Highs and Lows, Light and Dark

Whether you subscribe to the belief or not, can any of us really deny that duality exists? Vedanta, a fundamental part of my yoga training, asserts that non-duality is the nature of our existence, that Self, Brahma, the Whole are really one in the same with our little individual selves. The rest is just an illusion, or Maya. Yet there are so many pairs of seeming opposites that occur in nature, within our very beings and within our human experience. We speak of our higher self, which is to say the more enlightened, wise, soul-driven aspect of our being, as opposed to our lower self, the less learned, less mature, ego-driven facet. There is light and dark, both in the literal sense thanks to the earth's orbit, and in the figurative sense referring to the happy times in life as opposed to the sad ones. There are highs and lows, moments or perhaps days, weeks, years where things are really just going smoothly, blessings seem abundant and nothing can bring you down, until of course something does and suddenly your bogged down in the low, struggling to even remember the high times.

Like anyone who happened to stumble across this page, I've lived through highs and lows, light and dark and times of operating from both my higher self as well as my lower self. It's called life. We're all doing it. And sometimes what the higher self feels or knows comes into direct conflict with what the lower self wants. Sometimes the gifts bestowed in times of light overshadow the gifts that come in times of dark, simply because they are wrapped in prettier paper. What I believe it all boils down to is embracing both sides equally, facing them honestly and using the sum of the sometimes disparate parts to enjoy and experience life fully.

Ok, so this started off on a highly esoteric, slightly abstract note. Bringing it back to the "real world" lately I've found myself battling against my own duality, specifically how it plays into my love life. My soul loved C's soul from the moment we met. As we are both believers in such things, we readily embraced the notion that this is because our souls have journeyed together across many lifetimes. We are familiar to each other at that level. I've had more than one intuitive practitioner who I trust support this belief, each adding a new insight into our past life history and how that might contribute to this present incarnation. But beyond what anyone says, it's just something I feel at my core level, and I trust my instinct, so I've gone with it. The thing is what our souls know to be true does not necessarily correlate directly to what our lower, more earthly selves know. The latter is steeped in the experiences, beliefs, dramas, standards, expectations, etc. of this particular lifetime. Whatever baggage we've amassed along the way, we're bringing it with us into every connection we make. So you can end up loving someone so deeply, feeling drawn to them in a way that is beyond your control, and yet you find yourself wanting to ring their neck at times out of sheer frustration because they just don't get it! Or maybe you just don't get it! Or maybe one or both just can't express it! We could go on and on.

In love, if you cannot deem the sum of the parts totally lovable, and reach a state of peaceful agreement with your beloved that there are ways in which you differ and disagree, you're doomed. It is that simple. We all come with self and Self, light and dark, high and low. We all come with baggage. We are multi-dimensional and when we partner up, we usually do it with someone who has many dimensions that fit with our own, but it is impossible to find someone who fits them all. Why? Because the only way to do that is to be a complete narcissist and be in love with yourself!! Even if you have tons in common with your lover, same upbringing, same world views, same interests, you are not the same person and so you will always have something that is uniquely, differently and solely you to contribute to every equation. Grasping this in theory is one thing. Making it work in practice is another. So often we find ourselves in power struggles, pushing and pulling to bring lover and beloved into total alignment rather than being okay with some asymmetry in our relationship. It's called life. We're all doing it. But there can come a point where we stop, not living, but struggling. There can come a point where we accept what is, embrace the sum of the parts and find balance even in occasional imbalance. This is what I am striving for, and I hope that by sharing what I'm experiencing you will reflect on ways to do the same.

Wishing you peace, love and fulfillment, friends.

A lesson in being present

How foolish we are, as a species, generally speaking? We go about our lives believing we have unlimited time on this earth, believing we're somehow entitled to the privilege of simply breathing and existing, believing our pain, joy, circumstances, you name it, to be greater than that of others. How is this so, when in truth, all we really have is the present moment and the very breath we are drawing in it? Moreover, that breath is the same as the one everyone else is drawing too. Fools we are!

I do not set myself apart. I am among the billions who feel a sense of entitlement to this life, with all its luxuries and abundance. I find myself all too often caught in the trap of believing things will last, indefinitely if not forever, even though I completely subscribe to the fact that this is a falsehood. Though objectively speaking I know myself to be inherently no better nor worse than any other of my fellow humans, in moments my own experience is the biggest, most all-encompassing, all-pervading matter in existence. And then something happens. . . a turn of events, a passage in a book, a word from a friend, and my perspective shifts back into focus. I am reminded that it has been my ego clouding my judgment, obscuring my focus, temporarily blinding me from what is real.

What's real is yesterday I served as foreperson on a jury that found a young man guilty of obtaining his citizenship in the United States through fraud. The fraud was checking "no" to a box that he should have checked "yes" to. Had he completed the form a week earlier in his life, "no" would have been the correct answer, and he would have retained the right to remain in the country where he has been since six years of age, the country where is life and family reside. Later I learned that someone I love dearly lost someone that they love dearly, a woman who has known me since birth and who passed suddenly, without specific illness, without any drama. Yes, she was elderly and had lived a full life, but the point is simply how from one moment to the next everything changed without warning. Then I went on to find out this morning that my treasured friend, a role model, a fairy grandmother of sorts, is facing down a battle with cancer for the second time in a year.

None of these three people was likely going about their days, breathing each breath, with the thought in the front of their minds that it could be their last or that their life could dramatically change in the blink of an eye. I am not suggesting this foreboding mentality as a means of living a happy and a healthy life. What I am suggesting is that we, and that includes me, would all be best served to incorporate more presence of mind and gratitude into our everyday. As the saying goes, "be here now". (Thank you Ram Dass!) While I sat with C. today and told him about the events that had transpired, our conversation meandered to a point where he shared that he is bound and determined to give his full attention to whoever or whatever he was focused on in any moment. At that particular moment it was me, so when I inquired after his plans for the day and another friend, he responded by saying he wasn't thinking of any of that. He was thinking of me. He was there with me in that moment and nothing else mattered.

