Tag Archives: light

The Man on the Road

Courage only exists to dismantle fear.  If there is nothing to fear, we do not need courage.  But we do fear, and so we ask for what we need temporarily to show us we were wrong.

This is a story of a man walking down a road.

A man is walking down a road he has never been. It is dark.  He will likely stop for directions, if a house is lit, or he will rely on himself, or perhaps a flashlight.  Some things may jump out at him.

It is not comforting to stay in the dark, so he may seek out internal guidance, to ask which way to go.  He may be told to stop, or turn left or right.

If he keeps going the same way he will experience more fear because he didn’t listen and now is very much alone. He has no idea where he is going, and every noise bothers him. He has nothing to judge it against other than it is “not me” and so it is very scary. Even a bird in a tree will make him jump.

But if he sits down for a moment and asks, he will do one of two things:  He will either get up and leave and run fast back from where he came, trying to go where it is safe and known, or he will be told something new he hadn’t thought of.  This will be like a door appearing out of nowhere, something specific he can do, or something that leads him somewhere real and new.

"Open Wide Your Heart" website Mark Mallett

If he goes through the door, and feels the light of it (though he still may feel fear), he will make it to the other side and all will appear lit and new.  It will be as if the path he was on disappeared or transformed, or it suddenly made sense to him for the first time.  Also, there will be a hand, and he will not be alone.

What was scary before now seems just foolish and silly, something a child does when he is alone and protecting himself from the dark.

But now that he sees the door, and the path and the hand, all lit like never before – he has no choice but to step through or play the fool.

If he retreats back into the dark, it will likely not be as scary this time, it will just feel as if he is wasting his time.  He will now be more impatient with himself for not grabbing onto that hand and lifting himself out.  He may even shout profanities. Or he may even fall on his knees.

This is all silly and sad because there is no need to complicate things. It is only because he thinks he knows already that he won’t ask and receive.

For a moment, he has to admit, “Clearly, I don’t!”

So he asks again.

This time the door appears and light floods him.  It startles him a second time and he may experience fear because now he wants to be on top of it, to understand it.  It appears like he can command it, and yet he doesn’t know how it got there. But it is.  If he can’t control how this happens, how can he control what it does?

This frightens him even more, because now the implications of this light that comes is mind-boggling.  If he can’t predict what it does or where it might take him, he must shut it down.  It is too scary to comprehend.

The light seems to go on and off again as the man challenges God for a second or third round.  There is no end to the light, but he is growing very tired.  It is tiring to put up this front.

Then a wise man comes.  He is holding a lantern in his hand and standing on the road. He asks the tired man where he is going.  The man admits, “I don’t know.”  The tired man tries to explain himself but the more he tries to explain, the more he realizes it makes no sense and gives up.

The wise man laughs.

The wise man is real to him. He comforts the man. Offers a hand , but the confused man is still clinging to the dark.

The wise man tells him stories of another place, and the tired man says, “Oh, I know! I’ve been there once or twice.”

The wise man asks, “Then why did you come back?”

“Because I was looking for myself.”

The wise man responds, “Oh, I know. But did you realize you are going in circles and you’ve been this way before?”

“It couldn’t be!” The man protests, “I couldn’t see, and it all seemed new and frightening to me.”

“That’s funny,” the wise man said. “That bird’s been yelling at you since round three. When are you going to listen to him?”

“I didn’t realize he was talking to me. I couldn’t see!”

“And what are all these supplies on your back?” the wise man pointed and the other man sat back on a rock.

“Oh, I was hungry so I brought enough to eat for three weeks. And a knife and other camping supplies just in case, to protect myself so I could eat and sleep.”

“Have you slept?” the wise man asked, pulling the lantern up to his face.

“Not really.”

“Did you not notice that innkeeper at mile one waving at you to stop and eat?”

“I thought he was a thief and so I ran into the trees.”

The wise man just shook his head and let the silence speak for itself.

The tired man stood up, and the wise man asked him directly,

“Now, are you ready to come with me?”

Still, the man shrunk back, unbelievably, and dug his heels into the path.

“Really?” the wise man asked, “You don’t trust me?”

“How do I know you are not a thief, too?”

