holy love: our sacred bonds

ho·ly

  [hoh-lee] 

adjective, ho·li·er, ho·li·est.

holy:  having a spiritually pure quality: a holy love.

i've been thinking a lot about faith and the automatic confidence we have in our parents when we are young. how we unquestionably take their hand and trust what they tell us.  i suppose this can be good or bad, depending on the situation. but i was thinking particularly about when i was a child, in first grade, and we lived in a small trailer somewhere in georgia. my dad was stationed at an army post nearby and we lived off a dirt road. my mom drove us every day across the state line to take us to a private catholic school in south carolina.  that was the last private catholic school i went to, because our life soon took a different path.  we didn't have much but i didn't know that. what i did have, was security.

not because of religion.

but because of faith.

i remember the day my mom told us that my dad "got orders" and we were moving to europe. i remember crying, and her asking me with a surprised tone, "why are you crying?"

i said, "i'm scared to go on an airplane."

my mom promised me that it would be okay. she said it would feel much like riding on a bus, only smoother. and that at times i might even forget we were moving through the air.

i took her hand and believed without a doubt. both emotionally and physically.  i believed that the plane ride would be okay, and that we would be okay and intact when we arrived overseas, that i wouldn't find myself all alone in a foreign land, not knowing the language, sitting on cobblestone, surrounded by endless streams of busy strangers unaware of my aloneness, myself unable to ask for help and no one knowing i was even lost. 

i put all my 7 years of faith in this one person. 

looking back, i don't know if she was afraid at the time.  it never occurred to me that she might be nervous or anxious about any of it.  i didn't know enough to question or wonder about that. 

i trusted her with my life, my fears, and my rapidly loudly beating little heart.

i think it is sacred, and an honor, when we have moments of faith like that as adults, with people other than our parents. when we can physically and/or emotionally take someone's hand and with all of our being, and our rapidly loudly beating wounded heart, take a true leap of faith, and step where we have never stepped before.

i believe that when we do experience it, our spirit is trusting another spirit,

and it is less like a human bond

and more of a holy bond.

♥

a few years before my first memorable step of faith

pieces of me ... letters to my children

someone recently said to me that she believed in my conviction, in my own belief in the words i spoke to her, because she knows that i always speak directly from my heart.
this person remembered things i had talked about and written about almost a decade ago, which isn't a long time in the big picture of things, i realize this, but it surprised me and i felt honored not only to be her friend, but also to discover that part of me lived inside another person in this way.

also recently i was thinking about how when somebody leaves our side, regardless of reason or circumstance, it is helpful to be able to have something of theirs that is tangible ... whether we hold an item that belongs to them, or have a tattoo as a way of keeping and carrying their permanent presence, or sometimes words that they have written that speak from their heart and live in ours (sometimes both!)

i know that many of us have been in situations where we find ourselves going back and reading things that someone we love once wrote to us.  it is not always possible to define the peace or love that this can bring to us, often during moments when we need it most, in order just to find our very next breath.

i also then started thinking about my children, and when they will be grown and away from me.  and i wanted them to have pieces of me any time they want.  pieces of my heart.  pieces of my spirit.  words that they know come from the very center of who i am.  i decided to start writing something every day, (this is my plan) and consolidate everything in one place.  whatever is on my mind.  random thoughts.  random feelings.  i have set no rules ... i am not a rules person and i don't like being told what to do ... apparently not even by myself!  just something i can give to my boys one day.  maybe they won't want this or need this, and that's okay too.  still i want to offer it because, well, we just never know what life is going to throw our way,
and i know what it's like to feel alone
and need a piece of a person,
when i can't have the whole person,
in person ...

weathering the storm with grace and love

♥

“I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship.”

– Louisa May Alcott

weathering the storm with grace and love is not only possible, but key to our spiritual growth and enlightenment. we can rise above and BE more.

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weathering the storm with grace and love

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what we think about, we bring about ...

♥

paying it forward: love in a lunchbox

so the other day i was sitting in a starbucks parking lot, facing the road, looking in the mirror and putting on lipgloss before driving away.

i noticed a woman standing in the median in front of me.  she wore a heavy coat several sizes too large for her body.  a hat.  thick pants, and brown work boots.  she kept a backpack at her feet and she carried a small cardboard sign that was ragged and creased, and looked like it had seen many days out in the cold weather we were having. 

i found myself watching her for some time, and i ended up not driving away.  i watched to see her heart in her eyes ... and any expressions on her face, and those of the passersby … a constant flow of drivers pulling up to the traffic light, pausing and texting, and often not even acknowledging that she was there at all.

i then noticed through the corner of my eye, a man approaching from the right.  he too wore a heavy coat and hat, and walked with a slight lean forward to brace the cold wind, with his head facing downwards as if he were looking at each step he took.

