Green Between Hearts

May 12, 2015Leave a comment

Green Between Hearts ~ Three Lessons on Connecting with Others

My husband and I recently enjoyed a company trip to a beautiful Cancun resort. Upon arriving, we received bright green wristbands in our welcome packet. We were told to wear the wristbands at all times, especially to meals and group events to help identify ourselves as part of the group.

Early the next morning we went down for breakfast. As we proceeded down the long corridor to our ocean-side breakfast destination, I noticed a peculiar trend. People wearing green wristbands were smiling and greeting each other with a friendly recognition and, “Good Morning!” When there was no wristband, there was no greeting. The bearers of the band would literally walk by naked wrists, turn their heads the opposite direction and not even make eye contact. I watched throughout the day as complete strangers began conversation initiated by a green-wristband-association, while others wandered around in silence and avoidance. In the busy, populated beachfront resort, community was born with a color – a rubber bracelet – labeling and defining our connection. We were a group – a community. The public tag of “association” turned previous strangers into friends. Our trademark gave us an assurance that we had something in common and invited us to strike up a conversation. Courage from the rubber bracelet gave us a power to connect, share, converse, and exchange contact information.

Sadly, complete strangers riding the elevator, or lounging at the pool, would not be spoken to when there wasn’t the signal or invitation provided by the green wristband marking our newly formed conglomerate of familiarity. I watched as those with green bands initiated conversations in elevators but excluded those with no wristbands. The bearers of this green assembly walked past those without wristbands in the name of networking, community, and common purpose. The emerald bangle created an instant classification system garnering safety, comfort, recognition and community for those with the opportunity to adorn the trinket. But those without weren’t included. The friendly green-banded posse was an exclusive club.

The green wristbands inspired my own campaign. I decided that I would initiate conversation with those around me – green band or mostly not. The children made it easy. Talking to, smiling at, and playing with toddlers splashing at the pool was sure to lead to a new found friendship with their parents. We exchanged words, laughter, recommendations, ideas, and beautiful companionship. We talked about our lives – our homes, family, vocation, and the joys of our day. In every moment, regardless of location, skin color, nationality, language or green wristband, I made connections: the family from Mexico City on vacation with their friends and small children, the family from Brooklyn – where the relocated wife from Vietnam was missing her family back home, the family from Atlanta who shared their immigration story from Nigeria and exchanged entrepreneurial inspiration. For someone uncomfortable initiating small talk, I easily made some meaningful connections.

What were the lessons? What is the invitation? Connect with others!

Lesson 1: People want to connect. We crave connection and relationship. We want and need to belong. We are an interconnected, interdependent species that thrives in community. We tend to look for safe and familiar ways to create that connection. However, for many, that is not easy. Without the traditional markers of community association, we shy away from talking to strangers. In our fast-paced, high-tech digital world, high touch is a powerful prescription. Slow down, bring yourself into the present moment, and give it a try. Connect with those around you – in person. They likely long for personal connection as much as you do.

Lesson 2: You can always find something in common. You may look at others as strangers or simply people you just don’t know personally yet. Finding commonality is as simple as saying, “Hello.” To begin, just be who you are: reach out, shine your light, and smile. Make eye contact and speak with a simple greeting. Better yet, share an authentic expression of your experience. Look beneath the surface of things and connect with your essence. You are sure to find something you have in common. Maybe you overhear them using a beautiful name that you have an affinity for. Maybe you appreciate their conscious, gentle parenting style. Maybe you make eye contact by playing peek-a-boo with a toddler. Maybe you offer assistance, your service in opening a door, helping a stranger in need, or gifting something unique to the moment. It is likely that because you are in the same place at the same time, you will find something in common to build an association around, even if only temporary and transient in nature. And don’t stop with strangers. This is a great practice with your not-so-familiar friends and neighbors, the checker at your local grocery store, the waiter at your favorite restaurant, and the co-traveler on public transportation. Put down your excuses and artificial barriers and engage.

Lesson 3: Connection contributes to health, longevity, and a meaningful quality of life. Reaching outside of your comfort zone and entering the space of others, builds your psycho-social-spiritual muscles. It’s a practice that develops confidence, courage, compassion, and most importantly, unity. Finding the common humanity behind our differences is good for our individual and collective soul. Begin connecting with others as a routine spiritual practice. Your world will blossom with possibility, potential and greater well-being. The energy of creating new connections will attract more and life will begin flowing with ease and grace. Try it. Research shows that quality relationships and being in community increase your overall health, happiness, productivity, longevity and well-being. Its a win-win.