The wise man set his lantern down. And then he said,

“Here, take it. And go your way. Take as long as you need. But the light may not last long, and it is very dark indeed.”

“I’ll take my chances” the other man said and took his leave.

The man went on his way and thought about what the wise man said, and the bird, and the trees, and noticed the lantern was not as bright as it should have been. And he wondered if the wise man took the light with him.  But he was nowhere to be seen.

Huh! he sighed and sat for a time contemplating everything. He wondered if he would come back. Could he have been wrong about everything?  This is all not very flattering, he thought, and his shoes were beginning to leak.

Soon he wouldn’t be able to walk, he worried. Soon, he would have to crawl his way out of this giant circle. Or climb his way out! Maybe there was a wall, or was it some kind of giant trap?

Maybe this was a test of strength and he could still succeed. He decided to himself, “I will keep going at any cost. I will not give up even if this tiny light goes out. And I’ll have no thanks to give that man, either. I’ll show him.”

“And maybe”, he thought, “the wise man will even be proud of me. Or maybe there was somebody else on this path. They would come soon.”

But nobody came. Not for a long, long time.  And the man thought God was punishing him, and wasting his time. “Clearly, I am a miserable sinner!” he exclaimed, “and there is no hope for me!”

Where did this come from? Grief had suddenly stricken him and he bent up on the ground.

He cried it out and gnashed his teeth and cried out even more. Angry fists pounded the air and his stomach growled.

But who is listening? Who cares now? The bird was silent, and the man, the friend, nowhere to be found.

This isn’t how it was supposed to be! he thought. He remembered when the light had come how it filled him with dance and song. But he didn’t know if it would last so he returned quickly and came back around. Now there is nowhere, and nothing at all.

“Clearly, clearly I was wrong!” he cried out one last time.

The trees moved and a bird suddenly flew out and landed on his nose.  He startled and jumped, struck the air and then stopped and waited for a sound.

“Are you ready now?” he heard.

The light had come.  He awoke with a start to the sound of music, and people laughing and and singing.  He was under a blanket as if asleep, but just steps from a door slightly ajar. The light filled the room as he cracked the door open even more.

A giant room opened up to his sight and was filled with good cheer. Women laughing and dancing, children playing and running about, men eating and talking and whistling on the way in and out.  Like a circus or parade.  He stood dumfounded and rubbed his eyes.  He could not believe nor remember how he got there. No one had come for him, just that silly bird.

Then he remembered.

Up on the mantle he saw it. The lantern. Now with a glowing wick, and more lights glowing everywhere in the room. It looked like daylight though clearly he had been in the dark before.

He stepped forward and a woman ran over to him.

“Come!” she said. “We’ve been waiting for you.”  A giant bowl of soup she dished out with a ladle and gave him a spoon. The steam and smell reached his nose and lips.

He was sure this was heaven. And the man was still nowhere to be found.

The woman hovered round him again, “Darling, we were worried about you! You’d lost your way or your light had gone out.” She pointed to the mantle.

“But there was a man with me before, he would have come back. Did he?”

“What man, darling? This is where you live. Don’t you remember?  You set out to find something , but got lost in the woods. This bird found you, but now it is dead.”  She pointed to a bird that was now limp in a pale. The man turned white.

A bird found him? She must be crazy, or he is. How could this be? Oh! The bird, I killed it! He thought.

“No, there was a man on the road who was helping me, he gave me that lantern, but I didn’t believe him and then I took it and went on my own. I  never saw him again. Oh!” he cried again.

“Darling, this light is yours. You must have lost it in the night, or dropped it, and then found it again.  Clearly it is yours – your initials are at the bottom of it, see?”  He looked and saw the initials scrolled beneath the base. He didn’t recognize them or himself.

“But I told him to go away!  I wouldn’t listen to him, or myself, or that bird, or anyone!” He was delirious.  “I saw him, he was so real. And then he was gone.”

The man fell into despair.

“Darling,” she said again and wiped away his hair.  “That man is right here in front of me.  I see him as clear as day to night. You are here, my sweet. You are here!”

He wouldn’t believe her. How could this be?  An apparition came? That wise man was me?

