The Amazing Human Spirit

Recently, I wrote a post about "My Amazing Machine," a look at how remarkable our human bodies are.  (3/30/14)  Almost as quickly as I published that post, I had the thought, "What about your amazing spirit?" Hmm.  I wrote a note that has been on my desk for two weeks: My Amazing Spirit. Well, what about it?

First of all, my spirit isn't the only one that is amazing.  One of the remarkable things about us as human beings is the human spirit.  I've written a lot about intention, listening to our hearts, and aspiring to do what we know is right in our hearts.  When we have the spark of something in us, we seem to be driven to do it.  A few months ago, I wrote about Olympic gold medallist Gaby Douglas, who was vaulting across her front yard as a pre-schooler.  I recall seeing a movie about jazz singer Billie Holiday; she was singing with jazz records as a tween. If we listen, the "code" is within us, as much as our DNA.

Writing has been in me since I could hold a pencil.  I have a knot on the side of my middle finger that I can remember forming probably by junior high school.  I can't imagine what it would look like if computers hadn't come along 25 years ago. Well, maybe I could.  My grandmother had the writer gene and had a knot on her middle finger that got gnarly as she grew older, suggesting there was something interesting to learn from this 92-year-old woman. 

Our ability to experience wonder sets the human spirit apart among species.  Whether when I walked on errands this afternoon amidst all the beautiful flowering trees, perfuming the air with their fragrance, watched the first sprout of a tulip breaking through the soil this week, or upon waking this morning noticed  that bright spring green begin to show on budding trees behind my apartment, our ability the gasp in wonder is emblematic of the human spirit.

We also have an incredible capacity to feel connection.  Sometimes I feel connected to a friend half a world away, remembering times spent together.  Other times, I feel connected to those I don't even know, like this evening when I watched an interview with the United Nations High Commissioner on Refugees, as he shared the plight of those impacted by war in several African locations.  On truly remarkable days, I feel connected to all that is--God, nature, humanity: I can feel a ribbon of love that moves through all of us.

Closely related to connection is our ability to experience community.  Community may be experienced in our families, churches or synagogues, schools, or neighbourhoods.  Even our workplaces can allow us to feel the connection of common purpose.  I've worked in newspapers, hospitals, and now a space agency, and in each there was the experience of pulling together to do something important.

Over the last several weeks, as the collegiate basketball season wrapped up in the United States, we had the opportunity to observe that sense of community that is team many times.

I am sure there are many ways in which our spirits are amazing, but I am often astounded at the resilience of the human spirit.  I literally lost everything and somehow found the will to bounce back.  I have had a couple of significant health challenges, but through will, and with the help of capable medical professionals, I fought my way back. 

This evening I watched "The Book Thief," a remarkable story of a young woman in Nazi Germany, who lost two families--her biological one and then the one into which she'd been adopted, her closest friend, and her home.  Literally out of the ashes she found her way to a fulfilling life.

I have reflected many times about former U. S. President Jimmy Carter, who suffered the worst defeat of any sitting president and resurrected himself to be author, humanitarian, Nobel Prize winner, and human rights advocate.  The past 40 years of remarkable world service have been the result of his resilience in the face of that defeat.

So my "still small voice" within me that whispered, "What about your amazing spirit?" was right.  The human spirit is pretty remarkable. Now that I think of it, I'll bet part of what is written on the back side of our hearts is how to be human, and, if we listen closely, how to fully experiencing the wonder of the human spirit.

Partnering with our hearts

In order to evolve spiritually, we need to listen to our hearts. They are encrypted with a unique code that tells each one of us what we should be doing at any time in order to grow, perform service, and to use our gifts and talents. If we frequently take just a second to ask, "What would you have me do?" we will unfailingly be guided to accomplish what we are here to accomplish. 

Two challenges haunt me as I attempt to live this way.  The first is just remembering to check in.  It seems that I am tuned in one second and on autopilot the next doing what I'd planned to so.  The second is doing exactly what I am told when I am told to do it.  Now that flies right in the face of most of what we have been taught.  We are supposed to set goals, plan ahead, and fill our calendars, often months in advance.  The current thinking is that we don't set out to do something unless we know how to accomplish it and how we are going to pay for it, and rarely do our hearts give us a fully developed strategy and step-by-step plan to follow.  In fact, more often than not, we are only told the first step. If we keep checking in at each step, we will be guided flawlessly without ever knowing more than one step ahead.  Being in the mystery is what it is about.

Consider this story.  A number of years ago when I was living in the rainy Pacific Northwest, I decided I needed to live in a sunnier place.  I asked my heart for guidance.  (I often clarify, "Send me a sign--a real clear sign that even I can get."  Within the next 18 hours, I received six very clear messages that North Carolina was my place, beginning within five minutes when I walked in a bookstore and overheard a conversation, "I hear North Carolina is a great place to live."  The last of the six was the banner headline of my Oregon newspaper the next morning shouting, "NC best place to live."

I had my sign.  What next?  I had received no additional guidance, until I was awakened at 3 a.m. with a dream that made it clear that I was supposed to be in North Carolina on October 19.  I got up in the middle of the night and made my reservation.  Over the next nine months, a path as easy as the parting of the Red Sea opened for me.  I met someone at a conference in San Francisco, who was instrumental in meeting a realtor and business contacts. I met someone else at a conference in South Carolina who introduced me to what would be my inner circle of friends during the first years I was in NC.  Even the house that I bought became available in the middle of the day on the day I was told to shop for a house.  I've had moves across town that were harder than this cross-country move.

With all that said, when I arrived in Durham, N. C., on July 31, 1995, I had no job and all the clients of my consulting business were about as far from me as they could be and still be in the US.  However, I was certain that this was going to work out.  Within three days of my arrival, I had two major pieces of business back in Oregon that were willing to pay travel expenses, and the contracts were sufficient to support me for my first 10 months.  Furthermore, a couple months later, a client with work in China hired me, and I was able to extend my monthly trip to the West Coast on to Beijing.  Even though I hadn't known how known how I would support myself when I arrived, my first year living in NC ended up being the best revenue year since starting my business.

I could share many stories like the one above in which doors I couldn't have anticipated just miraculously opened when I listened and followed. I haven't always understood how things were going to work out or even why I was supposed to do certain things, but never once when I was following my heart, have I been misled.

That's not to say things have always worked out perfectly, but those times happened when I either didn't ask or didn't follow or didn't follow in a timely way.  More about that tomorrow.