When I returned home from Cancun, I had a dream I started a green wristband campaign where I purchased thousands of wristbands and began giving them away to anyone who expressed an interest. I called it “Green Between Hearts.” Everyone organically began talking, making heart connections, sharing and building community. It was a beautiful dream. I’m holding that vision. Will you hold it with me? Let me know if you want a wristband, or two, or a hundred of them. I’ll get to work on it right away (smile).

A World of Love,

Julie

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My Colorful Greek Garbanzo Bean Prayer

April 18, 2015Leave a comment

I love to make up my own recipes. I was in the mood for a Greek salad with “substance.” That called for my famous Greek garbanzo bean concoction: a colorful celebration of nature’s most delicious flavors beautifully combined in a visual pallet that is sure to please the other pallet. I opened my new jar of Calamata olives and popped one into my mouth. Ugh, they were not pitted! How was I going to make my Greek salad without Calamata olives? I was not! More importantly, how was I going to pit them? Cutting them off the pit was not efficient. And then I noticed: when I smashed them, they naturally separated from the pit. Then I could squeeze the pit out one end. It was messy, but appeared to be the solution. As I stood smashing and squeezing, the juice ran freely through my fingers and onto my cutting board. The smell was heavenly Greek. When I was done, I chopped them so no one would ever know I smashed them.

Vibrant hues filled my glass bowl as I added bright yellow peperoncini, regal red peppers, stately green cucumbers, those deep purple olives, and finely chopped red onions to my pallid garbanzo beans. Next, the aromatic mix of olive oil, balsamic vinegar, lemon juice, garlic, basil, sea salt, and my favorite pepper blend. Oops, I almost forgot the Feta Cheese. Yum… it was calling my name! I stirred it all together with love and lifted my spoon to my lips. Disappointment! It tasted like nothing special. In fact, I would say it didn’t taste like much of anything at all. The secret ingredient of many good things is time. And, like fine wine, my gregarious Greek medley deserved a moment to merge, mingle and unite in melodious glory; time to transform – imbued with delightful new succulent flavors.

Ah, yes… a little time proved to be the answer! It was delicious. As I looked at the beautiful salad I wondered if there was a way to imbue peace, harmony and unity in a world of many colors, races, religions, beliefs, and politics. Stirred with LOVE, maybe time will tell. That is my colorful Greek garbanzo bean prayer.

A Declaration of Hearts

March 24, 2015Leave a comment

We are unity consciousness, consciously embodied. For the peace that passes all understanding is ours. Together, we weave all separation into a sacred expression of whole — for the Good of the Whole. We use our creative power to consciously express a life and world of harmony, beauty, and love. This is our sacred communion. This is our moment.

With this joining, we say yes to a life of divine purpose and cosmic alchemy. Infinite love transforms our lives and the world around us as we express from the heart and consciously generate truth, compassion, joy, and freedom. As a collective force, we develop clarity of knowing to consciously unleash an expanded vision and an inconceivable reality. It is ours.

In our being and becoming, we experience harmony and unity with Creation herself and fully activate the heart. We heal and transform our relationships, community, the earth, and ourselves. We deepen into the conscious embodiment of wholeness and navigate a higher-level existence based on an interdependent and co-creative universal design. In our precious communion, we realize resonance, enlightened choice and abundant joy in this and every moment.

Herein lies the peace.

Speaking Truth with Love

February 27, 2015Leave a comment

Several times over the past few weeks, things have come up in different situations that have reminded me how important it is to SPEAK TRUTH WITH LOVE. I was on the phone with a client this morning and the topic came up again. There are several bible verses that speak to this. I “Googled” and discovered ninety-nine! Ninety-nine different verses that address the importance of “speaking truth with love.” In Ephesians it talks about unity and maturity. By speaking truth with love, we mature and grow into our wholeness and oneness as a humanity.

Why does it have to be so challenging for us to speak truth with love? I want to throw out another idea. Lets practice RECEIVING OTHERS’ TRUTH WITH LOVE. When we receive others without judgement, reaction, criticism or fear, it opens them to share more of their truth and more of their love. When they open it builds trust. They, in turn, will begin to receive our truth with love. Rumi said, “Out beyond ideas of wrong doing and right doing, there is a field; I’ll meet you there.” Let’s all meet each other in that field and practice communicating truth with love.

