SEEDS

Nothing exists that did not begin as a concept. Thoughts are things and words have power. As most of you know, I am in the midst of deconstructing and redesigning my life, of consciously and deliberately reinventing my Self. So I now plant a seed for the next phase of my journey.

I respect and thank the world and my Self for all the ways I have chosen to support and express my Self during the first half of my life. For most of that time, I observed and contributed to the mentality that created and sustained an artificial and arbitrary separation between work and play, subscribing to the very common - but completely erroneous - presumption that work must be grueling, unpleasant, and miserable.

For the last half of my life, I intend:

• to obliterate the line between work and play
• to generate an unprecedented high-level income doing things I deliriously love and which feed and nourish my spirit and the spirits of all around me
• to inspire others to understand that living their dreams is not only a possibility, but an imperative in order to be a cognizant co-creator of a better world

What are the things I deliriously love?

• putting thoughts, ideas, and emotions into written form in ways that illuminate and provoke contemplation
• speaking before groups, large or small, about ideas, philosophies, everyday miracles
• sharing insights and wisdom - often gained through challenging personal experiences - with people one-on-one
• advocating for the rights of helpless critters, both four-legged and two-legged
• being a walking demo of the theory that beauty originates and emanates from the interior of a person, not the other way around
• defying preconceived labels and inspiring others to do the same
• thinking outside the box, then stepping outside the box, then setting fire to the box!

What "real-world" skills, qualifications, and abilities do I possess that enable me to do any of the above?

• B.A. in English
• B.A. in Sociology
• B.Msc. in Metaphysical Science
• ordination as a metaphysical minister
• experience as a classroom instructor in adult education
• experience as a social worker
• experience as a public speaker

The world is changing, of that there can be no doubt. We are in a time of flux and transition. I like to think of it as a major worldwide upgrade. One of the principals that is quickly gaining widespread understanding and acceptance is that the most effective and efficient way of helping yourself to a better life is to assist another to higher ground. So plant a few karmic flowers for yourself by being a way-shower for me as I traverse my path. I know that somewhere out there is the person who knows of precisely the professional position I'm meant to have or create, so if that's you, contact me forthwith and let's both help our Selves!

UNCONDITIONAL LOVE

Unconditional love. That’s a phrase we hear a lot, but have you ever thought about what it really means?

I heard it in a song on the radio the other day. “My love is unconditional.” Unless that song was specifically speaking from the point of view of a parent talking to a child, that’s a lie. It may warm the heart of the person hearing it, and the person saying it is probably sincere, but it’s just not true.

Yes, there it is … I’m coming right out and saying it … the ONLY truly unconditional love that exists on this planet is the love of a parent for a child.

And it’s not a two-way street, either. We love our parents, but it’s not an unconditional love. Although we don’t like to think about – much less talk about – these kinds of feelings, there are things a parent can do that will destroy the love of a child.

And if you think you love your mate or spouse unconditionally, I suggest that you are deluding yourself. Unconditionally means no matter what this person says or does. So let’s rethink this one for a minute … there is absolutely nothing your mate or spouse could say or do that would cause you to stop loving him or her? Really? Thought so!

Yep, I’ll say it again … the only truly unconditional love that exists is that of a parent for a child. After my son became a parent himself, he told me one day he finally “got” it, that he now understood what I meant when I told him all his life that I would love him no matter what. He said, “You really meant that, every time, didn’t you?!” I told him I absolutely did.

A few years earlier, when he was going through the rough teenage years during which time he seemed determined to test the theory that stress can actually kill, he had asked me, after one particularly grueling period in our relationship, if I still loved him. I told him I loved him before he was conceived and I would go on loving him well beyond the transitioning of my corporeal self, and on throughout eternity, and that there was nothing he could ever do that would change that. As an illustration, I told him that if I were sitting on the couch one day and he walked through the front door with a gun in his hand and walked up to me and screamed, “I hate you and you’re going to die,” and shot me, that with my dying breath I would say to him, “I love you, son. I forgive you. Forgive yourself.”