She gave him some water and sent him back to bed. Clearly, he couldn’t see himself. She would love him back to health.

As the man returned to bed and accepted a gentle kiss from his wife, he stirred a bit and then had a gentle dream.

The sky poured open and the bird flew high overhead. It flew in circles round his head until it swooped down and then up and then disappeared into the heavens.

He was troubled then. Is that bird me, too? Or is someone trying to tell me something? Who is it that I am seeking? Where is it that I am glad and known?  My dear wife seems to know me, but who am I, really?  Please show me again, he thought.

Suddenly he felt a gentle tug in his head and a light he thought he had forgot filled him from head to toe.  He saw the bird again, resting on the hand of the man with the lantern.  He reached out to touch the wise man, and this time they clasped hands and stood directly in front of each other and smiled. He didn’t know who this was, but he was willing now.

Soon he found himself like the man with the lantern, walking in a miraculous field of golden lilies and birds of every colour flying overhead.  The trees were whispering to him and he was listening.  His heart was glad. There was no promise in him of tomorrow, and no plan of attack.  He just was, there, everywhere and everything. Resting in the universe of things.

The light was so strong but there was nothing to hold onto anymore, no lantern, no day or night. Everything was just shimmering and live in him. His heart was filled to bursting and he was not ready to come back down.  But something in him felt a presence all around him and a serene silence spoke to him that he could never speak of.  It was so great.

Do you see, now? 

Now go back, your wife needs you.

The man, if he could be, was dumfounded . How could I ever leave you, this place? This magnitude!

He grew momentarily upset.

The light is in you. Take it with you this time and don’t ever let it go.

“The lantern?”  The man asked, confused.

No. You.

Then he knew. When it is dark, ask the light to shine in You.

And then he laughed, because he heard to himself:

And the next time you meet yourself, say hello.

The man laughed and cried in gratitude and then he awoke.

He shook with happiness in his bed at what he had seen, heard and felt. Then he noticed his wife was in bed sleeping with him.  He curled up beside her and pulled his arms around her and drew her in closer. And then he slept for a long, long time.

And he never, ever walked alone.

 

Amen.

 

 

– by  Krista Moore

 

Miracles of Hope

We begin our walk together this summer by inviting in miracles.  As usual, we begin where we are.  Whether that is in the light or in the dark, we begin with hope. For a new journey calls to us, and asks us to be more.  Whether we are bright or dimly lit, we are enough right now. 

But still we ask for more….

meditation candle

Why?  Because there is always more within us if we can stand to let it in.  And if we invite it in, we just might surprise ourselves, or someone else.  We just might realize that not only is our hope candle lit, but we have lit the flame for someone else.

Your spark is important. The world cannot go without it. 

There is a pattern we cannot see that is much greater.  Your spark lights the candle next to you, and the next, and the next…

If your candle is not lit, what will happen to those who came near you, who were counting on you for that little spark they needed to start their day?

We never know whose candle we are lighting, when we choose to stay lit.  We never know whose life we will transform when we choose to transform ourselves back to the beginning of what we are, which is light. 

How will you stay lit today? What will you ask for?

I ask to hold a candle to you today.  That my spark might be enough to rise you up out of darkness or insecurity, worry or fear, pain or sorrow. I have felt all of these things. I know what it means to be in the dark. And I know profoundly what it  means to call in the light.

It is there for you.  Call it.  Ask.

A Spark of Hope lights the way.

And in it, we are safe. We are open. We are saved.

Amen.

 

 

 

 

Add Your Light to the World! Video

November 2012 – Krista talks with Tash Jefferies about “Empowerment” and “Shining Your Light in the World”.  Spreecast Video interview with live guests – FREE REPLAY BELOW:  (Sorry, Spreecast lost the video!)

 

Miracle 15: “Coming Out of the God Closet”

“Open Wide Your Heart” website Mark Mallett

I’ve been a seeker my whole life.  I was never raised in a religious family.  I always had the freedom to think for myself. I was not baptized until I was 21, and that was by choice, and as my mother said, more emotional than my actual wedding the week before.

I don’t know what possessed me to be so vigilant in my faith. Perhaps I was needy, or broken. But somehow I don’t see it that way.

