Tapestry of the Heart

“Any human life situation

is like the momentary position of a kaleidoscope;

and the group of souls within that situation

are like the bits of brightly colored glass

which form an interesting pattern of relationship.

Then the kaleidoscope is shaken . . .

and with this flick of the wrist there comes into being

a new design, a new combination of elements.

And so on, again and again, time after time,

always different . . . always it is significant, and always

there is a dynamic and purposeful intention. ”

~Gina Cerminara, PhD, Many Lives, Many Loves

Tapestry of the Heart

New York, New York

I met Connor on a plane from New York City.  At the time, I was dating an aspiring young photographer whom I had met on the beach in Florida months before.  He had flown to New York to surprise me for Valentine’s Day.  I was surprised alright; especially when I learned over dinner that he hated children so much that he had taken medically necessary steps to make sure he didn’t father any. 

There I was, at yet another relationship crossroads trying to sort out the truth of my desires.  Did I even want to have children?  Did I see myself as a mother?  What was motivating my decision?

We had argued when I broke up with him.  The next day, he insisted that I accompany him to Ground Zero.  In an effort to appeal his case, he reminded me that the people who went to work there on September 11^th fully expected to return home that night.  “Life is uncertain,” he said.  “How do you even know that you can have children?”  True, he had a point, and we really did have fun together.  But logic notwithstanding, a red flag waived in my mind’s eye.

The Meeting

So it was on my return flight to Florida that Connor introduced himself.  He was my age, single, ruggedly handsome, had never been married but wanted to be, and he adored children.  He couldn’t wait to have a family of his own, information he proudly volunteered over in-flight cocktails.  We talked non-stop, and by the time we arrived at the gate in Atlanta it was as if we were old friends.  He asked if he could call me sometime; he would look me up the next time he came to Florida.  I gave him my number and we parted ways.

Meanwhile, I was in a state of flux.  I knew I needed to call things off (again) with the photographer, but I was swayed by indecision and basically avoiding the inevitable.  Then Connor called.

It had been more than a month since we met.  I had thought of him often, remembering his passion for children and family and finding comfort in that.  So when he called to tell me that he would be in my area at the end of the month, I readily accepted his invitation for dinner and, that night, I ended things with the photographer.

But Connor and I never did have that dinner.  His trip was delayed.  I went to L.A.  We re-scheduled.  His flight was cancelled.  I went back to New York.  We rescheduled.  Through it all we continued to speak by phone almost every day for three months until, finally, we came up with a plan:  A double concert weekend with James Taylor in Atlanta and Elton John in Pensacola.  We planned every detail, excited to see each other again when I returned from New York.    

A Love Connection

Then one night about a week before our date, Connor and I were talking on the phone and the subject turned to love.  “Have you ever been in love?” I asked.

Connor laughed, and then told me of his childhood sweetheart Karley.  They had grown up together, both from large Irish-Catholic families.  In the 4^th grade, she had given him a homemade Valentine, and he kissed her.  They were inseparable after that, dating throughout high school and college.  The summer after graduate school, she gave him a Celtic friendship ring and proposed marriage.  He accepted.  A year later, Connor called the whole thing off.

“Why?”  I asked.

“She didn’t want to have children.”

“Is that the only reason you broke things off?” I pried.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

“What would make her not want to have children?” I furthered.

“Well, she had just finished grad school and was about to start a new job . . .”

“How long has it been since you’ve seen her?” I coaxed.

“At least four years, but I hear about her from time to time through mutual friends.”

“What would you do if she came back to you and said, ‘Connor, I’ve changed my mind; I do want children’?” I posed.

           

“Honestly? I don’t know.  I’ve never considered that.  When she said ‘no children,’ all bets were off.  What about you?” he asked, changing the subject, “When was your last relationship?"

I told him about my recent break-up with the photographer for similar reasons, and we marveled at the parallel.  But I couldn’t ignore the small voice within warning me that Connor was not mine to love.

Calling All Angels

Two days before our long-anticipated first date Connor called, “I’ve got good news, and bad news,” he said.

“Okay, let me have it; good news first.” 

“Well, Monday, after we spoke, I couldn’t quit thinking about your questions. They stirred up a lot of painful memories for me.  I stayed up all night reading old letters and looking at pictures of Karley . . . of us . . . just thinking about things.  Then, yesterday, I called her.  We talked for six hours and guess what?  She’s sick of Manhattan; bored with the corporate world.  She wants to have children!  She’s ready to begin that part of her life! No joke.  We’re meeting in Hilton Head this weekend, can you believe it?”