I meant that then. I mean it now. I will mean it throughout the aforementioned eternity.

I have, however, had trouble grasping the fine distinction between loving someone and rushing in to attempt to save him from himself. I have always wanted, as I think most parents do, to make my son’s life as easy and rich and wondrous as possible. I have flinched each time something grazed his spirit, I have cried many bitter tears over the wounding of his heart, and I have tried to be there for him in meaningful and effective ways. I have never been a perfect mother, because I have never been a perfect person, but my love for him has always been pure and strong and perfect. There is no fault to be found in this mother’s heart.

Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of this mother’s actions. In my desire to shield my beloved son from unnecessary pain, I have too often shielded him from NECESSARY pain; the kind of pain we must each go through in order to learn something about ourselves and life and thereby become self-reliant adults. With nary but the highest intentions, I have stepped in and blocked some of the blows that were headed his way, even the ones he brought on himself, the ones he deserved, the ones that might have made him stronger.

For this, I deeply and heartily apologize. It breaks my heart to think that my desire to KEEP him from being hurt has caused him to BE hurt, but that is what happens when we do too much for those we love and they never learn to do for themselves.

You see, the message I hoped to send to my son was “I LOVE YOU AND I’M IN YOUR CORNER, ON YOUR SIDE, NO MATTER WHAT.” However, the message that was received by him was probably more like, “THE ONE PERSON ON EARTH WHO KNOWS YOU BETTER THAN ANYONE ELSE THINKS YOU CAN’T HANDLE YOUR OWN LIFE AND PROBLEMS, SO SHE HAS TO STEP IN AND DO IT FOR YOU.”

In an effort to help him fly, I essentially crippled him. Just like when a baby is learning to walk, if you rush in and save him every time he’s about to fall, he will never learn to stand up on his own two feet.

I started learning that lesson when my son was 17. Now, some 9 years later, it is a lesson I understand and fully grasp, but am still struggling to implement. Old habits die very hard. I suppose as a mom, it will always be my knee-jerk reaction to rush to pick him up when he falls. But these days I have learned to stand still and breathe until the knee stops jerking and the brain kicks in. No matter how big a pickle he gets himself into, if having his mom bail him out of it will ultimately weaken him as a man, then Mom has to take a step back and let her son take a spill or two. Sometimes falling is the only way to find out you’re strong enough to get back up on your own.

So while my LOVE for my son will always be unconditional, my intervention in his life will not. Of course, I will come through in a crisis … for example, if his home were swept away in a flood, he and his family could bunk with me. But barring an act of God, he’s just gonna have to muddle through on his own. I love him enough to let him try and fail and learn and grow stronger. I love him enough to let him be angry with me for not helping if that’s what it takes. I love him enough to endure my own pain as I watch him hurting. I love him and believe in him enough to let him go.

PERSPECTIVE

It’s all a matter of perspective. Life, I mean. Or more specifically, everything IN life. Let me illustrate.

Right now, I am living without central heat or hot running water in my house. Four weeks ago today I discovered I had a leak in one of my gas lines. The gas company turned off the gas to my house, and I called a local handyman, who came over, promptly located a broken gas line running to an outdoor gaslight in my front yard that I have never used in the 9+ years I’ve lived here, and capped it for me.

I was so excited! I called the gas company, and they came very quickly to reconnect my gas. However, after two tests, the gas man told me NO CAN DO, YOU STILL HAVE A LEAK.

Of course, he had no way of knowing WHERE the leak is, but he couldn’t turn my gas back on. He told me I will have to find and fix the leak, then have the city do an inspection for safety purposes. Once I pass their safety inspection, they give me something called a “green ticket,” and once I am in possession of that prize, then and only then will the gas company come out and turn me back on!

My handy dandy handyman told me my gas lines are ancient and it would be a good idea to just replace them all. He said that would run somewhere between $2,000 and $3,000. Scenes from “The Money Pit” with Tom Hanks and Shelley Long suddenly began running through my head.