When I was 10 we had moved from a small town in Elmira to the “big city” of Kitchener, Ontario. I had lost my best friend, she had moved away (we still sent each other songs on tape recorder and sweet notes between “Nina” and “Nimby”, but I digress).  I had to start over, make new friends, deal with the “girl troubles” of getting along, getting picked on.

That Christmas I wrote a list of the top 10 things Christmas meant to me (I know it’s July but bear with me).  At the top of the list I wrote “Christ’s birthday”. Even my mother was surprised. I’m the kind of kid that broke into the presents at 2 o’clock in the morning with a steam kettle to take a peak at what was coming in the morning.  We rarely went to church, and certainly not on Christmas morning. I’m not sure where my religious fervor came from.

Later, after my first marriage fell apart, I found myself slipping away between breastfeeding my baby. I left him with my husband for an hour and went down to the village.  There was some kind of revival in the park, a man on a speaker saying “If you keep playing the same old records, your life will always be the same.  You have to change the record you are listening to.” And then he proceeded to invite others up to be saved.  Something moved my feet up to the front in my bewilderment. I could have gone shopping but instead I was here.  He sent me to the back where I was put in a tiny circle where one of the faith leaders proceeded to speak in tongues and I felt a swirl of energy as I held hands.  When I broke away, my life was never the same.

Six months later, I had left that tiny village, my first marriage, and the life I had been living.  I had asked for help, and it came in the form I needed at the time.  I listened to tapes in the car by Marianne Williamson, “A Return to Love” and began to be interested in A Course in Miracles. But I was not ready for that.

It took 10 more years before I finally picked up the book for myself.  That was after the death of my father-in-law, whose death I witnessed first-hand as he died in our arms. His peaceful transition, and my vigilant care and spiritual fervor, made it one of the most meaningful times of my life.  We witnessed for three months his calm in facing death, and on the last night, lying peacefully in bed here at home, without the oxygen mask that had been keeping him alive, he whispered with such intensity, “Wh-i-t-e  W-a-a-alll”  “Whiiite  Waaallll…” as he reached out and joined hands with his long-passed wife and best friend who died the year before. He described what he could, then drifted into a peaceful sleep. I believe in what he saw and experienced as a gift to us, just as Elizabeth Kübler Ross, Swiss-American psychiatrist and author or “On Death and Dying” believed in what she witnessed in hundreds of patients who had near-death experiences.

But I don’t have to nearly die to believe. There is something in me that knows.  I could always see things in my room when I was a kid and had many lucid dreams. Symbols would appear in the air before me that I could understand and relate to.  Lake a grape-vine embossed pen, meaning “Write”.  Or animals or angels resting on my window.

A couple of nights ago my daughter said she saw a light flash beside her bed, and then on the other side too. Her blinds were closed and nothing was happening in the hall to warrant that.  I had been told recently by one who senses spirits that a man with crazy eyebrows hunched over a bit and white grey hair was near me. That was Jack. My father-in-law who passed, my daughter’s grandfather.  I was convinced he had come to visit her too. And perhaps her grandmother, whom she never met.

In a recent interview with Tina Games, she revealed that she saw orbs of light after her mother died, and that these orbs would visit her and communicate with her, giving her a sense of peace that took all fear of death away from her. No one could understand why she was not grieving the traditional way.  It transformed her life.

Most people believe in something, but for the last five years, I have felt a strong presence to communicate what comes through me in times of lucidity and clarity. People who are in my circles, or whom I have interviewed with have witnessed this sudden light-filled clarity that comes through my words when I speak with authenticity and uncensored vigor. I can feel my crown chakra light up, and others feel the “tingles” too.

I feel lucky to be given this ability. I will no longer waste time in on worrying that other people will think I’m crazy, or some kind of Bible-thumper. I’m not.  Mentioning the name Jesus doesn’t mean I believe everything that has been told or manipulated by the church for power through the ages. I believe he was an enlightened being – the highest of the high. A beloved brother, friend, leader of the Light. But his message was, “These things and more shall you do.” He never intended for us to worship him, but to rise to his greatness. To join him as equal “Sons of God”.  To be One again.

