The End is Near.

There is still snow on the ground and it’s the end of March. The sun is out more often and I just learned a new fact, which explains why it doesn’t feel warmer.  When there is snow on the ground, its energy is used not to warm, but to melt the snow.  Add to this fact, the layers of ice and snow on the ground making it feel cold.

I sit on a bench near a pond watching a pair of geese resting upon the still frozen pond. Aren’t they cold? Are they awaiting like me for the ice to melt? 

This winter seems to reflect my life. Long, cold, dark and difficult. The transition from winter to spring this year reflects my life also—leaving me with the fear that these dark and difficult days have no end.

We had a few warm days late winter. Then we were pulled back into winter’s harsh conditions. Here we experienced unseasonably cold days even while the Solstice arrived upon the calendar—staying cold for a week or two after its arrival.

This week we have experienced warmer days while also being warned by meteorologists that another cold blast is on its way. If I were to take reality for what I see and experience right now, which I have grown accustomed to doing during these dark days, allowing myself to accept what is and finding reality more substantial than fantasy, then I would  wonder will spring ever spring or will it be winter forever?

I moved back home to Minnesota in December after spending two-and-a-half years in California. If I were not from Minnesota I would aasume winter is all it has to offer.

 

But I know spring arrives and she does so when she’s ready. On her own time. Not to scorn us, which is what we might believe the way some of us complain about the weather. She does so by her wisdom. Her way. Her truth. The only way she knows.

But even while I say this, some days the best I can do is muster up the strength to only consider that somehow someway new life is inching its way toward me. Some days it is so hard to believe that underneath the ice and snow is a powerful force rumbling. The geese know it as they sit in the slightly frozen pond. The chickadees know it along with all the other birds whose songs spring forth during this time. And in some moments I can take this knowing and apply it me like a salve, reminding me I too am of nature and I follow its rhythms.

Although its been dark and cold and this is all I have felt, and could see there is a power rumbling in me. A power that will melt the ice and the snow. She’s spring birthing new life—and she is in me and in you.

The Soul Reporter

 

 

 

 

Stiff Like Winter.

A Short Spiritual Memoir: Gradual Growth & Awakening ~

 

I feel stiff like winter.

I long to thaw like spring—and

See what transpired in darkness and struggle.

 

My life has felt harsh and ugly for so long, like those last days of winter when the snow is gray and the sky matches, and you have had enough of those bitter winds biting your bones. I don’t want this anymore. I want kind and beautiful. I find it again on a short walk. The day is as my daughter describes it: she will not sweat and and she will not freeze. It is a day of transition from winter to spring—a glimpse of what is to come.

As I walk I ask for more of myself to be revealed. I stop and look through the bare tree to the sun peeking through the gray. The song of birds remind me I am back. I needed to come back—home to Minnesota where I experience these transitions from winter to spring and later, summer to fall.

I know I have been through something awesome and difficult, and feel like everything will be alright now—at least for awhile. The end of an era, and it makes me cry. The tears thaw my stiffness and shed my heaviness, and prepare me for the warmth which is to come.

Thank God for this transition of tears. Sudden joy and elation might startle me otherwise. It is these days of transition: 32 degrees. Sun shining hazily through the gray, which make life of deeper meaning and connection possible and compatible with our ever-evolving soul.

As I end my walk, a woman approaches me and asks, “How’s the path?”

“It’s fine,” I tell her.

 

The Soul Reporter

 

 

Finding Joe. Finding Me.

F

Finding Joe~ A Review

There is one story within all stories, and in the documentary, Finding Joe we, for many of us, rediscover it is what Joseph Campbell called The Hero’s Journey.

It seems since What the Bleep there have been several documentaries which try and do what Bleep did: have a cast of  experts in their fields and spiritual teachers speaking in between a story line of some kind. For me, no other documentary did as well as Bleep until I watched Finding Joe, a documentary about Joseph Campbell, but more about The Hero’s Journey.

While watching, this theme of The Hero’s Journey hit home. I’ve been living my own hero’s journey, which goes something like this~

First, there is a call to adventure. For me, this was to abandon my cul-de-sac life in the suburbs for another lifestyle on the island of Maui. From here, there is a series of events—a meeting of obstacles, which test the core of who we are and everything that surrounds that core. Again for me, I never made it Maui, but instead met many monsters and dragons upon my path.