“Oh my goodness, that’s . . . wonderful?”  I said, shocked yet fascinated!

“And so the bad news is, well, I’m canceling our date.  Are you mad?”

“Are you kidding?  How could I be mad?  The whole time you were talking about Karley, I knew she was your soul mate.  Just promise that you’ll keep me posted; let me know what happens.”  He promised that he would.

The following Tuesday Connor called with news of his engagement.  “We have you to thank,” he said.  “I told Karley that if it hadn’t been for your questions, I never would have called her.  You’re an angel; really, I think you’re an angel.” 

I was so happy for them, yet I could hardly believe it was true.  I had met this guy once on a plane and hadn’t seen him since.  Now here we were, more than 3 months later, sharing this incredible moment of transformation. I would never view my relationships the same again.

Giving Thanks

Today I am humbled as I reflect on my life, filled with gratitude for the brilliant threads linking past, present and future, and as I step confidently in the direction of my dreams, hand-in-hand with my beloved, I know that I am exactly where I’m supposed to be, comforted by the delicate intertwining of spirits, meaningful and purpose-driven.  

In the end I've learned it's true:  No matter the outcome, when we’re open and willing to look beyond our immediate needs, our connections with others will bring the most significant opportunities for self-discovery, expand our capacity for human understanding, and leave the greatest space for love.

IT'S ALL IN YOUR MIND!

“Don’t Make Assumptions.

Find the courage to ask questions

and to express what you really want.

Communicate with others as clearly as you can

to avoid misunderstandings, sadness and drama.

With just this one agreement, 

you can completely transform your life.

~ Miguel Angel Ruiz

As You Think (c) 2012

They stayed in the city that night instead of retuning home to the mountains, so they seized the opportunity to take a late night stroll through the neighborhood—past the restaurants and yoga studios, churches and schools; past the houses with lights on where people moved about the way they do before turning in for the night.

Thrilled to be out walking past 9 p.m. (something they rarely did in their mountain community), they walked slowly, hand-in-hand, savoring the night, as they moved comfortably between sound bites of their busy week and absolute silence.  Then it happened, one of those “Aha!” moments that brings understanding.  The exchange went something like this:

HE SAID:  You know, if we kept our place in the mountains and bought a house or condo in the city, we could go walking like this every night.

SHE SAID:  That would be fantastic!

HE SAID:  But once our child starts school we couldn’t do that.

SHE SAID:  Why not?  We could just go after dinner.

HE SAID:  No, that won’t work.  Once our kid starts school we won’t be able to do that!

SHE SAID (with growing frustration):  Well, why the heck not?  I mean, once the kid starts school he’ll be old enough to stay up past 7 p.m., so why couldn’t we just have an early dinner and go right after?

HE SAID (also with growing frustration):  What are you talking about?  Once the kid starts school it won’t even be an option!

SHE SAID (eyebrows cocked, hands on hips and evermore frustration):  What am I talking about?  What are YOU talking about?  It’s not like our kid has to go to bed at 5 p.m.—why couldn’t we just go after dinner?

HE SAID (voice raised, chest bowed and that tone he gets when he’s convinced he’s among idiots):  Once school starts we’re not going to be running back and forth like that just to go for a walk in the City!

They stopped in their tracks and looked at each other, their faces colored with a mix of amused irritation and a hint of understanding; something in their communiqué was amuck!

Turns out, she had assumed that if they had a second home in this lovely neighborhood that their child would attend the prestigious Academy, a charter school located right in the middle of the development, so there was no reason why they couldn’t make this walk every night after dinner if they chose to.  But she didn’t say that; not to him anyway; not out loud.

And it turns out that he had assumed that once the kid started school they would be staying at their mountain home during the week because that’s where he would be registered for school, in his home community.  But he didn’t explain any of that; not to her anyway; not out loud.

But the real kicker is that this “child” they spoke of, the one whose schooling would prevent these fabulous evening walks through the city—completely fictitious; an unborn idea between an unmarried couple dreaming out loud about the future.

All the while, she thought he was being uptight about their child’s bedtime and he thought she had gone mad thinking they would be driving up and down the mountain to accommodate a late night city stroll, neither making any sense to the other at all.  But as the hole in their communication cleverly revealed itself, real magic happened.  There, in the gap, they saw the unspoken assumptions that had led them down this path of confusion.  They laughed so hard it hurt!

Thing is, so much of our experience of life takes place in our heads!  Sure, we move about in our day-to-day existence, grounded in the physical.  Yet whole worlds exist up there in the space between, real or imagined—for good or ill—and our perception of the world and the people in it and what’s going on around us all come from that place; including our disappointments about the way things “ought to be,” which points the finger of our personal suffering right back at us!

