Seeds of Change

You know how if you plant seeds,

it takes time for the fruits of the seeds

to push up through the ground’s surface?

Same goes for the changes you want to manifest.

They take time to see.

~Karen Salmansohn

The thing about seeds is that they don’t grow overnight. You can plant them, water them—even talk to them—and you get nothing, or at least that’s how it seems. But there’s business going on underground: roots are forming, intertwining with others for mutual support and growth, while decisions are being made about how many flowers, or apples, or tomatoes will grow from that seed. Then one day, just when you thought nothing was happening—BAM! Signs of life emerge from the ground, reaching for the sunlight. Suddenly, it all makes perfect sense.

So it is with you and me.  Dreams are our seeds of change.  Words are also seeds, and when dropped into the ether, whether spoken or held deeply in our spirit, they grow and bring forth their kind.  Nothing grows without a seed.  Nothing changes without a dream.  And as we move deeper into fall, I’m reminded how temporary it all is. Seasons change. People come and go. Time marches on, waiting for no one, yet moving us forward in rhythm with the silent longings of our hearts.

Just as the Aspen leaves turn green, then gold, falling to the ground with winter’s early warning, I’m reminded that we, too, must first die to one life before experiencing the new growth of spring.  We must clear space; shed a part of what we know and make room for what we want to create. We know it’s coming; we’ve longed for it.  Yet so often we fear the change we seek.

Consider the Aspen—do you think it spends the winter fearing that it will never again experience the joy of having beautiful leaves adorn its branches? Questioning the essence of its being? Wishing things were different? Regretting having done what is in its nature to do? I think not.  It’s rather like they are hibernating, conserving energy for the new cycle of life that will emerge come spring.

Why should it be any different with people? Consider what you do between cycles of change, waiting for your seeds to grow. How do you fill your time? What do you give your energy to?

When you’re moving through change, yet you can’t quite see the end result, do you live in fear that where you are is all your life will ever be? Or do you get busy doing what you can to organize yourself, energize your thoughts, and develop a good plan to support your change as you move forward?

All changes, even the most longed for, 
have their melancholy;

for what we leave behind is part of ourselves;

we must die to one life before we can enter into another.

~Anatole France

Even when change comes from a conscious choice to restructure some aspect of our life—to let go of a dead-end relationship, change careers, start a family, create a new business or embark on a great travel adventure—it is tempting to spend our time in an anxious state, questioning our decisions, worrying that it will all go horribly wrong; expecting signs of new life to emerge immediately on the heels of our decision to change, just after planting the seeds.

But if we could step back and observe ourselves from a distance, we would see that we aren’t done yet: We are still moving toward a destination that we can’t quite see because we’re consumed with the day-to-day experience of our change, slowed by the natural timing of things; like watching seeds grow underground.

Remember: To everything there is a reason, a season, a cycle and right timing. Work with the energy of change, not against it. Be patient and mindful of life’s rhythms.  Use down time to improve where you can, turning weaknesses into strengths.  And prepare yourself, for a bright new tomorrow will emerge just as surely as the snow falls on changing leaves.

Will you be ready?

In the Meantime

Here is a test

to find if your mission on Earth is finished:

if you’re alive, it isn’t.

~Richard Bach, Illusions

Statistics are out:  “10 out of 10 people will die!”  So said the random card I found on the ground by my gas pump.  Like a splash of cold water to the face, it lifted me right out of my head where I had been stuck worrying about something that I had little control over.  It’s easy to ignore the inevitable when we’re healthy and young and living our dreams, or just caught up in the mechanics of life. But we all have an appointment with death sooner or later, which begs the question:  What happens when we die?  

I am drawn to this issue—life after life—because I can’t wrap my head around the idea that when we die we are finished.  Sure, our bodies return to the earth, entombed or scattered as ashes as we’re reminded of the universal law that energy can neither be created nor destroyed, it simply changes form.  Our loved ones will gather around our caskets and mourn our passing, comforting each other with comments like, “She looks so peaceful,” or “They sure did a good job with him,” staring at the body as if we were in there somewhere.  Yet if ever there’s proof that we’re more than our bodies, it’s in these moments.

