Post 12 - DEFECTS, WHY DO THEY BELONG TO SOMEONE ELSE?

I've been very aware recently of how easy it is to see defects in other's character, physical appearance, behavior, status, etc., but it is quite challenging to see our own defects...and then one step further - to see that our own defects are reflected in what we perceive about others. 

For instance, I had a sick child in my household recently - but a child old enough to take certain precautions against spreading germs (hand washing, use of a single bathroom, and not sharing of food and drink).  Inside my head I'm screaming "damn it, why doesn't this child realize that this behavior can expose the rest of the family...WHY can't they just be smart about it!!!"  Anger, anxiety and fear were the feelings I was harboring.  Of course, my love for this child prevented me from letting on just how disturbed I was feeling.  Instead I simply asked that they remember to wash up after using the bathroom, and asked if there was anything I could do.

The behavior continued to bother me...I kept thinking - what was wrong with this child that allowed the behavior to continue without further thought or consideration for the rest of the family??    THEIR defect and inconsiderate behavior.     Then, right minded thinking set in...WHOSE defect is this really???  My head was reeling with misdirected anger....this is not the child's defect it is MINE!  This child certainly does not want to harm the family, and is not in any condition or position to have the awareness I expected.

The feelings I experienced were, in fact, a reflection of my own fear of germs and illness.  MY DEFECT!  It was my fear of getting the stomach bug myself, or of having to care for a small child with the stomach bug, causing my thoughts to be focused on that fear - instead of on loving thoughts towards my sick, suffering, child.  My brain needed to be in a care-taker mode - what can I do for this sick child?  But rather, some of the utility and love I could have provided was blocked by my own defects.  Ugh...this is sad, and actually disgusts me.  How could I be such a horrible mom?

Another example, I was at a family event recently where two families were coming together with a "get-to-know-you before the wedding" intent.  Instead of any of us mingling to achieve the intended purpose of the event, we sat in our respective family circles, ate and left the event after minimal interaction.  So where did my head go?  Well, of course, "they are very strange, they barely talk, they are snobby, they are....."   Although I spoke to one or two members of the other family, I allowed these observations of THEIR defects to guide my behavior.  I did not even consider that, likely, they were all thinking EXACTLY the same thoughts about us...and maybe worse.  What efforts did we make to mingle?  Very little.  Missed opportunities on both sides here, but considering I can only account for my own behavior....I missed the opportunity to make some connections that could have resulted in wonderful connections that may have even strengthen our own family bonds.

So  its clear that in hindsight I can recognize that I consistently miss out on wonderful opportunities by not first filtering my perception through my awareness of my own defects.  This happens to me often.  Do you too struggle, and then miss out?  How can we move beyond that behavior such that we skip the step of filtering, so that our perception is automatically created by an objective look inside, rather than a projection of our own defects on others?  How can we go forth and experience life with love as our filter instead of fear?

Post 11 - I ONCE WAS LOST...and arguably still am...

It's been months since I've written - call it lack of inspiration...motivation...or simply life happens.   I see and feel the effects of my time away from this work.  My thoughts are darker, my attitude less forgiving and my sense of well-being more vulnerable.  I find myself cultivating thoughts and ideas which I know jeopardize my joy.  I am easily reeling and spiraling into negativity.  I know this work almost instantly turns all of that around so why don't I make it a part of my daily life?  Exhaustion perhaps?  Laziness?  Lots of excuses.

Anyway, over the course of the past few months I have had several identifiable experiences that serve as inspiration to continue my work.  The first is my attendance at a seminar conducted by an organization known as EnlighteNext, a group formed to contemplate and perpetuate the teachings of Andrew Cohen.  Skeptics of the movement consider it a cult - it may be, but certainly doesn't discount the potential validity of some of the theories, at least in my mind.

