “normal.” Without getting in to too much detail and going too far back in time (we would be here all week), and for the sake of this blog, I will begin telling of my experience starting in December 2006...

December 16, 2006 marked one of the most memorable and satisfactory days of my life. On this date, I was honored and proud to walk across the modestly decorated stage at the Leon County Civic Center to accept my Bachelors Degree from the Dean of Criminology at Florida State University. I was proud that my hard work had finally paid off and even more proud of the fact that I already had a job interview lined up down in Naples, FL on December 19th. I celebrated my commencement by accompanying my at-the-time boyfriend and my dear friend, Jason, to a BT concert the following night in St. Pete. I was happy. I was proud. And I had no idea what chaos would lie ahead in the not-so-distant future…

So, allow me to fast forward a little bit now. I got the job in Naples on the spot and was told I would start January 16, 2007. I rushed to pack all of my belongings from my two-bedroom apartment in Tallahassee all while scrambling to find a new apartment in a city six hours away, and not to mention shopping for suits and heels for my new career. It was a busy and hectic month, but I was excited. And I was, of course, nervous. The move went well. We found a really nice apartment in a part of town not far from my office and I jumped head first in to my newfound passion- helping people with mental illness navigate through the legal system. Little did I know, I too, would soon be a psychiatric consumer.

Maybe it was the stress of moving and life taking such a drastic and sudden turn towards “adulthood.” Maybe it was the fact that my job entailed facing rapists, murderers and child molesters one-on-one while checking my personal biases at the jail cell door. Perhaps it was the fact that the relationship I was in was crumbling. Or the fact that I felt that simply earning a Bachelor’s degree alone was not good enough. I was confused. I was lost. And most of all, I was anxiety ridden and becoming really down on myself about it. All I wanted to do was sleep. I was beyond tired. I was exhausted. I would go right home from work and go straight to bed.

At work my colleague would introduce me to the various professionals I was required to coordinate my cases with, but I would stand frozen in fear. Silent. Only muttering a shy, “Hello… Nice to meet you,” or something of the sort. Soon I began to have panic attacks on the elevator in the courthouse. Hmmm, I thought, maybe I have claustrophobia? But what I had going on physiologically was more than claustrophobia. I started to lose weight because of the stress. I was waking up in the morning absolutely sick to my stomach at the very thought of getting out of bed to start the day. The moment my alarm would blare, the anxiety kicked in. Then I would get depressed because I was anxious. Many mornings I would cry the whole time while getting ready for work. Once it was time to put on my mascara, I would have to force myself to stop crying, put in a few drops of Visine, and then muster the strength to continue getting ready so I could make it to work on time.

I kept thinking to myself that I just had to keep it together on my own until my health insurance kicked in. Once I had insurance, I planned to visit a psychiatrist.

Little did she know, her journey was just beginning...

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About the Author:

Nihcole is a Florida native and a Florida State University graduate with a Bachelor’s in Criminology. She worked for three years as a Forensic Mental Health Specialist helping adults navigate through the legal system who are suffering from mental illness and who are incompetent to proceed or not guilty by reason of insanity on their felony charges.

On October 16, 2009, she received the greatest gift of all: her daughter Madalyn. She currently lives in Naples, FL, with her daughter Madalyn, boyfriend Richard, two dogs and two cats. She is a stay at home mom and is planning to return to school this fall in order to work towards a Masters in Occupational Therapy. She strives to live an organic and green lifestyle and spends a lot of time researching healthy eating and natural alternatives to conventional medicine. She enjoys spending time with her family, exercising, reading, swimming in the pool with her daughter, and spending sunny days on Naples beautiful gulf beaches.

Stand, Salute, Remember...

2010-05-31T07:09:00.000-07:00

Stop To Salute On Memorial Day
By: Captain John Rasmussen

EAGLE BASE, Bosnia and Herzegovina -- It was raining "cats and dogs" and I was late for physical training.

Traffic was backed up at Fort Campbell, Ky., and was moving way too slowly. I was probably going to be late, and I was growing more and more impatient.

The pace slowed almost to a standstill as I passed Memorial Grove, the site built to honor the soldiers who died in the Gander airplane crash, the worst redeployment accident in the history of the 101st Airborne Division (Air Assault).

Because it was close to Memorial Day, a small American flag had been placed in the ground next to each soldier's memorial plaque.

My concern at the time, however, was getting past the bottleneck, getting out of the rain, and getting to PT on time.

All of a sudden, infuriatingly, just as the traffic was getting started again, the car in front of me stopped.

A soldier, a private of course, jumped out in the pouring rain and ran over toward the grove.

I couldn't believe it! This knucklehead was holding up everyone for who knows what kind of prank. Horns were honking.

I waited to see the butt-chewing that I wanted him to get for making me late.

He was getting soaked to the skin. His BDUs were plastered to his frame. I watched-as he ran up to one of the memorial plaques, picked up the small American flag that had fallen to the ground in the wind and the rain, and set it upright again.

Then, slowly, he came to attention, saluted, ran back to his car, and drove off.

I'll never forget that incident. That soldier, whose name I will never know, taught me more about duty, honor, and respect than a hundred books or a thousand lectures.

That simple salute -- that single act of honoring his fallen brother and his flag -- encapsulated all the Army values in one gesture for me. It said, "I will never forget. I will keep the faith. I will finish the mission. I am an American soldier."

I thank God for examples like that.

And on this Memorial Day, I will remember all those who paid the ultimate price for my freedom, and one private, soaked to the skin, who honored them.

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Source: http://www.skywriting.net/inspirational/stories/salute_on_memorial_day.html

POETography: On a Bridge

2010-05-25T16:07:00.000-07:00

POETography is when you post what you're thinking in words, phrases, stories, or poetry about the photograph above. It can be whatever comes to your mind. It can be a personal memory...

I personally love this photo because there are multiple focal points: the runner, the group of girls to the left, the Brooklyn Bridge, New York...

So what do you think? Comment here or at our Facebook page (http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Universal-Soul/175779326361?ref=ts#!/pages/The-Universal-Soul/175779326361?ref=ts) with your thoughts, words, or poetry.

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As before, I've will post my response in the comments section to get the ball rolling. Check it out and post your own... Don't be a stranger! ;)
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Last month's POETography:
http://theuniversalsoul.blogspot.com/2010/04/poetography-alone-and-thinking.html

March’s POETography:
http://theuniversalsoul.blogspot.com/2010/03/poetography-man-and-woman.html

February's POETography:
http://theuniversalsoul.blogspot.com/2010/02/poetography-whats-she-thinking.html

January's POETography:
http://theuniversalsoul.blogspot.com/2010/01/poetography-haiti-dark-and-rolling.html

Be Random. Be Kind.

2010-05-23T08:56:00.000-07:00

Yes, I know, I have neglected my monthly Random Acts of Kindness…

So to make up for it, I’ve got a Random Act of Kindness I’ve experienced this month, along with some Random Acts that our readers have contributed. I hope this lifts your day… And PLEASE share your stories in the comments or via e-mail at TheUniversalSoul@hotmail.com.

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“Kindness on Aisle Seven”
K.A. Phinney

My husband and I were doing our grocery shopping the other day after work. We’ve been trying to save every penny since going on our own version of The Debt Diet. While we were standing in aisle seven, deciding on which brand of snack bars to buy and which one will be the best “bang for the buck,” an elderly woman slowly made her way toward us.

“Excuse me,” she said.

We both turned to her. I was worried she was confused or needed help with something.

“Here. Take this,” she mouthed assertively. A crumpled paper was folded in her hand.

I was a little surprised by what she was trying to do. So I looked at my husband, and tentatively reached out to receive her gift.

She continued on. “It’s a $5.00 coupon for the grocery store. It expires tomorrow, and I haven’t got use for it. I’ve got one already. So take it, if it helps. Looks like you’ve got a lot of groceries to buy.” She smiled.

“Wow!” my husband and I said in unison. We were both blown away.

“Thank you so much.” I continued. “This is really, really nice of you.”

“You’re very welcome,” she replied. And with that, she smiled, turned around, and slowly wheeled her cart down the aisle.

She slipped quietly out of our sight, as my husband and I were still frozen in the moment.

To be honest, we were almost in shock, but it wasn’t over the $5.00 dollars we would save because of her. We were charmed and blessed by her kindness, and by her divine timing.

That's because we were just talking on the drive over to the grocery about how so many people are treating each other with such rudeness and disregard nowadays.

And then just like that! God sends another messenger to remind us that kindness is still alive and well.

You’ve got to love his timing.

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Random Acts From Our Readers:

Ms. Jennifer Cox writes…

I've been immersing myself in anything and everything positive for almost two years now. My Facebook status updates are positive and affirmative quotes 90% of the time, and I love to Facebook "share" all the threads from groups just like yours with all of my friends all of the time. It benefits me tremendously to be surrounded by all of this wonderful energy, and I always want to spread the love.

Apparently, I'm not alone! I was in Big Y (local grocery store) the other day and was standing with my cart, texting my kids to see what they wanted for dinner, when I realized someone that had been walking past me was slowing to a stop. I lifted my head up to see who it was, and standing there in front of me was the cutest, little... old man.

He smiled widely and said, "Here, you can have the last one," and extended his hand.

In it was a business-size card. However, this was no ordinary business card. It was a SMILE CARD. On the back it read this: "Keep this card with you always... Let it remind you that someone is thinking about you right now and smiling! You're a very special person. Here's hoping that just holding this card will put some extra sunshine in your day! Put on a happy face and watch others start smiling too!"

And in that moment I realized, it all really does come full circle.

Ms. Auxy Espinoza writes…

Hi. I have a super soft spot for the elderly. I have helped three of them to date.

The first one was a very old lady crossing the street. Through the corner of my eye I caught something; it was her legs going up in the air as she hit the floor. I immediately pulled over, made sure she was okay, and drove her home.

The second one was an elderly man who was running after a water bottle a jogger had dropped, and he fell face first on the pavement. I happen to be driving by and jumped out of my car to see if I could help him. He was more embarrassed than hurt, but I was able to help him up and laugh it off with him to make him feel better.

The third one was another older lady who I saw on the ground right after she landed. She tried to lean on a mailbox and missed it. Along with two others, I was able to lift her. The others left, but I couldn't leave her, so I asked her if I could call someone for her. She said there was no one to call because her kids were just teens. I offered to give her a ride home. Somehow, I was able to take her all the way home and make her some tea. Her teenager thanked me for helping his mom.

Acts of kindness come naturally to me, and I love making others feel good.

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Thank you, Jennifer and Auxy, for sharing with us! And thank you to all the people out there who dare to be random... and dare to be KIND!

Like a Child

2010-05-17T18:55:00.000-07:00

When I was a little girl, my sister and I would spend the length of our summer days building indoor forts made of sheets and pillows. We’d fill them with books and toys and stuffed animals. I remember the afternoon sun would flood through the long floor to ceiling windows of our home and splay across our creation. We’d play in those forts all day, invite our mother to visit for snacks, and sleep in them at night.

We were safe and warm, tucked inside. Nothing mattered. The world was there inside those billowing walls, and that was everything.

Those memories are some of my most precious ones… especially now that we are all grown up. And like bees, we are busy swarming from bud to bud, making a life for ourselves and tasting the sweet gifts life has to offer.

But sometimes in the comings and goings, we are stung. And sometimes there’s a crash landing as we navigate the world and all its complexities.

It’s times like those that make me yearn for childhood, lazy summer days, and the shelter of our forts. It’s times like these, when I feel so far off from the beginning years of my life, that I need a little shelter.

I saw a little girl today, running out of a craft store right behind her mother. She had the biggest smile on her face. She skipped and giggled. The sun shined down on her and the technicolored bouquet of silk flowers in her hand. I thought, If only we could be children again… she has her whole life in front of her.

And for a moment, I wished I was her.

But, I am me.

And God put me where he wanted me, when he wanted me. I may not be able to slip inside a sheeted fort with my little sister again; I may not be able to run through the streets with silk flowers in my hands, but I can work to protect the aspects of myself that are childlike.

Growing older doesn’t mean we have to completely relinquish the irreplaceable spark of childhood.