When my grandfather passed a few years ago, I had the honor of being with him in his final days.  He was concerned for my grandmother, and asked that we take good care of her, but otherwise, he was ready to go.  He wasn’t afraid.  And as he moved in and out of consciousness, through labored breath, he shared his final thoughts, “We are born with a framework for society . . . or so we think . . . but it’s an illusion . . . there’s the body and the soul . . . but only the soul lives forever.”  It was my greatest spiritual experience, witnessing the soul of a man leave his body in the wake of his words. 

For the better part of a year, I had intense dreams of my grandfather. Not the man who suffered congestive heart failure and passed in his hospice bed, but the vibrant young man he had been when I was a little girl.  At first I would wake up startled when he appeared, and I could never return to my dream.  But in time, I willed myself to talk to him and he revealed some fascinating truths about his life in spirit form.  I’ve often wondered what informed those dreams.

In his book Life After Death:  The Burden of Proof, Deepak Chopra points to talking to the dead and near death experiences (NDEs) as two of six lines of evidence that the soul is real and eternal.  He studied many cases of NDEs, where the person had been pronounced dead and was brought back to life, and he interviewed those patients about their experience.  Intriguing to me was the discovery that across the board, people experienced what they believed.  Christians reported seeing angels and white light and Jesus.  Muslims reported meeting Allah and scenes of Islam.  Those who believed that they had wronged others, or that they had been “bad,” reported an experience of torture and hell.  Those who believed in nothing reported an experience of nothingness.  And so on, weaving the thread between life and death.

  

I know a guy I like to refer to as a “Militant Agnostic.”  “I don’t know and you don’t either” is his motto.  I never understood this thinking.  Sure, evidence based science has its place, but not in the realm of faith.  If there exists even a possibility that there is an afterlife, why not reach for that hope? Why not believe? What do we lose by being open?  Maybe, just maybe, we would be more peaceful and relaxed and far kinder to every living person and thing around us.  Perhaps we would not fear death as we do.

It’s your life.  What will you do in the meantime?

What If . . .

There isn’t enough room

in your mind

for worry and faith.

You must decide

which will live there.

(unknown)

Tortured - MHopkins - Trim Castle, Ireland © 2014

I passed a neighborhood church with a sign that read:  “Worry is the dark room where negatives develop.”  Something in its message resonated to my core, not because I’m a worrier by nature but because, when I do, the train of “what if’s” can carry me to a dark and fearful place in a flash.  It’s not logical.

Like one of my students who, after nearly making herself sick with worry, suffering from insomnia and a whole host of physical symptoms that mirrored her chaotic mental state, confessed that she was worried that if she didn’t do well on the LSAT she would never be able to buy her own home.  What?  Let’s unravel that thought process; break it down for me.  I insisted.  She explained that if she didn’t rock the LSAT then she wouldn’t get into law school.  If she didn’t make it to law school she would never realize her dream of being a lawyer.  If not a lawyer, she wouldn’t make enough money to support a mortgage payment.  In a world full of homeowners who are not lawyers, it was easy to see the fault in her logic.  But it wasn’t logic that cast such a dark shadow on her thoughts. 

It reminds me of the parable about the young business man traveling along an unfamiliar road in rural America when he was stopped by a flat tire.  He couldn’t find a jack in his rental car, and it was impossible to change a tire without a jack, so he set off on foot for the closest home or business where he might ask to borrow a jack or at least a phone to call for help since his cell phone didn't have service.  As he walked, he imagined his conversation with the homeowner ending in rejection.  “No I don’t have a jack.”  “No you can’t use my phone.” And so on.  At one point, he even had an argument with the man he had yet to meet who had yet to refuse him help.  By the time he arrived at the nearest house and knocked on the door, he was so bent with anger and frustration that when the homeowner opened the door he screamed, “Never mind!” and walked away in search of someone who would help.

