For most of the last 51 months, my supervisor has made my life extremely difficult. To say that at times it has been hell is not an exaggeration. It's not just me. She seems to be an almost-equal opportunity difficult task master. Over that time, I've watched myself go from being a strong, confident, and creative professional to a shrinking violet who has learned to stay under the radar. I've lost my humor and my optimism. By showing up as less than who I really am, I have lost some of my integrity.
Why do I tell you all that? I think it is important for you to understand that relationship before I share what I am about to tell you.
Last Wednesday I said something to my boss in front of others. It was true, and I am sure it was hurtful. As the hours passed, with each I felt more and more guilt and shame. By evening, I had a long talk with myself about who I was and who I wanted to me. The short answer: not like that.
The first thing Thursday morning, I sought out my supervisor, and I apologized. I said I knew what I'd said had been hurtful, and I was very sorry. She accepted my apology with grace. Later in the day she thanked me, and I again said how sorry I had been.
Nothing she had done over the last four years justified my being unkind. My unkindness is about me, not about her. In fact, I think that my ability to not respond in kind in the face of her words and actions has been the mark of the person I choose to be. When I started responding in kind, that is when I lost my ability to be who I choose to be.
What is interesting is what happened at that second meeting: we had what was probably the best conversation we've ever had. Instead of continuing to shrink, my apology had given me the standing to be fully present in our meeting. I shared some things that had been on my heart for a long time. I told her how limiting my job has become. She listened.
I am not sure what forgiveness means in this context. I have certainly not forgotten all the injustices I've suffered at her hand. However, I am tired of this relationship as it has been. In fact, I am tired. The environment in which my team works is exhausting, and work that used to exhilarate me now leaves me drained. I am also tired of leaving my stuff at home every day. Dumbing down doesn't suit me, and it is totally out of character and integrity. In this situation, I think that forgiveness means clearing the air so that I may fully show up again.
Some would say she doesn't deserve it. In retrospect, I don't think I did it for her. I did it for me. I offered her an olive branch because I didn't like that I was becoming like her. I didn't like that I was showing up out of character and integrity. Since my Thursday afternoon meeting, I have recalled a quote, "Forgiveness is the gift you give yourself." I don't know who the original source is, but I've seen it work time and again with clients. This week I saw it work for me.
Perhaps what forgiveness does for us is remind us that we've all done something at some time that we were not proud of. My sharpness with my boss on Wednesday morning was a knife in me, reminding me of who I was becoming, and I didn't like it. By recognizing that my own imperfections, I was humbled to accept her own. It has been a tortuous route to a level playing field, but I hope we have finally arrived.
Showing posts with label forgiveness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label forgiveness. Show all posts
Sunday, June 8, 2014
Monday, March 24, 2014
Guilt and Self-Forgiveness
Although I ended up working several hours on my Sabbath yesterday, it was not until late afternoon. Both my pastor's message in the church service that I attended and the guests on "Super Soul Sunday" (OWN) provided me with much material for reflection. Yesterday I wrote about the pastor's message which led me to decide that I really want a soft and open heart again.
Today, I'd like to share from one segment of "Super Soul Sunday." Rabbi Irwin Kula was the guest "expert" with several guests, each of whom was dealing with significant guilt. Kula, co-author of
Yearnings: Embracing the Sacred Messiness of Life, talked about guilt getting us stuck and the value of forgiving ourselves. When we wallow in our guilt, it is usually because we obsess on replaying the thing for which we feel guilty, attempting to replay the circumstances over and over again with "What ifs?"
One of the wisest things that he said is that in order to move beyond our guilt that we must redirect the "What ifs?" into "What now?" or "What next?" His words really got me thinking. "What-iffing" is destined to frustrate us repeatedly because there can never be a satisfactory outcome. No matter how many ways we replay the past, there is no way to change it; there can never be reality in any of the alternatives that we imagine. The past is the past, and nothing can really change it. The only place to make change is now.
Mostly, I've lived my life without regrets but there are three things that really bug me. I have been guilty of what-iffing...for years, even decades...thinking that if I imagined the perfect combination of events that somehow, like magic, I would be transported in time back to the event for a do-over. There are no do-overs. Yet over and again, I've been unable to pull myself out of the do-over mentality.
In each case, I did the very best I could do with what I knew at the time. No matter how many more resources I have now or how much more I know, it doesn't matter. Although it seems like I've spent lots of time grieving, I may need some more conscious grieving. But, my real work now is to focus on the "What now?" and "What next?" The time has come for forgiving myself, so that I may move forward.
I've often said that the biggest regret in my life is my inability or lack of resources to have saved my marriage and to have hurt the person I loved most in the world (still do) in the process. I have grown a lot. Now I can actually see what I could have done differently, but I couldn't learn that without having been where I've been in the last 20 years. Not only are there no do-overs, but if we could, we couldn't employ resources that we didn't have at the time.
While that is clearly my biggest regret, as I've reflected over the last 28 hours, I think I have much more guilt over the failure of my business. Actually, it isn't the failure of my business that has caused the guilt, but what happened because of it. Many people think that the best entrepreneurs are those who have had at least one business failure. One of my clients--a multi-millionaire in the hundreds of millions--had experienced several business failures, along with his several huge successes.
Knowing this, I don't beat myself up too much about an economy that went bust at the time current events cut deeply into another revenue stream and just as my publishing house closed the part of the business which published two of my books. I had been very prudent about having multiple revenue streams and months of retained earnings to carry me over the bumps. Mostly, I just shrug about that: there really was nothing I could have done to change those circumstances that I hadn't already done.
What makes me ache about my business failure is that when I lost everything, I lost a small nest egg that my father had left me. My father worked very hard to provide for his family and to send me to college. I can remember many long days in even longer weeks of doing pretty physical labor. Quite frankly, I don't know how he did it. My parents were frugal and good savers. The owned everything outright with no debt. All that hard work and frugality allowed me to start my business and take time to write three books in the first place. I am truly grateful for those opportunities, and at the same time, it makes me ache that all my father's hard work just evaporated.