So like a child, we must work to keep the doors of our heart open, as many of you have instructed. We must trust and give others the benefit of the doubt, like a child. And we must see the good in everything, like a child.

And when it all goes to hell—as we know it sometimes does—we can close our eyes, and find shelter in the memories.

…I can almost hear my sister now, giggling and calling my name. I can feel the warmth of the sun seeping through the sheets. Inside the fort, I am safe. I am a child—God’s child...

I can weather this stormy weather if I can just preserve the very nature that God gave to children first.

To simply trust God...

To only see good...

To love effortlessly...

... like a child.

A Million Doors to the Human Heart

2010-05-15T14:58:00.000-07:00

The deepest sort of pain is the agony you feel when you’ve laid yourself down for someone, and they walk all over you.

You’ve loved them. You’ve raised them up. You’ve proven your loyalty time and time again.

Yet they do the unspeakable. And after they’ve done what they’ve come to do, they accuse you of not doing enough, not being enough. They pour the proverbial salt on your wounds.

Have you ever felt that way?

Have you felt like you truly did everything in your power to love and forgive, but that it’s still not enough for them? Have you turned your cheek just to have the other slapped?

I can tell you I’ve felt like that so many times that I can’t recount them all. So I figure, if I am suffering from a pain like this, I am sure all of you out there have felt it before too.

It’s really the most desperate feeling, isn’t it?

Most times in life, when things don’t go well, it’s because you didn’t want it bad enough, or that you didn’t try hard enough, or that you made a mistake along the way. Well, that pain may hurt, but you know you have something to do with it.

The pain I am talking about is the kind that comes when you have done everything in your power to be good, to be patient, to be just, to be loving, to be forgiving. This pain I am talking about leaves you feeling helpless and unworthy because the other person doesn’t find you or your actions good enough for them.

They have rejected you in your wholeness.

They have rejected you for who you are.

And they have rejected the very best of who you are… and you are left devastated.

When this happens, how do we cope? How do we repair the brokenness? How do we come to grips with the reality that things will never be the same? How do we find a way to live with and accept the rejection and the feelings of being unworthy?

I don’t have the answers… because if I did, I wouldn’t be asking you all these questions, and so many. I’ve gotten good at dealing with all types of letdowns, but this sort of emotional crisis is the very one that holds my heart hostage and torments me long after the rejection occurs.

Please tell me, how do you deal? How do you let go and learn to open your heart again? Because that’s what I worry about the most…

There are a million doors to the human heart, but I feel them closing some days, one by one. And when they close, they are empty. And when they close, they hurt. And I am worried that when they close, I will never find the courage to open them again; rather, I will offer up my sensitivity for equanimity.

It’s so hard to live this life with a heart of open doors. It’s so hard to keep them open and harder to open them once they’ve been shut, of this I am sure.

So my question is this: Do we suffer or do we survive?

Do we leave those doors open and allow whatever comes our way to enter in? Or do we close and lock those doors to keep the world out? Suffer or survive?

In truth, I have no answers tonight.

I wish I did.

I wish I never had to ask the question at all.

The Music of Heartbreak

2010-05-04T15:34:00.000-07:00

We are all in the same boat.

And that boat is called the human experience. And right now that boat is flooding with heartbreak.

In times like these it’s our natural instinct to work wildly to expel the water from our sinking vessel. And if that doesn’t work, we're tempted to jump ship all together.

At what point do we realize the water is pouring in far faster than we can shovel it out? At what point do we jump ship? And when we jump ship, when do we return to assess the wreckage?

I don’t have the answers; perhaps that is part of the human condition. But my heartbroken friend, what I can do for you tonight is offer up the notion that you aren’t alone. You can find a Universal accord—a “distant companionship” you could say—with time, with God, and with the many who suffer along with you.

As cliché as it is—and I pray you’ll forgive me— I find looking up at a blanket of milky stars in the night sky to be very comforting. It reminds me of this Universal accord. The stars tell me I am not alone. They tell me I am connected to so many things. They tell me that as I look up and fling my words toward the sky that so many, too, are uttering the same prayers for Peace and Healing.

So as I work tirelessly to save this sinking ship (or perhaps walk away from the wreckage of heartbreak entirely), I can know that I am not alone. God is on my side. Time is my friend. And all of the heartbroken tonight will be walking with me.

Though I walk away, I am not alone.

Though it may hurt badly right now, time will heal my wounds.

Though it may take a miracle to love and trust again, God’s been known to work a miracle or two.

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And as far as articulating the deep aching we feel for the loved one who’s died, who’s rejected us, who’s left us in the cold, nothing does it better for me than the song “Walk Away” by Ben Harper.

His words are my words. His words are yours.

Please listen... and know you’re not the only one.

"Walk Away"
By: Ben Harper

Oh no- here comes that sun again.
And (that) means another day without you my friend.
And it hurts me to look into the mirror at myself.
And it hurts even more to have to be with somebody else.

And it's so hard to do and so easy to say.
But sometimes - sometimes,
you just have to walk away - walk away.

With so many people to love in my life, why do I worry about one?
But you put the happy in my ness, you put the good times into my fun.

And it's so hard to do and so easy to say.
But sometimes - sometimes,
you just have to walk away - walk away and head for the door.

We've tried the goodbye so many days.
We walk in the same direction so that we could never stray.
They say if you love somebody than you have got to set them free,
but I would rather be locked to you than live in this pain and misery.
They say time will make all this go away,
but it's time that has taken my tomorrows and turned them into yesterdays.
And once again that rising sun is droppin' on down
And once again, you my friend, are nowhere to be found.

And it's so hard to do and so easy to say.
But sometimes, sometimes you just have to walk away, walk away and head for the door.
You just walk away - walk away - walk away.
You just walk away, walk on, turn and head for the door.

No Regrets

2010-05-01T07:32:00.000-07:00

Regret is like a boulder tied to your ankle. It's heavy, it's burdensome, and you can't shake it. And there's nowhere to hide from regret because there's no one to blame but yourself. You did it. No one else. That's a jagged pill to swallow, isn't it?

I think that in our days, as they add up, there are so many simple, ordinary opportunities that come up that give us the ability to act in greatness. Sometimes we think only superheroes and world leaders are the people that can achieve greatness by a single word spoken or the power they yield over the people.

Well, let me tell you, that is plain WRONG!

God has blessed us all with worthiness and greatness. We just have to take hold of those gifts. Our daily lives-- for the most part-- aren't glamorous: we don't have hoards of people chasing after us or near-death situations springing up that require our heroism. But what we do have is our jobs, our families, our friends, and our communities. And I can bet you that those people need a hero, and that hero is YOU!

With your words, your love, your mercy, your guidance, your forgiveness, and your support, you can help change the world you live in one person at a time. You have the gifts and the abilities to live your life extraordinarily, and you've been called to be that light in others too.

And if you don't choose to embrace the tools of life, you will regret it, not just for your cherished ones, but for yourself. If we don't choose the right thing to do in everyday living and circumstances, we will surely regret it when we look over our shoulders.

Please, don't let any opportunity to truly live and love pass you by. Because before you know it, you will have gone many, many years without truly living your life. And you'll truly regret that the mark you leave in this world and on the lives of others wasn't heroic at all.

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I actually wrote the poem below about regret before I wrote the introductory part of this post. It honestly just came to me. I was drinking my morning coffee, thinking about life... And there it was. I hope it reminds you of all the gifts and opportunities you have been blessed with and that you must not let them go to waste.

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"Because I Would Not"
By: K.A. Phinney

A long, long time ago, I had my words.
And I wasted them.

When I was young, I had my health.
But I neglected it.

Once, I had the favor of men.
And I misused it.

There was a time, I had power.
But I abused it.

At a point, I looked the needy in the eyes.
Yet I refused them.

For years, I was blessed with love.
And I neglected him.

I once had eyes to see all things.
But I didn’t use them.

I was given opportunities for change.
And I misspent them.

There were times I could grant forgiveness.
But I denied them.

And now I know, as I look back, I had a life.
But I squandered it because...

I would not speak.
I would not sacrifice.
I would not show mercy.
I would not love.
I would not see.
I would not change.
I would not forgive.

And because I would not, I am not.

The Poetry of Heartbreak

2010-05-01T00:00:00.000-07:00

Heartbreak. Could there be anything worse?

There’s been much discussion on this blog and on our Facebook community about the pain of being on a one-way street to love. We’ve all felt it: the affections we have for our love is unrequited.

We wait. We speak. We cry. We wait again.

But the love is never returned.

And in that realization we know we have one of two very hard decisions to make: wait forever inside a lonely heartbreak or find a way to force the fire of love to die within ourselves. Both are painful. One is a longsuffering pang and the other is like ripping off a Band-Aid.

In exploring that heartbreak, I wrote a narrative poem, which is really a short story set to a bit of rhyme for good measure. It’s about a young woman who thinks she’s fallen for the love of her life. She is enamored. She does everything right. But will he return that fire? Or will she be left waiting forever? You'll have to read it to find out...

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"The Artist"
By: K.A. Phinney

You said to meet you in the park,
and I came like a good girl should
in my fancy dress and Mary Janes.
I was always trying to impress you,
but my petticoat was torn and soiled,
and my shoes were scuffed and worn,
and I wasn’t quite enough for you.

Oh, but I so admired you in moments
that were ordinary and unlikely.
You were so inspired that I was left
to feel so very common and boring.
You’d take your coffee black at midnight,
and I would say unwittingly, “How nice.”
Your writings were tortuous and epic,
and I was, “Simply a cliché,” you said.
Your art was monumental with each stroke.
Your anger was beautiful and unexpected,
like when I burned your buttered toast,
and you were left to eat eggs alone.
You yelled with passion that I never felt
but forgave quickly, tossing breakfast aside,
and in those moments, my insecurities
slinked off my skin and out of my mind.
Being against you healed me, alright.
You said once, long ago, I was your muse;
you saw it in my face, and we were born.
So for days strung together, I would wait
to see that look again and feel your power.

And now I sit here and wait in the cold
for you to come and sit next to me,
to talk eye-to-eye on a bench for two;
It’s been so long since last I’ve seen you.

Oh, I do so remember the day you left me;
something about Amsterdam at dawn
and that you had your fill of New York,
single flats, and girls from the Carolinas.
I said, “You can’t, your paintings, your work…”
“Keep them,” you laughed me off in that way
you always did when you were bored by me.
I cried like a little girl, and you packed.
The muse was gone and no little thing
could keep you any longer inside this space.
You were an artist; I was careless to love you,
and so you left like you came…
quickly,
magically,
passionately.

I am still waiting in my dress and shoes
for you to meet me like you said you would
in your poem you wrote so long ago…
“In the park, your red dress finds me,
on a bench for two, you remind me,
that a love, which is consuming,
finds its way back to you…”

Guest Blogger: "A Better Life"

2010-04-30T08:39:00.000-07:00

This week's guest blogger is Ms. Lena from The Colors Magazine, and her fictional story, which was inspired by her own life growing up in Russia, is dear to my heart because it's about the importance of an education. If you don't know (because you are new to this blog), I am a high school English teacher, and many of my students are inner-city children. Please read, enjoy, and be inspired by this story about overcoming...

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"A Better Life"
By: Lena Toporikova

We had never been rich. Or a middle class for that matter. One could tell we were poor, but my mother would never admit this. After all, we had a place to live in; clothes to wear; both kids, my brother and I, were going to school; and we had at least a piece of bread to eat each day. Some people, my mother used to repeat, do not have even this.

I agreed, but it did not make me feel any better about who we were.

Yes, we had a place to live in, a one-room apartment, for a mother with two kids and an always drunk stepfather. Unpaid bills and a constant fear to be thrown out…

Yes, we had clothes to wear. I still remember the old blue sweater I used to wear till it finally could tear at a touch. All clothes we wore were second hand, given to us by relatives who believed in good deeds that should be rewarded, which meant I was obliged to babysit their kids and tutor them when they failed in the exams. No pay, of course. After all I got to wear the old blue sweater, didn’t I?

And yes, we had a piece of bread to eat each day, on some days it was the only food we had. And then that blue sweater hung loosely so that my little brother could fit in.