So I am discovering that three tiny well-placed space heaters can keep me from freezing, and that heating water on my [thankfully electric] stove and putting it in a 5-gallon bucket, which I then set inside the bathtub, can keep me clean. Of course, it is kind of poignantly ironic to sit in that nice, deep Jacuzzi tub with the jets all the way around and bathe out of a bucket; but at least I’m staying clean.

Now lest you start feeling TOO sorry for me, let me assure you that this is a temporary situation. I think the first handyman is actually a bit lazy and wasn’t very interested in doing too many more relatively small jobs around my house. I’ve already located another one who is more of a go-getter, and had I not come down with a horrible head cold, I would have spent this past weekend digging and poking around in my yard to locate the other gas leak so handyman number 2 could come fix it for me. I suspect it’s emanating from the other non-functional gaslight located in my BACK yard. At any rate, before much longer, all will be restored to normalcy around my place, and life will go on pretty much as it always has.

With one difference. I will be ever more cognizant of, and grateful for, the modern conveniences with which my life is rife! At various points, I’ve lived for short periods of time without electricity, without running water, without heat, and without air conditioning. I’ve experienced lots of time in the past without a washer and dryer, and I’ve never had an automatic dishwasher. For most of my life, there were no such things as cell phones or computers, and my son and I even managed to survive for a couple of months one time without a car.

I try to make it a point to be grateful every day. I look around at the relative luxury in which I reside, and I thank the powers that be. I don’t enjoy heating water on the stove to wash dishes or take a bath, but I’m dreadfully grateful that I have the stove and the electricity and the water. And the dishes. And the food to eat that got the dishes dirty.

What must it be like to have no heat at all, or no running water, or no house for shelter, or no food to eat, let alone dishes to put it on? What must it be like to huddle against a dumpster trying to get out of the cold wind so you can hopefully make it through one more night? What must it be like to burn with hunger and have no idea when or if that will ever end? What must it be like to hear your baby cry and be powerless to give him what he needs?

Oh, yeah … I’m pretty damn lucky. See? All a matter of perspective.

FALLING IN LOVE AGAIN

“Falling in love.” What does that mean? What does it mean when you do it? What does it mean when someone else does it with you? And if you can fall in love, can you fall out of it, too?

It seems like “love” is the only area in which falling is seen as a good thing! Otherwise, falling is something we spend a considerable amount of time and energy endeavoring to avoid! But when it’s L-O-V-E , we just can’t wait to take the tumble!

I remember my first time to “fall in love.” His name was Charles Brock, and we were both in the seventh grade. He was skinny with huge brown eyes, a sweet and crooked smile, and this shock of blond hair that would tumble over onto his forehead no matter how hard he tried not to let it. Charles wasn’t a great conversationalist, and didn’t care much for music (which has always been a big part of my life), and I honestly can’t remember whether he was very intellectual or not. No, the most attractive thing about Charles was that he was attracted to me! I didn’t understand it, but I was grateful! Finally, I was part of the grownup world of being “in love.”
I remember that a few years before that, I asked my mom how come all the songs were about being in love. As I said, music has always been a huge part of me, and at around 8 or 9 I noticed that just about every song I heard anywhere ever was about people who were “in love.” My mom told me all the songs were about that because it was just about the most important thing in life. That was a little confusing, because she had previously always said that my little brother and me were the most important things in life.

I asked her how you know when you’re “in love,” and her response was most unsatisfactory – “Oh, sweetie, when you’re in love, you just know!” Well, what kind of an answer was that? I was terribly disappointed in Mom for that one!

And yet here I was, a few years later, at the tender age of 13, having just been kissed for the very first time in my life by Charles Brock with his shock of blond hair and crooked smile, and suddenly it all made perfect sense. Yep, I was in love. And I knew it. Mom had been right … when you are, you just know!