"Judgements prevent us from seeing the good that lies beyond appearances."  -Wayne Dyer

he approached this woman, unzipped his coat, and pulled out a lunchbox.  it looked full.  he handed it to her, and as she took it, he touched her hand with both of his.  they exchanged words which of course i could not hear.  they did not hug, but she extended an arm across his back and he did the same in return.  kind of a half-sideways-not-really-hug but more than a handshake.

i tried to quickly capture this moment in a photograph but from beginning to end it was faster than the time it took me to get my camera and turn it on without taking my eyes off of them just so i wouldn't miss a single second.  

the man nodded to her with a smile and returned back towards from where he had come.  i watched him.  i watched her.  i wondered if he worked in the building directly across from where i was sitting, and had seen her through the window.  i wondered if the food was his own or someone else's or a collection of items from different people from wherever he came.  or an old lunchbox found in the bottom of his car with who knows what inside … i have found a lunchbox or two in my car that my kids have abandoned and forgotten.  not a pleasant discovery i must say!

i watched her some more.  she knelt down and seemed to say a few words out loud.  then she held the cardboard sign in her mouth and she opened her backpack and put the lunchbox inside.  as she did this, she took an item out of it, then zipped the backpack closed.  she held the item in one hand and then held the cardboard sign in the other, stood back up, and faced the traffic once more.  i noticed her posture ...  she looked tired yet strong.  her face, expressionless.

i kept an eye on the man to see where he was going.  i wanted to thank him by going somewhere to get him a gift card or something but i was afraid i would lose track of him.  he did not go into the office building across the street.  he walked over to a car wash and i noticed a car parked there with the door open.  

it was his, and he began to vacuum his floor mats as if he had not just done this extraordinary act.  had i not been in that spot at that moment, or not paying attention, i would have missed that moment.  it was over.  from that point on, no one approaching that intersection would know it even happened.  

i drove over and spoke with him, asking his name, and letting him know that i saw his grace extended to the woman with the sign.  he was younger than i would have guessed, he looked and sounded to be in his very early 20s at most.  he seemed very shy and alarmed, almost embarrassed, as he quietly told me his name was anthony.

i asked him about the lunchbox and he said it was his, but that he was on his way to work and figured she could use it more than he could.  that he could more easily get another lunch.

"It's not how much we give but how much love we put into giving."  -Mother Teresa

i had no gift to thank him with so i hugged him and thanked him for being a beautiful example of the human spirit, for being a giver, for helping a stranger, and for making my day.

this was such an amazing moment to me, and i found myself smiling in awe of these two strangers who did not know i was witnessing their interaction.  

i hope my children grow up to be boys who would do the same kind of thing.  i hope they will think of others and their situations and give to people regardless of what the receivers might do with what they receive.  many people reject the idea of helping those who stand with cardboard signs … many people have concrete beliefs about why they are there or what they could or should be doing instead of standing there.  but who are we to say?  it is not our place to judge.  we have no idea what their story is or how their journey has landed them in that place at that time.  very typically, people at the age of 20ish do not identify with this circumstance.  at that age of our life we do not typically consider how or why that person got there.  or that any of us could end up there at any time for any reason.  or that not everyone has the same circumstances or opportunities or blessings.  i was touched to be an unknown observer of this exchange, and even more grateful to see that it was our youth reaching out with such generosity and goodness.   

he could have been my son.  your grandson.  your brother.  your boyfriend.  your daughter's future husband.

and the woman could have been any one of us.  or our mother.  aunt.  sister.  neighbor.  

a person in need isn't just a needy person.  that person is a human being just like you and i are.  a spirit, a soul, an energy.  

sometimes a lunch isn't just a lunch.  

sometimes 

it is a grace of God. of this beautiful universe.  of you.  of me.  of our collective energies.

of Love.