I have serious guilt about losing that money. In my "what ifs?" about this, I've even imagine having a conversation with him, hoping that somehow if he understood it, I'd feel better. The truth is that I don't think he would ever understand it. He wouldn't blame me, but I am sure he would have a very difficult time understanding me being entrepreneurial instead of working at a more conventional job. "What-iffing?" will never change that.
Finally, I've ended up later in my career in a dead-end job that has been financially devastating to me in the wake of my business failure. I took a huge pay cut to take a job that I thought would allow me more upward mobility, as well as the opportunity to sleep in my own bed on weeknights. That was just as the Federal government went into a three-year pay freeze, and now that we've gotten a whopping 1% increase when local cost of living has gone up way more than that, I've netted enough each pay period to buy a latte at Starbucks...if I don't buy a vente. To add insult to injury, the work environment has been toxic. Water under the bridge. I made the move. It is good resume material, and I have gotten to sleep in my own bed every work night since I took the job...until tomorrow. (A sign?)
The time has come for me to grieve my losses and move on. The past is the past. Populated by ghosts, it isn't a good place to live. I even think it may have had something to do with the hardening of my heart about which I wrote yesterday. Yet, I don't want to be glib about this. I plan to set aside a time for a grieving ritual, and then, I think, literally plant some seeds to remind me that, when I plant for the future, something can actually grow.
Rabbi Kula said that forgiving is not forgetting. I believe that forgiving is how we free ourselves. I've written in the blog before about forgiving others. Now it's time to forgive myself.
Today, I'd like to share from one segment of "Super Soul Sunday." Rabbi Irwin Kula was the guest "expert" with several guests, each of whom was dealing with significant guilt. Kula, co-author of
Yearnings: Embracing the Sacred Messiness of Life, talked about guilt getting us stuck and the value of forgiving ourselves. When we wallow in our guilt, it is usually because we obsess on replaying the thing for which we feel guilty, attempting to replay the circumstances over and over again with "What ifs?"
One of the wisest things that he said is that in order to move beyond our guilt that we must redirect the "What ifs?" into "What now?" or "What next?" His words really got me thinking. "What-iffing" is destined to frustrate us repeatedly because there can never be a satisfactory outcome. No matter how many ways we replay the past, there is no way to change it; there can never be reality in any of the alternatives that we imagine. The past is the past, and nothing can really change it. The only place to make change is now.
Mostly, I've lived my life without regrets but there are three things that really bug me. I have been guilty of what-iffing...for years, even decades...thinking that if I imagined the perfect combination of events that somehow, like magic, I would be transported in time back to the event for a do-over. There are no do-overs. Yet over and again, I've been unable to pull myself out of the do-over mentality.
In each case, I did the very best I could do with what I knew at the time. No matter how many more resources I have now or how much more I know, it doesn't matter. Although it seems like I've spent lots of time grieving, I may need some more conscious grieving. But, my real work now is to focus on the "What now?" and "What next?" The time has come for forgiving myself, so that I may move forward.
I've often said that the biggest regret in my life is my inability or lack of resources to have saved my marriage and to have hurt the person I loved most in the world (still do) in the process. I have grown a lot. Now I can actually see what I could have done differently, but I couldn't learn that without having been where I've been in the last 20 years. Not only are there no do-overs, but if we could, we couldn't employ resources that we didn't have at the time.
While that is clearly my biggest regret, as I've reflected over the last 28 hours, I think I have much more guilt over the failure of my business. Actually, it isn't the failure of my business that has caused the guilt, but what happened because of it. Many people think that the best entrepreneurs are those who have had at least one business failure. One of my clients--a multi-millionaire in the hundreds of millions--had experienced several business failures, along with his several huge successes.
Knowing this, I don't beat myself up too much about an economy that went bust at the time current events cut deeply into another revenue stream and just as my publishing house closed the part of the business which published two of my books. I had been very prudent about having multiple revenue streams and months of retained earnings to carry me over the bumps. Mostly, I just shrug about that: there really was nothing I could have done to change those circumstances that I hadn't already done.
What makes me ache about my business failure is that when I lost everything, I lost a small nest egg that my father had left me. My father worked very hard to provide for his family and to send me to college. I can remember many long days in even longer weeks of doing pretty physical labor. Quite frankly, I don't know how he did it. My parents were frugal and good savers. The owned everything outright with no debt. All that hard work and frugality allowed me to start my business and take time to write three books in the first place. I am truly grateful for those opportunities, and at the same time, it makes me ache that all my father's hard work just evaporated.
I have serious guilt about losing that money. In my "what ifs?" about this, I've even imagine having a conversation with him, hoping that somehow if he understood it, I'd feel better. The truth is that I don't think he would ever understand it. He wouldn't blame me, but I am sure he would have a very difficult time understanding me being entrepreneurial instead of working at a more conventional job. "What-iffing?" will never change that.
Finally, I've ended up later in my career in a dead-end job that has been financially devastating to me in the wake of my business failure. I took a huge pay cut to take a job that I thought would allow me more upward mobility, as well as the opportunity to sleep in my own bed on weeknights. That was just as the Federal government went into a three-year pay freeze, and now that we've gotten a whopping 1% increase when local cost of living has gone up way more than that, I've netted enough each pay period to buy a latte at Starbucks...if I don't buy a vente. To add insult to injury, the work environment has been toxic. Water under the bridge. I made the move. It is good resume material, and I have gotten to sleep in my own bed every work night since I took the job...until tomorrow. (A sign?)