Of course, Charles was the first, but he certainly wasn’t the last. I’ve been “in love” a few more times since then. I was “in love” with Billy in high school, and he was in love with me too, for awhile. Until he was in love with someone else. I wasn’t in love with Bobby, the man to whom I surrendered my virginity. He was very nice, and I liked him a lot, but we weren’t in love. I was deeply in lust with the man who became my first husband. Although I grew to love him during our short three years as man and wife, when we first got together, it was absolutely about the fabulous sexual connection, which was really all we ever had in common anyway. And my second and final husband – the father of my child – is someone with whom I never even shared so much as the illusion of love. We each had our own reasons for marrying one another, and none of them had to do with romance or even lust.

There was a boy in there that I dearly and deeply loved, from the time we first connected in high school until this very day. I loved Terry with my whole heart and soul, and I love him still. I expect to love him throughout the remainder of this lifetime, and on into the next. It was a love that was borne of a genuine soul connection, and it took up residence inside my heart permanently. The follies of youth invaded our lives and caused us to part and go our separate ways. He is now happily married to a wonderful woman, and I am genuinely happy for him. But I will go on loving him forever, of that there is no doubt.

Notice I didn’t say I “fell in love” with him? I remember some very tender and sweet feelings as I was getting to know Terry better and better; the kind of affection that grows daily as someone opens to you like a flower; the kind of warmth that spreads through your being when you innately know your heart is completely safe with this person. But there was no “falling.” It never felt like a shock. In my experience, falling in love always feels like a shock.

You see, I have analyzed this phenomenon in the last few years, concomitant with my personal and spiritual growth, and I have come to realize that “falling in love” is far from the wonderful, be-all, end-all pinnacle of life it’s touted to be. In fact, it’s actually quite an unhealthy reaction, in my opinion. It’s more like succumbing to an addictive substance than growing larger and stronger as a human.

You see, “falling in love” feels kind of like a drug-induced high. You’re riding a wave of euphoria you hope will never end. At first, everything about the person who is the object of your affection – or object of your addiction? – seems to be perfect and shiny and miraculous. This person appears to have no flaws, like an angel descended from heaven to finally make your life complete!

In fact, it is an addiction of sorts, this type of relationship. What you’re addicted to, though, isn’t a substance, and it isn’t really even another person; what you’re addicted to is the feeling of being adored. You’re addicted to how the reflection of your wonderful Self in another’s eyes makes you feel about YOU! It’s rather like a surfer riding the biggest, most perfect wave in the world. The only problem is that wave must eventually, inevitably come crashing against the shore, and when that happens in our romantic relationships, we’re never prepared for it, it always comes as a hideous surprise, and we allow ourselves to be devastated.

Now you’re going cold turkey, against your will, “jonesing” for what’s been yanked away from you. You think you’re in love and you’re missing that person; in reality, what you’re missing, what you’re craving, is the way the other person made you feel about yourself. You very quickly became accustomed to the high of feeling adored, and now that it’s been torn away from you, it hurts down to the quick.

The bad news is, that was never real love.

The good news is, that was never real love!

What? You’re not convinced? Let me illuminate this for you.

Do you have kids? Know how you feel about your kids? You know, that unconditional adoration that lives in your heart and that is independent of their feelings, moods, or behavior? THAT, my friend, is real love!

Know that friend who you felt connected to from the first moment you met? The one that you can always turn to no matter what? The one who’ll tell you the truth, whether you want to hear it or not? The one you will be there for through thick and thin, even the consequences of doing exactly what you warned against? THAT is real love!

You know that four-legged critter that can’t wait for you to get home at the end of the day? The one you yelled at this morning for getting in your way because you overslept and were running late? The one you forgot to feed the other day? The one you sometimes ignore for days on end, but who is always just as happy to see you as ever? THAT is real love!

The “falling in love” phenomenon is real, too, but it’s different. It’s your first taste of what it feels like to be unconditionally adored. But that’s all any other person can ever give you – a taste.

But … and here comes the REAL good news … you CAN have that feeling all the time, on a daily basis, every minute of every day, and under nobody’s control but your own! YOU can give that to YOU!!!! That’s the value of the “in love” experience. You’ve now had a taste of total acceptance and you don’t ever want it to end; but as long as the locus of control is external to yourself, it WILL end.