Worry, at best, is a misuse of the imagination!  At worst, it is the shackle that keeps us trapped in self-doubt and defeat.  Either you have some control over the situation or you don’t.  If you don’t, all the worrying in the world won’t make it so.  So next time you find yourself chasing that parade of horribles, ponder this:  What if all went pleasingly well?  What if you realized your greatest success? What if most of the things you’re worrying about never happen? 

What if…

It's All the Rage

Anybody can become angry—that is easy,

but to be angry with the right person

and to the right degree

and at the right time

and for the right purpose,

and in the right way—

that is not within everybody’s power

and is not easy.

~ Aristotle

Laughing Men, Vancouver, B.C.

Picture it:  You’re stopped at a red light waiting for it to turn.  Green. You barely have time to lift your foot from the brake when the car behind you starts blaring the horn.  Maybe she’s trying to tell me something, you think.  Is something wrong with my car?  Stunned, you haven’t moved through the light yet when the driver in the car behind you approaches.  You roll down the window.  She starts screaming at you then punches you in the face.  In self-defense, you cover your face with your hands, but then she grabs your wrist and bites off your middle finger—at the knuckle, through the bone—before fleeing the scene.

Sounds crazy but it’s a true story that happened in my aunt’s Northern Virginia neighborhood.  Aside from the obvious questions, like what allows a person to bite through skin and bone and blood vessels to remove part of a finger?  And once bitten, what do you do with it?  Spit it out?  Throw it in the owner’s car?  Leave it in the street?  I have to ask:  Why are we so angry?

You’re better than that.

You’re not an angry person, not the fighting kind.  You’re a volunteer, your son’s baseball coach, a Sunday school teacher at church.  Just last month, you attended a community fundraising event and donated money to support a local homeless shelter.

And yet you have these moments where anger gets the better of you—where ugliness turns you inside out and the worst parts of your nature are revealed; moments when your frustration builds to a fury and explodes in ridiculous ways as you burn those around you with your annoyance. 

Like yesterday when you got stuck in the wrong line at Whole Foods.  You stopped on your way from work, in a hurry to get home and make dinner.  You only needed three things, which should have taken five minutes from door to door.  Instead, the woman from Minnesota in front of you decides to write a check for her groceries.  Slowly. And of course, the cashier couldn’t figure out how to enter an out of state check into the system, which led to multiple cries for help on the P.A. system that went unanswered, followed by more failed attempts to process the check.  You’re ashamed to admit it, but you were huffing and puffing and on the verge of throwing your money at the cashier and storming out with your groceries.

Then, as you’re headed home, there’s a guy driving slow in the pass lane, blocking the free flow of traffic.  As you try to pass him on the right, you see that he’s talking on his cell phone and completely oblivious to the fact that there are other people on the road.  You make a point to give him your best stink eye with your face just inches from your window, and nearly rear-end the car in front of you because you’re so blinded by your rage.  Now you’re laying on your horn, screaming some shameful obscenity that your offender can’t even hear and, which, in any other moment you wouldn’t dare speak.  What's wrong with you?  One look in the mirror and you would see the reflection of a crazy person.

The scary thing is—you’re not alone.  There are a lot of “you” out there.

Take a look around.  We’re all losing it over something or another.  Our anger boils over in our politics and religions, in our music and social networking, in our schools and sporting events, in our jobs.  We rage over inconveniences.  We shake our fists with righteous indignation when others don’t do what we want.  Why? 

Have we become a culture so entitled to comfort and ease that we steamroll anyone or anything that gets in our way?  Are we simply scared of not getting what we want, afraid that we can’t handle it if things don’t go our way?  Perhaps we’re so accustomed to expressing our feelings and anger that we can’t keep it in check anymore.  Or maybe we’re suffering from a spiritual starvation that demands to be fed yet we don’t even realize what we’re hungry for? 

Its not an easy question to answer.  For starters, there just aren’t any clear-cut ways to judge how pissed off people really are, and why.  Perhaps we can ponder this the next time we’re recovering from a meltdown.  I dare you.  It’s all the rage. 

Stepping Into the Future

The future is something which everyone reaches

at the rate of sixty minutes an hour,

whatever he does,

whoever he is.