We are all children of God, Christ, Loved, Whole. We come from the same place, and will return again.

This is my story – at least a glimpse. Maybe I will write more.  Maybe I’ll write a book.  But I couldn’t wait to tell you who I am. I couldn’t hide out any longer couching my words. Those who stand with me, stand with me. I am unafraid.

 

Here is a poem I wrote the other day which clearly shows my struggle and breakthrough:

 

October Light by David Simons

“Desert Prayer”

 

I feel nervous

What if I can’t get into the flow?

What if I don’t know?

What if nothing comes to me and it is late past the hour?

Expectation bleeds into

Surprise. Numbness. Falling

Asleep. Getting it over with.

Or breaking through. All

Possible but still, I have to decide.

 

What is the miracle if

It doesn’t come through?

What mocking stillness will

Humble me and help me break

Down the barrier to your

Words, your eyes.

 

I want to express your greatness, your

Gratitude – no, your

Tenderness, humility,

Anonymity? Why does it

Have to be important, mighty?

I ramble on and on stalling

While my heart beats

A vacant heat

Across my chest. Will

My heart open or my mind

Lay awake – insomnia.

Anything is possible. Again

I must decide.

 

Oh, what the hell!

What do I have to hide?

Turn on the water,

Clasp the end of nozzle and spray yourself

All over.

Drink! or bury yourself alive.

 

Who is on the other side?

Who will be in need, quenched by my words, thrive?

Who will I save by

Letting my mind lay

Down and my Spirit fly?

Who will hear my words

And know they are alive?

 

Dear God, let it be me, who hears, who listens,

Who saves, who thrives, and all those

Who come with me.

Let me be healed along with those

I am afraid of.

Let them know me –

And let the stars open,

The night come, the

Heart of my heart

Come alive. A smile

Lay me down in sweet

Surrender, fully fed, kept,

Alive.

 

 

 

This has been part of Krista’s “30 Days of Miracles” series. If you would like to join her, write to her here.

LISTEN: A Radiant Beam of Light

Listen in to a conversation between Krista Moore and Tash Jefferies, creator of Green Minutes Canada as they open to the light and let it pour through. Electric!

Listen to internet radio with Green Minutes Canada on Blog Talk Radio

Lightning by Matt McGee

The Miracle of Letting Go

Krista in Del Mar

I can’t  plan this. Some academics spend eons planning, researching, writing and editing their material. Forgive me my typ-os (typos?), my dangling participles, my fragments. This is the joy of creating, like a delicious soup that gets made from half-made things all thrown together into a stirling mix. Who can plan this? Who wants to?

Have you let go of planning yet?

Preparation is one thing. We all have to buy our tickets to get to where we’re going. But once we’ve prepared and shown up, our job is to let go and experience it.

Here’s what happened to me:  I met a woman in a cafe whom I have admired for a long time. We spoke briefly over the course of a year.  One day I returned to the cafe just brimming with my news, of what I was doing with Evolutionary Women, this circle of women I started in Scarborough, who wanted to connect and transform, together. I was sparkling with joy. The mists had parted, and she noticed this exuberance, this life. She wanted to know Everything, as most women do (which I adore). I told her my story. First, the five-minute version, which wasn’t enough. She was enthralled. Tell me more! I told her how I got to where I am now, what I had to give up – the trying, the “efforting” for a pre-set notion of my future. But it wasn’t working. Everything felt like a no-fly zone.  I was lost in a daydream, a maze with no door. Then I awoke. I joined several groups, sought help. I began talking, searching, writing, creating. I struggled, I fell down. I didn’t know how I was ever going to get there, this nebulous new world. I didn’t know how I was going to start all over.  I had visions, daydreams, images that would come to me, words that would flow through me all the time. I was pretty isolated then. It took time to build a support team. I became relaxed into this new way of being. My life became an editing room. I was being edited down to my finest, most crystalline form. Everything else was tertiary.

Soon, in the span of two years, my daydreams began to form. Something Inside began to show up all around me. I began to transform myself. Show up differently. There were dips and curves, valleys. Breakdowns and breakthroughs. I suffered A LOT. So did my family at times. I knew I had to change the way I was thinking about myself and my life. What I was here for. It wasn’t to glorify myself. I had to go a different way. I had to let go!