So take this as a sign, a signal that you have work to do. You need to work on loving your glorious and magnificent Self. You need to “fall in love” with YOU! Take the time to cultivate your own unconditional adoration! Start noticing every little wonderful thing about you, and compliment yourself for those things. Spend time basking in your own company, and admiring your amazing qualities. Dress up in your very finest and take yourself out on a date, making sure to comment on how fabulous and sexy and delicious you look!

You see, the concept is very simple, even if it’s not easy to implement: you can never give away that which you do not possess. If I asked you to give me 100 gold coins, you would have to say no. Whether or not you like me, or would be willing to part with some gold, or think my reasons are worthy … none of that is relevant. You would have to say no because you don’t HAVE 100 gold coins. Now, if you DID have 100 gold coins, then it would get down to those other issues, and you would need to duly and reasonably consider them and weigh the value of each, and make a logical decision.

It’s the same with love. You cannot give away that which you do not possess. We all need love, and hanker for it in our deepest inner being. But the foundation of fulfillment of this desire must come from within. Until you have love, you cannot give away love. And the same is true of all humans. So as long as you go around trying to gobble up the love of another person in a well-intentioned, albeit horribly misguided, attempt to fill that void within your soul, you are bound for disappointment. You will find yourself crashing against those rocks on the shore, wondering why this happened again and what you’re doing wrong and why nobody can love you for long.

The answer is inside you. The solution is already in your soul. YOU have to love you, unconditionally, with premeditated reckless abandon, unreservedly and unabashedly! Then and only then will you find yourself able to connect with another person in a healthy, loving relationship that actually might stand a chance of lasting the rest of this lifetime!

PINPOINTS

I just realized something this morning. Something that made me smile. I’ve made quite a bit of genuine progress! I saw a post from a friend on Facebook about going through the roughest time of her life. This particular person is really more of an acquaintance than a friend (although I would like that to change and am hoping it will), so I don’t know the specifics of whatever it is she’s going through; but my empathic self has picked up one thing for certain … she significantly underestimates her Self and has no idea how strong nor how valuable she really is.

That’s when it hit me … I don’t do that to me any more! Not every day of my life is stellar and sterling, and not every moment of my existence am I whistling a happy tune with bluebirds fluttering around my head. But even on my darkest days, even on days when I feel sad or discouraged or downhearted or frustrated or just plain overwhelmed, I don’t ever, ever feel completely lost or lonely or adrift any more. THAT IS HUGE, PEOPLE! There was a time in my life when lost, lonely, and adrift were pretty much my regular state of being, with little isolated incidences of brighter moods here and there, like tiny pinpoints of light in a vast sea of darkness … never predictable or dependable or within my control (that I knew of), but just enough to keep me from going COMPLETELY off the deep end.

Then as I began my Self-work lo these twenty-plus years ago, those pinpoints of light began to show up a bit more often. After awhile, they were more than just tiny pinpoints … they came more frequently and lasted longer each time. I was beginning to garner a sense that there was a connection between the work I was consciously doing on me and the increase of the light, and though I still didn’t have a firm grasp on causing or controlling them, I knew I was heading in the right general direction.

Over the years, with a shift so gradual as to be almost imperceptible to anyone, perhaps, except my Self, the light became the norm and the occurrences of darkness the anomalies … pretty much down to “pinpoint” status, and with lessening frequency and impact.

I noticed another thing not too long ago … when the darkness does appear, it takes MUCH less time to dissipate now than it used to! What would once have been a funk that might last several weeks now washes over me and recedes in a matter of days or even hours!