It was true also that my brother and I were going to school. Different ones though. And maybe that was my problem. I went to a school for rich kids. That school had a quota for gifted children. And unfortunately, I got into it. I was smart, I could count, and I knew multiplication. I began reading when I was four. By the time I had to go to school I had read more books than most of my schoolmates would ever read in their entire life.

My mom was working twelve hours a day; the stepfather came home at around 2:00 p.m. drunk and angry. The best I could do was to take my brother and to go somewhere just to avoid being in one room with that man. Of course, I knew he would fall asleep right after an hour or so, but I still preferred to stay away from our apartment (I couldn’t call that place home) when my mother was not there. There always had been something dangerous about that man, something dark. I never heard a sweet word from him, he always reeked of alcohol, and I had intensely ill feelings for him. At that time I didn’t even know he was not my biological father, but I guess kids understand easily when adults don’t love them and act accordingly. So did I. I just took my brother and fled that place once the man appeared.

Sometimes we would go to our neighbors’ place, and if we were lucky, we got a bowl of soup, and I was allowed to read the books in their library. Our neighbors were nice people, and I believe they had sympathy for us, but sometimes they acted differently. They wouldn’t let us in, just saying they were busy and giving us a piece of cake. Not that it was bad; now, I think they probably had their problems too. They had divorced by the time I was ten. Though when I was six, I didn’t care much about their problems but would sit somewhere on the bench in the park and cry about not being allowed to read anything and call the neighbors names that were used often by my parents.

On one of such days, I was crying in the park, my brother was playing with his toys nearby when a woman approached us.

“Are you two alone here?” she asked.

“Yes, M’am.”

“Where are your parents?”

“My mom is working; dad is sleeping,” I replied.

“How old are you?”

“I am six, M’am,”

“Six year old and alone here in the park? Should I take you home?”

“No, thank you.” I began wondering if the woman would really bring us home, and since I didn’t want it, I added hastily, “Our mom will pick us up when she finishes.”

“Okay. You know what? For a girl of your age you speak too well. Does your mom read for you a lot?”

“No, M’am, she does not. I read myself.”

The woman should have seemed surprised, but I don’t really remember. I was six after all; I can’t remember all the details.

“Do you read? And what do you read, Sweetheart?”

“Books,” I replied searching with eyes for my brother. He was nowhere near the bench, and I began worrying. Of course he was only four, and he wouldn’t go anywhere far, but I panicked.

Finally, I located him twenty feet away and ran towards him. The woman followed me. I took my brother’s hand and apologized to the woman.

“I am sorry; usually we stay at our neighbors’ place, and he plays with his toys, and I read books. But today they didn’t let us.” I began crying again, sobbing, trying to say something, to explain, but words failed me. That my mom was working too hard to make the ends meet? That my stepfather was an alcoholic? That our neighbors are sorting out their own problems and don’t need paupers’ kids like us getting under their feet?

I can say it now, now that I am a twenty-six-year-old, and an independent and a self-sufficient woman. But back then, I was just a six years old, practically abandoned kid who made it her responsibility to look after her younger brother. I was the girl that didn’t know that kids were supposed to have fun and eat sweets and be loved by their parents. I didn’t know these things, didn’t know life could be any different. I just cried because I was not allowed to read books on that day.

On that day, the woman took me to a public library, and it changed my life. The woman’s name was Margaret Simpson, but I was allowed to call her Maggie.

When we entered the library that day I was amazed at the number of books they had there. Maggie asked me to take a sit and started to talk with one of the librarians. Take a seat? Was she kidding? I was so excited to be in that place that I would not stop walking around the bookshelves, taking every second book into my hands, turning over the pages, smiling at myself, wondering if they had books from all over the world. I could not imagine at that time that it was one of the smallest libraries I would ever be in. For me it was huge; it was the paradise. Every now and then I looked at Maggie who was still talking with the librarian, and couple of times I saw her pointing at me and my brother and gesticulating frantically. After a while, that seemed an eternity, she asked me to come closer.

I did.

“Mandy,” she said. Mandy is my name if you don’t know it yet. “This is Mrs. Anderson; she works here, and she was very kind to allow you to use the services of this library.”

I looked puzzled at Maggie. “Allow us to use services”? I didn’t know what that meant. And I was so scared that if they thought I were dumb, they would never let me in here so I didn’t dare to ask.

But Mrs. Anderson was a wise old lady who understood my confusion and helped me out.
“It means, dear, that you can come here anytime you wish and read the books you want to.”
I couldn’t believe my happiness.

I.
Was.
Allowed.
To.
Read.
Books.

That was like all dreams come true.

“Thank you. Thank you so much!” I couldn’t decide which of the two women I was more grateful to.

Since that time, I was a regular visitor in the library. That was a place where we were always welcome: the place that I called home. Nobody cared how poor or rich we were. Nobody bothered with what clothes we were wearing. They only knew I loved reading, and it was enough for them.

One of the regular visitors was an old man who we soon had become friends with. He used to tell me stories about his young age, and I told him all about mom and stepdad and their constant fights. He was always nice to me so when one day he asked me if he could walk us home I agreed. When we reached home he wanted to talk to my mom. They had stayed in the kitchen for nearly thirty minutes, and when they finished my mom called me.

“Mandy, this gentleman says you can read very well. Is it true?”

Surprised I looked at my mom and nodded. She gave me an old newspaper.

“Read.”

I began reading. It was an article about some political issues in the parliament.

“Do you understand what you are reading about?” she asked.

I again nodded hesitantly. All this while I was praying she would not put a veto on a library-thing.

“You see,” the man broke the silence. “Your daughter is very gifted. Don’t let her talents go to waste.”

Since that day my mother couldn’t stop talking about the better future for all of us.

“Mandy, you will go to a good school, get an education. You won’t have to work for twelve hours to have nothing but debts. It will be a new life.”

I didn’t bother about this new life much, though now I think I should have. But all I could think about at that time was how great my mom was to allow me to go to the library again.

A couple of months later my mom came home excited as never before.

“Tomorrow is our great day, Honey. The beginning of our future.” And tomorrow indeed was a beginning… a beginning of my life in hell. She brought me to this school. There already was a large crowd of people, parents with their offspring. Everyone was eager to get their kid into this school.

They called us one-by-one. And when someone disappeared behind the door, the rest of us were staring at it wondering when they would come out, but nobody did. Maybe because there was another door, a way out. Sometimes I wish I knew that way. Sometimes I’m glad I did not.
When they called out my name, I went in scared like any other little kid about what would happen now. It turned out there was nothing to be scared about. They just talked to me. I read for them, made some calculations, and answered a few questions. Then I went out where my mom was waiting for me, and we went home. Two days later we learned I made it to the second round. After the second round, there was the third, and finally, I and four more kids were accepted into this school.

But from all of us, five little kids from a poor district, there was only me who made it up to the graduation day. The other three boys and a girl had to quit because of constant persecution, offences and harassment we all had to go through every single day of our lives in that school.
Sometimes I wish I had quit too, but then I am glad I had not. It made me stronger, made me who I am, and all that while it made my mom happy to know that I am destined for a better future.

She had never managed to see this future though. She died shortly before my graduation. And she had never learned that I made it through all the obstacles to the place where I was now. The place where I was happy…

Now I had something my mother always missed: happiness.

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About the Author:

Lena is a Russian blogger who writes in English. She is passionate about writing and hopes to finish a novel of her own one day. While it takes time to put all her thoughts down on paper, she writes about anything she likes in her online home - The Colors Magazine. This is the place she created in hope that it could be a platform for her to exercise and improve her writing skills, as well as as platform for other bloggers to communicate and share views.

Is This the Day, Little Bird?

2010-04-29T17:59:00.000-07:00

"Many people die with their music still in them. Why is this so? Too often it is because they are always getting ready to live. Before they know it, time runs out." --Oliver Wendell Holmes

"God gave us the gift of life; it is up to us to give ourselves the gift of living well." --Voltaire

"Never forget that you must die; that death will come sooner than you expect... God has written the letters of death upon your hands." -- J. Furniss

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How silly we all are… I mean, really!

We run here, and we run there. We fret over this bill and that line… We worry about Friday’s change of plans and what so-and-so supposedly said about so-and-so…

It’s so easy to become nearsighted, isn’t it?

On our Facebook community, I posted a quote from the timeless, bestselling novel Tuesdays with Morrie, and it goes like this: “Put a bird on your shoulder. That's what the Buddhists do. Just imagine a little bird on your shoulder and every day you say, ‘Is this the day I'm going die, little bird? Am I leading the life I want to lead? Am I the person that I want to be?’ If we accept the fact that we can die at any time, we'd lead our lives differently. So everyday you say, ‘Is this the day?’” Apparently Morrie Schwartz’s powerful paraphrasing of the Buddhist proverb touched many people.

It got me to thinking, why can’t we somehow become more mindful in every moment, whether it’s a challenging one or a peaceful one? I mean, in the scheme of life, when we look over our shoulders, we rarely remember EVERY little detail, but what we DO remember is how we felt.

I can’t tell you all the nitty-gritty details of what I was specifically doing to allow myself such pain and difficulty over the years: the faces have blurred, the stories have been washed away by the current of time, and the many words and circumstances have disappeared as storm clouds do after the rain. What I do remember is how I felt… and that wasn’t so good...

I got nearsighted!

I was so focused on the minutia of the daily grind, and I was so content on keeping score and proving myself to near strangers that I was forgetting what a gift this fleeting life really is…

I was young.

I was stupid.

I was squandering my life!

So what did I learn from Morrie? What have I learned since becoming a student of life? I’ve come to understand since those difficult years that life is truly what you make it, and that it is a fleeting experience you only have once. All the things we see, love, touch, taste, feel, and possess are TRANSIENT! The way we look, our jobs, our children, our spouse, our minds… We WILL lose them all.

As my father puts it so bluntly, “No one gets out of this alive.” And it’s so true... Although I prefer to put a more positive spin on his catch phrase…

So now I open my eyes in the morning… I take a deep breath… I place one foot in front of the other, and I walk about seeking joy, forgiveness, love, and enlightenment… And I ask, “Is this the day, little bird? Is this it?”

It’s a daily struggle, and of the hardest kind, to keep our eyes and minds focused on the bigger picture. But if we are brave enough to put that little bird on our shoulder, if we are wise enough to acknowledge his presence everyday, we will be indubitably blessed with a vision that is FAR from nearsightedness.

We will be blessed.

We will say the words we need to say.

We will find ways to forgive the ones that need our forgiveness.

We will strive for the dreams that seem to elude us.

We will find vigor and bravery.

We will have dignity and grace.

And all of it—the love, the pain, the ups, and the downs—will taste twice as sweet.

Impermanence tends to do that!

A Confession

2010-04-27T17:25:00.000-07:00

I’m sorry. I’ve disappeared again.

I am not sure about you, but I have my favorite blogs, and when my trusty Internet friend of words goes missing, I think, “Hey! Where’d you go?” It’s sort of like the boyfriend that doesn’t call you back… Or like the colleague that is too busy to reply to your e-mail. In a way, your blogger friend’s words, ideas, and pictures have become a part of your day. Or at the very least, they’ve played a part in how you like to unwind at the end of the day.

Normally, I don’t ever get too personal with the specifics about my life because I’ve always felt like you wouldn’t want to hear about that. I typically like to write about things that we all have in common, but tonight (maybe because I am rundown and maybe because my walls are slipping a bit) I’d like to share a little something with you.

Is that okay?

There are a lot of things I am, and there’re a lot of things I am not. But the one thing I am is loyal… and to a fault, really. Honestly, I couldn’t bring myself to write to you all this past week and a half because I hurt right now, and I am having a hard time taking my own advice. Two people I love a great deal sometimes act as if having a relationship with me is work that they can’t be bothered to do, as if I am an inconvenience. I’ve been feeling like a burden in a box for a long, long time. I’ve been feeling like I am not good enough, and there’s nothing worse than feeling like a trouble to the ones you love and revere the most in this world. And it’s even worse when you can’t seem to communicate with them because they can’t hear what you have to say. And it’s particularly hard when all the words you have can’t change a thing.