♥

no words ...

some say that when a young life passes away, we can learn from it, impermanence. 
some say there is a reason for everything. 
sometimes i can't find a reason. 
sometimes tragedy strikes and hearts are just destroyed. 
and there are no words to say
that can make it better.

becoming real ...

i was thinking this past week, about spirit.

and how faith in a person, loving a person, can bring about their real self.

i was also thinking about the difference between knowing you are loved, and feeling you are loved.

it is possible to know, without a doubt, that someone loves you.  yet it is a completely different thing to feel that someone loves you.  and knowing someone loves you does not guarantee that you will feel loved by that person.

but the feeling of being loved completely ... allows us to be who we are, completely.  our real selves.  we know we are safe, our heart is safe, our real self is safe ...

this nurtures our spirit and keeps it alive ... 

like during the holidays, you see something similar in many of the christmas movies ... when the children (and in some movies the adults too) believe in santa claus, their belief in him makes his sleigh fly;  believing in santa makes him exist ... makes him real.

when we as parents believe in our children to make good choices, to "be good" and to do what's right, they generally rise to meet that standard.  our belief in them, in that way, makes those ways real.

when teachers believe in their students, and treat them as if they are already successful, they succeed in larger numbers and with greater accomplishment.

it is not just the christmas spirit ... it is the human spirit.

when someone believes in us and loves us, completely ... wholly, and without fail

not because of what we can do for them ...  not because of us "doing" anything at all ... but just because we are who we are ...

when someone believes in us,

like the little boy believed in the velveteen rabbit,

we become real.

we become who we really are.

who we've been all along,

since we were very young,

and uninhibited.

who we are capable of becoming

without fear 

or doubt.

i am fortunate to know with certainty that i have been loved in this way.

it gives me great peace to know

that i in turn

love

in this way...

there is a true calmness that settles over our heart when we realize and recognize this.

a lightness, a settledness (if that's a word) inside our chest, that provides a clearer and brighter path for us to walk.

(i used to describe this as a rushing inside my chest that one day i realized had stopped ...)

when we are not hindered by anything outside of ourselves, when we are moved and encouraged by love and faith (faith of any kind, in any thing or in anyone) ... we are free to live from our heart, we step more surely and believe in those steps ... as we become real.

and as the skin horse assured the velveteen rabbit ...

once we become real,

we can't become unreal again ...  ♥

between the drops

on be-ing: be grateful. be unafraid. believe ...

♥

i wonder how many of you saw the heart in the leaves :-)

♥

love is my religion

♥

be brave. be authentic. be you.

searching for robbie wood. and finding the human spirit.

today is the anniversary of the amazing rescue of robbie wood, jr.

this time last year, thousands gathered together, hugged, and cried, rejoiced, and cried some more, when the young robbie wood was found alive after a week long exhaustive search in the woods of doswell, virginia.  robbie, an autistic 9 year old, had separated from his family on sunday, october 23, 2011.

i was part of this search, every day, going first thing in the morning and staying until i was told to leave.  it was an experience i will never be able to forget, nor would i want to, for so many reasons, on so many levels.

one of my very best friends joined me and i remember the breath escaping both of us simultaneously as we pulled into the parking lot that very first morning of the search, and we saw the tremendously long line of volunteers which had already formed.  people who stopped their own world from turning, and went instead where their hearts led them.

there were almost no words.  we understood this in this fragile moment, and we managed to mutter something to each other about human spirit.  with heavy hearts it felt as though we walked as one, to join the line.

we stood in line from early morning until afternoon, to register and receive instructions regarding the search.   i can't explain how it was that we could not be anywhere else at any moment in time on that day.

strangers hugged one another, helped one another, and came together right before our eyes.
the tension, the fear, the gratitude, the hope, was rampant.

one of the volunteers

we searched until dark and returned home with weariness, anxiety ... and tension, fear, gratitude, and hope.

the next day brought more of the same, but less time waiting and more time searching.  the people in charge were amazing and tireless.  the woods were so thick in areas that we literally could not see 3 feet away from where we were and we had to constantly call out to each other to know by sound that we were not alone, and that we were still together as a team.  there were thickets and holes and all kinds of random things and places to search in, under, behind, and through.  there were swamps and ponds and water holes that we walked through, hills and trenches that we climbed, all the while feeling for a child and looking for any clothing or evidence that he was there or had once been there.  with every step forward, around, and sideways, there was hope.  we all wanted to find robbie, in a bad way.  but at the same time, we did not want to find him "in a bad way" or (and these are difficult words) not alive.  so when i say that with every step there was hope, believe me when i say that with every step there was also fear.  at the end of the day, it was physically hard to leave.  we didn't want to go and return to the safety and warmth of our own homes, with our own families, knowing this child was still lost, temperatures were freezing, and his family was still aching.  with every return, every night fall, there was prayer, meditation, and faith.

every day was the same.

although i was tied in emotional knots and physically exhausted, i spent time awake every night watching my own children sleep, listening to them, breathing their breath, and kissing their innocent and unknowing faces.