But it wasn’t until I saw my friend’s post this morning on Facebook that I realized how far I really have come! My lowest low nowadays is little more than a momentary glitch on the radar that disappears almost as soon as it presents itself! And now that I DO know that I’m in control of my emotions, if I’m tired or distracted enough to let a pinpoint of darkness pop up, it’s not shattering or devastating any more, because I simply order it away as soon as I notice it! And even in my worst moments, I no longer feel utterly lost and adrift, because I have my anchor, and my anchor is my glorious, fabulous, wondrous, beautiful, amazing, awesome Self! I have ME! I am my center, and no storm that shows up can sever that certainty! There is an indwelling of peace that permeates my soul and which cannot be rocked by any exterior circumstance, event, or occurrence.

That is a miracle to me, and I sit here beaming with joy at having realized that I’ve attained that for my Self! But there’s an even greater miracle that I’m now moving toward … establishing within my Self this unshakeable, immovable base of peace was only the first part of my dharma; the next part, I am just now seeing, is to share it with the world!

So I now consciously and intentionally embark upon the shift into the next phase of my life, evolving to ever-expanding fulfillment of my purpose, my reason for coming here this time … to take what I have learned in this great lab experiment known as my life and interpret the results and share them with those in this world who are thirsting and ready to receive!

And so it begins. And so it is!

DEFYING YOUR AGE

Our culture is obsessed with youth. This is not news. I believe that any thinking person over the age of 30 would agree that this is something we need to change. However, I would propose that even those who recognize this imbalance could perhaps use a focus adjustment as well.

I have a friend who recently posted on Facebook that she had been accused of trying to “hide” her true age by how she dresses and acts. Her response to this was quite understandable … she first “outed” herself by declaring her correct chronological age, and then defended herself by saying she’s never tried to mislead anyone about how old she is. The responses of her friends and supporters shared a basic theme – that she is beautiful and doesn’t look her age and shouldn’t worry about it.

That’s very nice, but it still places the emphasis on the wrong part of the problem, in this writer’s opinion. To try to comfort someone by telling her she “doesn’t look her age” is to play into the myth that younger is better. We tell a 40-year-old she doesn’t look a day over 30, or we assure a 55-year-old grandmother that she sure doesn’t look like a grandmother. While these are apparently positive and supportive statements at first blush, the reality is that they imply there’s something wrong with “looking like” a 40-year-old or a grandmother; and further, that there even IS such a thing. What does a 40-year-old look like? What does a grandmother look like?

And WHY do we blindly accept the presumption that it’s better to be young? Why do we deify youth in this culture? I purport that this has come about largely as a result of some very successful marketing strategies used by just about every advertiser in the world. After all, marketing is based on the premise of supply and demand. You can either perceive a demand and supply what’s needed to fulfill it, or you can CREATE a demand, supply the promised fulfillment, and get rich, rich, RICH!

If I can convince you that who you are, how you are, is unacceptable, then the sky’s the limit as to the products I can sell you to make yourself once more acceptable. And since every human is growing older every day of life from birth to death, what better lie to sell than that younger is better? We’re told we should strive for skin that’s as soft as a baby’s bottom; a face with no lines or wrinkles; eyelashes that are long, dark, and thick; a figure resembling that of a pre-pubescent boy; and for God’s sake we must NEVER let our natural hair color show!

Why? Why is baby-butt skin better? How can eyelashes make you more desirable? And who said being pencil-thin is the way women should look, even if that were possible to achieve? THE ADVERTISERS WHO WANT YOU TO BUY INTO THE MYTH SO YOU’LL BUY THEIR PRODUCTS, THAT’S WHO!

My real-world, reality-on-the-ground, not-made-for-television life experience has shown me things that are quite contrary to what the advertisers want you to believe.

One of my best friends met her husband when they were both in their late teens. They’ve been married for 40+ years now, and a few years ago he told me of the night they met. He saw a beautiful 17-year-old across a crowded room (literally!) and fell madly in love at first sight. He told his buddy standing next to him, “That’s the girl I’m gonna marry.” He described to me in painstaking detail – lo, these almost 40 years later – what she was wearing, how her hair was fixed, and who she was talking to. That in itself was heartwarming and incredible, especially coming from this outwardly gruff, car-racing redneck of a man; but what followed brought tears to my eyes. He looked into the kitchen at his now-50-something-year-old 20-pounds heavier wife in jeans and a stained sweatshirt, no make-up, unkempt hair, her hands in dishwater, and his eyes grew misty as he said, “Every time I look at her, that’s how I still see her, and I fall in love all over again.”