That's music to any lover's ears, of course, to know that your beloved is giving you their full and undivided attention. Yet, today, for me there was more to his words than that. It was the recognition that while there are moments for multi-tasking and there are certain roles and responsibilities we have that never fall away, that doesn't preclude us from making the conscious choice to say I am going to focus on the present 100%. The present really is everything. It is all that we have. At some point we will all see our last sunrise, dance our last dance, swim in the ocean for the last time, gaze into our lover's eyes and kiss their lips for a final time, give our children one last embrace. It is not for us to know when the last of anything will be. It is for us to make each and every one of them count for precisely that reason. Many of us believe this in theory. We've read it in some new age/spiritual/self help book or heard it spoken in some similar seminar. But theory and practice are so often different. In this case, I don't believe they should be. So in my life I vow to bridge that divide, to eliminate the difference, and to be as present to every precious, blessed moment as possible. If that is my life's work then it will be a worthwhile one in my esteem.

My humble appreciation and abiding gratitude for all the ways in which the Universe and the messengers it has sent have shared this lesson with me.

Memories of my father

It's been more than two years since my father died, at age 59. I was the one holding his hand as he took his final breath. I didn't cry instantaneously. I stood there, very still, with one hand on his chest, now still as still could be, the other hand on my own. I remember feeling a sensation of peace, then it was just a bit eerie, then I turned around and marched out of the room to find a hospice nurse. My concern shifted toward my mother, asleep on a nearby sofa. I woke her and broke the news and then the tears came. We held each other, we stood with him, we prayed. I cried a lot over the loss of my father that morning, but not very often since.

I began to believe I wasn't sentimental. I began to believe not shedding tears for the man who helped bring me into this life meant I didn't have overt tenderness in my heart for him. We'd had a pretty tumultuous relationship for many of our years together, and though we really came a long way in the end, and he passed with our bond as solid as ever, I came to believe that my father's absence from my adult life was something that I could deal with just fine, thank you. I may have forgiven but I hadn't truly forgotten the rifts and the pain that had existed between us for so long. So imagine my surprise when I recently began to see that what I had forgotten was just how much I really, really loved this imperfectly perfect man, and just how sentimental I can be when it comes to him.

My father showed up in a dream. It wasn't my dream, rather, the dream belonged to C., my relatively new love and someone who only knows my father through my words and the odd photo. I didn't ask what the dream was about. It didn't seem necessary. As a firm believer in most things spiritual and intuitive, I just took this information in and trusted that the deeper meaning or purpose would reveal itself in due time. Shortly thereafter I sat down to channel with a dear friend of mine who has a gift for being a conduit for soul messages. My focus was all about C. We've been together for several months now, but I hadn't channeled him and I was chomping at the bit to hear from his soul, and to ask about our soul connection. (If this seems really far out there and hard to grasp for some of you, I can understand. I invite you to channel for yourselves and see if that doesn't change your perspective.) As I sat there alternately nodding in agreement and beaming from sheer delight to receive messages about the incredible power and depth of the bond I share with the man now occupying center stage in my life, it occurred to me to inquire just what the man who had been center stage for a large portion of my life was doing showing up in C's dream.

In came my father's soul, elated to speak to me this way. I hadn't channeled him in many, many months. And spiritual though I may be in my own ways, I scarcely recall my dreams and have no identifiable ability for channeling soul messages myself. Combine that with the fact that, as I mentioned, I'd declared myself largely without sentiment on the subject of my deceased father, and one could understand, if you believe in such things, that he'd be extremely happy to have this chance to connect with me. He came to C. both as a means of reaching me, but also to check C. out for himself and to have the experience of "visiting" someone who would be consciously receptive. Crazy stuff, huh?!?! But it didn't phase me. It made sense. And it warmed my heart to hear my father's soul's obvious enthusiasm over the experience. It was a transformational one for him, and he could readily understand why I am so drawn to C. He was happy for me, happy for us.

In the weeks since then memories of my father have begun to surface at the most unexpected moments in the most unexpected ways. On a leisurely drive with C. I recalled motorcycle rides by the beach, scuba diving outings and other adventures my father and I shared back in the day. Some silent tears fell as I felt my heart soften toward my dad. While clearing out my closet and drawers for a clothing swap with friends today, I accidently sent crashing to the ground one of the oldest possessions I have, a gift from my father. It was a hand painted eggshell, insides removed as if by magic, fragile and beautiful, sitting in its glass enclosure. I must have been five or six-years old when he gave it to me, and somehow, and for reasons I never fully understood, I kept it for all these years. When it shattered, I felt shattered. I froze as if suspended in air for a moment, then fell to my knees as hysterical sobs gripped me. What was this sentiment? Where was this emotion coming from? I missed my dad. For all that he wasn't, for all that I didn't like or understand about him, he was mine, he always tried to be there for me and he loved me with everything he had.

I could say that he is gone now, but that is only a partial truth. Physically, yes. On a soul level and in my heart, no. He is with me. And as C. reminded me when we spoke, post-egg shattering, smack in the middle of my flood of tears, I haven't lost anything. The egg is just a thing. The egg is not my father. The egg is not my memories. So while it is understandably sad that this beautiful object my father gave me now sits in pieces, my feelings toward him and my ability to sense him seem to have been strengthened as a result. He just gave me a wonderful lesson in detachment, a wonderful lesson in love.

Wherever you are, dad, I know you are with me. Thank you. All my love for all eternity.