at the end of the week, just as we were returning from a search around lunchtime, we received word that robbie had been found.  through tears and smiles and hugs and words that i cannot even remember, we managed to move toward the tents full of volunteers serving food and drinks, and we anxiously awaited more news.  hearing that robbie was not only found, but also alive and okay, was enough to bring people to their knees.  my search partner had not been able to come that morning, and he was turned away when he did arrive in the afternoon, because there were more than enough volunteers already that day which could be trained and organized before dusk.  although he had left, he turned his car around and came all the way back, to be a part of this monumental moment.  we were all in shock i think, and it would be some time before we could realize that it really was over.

for several weeks afterwards i could literally not go any number of minutes without thinking about it, talking about it, feeling it.  i was very fortunate to meet one of the deputies during the search, who was kind enough to entertain my insatiable need to discuss it, and he said to me days later, "hasn't there ever been anything that happened in your life that you could not explain?"

these words have never left me.  i am quite certain that he does not know the effect this had on me, how i treasure his personhood, and how his words have rested in my soul, just laying quietly there, but living strongly with every rise and fall of my chest.

i still think about it, i still talk about it, and i still feel it.
we all searched for robbie.  with faith, hope, and love.
and we all witnessed the human spirit.  alive.  strong.  and invincible.
my gratitude
is never-ending.

 the flag raised afterwards in celebration of robbie's rescue

honoring our connections

♥

sometimes there are people who come into our life and we don't know how it was that we ever did not know them.

sometimes there are people who we connect with, even before we really speak.

sometimes there are people who we cannot disconnect from, even after we part.

there are those who touch our heart,

challenge our mind,

feed our soul.

i believe it is important to honor our connections.  no matter how big or small they might seem today.  no matter how much bigger or smaller they might become on any other day.

i believe it is important to see inside them and really treasure who lives in there. 

the gift of their presence might seem effortless,

but it is their greatest truth,

their spirit,

their journey,

and deserves to be handled with care.

so be thankful.

be thankful.

and be

thankful.

my hand on your heart

my hand on your heart.

your hand on mine.

my shield all around you

which only love,

kindness,

and help can get through.

breathe peace in our space.

walk freely.

as i walk with you.

we use the power of our words

only in the direction of truth and love.
we believe in others.
we believe in us.

like water,

soft to touch yet strong enough to move the earth,

i move through you

and fill you

like water finds and fills every crevice surrounding every rock

in the river.

our faith in each other

protects us and guides us.

we step surely.

we love purely.

my hand on your heart.

your hand

on mine.

the unconditional condition

is it necessary to label ourselves with a belief system, and in doing so immediately create boundaries that we - and others - are unwilling or unable to cross?  do you know anyone who does this, and consequently, considers anyone outside of this belief system to be "wrong?"  i do.  and i am not saying that i believe they are wrong for believing this way.  i believe they are living in the ways that feel right to them.  and i seek to understand their perspective and to feel from where they feel.  what i AM saying, is that this fascinates me.

recently i found myself in two separate experiences, each mirroring the other, yet each person unaware and on the outside totally and fundamentally opposing the other:

one person who is completely and proudly atheist, absolutely and without any reservation, was explaining to me the scope of parental love.  this person said, "there aren't many things that i know for sure in this world, beyond the shadow of any doubt.  because there can always be questions about anything.  but the one thing i do know, no matter what, with all my heart, is that no matter what happens, i will always love my children.  it doesn't matter what they do, say, feel, or think."   i asked, "even vote?" and believe it or not the answer was:  "even vote."  "... even if they ended up in jail for doing something horrible.  i would want to understand.  i might disagree … and i would still love them.  they are my children, and that is forever, and that love can never ever be broken.  that love always, always comes first."

not long after that, i was discussing God and judgment with a person who is completely and proudly christian.  and this person said, "i believe that God loves us without judgment, and loves us the way i love my children.  my children are going to do things that i do not agree with.  things i might not want them to do, might hope they don't do, might be mad at them for doing.  we are not always going to agree.  i might think, what the hell are they thinking??  but none of those things are going to make me love them any less, or stop loving them.  they are going to do what they think they should do and i have to let them.  i have to trust them.  they are going to mess up; we all do.  but my love for them does not diminish.  i believe that is how god loves us."