The time has come for me to grieve my losses and move on. The past is the past. Populated by ghosts, it isn't a good place to live. I even think it may have had something to do with the hardening of my heart about which I wrote yesterday. Yet, I don't want to be glib about this. I plan to set aside a time for a grieving ritual, and then, I think, literally plant some seeds to remind me that, when I plant for the future, something can actually grow.
Rabbi Kula said that forgiving is not forgetting. I believe that forgiving is how we free ourselves. I've written in the blog before about forgiving others. Now it's time to forgive myself.
Friday, December 6, 2013
Reconciliation
Once or twice a century the world is blessed with a truly wise leader. Yesterday the world lost one of them when Nelson Mandela died.
Over 20 years after Mandela was released from 27 years in prison, I still find it mind-boggling that he was wise enough to respond to severe personal and societal repression by advocating a Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC.) The purpose of the TRC was to give thousands of people the opportunity to face their oppressors, for the oppressors to tell their stories, and most of the time to forgive each other.
Back in the day when I spoke at a lot of conferences, John Dawson and I both addressed a number of the same conferences. Dawson founded the International Reconciliation Coalition in 1990. (http://reconciled1.com/international-reconciliation-coalition-overview/) His organization is founded on religious conviction, but the reconciliation ceremonies that he led around the world often addressed secular ills from mistreatment of Native Americans to abused women. The purpose of his work was to provide an opportunity to injured peoples to hear an apology for their pain, and by so doing, allowed the oppressed to move beyond their pain.
Reconciliation is a powerful concept: the end of a conflict between disputing people or groups without retaliation. In the Roman Catholic Church reconciliation is a sacrament whereby a person confesses his or her sins and offers penance to be absolve of misdeeds. Whether part of a church sacrament or a secular ritual like the TRC, reconciliation is God's opportunity for us to admit we could do better, to be sorry, and to be forgiven, and by so doing, we return to God.
Mandela provides me with a powerful example or forgiveness and reconciliation. If a man who was imprisoned for decades can forgive and reconcile, then most certainly I have nothing that should stand in my way of doing the same.
Over 20 years after Mandela was released from 27 years in prison, I still find it mind-boggling that he was wise enough to respond to severe personal and societal repression by advocating a Truth and Reconciliation Commission (TRC.) The purpose of the TRC was to give thousands of people the opportunity to face their oppressors, for the oppressors to tell their stories, and most of the time to forgive each other.
Back in the day when I spoke at a lot of conferences, John Dawson and I both addressed a number of the same conferences. Dawson founded the International Reconciliation Coalition in 1990. (http://reconciled1.com/international-reconciliation-coalition-overview/) His organization is founded on religious conviction, but the reconciliation ceremonies that he led around the world often addressed secular ills from mistreatment of Native Americans to abused women. The purpose of his work was to provide an opportunity to injured peoples to hear an apology for their pain, and by so doing, allowed the oppressed to move beyond their pain.
Reconciliation is a powerful concept: the end of a conflict between disputing people or groups without retaliation. In the Roman Catholic Church reconciliation is a sacrament whereby a person confesses his or her sins and offers penance to be absolve of misdeeds. Whether part of a church sacrament or a secular ritual like the TRC, reconciliation is God's opportunity for us to admit we could do better, to be sorry, and to be forgiven, and by so doing, we return to God.
Mandela provides me with a powerful example or forgiveness and reconciliation. If a man who was imprisoned for decades can forgive and reconcile, then most certainly I have nothing that should stand in my way of doing the same.
Thursday, December 5, 2013
The Forgiveness of All Humankind
Almost three months ago, I adopted a new set of eight spiritual statements upon which to focus my spiritual growth during this dark half of the year. At least several times a day, and sometimes many times a day, I say and reflect upon these affirmations. Something shifted yesterday. As I was saying them, suddenly one took on new meaning. I've had this happen before. My understanding has to get deep enough for me to truly "get it." I find it a bit like looking at something, which has been in the shadows, but which the sun has finally reached: wow! all the color, dimension and intricacies that I missed when it was in the semi-darkness.
Yesterday, the statement "My work is the forgiveness of all humankind" shifted. Since I write, speak, and coach, I have been thinking that I was supposed to encourage people with whom I come in contact to forgive people in their lives. The idea, I thought, was that if enough people forgave enough others that eventually all humankind would be forgiven.
As I've sunk more and more deeply into this spiritual learning, a different meaning has revealed itself to me. To paraphrase, sometimes it is all about me. Yesterday's revelation was that I am supposed to forgive everyone with whom I have ever come in contact, no matter how big or small their grievance. At first doing so didn't really seem like such a big deal. I regularly "purge" myself of grudges, resentments, and anger with forgiveness. I don't think that I harbor much. People in my life who have committed egregious offenses have not only be forgiven but forgotten as well. I even forgive myself from time to time, although I admit that I am not nearly as good about self-forgiveness.
Consequently, I am not sure why forgiving all humankind seems like such big deal, besides the fact that "all humankind" is a whole boat load of people. As I've meditated on this, the spheres of influence on forgiveness have broadened. Not just people who have done things to me, but resentments I may carry about violations of others are included. Then, there was the wave about people who have committed destructive acts to the planet and even crimes against humanity. Of course, with my personal interest in politics, there are plenty of politicians that could do with some forgiving. There are also the historical violations of our individual and collective ancestors, such as slavery, the treatment of Native Americans in the US, and the near extinction of many species. You get the idea. The more I sit with it, the more I am able to see just how much in the world is to be forgiven.
I am certain that this forgiveness of all humankind is the work of a lifetime. I expect that in the time during which I forgive one or two that a dozen more acts will have been committed to be forgiven. If I really think about it, I am overwhelmed, so I just don't think about it...at least not in a worrisome way. If I did, I'd have to forgive myself for worrying. I am still trying to just be with how this plays out, but I sense that at the end, I will be back in that most alluring spot: being present. With nothing to pull me into the past or the future, here I am...now...present.