We make assumptions and then we make assumptions about those assumptions—assuming others are operating with the same understanding—many of which are flawed and which, in oft surprising ways, trigger our emotional experience and inflame our hotspots.  Next thing you know, you find yourself in that heated debate over why you can or can’t take an evening walk in the city after dinner with your unborn child because of where he’ll go to school!

Fascinating and a little bit scary when you consider that on some level we’re all doing this—experiencing the world around us in our heads—which may or may not produce an accurate picture of what’s really going on.  The key, I think, is to ask questions.  

When we make clarity and truth a priority in our lives, it allows us to acknowledge when we don’t understand something, to ask for confirmation, without getting all tangled up in the ego's need to be right.  And as our young couple learned, when we seek to bridge those communication gaps rather than assume another’s intent when we feel confused or offended, real magic awaits.  The only dumb questions are those not asked, so go ahead, give it a go.  You'll be surprised at the outcome and, who knows, you might just have a good laugh! 

What Remains

“All I have seen teaches me

to trust the Creator for all I have not seen.”

~Ralph Waldo Emerson

What nobody says about faith is that even in the most idyllic, peaceful of circumstances—when you somehow find a way to stand firm in your belief that you are where you need to be at any given time experiencing what you need to experience—having absolute faith in a process for which there is no guarantee can be a tumultuous proposition at best. 

 

Something good happens.  Let’s say you land your dream job with a little elbow grease but, in all honesty, not much effort on your part.  Perhaps they sought you out (the job literally fell in your lap) and you’re certain that it’s divinely inspired.  Your income and notoriety is on the rise, shining star that you are, and you are certain you are where you need to be.  Your faith is unstoppable! 

 

Then something bad happens.  Let’s say you find yourself on the receiving end of a cancer diagnosis.  Though aggressive, there are some good treatment options and so you roll up your sleeves and embark on the journey of a lifetime to beat that cancer and say YES to life!  But not before you go through a vigorous round of "Why me?" and "What did I ever do to deserve this?", spinning out in your mind with those counterproductive questions for which there are no immediate answers but which are, nevertheless, inevitable given the circumstances of your Life. 

 

Some people want to know that nothing happens by chance—not without their prior consent anyway (in this or another life)—a belief that puts us in the driver's seat and makes us responsbile for what happens to us because somehow in someway we had a hand in creating that experience, karmic or otherwise.  New age philosophies champion this concept, fending off skeptics who quesiton "Why in the world would I ever choose that?" with a quiet, confident reply:  you chose to have that experience before you were born, while still in spirit form, to further your soul's growth.    

 

Others say, “Well, it was God’s will...” when something bad happens, or "God was really looking out for me!" when forturne favors us, which, on some level, allows us to resign responsibility. But what does that really mean?  That it was God's will for you, his lovely and perfect creation, to get cancer? Or that God was looking out for you when you narrowly avoided that car crash, but not so much looking out for that child in Cambodia who was sold into slavery by her parents or that person you know battling cancer?  Why not?  Why would God so randomly distribute good will, selecting who gets to be happy or sad, healthy or sick, advantaged or disadvantaged and so on?  Weren't we all created equally and loved unconditionally?  How are those decisions made?  That one person is faced with a fight to live and another gets chosen for their dream job?   It hardly seems fair.

 

Either way, it seems to me that Life doesn’t much care how “in control” we think ourselves to be.  We’re all tested in one way or another, and if we are faithful to whatever process or situation we're going through we will discover our strength, deepen our faith, and learn something about how well we cope with the obstacles and struggles that come our way.  If we want to be rid of the latter we need only accept that it’s not only impossible but completely unnecessary to hold on so tight in an effort to control that which we have so little control over.  For the only thing that most of us have any real control over in this life is how we think, what we do on a day-to-day basis, and how we respond to the story unfolding around us.  

 

Perhaps that's why they say that struggle is sometimes necessary but always optional.

 

Consider, for instance, the quiet, detached faith it takes to grow something—anything—like a walnut tree, a process that can take 40 to 60 years to fully develop from planting to harvest. Depending on when you plant that seed you may or may not live to see it become all that it was meant to be. Mostly, I think, folks don't spin around with thoughts about whether that tree will grow or harbor feelings of persecution if it doesn't.  You plant that tree with every faith in its life and growth, maybe to benefit your children or grandchildren; perhaps for a lucrative harvest.  And if it doesn't work out?  Maybe you plant another tree.

