The Soul's Rhythm - John O'Donohue

We should not force ourselves to change by hammering our
lives into any predetermined shape.  We do not need to operate
according to the idea of a predetermined program or plan for our
lives.  Rather, we need to practice a new art of attention to our
inner rhythm of our days and lives.  This attention brings a new
awareness of our own human and divine presence.

It is far more creative to work with the idea of mindfulness than
with the idea of will. Too often people try to change their lives
by using the will as a kind of hammer to beat their life into proper
shape.  The intellect identifies the goal of the program, and the
will accordingly forces the life into shape.  This way of approaching
the sacredness of one's own presence is externalistic and violent.
It brings you falsely outside of your own self and you can spend
years lost in the wilderness of your own mechanical, spiritual
programs.  You can perish in a famine of your own making.

If you work with a different rhythm, you will come easily and
naturally home to your self.  Your soul knows the geography of
your destiny.  Your soul alone has a map of your future, therefore
you can trust this indirect, oblique side of your self.  If you do,
it will take you where you need to go, but more importantly it will
teach you a kindness of rhythm in your journey.  There are no
general principles for this art of being.  Yet the signature of this
unique journey is inscribed deeply in each soul.  If you attend to
your self and seek to come into your own presence, you will find
exactly the right rhythm for your life.  The senses are generous
pathways which can bring you home.

John O'Donohue
from Anam Cara

via The Beauty We Love

Reflections on a Mother...

After a rather poignant moment at Christmas, when my mother squeezed my hand after we hugged good-bye, an unheard language was transmitted through the hands: Love – something not easily expressed between us - and I had these reflections…

I wish I could have had a different relationship with my mother – more open, authentic, and loving…  I feel sad that it couldn't have been different.  Because of our personalities and the dynamic in the relationship from the beginning – an unseen dynamic unfolded between the two of us; which has now softened as she becomes more fragile.  She is losing more and more of her vision, her abilities and faculties.  There is less cognizant ability to understand what is being asked of her.  Her brain cannot handle too much information or stimulation.  But maybe love is emerging…  Maybe that is what is left when the body-mind mechanism begins to fail…

She covers it well, talking mostly in clichés – turning the personality on – speaking from the face – the mask.  But don’t ask her what she had for breakfast, or what she did yesterday, or what the doctor told her – it will scatter and scramble her brain.  And she will hide from you…  and turn the conversation back to you and ask:  And how are YOU doing? – just to avoid the difficulty of holding a conversation…

Sometimes she gets frustrated and angry because she is losing her abilities.  I feel the frustration too, as well as sadness and compassion for her fragility, vulnerability and woundedness – and the relationship we never had, but which now seems to be emerging in an unexpected way.  There is a softness between us now – sometimes - a caring, a loosening of defense mechanisms that served to protect each other from each other - sometimes.

And now in her “failing” years I wish it could have been different – that I could have been more present and more open to her, to not have closed off my own heart, but to have really seen the illumined heart of love that was really there, in both of us, behind the dynamic without the mask that veiled that Love.  I know that when she dies I will grieve that, and the relationship we never had – and maybe even the one we lost – and the one we might have had. 

In some ways my heart has already started to grieve the love we missed: a  genuinely loving mother-daughter connection; and yet it is not over…   Maybe, just maybe, our hearts will open to each other.  It seems they are beginning to...

Photo:
 a picture of my sister-in-law’s and mother-in-law’s hands…
My mother-in-law is in a Nursing Home with Alzheimer’s,
and yet there is still a “connection” through touch…

I made comment to my sister-in-law that it was interesting that
in some cases we can’t really connect with our mothers
until they are fragile and vulnerable,
and become like children again…

Blessings to Mothers and Daughters

Rapids and Turbulence

It seems like it’s been one thing after another lately. Actually it’s been quite turbulent for the past 7 years, starting with husband relationship issues, and then health issues for the past 6 years, leaving me with erratic health and varied levels of stamina. Then my husband left “the corporate life” a few years back for his own sanity, and has been trying to get a consulting business off the ground for the past 2 ½ years in a difficult economy, as well as trying to find other income streams, redefining “the business” as he goes – losing our healthcare insurance in the process. And there are a myriad other things that seem to go “wrong” on a regular basis.