I’ve heard this before: people don’t change. Sometimes I feel like I believe it.

So I am putting it out there. I can’t write to you all right now because I am loyal to you. Does that make sense? I couldn’t live with myself if I put on my writer’s voice when I just wasn’t feeling it genuinely. Every time I write to you, I make sure I am coming from a sincere, honest place. If I didn’t, I would feel like a fake, a fraud, and worse… a hypocrite. If I wrote about love when I wasn’t feeling love, I’d be wrong… Or if I wrote about forgiveness when I was personally having a hard time turning the other cheek, I’d be wrong.

I know I will come around; I always do. I know that these people in my life are the people I love the very most, and I know, like so many times before, I can learn to put a smile on my face. I can be brave and act as if their actions never hurt me. I’ve done it before; I’ll do it again. It’s just that this time, I can’t say that the wounds I carry around within me won’t surface again. They’ve been bubbling up so much because as I get older, I am learning that sharing your life with someone is how your show and experience love. And though I am getting older, I am learning it’s still so hard to forgive and forget when you’re the only one that wants to try. One-way streets are the loneliest kinds.

To the ones that love me to the ends of the Earth but seem to never truly understand me and see me for the woman I am, I love you, respect you, and cherish you from afar. If it takes another lifetime of putting on my brave face so that I can have a relationship with you on your terms, I’ll do that. If it takes 100 more journeys, me going to you, I’ll gladly do it. And if it takes years upon years of me succumbing to your ways, I’ll do it just so I can pivot in your world for a little while…

I’ll do it all… again and again.

Just give me time for now…

Please...

Guest Blogger: Family Stories

2010-04-19T08:42:00.000-07:00

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Every week this month, I will be featuring a guest blogger/writer. If you are interested in being featured next month, please contact me at TheUniversalSoul@hotmail.com with your stories, advice, experiences, and poetry!
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Kathryn Embrey is our second guest blogger in the month of April. Her story is a narrative that explores the power of love a first glance and the family legacy that follows. If you have family stories you'd like to share at The Universal Soul, please send me an e-mail.

"The Beginning of Every Family"

There is moment that becomes the beginning of every family. It could be an introduction from a mutual friend or a cursory glance given in passing. For mine, it was a chance meeting of two strangers on an old country road...

It was 1952, in Bay St. Louis, Mississippi, and two strangers woke up one morning not knowing that by the afternoon both of their lives would change forever. As far as they knew, it was a normal day with normal routines and normal activities.

Evelyn, a young waitress at the local ice cream parlor, began her day as usual. She woke to a clear blue sky that she welcomed with a broad smile. For the past week, it had rained every which way imaginable and muddied up the streets. The break from the rainy weather was an invitation to be outside, and Evelyn planned to do just that. Evelyn combed through her dark hair letting it lay naturally. After sifting through her closet, she decided on a plain lilac colored dress. It was nothing special and was not meant to impress, but it fit nicely. Evelyn and a friend, Thelma, made plans to walk through town that day.

Thelma worked at a local diner and was quite the chatterbox. She could talk for an eternity about nothing, some people used to say. As Evelyn and Thelma walked, rain puddles were disturbed by their shoes shuffling down the street. Thelma began to gush and rattle on about some guy that came to the diner she worked at recently. Thelma wanted to go see him and Evelyn sensed that her chatterbox friend had other motives than a simple visit. As they made their way down the street, a stranger to this town had started his morning rather differently.

Paul was already on his way to work before the sun even peaked above the horizon. He worked for Burnup and Sims, a telecommunications company, digging trenches to lay cables and phone lines. It was hard work, the kind that made his muscles ache for days. But it was work, and Paul was thankful for the job. He had travelled from Florida along the Gulf Coast digging the trenches and laying the cable. For the past week, he and a few other men had made their way to the small town of Bay St. Louis, Mississippi. The torrential rain that fell from the dark clouds in previous days made today's work more difficult than anticipated. The trenches had become slippery, slick, and sticky. It was hard enough for the men to get in and out of the deep trenches, let alone complete the job they were sent to do.

The sun reached the highest point in the sky, and its rays stung the back of Paul's neck. He never complained, but the warmth of the sun was better than the ice cold rain, he thought. In the distance, Paul could hear two voices and recognized one of them. It was Thelma, he thought, the waitress that served him every time he went to the diner. Thelma was nice, a little chatty, but a nice girl all the same. He noticed that she had taken an interest in him but never gave into her advances. Paul had always wanted a family, but he was focused on his work for the time being.

"Paul!" Thelma called out in excitement.

He looked up from the deep, muddy hole he stood in to not only see Thelma but another girl with her. Paul was stunned. Thelma began to attempt to get his attention by asking too many questions but Paul paid no mind to her. His focus was on the dark haired girl standing next to Thelma. Paul was overcome with a wonderful sensation, and he could not look away from the creature that stood before him.

Paul Martin may have been a simple Georgia boy, but he knew a good thing when it crossed his path.

Evelyn had no expectations of the person that Thelma had spoken so highly of during their walk. He sounded like a nice person, but Evelyn could not be so sure, especially when it came from Thelma. Bay St. Louis was not a large city at all, and Evelyn and Thelma reached the place that Thelma spoke of in no time.

It was muddy, and the ground was still soaked from the rain. On the edge of the road a deep hole filled with mud, water, and a few men. One man looked up at her as Thelma called his name. Evelyn saw past his the muddy covered waders and the sweat stained face.

In that very moment Paul and Evelyn's eyes met. In that moment, two strangers met on an old country road. In that moment, a 56-year love affair had begun. In that moment, a real fairytale had sprung from the worn pages of storybook and into reality.

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Words From the Author:

I am a 20 year old college student attending the University of South Florida to study Elementary Education. I am excited to be a future educator and mentor to children. I grew up in a broken home and have lost loved ones throughout my short life. Despite the loss, I find comfort in the written word, such as poetry and song lyrics. I hold onto the hope that I too will have a "happily ever after" as my grandparents did.

After my grandparents met that day, three months later, they were married and moved to Florida. There they had three children together, Paul Jr., Peter, and Lillian, who is my mother. Their life together was based on their love for each other, and more importantly their Faith. My grandparents loved each other up until the very moment my Grandaddy passed from one life into the next.

Kathryn posts her words and poetry at her blog here: http://greengold0910.blogspot.com/

Food 101: Top 10 “Must Haves” for an Anti-Aging Diet (Part I)

2010-04-18T11:56:00.000-07:00

Things sort of go in cycles, don’t they?

I've been posting a lot about the spiritual aspects of life. And in that time, I've noticed that I have neglected the "body" side of The Universal Soul.

Now that the weather is warming and SPRING is in the air, it's a time for so many people to rejuvenate themselves, their routines, and even their New Year's Resolutions. Personally, I am challenging myself to step up my workouts and recommit to my yoga routines because—to be frank with you all—I’ve been doing the minimum.

A while back I started to put together a “Food 101” study for you. Today, I came across it… and spruced it up! And now, I'd like to share it with you all as we dive into SPRING! I hope this user-friendly guide is practical, informative, and inspiring. Simply, I hope this two-part series will give you the lowdown on the path to a healthy, anti-aging diet.

I was sure to base this list off research and my personal experiences. Since I dramatically overhauled my diet a bit more than a year ago, I’ve seen a huge difference in so many ways. My skin is clearer and looks younger than before. My hair is healthier and shines more. I’ve lost weight and have kept it off easily with my current (still in need of improvement) exercise routine. I have more energy, and most importantly, I am healthier and feeling better than I ever did before.

So I was thinking… Why not share that journey with you?

I am no one special, but with this realistic approach, I was able to get results that any woman could feel great about. Each month I added something good to my diet while removing something that was bad. I kept thinking, “I have to start small for this to stick.”

At first, it was hard to give up so many yummy treats, quick meals, and greasy snacks. And I’m not going to lie; they taste amazing. And like all of you, I love comfort food (particularly chips and dip or ice cream before bed). But once I started to see and feel the results, it was easier for me to continue down the road to ultimate health…

It’s a road I am still traveling down now. And like everybody, I have my ups and downs, and I have my good weeks and bad weeks… There aren’t any quick fixes or cure-alls like many drug, food, and exercise companies want you to believe. Ultimate health is really about hard work, dedication, and a long journey toward lifestyle changes.

TOP 10 “Must Haves” (#1-5)

1. Berries and Citrus-
a. What’s great about it? Berries and citrus aren’t only great-tasting and refreshing; they’re rich in vitamin C, folic acid, and fiber. That alone should inspire you to eat or juice your fruits. Vitamin C is an antioxidant which fights free radicals. Free radicals cause aging and disease. Just remember the darker the berry, the bigger the punch, when it comes to antioxidants.
b. How do I do it? To get a lot of berries into my diet, I started putting them in pancakes and on a low fat dollop of ice cream. I also mix them with nuts for a snack or dessert.

2. Nuts-
a. What’s great about it? Walnuts, almonds, pecans, cashews… they’re all good for you. Eating nuts fills you up which helps weight control, and a high intake of nuts dramatically cuts down on heart disease. According to Women’s Fitness, nuts help “your digestive and immune systems, improve your skin, and help control or prevent cancer.”
b. How do I do it? I upped my nut intake by putting them in my salads and on my dollop of low fat ice cream or frozen yogurt (along with berries of course) I also use them as a way to stay away from the vending machines, which are dangerous to a healthy diet. I just keep a pack of pecans in my desk at work at all times; they’re my favorite. Every time I get a bit hungry, I snack on them without any guilt.

3. Green Tea-
a. What’s great about it? According to Wellsphere, “Green tea is famous for being a strong antioxidant that exonerates toxic substances from the body.” It’s also been known to improve mental acuity, improve heart health, regulate blood sugar, and improve digestion. What’s it secret? It’s loaded with antioxidants.
b. How do I do it? It’s easy to have a glass of green tea every day, especially if you make it your special routine. I crave a glass as soon as I get home from work. I take my vitamins with it, and it helps me relax. Use green tea to replace your sugary drinks.

4. Fish-
a. What’s great about it? Seafood is essential to healthy living, not to mention, it fights the aging process with its omega-3 fatty acids. The American Heart Association recommends that you consume fish twice weekly. Be sure the seafood you are eating had scales. Seafood without scales, such as crustaceans, doesn’t have the essential nutrients and aren’t protected from mercury absorption. And of course, “wild” fish is highly preferred over farmed fish.
b. How do I do it? To get more fish in my life, I said goodbye to chicken. The only meat I eat is chicken, turkey, and seafood. Typically I would order meals with chicken or eat chicken at home. Know I’ve replaced my “meat” portion of my meal with wild salmon or whatever fresh wild fish my hubby picks up from the store.

5. Yogurt-
a. What’s great about it? According to WebMD, yogurt “has all the benefits of dairy foods, plus probiotics that help add healthy bacteria to the intestines.” It is recommended by many doctors that you eat a yogurt that has active cultures each day. Typically, one package of yogurt will be enough to fulfill you three daily dairy servings.
b. How do I do it? This is the ideal snack, breakfast, or dessert replacement. Yogurt is so versatile. Just pick how you’ll replace one aspect of your diet every day, and let yogurt be it’s substitute. With all the flavors and packaging out there, you’re sure to find the kind that works for you. I love vanilla and coffee low fat Yoplait yogurts for dessert or my afternoon snack. Drop so berries and nuts in a vanilla yogurt for an impromptu parfait.

*If possible, it is essential to buy local, organic, natural foods.

In Part II, I’ll share the second half of “Must Haves” for an anti-aging diet.