Letting go doesn’t mean having nothing, or doing  nothing. It doesn’t even mean loss necessarily, as it is so often associated with grieving.  Sure, I cried my tears in the letting go of “me”, who I thought I was. The pain of sustaining an image of myself that I couldn’t live up to (that wasn’t true). I had kept  my true thoughts well hidden. It took awhile to crawl to the surface and breathe dry air. To trust that I could tell others the truth. That I wasn’t happy the other way. I had to let go.

Letting go is New. It’s You!  It’s Why We’re Here, What We are For, It’s the deliverance you’ve been waiting for! It’s the door!  It’s Thank God I don’t have a plan anymore! Thank God I can just be me! Isn’t it fabulous, just to be me?

And then – people started noticing. People started wanting to join with me, to participate in: to listen, to speak, to share their hearts, their minds, to co-create. To begin! Suddenly I was not alone – I became swept up in a giant swell. There was something much more important at stake – my happiness and theirs, not some arbitrary future life I wanted to create – No. I wanted my Life NOW!

This is what happened when I let go:  My woman friend and I sat and had a real conversation. We lit up the room. The world closed in around us like a giant blanket. Other women listened and enthused. Possibilities and ventures sparked. We started saying Yes, I would love to do that. Let’s talk about it. Now, things are happening, and I have so much to do!

How did it all happen?? I couldn’t have planned or predicted this. I had an idea to join with other women. To  connect. I began to create something small. I thought of doing more, reaching more women. I talked and wrote about it – A LOT. Too much, in fact. But, I didn’t give up. I got positive feedback. I kept putting it out there. There were slumps and insecurities – there still are!  But this idea, this adventure, this feeling to keep going kept coming to me. I kept dreaming and sharing. And soon, when I took that terrifying step of asking someone about renting a space to hold a workshop –  THEN and only then – I heard the giant chorus of YES! chiming back at me.  Other women wanted this too. Then – did I notice: This was a good idea! It wasn’t just some “idea” in my head. Some other scheme to “get ahead.”  It wasn’t just for me anymore, it was also for them. Serendipity took over. People started approaching me for more. This was something brewing deep down in the hearts of all of us – at least the women I’ve met. And even men!

What really surprised me, when I let go and just spoke to this woman from my heart, was that she wanted to work with me one on one.  I had never done this before.  I didn’t know what I would do. How could I? How could I know what she was going to say?  To plan would have been interference.  I had to trust. I felt humbled by her trust in me, in the Presence – because that is what it was. My Presence spoke for me, on her behalf. I saw who she was, felt the tingling sensation of Yes! shouting through her – through the aches and pains of what was. I knew her.  I wanted to join with her and help her as so many had helped me. And, because I allowed that Presence to speak for me, instead of some rigid, academic plan, some psychology degree – I knew what to say and when. I had compassion. At first, it just stumbled out.  But then, as the energy moved me and I SPOKE. it just rang out!  Her eyes lit up and she said, “Wow…this is Amazing.” I felt that too. I was as amazed as she was. I felt totally connected, totally alive, totally gifted by that moment with her presence too. Our awareness grew.

It is amazing what we can do when we don’t have a plan. When we let go. It’s amazing what’s Inside of us when we just let ourselves LIVE and give others permission to do the same.

The same thing happened the other night in a workshop I was giving.  It had become more of a Circle, a quiet space of reflection and sharing. I had written reams of material, I had hundreds of exercises swirling around my head – some we had already tried which were quite invigorating, and I believe helpful. But this time was different. They had already begun without that. This time, it wasn’t “all up to me” as I had felt before, and so many women who carry that sense of responsibility very heavily. The burden of caring too much, planning too hard, frightened of the unknown. Afraid to surrender. To trust that I had enough.  That I was enough.

I sat uncomfortably in my chair at first, knowing “I Have a Plan”. Then I listened to the women open up, their stories naturally spilling out of them, the electricity of their knowing filling the room. Their intelligence, their insight, their banter. Their laughter!  Who could interfere with that? What more could I give that they didn’t already have?