 

In the end, whether you’re there to witness its final glory or simply rest in the knowledge that you had a hand in creating its beauty, the shade and loveliness that drapes the next generation is evidence of your fearless faith in the process of Life. That might just be the key.

INTO THE LIGHT

Intuitive Mind.

“There is no siren whose call is quite so exquisite

as the music of the future.

For as long as writing has existed there are records showing

we have sought to know its form.

Last year alone, literally billions were spent by widows, lovers, spies and presidents—

all seeking, like an arrow through time,

some way to answer: “In the future, what will . . .?”

~Stephan A. Schwartz

  

I knew I had hit rock bottom when I found myself on the phone with a pet psychic and I didn’t even have a pet.  Allow me to explain.

Having felt the first seismic tremors shaking the foundations of my life, I wanted someone to tell me what it all meant.  Why was it happening? Where was I going? Would it all be okay? Everything was upside down.  My relationship no longer worked.  Professionally, I felt the need for big change but what?  I knew that any change would create a domino effect in my life geographically, financially, and emotionally.  I was hearing the call but I was afraid to listen. What if I got it wrong?

I was scheduled to go to Hawaii the next month for a much-needed vacation, so I decided to turn my trip into a soul-searching retreat.  Maybe I can find a spiritual healer, I thought; some wise old sage to sit with me by a volcano and tell me what to do.  I began with an Internet search for “spiritual healers in Hawaii,” and within moments a page full of psychics and self-proclaimed spiritual advisors appeared on my screen. They promised “spookily accurate predictions” and direct lines with God.  Before that day I had never called a psychic in my life, but I was a woman on the edge, desperate for answers, and I was curious to know what they could see...if they could see.  I had been praying for guidance with no real-time answers and I needed to make some decisions soon, and so I started calling people on that list, growing more agitated and despondent with each call.

I was wasting my time.  None of their “predictions” were the same; none even came close to identifying my concerns.  They couldn’t “see” my life.  Then I got mad.  I was mad at how vulnerable I felt.  I was mad at the inconvenience of change.  I was mad because no one could see my truth.  I was mad because these people claimed to have the answers, preying on the likes of desperate people like me, and I fell for it!

Then something took over.  One-by-one I called them, all of these self-proclaimed seers.  I didn’t engage them in any real discussion; I just rang them up and gave them a piece of my mind, calling bullshit on their craft.  “What makes you think that your ‘line with God’ is any stronger than mine?”  I challenged, denying their exclusive link to the spirit world.  I unleashed my anger on all of them until I found myself on the phone with a pet psychic, crying, exhausted and ashamed of my temporary insanity.   

It was crazy, the way I behaved; so sad and hilariously pathetic that I had to share it with you now.  Thing is, I know what it feels like to be out there on a limb, equally scared and enticed by change, wanting a guarantee or confirmation of my next best step.  Sadly, not one thing in my years of formal education, study, practice or religious upbringing prepared me for this moment. 

In law school we’re trained to be aggressive in finding answers to our clients’ most pressing dilemmas; to solve problems and sort through the rubbish until we get to the truth; to counsel our clients on their next best step.  It’s professional malpractice if we don’t.  Whole industries are born and thrive around the practice of law and our need for information, supplying never-ending volumes of legal statutes, treaties, case law and continuing education seminars where lawyers network with each other.  We form special interest groups to deal with very specific legal issues and solve those pesky, recurring problems that demand solutions.  Even with the most difficult issues you can bet that someone, somewhere out there, has dealt with your problem and it’s just a matter of how resourceful and diligent you are in finding that information. 

But how do we find answers to the questions in our personal lives?  There is no book or standard that we can call upon to find the answer to the questions:  Should I take this job?  Should I marry…? Is … the way forward in my life?  Sure, we can seek comfort and perhaps some proverbial guidance by reading the Bible, Qur’an, Bhagavad Gita, Torah or other religious text.  We just have to go online to find a world full of life coaches and career counselors, Ask.com and Google searches, and self-help books with formulas and ideas for finding your life purpose or dealing with a wayward relationship.  Some are quite good.  Still, I challenge anyone to show me in any of these books or resources a direct answer to the pressing and super dynamic question:  Where do I go from here?      

Come to know what you know . . .

Not what you know in your head, 

what you know in your heart . . .

Everything you need is right there waiting for you,

To own . . . and to give away . . . in love.

~Gail Harris, Your Heart Knows the Answer

For the record, I do believe there are people in this world who have strong connections to the Spirit realm.  I am not here to discredit those who do, as many have helped to heal the sick, solve crimes and locate missing children; some are also mediums that provide an open line of communication between the living and the dead.  However, I have learned that when it comes to discerning the direction of my life someone else’s vision is no substitute for my own.