From my understanding of what I've learned, the belief system is grounded in six principals, purity of motive, integrity in action, autonomy, communion, evolutionary tension and natural hierarchy.  We should recognize that we, as sophisticated, emotional and thoughtful beings, are at the cutting edge of evolution.  We are forging history each moment, together as one unit.   We, and everything we know to be true or real has evolved from a perfect state of nothingness.  Through some force or intent we came to be, and from that point we continue to develop, out of that nothingness as history is written.  Each of us play an integral role in that evolutionary process.  Our individual lives are small as compared to the greater purpose of evolution.

I equate some of the teachings to the writings of Marianne Williamson.  The goal being to attain purity of thought and motivation so that we can recognize our oneness with the earth and all of its parts, pieces and inhabitants. The next step is to consistently apply that state of mind in our everyday lives so that we can maximize our contribution to the evolutionary process during our lifetime.  This requires us to overcome our egotistical tendencies, which proves to be my most difficult hurdle.  Ego is so strong...self-preservation seems such a natural and necessary way of life.  It is counter intuitive to think that we need to let go and surrender in order to experience enlightenment, but that is a truth that may deserve a capital "T". 

I fail at surrender all the time.  Does that make me a failure?  Is there no hope for me to succeed in my quest for more Truth and spritual enlightenment?  Am I a hack seeker without true intent?

Post 10 - ONE YEAR AGO

It was a year ago yesterday that Dad passed.  I am surprised at the intensity of emotion I still feel today.  The visions of seeing him struggle through his last few months stayed with me in vivid images flashing through my mind daily for most of the year.  Lots of tears shed, sleepless nights, fears, regrets and questions that remain unanswered.  It was only in the past month or so where my thoughts of Dad had transformed more to fonder memories...of vacationing, picnics, swimming, watching TV, riding on his shoulders, fishing, etc.

I knew it was coming, as the calendar grew closer and closer to February 25th, I began thinking of the experiences we all shared with Dad at the end of his life, and tried to prepare myself for the culmination of emotion that might come on the first anniversary of his passing.   It began with thoughts of seeing him in Hersey after his surgery, his missing eye covered by bandages, the tracheostomy, feeding tube, suction, medications, but mostly his extreme discomfort.  Izzy was just a few weeks old.  Then, the short stay at home and admission to St. Lukes, where we almost lost him due to a displaced trach.  Next to Good Shepherd for rehabilitation and then home again.  The discussions along the way were not about losing him, but about treating the cancer, radiation, and having him fitted for a prosthetic palate so he could eat again.  Did we know what his eventual future held at this point, probably yes, but at least I know I was hopeful.  Some might say I was in denial.  Then came his last admission to Lehigh Valley Hospital, his confusion and then his final diagnosis of brain cancer. 

I can recount the details of his room in the ICU, when his oncologist spoke to all of us, telling us that the cancer had spread to his brain and there wasn't much more they could do.  I can see Dad's face, a single tear running down his cheek, and his declaration that "I am done...no more."  The discussions then followed, with Dad's initial request to go home to die.  Mom was fearful and honest about her inability to care for him at home in his last days.  We all wanted to make it happen, but realized that it may be too much for all of us.  Being a new mom of an infant, I was certainly not in a position to provide much assistance to my family in caring for him at home.  Dad was experiencing fleeting moments of clarity, shadowed by varying states of disorientation.  With further discussion, Dad told us that he would like to do what we all were comfortable with.  To this day, I know many of us, including me, regret deeply not bringing him home, but it is done, and he is gone. 

After the decision was made to move him to the Hospice unit to await death, I sat by his side and held his hand.  I can feel his warm, and still strong, hand squeeze mine as I asked him "Dad, are you scared?" I can see him look at me, and with warmth and confidence, he whispered "No." 

The move to Hospice happened quickly. It was a familiar place, the same location my paternal grandparents both passed in. How fitting, for the lives of a mother, father and son to end in the same place.   As I got off the elevator and entered the unit the memories of my Grandmother's passing quickly came rushing back.  I walked down the hall to what was her room.  There was nobody there.  I entered and stared at the bed.  I remembered sitting in that very room alone with her, reading to her, holding her hand, stroking her hair.  I remembered her breathing patterns as she neared the end.  I closed my eyes and saw her take her last breath.  It was as if time stood still and I was back in the same place.  It seemed like a dream (or a nightmare) to be there again, and this time to say goodbye to her son...my Dad.  I spoke to her in a whisper that day and told her Dad was coming...I asked her to help him go to her peacefully and quickly, and to watch over all of us as we prepared for his death.