My own grandfather, twice-widowed, fell madly, passionately, head-over-heels, giddy-as-a-teenager in love when he was 80 years old. Always the strong, silent type, characteristically a man of very few words, he gushed effusively about his beautiful lady love, who he married and remained mad for until the day he passed from this earth ten years later. He thought she was gorgeous and sexy and amazing. She was also 80.

You see, the heart’s vision gets there a split second before the eyes’ view registers, and THIS is what we are actually responding to, albeit usually unbeknownst to us. But alas, we are spirits travelling through this plane of existence trapped inside these temporal bodies, and as such we tend to interpret our experiences and perception through the lens of form. We are attracted to, or repelled by, someone we just met and we attribute those feelings to something physical about that person, when in reality we are feeling the energy that person is emitting and THAT is what we’re reacting to.

Case in point? We can all think of someone – a celebrity or someone we know personally – who at first glance impressed us as not very attractive, but who, once we started to know them, became beautiful. And conversely, everyone knows someone who is aesthetically pleasing, but whose insides reveal an ugly person.

I am here and now calling for you, the people, to stand with me as we rise up and start a revolution! Let us no longer swallow the flavorless, unfulfilling pap being shoved down our throats by marketers. Let’s rip the scales from our eyes and start to “see” with our hearts. Let’s recognize that there is beauty in every person, and that it’s not connected to complexion or eyelash length or hair color or even – and perhaps most importantly – a person’s age. Let’s broaden our definition of beauty to include the place where beauty originates – in the heart and soul of a person. And most of all, let’s start to see, acknowledge, and proudly claim our OWN beauty. Let’s be the ones who teach the rest of the world that form is temporal, but spirit is ageless. And beautiful. ALWAYS!

FLESH

Do you ever have to re-learn the same life lessons more than once, or is it just me? I hope I’m not alone in this, because I already feel foolish enough.

I recently made yet another sojourn back to – and subsequently back from – veganism. I was born with a deep love and compassion for animals, and since the age of about five or six, when I discovered where meat came from, it has always bothered me to think of an animal dying so that I could eat its flesh. Although I was a healthy child, I was tiny and frail-looking, so my parents were constantly concerned with my food intake, and on most nights, my required number of bites of meat was apportioned to me and I was not allowed to leave the dinner table until I had consumed every one of those bites. Vegetarianism was not an option.

In what I now think of as the “middle years,” I was far too consumed by the romantic and social aspects of my life to give much thought to what I put in my mouth. But a few years ago, I decided to try becoming a vegetarian. At that point, I had vaguely heard of “vegans” (although I had no idea how to correctly pronounce it), but never seriously considered taking that route. It seemed like something quite extreme to me.

That first trip to veggie-land lasted about 2 months. I had done absolutely no research and was totally unprepared … I thought all I needed to do was not eat meat. So I ate a lot of eggs and cheese and peanut butter, and at the end of 7 weeks, I was feeling weak, cranky, and logy, and I was craving meat so badly that my poodle started looking like those cartoons where you see a big steaming plate of food walking around with four furry legs!

Since that first attempt, there have been several others, the most recent of which [before this one] was about 10 months ago, when I went vegan for the first time. That only lasted a couple of weeks, mostly because I was getting very weak and VERY hungry. I was far better prepared that time, having done extensive research, having calculated the protein requirements for my body, and scrupulously keeping a food journal wherein I tracked the grams of everything to ensure that I was getting all my daily requirements. But I was still hungry … no, I was ALWAYS hungry! It seemed that no matter how much wonderful, delicious vegan food I ate, I was never satisfied.