Upon facing these dragons, there comes a point when we begin to make a turn, essentially we come back to tell of our adventure and what we have learned. Finding Joe tells us that it is better to have a story than an explanation. The story is the gift.

Finding Joe is also a gift for those who watch. I promise it will speak to you wherever you are on your Hero’s Journey. Here are the insights I had while watching:

• It confirms The Hero’s Journey is an inner one where we confront our inner barriers and claim our inner resources–and on this journey we are seeking to go beyond illusion to what is real and true. This is the most heroic journey we will ever take. 
• It reminds that on this journey we must allow ourselves to keep dying and unfolding, and transcending the worst that has happened to us. This is how we evolve.
• It reveals new questions to me in regard to following my bliss: What makes me different and what were the things I wish I did? It reveals a question about where I find myself presently: Why would I build this current situation I am in, and then look at it and say—I can’t. In asking this question, I realize I can’t give up. I must move forward despite my fear and continued unknowns upon my path.
• I gain awareness of what my biggest fear is at this time: What if I am left out. What if I don’t matter. Within this awareness is also the wisdom, strength, love, patience that I have gained so far upon this Hero’s Journey and I can use all of this to knock that dragon out.

Are you living your Hero’s Journey? See if you can’t find what your holy grail is—what is your call to adventure? Have you had this call? Are you ignoring it? See if you can find the arc of your story. Where are you in it? What dragons have you met? What dragons do you fear you will meet? What treasures? Lessons? Gifts? And, how can you express this story and change lives? 

To learn more about Finding Joe, go to the website.

To be a fan, like their Facebook page. 

To order the DVD go to amazon.

If you’ve seen the documentary or have a Hero’s Journey of your own, please share here.

The Soul Reporter

 

 

 

The Lion’s Den

Do you ever feel you are walking right into the lion’s den?

Source: zasu.tumblr.com via Julie on Pinterest

Driving in my car the other morning, scanning the series of turns I have made in recent years, I wonder: am I walking right toward the lion’s den? Here I’ve been, making several turns in my life, hoping—even at times full-heartedly trusting it’s the right turn—thinking perhaps I’ll avoid more suffering and gain more stability, thinking perhaps the ground will look clear and I’ll be on a new path. But, at each turn the road seems to get darker and this is when I wonder am I walking right toward my own destruction?

What if this is true? What if I am indeed walking right toward the lion’s den? If so, what is getting destroyed on the way to the den? What will the lion rip to shreds should I actually go right in to her den? I realize as this journey to, and perhaps in the den goes on, my heart feels like it’s breaking. But, it’s not. It’s actually opening. Expanding. Awakening. The lion, it turns out, is eating the thick flesh surrounding my beating, awakened heart. Not my actual heart.

This is the gift of the lion. Yet, in our minds we create schemes all to avoid this eating. But, the lion will and does have its way. As we avoid her prowess, we walk right into it. And it is not the eating that causes suffering, it is the hesitating, the resisting, the scheming and staying around the periphery of the den that brings the most misery.

But, so many of us have to do this. So many of us, for so long have to stay on the outskirts of this den or maybe even venture far away from it—but, we will all eventually end up in her den, being ravaged by her teeth. Our flesh will be eaten. It is also eaten while we avoid the den. It is eaten while we sit and stare and fear at the den. This slow eating of the flesh, of our small self is what prepares us for the ultimate destruction. The destruction of that small self. We are being prepeared for this encounter—all of us.

As I have moments of this awareness I welcome this and say: let her eat and skin me alive. For, it is the only way to come alive. It is the only way toward true intimacy and union with our higher self. It is the passageway toward truth and as a subscriber on my fan page said in response to my question: Do you ever feel you are walking right toward the lion’s den—? Only those who have the heart of a lion can do it.

It turns out the eating of what surrounds my beating, often aching, but alive heart is what makes me feel less afraid. It turns out the walking toward what will ravage me is my salvation.

Let me say this again: It turns out the walking toward what will ravage me is my salvation.

 

Source: commons.wikimedia.org via Alex on Pinterest

As I searched for a photo for this piece I realize the story of a lion’s den is in the bible: Daniel in the Lion’s Den. He was thrown in the den for praying, but was left unscathed because of his faith in God. It adds to what I am sharing here: the more conscious we become of this journey, the more faith we will have as we walk, and perhaps even the more we will want to be eaten.

The Soul Reporter

 

These Aren’t Problems.