I believe I've mentioned before that spiritual teacher Carolyn Myss has said our most important spiritual work is to be present. As I explore the many dimensions of spiritual growth and learning, all roads seem to lead back to being present. It makes sense that if we get to the place where we can truly be present in the present, we would have mastered many other spiritual lessons along the way.
For now, it seems to me that the dimension of being present with which I am currently engaged is to forgive...and forgive...and forgive some more.
Yesterday, the statement "My work is the forgiveness of all humankind" shifted. Since I write, speak, and coach, I have been thinking that I was supposed to encourage people with whom I come in contact to forgive people in their lives. The idea, I thought, was that if enough people forgave enough others that eventually all humankind would be forgiven.
As I've sunk more and more deeply into this spiritual learning, a different meaning has revealed itself to me. To paraphrase, sometimes it is all about me. Yesterday's revelation was that I am supposed to forgive everyone with whom I have ever come in contact, no matter how big or small their grievance. At first doing so didn't really seem like such a big deal. I regularly "purge" myself of grudges, resentments, and anger with forgiveness. I don't think that I harbor much. People in my life who have committed egregious offenses have not only be forgiven but forgotten as well. I even forgive myself from time to time, although I admit that I am not nearly as good about self-forgiveness.
Consequently, I am not sure why forgiving all humankind seems like such big deal, besides the fact that "all humankind" is a whole boat load of people. As I've meditated on this, the spheres of influence on forgiveness have broadened. Not just people who have done things to me, but resentments I may carry about violations of others are included. Then, there was the wave about people who have committed destructive acts to the planet and even crimes against humanity. Of course, with my personal interest in politics, there are plenty of politicians that could do with some forgiving. There are also the historical violations of our individual and collective ancestors, such as slavery, the treatment of Native Americans in the US, and the near extinction of many species. You get the idea. The more I sit with it, the more I am able to see just how much in the world is to be forgiven.
I am certain that this forgiveness of all humankind is the work of a lifetime. I expect that in the time during which I forgive one or two that a dozen more acts will have been committed to be forgiven. If I really think about it, I am overwhelmed, so I just don't think about it...at least not in a worrisome way. If I did, I'd have to forgive myself for worrying. I am still trying to just be with how this plays out, but I sense that at the end, I will be back in that most alluring spot: being present. With nothing to pull me into the past or the future, here I am...now...present.
I believe I've mentioned before that spiritual teacher Carolyn Myss has said our most important spiritual work is to be present. As I explore the many dimensions of spiritual growth and learning, all roads seem to lead back to being present. It makes sense that if we get to the place where we can truly be present in the present, we would have mastered many other spiritual lessons along the way.
For now, it seems to me that the dimension of being present with which I am currently engaged is to forgive...and forgive...and forgive some more.
Sunday, November 24, 2013
Actually Being Still and Knowing
This morning I did what I said yesterday I was going to do: "be still!" and "know!" Well, actually, I spent a good bit of time attempting to "be still!" but actually very little time doing so. I've often quoted Yoda, "There is no try. There is do or no do." I guess the truth is that "being still!" was a "no do" for much of the two hours during which I dedicated myself to that activity.
As a bit of background, I went with a friend to the movies last night. The movie my friend picked was "About Time," a time travel film, which ended with the message to fully live each day as if it were your very last. As often as I've written variations on "being present," you might imagine that the movie's message resonated with me, and it did. Except...
For whatever reason, instead of following the film's message, I spun off into a totally different place. Instead of using the precious moments I had with my friend in the present, I went into quite a pity party about how I'd squandered my life (the past.) It's not as if I took my inheritance and went off in prodigal fashion for a life of partying and waste. Most of the time, the decisions I've made have been the best in the moment. I probably haven't been as prayerful about all decisions as I might have, but I am still "in lesson" on that.
As I bounced like a Ping-Pong ball from the past to the future and back, I painfully looked at my life from judgment of where I thought I should be. Everything that most of us have been told about life planning is that I should be at the pinnacle of my career with assets and relationships accumulated to carry me through the rest of my life. I really don't have much to show for what our society would describe as a life well lived.
I tell that story because history drove my "be still!" time this morning. As I struggled to be still, my pity party continued. I replayed decision points in my life which had led to this point in time. Then, I beat myself up about it. This wasn't "be still! and know! that I am God." And that is what I heard when I was finally still.
"Be love! Experience joy! If God accepts my life with love, why can I not find that a place in my heart for me to love my life?" Almost as an after-thought came a parting message: to remember what I've written about "forgiveness."
I booted up my computer and looked at what I'd written about forgiveness (10/3/13.) The gist of it was that how I "be Love" is through forgiveness, including forgiving myself. My job isn't judgment of my life: it is loving kindness and compassion. That is what I know when I "be still! and know! that I am God."
As a bit of background, I went with a friend to the movies last night. The movie my friend picked was "About Time," a time travel film, which ended with the message to fully live each day as if it were your very last. As often as I've written variations on "being present," you might imagine that the movie's message resonated with me, and it did. Except...
For whatever reason, instead of following the film's message, I spun off into a totally different place. Instead of using the precious moments I had with my friend in the present, I went into quite a pity party about how I'd squandered my life (the past.) It's not as if I took my inheritance and went off in prodigal fashion for a life of partying and waste. Most of the time, the decisions I've made have been the best in the moment. I probably haven't been as prayerful about all decisions as I might have, but I am still "in lesson" on that.
As I bounced like a Ping-Pong ball from the past to the future and back, I painfully looked at my life from judgment of where I thought I should be. Everything that most of us have been told about life planning is that I should be at the pinnacle of my career with assets and relationships accumulated to carry me through the rest of my life. I really don't have much to show for what our society would describe as a life well lived.
I tell that story because history drove my "be still!" time this morning. As I struggled to be still, my pity party continued. I replayed decision points in my life which had led to this point in time. Then, I beat myself up about it. This wasn't "be still! and know! that I am God." And that is what I heard when I was finally still.
