Thou shalt not steal...

"Thou shalt not steal."

The word "steal" as a part of the Ten Commandments in the Old Testament

is traditionally interpreted to refer to as the stealing of another human being,

or kidnapping.

In the New Testament, 

it is referred to as stealing property

or theft.

In a new and 'modern' world,

and with personal thoughts inspired by a killer yoga session,

I urge you to answer this question:

Are you a thief?

No, you answer, at least not in the 'traditional' sense of the word.

But now ask yourself this:

Have you stolen someone else's experience 

by replacing it with your own opinions or control?

In a time of giving,

consider it's counterpart that you could inflict in every origin of the meaning. 

It's so easy to judge, speak without thought 

and assert control to manipulate.

So whether you're a parent, friend, spouse or sibling,

pause and consider what experience you've taken away

and quietly, creatively, and gently

Give it Back.

Best deal yet on Cyber Monday

~L~

the science behind being scared...

Last week we flew to Iceland, rented a camper, bought a map and started driving.

Unlike anything I've ever done,

but for some reason the old fear of what could happen was replaced

but the peaceful sensation of what was happening.

I can say that I embraced fear unfolding 

and no longer anticipated it's 'arrival'.

One particular night on this trip,

we got caught in a bad wind and rain storm 

that shook the camper and nearly blinded our view of the road.

Streaming through the sound system

was a pod cast I recorded by one of my all-time favorite role models -

Laird Hamilton.

He talked about how fear is absolutely necessary for our survival.

How apropos!

Here is the narration from the part that resonated with me the most:

"People should scare themselves every day-

the world would be a better place.

It brings you into the present,

it's connected into evolution,

it's a mandatory emotion that we've had for thousands of years.

Without it we would not have survived.

It gives us power but also appreciation...

Whenever anyone gets scared,

they go right into 'I love you, I miss you'....

so I think it feeds into all these emotions that are getting suppressed.

I think that we're suppressing our instincts

because we don't need the instincts to survive anymore

like we did in the past..

But they're essential in our spiritual and emotional makeup

and that's connected to our physical...

the relationship between physical and mental 

is harmonious. 

And sometimes we're not connected to that...

but you know if you're physically not feeling good,

you're mentally not feeling good,

and that's part of that connection to...

'Am I going to survive?'

And then it triggers all these things in your mind

and makes it more realistic -

you're more honest with where you are....

that we are fragile, 

that it can happen in one second

and we need to be reminded of that on a regular basis

in order to keep our attitudes right...

about who we are, 

what we are...

it would make the world a better place

if we were more in touch with that 

in the civilized world."

Thanks, buddy :)

~L

as within, so without....a lesson on inner pollution

I got a nice little "nudge" reminder of this Carl Jung((ism)) today.

If you consider the tip of a floating iceberg in the middle of the Antarctic ocean,
that's your conscious mind.
And that big, monstrous boulder in the deep abyss below the surface -
that's where the unconscious 80% of your mind lurks,
where the "matrix" of your operating system is running a navigational masquerade.

In this modern-day quote-driven, self-help obsessed society,
we're often so preoccupied by the 20% of our minds that we're actually aware of,
that we forget to shake hands with the deep stranger within.

So even when  life appears to be smooth-sailing,
we smile, exhale and wonder what life has ahead of us in store.
But it is these times that are so critical to go below and
bring more consciousness into your life.
These are the times you train your mind to to grow in presence.
To see the light in this manner,
no darkness can creep in.
The undercurrent of our unease is our collective disfunction of unawareness.
So, thanks to a good friend today, I had a conversation with someone:

Hello, depths of Me.
I don't know what you look like,
but the little molecules that hold false truths within you
often rise up and present themselves as ugly little lies
that you, my unconscious soul mate within,
disguise as clear little problem bubbles that are anything but cute.
I meet you in disguise when I don't have the courage to try something new.
You fill my dreams and I wake up in a sweat.
I thought I saw a profile of you in the mirror the other day,
and on the sidewalk where I stopped mid-run.
You are a beautiful mess of old pain and new happiness.
And you're always within me.
I've decided I want to get to know you a little better,
as there are big things I want to do,
places I want to go
and relationships I want to say yes to.
(No is apparently your favorite word).
So I will.

And to finish this tidbit for today,
I recalled a piece of wisdom from Eckhart Tolle,
something we should all ask ourselves from time to time,

"Are you polluting the world or cleaning up the mess?
As within, so without."

~L

For my son (( and any girl who may break his heart ))

I have a new appreciation for snails and bugs

and all other slothy, jurassic-looking reptiles

that fall victim to my washing machine.

