Sweet Surrender

Faith consists in believing

when it is beyond the power of reason to believe.

~Voltaire

Sweet Surrender © 2010 by Melissa Johnson.
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My friend Jimmy got into a bidding war on eBay for the purchase of a human soul.  He didn't go there looking for a soul, but he was charmed by the illusion of buying one when he found it was for sale. “Well, I thought it might be nice to have an extra one in my pocket just in case…” he joked when I teased him about his near purchase.  Ultimately, he missed the cut-off time for entering his final bid and the random soul was sold to the highest bidder for $50.

And to think … the Devil went down to Georgia looking for a soul to steal.  Now you can buy one on eBay from the comfort of your living room--and relatively cheap!  The world is flat, indeed.

All joking aside, Jimmy’s eBay auction really got me thinking: What is the value of a human life and the soul that dwells within?

I contemplated the extraordinary capacity of survivors to rebound from tragedy and loss—like those who lived to tell of the atrocities of Hitler’s Germany; children rescued from brothels after being sold into slavery by their families; ordinary people beating the odds of cancer or other life-threatening illnesses; rising from the ashes of violent crimes, disfiguring accidents or financial disaster—and I wondered, what allows these people to surrender with grace to their crushing circumstances?

Sure there are stories of human survival aided not so much by a spiritual belief system but by a strong will to live, rising up from somewhere deep within their DNA—fight or flight. But more often than not, the common thread running through these stories of survival can be traced to a fundamental faith in something far greater than the individual even when the events of their lives made no sense; even when it seemed that they had been forgotten.

When things run amuck in our lives,
without a spiritual root,
what do we hold on to?

What do we surrender to?

How do we hope for something better?

Where do we put our faith?

Consider these equally tragic examples with very different outcomes.

Rwanda in the 90s was a dark place. Tensions ran high as the two main political groups—the Tutsis and the Hutus—were pitted against each other in much the same way that Hitler seized political control of Germany, turning Nazis against Jews. As it was in the 90s, if you had the great misfortune of being born into a family of Tutsis, regardless of your independent beliefs, you were a target for political genocide.

Imaculee Illibigiza was one of the few Tutsi women who survived. On the run, she was taken in by a Hutu minister and hidden from her would-be killers, while her parents and brothers were slaughtered along with a million others.

Her refuge was a tiny bathroom measuring 3 x 4 feet, hidden behind an armoire in the minister’s bedroom; she shared this space with six other women for more than 90 days as they waited and prayed for their rescue. They couldn’t speak out loud or make any noise for fear of being heard. They were instructed to flush the toilet only when someone was using the adjoining bathroom. Believing that the minister was hiding the enemy, Hutu soldiers repeatedly raided his home in search of more Tutsis to kill. Yet they never found the tiny bathroom concealing these women.

While in hiding, Imaculee prayed and meditated for hours each day. In her state of exhaustion and hunger, she saw a vision of herself working for the U.N.; she believed it was a vision from God. And she knew that she would have to learn to speak English so that she could communicate with the other U.N. workers. Trusting her vision in spite of the circumstances surrounding her, she convinced the Hutu minister to bring her a French-English dictionary and some other English-language books. French was her second language; but there, in that tiny bathroom, while hiding from vicious killers, she taught herself to read and speak English without ever saying a word out loud and with no guarantee that she would even make it out alive.

In her memoir, Left to Tell, Imaculee recounts her long and painful ordeal. What strikes me most about her story was her path of sweet surrender. She didn’t panic or freak out. She accepted the circumstances of that tiny little bathroom as being temporary, while never losing faith in God and what she knew to be true despite outward appearances. She believed with all of her heart that there had to be a reason for her survival--why she was the one left to tell this horrific story--and she was right.

Not long after her release from the refugee camps where she stayed after her confinement in the minister’s bathroom, she was offered work with the U.N., helping to rebuild Rwanda and using her English-language skills in the process. And while grieving the loss of her family, she met the man who later became her husband and loved her through her pain.

But what makes one person surrender to life
and another surrender to death?

In September of 2008, in the throes of financial disaster, Kirk Stephensen, a 47 year-old husband and father of one, and the chief operating officer of a private equity house, stepped onto the tracks at a rail station west of London. He was struck by a train and killed instantly. His death was ruled suicide.

Later that same year, in New York City, just two days before Christmas, Frenchman Rene-Thierry Magon de la Villehuchet slashed both of his wrists—found dead at his desk next to a bottle of pills—after losing $1.4 billion of his own money (and money belonging to his family and clients) that he had invested with Bernie Madoff, making him one of the biggest losers in Madoff’s fraud. Having tried unsuccessfully to recover the money, his brother described him as “totally ruined.”

Then at the beginning of 2009, German billionaire Adolf Merckle threw himself in front of a moving train, taking his own life and leaving behind his wife and four children. His spirit broken by helplessness and fears of financial loss and devastation, Merckle’s suicide is yet another casualty of our global economic crisis.