Our Last Supper

February 15, 2015Leave a comment

My youngest sister called yesterday and asked what I was doing Sunday. When I asked why, she invited me to join her for a Kentucky Fried Chicken dinner. My heart quickened, forcing a lump to emerge in my throat. I was moved and the invitation was perfect.

I have been wondering for weeks how I should spend February 15th. I began playing “Lyle Lovett Radio” on Pandora. I started looking at pictures and re-writing last year’s love letter. I was noticing things – like the Christmas package from Mom that I hadn’t put away – filled with his things. My garage door opened on its own one day without any explanation and later I heard music from a music box echoing sweetly through my house. I don’t have a music box.

My oldest sister got a memorial tattoo. My mom sent a beautiful card with a special keepsake enclosed.

Then another peculiar thing happened. My healing left ankle, which I broke six months ago, began to be extremely sensitive to touch. The skin hurt as much, if not more than, the joint pain. Even the soft fleece lining of my favorite Ugg slipper was too much contact. The covers on my bed, the hem of my jeans, the cushion of the chair, everything was causing me a different kind of agonizing pain. I would look at my skin and inspect my ankle. I would hold it softly and try to comfort myself. I rubbed lotion and a healing ointment on it. I witnessed myself kicking the covers off at night and hanging my left leg out. And then there was the night…

Every night this week I woke after a brief time of slumber. Just a few hours into my sleep I found my self wide-awake and alert, unable to return to sleep. Why? What was different?

The Kentucky Fried Chicken invitation shifted everything and woke me to an epiphany. I was re-living the last days of my dad’s life. My three sisters, mom, and I were with him during that last week one year ago. I didn’t sleep much during the nights. I was awake often and took my turns sitting quietly by his bed in case he needed anything. His comfort was important and the pain in his left ankle accelerated as time passed. He couldn’t stand touch, or even a light cover, on that ankle. He often had his left ankle sticking out of the covers on his bed. When the dog or cat bumped it, he grimaced and let out a howl.

On Valentines Day, we listened to his favorite music, laughed, told stories and talked on the phone with family members back home and in Wyoming. Everyone was sharing the love and expressing it openly. My dad loved Kentucky Fried Chicken. It was his favorite meal. That evening, friends generously brought him a feast from KFC. We fed him and joked around with him as he was saying the funniest things. We even began writing them down so we could remember. It was a beautiful day of love and that was his last supper. We had our own blessed, intimate Eucharist just one day after the pastor delivered Holy Communion to his bedside. That night we communed with a sip of his favorite beer, biscuits, his favorite chicken, a deep profound love, family conversation, lots of laughter, and a sweet abiding faith.

One year later, as I sit here listening to his favorite music, I am reminded of that last sacrament and how divine grace filled the room, nourished our hearts, and sustained us during the next twelve hours and over the past twelve months. The benevolent presence of the Christ Light was real and palpable that Valentines Day and evening. It was a precious gift of the ultimate LOVE in life and in death.

I’m looking forward to Valentines Day tomorrow and a Kentucky Fried Chicken dinner this Sunday. Thanks, Dad. I love you.

A Father’s Day Confession

June 15, 2014Leave a comment

If actions speak louder than words, I have failed. I wonder if thoughts count? You know – thought, word and deed? My thoughts, words, and intentions around Father’s Day are always more in alignment with how I live my daily life. My deeds… well, not so much.

Every year I would make a mental note to be more organized and plan ahead. Guilt and failure usually waited patiently in the dark corners of my psyche. Then, Father’s Day would arrive and sure enough, my own self-fulfilling negligence would likely spin me down into the “Bad Daughter” syndrome. No gift was bought. No card was sent. A nice phone conversation would have to do – that is if I could catch him home and available. He would likely be out golfing. Once in awhile I would call my sisters a few days before and the perfect plan would unfold. But mostly, not.

I don’t remember what I did last year, if anything. I likely recognized him with that good, long telephone conversation.

Oh, how time flies between Father’s Days. Time moves quickly… days… weeks… and months go by. And as time has gotten shorter, the distance between our homes feels farther. How did that happen? Secretly, I wanted him to move closer to me when he retired. Instead, he moved 600 miles in the opposite direction. The road between us was not paved with convenience and ease.

So, what do I do for Father’s Day this year?