After experiencing several years of serious challenge and upheaval, I have been recently perplexed by those who think these are problems:

Scraping the ice and snow off the car windows in the morning.

The morning commute with said ice and snow (unless of course you spin out or get stuck).

Having to go to work and school.

Not having appetizers in the fridge if someone spontaneously visits your house. 

Almost having a car accident.

Considering I have no house, no car, no job at the moment, and have been in a car accident, I consider all of these nice “problems” to have.

However, I am sure there was a time I would have thought these were problems. I’m glad I am no longer that person. I have lost a lot, especially in terms of material comforts and security, but what I have also lost a lot of, a loss that I am realizing makes me feel like the richest woman alive is arrognace and ignorance.

As I continue to lose these, I am gaining the virtues of flexibilty, patience and compassion (although I have more to gain to have compassion for those who think that these are problems).

We all go through challenging times, but will we allow these challenges to change us? To strip us of our arrogance and ignorance so that we become more conscious? Or will we hang on to them, and continue to see little things as big things and big things as little things and not be changed?

The Soul Reporter

 

 

Sometimes the Road is Like This

Another short spiritual memoir~

 

The path was icy on my walk the other day. It made me mad. I just wanted to walk—walk lightly and not timidly, afraid to fall. Walk without a care instead of having to be careful. But, sometimes the road is like this.

As I resist the road like this, I wonder: Why do we hate the ice on the road—the obstacles on our path? My answer: We fear our fate. We fear the fall. We fear our incapability. Yet—we do not have to be at the fate of a fall- always.

We can go off to the side where the road is clear or filled with soft snow, which grounds our steps. Or we can walk slowly and tightly uneasy the whole way, ensuring we don’t fall. Or we can let go a bit—find the resources we have, such as swinging our arms which keep us balanced.

But, sometimes even when we are balanced and loose we may fall. This is just life.

A bit later in my walk, as I continued to resist and hate the ice, I found myself in my head demanding the birds sing. Here I was out for a stroll mad about the ice on the road and irritated the birds were not, at the very least, singing to make my stroll more relaxing. At this point I realize: Wow—have I ever been demanding lately? I get why. Most of my mind has been preoccupied on events I have no control over. The ice on the road. The birds in silence, and a great many other things.

This is just life, and sometimes the road is like this.

The Soul Reporter

Don’t Be So Quick.

Allow for S P A C E~

Source: scoop.it via Susanne on Pinterest

When so much has occurred, when a life has crumbled, when we find ourselves in transition it is not wise to be so quick to rebuild and configure. It is not wise to fill our lives up with perhaps more of what we don’t want or might burden us in a new life.

For instance my daughter met a dog at the humane society. Its tail between its legs. Its loneliness hooked into hers and she wanted him. She wants to fill her life up, and it would begin with this lonely dog. From here she would need to move out of our temporary residence and into a place that supports this dog and the income from her new job. If this occurred, then she would build a life around taking care of the dog: who will take care of it when she is at work, for example. It will also need vet appointments, dog food and attention.

I tell her from my own experience not to be so quick to fill her life up. I tell myself the same as I look around and see the emptiness from years of a former life that has crumbled and a new life that has yet to begin. Emptiness is uncomfortable for many of us. When I taught classes on clutter, I’d ask the participants to imagine themselves in an empty room. I asked them to pay attention to how they felt in this room. What were their impulses, if any? Did the mind fill the room quickly with things and people or did the room stay empty?

Source: ledansla.blogspot.com via MONOSQUARE on Pinterest

Some people felt relief in the empty room. But more often this exercise brought anxiety. There are unconscious impulses inside of us, which paint a life. If my daughter were to get the dog she would be rescuing a lonely animal, and this is a heartfelt sincere impulse. But, also she would believe that this dog was also rescuing her own loneliness, which is a deep and unconscious impulse, which cannot be satisfied, except temporarily, from anything from the outside world. There are women who have babies because they think they will finally have someone to love them. As those of us who have or have had babies know, we must love them and fulfill their needs and not the other way around.

Another example: my mother, during a time she was losing her home, had me over to help her go through her things. In her bedroom was her chaise lounge. In her former life, where she had lots of money and traveled, this chaise was filled with outfits that would soon be going in her suitcase for one of her excursions. This chaise was always filled. But, with little money left, this chaise was filled only with pillows- lots and lots of throw pillows.

