Love Thy Neighbor

June 12, 2015Leave a comment

“Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.” ~ Judaism

“A new commandment I give to you. That you love one another; even as I have loved you… By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”
~ Christianity

“A man obtains a proper rule of action by looking on his neighbor as himself.” ~ Hinduism

“Full of love for all things in the world, practicing virtue in order to benefit others, this man alone is happy.” ~ Buddhism

“Seek to be in harmony with all your neighbors, live in amity with your brethren.”
~ Confucianism

“No one is a believer until he loves for his neighbor, and for his brother, what he loves for himself.” ~ Islam

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.

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.

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.

I am the One

July 20, 2012Leave a comment

I am the one who tends and cares for the soul.

I am the one who brings spirit to life.

I am the expression of Creation, creating Herself.

I am the art of All-Knowing; the dance of Divine;

Sweet music in the moment; and poetry of presence.

I am the one who brings life and voice to our universal knowing,

Remembering and igniting our brilliance, our beauty, our being.

I am the one expressing the One.

I am the One expanding the one.

I am the one emerging from the One into the greater one.

Embodying the voice as my own, I lose myself —

and I’m made whole; one; C O M P L E T E.

Finding the Source

January 22, 2012Leave a comment

The water was disappearing more and more all the time. Our sacred backyard sanctuary had a leak. The pond needed to be filled every couple of days.

We put the pond in ourselves in 2004. We really didn’t know what we were doing. We researched for years and decided to go ahead with our limited knowledge and experience. We ordered a kit, rented a backhoe, and followed the instructions. It turned out beautifully and we enjoy it immensely. The Koi and gold fish are maturing and the water plants need little care. But that “limited knowledge and experience” piece does come back to haunt us.

There are two important steps the instructions did not cover adequately. First, how important sealing the main seam is! Second, they never mentioned that the liner needed to be fitted inside the waterfall spill-over. We paid careful and diligent attention to the main seam when we sealed it. I believe it is a waterproof seam serving us well. But the other issue with the waterfall spill-over has caused us grief.

We knew we had small amounts of water leaking around the waterfall, but feared a much bigger problem. It seemed like a daunting task to tackle the leak. Surely it would require de-construction and re-construction.

One Saturday I was working in the gardens – weeding, moving plants, and playing with the stone around the pond – when I noticed moving water where it wasn’t supposed to be. Outside of the waterfall and creek a small trickle of water was discovered. I began moving rock, pulling mint plants, and clearing out roots of a reed that sucks water from the pond. Slowly but surely I made my way up to the source of the leak. There, before my eyes, water was emerging from a place I never imagined.

I vacillated between joy and hesitation. Would this be a simple fix or a major de-construction project? And then, two simple solutions quietly emerged. First, we could carefully work with the liner and simply re-route the water back to the pond. Or second, we could fill the hole with concrete; creating a dam or plug, and hopefully the source of the leak would re-route itself down the waterfall. If you know the temperament of moving water, the second option could be risky and wasn’t likely a viable solution. So, I began working with the liner to catch and re-route the leak.

I expected the worst. Fixing the leak seemed like such a big project. But I was delightfully surprised to find a gentle little stream of water where it wasn’t supposed to be. For now, the liner has been manipulated to re-route the water and it seems to be a manageable solution.

There are times in my life when I experience energy leaks. Finding the source means two things to me. First, it is important for me to understand where my leak originates. Where and why am I loosing energy? Finding that source helps me address the issues and move back into wholeness. Second, finding my Source, my center, the spiritual essence of who I really am, is a powerful daily practice. This Source is an abundant stream of powerful energy that fuels my life. This infinite Source of love and light can heal any leak, wound, block, or congestion, and move me into right relationship with myself and the world around me. Having an intimate and infinite relationship with my Beloved Source illuminates dark shadows, ignorance, and self-doubt. This constant companion is so life-affirming!

So, when something is out of balance and I’m feeling low, all I need to do is be still, go within, and find that Source… She leads me beside the still waters. She restores my soul!

Spirit