Now, let me share here that I am a survivor of an eating disorder, and that’s not something to play around with. I spent a full year conquering that problem many years ago, but it’s like a barely-visible wolf who is always looming just outside the perimeter of my life, watching and waiting for any opportunity to pounce and once more take control. Obsessive thinking is the culprit, and I know of no faster way to dive back into obsession than manipulation of my diet. Whether it’s giving up sugar to enhance my physical health, or giving up animal products to soothe my soul, the justification for the beginning of that journey becomes irrelevant as I realize the ultimate destination is the same – a quick fall into the quicksand of obsession.

And let me interject here that if you, the reader, are starting to look down on those of us who deal with this tendency, even ever so slightly, try this little thought experiment: Think of your favorite food in all the world. Imagine it, what it looks like, what it smells like, what it tastes like. Get such a vivid vision of it in your mind that your mouth starts to water just thinking about it. Now, imagine that someone tells you that you can NEVER have that particular treat again. Not that you can only have it occasionally, or that you must perform some feat or accomplish some task before you can have it – simply that you can NEVER EVER have it again. How does that make you feel? What if this omnipotent being told you that you can have anything else on earth you want, and as much of it as you like, but you can never have that again?

Chances are, just as the result of this little allegory, you are already craving whatever your favored treat is, and chances are even greater that you will be having some by the end of this day, or certainly by the end of this week. That is the power of obsession. You just dipped your toe into the edge of a sinkhole that almost sucked me under several years ago, and I will not go swimming in that particular pond any more if I can help it.

So last night, as I sat on the couch playing an online Scrabble-type game on my phone in an attempt to distract myself from the gnawing hunger in the pit of my stomach and the gnawing obsession in the depths of my brain, I began to realize that I was starting to move in a barely-perceptible but definitively circular motion … slowly and gradually at first, but in an ever-tightening pattern that would surely end with me getting drawn into the vortex and going down the drain.

That’s when I realized I had to end this journey, only days since its inception. I felt embarrassed and like a big failure. I have endeavored so many times and with such fervor to be my authentic self and live my beliefs, and I always seem to fall short. So I did what I have been known to do in moments of existential crisis – I called my friend Kathleen! Kathleen is filled with common sense and is one of the most pragmatic and logical people I’ve ever known. She is deep and spiritual and funny and beautiful and intelligent, and has this uncanny knack for kicking me in the ass and bringing me back down to earth when I need it.

I explained my dilemma to Kathleen – or at least this chapter of it – and she sat silent for a moment. When she spoke, her words found their mark in my soul in a very profound way. She said, “I think it’s great that you care about the animals so much; but you have to care about you, too.”

Wow! That was huge! I forgot one of the lessons I so consistently preach to others … you don’t always have to be at the very top of your own priority list, but you should always be ON that list. I was putting all God’s critters on my list, to the exclusion of yours truly! That can never be healthy.

So I decided that I must once more allow my errant inner pendulum to swing back toward center. Finding my balance is one of my major quests this time around, and I cannot abandon that pursuit. And so I will return to my habit of purchasing only organic meat and dairy, and of giving genuine thanks to the animals who gave their lives that I might eat, and mostly of making food a non-issue in my life.

Am I embarrassed to have played this episode out in such a public way? Yeah, a little. But deep down, I am proud … proud that I am brave enough to share my journey with the world even though I may take some ribbing; and proud that spiritual understanding, growth, and development that would once have taken me months or even years now happens in a matter of days or even hours!

Feeling exhausted, hungry, and a little defeated last night, just before I drifted off to sleep, I remembered one more thing I learned a long time ago but had since forgotten … although I am not a rabid, in-your-face Christian person, I do believe that Jesus was the most enlightened being who has ever traversed the surface of this planet, and he was definitely not a vegan! He went fishing and he fed fish to the multitudes following him. He also partook of the traditional Jewish Passover meal, with the main course being lamb.

So I start this new day feeling a bit battered, but delightfully incredulous at the wisdom and growth that keep crashing into my already-richly-blessed life. I am truly wealthy, and for this I am truly grateful!