~C.S. Lewis

Mooghaun Hillfort - Dromoland, Ireland
(MHopkins 2013)

People speak of “putting the past behind us”.  But where else can the past be put?  It has only one place it belongs and, once there, can only be a reference point for the future.  Yet we make it a part of our present by clinging so tightly to our experience.  We go round and round in our heads, remembering some conversation, slight or injustice, real or imagined, and we stay stuck in that feedback loop reliving it again and again, often exaggerated and out of context because now we’re focused on some isolated aspect of our otherwise fading memory, giving it life, meaning and a whole host of expressions that perhaps never were.   Imagine what we miss while running around the same tired circles!

Can you see it?  How clinging to an aspect of our past might prevent us from seizing something wonderful that is available to us in the here and now?  Consider this: 

A new form of clinical psychology known as acceptance and commitment therapy (ACT) stems from the understanding that a great deal of our psychological pain comes not so much from the experience itself, but from the words we use over and over to describe our experience.  Instead of getting stuck in our heads and avoiding any real forward movement, ACT encourages acceptance of the situation, conscious choice of direction and action, bringing more meaning and psychological flexibility into our lives in the process.

In his book Get Out of Your Mind and Into Your Life, author and ACT co-founder, Steven Hayes, suggests that we can actually repeat a troubling word or concept over and over until it loses meaning and power in our lives.  Take the word grass, for instance.  Hayes recommends repeating the word over and over for 49 seconds.  Grass, grass, grass, grass, grass, grass…  The theory is that at some point, your mind will stop associating ‘grass’ with the luscious green stuff and observe it as a meaningless noise.  This disconnect between words and reality will allow us to drop those mind movies that have been tormenting us.  Why not give it a go,  beginning with ‘grass’ or some other word of your choosing and then moving on to the more emotionally charged descriptors that unnerve you, like ‘rejection’ or ‘failure’ or ‘broke,’ or any other parade of horrible that you can conjure.  The idea is to rub out the sting these words carry so that you can deal with life free from the fear created by your internal dialogue from the past.  Sound feasible? 

Diagnosis, they say, is half the cure.  But we’re best careful with how we use our diagnosis lest it becomes the story we tell about our life, the reason for why we can’t have or be or do what we want.  For just as understanding the root of our problem paves the way for setting it right, so too can it provide a ready excuse for not living our best life.

Is there something that you’re ready to put down, let go of, and leave behind?  Are you ready to reach for something new and make it real in your life?  As you move into a great new year, now is a perfectly fine opportunity to trade what torments for something more solid and real so that it becomes part of your future.

Wishing you all the best in 2014!

What Are We So Afraid Of?

Fear is the cheapest room in the house.

I would like to see you living in better conditions.

~ Hafiz

Along Came A Spider.

A few weeks ago while working my volunteer shift at Children’s Hospital Colorado, I received a special request to sit with a little girl in one of the  9th floor rooms.  Her parents were working and couldn’t be there; she had been alone for most of the day.

From the minute I sat down in that rocking chair, she curled her little body into mine and looked up at me with those big eyes that seemed to say, “what now?”  I suppose it didn’t matter because she already had what she most wanted in that moment—human touch can heal in ways that medicine can’t—and so I searched my repertoire for anything that might entertain and amuse.

I sang a few songs (amusing); recited some limericks (entertaining), and then I came upon Little Miss Muffet floating around up there in my memory bank.  Remember that old nursery rhyme?

Little Miss Muffet

Sat on a tuffet,

Eating her curds and whey;

Along came a spider,

Who sat down beside her

And frightened Miss Muffet away

~ Songs for the Nursery (1805)

I’ve known this rhyme for years, but as the words formed on my lips, for the first time, I thought about the implications.  The spider merely sat down beside her and it frightened her away.  Really?  Arachnophobia aside, are we that easily scared of possibility? 

It made me think about the way we all carry fear in our hearts of some kind--real or imagined--for things that may never come to pass, yet in everyday ways we let those fears direct our course.   Like when we withhold our opinions for fear of rocking the boat; or stick with something or someone that may not be best for our lives because we’re afraid of change; or when we choose not to try something new because we might not like it.  But what if we loved it?  What if it changed our lives in amazing and unforeseen ways?  What if that spider became Miss Muffet’s best friend and side-kick?