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Recipes that promise to be DELICIOUSLY tasty and healthy:
Dessert-- Citrus-Berry Parfait from Women’s Health: http://womenshealth.coverleaf.com/womenshealth/201004?pg=80#pg80
Snack/Breakfast-- Emeril's Whole Lotta Nuts Granola: http://abcnews.go.com/GMA/Breakfast/recipe?id=7281615
Dinner-- Paula Deen’s Pecan Coated Fish with Remoulade Sauce: http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/paula-deen/pecan-coated-fish-with-remoulade-sauce-recipe/index.html
Lunch/Salad--Mixed Greens with Berries and Honey-Glazed Hazelnuts: http://www.delish.com/recipefinder/mixed-greens-berries-honey-glazed-hazelnuts-recipe-5216

Sources:
http://www.webmd.com/healthy-aging/guide/anti-aging-diet
http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/health/diet/anti-aging-diet-tips
http://www.healthyeatingadvisor.com/food-labels.html
http://www.time-to-run.com/nutrition/worstfoods.htm
http://www.rd.com/living-healthy/4-most-harmful-ingredients-in-packaged-foods/article14901.html
http://www.womenfitness.net/anti_aging_food.htm
http://www.talbottteas.com/green_black_rooibos_tea_health_benefits.html

Blog Contest with The Colors Magazine

2010-04-15T07:00:00.000-07:00

The Colors Magazine is a website dedicated to celebrating life. If you like The Universal Soul, you might want to check it out. According to its founder, "The idea of The Colors Magazine is to make readers notice the beauty of life and let them color their miracles as bright as rainbows... to show life as it comes, depicting all aspects of it. Beautiful and ugly, happy and sad."

I like The Colors Magazine and pop over from time to time. In fact I've just entered "A Letter From Another Place" in a contest for Blog Post of the Month at The Colors Magazine. If you want to join in too or if you know a blogger who might, check out the link here: http://www.thecolorsmagazine.com/2010/04/show-your-best-march-contest/

Enjoy the day!

A Little Thing that Will Change Your Life

2010-04-11T08:03:00.000-07:00

The big things... We sure do worry about the “big things,” don’t we? We ask, am I successful? Am I a good person? Am I a good parent or spouse or friend to the ones I love most? Am I good enough at work or at school?

And in the hustle and bustle of our concerns for the big things, we tend to lose sight of a small thing (that really is a big thing) that should be present in every exchange we have, in every deed we commit, in every journey we venture on, and in every relationship we forge…

In today’s hyper-connected, get-it-done-NOW society, we surely lose sight of this small thing... When we’re in our cars, we zoom lane to lane in the chase for a green light. And we forget about the danger we’re putting ourselves and others in. When we’re in an argument, we are so intent on having OUR point of view heard. And we forget to listen. When we’re in school, we can’t WAIT to graduate. And we forget to enjoy those short years when everything is new and the possibilities are endless. When we’re at work on a Monday, we can’t wait for the weekend. And we end up sleepwalking through the week.

We might have the best job, the nicest things, a solid marriage, and healthy relationships with our kids. We might have a nice house, a pristine yard, and exotic vacation plans—the list can go on and on... But what we DON’T have is piece of mind. What we DON’T have is PATIENCE.

This culture and our wanting bellies demand it all NOW, and in that obsession with the “next big thing,” we are squandering the here and now. We are not mindful of the very moment we dwell in and all the beauty it has to offer.

Think of it like this: If we are always chasing after what comes next, how will we ever really live? When we get to where we’re going, we’ll arrive, take a quick look around, and be onto the next thing before we can ever experience that present moment fully. The whole pattern facilitates a sleepwalking kind of life, but in a fast-forward kind of way since we are all quite impatient.

In Whenever You Go, There You Are, the author Jon Kabat-Zinn eloquently explains patience like this: “[Patience] is a remembering that things unfold in their own time. The seasons cannot be hurried. Spring comes; the grass grows by itself. Being in a hurry usually doesn’t help, and it can create a great deal of suffering… Patience is an ever present alternative to the mind’s endemic restlessness and impatience. Scratch the surface of impatience and what you will find lying beneath it is anger.”

The idea of patience is sometimes seen as a little thing, but in many ways it is a very big thing. Patience allows us to embrace higher understandings and emotions that we would never achieve if our knee-jerk reaction was anger or haste.

Jon Kabat-Zinn depicted his vision of patience by asking this: If someone hits you with a stick, who are you impatient and angry with? The stick? The arm? The person who did it? Or what about the parents that failed him? Or better yet, what about the world or culture that was harsh to his parents when they were children? Aren’t you of that world? Aren’t you then connected? And in that understanding, can’t you find patience? Love is patient first.

Now that doesn’t mean that what that person did wasn’t wrong. It doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt. But what it does mean is that patience and understanding will help you cope with the experience and perhaps, in time, you will be able to show compassion.

When the Dalai Lama was asked why he was so patient with the Chinese, even though the policy of the Chinese government at the time and for many years was to practice genocide on the Tibetans as an assault to their beliefs, he offered this highly enlightened response: “They have taken everything from us; should I let them take my mind as well?”

This response, as Kabat-Zinn explained, was “…a remarkable display of peace… the inner peace of knowing what is most fundamental, and the outer peace of embodying that wisdom in carriage and action. Peace, and a willingness to be patient in the face of such enormous provocation and suffering, can only come about through the inner cultivation of compassion, a compassion that is not limited to friends, but is felt equally for those who, out of ignorance and often seen as evil, may cause you and those you love to suffer.”

We must have patience.

It can be small... Someone cuts you off in traffic. Will you curse them? Will you grow impatient? Or will you think about where they may be trying to go? Perhaps there is an emergency in their life? Perhaps not. But will you still be patient?

It can be big… Someone betrays you or hurts your dearest loved one. Will you curse them? Will you grow impatient? Or will you wonder about why they did what they did? Or worry about what need in their life isn’t being met?

Patience doesn’t make a wrong right. It doesn’t mean the wrong won’t hurt.

But what it does do is offer up a promise. A promise that you will be enlightened. A promise that you will be mindful. A promise that your actions will be right and just.

If we could just do this one little thing, we could CHANGE our lives! And though we may miss the target on some days, it’s surely worth the attempt.

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“The keys to patience are acceptance and faith. Accept things as they are, and look realistically at the world around you. Have faith in yourself and in the direction you have chosen.” ~Ralph Marston

Guest Blogger: "When a Tree Falls"

2010-04-08T15:29:00.000-07:00

Every week this month, I will be featuring a guest blogger/writer. I have three wonderful guest bloggers lined up thus far, but I need one more for the last week of April... Please contact me at TheUniversalSoul@hotmail.com with your stories, advice, experiences, and poetry!

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Ms. Mary Perez is our first guest. Her enlightening monologue below is an powerful message that reminds us of who we are and where we've been. It's vital that we know where we come from and that we are always mindful and present in our journey to where we are going...

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"When a Tree Falls"
By: Mary Perez

I appreciate this time to reflect; time to put my life in perspective. And, today, in this state of mind I began thinking about the question: If a tree falls in the forest and no one hears it did it happen? I liken it to how we remember those who have passed on before us…those who become a part of the changing landscape of our lives. How does it affect us? How do we interpret the loss once discovered?

When I think about my parents I could choose to feel conflicted about how I interpret my life. I could sustain a battle with the innermost me and fight the demons I might perceive because of a less than perfect upbringing to find fault and blame. I've felt conflicted. I've felt blame. I choose to live the rest of my life remembering all of the good they did and the lessons they taught me, what I learned from them as a young sapling that helped me grow. They loved me. They gave me life. I AM who I AM because of them.

And then I began to think upon my friend Roxann who left this world too soon. Why? She was an amazing woman: smart, creative, giving, funny. She had a beautiful smile that would light up any room she entered. In her passing, I will always remember her for all the good she did and the joy she shared. Her gift to me was her sunny smile and joy-filled laugh. They are with me always.

I am in contact with Roxann's daughter who writes warmly of her mother and honors her life in her own words. She is holding onto the good times, the good memories. Like most of us, I suspect, there may be moments of anger. Sometimes we have to go through one emotion to get to the other side of it; like the root of a tree reaching through the dry ground to find water. Roxann left her daughter with her gifts... She is an amazing woman in her own right.

My oldest and dearest friend lost her son Scott… far too young and more devastating than I can imagine. What does a parent learn from their child at such a time? How do we make sense of senseless? My friend holds onto her faith to keep her rooted on solid ground. And her roots are deep. She is a survivor. I remember Scott as a smart, loving, and sensitive young man. He loved his mother. He enriched her life. I didn’t know all of his struggles, nor the depth of them but I will always remember the good, sweet, and kindhearted person I knew him to be.

My parents, Roxann, and Scott live flawless in my memories… and my memories of them are precious.

My landscape has changed in their passing... but the memory of them only continues to enrich my life.

No one else may see the trees as they fall in our lives; what they will see are the changes to the landscape of our life.

The tree did fall in the forest. Even though I did not hear the sound of it hitting the earth, it's falling changed my landscape... and it is softer around the edges.

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About the Author:

Mary Perez is 57 years young and has been married to the love of her life for almost 30 years! She is an RN and has made her mark on the world helping others bring there new additions into it, as she’s been working in Labor and Delivery since 1987. In her spiritual journey, Mary found great inspiration in the words of Emerson and Thoreau, and she has studied them very closely. She is also deeply touched by the works of Robert Richardson Jr., Marianne Williamson, and Wayne Dyer.

Of her current spiritual state, Mary explains, “I have come to understand the value of the present moment and can bring myself to a calm and joyful place just by stopping in the midst of any moment and taking a breath... As I sit here I can find so much to appreciate… I believe we are meant to be joyful beings. I feel blessed to live the life that I live, but I know that by my intention I have been the creator of my life.”

Thank you again, Mary, for sharing your story!

POETography: Alone and Thinking

2010-04-08T13:26:00.001-07:00

POETography is when you post what you're thinking in words, phrases, stories, or poetry about the photograph above. It can be whatever comes to your mind. It can be a personal memory...

So what do you think? Comment here or at our Facebook page (http://www.facebook.com/pages/The-Universal-Soul/175779326361?ref=ts#!/pages/The-Universal-Soul/175779326361?ref=ts) with your thoughts, words, or poetry.
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As before, I've posted my response in the comments section to get the ball rolling. Check it out and post your own... Don't be a stranger! ;)
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Last month's POETography:
http://theuniversalsoul.blogspot.com/2010/03/poetography-man-and-woman.html

February's POETography:
http://theuniversalsoul.blogspot.com/2010/02/poetography-whats-she-thinking.html

January's POETography:
http://theuniversalsoul.blogspot.com/2010/01/poetography-haiti-dark-and-rolling.html

The Great Outdoors

2010-04-06T15:15:00.001-07:00

Maybe you've been wondering where I've been...

Maybe you haven’t, but I bet you’re wondering now…

I've been away, taking in the great outdoors…

Camping, actually. And it was rejuvenating and utterly peaceful. In fact, all I could think about were the words of Thoreau and Emerson as I gazed at the starry nights and glided across the rippling rivers of Florida...

But I'll write on my adventures later... and maybe post some inspired photographs…

But for now, here's your monthly dose of Emerson. Please do enjoy and make time this week to venture out into nature (if it's warm enough where you are, of course): camp, ride your bike, go for a walk, photograph the great outdoors, paint the great outdoors, write a poem or a letter outside, read your book in the sun, sit on your rocking chair on the front porch, lounge in your hammock in your backyard...

Do something to take it in! Because, as Thoreau once wrote, "There is a subtle magnetism in Nature, which, if we unconsciously yield to it, will direct us aright." It doesn't get more sublime than that!

Chapter 1: Excerpt from Ralph Waldo's Emerson's Nature

To go into solitude, a man needs to retire as much from his chamber as from society. I am not solitary whilst I read and write, though nobody is with me. But if a man would be alone, let him look at the stars. The rays that come from those heavenly worlds, will separate between him and what he touches. One might think the atmosphere was made transparent with this design, to give man, in the heavenly bodies, the perpetual presence of the sublime. Seen in the streets of cities, how great they are! If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore; and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of God which had been shown! But every night come out these envoys of beauty, and light the universe with their admonishing smile.

The stars awaken a certain reverence, because though always present, they are inaccessible; but all natural objects make a kindred impression, when the mind is open to their influence. Nature never wears a mean appearance. Neither does the wisest man extort her secret, and lose his curiosity by finding out all her perfection. Nature never became a toy to a wise spirit. The flowers, the animals, the mountains, reflected the wisdom of his best hour, as much as they had delighted the simplicity of his childhood.

