Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘spiritual growth’

“My Spiritual Journey” – watercolor by Barbie Dallmann

(11 months ago, I broke my leg in three places. The recovery has been long and difficult. I was away from my Cottage and my Paints for 7 months. And I’M BACK … not 100% … but enough to write!)

Guidance has been a difficult thing to discern. My “human nature” (i.e., ego) is strong, my emotions are turbulent, and I am often afraid. All those things make a lot of noise and take up a lot of space in my mind.

In order to perceive the Voice of Spirit, I must step outside the usual cacophony and “get quiet.” Meditation helps. Being in nature, contemplating, even painting all encourage the “small, still voice” to emerge.

So, I experience Spirit’s guidance as a kind of alignment of my body, mind, and spirit. An idea will occur to me (i.e., “the guidance”), and there is an instant reaction. It feels like my body is being magnetically pulled into action around the idea. At the same time, my emotions light up with excitement; there is a feeling of delighted anticipation.

My mind is fascinated; my body is geared up; and my emotions are fueled with crackling energy. THAT is what happens when I receive spiritual guidance. I FEEL it in the whole of my being. I recognize it as something “in me” but not “of me.”

It all happens in a couple seconds, and so if I’m not paying attention, it can vanish just as quickly as it arrived. Inspiration happens in the time it takes to inspire—literally, to take a breath. Sometimes I get an electrical tingling all through my body, even goose bumps. I suppose the point of writing all this detail is that I do know how I know when I am hearing the voice of my inner wisdom, higher self, the Divine, Spirit (it has many names).

The problem, however, remains: What do I do with the guidance? Do I follow it? One would think, “Of course! Follow it!” But remember the aforementioned ego? That part of me isn’t so quick to comply. Often, like a small child being sent off to bed, it crosses its arms, stomps its feet and grumbles: I don’t want to!

That part can be very stubborn. It likes comfort and safety. It likes to play games on its phone, watch movies on TV, read trash mystery novels, and browse Facebook until it finds something to criticize (which takes no time at all to find but hours to indulge in).

The challenge is to recognize and experience the guidance as it occurs and then focus on it for a bit, allowing the alignment experience to lift my soul to a level of high vibration. With every breath, I can feel the effects of the high frequency of spiritual alignment. It feels like calm, like peace, like love, like I don’t want to ever leave the moment.

And if I can stay in that state for just a few minutes, without the need to think about it, analyze it, create a plan of action—if I can simply be, to just experience it, then I will get the fuel I need to eventually follow through.

Later, when my ego tries to persuade me out of acting on the guidance: We’re too tired … that’s a lot of work … what if no one comes? … I don’t feel like it … can we do this later? … I’m so tired! … when I hear the whining, I can close my eyes, take a deep breath and REMEMBER the state of alignment. I can feel it again. I can connect with its truth and its wisdom.

That’s when Trust and Obey come into play. And that’s a whole ‘nother ball game, for a whole ‘nother blog.

Read Full Post »

Ghost Ranch, Abiquiu, New Mexico

On October 3, I switched my phone to airplane mode and stowed my books, podcasts, and video games. Armed with a journal and pen, I gave myself permission to fully experience seven days at Ghost Ranch in New Mexico, where I attended a Rite of Passage Retreat entitled, “Choosing Conscious Elderhood.”

At 69, I finally felt ready to accept “being older,” and I longed for a deep dive into discovering what that means. During the retreat, I explored inner and outer landscapes. In circles with like-minded participants, I reviewed the details of my life, learning about my gifts, reinterpreting events, and releasing old stories that had outlived their usefulness. I focused on The Harvest, this time of life where I am able to gather the fruits of my experience and share them freely with others. In deep gratitude for all of my teachers, friends, and companions who taught and guided me throughout my life, I discovered my heart’s desire to be of service.

On day 5, each of the 7 attendees spent 11 hours alone in the wilderness, connecting with nature and the Great Mystery. In my memory, it seems I spent the entire day communing with Spirit, walking, talking, writing, playing, and laughing. Maybe that was a taste of Eternity. I lost all sense of time passing, and before I realized it, the rising sun had become the setting sun, and it was time to find my way back to my room.

In that place of solitude, I sensed that everything is in Divine Order, that all is interconnected, and that there is a Unifying Force at work throughout the Universe. I felt VERY small, less than a grain of sand in a remote desert on a tiny planet in a vast solar system that sits inconspicuously among millions of similarly vast solar systems comprising a single galaxy among trillions of galaxies in an ever-expanding Universe.

Who am I? A single life, connected to All That Is. My heart swelled with gratitude, love, and a desire to participate in this incomprehensible Miracle right here on this planet for as long as I live. Then I’ll happily move on to the next great adventure because I am Energy, and Energy cannot be destroyed. It simply transforms again and again and again. Deep in the fiber of my being, I felt the truth of it, the power of it, the love of it. And I still do.

So, don’t be surprised if I miss your call, if I’m slow to answer an email or return a text. Don’t worry; you can still trust that I will tend to the routines of human life. I will also be shifting my priorities. I intend to continue to grow and serve for the rest of my life. I want these final decades to be filled with connection and courage. I want each day to begin with an open heart and an intention to allow love to guide my steps.

I am forever changed by this experience. I am calmer, more peaceful, braver, and happier. My wistful look and hint of a smile are because I have glimpsed the most delicious secret; I believe I have had a tiny peek at the surprises to come, and they are all rooted in love.