I spent as much time at the hospital, and then at Hospice as I could.  Izzy was 2 months old - I remember going in and out of the ICU, and camping out in the family room of the Hospice unit - Sometimes my husband would be in the waiting room or walking the halls with her.  I nursed her in the waiting room, and pass her around to grieving family members.  She slept in a little portable bed next to Dad.  There were a few times when he was awake and alert, and he touched her, waved to her and smiled.  I know he knew she was there...that we all were there.  I can only hope that her presence gave him the same peace and comfort that it did for the rest of us.  What an amazing respite and source of joy she was for all of us during this time.  I am thankful that Dad got to meet her.  I recognize the timing of her birth as a blessing - God's way of sending Light and comfort to us all during a tremendously painful and trying time.

The more time that passed, the more excruciating the experience became for all of us. Is Dad in pain?  Does Dad want us to touch him?  Does he want us to talk to him?  Does he want music?  Does he want us in the room with him all the time?  Can he hear us?   We all spoke to him privately to say goodbye.  I waited for days before I took my turn, not knowing what to say.  How do you speak to someone who is facing death?  What are the right words to say?  What if I say the wrong thing and he passes thinking that I am mad at him?  What if I don't say enough, or he perceives my words negatively?  What if he takes his last breath and leaves this world thinking his daughter didn't love him?  I felt tremendous guilt for having not spent enough time with him, and not being as emotionally close to him as I should have been in my adult years.  Do I tell him that?  Do I tell him that I am sorry?  Our conversation was difficult and filled with tears.  I whispered to him, he opened his eye and looked at me, he squeezed my hand, and we both cried.  I told him that I loved him, and that I was sorry that I didn't spend more time with him, that I was sorry for all that he went through in the past few months, that he was a great father, and that I would miss him dearly.  I asked him to give Grandma a hug for me and to watch over Izzy as she grew, and the rest of us.  Then I kissed him on the forehead and wiped his tears.  The finality of this gesture was impossible to bear.  Today I can think of many things I should have said...but its too late, that was it, my last words to my Dad.  There is no way to go back.

It happened on a Friday, after days and days of sitting vigil by his side, seemingly all of us staring at him and waiting.  I had to work that day, but left the office as soon as I could to get back to his bedside.  I was driving home when I got the call from my sister, "You should come now...its time."  I got there as quickly as I could, my husband and Izzy in tow.  The scenario plays in my mind in slow motion, off the elevator, teary family members filling the hallways, escorted by my sister to his room where everyone gathered...hugged my mom and then, almost instantly, his final breath.  It was like he waited and knew we all were finally there at that moment and he could go.  My mom kneeled by his bedside sobbing, I rubbed her back and put my hand on his leg...his body was cold and hard...lifeless...he was gone.  My Dad was dead.

The days that followed, the funeral arrangements, seeing him in the casket, the church...all still fresh in my mind.  He was too young, 68 years old, and I was too young to lose my father.  The horror that he endured at the end of his life was unimaginable to me before these events unfolded.  I question the judgment of the surgeon who took half of his face.  I question the care he received while in the hospitals. I regret not being able to help my family more during the ordeal.  I regret not being able to grant him his wish to die at home.  I regret that I had only 38 years with my Dad, and that I failed to cherish those years appropriately.  I regret that I may not have been the best Daughter that I could have been.  What did my Dad do to deserve such a fate?  I couldn't at the time, and still can't today, reconcile why it all happened.   What I do know is that my Dad was incredibly courageous through the entire ordeal.   I love him, miss him terribly, and will strive as often as I can to replace the traumatic visions of the end of his life, my questions, fears and regret with warm and wonderful memories of him smiling, happy and healthy.