When we speak of nature in this manner, we have a distinct but most poetical sense in the mind. We mean the integrity of impression made by manifold natural objects. It is this which distinguishes the stick of timber of the wood-cutter, from the tree of the poet. The charming landscape which I saw this morning, is indubitably made up of some twenty or thirty farms. Miller owns this field, Locke that, and Manning the woodland beyond. But none of them owns the landscape. There is a property in the horizon which no man has but he whose eye can integrate all the parts, that is, the poet. This is the best part of these men's farms, yet to this their warranty-deeds give no title.

To speak truly, few adult persons can see nature. Most persons do not see the sun. At least they have a very superficial seeing. The sun illuminates only the eye of the man, but shines into the eye and the heart of the child. The lover of nature is he whose inward and outward senses are still truly adjusted to each other; who has retained the spirit of infancy even into the era of manhood. His intercourse with heaven and earth, becomes part of his daily food. In the presence of nature, a wild delight runs through the man, in spite of real sorrows. Nature says, -- he is my creature, and maugre all his impertinent griefs, he shall be glad with me. Not the sun or the summer alone, but every hour and season yields its tribute of delight; for every hour and change corresponds to and authorizes a different state of the mind, from breathless noon to grimmest midnight. Nature is a setting that fits equally well a comic or a mourning piece. In good health, the air is a cordial of incredible virtue. Crossing a bare common, in snow puddles, at twilight, under a clouded sky, without having in my thoughts any occurrence of special good fortune, I have enjoyed a perfect exhilaration. I am glad to the brink of fear. In the woods too, a man casts off his years, as the snake his slough, and at what period soever of life, is always a child. In the woods, is perpetual youth. Within these plantations of God, a decorum and sanctity reign, a perennial festival is dressed, and the guest sees not how he should tire of them in a thousand years. In the woods, we return to reason and faith. There I feel that nothing can befall me in life, -- no disgrace, no calamity, (leaving me my eyes,) which nature cannot repair. Standing on the bare ground, -- my head bathed by the blithe air, and uplifted into infinite space, -- all mean egotism vanishes. I become a transparent eye-ball; I am nothing; I see all; the currents of the Universal Being circulate through me; I am part or particle of God. The name of the nearest friend sounds then foreign and accidental: to be brothers, to be acquaintances, -- master or servant, is then a trifle and a disturbance. I am the lover of uncontained and immortal beauty. In the wilderness, I find something more dear and connate than in streets or villages. In the tranquil landscape, and especially in the distant line of the horizon, man beholds somewhat as beautiful as his own nature.

The greatest delight which the fields and woods minister, is the suggestion of an occult relation between man and the vegetable. I am not alone and unacknowledged. They nod to me, and I to them. The waving of the boughs in the storm, is new to me and old. It takes me by surprise, and yet is not unknown. Its effect is like that of a higher thought or a better emotion coming over me, when I deemed I was thinking justly or doing right.

Yet it is certain that the power to produce this delight, does not reside in nature, but in man, or in a harmony of both. It is necessary to use these pleasures with great temperance. For, nature is not always tricked in holiday attire, but the same scene which yesterday breathed perfume and glittered as for the frolic of the nymphs, is overspread with melancholy today. Nature always wears the colors of the spirit. To a man laboring under calamity, the heat of his own fire hath sadness in it. Then, there is a kind of contempt of the landscape felt by him who has just lost by death a dear friend. The sky is less grand as it shuts down over less worth in the population.

Click here for more: http://oregonstate.edu/instruct/phl302/texts/emerson/nature-contents.html

The Living, the Dead, and the Dreams that Unite

2010-03-29T18:21:00.000-07:00

"Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined."
~Henry David Thoreau

"So often times it happens that we live our lives in chains
And we never even know we have the key."
~The Eagles

"Hold fast to dreams, for if dreams die, life is a broken winged bird that cannot fly."
~Lanston Hughes

"A skillful man reads his dreams for self-knowledge, yet not the details but the quality."
~Ralph Waldo Emerson

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I’m dying…

But so are you…

We all die.

Those three monosyllabic words are hard to accept, aren’t they? But make no mistake, there will come a day when the hands of time fall from out vigilant wall clocks and take us by OUR hands as they lead us into the great unknown.

So it’s agreed; we all see the same destiny. But what we do in the waiting room, which is so lovingly called life, is what separates our paths and determines how we will be remembered and how we will spend eternity.

I’ve often wondered what I would think about if I was staring down the barrel of a gun. Would I be fearful? You bet! Wouldn’t we all?

But, what else?

I am sure I’d be concerned with how my family would take the news. But I think I’d be most consumed by what there “would be” after the dust settles. What would be my legacy? What would be written below the years on my tombstone? How would my family tell my stories?

It’s a lot of questions; I know. But why not ask them now? Why not be mindful of the fact that we will all stare down the barrel of a gun.

I’ve heard from several ill family members that a lot of people don’t start living until they learn they’re dying. How strange... Aren’t we all dying? And yet in that knowledge, may I ask, are we all really living? Perhaps not.

Why must we be told “you’re dying” by a stranger in a white lab coat to believe that we are?

So, I’ve got to start planning things a little better. I’ve got to get busy living! I’ve got to figure what I want to leave behind in the hearts and minds of others. Because, friends, I am dying...

But don’t feel bad for me… You’re dying too!

On a serious note now, I’m thinking about my legacy again. What’s going to be the way I am remembered? What great parts of me do I want to be passed down and perhaps imbedded into the beautiful stories of my family’s history, or the beautiful dispositions of my future children? If I can only pick just a few things, I know I better make them great. So in the long run I’ve got to work on living out what I want my children and their children to take pride in. I want to be a woman who loved hard, forgave easily, and LIVED HER DREAMS...

Dreams are so precious.

Dreams breathe life into our darkest moments.

Dreams allow us to have the hope that we can climb out of the pit of despair.

Dreams allow us to see our better selves.

Dreams allow us to breathe a little easier.

Dreams push us to do extraordinary things.

Dreams give other the permission to think the impossible is indeed possible.

And sometimes, DREAMS are all we really have.

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Now, you may be wondering what's got me so focused on dreams lately...

Well, not too long ago, a man by the name of Randy Pausch—you may have heard of him—was given the terrible news that he was dying of pancreatic cancer. He was a young man. A husband. A father to small children. A college professor at the height of his career. He had every reason to LIVE.

But, as it often is in life, there is no fairness.

But instead of burying his head in the sand, instead of crying out a “poor me,” instead of throwing in the towel, Dr. Pausch did the extraordinary. He made his cancer and journey to understanding life about other people. Randy knew he had a great deal of knowledge to impart, with very little time to do it in.

So Randy started sharing...

His BIG thing, as he faced certain death, was to share his message to LIVE YOUR DREAMS! He could have said anything else: get an education, live a healthy lifestyle, get regular examinations… But instead, he wanted to leave one undying message to his loved ones and students as he stood before them dying: You must REALLY live your childhood dreams.

And from this sharing came his life’s work: a book by the name of The Last Lecture. It’s a powerful read, and I promise you will not be able to put it down. His words will transform your mind so that you can see the world differently.

Sadly, in July of 2008, Randy Pausch passed away. But his message resonates even stronger today and continues to touch millions of lives.

THAT is his legacy!

So in close, I must admit that to recap the length of his message would be a huge disservice to a wonderfully charismatic man. Instead, I will leave you with the “last lecture” that inspired his best-selling book… because—in life and in dreams—seeing is believing:

P.S. THANKS, Randy, for changing so many lives and for leaving your beautiful “ripple effect” on this world now that you are gone. I will always remember to live my legacy and to dream BIG because of you!

The "Landslide" of Change

2010-03-28T17:54:00.000-07:00

"Landslide"

Took my love and I took it down
Climbed a mountain and I turned around.
And I saw my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well, the landslide brought me down

Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
Can I sail through the changing ocean tides?
Can I handle the seasons of my life?

Well, I've been afraid of changin'
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes bolder children get older
I'm getting older too, well...

Well, I've been afraid of changin'
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes bolder children get older
I'm getting older too, well, I'm getting older too

So take this love and take it down
Yeah, and if you climb a mountain and you turn around
And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well, the landslide brought down

And if you see my reflection in the snow covered hills
Well maybe, well maybe, well maybe
The landslide will bring you down

~Fleetwood Mac

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I must admit; I really dislike change. I’ve always been too comfortable with what is predictable, safe, and familiar in my life. New places? New people? New job? A new chapter in my life? Yep, you guessed it… It totally freaks me out! How I wish I was a woman of whim and jet-setting. How I wish I was the one to roll with the punches or to be the one who simply packs up one day and move to a brand new place. There’s freedom in that disposition.

Even in relationships, I often hold on to “what was,” rather than accepting “what is.” And this dwelling really causes a great deal of misery for me. When a friendship has expired, I fret over what I did or what they did rather than embracing the memories and lessons and then graciously moving on. I know this about myself, and therefore I must begin to push for change in my life. I must embrace the change that comes and trust in its arrival instead of living in the past or hiding in my room when “change” is knocking on my door.

So in embracing “change” in my life, I wrote this note to myself, and it goes like this:

Life is about change, and change is about life. Too many times you refuse to let go for the sake of holding on, for the sake of latching onto the verisimilitude of power. As the minutes tick by and the days fade into the sunset, you are in fact changing. The person you were morphs into the person you will be, and only the wise are willing to go there. If you allow the natural progression of the Universe to become transformative in your life, you will be able to embrace the evolution whether it brings you joy or pain. For in both (joy and pain), you are able to collect lessons and priceless experiences. And in those bittersweet moments you can gain perspective and bask in gratitude. So why wouldn’t you?

As a child, you were bold. As a teen, you were prideful. But as an adult, you now have the divine opportunity to learn that both boldness and pride can be dangerous and even hurtful. You must embrace change so that you may grow. Change is a challenge; life is a challenge, and it softens you. And that's okay. You must let go of what was so you can grab onto what you will be.

So, what are you waiting for? Dive into the spring of change, and make no excuses as you swim around in it.

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The following excerpt was shared by Karen Ann Matthews on our Facebook community, and it speaks quite eloquently to allowing change to work miracles in our lives, and it warns that if we hold onto our past selves too tightly that we will lose out on the beauty of what is new:

"How many times have you heard someone say, "That's just the way I am," or "I can't change," How about, "This is me, take it or leave it!" Oh, how we fight to hold onto what limits us. Don't we realize, if our way worked, it would be working. Can't we see that holding on to what "I am" keeps us from realizing, who we... are? It is natural to resist change. It is insane to fight against it. For some reason we believe if we have to change, there must be something wrong with the way we are. The issue is not right or wrong. The issue is working or not working. Everything must change. The best can always be better. The fast becomes fastest. The great becomes the greatest. When we make minor adjustments as we see they are needed, we save time and the expense of a major overhaul. Behold, I do a new thing."

Acts of Faith by Iyanla Vanzant

A Letter from Another Place

2010-03-20T09:55:00.000-07:00

I’ve been reading The Time Traveler’s Wife, and I just watched the movie for the first time last night. I thought it was an amazing story and a novel idea (pun intended). And, yes, I cried…

The basic premise, if you aren’t familiar with it, is that a man can time travel from his real self to the self of the future and the past. While he isn’t able to change the course of events in his life, he is able to interact with people that populated his life (even the younger and older versions of himself).

Of course, my mind started to spin... Wouldn’t it be amazing if you could somehow give your past self advice from your future self on how to live? What would that be like? Would you listen? When I woke up this morning, this story about doing just that popped into my head. Please enjoy...

"From Another Place"
K.A. Phinney

I am an old man, and tonight, I am on my deathbed. How I got here, and how the time flew away on the backs of eagles, I do not know. But it happened. And as I lay on this bed, for perhaps my last night in this world, I have but two lofty hopes, both of which I pray carry me past the life of my body. First, I entreat that when I close my eyes tonight, I will be sent to Heaven. Who wants to believe there’s any other way in the end? And secondly, dear friend, I have a letter.