For light I go directly to the Source of light, 

not to any of the reflections.

~Peace Pilgrim

In Latin terms, the word intuition comes from the root “intueri”, which can be translated as “to look inside” or “to contemplate.”[1]  We come into this world with all that we need to survive and thrive in the outside world, including the ability to know our personal truth—a sixth-sense that is available to us all. 

Psychologist Carl Jung called it “perception by the unconscious,” where answers come less by thinking and feeling and more from sensory connection. There is that instinctive, intuitive process that brings things sharply into focus, alerting us to danger so that we can get out of harm’s way.  But there’s also the more deliberate intuitive connection that will guide us if we let it. Not a quick fix but a process that takes time and patience to discern.  Some people never connect, for reasons that I believe have more to do with the noise and chatter of our lives than lack of access to internal wisdom, but if we are committed to the process we can learn how to root down and quiet the logical mind, not empty the mind but still its processes, which allows us to connect our base of experience with our lifeline to the Divine.  There, in that space, solutions arise. 

It’s there for the taking.  We need only tune in, and trust ourselves to go into the light.

[1]  Carlin Flora. "Gut Almighty". Psychology Today. Vol 40. Issue 3:68-75,2007.

MAKE IT GREAT!

 “When I think something nice is going to happen

I seem to fly right up on the wings of anticipation;

and then the first thing I realize

I drop down to earth with a thud.

…the flying part is glorious as long as it lasts...

it's like soaring through a sunset.

I think it almost pays for the thud.”

~L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Avonlea

Moose Tracks (c) 2010; Melissa Johnson.

I once saw a documentary on the mating rituals of Moose. Fascinating and a bit disappointing, really, for reasons you'll soon understand.

There’s such hullabaloo in the ritual.  Come autumn, as if on cue, the bull moose begins to shed the soft velvet on his antlers.  “Shed first, mate first” might well be their motto, and the mature males usually go first, kicking off the rutting season by thrashing antlers about in the brush.  This alerts nearby cow moose (hey, ladies!) and other bulls that the game is on, confirming their prime status and challenging nearby bulls to a little stiff (ahem!) competition.

The bull then digs a hole (a few inches deep and a couple of feet wide)—his rutting pit of love—into which he urinates and then splashes around to cover his head and antlers and whatever else he can soak in his smell.  Strangely, this robust smell triggers ovulation in a nearby cow, which sends her into heat.  

Other bulls close-by respond to her smell and his call, fighting and knocking antlers and pushing each other around as they pound their moose chests, challenging each other for the chance to breed with the cow.  The cows are just sort of hanging out waiting to be chosen before their “time” runs out.  This process takes days (and about 25 minutes of a 30 minute documentary) to sort itself out. Then, finally, the superior bull makes his move . . .

It’s fairly anti-climaxic after that (pun intended), for the actual sex act between them takes just seconds to consummate.  Prime bulls may mate up to six times in the one-month season and, if my memory serves me correctly, I think the statistic was something like a whopping 90% of cows get pregnant on the first go in healthy moose populations!  Shortly thereafter, the bulls lose interest in the cows and the mamas basically raise their babies alone.  The end.  And just like that, the documentary was over.

I couldn’t help but laugh at the obvious comparison.  Okay, so moose mating rituals and the human experience are entirely different things, but in a similar way do we not build-up—even dramatize—the major events and relationships in our lives, planning each detail in our fascinating minds, plotting each move; soaring high with anticipation about how wonderful and great it’s all going to be when “it” goes down?  Only later to discover that the actual event was nowhere near as exciting as the road we took to arrive there. 

Apparently this sort of event anticipation is quite common among us two-leggeds.  Take vacations, for example.  A study conducted by researchers in the Netherlands (reported in the journal Applied Research in Quality of Life) found that the simple act of planning a vacation boosted individuals’ happiness quotient for eight weeks compared to the more baseline levels of happiness (or stress) that the same folks reported upon returning from the vacation.  (To read more, check out the NY Times article “How Vacations Affect Your Happiness”, published February 18, 2010, www.NYTimes.com.) 

Among other things, this study illustrates in simple terms the impact of excitement and anticipation on our happiness and overall sense of wellbeing.  Whether we’re planning a vacation, plotting a career change, making preparations for a wedding, dreaming of climbing that mountain or whatever other thing we can conjure in our minds, we’re wise to slow down and savor the delicious anticipation and excitement along the way.  

Indeed, it’s not just about the outcome but the journey itself.  Make it great!

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?