As I watched these events unfold in the news, I felt sick. What is wrong with a society that supports a mindset where an individual’s worth is measured by their bank balance rather than their acts of kindness, or the kind of parent, friend, spouse, lover, boss, or brother they are?  Where financial loss leaves people not just devoid of cash, but bankrupt of all faith in the ability to recover and create something better for their lives?

In his compelling book, Creating a World that Works for All, Sharif Abdullah suggests spiritual starvation as the root issue. He writes:

“Lest you believe that spiritual starvation is the by-product of race and poverty, let me present a nightmare about the children of affluence. From 1992 to 1994, I was on the core faculty of the Oregon Governor’s School for Citizen Leadership (OGS)...The students were predominately white and middle-class.

"One of the exercises we would conduct with them was 'Stand Up If . . .' On a purely voluntary basis, participants were asked to stand up if certain statements were true of them. Among the items was 'Stand up if you have either attempted or seriously contemplated suicide.'

"Consistently, 60 percent of the students would stand up. They wanted to kill themselves. Why would these mostly middle-class kids attempt or consider suicide? As children of material affluence, they are told they have everything this society can provide. But they are still hungry. So they incorrectly surmise that something must be terribly wrong with them. Or they choose to leave a society that seems to have nothing else to offer... They want connection and instead get materiality. They want meaning and instead get a life devoid of cultural and spiritual richness, a life ripped free of context—historical, social, spiritual, communal… America’s middle-class children face spiritual starvation on a mass scale.”

It's not just our children who are starving.

So maybe we're not ready to sell our souls on eBay or throw ourselves in front of a fast moving train, but at some point in our lives—probably more than once—we will face some form of hardship and intense life challenge. And while I am not suggesting a course of pounding people over the head with our religion, I do believe there is a quiet, gentle way of influencing others by looking first within and shoring-up our own faith.  After all, believing in a higher power and actually surrendering to it are entirely different things.

Be the change you wish to see in the world.

~Gandhi

Opportunities surround us everyday to practice faith and surrender in our lives, especially with the small stuff, which prepares us for the greater challenges.  And perhaps in so doing, we will send a calming, healing energy into the world, like ripples in a pond.

Here are some ideas to start:

1. When faced with a challenge, set-back or great difficulty, STOP SPINNING. Take a few deep breaths and remind yourself of at least one time in your life where you have overcome a seemingly insurmountable obstacle or survived a tragedy. Consider the source of your strength and how you made it through your ordeal. Follow that thought with a memory of a good time that came later. Look for the lesson.  Remember, you are strong; you've already worked through many challenges in your life. In every instance you have a choice in how you react to the problem.

2. Stay calm when possible and ground yourself. Seek sound, practical advice before making any hasty decisions. Get clear about what you need to do; stay alert and aware of all that is happening around you. Remember that love engages; fear reacts.

3. Connect with the comforting rhythm of a routine; yes, even in the midst of difficulty. Think about Imaculee in that tiny little bathroom with 6 other Tutsi women for more than 90 days. Even though she was hiding for her life, she still devoted herself to prayer, meditation and studying her French-English translations rather than surrendering to the fearful mind. Especially in difficult times, routine can bring peace and help us feel as if we have some command of our life. Eat nutritious meals whenever possible, take care of your hair and skin, exercise, sleep, pray, meditate, read books that inspire, and believe in good times to come.

4. Meditate on the image of a lion; contemplate his strength as you connect with your own spiritual strength—life-giving and eternal—radiating out from your heart like the energy of the sun itself.

5.  Be gentle with yourself.  As the saying goes, Everything will be okay in the end.  If it's not okay, it's not the end. (Unknown)

And as you move through the world, be ever mindful of the true value of Life and the precious liquid of your soul:  PRICELESS. . .

The Alchemy of Love

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

Awakening to the Dream. © 2009 by Melissa Johnson.
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Consider a snake molting her skin. She’s already produced new skin; it’s under the old stuff, but she’s got to get rid of it before she can get on with the business of being a snake in new skin. Still, the old stuff is holding her back from slithering around in all her snake glory. So she finds a rock or other hard surface and beats her head against it until she can break the skin, tearing it just enough to get some rollback action going; then she rubs and rubs and rubs against that rock until the old skin completely peels off, turning inside out.  In this she finds her freedom.

Transformation is serious business. When things aren’t working for us or we’ve outgrown our skin—when we hear the mysterious call to step into the unknown—we’re challenged to trade all that we are for what we might become. Yet in our restricted state, sometimes we can’t get the depth and breadth of vision to see where we're going.  With little more than faith in the process of Life, we’re urged to surrender even as we stand burning in the fire of change.  And that can be painful, like beating your head against a rock.

Change is the law of life.

And those who look only to the past or the present

are certain to miss the future.