Well, when I looked at her chaise lounge, knowing that she was in transiton and cannot travel as she once did, I see this as an opportunity. I see her on that lounge, reading and enjoying time with herself—perhaps imaging her next chapter. Seeing this image of her, I took the throw pillows off so she could actually sit down. Within minutes my mother found the pillows and put them back on.

In my mind, she could not handle seeing her travels and former way of life going away. She couldn’t see a future beyond this. She didn’t want the space or the possibility of something new. There are many difficult twists, tests and turns in a life, and this one I am personally witnessing is one of the more difficult: to allow this space of emptiness. To see the former life for all that it was in order to understand and make some peace and then to sit and be still silently in that space without allowing our impulse to fill the space.

If we do not allow for this space I can gaurantee one day we will stop and notice our life and see that once again it is filled with obligations, things, people and expeirences that are not enhancing and enriching our lives, but merely filling it up and keeping us stuck and stale.

Spring is on its way, and with it new life. During this transition, it is wise to allow for space. To be thoughtful. To listen and pay attention and embrace the emptiness between what was and what will be. And perhaps, someday we will find all there is, is this S P A C E.

Let’s allow for some freshness, to reawaken us—however long that takes.

The Soul Reporter

This month I am taking names of people interested in one-0n-one sessions, support groups, and classes. The focus of these services is what I wrote about here: taking an investigative look into our impulses—both the conscious and unconscious ones. As we explore, we will gain clarity about who we are, where we’ve been and where we are going next. It is an opportunity to invite in more space in our cluttered lives.

If you are interested, please fill out the form below and I will contact you shortly. (All sessions, groups and classes done online  unless in the Twin City area).

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A Practice with the Unseen.

Everyone sees the unseen in proportion to the clarity of his heart. ~Rumi

Let us not be fooled that our experiences are merely events happening to us—but, in fact, events happening for us.

I have taken up drawing again. My first drawing was one I copied of a tree. Then, I looked up at the trees outside my window and saw the moon peaking from behind the bare branches. I added the moon to my drawing just as I had seen it outside, and then an owl. I then saw an image in my mind—an old man with a craggily finger pointing toward a long road.

I drew the old man and his wrinkly finger. The wise old man was saying to me: Go, for the road is long. Not only is the road long, but it is unknown. Who knows what we will find there, what twists and turns, treasures and obstacles we will find on our road.

Little did I know that on my road in the past ten years I was shedding tears of suffering, loss and disappointment at each turn in the road not realizing that this turn wasn’t as bad as it can get. It can get worse, and it did. When I first began the journey, ten years ago, when I left my home in the cul-de-sac to live my dreams, I did not know these twists and turns were coming. I thought, arrogantly, hopefully and ignorantly so, I was going to a better life. I didn’t realize the life I was leading was the better life.

Now, I sit in the basement of my father’s home ten years later having given up everything for a dream. This latest turn has brought me to a place inside of myself where I have given up all hope. A place where I no longer think everything is going to get better, even though that is what everyone keeps telling me. A place where I am afraid to keep walking on the road, even though the wise old man tells me to go. Yet, even in this place, I have miraculously pressed on.

I see I have an opportunity here. It occurred to me in the kitchen of my father’s house this morning—I can begin a practice with the unseen—again. I once lived in the unseen, a time before I allowed the stuff of life to take me down into the mud of doubt and shame. The place of the unseen is of Spirit, where a spiritual wisdom lies. It lifts us from the mud, if only for a moment, so that perhaps as Rumi states, our hearts become clear.

This latest turn has been so muddy and murky, it seems I forgot I am of Spirit- that this space exists. Or maybe more true—not forgotten. In fact, I remember Spirit, but felt it had left too, like so many other things, which has caused even more suffering. Here I have been, a person who has devoted my life to my spirituality, and yet, I wasn’t even feeling held by it anymore. I thought it had let me go.

But, every once and awhile, in quiet moments I am lifted above the mud. I see that this experience, this latest turn is happening for me. This is the perspective of Spirit. It asks—what if this crisis is spiritual? What if this experience isn’t happening to me as some cruel twist of fate that is trying to destroy me? What if it is actually happening for me so I again return to Spirit, to apply all that I have learned and practice my faith in the unseen.

The Soul Reporter

Paint with Love.

Source: xxjenliu.tumblr.com via Casey on Pinterest

Love is the key- the simple solution but often so hard to achieve.