(( Thanks to pets in your pockets, son. ))
If my job is to remove the dead from our dryer,
I'll do it gladly.
I'll be the lizard morgue.

The truth is - my biological clock is ticking,
as I only have about 100 more days
of fertile tush-wiping
before you, my son, decide to reach back and do it yourself.
(( before you don't need me anymore )).
Your dad seems to think that this
current way of catering to your 6-year-old self
affords me nothing but the possibility of a boy
who's too lazy to do anything mom won't.
I disagree. (( I still need you too )).

While I do hope to graduate from the University of Charmin at Rear End,
It's been valuable practice for someday wiping away your tears of rejection.
If I'm there to wipe,
for sure,
I'll be the wiper.

This, of course, will come back in the form of my own tears,
the first time I drop you off at Lacrosse camp and have to walk away.
I know you're big, son,
but that's small compared to the ginormous moment this is for me.
(( It's bigger than the sun and the mountains ))
Still, if I have to leave,
I will.
I'll let go.

When I find you on my bedroom floor in the morning,
in your footed pajamas and with your bunny named Chocolate,
or when you call me from a sleepover and want to come home,
I'll scoop you up.
You're safe with me.
I'll be home.

I'll buy way too many bottles of vitamins
because you only like the purple ones
and I'll have a hard time buying you big boy sheets
when the Star Wars ones aren't cool anymore
but that's okay.
I'll grow up with you.
I'll be your friend.

When you get off track and throw rocks at your sister,
I'll smack the same tush that I once wiped.
It's my job to keep it clean.

If you don't even think you'll need me when your first love breaks your heart,
I'll still be there.
I'll be the girl who was your first love anyway.

When you're so mad at me that your little face gets red
and your body is about to explode,
remember that I squeezed you out of my belly.
(( it hurt )).
I'm your Mom.

This might sound like a lot that I do for you,
but I don't how to be someone who's not your Mom.
You love me in the mornings when I'm not pretty,
when I'm stinky and sweaty
and when I'm not doing my job very well -
you're so forgiving.
I learn from your simplicity and your unconditional love.
I'm your student.

And when you're running around town in your car,
taking girls on dates, driving through fast food at midnight in college,
and I'm not there,
(( of course I am ))
I hope you pause and think of me -
the lizard Morgue,
the Wiper,
the Home,
the Friend,
the one who lets you go,
the Love,
the Student,
the Mom
-Yours.

(( p.s. Don't grow up ))

giving birth to Pluto (( how our ovaries remind us of bigger things ))

When I gave birth to a little girl,

I thought of pink and pig tails and tutus

and all the splendor that 'girl' entails.

I never thought about how I was giving birth to a woman -

a planet of yet-to-be-discovered beauty -

One that would teach me more about the woman I am than anything else.

The truth is, as instinctual as it was for me to become the mother I thought I'd be,

I was not prepared for what would happen to ME when my daughter started puberty.

(( Yes, the big dot ))

Running the gamut from lonely to challenging to wonderful,

I am completely and utterly enveloped in the beauty of this daunting responsibility.

How could I ever be so lucky to help my daughter understand how her body works?

(( and do I really know how?))

After a warm bath and some essential oils rubbed on her belly,

I thought about her little ovaries,

how beautiful it is that my body made her body with the ability to 

someday make the same miracle.

I thought about the color pink and how cute it used to be

and how there will soon be 50 shades of it all over my living room couch.

I thought about myself at her age,

the little girl that relates to her confusion,

and how that person doesn't even seem like she's a part of this lifetime of mine-

though every piece of her tween-size awkwardness and insecurity undoubtedly are.

I thought about the (dwarf) planet, Pluto,

and how, on July 14 of this year (5 days from now),

NASA's New Horizons space craft will reach it's atmosphere

after a decade of being adrift in search of it's wonder.

I'd use this analogy to explain to my girl that 

there is a large undiscovered world out there,

and that it takes what feels like many lifetimes - 

many atmospheres -

before you actually feel like you've earned your wings

as a confident woman.

I explained that the search, the journey to get to Pluto

is like the body's journey through the years.

"My ovaries are in flight mom?"

Precisely!

Pluto rotates in the opposite direction from Earth,

 much slower,

and it's sun rises and sets in opposite directions from ours.

This reminds me how different my little body was from hers,

how our different personalities will collide throughout the years 

and create such a beautiful mess in its wake,

and yet how similar the wonder of women can be,

how spectacular motherhood is.

Periods take the place of pig tails

and undiscovered Pluto becomes "so yesterday, mom",

and all the while,

I am so here for her journey,

the one that made up for the one I flew through blindfolded,

too young and innocent to discover until two decades later.