~John F. Kennedy

It has been said that the vast majority of what we are is impossible to see or touch, and that our willingness to transform—to move beyond our FORM into something greater—is the key to having a quality life. There’s no question that we’ll experience change, for it is the only part of life that's certain. But whether we relax into our change and use our energy to help shape the outcome of our path, or fight it every step of the way, well, therein lies the choice. 

Perhaps that's why they say:

Struggle is sometimes necessary but always optional.

As for the snake, she simply does what’s in her nature to do; she follows the call of her Creator—from somewhere deep within her DNA—and sheds that skin, moving through change without resistance. Can you imagine a snake refusing to molt?  “No, I don’t want to shed my skin. I don’t care if it’s dry and cracked and restricting my movement. I don’t care if it chokes the life out of me. You can’t make me shed!”  Absurd?  You bet.

Yet as humans, many of us resist every step of the way. We become so attached to our bodies, possessions and ideas about the way things should be—so connected to our wounds, our anger, our fear—that we cling to what we know instead of shedding our metaphorical skin.  And in so doing, we deprive ourselves and the world of all that we could become.

Nelson Mandela came to a similar conclusion. During his 27 years in prison—locked up for his activism against the unjust laws of apartheid—he had a lot of time to contemplate his life and the many battles he fought to secure basic human rights for his people.  He read the biographies of those he admired, the people who had done the most for humanity, and he discovered that their success came down to a basic mindset—how a person handles hardship and disaster.  Does it transform or destroy?

Mandela said that his jailers had taken the best years of his life; that he didn’t get to see his children grow up. They had abused him mentally and physically, and they destroyed his marriage. But despite this, Mandela would not let himself live in anger, because he would not let them take his mind and heart… Mandela insists that if you want to achieve your goals in life, you cannot afford to engage in anger and you cannot waste your life fighting with the enemy. You rather want to create the conditions in which you can move everybody toward your goals. Mandela did this in 1995 when he gave his support to the predominately white Rugby team—a potent symbol of the former apartheid regime—engineering a massive shift in white public opinion.  [Nelson Mandela, A Life in Photographs, text by John D. Battersby.]

Like Mandela, I find that the greatest change agents are alchemists of love.  It doesn’t take an extraordinary person to do this; it only takes an ordinary person committed to positive change, doing unique and  extraordinary things in the face of adversity.

Ultimately, I believe that our ability to transmute the poisons of our negative emotions and life experiences into higher states of awareness is the process through which we reach wholeness; this is our path to freedom.  Remember the Law of Energy—it can neither be created nor destroyed, it simply changes form.  What kind of alchemist are you?   

As you move through intense periods of growth and change, ask yourself:

1.  What are the lessons and gifts of my challenge?

2.  Am I fighting myself and others? How can I relax my resistance to this process?

3.  What is my best path forward?  How can I maintain inner peace through this transition?

4.  Am I operating from love or fear?  Consider:

Where love creates, fear destroys.

Where love empowers, fear oppresses.

Where love expands, fear restricts.

Where love inspires, fear coerces.

Where love sees opportunity, fear sees loss and entitlement.

Where love seeks to understand, fear demands to be understood.

Where love says "How may I serve?"

Fear says, "What have you done for me lately?"

Whatever the changes, connect with the quiet wisdom of your heart; for there in the stillness is the way.

Sweet Love, Say...

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

Naked. © 2007 by Melissa Johnson.
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I’ve always been a lover. My first encounter came early. I was four years old and attending the Happy Hours Day Care Center when I met little Jimmy Patterson, a brown-eyed, brown-haired fellow with the biggest, sweetest smile and a knack for stealing kisses on the playground—often in exchange for use of his tricycle at recess.

I remember everything about that day, from the little blue dress I wore with matching lace socks and white sandals, to the excitement I felt as I let him kiss me on the playground. And later, when my tricycle sped out of control down the asphalt driveway and I landed in a heap of skinned knees, bloody toes and torn petticoats, he was there holding my hand as our teacher wiped away the blood and tears.

The next day, he placed four pastel-colored chocolates in my locker with a note that said, “I love you.” And though he didn’t sign his name to the gift, I knew it was from him. I was so excited! I went home that night and announced to my parents that I would one day marry Jimmy Patterson.

Then I met Christian, this cute little rug-rat who lived next door. We spent every free minute together—hanging from trees, riding our bikes and generally running round the neighborhood as a curious pair.

That fall, as a contestant in the Little Miss Pageant, I was interviewed by a local television station and when asked if there was anyone back home I wanted to say hello to, I raised my hand in a flirty wave and cooed, “Hi Christian . . . I love you!” I wanted the whole world to know.

By the time I reached the second grade, Christian was but a fading memory as Andy became my present. There was something about that boy—he made me weak in the knees—the way he smiled at me; the way he beat up Charlie Preston for writing on my light blue jacket with a black magic marker; the way he stood close to me in the lunch line and sometimes played with my hair from his desk behind me. He was my greatest champion, my best friend and my first real proposal of love.