I once read that lurking behind every fear is an all-pervasive thought of “I can’t handle it.”  Yet we’re so much stronger than we think--we CAN handle it--and sometimes by facing into our fears instead of running from them or avoiding, we learn more about ourselves and what we’re capable of doing, creating, becoming.

What are we so afraid of? 

Not All Who Wander Are Lost

No tree has branches so foolish

as to fight amongst themselves.

~Ojibwa Saying

When teaching pre-law students the finer points of logical reasoning, there is a type of argument I like to call “Resolve & Explain.”  In it we are presented with a set of facts that appear to be self-contradictory yet in reality they express a possible truth, and we’re asked to resolve and explain this discrepancy.  The correct answer choice will always be that piece of information that explains how both sides of the contradiction can be true at the same time.  Oh the paradox!

Can you imagine it—the ability to hold opposing thoughts in your mind at once and allow them both to be true?  Without feeling threatened by what the other “truth” may mean to your own?  It’s a fascinating way of viewing the world and no easy task; especially when you consider how we cling to our positions. 

Nowhere is this more pronounced than in our world’s religions.  Take for instance the recent showdown in the media between Mitt Romney and his rival, Texas Governor Rick Perry, following senior Baptist minister and Perry supporter Dr. Robert Jeffress’ commentary that Romney wasn’t a true Christian and that Mormonism is a cult.  Oooh, wee!  Can’t you just hear the Bible-thumping going on down there deep in the heart of Texas!  And the presidential race is just getting started…

Consider my Christian friends who feel it their duty to “convert” others to Christianity; or my Muslim friend who believes that Jesus, a high profit, was born to the Virgin Mary but considers it a “blaspheme” to say that Jesus was the “Son of God” because God is Spirit and Spirit can’t have sexual relations.  What tiny little hairs are we splitting here, and what does that really have to do with the core tenements of leading a spiritual life:  faith, hope, love and kindness?

Or consider my father’s deeply held conviction that all those who don’t believe in the Trinity—father, son, Holy Spirit—will, in fact, burn in hell.  What about those who simply choose the path of peace and kindness and live out that example every day?  What of my Bible-quoting, God-fearing colleague who claims astrology to be “the Devil’s work” anytime anyone makes mention of a horoscope or “guidance” from the stars, yet, wait a minute… weren’t the Three Wise Men guided by the stars to Bethlehem on the night of Jesus’ birth? 

Even within certain groups there are smaller and smaller divisions based on opportunity and belief.  Bucket-loads of money are spent every year securing our relative “stakes” in the community and the world at large, convincing others to join us in our way of thinking.  Like the recent string of commercials showing the everyday lives of people who call themselves Mormon, illustrating that they are, in fact, quite normal folks just like you and me lest you buy into Dr. Jeffress’ attempts to color them cult-like.

Take a look around; examples abound.  If we are to have any chance of creating a world that works for everyone, we must ask ourselves:  What is that piece of information that will allow both sides of the contradiction to be true?  That Mormons and Baptists are basically good?  That Muslims and Christians are right?  That two folks who believe different things—one in the Trinity, the other simply in kindness and compassion—will both arrive at the same place in the end?

I ask and I ask and I ask, and I keep coming back to this answer:  There is only One source from which all of life flows.  We, us, them—we are but different expressions of the One, energetically speaking; molecules in motion dancing endlessly through time.  We can split hairs with semantics; divide ourselves in to smaller and smaller pieces of One pie; make “them” wrong so we can be “right” and duke it out in very public and heated debates that will never bring anymore clarity than this.

We came from One and, in the end, to One we shall return.

Be the Mountain Goat...

Her great merit is finding out mine…

~Lord Byron

Mountain Mystic.  © 2010 by Melissa Johnson.

I met John while living in San Francisco.  Quickly, he became my friend-spiritual guide-and-massage therapist all rolled into one.  Such magic in those hands, such wisdom in his understanding—after one session I was hooked. 