For instance in just the past week it cost nearly $2500 to keep our nearly 20 year old car running and able to pass inspection. And then for some unknown reason we had a musty odor arise from the crawl space, which I think we may have mitigated on our own, but still may require hiring a professional. And we turned the furnace on for the first time this season on Monday when temperatures dropped 30 degrees and “Fall” arrived one day early with a rain/snow mix, warning us that this might be a big winter coming. And up from the vents arose another musty odor and my respiratory system went berserk. So the duct cleaning people will be here Saturday to ream out the system for a mere $400… And on it goes it seems. One thing after another. It led me to wonder what kind of karma we have going on - although I’m not convinced that there is such a thing… Maybe there was a mirror that I broke way back when? I would prefer to believe that I haven’t done anything “wrong” to “deserve” this long stretch of, dare I say, “tribulation.” And if it is in fact THE Tribulation then I expect I will be “raptured” any day now. But no, I remind myself, it’s just life, being what it is, living itself as it does – not a punishment for wrongs committed.

Now I’m not saying “poor me” here – as I know there are many of us in the same boat. It’s uncanny to me, from reading other blogs, how our lives seem to parallel each other. We all seem to have rather weighty issues that we’re dealing with these days. No one’s issues are more or less weightier than another. They’re just issues – experiences that we go through for whatever reason. Yet they are sometimes like a wolf at the door – huffing and puffing.

And since life has sort of been “in our face” for so many years, struggling to keep our heads above water, my husband announced on the 17th that it was “Turning Point Day.” So we had one of those “quality of life” conversations, and determined it was time to make a few life changes. (I actually felt relieved that he finally came to this realization himself! I’ve been gasping for breath for years! :) We came to the conclusion that we need to sell the house… It is requiring way more time, physical exertion and money than we are willing or able to give it. Yet it is nowhere near sellable condition. There are multiple expensive repairs needed as things have been put off in these turbulent years. My husband is not the handyman type. There’s also 13 years of well-organized, and not so well organized clutter here, which I have wanted to purge for a long time, but never had the motivation or the energy. So here’s my excuse to fire up the internal engine as much as possible and get ‘er done – a little at a time mind you. Last week I started in my office/work space with the piles and piles of un-filed papers, unfinished projects, and just junk that I never seem to be able to keep up with. I don’t even want to *think* about the basement. And, the other issue: Where are we going anyway, not qualifying for rentals, or another house? The street isn’t exactly the “quality of life” we’re looking for – nor is it an option. And that’s thinking too far ahead at this point anyway. Another excuse to get entwined in the mind - which is not where I want to go either…

So it’s one foot in front of the other - stepping back from the precipice of panic, resting in Awareness and practicing Presence, trusting, maintaining sanity as much as possible without feeling too overwhelmed about what I assume lies ahead of us: the seemingly daunting rapids of life – as I’m about to turn 60 btw – where it appears we are about to be spewed out of a water chute and dropped into a pool of churning, turbulent water, without a kayak or paddle for that matter. Does that mean we’re up Schitz Creek? :) Maybe. And I thought we already went down that one, or was that down the tubes! And I wanted a nice, quiet, contemplative, “spiritual life!” Another illusion shattered…

In any case, in our “quality of life” conversation we each defined what that would mean for each of us. Interestingly we both really want the same thing: We want to hear the song of Life again. It has somehow been muffled. We’ve lost the ability to *hear* the song, to feel the rhythm, to play the notes. We don’t have a sense of Life’s song, the song that wants to be sung through each of us. The life we are living now has pretty much suffocated our ability to sing, and we’re tired of almost drowning. So, we need to discover again what the song is that wants to be sung, and make the necessary adjustments – always adjustments - and of course remember to Ride the Wind and “take the rabbits.” :)

So if you hear a slightly wobbly tune wafting in the breeze that will be me trying to find the right notes. :)

Heart Smiles as always…