And then I am reminded of my mother,

the one who flew to Pluto and back with me three-fold,

 who's still here to marvel at the wonders no telescope can see -

the ones we live through together.

To all the women, moms and daughters in the Universe

with love,

here's to discovering all that's unknown, together.

~ L ~

(( coincidentally, an 11-year old girl named Venetia Burney came up

with the name Pluto for the planet when it was first discovered in 1930 ))

making peace with the wind

Hello thinker who is reading this post.

Have we met before?

I know something about you.

Right now there is something that is bothering you.

In fact, I can pretty much guarantee it.  

There's not a breathing, thinking person who isn't thinking up some botherings.

Maybe you're afraid or sad or hurt.

I can also say with near certainty that what's bothering you even has wings -

A thought so buzzing it's flying you blind.

You're afraid.

Because you don't even know who you'd be without this thought, 

yet you're consumed by it and identify with it.

It even has roots.

Wings and roots?

That's insane!

Precisely.

You're stuck.

We're all stuck.

Here's why.

We're not stuck by what happens to us,

but rather by our thoughts about what happens.

Who would you be without your story?

Author Byron Katie, my new favorite human,

says suffering is optional.

Her "Work" is a way of identifying and questioning the thoughts 

that cause anger, fear, depression, addiction and violence.

Here's a series of excerpts from the book she wrote, "Loving What Is:" 

"All the stress that we feel is caused by arguing with what is....

You can spend the rest of your life trying to teach a cat to bark...

The reason I made friends with the wind - with reality -

is that I discovered I didn't have a choice. 

I realized that it's insane to oppose it. 

When I argue with reality, I lose, but only 100% of the time.

How do I know that the wind should blow?

It's blowing!

I'm a lover of what is, not because I'm a spiritual person,

but because it hurts when I argue with reality....

Make friends with the worst that can happen....

Nothing terrible has ever happened except in our thinking...

Reality is always good, even in situations that seem like nightmares.

The story we tell is the only nightmare we have lived.

When I say that the worst that can happen is a belief - I am being literal.

The worst that can happen to you is your uninvestigated belief system."

So that's what has hurt all this time?

Arguing with reality in my own mind?

I never should have second-guessed the wind.

~ L ~

Dear Sir, I salute you (re-post)

This weekend there are lots of happenings in the United States.

Loved ones are remembering,

citizens are appreciating,

race cars are racing,

graduates are graduating.

Once again,

pain, happiness, love, honor and loss are highlighted

as we observe a day of remembrance for those who died in service 

for our freedom.

So in honor of the 150th Memorial Day weekend,

I am re-posting a favorite of yours

that I wrote one year ago.

It's a tribute to all of you out there who aren't afraid to 

be vulnerable,

either in the physical form or the emotional realm.

* * *

This past weekend,

on National television,

a little girl sang the national anthem.

It was one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard -

such big feeling coming out of such a small being.

As the camera panned out and across the the baseball field,

I noticed that a grown man was weeping.

I wish I could tell him what that meant to me.

Me, the one among millions

who saw him remove his cap,

bow his head and close his eyes.

I don't know what his moment was about,

he could have been in pain from loss, 

or maybe he was overcome with emotion from the words of our

nation's anthem.

"Gave proof through the night, that our flag was still there."

I don't know,

but I do know I was right there with him.

I felt his emotion as I, too, was moved 

in this moment.

This goes out to all the men and women

who have the courage to show their feelings in front of others,

in front of their peers, their children, the nation.

To weep is universally understood

and yet so misunderstood as weakness.

We don't know each other, Sir,

but I acknowledge you 

and I salute you.  

And I'll say a prayer for you tonight,

after I say one for those who 

aren't aware they live in the

home of the brave.

~L

(re-post from May 27, 2014)

Love is Green

On Valentines' past,
I've written about the love affair between the Earth and the Moon,
and between Flowers and Bees.

There is no greater love affair than within
nature itself because it asks for nothing in return.

In nature, it seems as though 'one' loves itself,
thrives, then another grows off this love
and in turn, thrives too.
It gives off love, and homeostasis is born.

If the 'green' of the Earth gets it, can we follow suit?
I believe so.

What does the color green look like in love to you?
It's not a traditional color associated with love,
but certainly it's not green with envy,
and maybe it isn't even green at all.

Certainly it can exist between two people,

but I believe the color green reminds us that love just IS.