"Be love! Experience joy! If God accepts my life with love, why can I not find that a place in my heart for me to love my life?" Almost as an after-thought came a parting message: to remember what I've written about "forgiveness."
I booted up my computer and looked at what I'd written about forgiveness (10/3/13.) The gist of it was that how I "be Love" is through forgiveness, including forgiving myself. My job isn't judgment of my life: it is loving kindness and compassion. That is what I know when I "be still! and know! that I am God."
Wednesday, November 6, 2013
Going to school
My life has seemed to go in cycles. For a few years life flows swimmingly. Money, relationships, health, and career all work well. Then, for no apparent reason, one day it shifts, and life can be very difficult for the next few. While I certainly think the easy times are much more fun, in truth, I am sure that the difficult ones are more important to the evolution of my soul.
I think of the difficult times as when we are in "spiritual school." It is easy to have faith when everything is easy. I have learned the most about faith when it is tested. Like in the life of the Biblical Job, if we are able to remember that we are on a spiritual journey, we come out the other side stronger and closer to whatever we consider the divine. When things really fall apart, we are going to spiritual graduate school.
When I was publishing a book each year, writing several newspaper columns, consulting globally, and delivering a reasonable number of keynote addresses, I had lots of people around me who loved me. Then the economy went bust...and my business with it. Suddenly, most of my "friends" evaporated. I found out who my true friends were. I would never have learned what makes a real friend without those times.
Similarly, I won't ever really learn about forgiveness and gratitude until I need to forgive someone for a particularly wicked deed and then take it one step further to expressing gratitude for the deed. Twenty years ago a friend and I would talk about "being in lesson" at moments like that. We would know that there was a spiritual purpose for our challenging times. The more challenging the times, the more we were sure we were "in lesson."
School goes in other cycles too. A different friend and I were talking over dinner Sunday about the same lessons that seem to keep showing up in our lives every few years. In my belief system those repeating lessons are ones that our souls signed up to master. But, with each cycle, we learn something different.
I am a bit reluctant to announce at this early stage, but I feel a difficult cycle is approaching an end. You may recall that a few days ago, I wrote about feeling as if I were pregnant (11/2/12.) I've been restless and keep feeling like I have been about to deliver something. Today, I think my "baby" is an easier stage of life. In several arenas in life, I feel little breakthroughs, harbingers of better times. I feel as if it might almost be safe to relax. Ah!
While I look forward to easier times, I am cognizant of being truly grateful for the years I've been "in spiritual school," maybe this time for a spiritual post-doc.
I think of the difficult times as when we are in "spiritual school." It is easy to have faith when everything is easy. I have learned the most about faith when it is tested. Like in the life of the Biblical Job, if we are able to remember that we are on a spiritual journey, we come out the other side stronger and closer to whatever we consider the divine. When things really fall apart, we are going to spiritual graduate school.
When I was publishing a book each year, writing several newspaper columns, consulting globally, and delivering a reasonable number of keynote addresses, I had lots of people around me who loved me. Then the economy went bust...and my business with it. Suddenly, most of my "friends" evaporated. I found out who my true friends were. I would never have learned what makes a real friend without those times.
Similarly, I won't ever really learn about forgiveness and gratitude until I need to forgive someone for a particularly wicked deed and then take it one step further to expressing gratitude for the deed. Twenty years ago a friend and I would talk about "being in lesson" at moments like that. We would know that there was a spiritual purpose for our challenging times. The more challenging the times, the more we were sure we were "in lesson."
School goes in other cycles too. A different friend and I were talking over dinner Sunday about the same lessons that seem to keep showing up in our lives every few years. In my belief system those repeating lessons are ones that our souls signed up to master. But, with each cycle, we learn something different.
I am a bit reluctant to announce at this early stage, but I feel a difficult cycle is approaching an end. You may recall that a few days ago, I wrote about feeling as if I were pregnant (11/2/12.) I've been restless and keep feeling like I have been about to deliver something. Today, I think my "baby" is an easier stage of life. In several arenas in life, I feel little breakthroughs, harbingers of better times. I feel as if it might almost be safe to relax. Ah!
While I look forward to easier times, I am cognizant of being truly grateful for the years I've been "in spiritual school," maybe this time for a spiritual post-doc.
Sunday, October 20, 2013
BEing the Nature of God
Back in the day when I owned an automobile, I enjoyed taking road trips. As I drove alone down the highway, I often slipped into repeating a mantra or affirmation of something I wanted to bring into my life. I would repeat it hundreds of times during my trip. What was quite remarkable was how often a deeper level of understanding would just gently float into my awareness during the repetitions--Aha! moments.
I really don't remember what the mantra that generated it was, but I do recall having a thought toward the end of a trip about 15 years ago that continues to both inspire and terrify me. The thought was that the only way humans have to experience God is through each other. If we want others to know God's Love, we need to demonstrate it to them: they will know it through our behaviors. If we want others to know God's Forgiveness, we need to demonstrate it to them: they will know it through our behaviors. God Nature is reflected through each of us to all human kind.
What a concept! That I could allow everyone with whom I come in touch to experience God by how I relate to them is inspiring me. I hope that it is equally clear why that is so terrifying. As much as I try, I know the frequency with which my behaviors reflect what I want others to know of God isn't near what I would like it to be. I think that I am usually a good person, but I do get irritable and impatient from time to time. Perhaps even more embarrassing is how much of my life proceeds on autopilot. I'd hate to think that God puts us on autopilot. Even more uncomfortable for me, the author of a book about "BEing" is how often I "do" things with people instead of "BE" with them.