Trained in the healing arts of Chinese medicine, John began each session with a simple question:  “What’s going on?”  This meant that he wanted a brief State of the Union on my physical, emotional, spiritual and mental health because, to him, it was all connected. 

During the time I lived in the city, I met with John every week.  Through our conversations and his amazing body work I began to experience shifts in consciousness on many levels, but none more compelling than my understanding of what it means to be discerning.  We spent hours talking about life paths—his, mine and those of our friends.  We dissected, analyzed, and waxed poetic about love.

Then one day, while discussing my relationship with a man whom I loved deeply but who lacked certain core qualities that I wanted in a partner, John suggested that the key to my dilemma could be found by taking on the persona of the female mountain goat.  

You see, female mountain goats—or nannies, as they’re called—will climb to the top of a mountain peak and sit there.  She’s holding out for the billy with certain qualities—like horn symmetry; and short sturdy legs with a heavy body; top-of-the-line hooves to help him move about the rocky ledges; and, of course, social rank because this will determine his access to resources.  

© 2010 by Melissa Johnson.

Below her, all the billies are doing their male mountain goat thing—snorting, bleating, locking horns, fighting, pushing each other around in an effort to win her.  Some of the billies are killed or give up and move along in search of greener pastures.  But the strong contenders continue their ascent to claim the prize at the top of the mountain. 

They battle all the way, trying to edge each other off the rocky cliffs as they charge ahead.  But no matter what, no matter which billy she may fancy from afar, no matter what’s happening to him below, she does not reach down and help him up in his journey to win her.  Instead, she waits on her mountain perch and allows her suitors to exercise their determination and strength, for only those who make it to the top win a chance of partnership with her.  Then she gets to choose.

It all made perfect sense.

Now I’m not suggesting that men are the same as male mountain goats, although I must admit that I have witnessed some behavioral similarities.  Nor am I advocating that women (or men) just accept whoever shows up in their lives as “the one” by virtue of the fact that he (or she) beat a path to their door—that could get pretty creepy. 

And certainly in this day and age the need to select partners based on purely physical or biological characteristics has diminished; though let’s face it, the dictates of “survival of the fittest” lie innate within us.  So in a sense, I guess we all prefer a little horn symmetry.

But John’s mountain goat metaphor brought great clarity and the shift in intention I needed.  For months I had been riding the fence of indecision, torturing myself with what could have been fairly simple… if I was honest about my needs and desires.  And like the flick of a switch, suddenly all that was once dark and seemingly unknowable became illuminated by the light of my heartfelt truth. 

So I started applying this wisdom to every part of my life—personal and professional—and soon found myself initiating some major life changes, beginning with the end of my relationship and ending with a brand new career path. 

It hasn’t been easy.  At times I have second-guessed my decisions and the overall direction of my life.  Some of that’s natural, I suppose.  Just so, before I made any real progress, I had to revisit my ideas about what I thought it meant to be “successful” and make peace with the notion that I was my own greatest block when it came to creating the life I desired. 

And I learned to recognize that while people and situations show up in our lives often when we need them most, that doesn’t mean that every relationship, job or experience is meant to last forever.  Some things fall away because we’ve outgrown them or we need to be available for something else.  But we’ll never find that “something else” if we’re clinging desperately to that “not-quite-right-what is” because we’re afraid of change. 

Ultimately, discernment is the lens through which we make choices.  It does not mean that we're judging people and opportunities from a position of superiority.  Rather, it is to tune into the soul’s wisdom as we discriminate between this option and that, truthfully evaluating what’s before us while engaging our intuition about what’s best for our lives.  No easy task, to be sure.

Perhaps Steve Jobs said it best:

“You’ve got to find what you love.  And that is as true for your work as it is for your lovers.  Your work is going to fill a large part of your life, and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work.  And the only way to do great work is to love what you do.  If you haven’t found it yet, keep looking.  Don’t settle.  As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you find it.  And, like any great relationship, it just gets better and better as the years roll on.  So keep looking until you find it.  Don’t settle.”

BE THE MOUNTAIN GOAT.