Post 9 - HO, HO, HO...HERE WE GO

The days of another holiday season are quickly melting away.  For me it begins with Black Friday and ends January 2nd.  For those 38 days I am consumed with planning, gift buying, scrambling to see family and friends, baking, cooking, decorating and craft making.  On top of the holiday activity there are also significant anniversaries and birthdays.  Lots of energy, time and money spent thinking about and executing creative holiday and celebratory moments.  I wake and retire each day with thoughts and ideas.  My mind races with my perceptions of others expectations, wants and needs.  Moreover, I strive to think beyond to achieving the element of surprise and elation.  How will my gifts be received?  Will I succeed in my goal of creating happiness for my family and friends?

If I could only stop the holiday train and get off for just a moment I might see something truly amazing.  A gift that requires no driving, line sitting or credit cards.  A gift that is available to all no matter what age, financial means or belief system.  A gift truly from the heart and filled with Love.  Perhaps if I took a moment I could see that the best gift I could give is the gift of me. 

In my haste to buy the perfect gift, plan the perfect event, create the perfect holiday experience for my family I forget that it is me, my presence, my attention, my Love that my family really craves.  So if I'm spending 38 days running here, there and everywhere physically, mentally and emotionally trying to make this holiday season perfect and memorable, but I lose sight of the ultimate gift I have to give then are all of those efforts for naught?

Certainly my family celebrates Christmas, birthdays and anniversaries with presents, events, family gatherings and all of the things I think about daily during this time of year...those things create tradition, lasting memories and add value to all of our lives.  Do I have the wherewithal to give my family and friends both?  Can I give all of myself and also give the tradition? 

I am not sure I can answer that objectively.  Surely I can replay the past few days and the events of this holiday season to date and present them with a positive perspective to confirm that I, indeed, am capable of achieving it all.  After all, that is really how I see it.  But it's not about what I see or feel.  It's about how I am perceived by my family and friends.  Do they feel my presence physically and mentally, or do they see only the stress that sometimes weighs on my being, and the malaise I described in previous posts?  Do they see joy emanating from my actions, or do they see me rushing and forcing my way through holiday tasks?  Questions worth asking them and answers worth considering each and every year as I find myself caught up in the hustle bustle of this season.

Post 8 - THE FORCES OF REALITY

I am, for the most part, a believer in logic, reason and science.  It only makes sense (to me) that every being on earth and beyond came into existence as a result of some sort of scientific evolutionary process.  Molecules exist as a reaction to some event.  They come together in varying states to form living and non-living things.  Molecules co-exist and react with and because of each other. 

However, all that being true (at least in my perception), there are also things I find unexplainable through scientific analysis.  I have seen evidence of what I would consider mystical happenings and miraculous changes in fate.  I have spent time in prayer and had my prayers answered.  I have personally had experiences that suggest there is more than science contributing to our experiences and the occurrence of events.  I believe I have witnessed specific evidence of non-scientific forces at work.

The best example I have of this is the events of my dad's illness and eventual passing last year.  He was diagnosed with sinus and later brain cancer, underwent numerous and radical surgeries and hospitalizations during the three months he suffered with the disease.   During one of the hospitalizations he coded and required emergency resuscitation due to a problem with his tracheotomy.  Luckily the doctors brought him back.  After recovering from the ordeal, he conveyed details of a vision where he floated throughout the hospital.  He provided a description of the waiting room, which he had never been in, and named everyone he knew who was in that room or elsewhere in the hospital while he was gone.  The facts he provided could not have come from his own recollection or knowledge.  How can that be explained by science?

As my dad's condition worsened, and he was in his last moments, all of his loved ones came to his bedside.  I had to work that day so I was delayed in arriving to the hospital.  When I arrived my sister directed me to the room, indicating that there wasn't much time left.  I entered the room, filled with extended family and friends, hugged my mom...and just as I did that we all witnessed my dad take his last and final breath.  You can call it a coincidence, but I don't believe that...I believe my dad, once again, was present in that room in another form and willed his body to hold on until all of us were there.  Nobody can explain medically how a body can survive when it should otherwise have expired...except to say that there is a force driving the process which is removed from scientific explanation. 