This letter, please take no offense, is not for you. It’s not for my friends, my love, or my children. It’s not for the world, my enemies, or strangers. This letter is a collection of words addressed to myself, the “me” of 50 years past, the young man I once was. I wish for a miracle tonight. For I know I cannot shake death, but I aim to change the living I did between my birth and now. When I leave for this new journey between Earth and the great unknown, I can only wish that this letter finds its way back to me, and that it can save the person I was and cultivate the person I will become. I have so much to tell him of life and love and the things he would not know because he could not know.

From what I can tell, as I look back on the path that led me to this moment, one cannot control the things the world brings into one’s life. But what I can surmise is that one does have say over how one reacts to their destinies and circumstance. So in writing to my younger self, my purpose is not to dramatically change my past (as I embrace what happened), but rather to improve upon the person I was in the moments I lived the very most.

So here is my letter, dear friend. Please keep it close and lay your hopes upon in so that by some otherworldly means, the words may rise up from the page after my death and find the young man that preceded me.

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Dear Henry,

I write you to tell you all the things you should know about living your life and loving others while you are upon this planet. It’s really a shame, as George Bernard Shaw once penned, that youth is wasted on the young. In youth, you have a robust life ahead of you, yet you lack the sacred wisdom to realize it. So in that neophyte stage of life there are minutes, and days, and years that are up for the squandering. Yet in your eldest state (when living life becomes but a memory) one finally possesses the skills and insight to embrace the minutes, the quotidian, and the smallest kernels of beauty in humanity and nature as an irrevocable gift from the Universe, from God himself.

Henry, I urge you to embrace whatever life brings you: whether it is a dream deferred, a death of a loved one, or a broken promise. I pray you accept these occurrences as part of a bigger picture. Accept them as you would a child, an accomplishment, or a widow in need. At birth we are but lumps of coal, but with the pressures of life and our proper care of it, the coals we once were can be transformed into diamonds.

Please do not let your pride and anger get in the way of forgiveness and moving forward. If you do, like this old man writing to you, you will have a great, great deal of regret (and continued pain, I might add). Though in the moment (by way of rejection or deceit), you may not see the virtue of blamelessness or even believe you possess the strength to forgive, you will see as the years glide that you should have dug deep enough to find those things within yourself. You could have forgiven and let go. People are far more precious than being right. Love is far more priceless than the comfort of your ego.

So with each day, when you arise, dear Henry, please listen to your wise elders and seek out their ways of erudition. The simple ignorance in youth convinces us that we are different or that we are the exception to the rules of the Universe. I can tell you, as an old man who has seen many years, that we are not. The sooner you accept that your soul is connected to every other soul that walks the plains and mountains and valleys of this Earth, you will be sure to be just as tender with each of them as you would your own soul. Because at the end of life, Henry, you aren’t caught up in your material wealth or the power you once wielded. You will only be concerned for your soul and the voyage you sent it on.

Please, take my words to heart. Rise up tomorrow as a new man, one with a young body and an old soul. To have both is a priceless miracle. In closing, I leave you with much care and affections. I leave you with the knowledge that you will live to see many years in this place. Be sure that you're spending them wisely, more wisely than I spent them, my dear self.

From another place,
Henry

The Things We Cannot Say

2010-03-18T17:07:00.000-07:00

I must admit; I love to randomly surf the web looking for inspiration… Welcome to the modern world, right? Anyway, as I was falling down the rabbit hole called Google, I came across a little story about the importance of telling people exactly what you think and feel no matter how hard that revelation may be.

And it got me to thinking… I pray tonight that none of us will live with the nagging regret of shoulda-coulda-wouldas because of the things we could not say: “I should have told her what I was thinking before she left,” “I should have apologized to my teen when I was angry, but now she’s not talking to me,” “I should have forgiven my father, but now it’s too late.” The list of regrets can go on and on if we aren’t willing to put love and humbleness and bravery before our pride or fear.

So here’s my version of the little story (of course, I had to spice it up a bit for you) that got me thinking about saying the things that I think I can’t say because of fear or pride… After all, when is pride and fear ever worth more than love?

“The Things We Could Not Say”
Retold by K.A. Phinney

In tenth grade, I loved this girl in my English class beyond the words I had to articulate it. People saw us as “best friends;” at least, I know she did. In class, I couldn’t concentrate on dangling modifiers because I was studying her dewy skin. I couldn’t crack Othello; I was wishing I could reach out and touch her fragrant, silky hair with my fingertips. She was that kind of beautiful.

After class one day, she walked up to me and asked me for the notes she had missed the day before. Of course, I gave them to her. She smiled that enchanting grin and said, “Gee, thanks,” leaned into me, and kissed me lightly on my cheek. Right then and there I wanted to tell her. I wanted her to know that I didn’t just want to be “friends” anymore, and that I loved her in every way. But I was just too shy, and I don’t really know why.

So a year passed, and one day, the phone rang. And on the other line was her sweet, sweet voice. Her boyfriend broke up with her, and she was in tears over her broken heart. She asked me to come over because she couldn’t stand to be alone. Of course, I did. As I sat next to her on the loveseat, I stared into her eyes, and I wished openly that she was mine and mine alone.

After talking for three hours, eating a gallon of ice cream, and watching When Harry Met Sally, she was caught somewhere between wakefulness and sleep. But before she tried to close her velvet eyes, she looked up at me, and she said, “Thanks for everything,” leaned in, and gave me an airy kiss on my cheek. Right then and there I wanted to tell her. I wanted her to know that I didn’t just want to be “friends” anymore, and that I loved her in everyway. But I was just too nervous, and I don’t really know why.

Before we knew it, it was senior year and the day before prom. She walked up to my locker to lament that her date was sick. She then reminded me of a promise we once made to one another in seventh grade: If neither of us had dates, we would go together, just as "best friends." And so we did.

On prom night, after all the eating, dancing, and festivities, I was left standing before her on her front door step. I stared at her as she smiled at me, waiting awkwardly for her to grant me a good night. But deep inside, I wanted her to be mine; I longed to be close to her and to know her secrets. But I knew she didn’t think of me like that. Then she said, "I had the best time. Thanks!" And in her perfect way, she leaned in and gave me a kiss on the cheek. Right then and there I wanted to tell her. I wanted her to know that I didn’t just want to be “friends” anymore, and that I loved her in every way. But I was just too scared, and I don’t really know why.

Days passed; then weeks passed, and before we knew it, it was graduation. I vividly remember watching her perfect form float across the stage to receive her diploma; it was as if she was an angel. But in that moment, all I could think was that I wanted her for all she was, but she didn't notice me like that; I knew it. Before everyone piled into their cars and drove off into a brand new life, she came up to me in her cap and golden gown with her arms wide open. She even cried as I hugged her, and then she lifted her cheek from off my shoulder and said this: "You're my best friend; thank you for everything." And like so many times before, she kissed me on the cheek. Right then and there I wanted to tell her. I wanted her to know that I didn’t just want to be “friends” anymore, and that I loved her in every way. But it was just too late, though I don’t really know why.

And like life so often does, it flew. The pages from my calendar fell off the kitchen wall, and on one of those nameless day, I received a phone call. Over the static-ridden phone line she told me, “This girl is getting married!” And soon, I was there to witness her say “I do” and cruise off into a colorful forever with another man, a man who surely wasn’t me. And though time had passed, and the years had changed us both, I still wanted her to be mine. But before she drove into her sunset, she came up to me and said, “Oh, you came! Thank you for being here for me.” And then, as if no time stood in the divide between us, she leaned in, stunning in her pure white gown, and kissed me sweetly on the cheek. And like so many times before, I wanted to tell her how I felt, but of course I didn’t. It was now clearer than ever that she didn’t feel that way about me.

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Now, here I am. I am sitting in the pews of an empty church again, but this time there’s a coffin beneath the cross, and there are enough tears left behind by the fresh mourners that they could set Noah’s ark afloat. The girl? Well she was mightily loved, and she was once my “best friend.” And as if saying goodbye from afar to a woman who didn’t get the chance to live a full life was hard enough, her older brother just handed me an old diary of hers. All he said before he walked away was, “She’d want you to have this. Thank you for everything you were to her.”

Sitting here alone now, I am flipping through its contents, broken. But I’ve stopped shuffling the pages because one page in particular stands out to me. Its smudged date reads the night of prom, way back when we were in high school, and this is what it says:

“I stare at him, wishing he was mine, but he doesn't notice me like that, and I know it. I want him to know that I don’t just want to be his friend anymore. I love him in every way. But I am just too shy, too nervous, and too scared to tell him. I don’t really know why. I just wish he’d tell me he loved me!”

I close the book and hang my head because I wish I did too.

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Source of Inspiration: http://www.boardofwisdom.com/

In the World of Dogs

2010-03-14T13:37:00.000-07:00

"The dog is a gentleman; I hope to go to his heaven, not man's." ~Mark Twain

"You think dogs will not be in heaven? I tell you, they will be there long before any of us." ~Robert Louis Stevenson

"To sit with a dog on a hillside on a glorious afternoon is to be back in Eden, where doing nothing was not boring - it was peace." ~Milan Kundera

In case you didn’t know, I write to you from Florida, and yesterday was one of the most beautiful days I’ve seen in a long while. The air was a crisp 69 degrees, the cloudy wisps were an ethereal white, and the sky was the kind of blue that was so bold it makes your eyes squint when you look at it. Days like this call your name, and they beg of you to go outside and experience the love of an early spring afternoon.

So after drinking our coffee and having our breakfast outside, my hubby had the wonderful idea that we’d make an impromptu visit to the beach (yes, Florida does have its perks), but where he was taking us wasn’t just any old beach…

It was Honeymoon Island, one of the prettiest and most happy beaches there is, and that’s because it’s a DOG beach! So, within minutes we were packing the truck and loading in the dogs... Swimsuits? Check! PB&J? Check! Copious techno-colored beach towels? Check! A good book and camera? Check! Leashes and water? Check!

Caesar and Grace (our rescued APBTs) danced and ran haphazard, puppy laps around the house, all the while barking at an uncomfortable decibel. They didn’t know where they were going, but they were ecstatic for the ride all the same. There’s nothing they love more.

So, after a great deal of waiting and pacing (the dogs, anyway), we were finally there! All types of dog of every size and shape ran about, chasing balls, digging holes, greeting strangers, splashing in the waves, and rolling in the sand. Caesar and Grace were in nirvana, and I thought, if this isn’t what doggy heaven looks like, then I don’t know what is. It’s amazing to see the natural joy that comes from a dog and how easy it is for them to find delight and entertainment. And because of these endearing antics, the humans were equally as happy and relaxed as the dogs were. They were smiling, laughing, running, splashing, and greeting one another too. Dogs seem to have that effect on us, don’t they?

But in all of this fanfare, one of the day’s experiences touched me most. It happened as we were walking Caesar and Grace down the beach, where the waves meet the sand. And there she was.

She was a Doberman, lean, sleek, and jet black. Large and majestic, this breed can be quite intimidating, but intimidating, she was not. And from where I walked, I saw that there was something attached to the trunk of her body. It was a mechanical extension on two light-weight wheels, which allowed her to glide across the sand dunes with ease. But as I looked closer, I realized that her hind legs were gone entirely. This contraption wasn’t a toy; it was a necessity. In that very moment of realization, I was overwhelmed by conflicting emotions. Part of me was clumsily surprised, while the other part of me felt a sort of pity. I felt bad for her, for her clearly loving owners, and her four-legged partner (another majestic Doberman). Poor thing, I thought, as I discreetly watched her wheel across the beach. I wondered if she felt badly for herself.

But then I realized a few things as I continued to observe her down the beach. Her owners were smiling and chattering and calling to her. He four-legged mate leapt about and teased her just as any dog would. And she was panting with that broad, toothy smile every dog owner can spot from a thousand steps away. She was happy. In fact, they were all happy; no one felt bad for anybody except me. And the most amazing thing was that all the other dogs on the beach didn’t care or didn’t realize the foreign apparatus belted to her trunk one bit. It’s as if they didn’t have the capacity to have pity or judgment for that little Doberman with no hind legs. She was just as much dog as the rest of them.

So yet again, our four-legged friends have something worthy to teach us... In the world of dogs, there is no pity or judgment. In the world of dogs, come as you are! And in the world of dogs, what you are is enough. Now if only we could translate those puppy proverbs into the human world… If only life was a dog beach, and we were the dogs.