I know. I will love and enjoy my children a little bit more… and spend the day with lots of family. Surely being at the lake, playing in the boat, and sitting in the sunshine would make my Dad happy. I will listen to his favorite music – my Lyle Lovett playlist on Pandora – all day. I don’t like beer, but I will offer up a toast for him. We will crank up the grill and cook outdoors. We will have lots of good food, laugh and tell jokes. And with all the extra cars and jet skis around, surely something will have to be “tinkered with.” Someone will have to get their hands greasy. Yes, we might have to lift a car hood just out of respect. And later tonight, after a game of butt quarters, we will definitely hit some golf balls out of our yard, and smile… and remember!

Will that be enough? Yes.

This Father’s Day it’s been exactly four months since my Dad left this Earth to be with his Heavenly Father. But before he left, he gave me the ultimate Father’s gift – unconditional, unrelenting and unequivocal love. All that self-imposed-negligent-bad-daughter-syndrome disappeared. I’m not forgiven, because there never really was anything to forgive. All the years of thoughts and words WERE enough. All the telephone conversations were perfect. And now, toasting to him at the lake is perfect.

Happy Father’s Day, Dad! The distance between our homes may have stretched many miles… but there’s no distance between our hearts – not any more. It feels as if you are right here with me, because you are. I love you.

Dawn of a Universal Humanity

March 20, 2014Leave a comment

I am moving out from darkness into the light. I feel a new kind of energy quickening. The dormant seeds of possibility are waking inside. The unconscious is moving into consciousness with new impulses, ideas, and opportunities. Its time to let go of my safe, resting retreat, the quiet milieu of nature’s darkness, to venture out into my luminous potential.

The impulse of creation is moving. A lively, spirited instinct encourages me to move, push, go forward, and expand outward. Yet, the familiar perennial signal feels different somehow.

It is different.

The darkness is fading. I push through the dense frozen ground of sleepiness, through to the light of this spring where the awakened world of enlightenment waits to greet me. As I let go of my personal, protected resting place and re-enter community, it feels changed. There’s no separation. The collective field is supportive, loving, and nurturing in a way that inspires greater connectivity. The essence of spring is consumed with the emergence of co-creative genius – aligned with Source, in harmony with nature, resonant and engaged with others. It delights my soul.

With the next push, there’s a familiar recognition. I remember. We are giving birth to Global Consciousness. This is it! We have welcomed the Essential Self into life and relationship, overcoming egoic obstacles with robust persistence. The dawn of a Universal Humanity is here. I can feel it. Now, as I listen to those seeds of possibility, I hear only the harmonic resonance of the collective good. I am only content, when the whole is whole again. I let go of “me” and surrender into the joy of connection, remembering who I am in the wholeness of who we are. And, I push. There’s no more time or space for my dormant slumber.

The sun crosses the celestial equator as I embody this balance and welcome the light. The life force rises with overwhelming intensity. I celebrate, with gratitude, for the equinox ushers in a fresh, unified state of being, as hopeful as the first tulip bloom after a long frigid winter. I emerge and stretch upward to meet nature’s genius. The warm light bathes my curiosity. She signals. It is time. I break into song and bloom with the new dawn.

His Last Breath

February 17, 2014Leave a comment

Before my first child was born, I keenly remember the moment when I desperately felt like giving up. Not managing my pain well, I wanted the unbearable process to stop. I literally wanted to quit, pack up and go home. However, it was a blessed event that was irreversible and forever life-changing. There was no stopping the process once it had started. The only way out was through.

Contractions in my lower back, coupled with my first-time-mom fear-of-the-unknown, made it nearly impossible to relax and surrender into childbirth. After pushing for over two hours, the doctor finally asserted he was stepping in to use forceps and assist in the delivery.

A few minutes later, our son was delivered and took his first breath.

Sitting by my father’s bed, I witnessed his laboring. Cycles of shallow breathing, weakened pulse, and peaceful pauses, were interrupted with what felt like excruciating labor pains. Wincing and moaning, he journeyed through an endless rhythm of contractions as he prepared to leave his body. At the moment we thought he was delivered into the peaceful embrace of death, another wave of un-surrendered life had him laboring for enough breath to get him through the next contraction.