It has been a long while since I have written, at least anything of great length. I was in transition- I believed from bearing my entire soul on each blog entry, which I have done for many years, to something entirely new, although I didn’t know what. But, it turns out that wasn’t really the transition I was making.

You see, there was something going on within me, beneath the surface- a battle of sorts. On my spiritual path, I’ve faced many of these, and the ultimate one is between love and fear. This battle of love and fear is what was rumbling.

In this battle love does not fight. In fact, love gently and powerfully leads the way even, it seems, when it looks like fear is winning. We often talk about choice, especially in this New Age of The Course in Miracles and positive self-help: choose love over fear, these teachings tell us. But love has already chosen us. The work then becomes knowing this in a conscious and connected way. This is our evolutionary route—back to love and what we can choose is whether we want to be a conscious participant or not on this journey.

I have a personal example. Tonight, during a conversation with my significant other, I watched myself move from being led by fear to being led by love. It seemed to have happened instantaneously, but actually there have been signs this transition was on its way. And, finally tonight I was able to put it into practice. I guess I could say I chose this practice of leading with love, but mostly it just happened as a natural course of my evolution of consciously participating in my route back to love.

As it happened, this transition to love, I kept going with it because it felt so good. It was so liberating. Somehow I knew there was a solution here- an answer I had been looking for, a remedy to my present suffering. I thought: so damn simple, but God  how I have suffered. In this one moment, in this exchange with my husband, I kept throwing love whereas I would usually throw more fear. In my fear I don’t give him the benefit of the doubt. I am paranoyed, afraid he might leave me. I cling and control. Nothing gets resolved and only more pain and suffering ensues.

I always thought it was because I was co-dependent and crazy, which yes, there are many moments this appears true, but actually I love this man. I love him a lot. And I guess this love has frightened me, and instead of taking this love and painting beauty with it, I have taken it, hoarded it, been ignorant of it, and allowed it to almost turn preverse and paint ugly with it. (And of course, it hasn’t helped I have been hurt in this relationship as well).

As my fear told me he was purposely avoidng my calls and texts and I began to feel that familiar panic, love was there and allowed me to be honest. To say things about what was really going on inside me. I actually merged with the truth, instead of swimming around it where the fear lurks, and the truth of this moment was—I don’t want to hurt anymore. I will believe him. I will love in the face of adversity, stress and fear. I will love. Love is the safety net, the simple solution—nothing else.

But this simple solution is not always easy to come by, even though we talk about it like it is. The reason why it is difficult to go to this safety net is because it takes quite a bit for us to get really honest and really real with our selves, with what is really going on within us. We are afraid of the fear and afraid of the love and we move around in chaos and confusion until finally we don’t want to hurt anymore. Until finally we want and are ready for a solution to our suffering.

To love, I mean really love in the face of fear and adversity takes preparation—almost as though we must prepare to receive the love that is within us. We must be ready for it, therefore this process cannot be forced. It must unfold, naturally, and it will. It does. It is.

Love is the gentle force behind the fear. There will come a time in its unfolding when it breaks through and shows us its power and lets us feel its presence within us. That is the time of liberation and restoration. And then love can become our practice. Our way. Our truth.

The Soul Reporter

Stop Trying to be Grateful.

Source: flickr.com via Pete on Pinterest

The other day I made a list. The idea to do so arrived spontaneously.

I will write down everything I am unsure about—all of the issues and questions, currently outstanding, which remain, for now, in the mystery. 

 

As I made the list, I was amazed at how many unanswered questions I have about my life. I would imagine I am not alone here. But, I did wonder how many had some of the questions I had, especially in mid-life? Will I have a home again—and when and where? Will I have friends? Will my children recover from our accident? Will I find work? Will I finally be able to sit down and write my books? This barely begins the list.

As I finished, many pages later, questions and unknowns still loomed upon the rolling hills in my mind. But now, there was space between all of it and me. In this space, a glimpse of compassion for myself arose. I could see why my brain feels fried and fuzzy. Why I am carrying myself a bit too tightly. Why I just might not be fully myself. Why my creative life suffers.

I posted my experience, briefly, online. Why not try it for yourself, I said, and write down the unknowns, which are probably, continuously, swimming around in your mind. Someone commented: “How about putting the energy instead into all the things that are good in your life?”

I was offended….Continue reading here.