Imagine my delight and surprise when Andy placed a lovely diamond ring on my finger at lunch one day—a ring that he had taken from the kitchen counter while his mother washed the breakfast dishes—and asked me to be his girlfriend. No one was more surprised than my mother, especially when I showed her the ring that night at dinner—secured to my finger with masking tape. And you can be sure that no one has ever experienced such heartbreak—oh the agony!—as what I endured when forced to give back the ring. 

Though it’s been more than 30 years since my first brush with romantic love, I’ve never forgotten that easy feeling. And while I didn’t actually marry any of my young suitors, with nostalgia I’ve carried their simple childhood love with me through life.

Love should be that easy, I’ve mused over the years frustrated with what more often seemed complicated than simple and easy.  Isn't it?  Yet how can it be easy, when Life demands so much more of us?

You’ve got to have something to eat

and a little love in your life

before you can hold still

for any damn body’s sermon on how to behave.

~Billie Holliday

Sure, we start out young and innocent enough, with our hearts and eyes wide open. Some of us have wonderful childhoods filled with loving memories. Others begin life with incredible challenges—violence, betrayal, abuse—that would harden the hearts of the greatest lovers among us. But no matter where we start, or the obstacles we face, we share at least one common denominator with the rest of humanity: We are at all times in relationship with everyone and everything around us.

Let’s face it, relationships are an integral part of our human experience, and I’m not just talking about the romantic kind. As we move through life, we engage in relationship at every turn: Lovers, friends, families, co-workers, our pets, nature—the world at large—all take part in this dynamic exchange. And so our challenge becomes one of moving through unique, yet similar, journeys of self-discovery and human understanding. In time, we learn that our relationships won’t save us from ourselves. Like babies, we must learn to self-soothe, making our own happiness rather than seeking it solely through our connections with others.

In this we’re presented with amazing opportunities to develop and nurture our most important relationship—the one we have with our Self. Sometimes we get it. Other times, the only thing we get is in our own way.

Consider this mind-body curiosity:

Our relationships exist primarily in our heads!

Sure, there are moments of physical connection
that we share with others,

but our perceptions, thoughts and feelings
about our experiences

take place on the inside.

Just so, love fuels our persistence.  And if we are brave—opening our hearts to the lessons behind our struggles—we learn some things. We learn that when we ignore our truth, we suffer. When we’re out of balance, we suffer. When we chase and grasp and cling so tightly, we suffer. When carelessly we give ourselves away, we suffer. When our thoughts control us like an angry master, we suffer. When we view life as a burden—playing the victim by giving away our choice—we suffer. When we resist the purpose and timing of our lives, or fight the changes that want to take us to the next level of ourselves, we suffer.

Then with our experience comes wisdom—and with wisdom, great responsibility. Eventually we get tired of the drama. We wake up. We understand that while our hearts may have broken, we’re not. We start making better choices—loving ourselves more; taking responsibility for our “stuff”—as we begin to see how often we have perpetuated our own misfortune by ignoring this simple truth:

What we do, how and with whom we do it,

will bring a definite energy and quality to our
experience, for better or for worse;
which begs the question—

are we living from love or fear?

When it comes to love, there’s always a risk—that we’ll get hurt, that we’ll be rejected, that our best friend or family member will disappoint us, that our beloved will leave us behind. But the only way that we'll ever fully open our hearts to the beauty of Life is by loving. It’s the energy that made us and, I believe, the only thing of value that we have to give.

This is the law of love.

Waiting. . .

Heroes take journeys,

confront dragons,

and discover the treasure of their true selves.

~Carol Lynn Pearson

Dragons of Destiny © 2009 by Melissa Johnson.

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Several years ago, at the Art of Music Gallery in Vegas, I saw a charcoal sketch created by rocker Grace Slick. It depicted a nude woman from behind, crouched low with her head sort of tucked to one side in a position befitting the artwork’s simple title, “Waiting.” I stood before it mesmerized.

How often had I felt at the mercy of something outside of myself, waiting ... for the next great idea … waiting for the right relationship to arrive … waiting to connect with my true life purpose … waiting for my big financial break … waiting for this person or that organization to recognize my value and worth … waiting for the day when all the pieces of my life would come together in a cohesive, meaningful way that would finally move me from the waiting list to actually living the life that I had been waiting for.

We’ve all done it to greater or lesser degrees. The offices of psychotherapists are filled with people who can’t quit doing it—this inclination to look to the future and dwell on the past. It’s maddening, and quite possibly our greatest obstacle to finding true happiness and peace of mind. And while counting down the hours, days, weeks and months are human illusions of a quantifiable future, in the final analysis we must ask ourselves: What are we waiting for?

Emancipate yourself from mental slavery;

No one but you can free your mind.