Since retyping The Game Called Life a couple weeks ago, this whole thing about BEing the Nature of God has been with me. What "floated in" today is not how I reflect God (though for me that is still a concern,) but how I receive God from others. In my autopiloting through life what wonders that God wanted to share with me have I blown off because I wasn't paying attention. In my "doingness" how often have I missed the opportunity to "just BE" with God through another human being who is reflecting the nature of God.
Today I have new understanding of the Sanskrit greeting--"Namaste," still used in India and Nepal. "I bow to the God within you." When I bow to the God within you, and you bow to the God within me, it is said, "We are One." What if I just took responsibility both to be a reflection of the Nature of God and to be present to the reflection of the Nature of God in those around me? What a ripple I could create.
I really don't remember what the mantra that generated it was, but I do recall having a thought toward the end of a trip about 15 years ago that continues to both inspire and terrify me. The thought was that the only way humans have to experience God is through each other. If we want others to know God's Love, we need to demonstrate it to them: they will know it through our behaviors. If we want others to know God's Forgiveness, we need to demonstrate it to them: they will know it through our behaviors. God Nature is reflected through each of us to all human kind.
What a concept! That I could allow everyone with whom I come in touch to experience God by how I relate to them is inspiring me. I hope that it is equally clear why that is so terrifying. As much as I try, I know the frequency with which my behaviors reflect what I want others to know of God isn't near what I would like it to be. I think that I am usually a good person, but I do get irritable and impatient from time to time. Perhaps even more embarrassing is how much of my life proceeds on autopilot. I'd hate to think that God puts us on autopilot. Even more uncomfortable for me, the author of a book about "BEing" is how often I "do" things with people instead of "BE" with them.
Since retyping The Game Called Life a couple weeks ago, this whole thing about BEing the Nature of God has been with me. What "floated in" today is not how I reflect God (though for me that is still a concern,) but how I receive God from others. In my autopiloting through life what wonders that God wanted to share with me have I blown off because I wasn't paying attention. In my "doingness" how often have I missed the opportunity to "just BE" with God through another human being who is reflecting the nature of God.
Today I have new understanding of the Sanskrit greeting--"Namaste," still used in India and Nepal. "I bow to the God within you." When I bow to the God within you, and you bow to the God within me, it is said, "We are One." What if I just took responsibility both to be a reflection of the Nature of God and to be present to the reflection of the Nature of God in those around me? What a ripple I could create.
Saturday, October 19, 2013
Pinpricks in My Integrity
When the government closed on the first of October, I pledged that I was using my furlough to reboot my life. I was going to meditate, exercise, and write daily, and I was going to give up sugar. I've done well on the meditation, writing, and exercise (except for one very rainy day.) The sugar has been a real struggle. It's not that sugar is such a bad thing...for most people. For me, sugar is an addiction. Just a little bit and I have to have more: it controls me. It is a slippery slope.
A week ago I made and took a chocolate cake to another function, and I ate it when it was served. There have been other "little cheats." It is the 19th, and I made brownies. I will take them to a function I am attending tomorrow, but I knew when I decided to make them that I'd lick beaters and need to sample to make sure they tasted OK. I lied to myself. In The Game Called Life Lizzie called them pinpricks in her integrity--miniscule lies that we tell ourselves to justify other lies, and, as she continued to say, "I have enough pinpricks in my integrity that if they were all put together they would be as big as the hole in the Titanic."
I debated a friend once about whether it was out of integrity to exceed the speed limit, even if everyone else is driving five miles over the limit too. My argument was that when I applied for a driver's license, I had agreed to obey the laws of the state. That included driving the speed limit, even if almost everyone else was speeding.
Driving the speed limit is a no-brainer for me. I really attempt to act in integrity all the time. I even moved into a house once that already had cable connected, and the former owners had been getting cable service for years without paying for it. I knew it was stealing from the cable company to take the service without paying for it. I went to the cable company, explained the situation, and said I wanted to start paying for it. That was a no-brainer for me, too.
Integrity is the very most important thing to me, and I know that I have not always been in such deep integrity. Yet I really try. I've wrestled with my addiction to sugar for my integrity for years. I'd like to think we all have an Achilles heel--something that nags at us painfully. It really doesn't matter if everyone has something. What matters is that I keep my own commitment to myself.
When I cut the brownies up and put them in a container to take to my function, I started to hold back two, cut in half. I was going to put them in the freezer, and I would have four little desserts I could bring out. That is when I started thinking about the pinpricks in my integrity. I added a second tier to my potluck container and put the ones I was going to hold back in it. I am holding nothing back in this fight.
That brings me back to forgiveness. I slip...on sugar, and on other things. In each moment I face a choice point--a point in time when I am conscious, when I can forgive myself, and when I can start over--choosing to be in integrity. When I tune in to my heart, I know that being in that choice point and choosing consciously, whether it is a 100 times or a 1,000 or 10,000, is how I will galvanize my integrity.
A week ago I made and took a chocolate cake to another function, and I ate it when it was served. There have been other "little cheats." It is the 19th, and I made brownies. I will take them to a function I am attending tomorrow, but I knew when I decided to make them that I'd lick beaters and need to sample to make sure they tasted OK. I lied to myself. In The Game Called Life Lizzie called them pinpricks in her integrity--miniscule lies that we tell ourselves to justify other lies, and, as she continued to say, "I have enough pinpricks in my integrity that if they were all put together they would be as big as the hole in the Titanic."
I debated a friend once about whether it was out of integrity to exceed the speed limit, even if everyone else is driving five miles over the limit too. My argument was that when I applied for a driver's license, I had agreed to obey the laws of the state. That included driving the speed limit, even if almost everyone else was speeding.
Driving the speed limit is a no-brainer for me. I really attempt to act in integrity all the time. I even moved into a house once that already had cable connected, and the former owners had been getting cable service for years without paying for it. I knew it was stealing from the cable company to take the service without paying for it. I went to the cable company, explained the situation, and said I wanted to start paying for it. That was a no-brainer for me, too.