I had to let go. I had already created this space for them to grow. They had already accepted, shown up.  Given themselves. All I had to do was listen and give what came to me in the moment. I offered my thoughts, my passion, which caught fire when I spoke.  I noticed when I tried too hard and stopped.  I listened to myself. I remembered what my purpose was (to give them a space to heal) and spoke from my heart instead. And then they lit up.  Because I was being true. There were still challenges and discussion. Healing moments and successes.  Opportunities for further growth. Things I could do to help in future, but waited. It was not appropriate now. There would be more time. This was only a beginning.

At the beginning of that night, in silent preparation, I had lit 9 tiny candles in the centre of the table. And as I quietly sat by and listened, my friend turned to me and said, “Nine candles. Ah….  Birthing”  She smiled. Beamed, actually. And now as I looked around at their faces, the nine women who came, we resembled the light itself.  It was our quiet sanctuary. I felt I had done something exquisite, without “doing” anything at all. I had given myself permission to just be there, and to let them as well, to have faith that we would do the right thing together. Like women who know how to give birth to something. No doctor can tell us how to do it. Nature just knows.

Women know. They understand each other. We are natural creatures. Our instincts get dampened by too much structure.  We need room to grow. That’s all. Just a room. Just a space. Just a collaborator or two.

Give yourself a little space to let go…

And let the miracle happen to You.

P.S. This is my way of surrendering. I’ve spent years thinking too much. And still do. I use to get rewarded for getting my semi-colons right. Now, all I want is You!  To be happy. To be joyful. To reach people in a new way. To let the Spirit move me! I hope it moves you too.

Amen.

3. The Death of the Ego

Inner Light

When we talk about death we often talk about the physical body. But that has been the least of my experience. Yes, I have been through death: death of a mother/father figure, death of an aunt, death of nearly all my grandparents, two dogs and a cat, not to mention the young ones on the periphery, those who I didn’t know well, but touched me still. And those in war-torn countries whom I’ve never met. I feel them all.  But death is not just that.

Death is of the ego*

In my understanding, the ego identifies with the body to separate itself and create a separate identity. It can be special, definitive and alone.  The ego is that part of ourselves that is not aligned with life. With communion. It is the part that sides only with death.

But what if death was something simpler? What if death could be embraced, not as the death of the physical body, but as the ending of a cycle? Or the end of suffering?

Like I discussed on the radio show with Cezarina Trone, death is a daily thing; a constant dance of change.

What if death could be a temporary passage to the beginning of a Life magical?

In my recent talks with women, I have learned the common story of how death wraps itself around us when change is on the horizon. We hide into our selves and think something is wrong with us, that we cannot survive, or that we are alone…

   …but death is nothing, if not a harbinger of change.

The larger part of us, that knows life, that embraces change, whether you call it God, Your Higher Self, or the Miracle, is what pulls us through to that other side of Life. Not just the “light at the end of the tunnel”, the consolatory image so often attributed to the “after-life”, but to the light of Life that exists always within us, right here and now.

Change is difficult, and surrender of the ego is harder. The ego wants us to cling to our old ways, to other people’s visions of us, to the bonds that tie us tightly to one another, to our old identities, and to conflicts  between disparate personalities/groups/countries.

But I have seen another light within me, within all of us, that holds us in balance at the worst possible pronouncement of death calling for us to crumble. No! we say from somewhere inside. NO! I will not pass away, not unto death, but to Life! To Freedom! To the Strength I didn’t know I had.

This death is harder – more contemporary. It is the death of what you once were, your illusions about your self. About what life is for.  And when you let go of that, you do not have death, you have something unchanging and new. A vision that swells and drips with purpose, that comforts you. It grows even as you rest. Even as the rain drips down from the balcony and the heavy curtains seem to close…

I champion those who are willing to go through this curtain;  who have the courage to cling, not to the ego’s grip, but to a new hand, a new day;  who have the courage to peek through the curtain to see the light shining back at them, the happy faces in the front row waiting for them, for You, to Rise.

This is your day. Become the ultimate Scene-Stealer. Bow only to Life.

*based on a study of A Course in Miracles.