I suppose it can be said that all of this is simply my perception of reality, and that my specific, molecular and physiological make-up causes chemical reactions that dictate this interpretation of my experiences.  Believers of this explanation would extend that theory to my dad's near-death experience.


How do any of us really KNOW the truth about what is driving our individual and collective experiences?  I don't think this is something that any of us are meant to know.  Perhaps the answer is not a definitive answer at all, but rather a continuum of multi-dimensional thoughts and possibilities.   

Post 7 - THIS NOISE IS DEAFENING

For the past week I have been feeling off and haven't quite been able to put my finger on what is causing it, or exactly what the feeling is.  I just know that I feel flat, unable to focus and disinterested in things that normally would bring me joy.  Is it money worries, relationship woes, my job, missing my dad who passed away, stress of the holidays and upcoming events?  One of those things alone could cause this feeling, but I can't say that it's truly any of those things or a combination of them.  Am I suffering from some sort of depression?  Perhaps.

Finally this morning it hit me...NOISE...there is so much noise in my life.  I'm not speaking only of audible noise, but also noise in my head.  I feel like I am at a heavy metal concert every waking hour.  My thoughts consist of short bursts of must dos, schedules, and should do more of.  At any given moment my brain is holding all of the information that allows me to function as a mom, as a wife, as a professional woman and as an individual.  The details of those roles are vast.  On top of what's going on in my head, physically I hear my husband and kids making verbal demands, the dogs barking, the baby crying, music...I see a messy house, a disastrous yard, a disorganized office, mounting debt...I  am on overload. 

I've begun to forget simple things - words, names, numbers, grocery items, where my keys are.  This week I drove to work forgetting that the baby was sleeping in the back of the car.  Luckily I remembered while I was en route.  It's scary and I feel as if I'm losing my mind...losing the edge and wit I once had.  I find it hard to concentrate and focus at work.  I feel dazed most of the time.  Is there something wrong with me, or is it just the noise?   What am I doing wrong and why can't I manage the noise?  It's not unlike noise I've encountered before in my life.  Others are able to function under graver circumstances.  Or are they?   Maybe other people just don't complain as much about it, or deny it's there, or maybe other people are better able to quiet the noise.     

I know this didn't happen due to lack of attention to my spiritual self, which I find sometimes to be the culprit for bad feelings.  In fact, I've been studying Evolutionary Enlightenment by Andrew Cohen and War of the Worldviews:  Science vs. Spirituality by  Deepak Chopra and Leonard Mlodinow.  Some very interesting perspectives in both of those books.  I feel connected to concepts from all three of these visionaries. 

Cohen speaks directly to what I am currently experiencing in that he explains how we can use meditation to quiet noise and attain a state of awareness void of time, void of noise and void of everything.  He describes this as a state of nothingness, but blissful nothingness.  I am drawn to the possibility of experiencing that state, but intimidated by the art of meditation.  I attempt meditation during the few opportunities I have to attend Quaker meeting on a Sunday morning.  There have been those instances where I feel I transcended the physical world sitting in the meetinghouse and lost time, lost myself in nothingness, but those were only very brief flashes.  I can also recall this experience during Savasana at the end of Yoga, but again very brief.  My noise always interrupts and pulls me back. 

During a conversation with a close friend one day, she described the phenomenon Cohen explains.  She told me that she spends hours hiking in the woods near her home.  While hiking she is able to attain this state of consciousness where time melts away and she feels a perfect joy.  Just speaking of the experience lightens up her face and she shines from the inside out.  She is almost brought to tears simply sharing the experience.  I didn't really appreciate the gift she was giving me at the time I had the conversation with her, but after reading Cohen I now know how incredibly fortunate she is to have achieved such perfect meditation.  I am now in awe of her gift. 

So I'm thinking that one way I could attempt to quiet the noise is to practice meditation.  But when, where, how?  My house is chaos...I have no time to myself...what if I fail?  What if I can't meditate and just frustrate myself further?  I need to resolve these fears and try it...