Integrity is the very most important thing to me, and I know that I have not always been in such deep integrity. Yet I really try. I've wrestled with my addiction to sugar for my integrity for years. I'd like to think we all have an Achilles heel--something that nags at us painfully. It really doesn't matter if everyone has something. What matters is that I keep my own commitment to myself.
When I cut the brownies up and put them in a container to take to my function, I started to hold back two, cut in half. I was going to put them in the freezer, and I would have four little desserts I could bring out. That is when I started thinking about the pinpricks in my integrity. I added a second tier to my potluck container and put the ones I was going to hold back in it. I am holding nothing back in this fight.
That brings me back to forgiveness. I slip...on sugar, and on other things. In each moment I face a choice point--a point in time when I am conscious, when I can forgive myself, and when I can start over--choosing to be in integrity. When I tune in to my heart, I know that being in that choice point and choosing consciously, whether it is a 100 times or a 1,000 or 10,000, is how I will galvanize my integrity.
Saturday, October 12, 2013
What Does It Mean to be a Friend?
Today I have been in intense exploration of the question, "What does it mean to be a friend?" Although I say "today," because today it has been very focused, I believe that I've been playing with this question for almost a week. Last Sunday I watched Brene Brown on OWN's Lifeclass. She is a prominent researcher on "vulnerability" and "shame." She said that in a lifetime, we should count ourselves lucky to have one or two friends with whom we can totally share who we are--to whom we can open our hearts, and they are willing to just empathize with us. She calls it opening our "arena" to that person and letting them in to our vulnerability.
"Wow!" I thought. One or two in a life time. I must be very fortunate indeed with so many friends. That is when the pondering began. I have people I do things with. I have people I turn to for spirited discourse. I have people that I strategize with. I have people I know I can depend on and who know they can depend on me. But, do I truly have people in my life that I can totally open my heart to and with whom I can share my "shame"? Do I have people who can just sit there and be with me and ride through it with me without trying to "fix" me or somehow move me around my vulnerability? I am not sure that I do...and I have a really evolved group of friends, well populated from the "helping professions."
I am a staunch believer in when I am pointing my finger at others, I should notice three other fingers pointing back at me. So I noticed. Could I really sit with one of my "friends" and ride with them into their shame and vulnerability? I'd like to think that I could, but the truth is that I am more likely to help them reframe, excuse, justify, strategize, or encourage than to just sit with them in their vulnerability.
Have I unconsciously invited a group of people into my life that could function with me at a superficial level because that is my comfort zone? They don't show their vulnerability, and I don't show my own, and we can safely avoid the discomfort of just being empathetic with each other. That hurts. But, what to do about it? Do I need new people? I hope not. Can I change the fundamental nature of my relationship with the people in my lives? I hope so, but wonder.
I am tired of hiding behind a wall that I've built to keep others from knowing who I am in my heart, and I am terrified at coming from behind the wall. But the wall is built of stuff I need to forgive myself and others for. The wall is built of the past and keeps me from the present. The wall is what keeps me from being fully who I am. What I know in my heart is that if I can find the courage to come behind the wall, "my people" will be there for me. The question for me is can I forgive, be in the present, and be fully who I am? Now that is the question.
"Wow!" I thought. One or two in a life time. I must be very fortunate indeed with so many friends. That is when the pondering began. I have people I do things with. I have people I turn to for spirited discourse. I have people that I strategize with. I have people I know I can depend on and who know they can depend on me. But, do I truly have people in my life that I can totally open my heart to and with whom I can share my "shame"? Do I have people who can just sit there and be with me and ride through it with me without trying to "fix" me or somehow move me around my vulnerability? I am not sure that I do...and I have a really evolved group of friends, well populated from the "helping professions."
I am a staunch believer in when I am pointing my finger at others, I should notice three other fingers pointing back at me. So I noticed. Could I really sit with one of my "friends" and ride with them into their shame and vulnerability? I'd like to think that I could, but the truth is that I am more likely to help them reframe, excuse, justify, strategize, or encourage than to just sit with them in their vulnerability.
Have I unconsciously invited a group of people into my life that could function with me at a superficial level because that is my comfort zone? They don't show their vulnerability, and I don't show my own, and we can safely avoid the discomfort of just being empathetic with each other. That hurts. But, what to do about it? Do I need new people? I hope not. Can I change the fundamental nature of my relationship with the people in my lives? I hope so, but wonder.
I am tired of hiding behind a wall that I've built to keep others from knowing who I am in my heart, and I am terrified at coming from behind the wall. But the wall is built of stuff I need to forgive myself and others for. The wall is built of the past and keeps me from the present. The wall is what keeps me from being fully who I am. What I know in my heart is that if I can find the courage to come behind the wall, "my people" will be there for me. The question for me is can I forgive, be in the present, and be fully who I am? Now that is the question.
Friday, October 11, 2013
What is Surrendering the Past...Really?
During this morning's meditation, the thought of surrendering the past continued to be with me. What does it really mean to surrender the past? Then, it was there as clear as a "Duh!" moment. Surrendering the past is total forgiveness. We can only harbor anger and resentment or shame, guilt, and self-blame in the past because in the present only love exists.
For many years, I ended my meditation with the words, "Help me to raise the level of love on the planet today." My focus was always on the love rather than what separates us from love. I now see that there is nothing more I could do that would raise the level of love in our world than surrender the past and with it allow total forgiveness.
For many years, I ended my meditation with the words, "Help me to raise the level of love on the planet today." My focus was always on the love rather than what separates us from love. I now see that there is nothing more I could do that would raise the level of love in our world than surrender the past and with it allow total forgiveness.
Sunday, October 6, 2013
Spiritual discipline
I know that I said yesterday that today I was going to write about what happens when I don't ask and/or don't listen to my guidance. However, my guidance today was to write something different.