~Bob Marley

Maybe we enjoy a delicious meal with friends or family and, while eating, we’re already talking about what we’re going to eat at our next meal. Or, while gathered with family for Christmas, our discussion turns to how we’ll celebrate the holiday next year—a whole year away. Maybe we’re on a date with someone and we’re wondering about the future of the relationship—where will it go? Or we’re on a fabulous vacation but unable to relax, consumed with a general uneasiness and guilted by all we’ve left behind. Maybe we’ve taken a step in the direction of our dreams, yet the joy of positive action is overshadowed by a million little details that we’ve yet to address or our fear of failure. Why can’t we just enjoy the delicious chocolate mousse with raspberry drizzle?

I’ve asked myself a thousand times, how can we be expected to stay grounded in our experience moment by moment when filled with dreams and desires that require some measure of forward thought, planning, vision, movement, and, yes, waiting, to make them real? Anyone who has pursued higher education, started a business, built a house, had a baby, or lived their dreams with any success will tell you that it doesn’t just happen by waking up in the morning and wishing it so. It takes action, commitment and patience, while the crop ripens or the idea matures.

Consider this: The Hopi Indians view the world as either being manifest now, in the present moment, or in the process of manifesting from the unseen world of Spirit. Their word for this is “tunatyava,” meaning comes true being hoped for. The word contains no verb tenses to indicate past, present or future—everything simply is, although at different stages of being. What is thought or felt in the heart is silently communicated to the Spirit world from which everything manifests. It’s all one continuous cycle of creation. We could learn a few things from the Hopis.

The masterpiece doesn’t create itself;

it must be guided by the artist’s hand.

Perhaps the key lies not in eliminating our forward thought and past reflection all together, but in learning how to constructively work with our thoughts, for we are not our minds--they are great servants when we direct their course but terrible masters when they get on top of us.

Remember, if we spend our time in an anxious state—stuck in the past or obsessing about the future, doing battle with the dragons of worry, guilt, doubt and fear—we may not be free to enjoy the very special and lovely things about this moment. For the only creative moment we ever really have is right now.

Ask yourself:

1.  How do I spend my meantime? Do I fill the time battling dragons or do I focus with faith on the gifts of my time lapse? (Remember, it takes just as much energy to worry or feel guilty as it does to do something constructive, yet each action produces very different results.)

2.  What can I do today to honor forward movement while staying present in my current experience?

3.  Is there a person or group who can benefit now from the gifts and talents I bring to the world, instead of waiting for some future moment to be all that I am?

4.  What can I do to refocus on the present when I find myself doing battle with the dragons of my mind?

5.  What will be the masterpiece of my life?

By Melissa Johnson

Beautiful Dreamer

Dreams are illustrations from the book

your soul is writing about you.

~ Marsha Norman

Dreamweaver © 2008 by Melissa Johnson.

Once while traveling in Brazil, I was approached by an elderly woman in the town of Ipanema. She grabbed my arm and began wrapping my wrist with a pink ribbon inscribed in Portuguese. I had no clue what the words meant, but I couldn’t ignore her urgency. She looked deep into my eyes and spoke in hurried, exaggerated tones, demanding something of me.

Sensing my confusion, a local bystander explained that the woman wanted me to make a wish. I love a good wish! So I closed my eyes and silently wished with all my might that the vision I held of my best life would come true.

She tied a knot in the pink bracelet, urging me to make a second wish, then a third. Each time she tied another knot in the wrist band, I closed my eyes, trying desperately to think of a different wish so as to maximize my wish potential, but all I could summon was a repeated prayer that my greatest dreams would come true.

After tying three knots, the wish-granting lady rambled some long, deliberate admonition, and in a flash she was gone. Again, my benevolent bystander translated her warning: I was not to take off the ribbon. It must come off on its own. If I removed it myself, my wishes would not come true and I would have bad luck. He also told me that the last time a similar band had been tied around his wrist it took more than two years for the ribbon to wear thin and fall off on its own. Great! Two years, I thought. This neon, hot pink thing clashes with most of my wardrobe.

Then one night about a month later, while lounging around the fire with some friends, my pink wrist-band became the topic of conversation. They wanted to know why I was wearing it and what it meant. I told them the story and, though not one for superstition, I joked about how I dared not remove the bracelet lest I destroy my wish.

One of the guys appeared to be napping throughout this conversation; however, when I finished my story, he jumped from his chair in one swift movement—grabbing a knife from the kitchen counter in one hand and my wristband in the other—and cut the damned thing off! But what happened next astounded me even more: Defiantly, he shoved the ribbon in his mouth, chewed on it for a minute, spit it out, and then dropped it down his pants. Then he flopped back down in his chair to resume his nap, mumbling something about “stupid visions” and “bad luck.”

Keep away from people who try to

belittle your ambitions.

Small people always do that,

but the really great make you feel

that you, too, can become great.