Post 6 - FOLLOW, FOLLOW, FOLLOW, FOLLOW, FOLLOW MY EGO NO MORE

The biggest revelation I have made through my studies is that my perception of the world is NOT the same as those with whom I interact.  The way I interpret a scenario is based on many factors, including my past experiences, my personality, my fears and insecurities, my senses, etc.  Moreover, the way I view everything I encounter is likely to be a reflection of some part of myself.  What I had previously believed to be reality, I now understand is not reality at all, but only my impression of it.

My Ego uses this perception to shape my reaction to whatever I may be experiencing.  It leads me to have a self-centered view on the world.   When left unchecked, my Ego can convince me that I need to take a selfish stance in every situation order to protect my well being.  If I don't I will be a victim and succumb to the hurt that others may inflict on me.  My Ego leads me away from Love and into a place of distrust, solitude and negativity.  It will project past negative experiences into the present and seek to replicate those negative experiences - usually finding something to validate its mission. 

For instance, my husband might say to me "maybe you could have handled that conversation with your daughter a little better."  Instead of seeing this as an opportunity to learn something, my initial reaction (whether I think it or actually say it) is likely to be:  "No I couldn't have...I said it that way because...".  My Ego compels this reaction and dictates that I am right and must defend myself.   My Ego doesn't stop there, it then goes on to attack my husband - having me believe that my husband is at fault for having the gall to say such a thing to me. How dare he judge my interactions with my daughter!  Unfortunately a topic as simple as this can invoke such defensive emotion and anger inside of me that I could be mad at him for days.

But if I only took the time to look deeper into my reaction, and step back and see that my defensiveness on the topic of parenting may stem from many factors having nothing to do with that particular conversation with my daughter.  It may have been a result of a subconscious fear that I am not a good parent.  It may also come from past experiences where my behavior has been scrutinized and I have been harshly judged.  It may come from some place even darker.

From my husband's perspective, which is removed from all of my Ego based justification, he made the statement out of Love, not only for me but for my daughter as well.  He wants to help both of us with this issue and to foster a deeper relationship with me and between my daughter and I.  He can't possibly know the darkness that my Ego brings to the situation.  So from his perspective, he was only trying to help and now has a wife that isn't speaking to him.

Seems so easy to see where I made the mistake - right?  I could have chosen to view my husbands intentions with Love, but I chose to blame him instead.  I could have had an intimate, warm and wonderful conversation with my husband during which I may have learned something, but instead I chose a path that led us away from Love and into anger and resentment.  All because of factors that had nothing to do with my husband or the conversation.

In another scenario - a mom in the park viciously admonishing her child, grabbing his arm and seemingly overreacting because he was running away from her.   My first reaction to that mom's behavior might be to judge her for being so harsh with her child.  I might think to myself that she doesn't have the patience or tolerance to be a mom - that she is missing the joy of watching her son be so care-free.  I might even label her in my mind as a bad mom  The next moment, when I saw the mom on her knees hugging the child with tears running down her face I'm sure my assessment of the situation would be vastly different, and I would feel like an ass for even having those thoughts. 

How could I have known that the woman had a pet who was hit by a car the week before?  How could I have known that she had reacted with fear that she might lose her child as well?  I couldn't have known those things, but I could have perceived the situation with Love instead of with Ego driven thoughts.  I could have approached that situation from the beginning with compassion and sympathy, and perhaps even offered to help.  I could have used Love to brighten some one's day. 

I know all of this to be true about my Ego.  I know that although it appears I need to use Ego based thought to navigate safely through life, following it can have consequences far worse than had I applied Love.   Seems like a no-brainer, but I know that my Ego is strong and it is tricky and manipulative.  At times I can believe I am using Love, but in reality it is just my Ego's reaction disguised.  My Ego is also faster on the draw than Love at times.  It arrives on the scene and sets the path way before I am able to even contemplate the application of Love.  Is it just an inherent flaw in my personality that causes Ego driven thoughts to take hold first, or does it happen to everyone?  It can't happen to everyone - I know people who ALWAYS react with Love and compassion - or do they?  Maybe that is just my perception...maybe if I was in their head I would see a different picture...