But until that fanciful day, you should know where you’ll find me...

...THE DOG BEACH!!!

The Most Precious of Things

2010-03-10T18:26:00.000-08:00

“The ideals which have lighted me on my way and time after time given me new courage to face life cheerfully, have been Truth, Goodness, and Beauty. . . The ordinary objects of human endeavor -- property, outward success, luxury -- have always seemed to me contemptible.” ~Albert Einstein

Okay. So I’ve been thinking about life a lot lately (as if that’s something new), and I’ve been trying to rank the different ideals and characteristics we all search for and sometimes encounter in one another on a value scale. Forget about material possessions… I’m talking about the stuff of life here! And after much thought, I’ve sort of come to a conclusion, and I’d like to know what you think…

Studying the book of Proverbs, I noticed a trend. So I started poking around other religions (Buddhism and Judaism) and great thinkers and saw a pattern there too… I think that it’s safe to say that the two most important things we can seek out in ourselves and in others is truth and wisdom. These precious human commodities are worth more than gold. They cannot be bought; they cannot be gained in mere degrees, offices, or rank. They can’t be bartered for, feigned, or ill-constructed because they will fall like a house of cards.

TRUTH

Truth is a silver bullet, isn’t it? Like the Eightfold of Buddhism and the teachings of Christ, honest and right acts by way of our mouths and our doings leave us blameless and enlightened. The truth makes for a good pillow at night. The truth always rises, and it will set you free. You will be known by your truth (or lack there of), and it’s as pure and simple as that. If someone wrongfully accuses you, you can stand behind the armor of truth. And when someone tries to deceive you, if you look hard enough, the truth will always be found somewhere, waiting for you. That is the power of truth.

So, if we can manage to live truth and speak truth from our lips and in our actions, we can be at ease. But truth requires a full-on commitment. We can’t dabble in the truth or merely put it on when it suits us best. The truth is an unyielding shield, but it also invites arrows. Truth is sublime, and it can be a jagged pill to swallow. But in the end, it’s always better to be on the right side of the truth, isn’t it?

"The truth is heavy; therefore few care to carry it." ~The Talmud

"Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth… and there are only two mistakes one can make along the road to truth; not going all the way, and not starting." ~Buddha

"God offers to every mind its choice between truth and repose. Take which you please; you can never have both." ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Rather than love, than money, than fame, give me truth." ~Henry David Thoreau

"Humility is nothing but truth, and pride is nothing but lying." ~Vincent de Paul

WISDOM

And wisdom? It seems like an illusive commodity in this day and age, but it just might be the worthiest attribute to chase after. It is more than knowledge and intellect, which is the thing of books. Wisdom is the thing of life. Its ways and insights can only be earned by living life with eyes wide open. And sadly, many men live full lives without ever finding it. It’s as if they are groping in the dark for a destination that eludes them.

Wisdom requires reflection and solitude, but when we are able to find even a kernel of wisdom we are able to buy some peace or piece of mind. We are able to see things in a different light, and in the enlightenment, we are kinder, softer people. We are able to forgive our enemies because they are people first. We are able to put others first because we know everyone is in a struggle with someone or something too. We smile at strangers, and we learn to let the little things go so that we can be blessed by what’s important in this temporary journey.

You want to know what might be the best thing about wisdom? We can put it on in layers, just like warm winter clothes that protect us from the frigid snowy nights. Wisdom can be gathered up as we go about our lives. And if we are smart, if we are paying attention, then we will know to put it on in preparation for the next storm.

"By wisdom a house is built, and through understanding it is established; through knowledge its rooms are filled with rare and beautiful treasures." ~Proverbs 24:3-4

"How much better to get wisdom than gold, to choose understanding rather than silver!" ~Proverbs 16:16

"Never mistake knowledge for wisdom. One helps you make a living; the other helps you make a life." ~Sandra Carey

"The highest form of wisdom is kindness" ~The Talmud

"Just as treasures are uncovered from the earth, so virtue appears from good deeds, and wisdom appears from a pure and peaceful mind. To walk safely through the maze of human life, one needs the light of wisdom and the guidance of virtue." ~Buddha

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DISCLAIMER

Now some of you might be shocked... Why not love, you may ask. Love is the most precious thing! All you need is love (to quote the Fab Four), you might say. But isn’t it true that if a relationship with another human being is founded on truth and wisdom that then, and only then, can real love be grown? How can a bold, forever love last on anything else? Perhaps love is the result of truth and wisdom shared.

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What do think? What are some other precious human commodities?

Emerson on Friendship

2010-03-09T02:58:00.000-08:00

"But friendship is precious, not only in the shade, but in the sunshine of life; and thanks to a benevolent arrangement of things, the greater part of life is sunshine." ~ Thomas Jefferson

Friendship. What a beautiful gift from God. Do you have a friend in your life that has changed you? Pushed you? Saved you? Or taught you about life? There's no doubt about it, friendship—whether a lifelong bond or temporary encounter—is a relationship that is both powerful and transformative for those who are involved. Looking back, I can truly say that several of my friends have changed my life for the better, whether they’re still in my life now or not.

In his beautifully poetic essays, Ralph Waldo Emerson, the poet behind the inspiration for this blog, wrote on the topic of friendship in one of the most eloquent ways I've encountered. Please read his words and enjoy his spiritual message.

Emerson on Friendship

I awoke this morning with devout thanksgiving for my friends, the old and the new. Shall I not call God the Beautiful, who daily showeth himself so to me in his gifts? I chide society, I embrace solitude, and yet I am not so ungrateful as not to see the wise, the lovely, and the noble-minded, as from time to time they pass my gate. Who hears me, who understands me, becomes mine, — a possession for all time. Nor is nature so poor but she gives me this joy several times, and thus we weave social threads of our own, a new web of relations; and, as many thoughts in succession substantiate themselves, we shall by and by stand in a new world of our own creation, and no longer strangers and pilgrims in a traditionary globe.

My friends have come to me unsought. The great God gave them to me. By oldest right, by the divine affinity of virtue with itself, I find them, or rather not I, but the Deity in me and in them derides and cancels the thick walls of individual character, relation, age, sex, circumstance, at which he usually connives, and now makes many one. High thanks I owe you, excellent lovers, who carry out the world for me to new and noble depths, and enlarge the meaning of all my thoughts. These are new poetry of the first Bard, — poetry without stop, — hymn, ode, and epic, poetry still flowing, Apollo and the Muses chanting still. Will these, too, separate themselves from me again, or some of them? I know not, but I fear it not; for my relation to them is so pure, that we hold by simple affinity, and the Genius of my life being thus social, the same affinity will exert its energy on whomsoever is as noble as these men and women, wherever I may be.

Want more? Click here: http://www.emersoncentral.com/friendship.htm

Have a Little Faith (the Dog)

2010-03-07T10:17:00.000-08:00

There are very few things I love more than dogs, especially my two rescued American Pit Bull Terriers, Caesar and Grace. And most of you dog lovers out there would agree with me that dogs aren’t just pets; they’re family members that teach us how to live.

So when I saw Faith (the Dog) several years back on my television set, her story touched me, and it’s stayed with me until this very day. I am not exaggerating when I say this: When I feel down, I look up her story and videos on the web, and she picks me right back up again.

If you don’t know about Faith (the Dog), she’s got an amazing story to share. You see, Faith was born with two highly deformed front legs. They were so badly misshaped that the vet recommended Faith be put down. Luckily, the family that rescued this little pup had a little faith and decided to save her instead. They were determined, that somehow, they’d teach her to walk upright on her hind legs.

What happened next was surely a miracle:

So, you might be wondering just how this little miracle of a dog relates to us? Well, she does in most every way. Faith’s story and dogged spirit reminds us of “what it looks like to persevere,” as her owner put it so eloquently. And isn’t it amazing that God blessed even his four-legged creatures with the ability to persevere in the face of adversity? If Faith can walk on her hind legs and be joyful in the process, then why can’t we?

There are so many times in life when I’ve felt like I’ve lost my two front legs (metaphorically speaking, of course). Maybe it’s been an illness or death in the family, a struggle at my job, a fight with my friend or husband, or even a financial setback. Maybe it’s the loss of a dream or dealing with the fact that I let someone down. Or maybe I’ve been doubted or counted out by others, just like Faith. We’ve all been through it. But with an attitude and spirit like Faith, we can overcome our challenges whether they turn out just the way we want them to or not. And we can even be bold enough to trust that there will be a way to live better and be better in the aftermath.

But do you know what the most amazing thing about Faith is? Her struggle to overcome has gone on to bless millions of people, whether it’s been while she was visiting nursing homes, helping her community, or reaching us through the television set. If she had been an everyday-four-legged-pup, we wouldn’t be talking about her. If she had given up or if her owners didn’t have a little faith, we wouldn’t know about her struggles. It’s almost as if more good and blessings came out of her hardships than would have ever come if she had never struggled at all. And maybe that’s the single most important message we should take away from Faith.

I hope she’s as memorable and touching to you as she is to me... because Faith is here to tell us all something: No matter how hard it gets, no matter how overwhelming the hardship, we’ve got to have a little faith, and it will be alright.
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Find Faith (the Dog) here:
http://faiththedog.info/
http://www.oprah.com/oprahshow/Faith-the-Walking-Dog-Video
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oSB9aBMayxU

A Random Act of Kindness

2010-03-06T10:52:00.000-08:00

Just when you think you’re alone in your journey and the negativity in the world seems too much, God sends a little messenger to tell you it's not so. As cliché as it is, timing is truly everything, isn’t it?

Just now, at about 1:00 this Saturday afternoon, I walked out my front door after a morning of house cleaning and strong coffee to get the mail. Much to my surprise there was a man on my front lawn. Who was he and what was he doing? I wondered both. And then (yes, laugh) I was embarrassed because I was still in my pajamas (who needs couture when you’re scrubbing the floor)! But then I realized just exactly what it was he was doing, and my embarrassment turned into gratitude…

Crouched down on his hands and knees in the grass, he was picking up the garbage that the wind blew into my yard that very morning from the trash pick up. It wasn’t my garbage. It wasn’t his garbage. It wasn’t even his lawn. And in his mind, I am sure he knew there probably wasn’t going to be some sort of acknowledgement or reward. But here he was doing it anyway, and he was just fine with that. My neighbor from down the street was picking up other people’s trash because it was the right thing to do… the kind thing to do. He was paying it forward.

I think he was just as surprised as I was by the fact that I saw him. Who knows how many times I’ve come home to a perfect lawn after trash day because of him? I am sure it wasn’t his first random act of kindness.

So straight away, I called out to him, “Oh, wow... Thank you so much!”

He looked up from his perch on the grass and smiled. “You’re welcome,” he replied. And then he finished his good deed, nodded at me, and walked back toward his home. A large pile of garbage heaped in his arms.

It was as simple and straight forward as that.

Afterward, I was left smiling from ear to ear and felt incredibly humbled by his kindness. I could hardly make it down my driveway to get my mail. I was smiling that hard. I felt sort of unworthy of his quiet kindness, but I felt blessed by it just the same.

When I got inside, I was left wondering, how do I thank him beyond my words? How do I show that I am truly grateful for his simple act? Of course, the answer came to me quite quickly. I’d share it with you all, and then I’d be sure to "pay it forward" for a stranger this weekend. It will be part of my “adding something.”

Right now, as I am typing, I am also realizing that what he did really is a beautiful metaphor for all of us. We’ve all got garbage, don’t we? Sometimes it’s because of our doing, and sometimes the world blows it into our lives without our knowledge. But as people of substance, we can do something great. As we are picking up our own garbage, we are given a wonderful opportunity to pick up the garbage of others, whether they know it or not. We can walk into their lives, see what needs picking up, and do it because it’s the right thing to do. It’s the kind thing to do, whether they see us doing it or not.

So, two things more before I leave you to your weekend…

First, to my neighbor, thank you for what you did. It was small, but it was big. You don’t know it, but your random act of kindness inspired me and blessed me. And now, hopefully, it’s blessing others.

And finally, I have to know, readers... What random acts of kindness have you experienced or done for others? Please share! Your comments mean so much, especially on a topic like this.