It's the essence that is one being, one thing,

one flower,

It's the light left behind by the essence that no longer lives,

 it's in the memory of a dog who knew not much other than how to love,

it's in the wings around us,
waiting for those of us who don't yet know
what green looks like to them…

Maybe it's on top of a boo-boo,

Or inside the soul…

and it spreads out as far as the heart can feel it

Love is your perception of what it feels like to
give it and to receive it.
It is patient,
forgiving,
unselfish.

"Even after all this time,
the Sun never says to the Earth,
'You owe me.'
Look what happens with a Love like that,
it lights the whole sky."
~Hafiz

What color is your love?

~L~

loss when love is unrequited

un.re.qui.ted; adjective :

(of a feeling, especially love) not returned or rewarded

In light of a chat about death and loss

yesterday with a friend,

a new train of thought emerged
on a type of loss not often acknowledged as, well…loss.

Losing a loved one to death,

whether it be tragic and sudden

or slow and expected,

is a terrifying thought and a heart-wrenching reality

for most people at some point in their lifetime.

But what about loss of the living?

What happens to us when we lose someone close to us
(a friend, a spouse, a parent, a child)

who's love, who's friendship, or who's respect

is unrequited?

When they choose to cut us off
or when our actions shut us out?

Is rejection loss?
Is it as painful as losing someone to death?

According to an article written in 2013 by Guy Winch, Ph.D,

This is Your Brain on Rejection,

studies show that when someone feels rejected,

the same pathways in the brain for physical pain are activated,

meaning hurt feelings actually hurt.

You didn't 'lose' anything per se,

but your brain perceived the loss of that person as physical pain.

Is it harder to look at the same picture of someone

on your bedside table for the rest of your life 

who has passed away

or to watch an ever-evolving picture

of someone on social media that you lost 

who is still living - 

only without YOU?

The argument isn't which kind of loss hurts more,
but rather a bringing about of awareness to
a type of loss not often talked about,
such as unrequited love.

We are wired to feel pain in this way,
genetically and historically through evolution,
when once upon a time
being ostracized from small groups or tribes was
viewed as worse than death itself.

We read about the tragedy of unrequited love
in Shakespearean sonnets around 1600
such as Sonnet 149,
transcribed here into modern day verse;

"All of the best in me
worships the worst in you,
and you can command me with a glance.
But, my love, go on hating me,
because now I know your mind.
You love people who can see,
and I am blind."

So what do we do?
How do we deal with unrequited love
from a partner, a friend, a child or a parent?
I believe the answer lies in the teachings of Eckhart Tolle,
who speaks of this issue
in his book, 'A New Earth.'
He says,

"Whenever tragic loss occurs,
you either resist or you yield.
Some people become bitter or deeply resentful;
others become passionate, wise and loving.
Yielding means an inner acceptance of what is.
Resistance is inner contraction…you are closed…
the universe will not be on your side…
life will not be helpful.
When you yield internally….you surrender..
Circumstances and people then become helpful,
coincidences happen,
and if no action is possible (to change the situation),
you rest in the peace and inner stillness
that come with surrender."


When you lose someone in this way,
recognize the pain that we are wired to feel.
Hopefully this new perspective and awareness will
bring about more sensitivity towards the issue,
and forgiveness will be able to happen (one layer at a time),
whether you are the unrequitED, or the unrequitER.

~ L ~

go beyond self-doubt

When you doubt yourself for the small things you don't do, 

think big picture. 

You're on a planet that rotates around the Sun 

and trusts it's pull from the Moon. 

Your heart continues to beat, 

and your left foot trusts your right, 

as it always follows it…

The Earth does not rotate around the sun

in a perfect circle.

In fact, it's the imperfect oval 

that makes the ebb and flow

creating the seasons on our planet.

The Earth has to trust the Moon

because without it,

it would wobble significantly more

and have a harsher climate.

Your heart trusts

that while one valve opens to allow blood flow,

another valve closes to prevent backward flow.

The brain cannot feel pain,

so it trusts 

the body's hardwiring

to send it signals

that something is not right.

We need the very organ that cannot feel pain

to feel pain.

Such is the case with our own internal rhythm.

You must trust and believe in yourself,

in all that's right and that's not,

just as the Universe does.

As Victor Hugo says,

"Be as a bird, who, halting in her flight,

on a limb too slight,

feels it give way beneath her,

yet sings, sings knowing she has wings."

~ L ~

thrive even when there's no reason to

pros-per; verb - 

to flourish, grow, thrive

There out of the corner of my eye

was this lone cluster of frangipani -

ablaze with color!

Despite their solitude

from the rest of their counterparts

and the gray skies above,

there was nothing forlorn 

about them.

~ L ~