~Mark Twain

It was all very dramatic. And all I could do was watch in horrified amazement as my sincere wish to fulfill my highest vision was chewed on, spit out, and shoved down this guy’s pants. I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. But I vowed then and there that I would never let someone destroy the vision I held for my life—literally or metaphorically—and I promised myself to be more discerning when choosing my friends.

The moral of the story:  Your dreams are your own. Safeguard them and never surrender your vision to the reckless disregard of others.

Points to Ponder:

As we move deeper into this new decade, into this new year, and into another month of possibility, ask yourself:

1.  Have I been true to my goals and dreams? Do I even know what they are?

2.  Is it possible that the comments or opinions of others have jaded the vision I hold for my life, or my belief in what is possible?

3.  Have I denied some aspect of myself that longs for expression?

4.  What can I do today, no matter how small, that will move me one step closer to the fulfillment of my dreams?

Remember, your greatest desires plant seeds of thought deep within your mind that, when cultivated by the imagination and nurtured with unwavering belief, grow the vision of your soul. Open your eyes. See with unlimited vision. Free your mind. Do one thing every day that supports your desires. Be willing to correct your course as you learn new information and move through obstacles.  And watch as your garden grows.

By Melissa Johnson

Passion Rising

Don’t ask yourself what the world needs~

ask yourself what makes you come alive,

and then go do it.

Because what the world needs

is people who have come alive.

~Harold Thurman Whitman

Passion Rising © 2007 by Melissa Johnson.

In the movie Serendipity, the best man is asked to give a toast at his friend’s wedding. As a columnist for the New York Times, he decides to write the toast in the form of an obituary.

“The Greeks didn’t have obituaries.

When a man died they only asked one question:

Did he have passion?”

He goes on from there to remember his friend’s great passion for life and how it inspired his own.

My friend Stephan is like that. A charming French-Moroccan man I met while living in San Francisco, to me, Stephan is synonymous with passion, and I’m not just talking about the sexual kind. I’m talking about the kind of passion a person brings to life—even to the routine everyday things, like shopping and cooking.

A trip to Whole Foods, for example, was a spiritual experience for him. “Look at the tomato, sweetie darling,” he would say, holding it high in the air to get a better look at it. “Look at the color, how red and beautiful. Feel how soft the skin is. Can you even imagine all of the delicious dishes that we can make with this amazing tomato?”

Then two aisles over, “Consider the olive,” he might say with a twinkle in his eye. “It has all of the properties to give us a good life. We cook with it, and its oil helps the flow of blood to our hearts. It’s used in the lotions that moisturize your beautiful skin. Did you know it can even be used for lamplight? Can you even believe it? And when you put the olive together with the tomato, ooh la, la! So many delicious dishes we can make!” Every trip to the market was this way.

And cooking was no different. Stephan loved to cook, singing in the kitchen as he moved about, insisting that I taste and smell the flavors along the way, reminding me of the importance of using all organic ingredients. He used neither recipes nor measuring devices; his senses were the gauge of culinary perfection. And always, as he placed the platters of food on the table, he would smile and say to his guests, “I made it with love.” I think Stephan’s meals were so amazingly delicious, in part, because he was filled with passion, an energy that flowed into his food.

We all have the flame of passion inside us. For some, connecting with it is as easy and natural as breathing. For others, it’s a struggle to find, much less express. And for others still, it seems an inconvenience; why bother? When you consider the role that fear and human conditioning play, it’s easy to understand why some people are disconnected.

As children we hear things like: Simmer down. Don’t be so loud. Girls don’t jump out of trees. Big boys don’t cry. You can’t be an astronaut—we’re not that smart in our family. Use your fork; don’t eat with your hands. And for heavens sake, don’t burp or fart out loud.

Then our religious institutions tell us that all kinds of things are sinful and ungodly—dancing; sex without marriage or procreation; divorce; drinking a glass of wine; showing our hair and skin.

As teenagers and young adults we’re told to grow up, quit goofing around, and get serious. We hear things like, “Who do you think you are?” and “What will the neighbors think?” We’re encouraged to seek security by getting a “good job” and sticking with it, with little, if any, emphasis on whether we even like the work.

In relationships, we’re told that compatibility is more important than chemistry, that it’s just as easy to love a rich man as it is a poor man; that you can’t have everything so you might as well “love the one you’re with.” We see people all around us settling for the “safe” thing or “the bird in the hand,” not what gives their heart the greatest joy.

It’s no wonder that by the time many of us become adults, our flame is just a flicker. How can we expect to open our hearts and connect with our passionate longings when we’re so estranged from ourselves? It’s as if we need permission to be who we are. So how do we break the deadlock?

Success isn't a result of spontaneous combustion.

You must set yourself on fire.

~Arnold H. Glasow

You know how people say that we should live each day as if it was our last? Inspiring advice on one level, but when it comes to passion I’ve got a better idea. What if we decide to live each day as if it were our first? What if we decide that this year, we’ll get back to our roots—lighthearted with a certain innocence of spirit—like children, approaching the world with excitement and curiosity that can only come when we’re unburdened by worry, fear, anxiety and doubt.