And so my Elder Journey begins. (There’s so much more to come!)


For information about future Elderhood retreats, see: https://www.centerforconsciouseldering.com/events/

Read Full Post »

Mississippi River near Hannibal, Missouri

Late yesterday afternoon, we returned from a two-week road trip to Nebraska for my 50th high school reunion. Traveling with a dog and a cat, we stayed at six different places. All I have to say about that is I TOTALLY understand why it is called LUGgage.

Of course, it’s good to be home. All the contents of the many bags, boxes, and crates have been put away. I’m feeling grounded and grateful, especially in the knowledge of where my morning coffee will be when I need it.

One of the most exhausting things about travel is the constant need to adjust to new places, surroundings, and ways of executing everyday tasks. There are more question marks and exclamation points than periods: Where is the dog’s leash? Here it is! … Where do you want the cat’s litter box? Under the bathroom sink! … How does the bed feel? Wonderful! … Is there a grocery store close by? Yes! … Is there coffee for that coffee maker? It’s all Decaf! What’s wrong with these people?!?!

After a couple of weeks like that, the siren call to embrace routine and sameness is enticing. It’s so tempting to turn off my churning brain and slip ever so silently into the warm bath of mindless habit.

I was up early and went straight to the cottage for my usual meditation, prayer, and writing time. Back to the house, I fixed breakfast and almost pulled out my tablet to catch up on the news, something I hadn’t done in two weeks.

Then I stopped. Something was missing.

Where was the heightened state of curiosity and anticipation? Where was that sense of ALIVENESS? Where were my Vacation Eyes? Where were those eyes that looked closely at everything, drinking it all in with pleasure and satisfaction? Where was my mindfulness? Oh, there it is, soaking in a hot tub of habit.

I took my steel cut oats and fresh fruit—oh, how I’ve missed those!—outdoors, leaving my phone and tablet behind. I sat there, looking, really looking at everything. I used my vacation eyes to spot a dozen different kinds of birds and my vacation ears to hear the cry of a hunting hawk. I heard the cicadas and the songbirds. I heard the squirrels and the distant traffic. The sky was blue, and I saw fog clinging to the treetops, slowly dissolving right before my eyes as the sun rose. The air smelled fresh, the breeze was cool, and the breakfast was the best I’ve had in two weeks

I looked at my familiar surroundings with the vacation eyes I used to gaze at the Mississippi River from the cabin deck in Hannibal, Missouri. I felt the same awe in realizing I was seeing THIS scene for the first time. Nothing stays the same; everything changes. Maybe it’s the same tree, but there are yellow leaves where green leaves hung two weeks ago. And the blue jay squawking now will give way to the chickadee chirping in a few seconds.

Familiarity and routine are comfortable and can keep life flowing efficiently. Choosing how and when to use them is the key. After flexing my mindfulness muscles for two weeks, I want to make sure they get a good workout every single day. So, here’s to the eye opening gifts of travel and the warm embrace of home.

Nebraska Sky near Neligh, Nebraska

Read Full Post »

This morning I washed my car. It’s been a while, and it was dog-dirty. I have a Mustang convertible, and I rarely drive it with the top up. That in itself attracts a lot of dust and leaves. Then there’s the dog. I regularly drive her to the forest for stick chasing, creek swimming, and dirt gathering. It took several hours to get my sweet ride looking properly cool once again.

While I was busy detailing, I listened to ‘60s and ‘70s music on Sirius Radio, and my mind began to wander. I was listening to the soundtrack of my high school years. With certain songs, it feels like I’m time traveling. Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline” takes me back to a morning ride to school, my car filled with friends, and all of us singing and swaying to that song. Good times never felt so good. I swear, I could almost hear my girlfriends laughing and singing.

During my stroll down memory lane, I remembered it was 50 years ago this month that I was excitedly anticipating my 16th birthday. I was so dead sure that my parents were going to buy me a Mustang convertible. I had been dropping hints for months, maybe for a year. I had plans to get my driver’s license on my birthday, and I imagined driving off in my brand new Mustang.

Mom kept telling me, emphatically, that I was NOT getting a car. She gave me loads of reasons, mostly financial ones, but I didn’t believe her. I was so sure that she and Dad were just saying no so that it would be a surprise. How could they refuse me? It was my biggest dream ever! It was my 16th birthday! I was certain it was happening. As the days passed, my excitement was barely containable. I could hardly stand it. When the day arrived, I was determined to act cool, to be totally surprised.

I was surprised, all right. A cake, a bottle of nail polish, and some new clothes. That was it. I nearly cried, but I didn’t. I took every ounce of my disappointment and buried it deep, deep inside myself. There was no way I was going to appear ungrateful. After all, Mom had told me time and again there would be no car.

Fast forward to this morning: me happily scrubbing down my car, singing along to the oldies and fondly remembering my youth. Suddenly, I felt my 16-year-old self looking over my shoulder, wide-eyed and thrilled, screaming with delight. The 50-year-old disappointment melted, and I heard myself saying aloud, “I bought it for you, Sweetie. Happy Birthday!” And then that 16-year-old hopeful optimist who had been so determined to act cool and totally surprised, broke down in tears of gratitude.

I have never been so happy with my car as I was this morning, nor have I ever enjoyed washing it quite that much.

Read Full Post »

Older Posts »