these people will probably never meet, nor would they be likely to carry on such a conversation with each other if they ever did meet.  but what is interesting to me, and what touches my heart, is what is so obvious.  these people could not be farther apart, more opposite in their belief systems.  neither one would consider the other to be "right."  and it's not about right.  or wrong.  things are not always right or wrong, sometimes they just are.  and how important is it if one of them believes in God, or the Universe, or a Supreme Being, or Love, etc? …  at the core of each one, all of these are the same … the very inner spirit, the love, is the same.  the root, is love.  the common bond, is love.  the most important thing, the truest connection, is love.  this is the universal language and it was my honor to find myself as like a midpoint between these two energies.  as if i could look to the left and see one; look to the right and see the other ... and know that i am surrounded by love.  i believe we can all connect to others in this simple and natural way.  all it takes is one person at a time.  once you connect with one other person not at face value, but as a human being, at this core level of one heart to another, there is no judgment there.  there is no room for it.  and this becomes more natural and more instinctual.  this is what so many people are missing in their own lives.  this is what so many people are missing about everyone else around them.  they are so busy forgetting to look at the hearts of others; instead … they are looking only … at what they see…

and this is simply, not,  the best that we can do.

THE ROCK

this is the story of how this blog was born.  

someone who i am very close to, and who i feel connected to, recently traveled to another continent. while gone, i asked him to bring me back a piece of that place. not a souvenir, not something made someplace else and imported in for sales to tourists ... but something like a rock. or a spoonful of dirt ... a piece of bark. something native to the land, something "of" this place that he loves to go to, this place that co-mingled with his energy while he was there, where he breathed the air, listened to the sounds, felt the rain and the sun and the breeze, where his feet walked its earth, where he ate the food, where he loved the people ...

i think it might have been against his typical souvenir buying, but he did it.  when he picked it up it was half immersed in water in a lake or pond or something (i can't remember,) and he immediately sent me a message saying he had found the perfect stone to bring to me.  when i finally held it, i treasured it immediately and planned to put it on my nightstand. partly because i am overly symbolic and sentimental. partly for a reminder that no matter what different lands we walk on, we are all connected. we remain connected through distance and time.

that was already treasure enough for me.
then the words came, and this is how.

this person is a very faith based person and he played a song for me which he said was his current favorite. he seemed to have a little trepidation, mentioning that it was a christian song ... i could tell that he wanted me to hear it and know the words, but he didn't want the religious aspect to affect my perception. it wouldn't have of course ... but he didn't know that.  i could also tell that he was really trying to share something that meant a lot to him ... he played the video and asked me to read the lyrics as it played. when it got to the chorus i felt tears in my throat before they even made it out of my eyes.  i can't even say how or why. i heard and saw the words "my heart looks like your heart" and i looked at him and tears were sliding down his cheeks. he turned away and shortly after that, he turned the song off. it was so much ... and i could feel the immense scope of it in the very small space between us. he said that part gets to him in a way that he can't even take it. we both cried and i hugged him. he held me so tight. he said, "not only is that how i feel about reaching my authentic self, that's how i feel when i want you to know that my heart is true towards you, just as yours is true towards me. i need you to know that." 

i cried. again. later that night as i took the rock out of my purse to put on my nightstand, i held it, and that chorus played instantly in my head. i thought of where the rock came from. how it traveled to me.  how we are all connected. how connections exist and remain over time/space/distance. how it was half immersed in the water of that particular land. how the rock, the water, the land all encircled each other and lived peacefully as they should, totally encompassing each other ... like people immersed in others, and how i treasure that immersion like fuel to my fire.

how my heart looks like your heart. 

my cheeks were hot from tears just covering my face.  something as simple as a rock. unnoticed by most. something as simple as a song. one which wouldn't typically resonate with me.  something as simple as a moment shared between the hearts of two people.

this rock, and these words, brought together, have made such an impact on my heart. now i do keep it on my nightstand but i also bring it in my car, and i sometimes put it in my purse or even in my pocket ... i want to keep it with me everywhere i go; i like to look at it, hold it, think about it ... it has become more powerful to me than i ever would have imagined. what it represents to me is so much bigger than its physical dimensions or properties.  holding it is like connecting to this person.  to mother earth. to the planet. to the universe. to the human race. to love and light. 

all of these things pertain to people. i don't know if i have done justice to it, in explaining how symbolic this is, and for all the reasons why and how.  but all of our hearts do look the same. that in itself is its very own reason. it is the perfect antidote to hate and prejudice. a perfect reminder of our connections to each other, regardless of age, time, space, land, culture, religion, etc. 

there is so much symbolism for me in this simple rock ... the significance of this little piece of the planet ... once so far away, unbeknownst to me, and now right here in my hand, forever in my heart, and timelessly in my soul.