What if we shed these debilitating thoughts like old skin, wiping the slate clean and forgiving ourselves those uncomfortable demands that weigh us down with expectations of how things ought to be or would have been if only . . .

What if we rub our eyes free of the jaded perceptions that color our view of what’s possible in the future because of how things happened in the past? And rekindle the flame of passion as we connect with what gives our heart the greatest joy, remembering that our energy and dreams are the purest most natural resources that we have to offer the world.

What if we commit to something different? Can we do that?

Will you set yourself on fire with a spirit of possibility and the promise of each new day?

I think you can. In fact, I know you can. Now step away from your comfort zone . . . and get ready to burn!

As a ceremonial start, try Stephan’s recipe for passion:

Grandma’s Moroccan Meatballs

(Serves 3-4 of your favorite people)

Ingredients:

(Remember: All organic, sweetie-darling)

1 lb. ground beef (or turkey)

1 bunch parsley

2 cloves garlic, minced

2 small white onions (1 chopped and 1 cut into long, thin strips)

1 teaspoon fresh chopped ginger

1 teaspoon turmeric

Salt & pepper to taste

6 juicy Roma Tomatoes, sliced into wedges

1 tablespoon tomato paste

½ cup water

Extra Virgin Olive Oil (EVOO)

Lots of passion and love for your dinner guests

To prepare:

In a large mixing bowl, combine ground beef (or turkey), ¾ of the parsley, garlic, 1 chopped onion, ginger, turmeric, salt & pepper, then mix with your hands. Go ahead; don’t be afraid to get dirty! Form mixture into small meatballs and set aside on a plate. In a large sauté pan, add about 2 tablespoons of EVOO (or enough to swirl around and coat the bottom of the pan), Roma tomato wedges, 1 small onion (sliced in long, thin strips), the remaining parsley and a bit of salt & pepper. Sauté the vegetables on medium-low heat for approximately 10 minutes; stirring occasionally. Add tomato paste and water, stir and sauté for another 5 minutes. Then add meatballs to the pan, cooking slowly (still on medium-low) for 7-10 minutes on each side, turning once. And don’t forget to infuse your food with lots of love and passion. Try singing as you move about the kitchen.

To serve:

Arrange Moroccan Meatballs on a large platter with cooked tomatoes, onion and sprigs of parsley. Serve with mint tea and a platter of olives, assorted artisan cheeses and a large French baguette. Make sure you eat with your hands, tearing off chunks of bread and using them to scoop the meatball mixture, olives and cheese! And don’t forget to lick your fingers!

And for the vegetarians among us, the vegetable sauté is delicious even without the meat and makes for a wonderfully seasoned compliment to lentils, pasta, couscous, or as a simple bread-dipping sauce. Get creative!

____________________

Ooh la, la! Many thanks for my dear friend Stephan, for inspiring my passion and allowing me to share his Grandma’s delicious dish. Happy New Year everyone, and bon appetite!

By Melissa Johnson

Anything is Possible

The best thing you can give yourselves...

is the gift of possibility.

And the best thing you can give each other

is the pledge to go on protecting that gift in each other

as long as you live.

~Paul Newman

The Garden of Possibility by MJ; © 2008

I had a professor in law school who would show up, on occasion, to teach class dressed in a polyester Elvis costume—complete with a cape, pompadour wig and jet-black sideburns. He would swivel his hips and strut across the room, lower his chin and say in his best Elvis voice, “Anything is possible.” The class roared with laughter.

But it wasn’t all fun and games. The Elvis Anything-Is-Possible-Gig was his clever way of teaching an important principle of tort law: When bringing or defending a personal injury case, you must open your mind to every possibility in the chain of causation. He would throw out questions like, “What if, just before hitting the plaintiff in the crosswalk, a dog ran in front of the defendant’s car and he swerved to miss the dog, losing control of the car? Who’s responsible… the dog?” We all yelled out our answers.

“What if we can show that just before the incident the defendant had his tires rotated, and the mechanic didn’t tighten the bolts properly and the wheels were loose, which caused him to lose control of his car? Who’s responsible now?” The crowd went wild.

“Take it one step further. What if we could show that the local distributor, The Bolt King, delivered a box of defective bolts to the mechanic? Now who’s the defendant? Can we still sue the dog?” On and on it went, our excitement rising with each new possibility. And just when he was about to lose control of the class, he would swivel his hips once again and say, “Now what if Elvis showed up to teach this class? Could that happen?” We cried out in unison, “Anything is possible!”

Elvis taught us an important lesson about opening our minds to the unlimited possibilities that surround us. As lawyers, our clients and careers depend on it. Justice demands it. In fact, I think our failure to keep an open mind is, perhaps, the greatest obstacle to reaching a fair and just conclusion in any given situation.