Flashes of that moment – giving birth so long ago – grabbed my attention. I saw my father in an arduous dance within the portal of death, managing his own labor and delivery. I recognized myself sharing his fatigue and resistance. He had labored for hours. Fear of the unknown lingered in the room. With compassion, I wanted the process to stop. In my discomfort, I prayed for a quick and easy delivery. I observed myself in my own self-induced-suffering, not wanting him to suffer. But I knew this was another one of those blessed events that was irreversible and forever life changing. He had to go through it. I could choose to experience his death in a limited state of separation, resistance and pain; or I could shift my reality and open to the expansive, sacred knowing of this BLESSED MOMENT.

I paused, took a deep breath, and tuned-in to the resonant love in the room. I called on my higher self and quickly discovered a cosmic harmony within the life cycle of birth and death. My Essential Self witnessed this eloquent process and myself within it. The mystical doors of the Universe opened, as I experienced the tremendous grace and deep meaning in the Holy process. Instead of fear, pain and suffering, I found peace. I was handed a precious gift and consciously chose to claim and receive it. I stepped through my own portal of embodied consciousness and became fully present. Surrendering, I relaxed into the process and became one with it.

Death was my father’s journey. We all wanted to be there for him to support and comfort him. We desired a peaceful resolution. However, this was his delivery and only he could labor through the process and move through the transcendent birth/death canal. This was work of the soul. He, alone, had to go through this narrow portal to deliver himself.

The Hospice nurse, Lisa, in her palliative wisdom, intuited the same thing. She kindly invited us to step away and rest in another room for a while, allowing my dad to fully expand into his sacred work. We were all there with loving intentions to support him in the process. Yet, our roles as wife and daughter perhaps kept him in a place of resistance and emotional interference, keeping him in his earthly role as husband and father. It was time for him to release himself and give birth to the celestial role of his greater essence.

Her gentle suggestion was the perfect healing balm. The short time of physical separation, assisted in his ability to relax and surrender. Having us step away allowed a Heavenly Mid-wife, with divine forceps, to step in and assist. He let go, moved through the portal, and finally found peace.

A few minutes later, my dad was delivered and took his last breath.

Love Whispers from My Dad

February 14, 2014Leave a comment

On this Valentine’s Day, I sit beside my father’s hospital bed at 3:30 a.m. He sleeps restlessly through the pain in an incoherent state of tolerance. I put my hand on his hand, and without missing a beat, in his sleep, he whispers, “I love Yaaahz.” He softly winces and moans then becomes quiet again.

In the middle of the family room, he is bundled under layers and layers of blankets, hand-stitched quilts, and crocheted throws, with his left foot hanging out of the covers on purpose. I’m sitting on a folding chair next to his bed with my own layers of pajamas, a sweater, and a vest. We are both warm and uncomfortably cozy, under the circumstances. Through his irregular breathing, wincing and moaning, whether asleep or lucid, he continues to whisper messages of love: “I love you, oh how I love you.” Moans of pain, his cough, and the sweet sound of his love-whispers become a new kind of clock, marking time as it passes in the middle of the night.

He wakes himself up with a loud, grimacing noise. I put my hand on his shoulder and he quiets down. Gently, the sound of the Home Oxygen Concentrator and a loving presence, rocks him back to his shallow rest, but not before he sends out more love, “Ahhh… I loves ya, Jules.”

“I love you too, Dad.” I quietly reply.

In the darkness, with the dim light of my computer, I reflect on what a beautiful Valentine this is. I am soaking in the bittersweet, merciful love of his last days. I am communing in the grace-filled resonance as he creates discordant music with his breath. This love is infinitely real and deep, delivered in a delirious container of pain. The benevolent moment is so precious.

A whimper, then a loud groan brings me back into the moment. It’s time to roll over. We work together to find a comfortable position on his left side, prop pillows in the perfect places, and rearrange the covers. “How’s that, dad?”

“Oh, its good… its good until its not,” he says and quietly drifts back into the feverish abyss of his restless reality. The whispers, moans, and cough continue into the early morning hours. And time passes…

He wakes again with an unpleasant howl, “OH-Oooohhh-OH!” then quietly, “I love you, honey.”

“I love you too, Dad. Can I get you something for the pain?” I ask.

“Oh, no… I’m okay. It hurts more everywhere than anywhere.” He answers in his kind way, then turns to me, “Why don’t you go lay down in the recliner and try to get some sleep?”

I reply, “I’m okay, Dad. I’m sitting here writing love letters on my computer.”

“Ah… that’s good! Real, real good,” He replies with enthusiasm, “I LOVE YOU!”

“I know, Dad. I love you too.” I whisper in gratitude. And time passes…