But we’re human and, sometimes, in spite of our best efforts, our life experience and conditioning will lead us to draw sketchy, narrow-minded conclusions that are riddled with judgments and expectations about how things should be. And then when our expectations of how things should be clash with our reality, we become the source of our own suffering—frustrated, stressed out and disappointed with what we see.

Just so, we must find a healthy balance between the ambivalence of having no expectations at all and being so consumed with how we believe things should be that we spin out in dodgy assumptions. We must do our part to move things forward while leaving room for the magic and miracles of Life. And we must bring our awareness to the inescapable truth that our deepest held beliefs—for good or ill—will form the cornerstones of our expectations, which, in many ways, will influence not only what we see, but also the choices we make, which, in turn, will create our experiences.

"If it happens, it is possible."

~An unnamed law of the universe

Consider, for instance, our views of life and death and the extraordinary findings of survivors of near death experiences (NDEs), recounted by Depak Chopra in his book “Life After Death.”

“There are many specifics that change from person to person. Not all NDEs ‘go into the light.’ Some patients report traveling to various planets in space or to other worlds according to their religious beliefs. Some experience a judgment scene that can be quite harsh, or even hellish; it can also be full of satisfaction, however. . . The nature of the person plays a large part. A child can come back from heaven and report that it was full of baby animals at play, a cardiac patient can report sitting on God’s lap and being told by the Almighty that he must return to Earth, and [others] can see every detail of Tibetan theology. These images clearly depend on the culture they reflect. . . If different cultures see such different things after death, we must face the possibility that we create our own afterlife.”

Okay, S-T-O-P right here. What was your immediate reaction to what you just read? Did you think, “Oh that’s a bunch of crap!” Or did you relax into a thought you hadn’t considered before?  No matter your reaction, assuming the reports of the NDE survivors are true, think about the implications of this important research: What we experience in the afterlife—who and what awaits us, and where—will be a direct reflection of our beliefs, expectations and current level of awareness.

With these findings, we are given a brilliant opportunity to actively shape our experience of the afterlife by working with our thoughts and expectations right here and now. And, too, might this enable us to cut each other some slack for our different religious or theosophical perspectives? It’s certainly something to consider . . .

Consider, too, our general beliefs about the meaning of time. Our entire lives are structured around a one-way notion of time—it marches forward, never back. And everything in our physical world confirms this understanding.

From the moment of our birth, we age according to a system of days, weeks, months and years, marked on the physical body by wrinkles, tired old bones and mysterious ailments that come with the advancement of time. Insurance companies hope that time is on their side as they collect premiums from the young and healthy that will surely be paid out in healthcare for the sick and elderly. Our banking institutions and investment systems all borrow from time, hedging our bets and interest payments against a notion of time that only works with forward movement.

The criminal justice system, too, is completely based on a linear version of time, with the severity of the crime measured by time served, and the most heinous of offenders—in a properly functioning legal system—receiving the longest sentences.

We wake and sleep, we plan vacations into the future, we celebrate the arrival of each New Year and the passage of each birthday, anniversary and special occasion, and we commemorate it all by scratching off days on the calendar and capturing select moments on film. Its evidence—the ultimate proof—that our notion of time is right. Or is it?

But then what about premonitions? What about the scores of people who reported seeing the events of September 11th in dreams or visions, or those who simply had an uneasy feeling that something bad was going to happen that day so they changed their previously scheduled flights, BEFORE the planes flew into the Twin Towers? What of the numerous premonitory experiences reported every year to research centers around the world set up for the purpose of receiving and analyzing the visions of those who “see?” If we cling tightly to our treasured belief of time then, when faced with the notion of premonitions— the ability of one to see, intuit or sense the happening of an event before it actually happens —our beliefs are shattered into a million little pieces. Poof!

In his pioneering work, The Power of Premonitions, Larry Dossey, M.D. explains:

“If premonitions are valid, our commonsense beliefs about time—that it flows inexorably in one direction and that we’re locked into knowing only the past and the present—can’t be correct, because this view prohibits premonitions... Perhaps we might revision time by changing our perceptions. Time flowing one way, most physicists say, is a psychological illusion. Can we give up the illusion? Can we ‘change time’ by changing the way we think? The answer appears to be yes."

Can you change your thoughts about time?  Do you become one of the skeptics who scramble to debunk, discredit or explain away those who have “seen” ahead of linear time? Or is there room in your belief system for a bit of possibility and course correction?  After all, things are not always as they seem.

Expand this principle to every aspect of your belief system. Explore what lies beneath. Dig deep. Make sure that what you’re carrying is truly yours, and not some unexamined relic of the past or a fragment of popular opinion that you dare not question. With courage and truth, be willing to leave behind those thoughts, beliefs and expectations that no longer serve you. And then open the door for the wonders of life because...

Anything is possible!

__________________________

By Melissa Johnson