Today a passage of scripture from the Christian New Testament Gospel of Luke (17:1-4) guided worship. At the beginning of the passage, The Teacher talks about forgiveness. The lesson says that if someone transgresses against us even as many as seven times in a day and asks for forgiveness that we are to forgive them.
A couple days ago I wrote about doing the first two parts of a forgiveness exercise. I forgave those that I felt I needed to forgive, but I am certain that several of them would not have asked for forgiveness. Yet, I have forgiven them, and that I am not carrying resentment any longer is a gift for me. I also meditationally asked others for forgiveness. Since I was asking, I assume that qualifies me for forgiveness.
In each of those exercises what was amazing was that as soon as forgiveness was given either way, there would be a wave of positive memories about that person, which the lack of forgiveness had blocked. As I worked through the list, my heart felt more and more full. I realize that the lesson today really was about opening our hearts. No matter how many times that we must forgive, doing so is a gift we give ourselves--the gift of the open heart.
What I haven't written about was the third part of the exercise, which I completed a day later. The third column was comprised of things for which I needed to forgive myself. As I thought about that list this morning, I recalled the impatience I felt about needing to forgive myself for the umpteenth time for not asking for guidance before I did something, not following the guidance I got, or following the guidance when it was so delinquent that it no longer had efficacy.
It is much easier for me to forgive people who have done some pretty nasty things to me than it was to forgive myself. Many of the times that I'd forgotten to check in with my heart occurred months or years apart. Could I forgive myself seven times in a day?
The word "discipline" derives from the Greek for "disciple" which means "student." A spiritual discipline implies that it is our way of learning to be closer to our spirits. For me, that means following what is written on my heart and messaged to me through listening to my heart.
I realize that I have an unduly harsh standard for myself when it comes to being a spiritual student. Somehow, even though I know we are all beginners, I expect myself to be perfect. However, the word "sin" was an archery term which meant the archer missed the bulls-eye: missed the mark. The implication was that the archer needed to adjust his/her aim. "Sin" isn't an arbitrary standard of judgment but rather a teaching term about how to get it better--not perfect--the next time. That is what a spiritual discipline is about: aiming over and again until we hit the mark.
Now I realize that I did end up writing about what happens when I didn't follow my guidance, but it hasn't ended up looking like I expected. That is what happens when we listen to the wisdom of our hearts.
Yes, I have failed to ask for guidance from my heart, and I have failed to follow in a timely way. The results weren't as rewarding as those I wrote about yesterday and hundreds of other stories I could have written. AND, I have aimed again. Now, I will recall that I should have forgive me...even seven times a day, if needed.
Ahhh!
Today a passage of scripture from the Christian New Testament Gospel of Luke (17:1-4) guided worship. At the beginning of the passage, The Teacher talks about forgiveness. The lesson says that if someone transgresses against us even as many as seven times in a day and asks for forgiveness that we are to forgive them.
A couple days ago I wrote about doing the first two parts of a forgiveness exercise. I forgave those that I felt I needed to forgive, but I am certain that several of them would not have asked for forgiveness. Yet, I have forgiven them, and that I am not carrying resentment any longer is a gift for me. I also meditationally asked others for forgiveness. Since I was asking, I assume that qualifies me for forgiveness.
In each of those exercises what was amazing was that as soon as forgiveness was given either way, there would be a wave of positive memories about that person, which the lack of forgiveness had blocked. As I worked through the list, my heart felt more and more full. I realize that the lesson today really was about opening our hearts. No matter how many times that we must forgive, doing so is a gift we give ourselves--the gift of the open heart.
What I haven't written about was the third part of the exercise, which I completed a day later. The third column was comprised of things for which I needed to forgive myself. As I thought about that list this morning, I recalled the impatience I felt about needing to forgive myself for the umpteenth time for not asking for guidance before I did something, not following the guidance I got, or following the guidance when it was so delinquent that it no longer had efficacy.
It is much easier for me to forgive people who have done some pretty nasty things to me than it was to forgive myself. Many of the times that I'd forgotten to check in with my heart occurred months or years apart. Could I forgive myself seven times in a day?
The word "discipline" derives from the Greek for "disciple" which means "student." A spiritual discipline implies that it is our way of learning to be closer to our spirits. For me, that means following what is written on my heart and messaged to me through listening to my heart.
I realize that I have an unduly harsh standard for myself when it comes to being a spiritual student. Somehow, even though I know we are all beginners, I expect myself to be perfect. However, the word "sin" was an archery term which meant the archer missed the bulls-eye: missed the mark. The implication was that the archer needed to adjust his/her aim. "Sin" isn't an arbitrary standard of judgment but rather a teaching term about how to get it better--not perfect--the next time. That is what a spiritual discipline is about: aiming over and again until we hit the mark.
Now I realize that I did end up writing about what happens when I didn't follow my guidance, but it hasn't ended up looking like I expected. That is what happens when we listen to the wisdom of our hearts.
Yes, I have failed to ask for guidance from my heart, and I have failed to follow in a timely way. The results weren't as rewarding as those I wrote about yesterday and hundreds of other stories I could have written. AND, I have aimed again. Now, I will recall that I should have forgive me...even seven times a day, if needed.
Ahhh!
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Forgiveness
Meditation truly is a gift I give myself. This morning I took my 20 minutes and extended it by 30. I was wrestling with understanding what is Truth. As I went deeper and deeper, the contradictions became more intense and then they melted away.
I have written previously about the several spiritual statements or affirmations that I recently adopted. This morning as I meditated I found myself lingering on one: "Forgiveness is how I return to God/Love." I thought I'd forgiven those in my life for what they'd done to me. Then the questions came. Have I really forgiven if I still carry resentment? Have I really forgiven if I still guard myself or am wary? Of course not.
Then I attempted to forgive; I wanted to get to the place where I could feel nothing but unconditional love. As I went deeper, I found that in each of the two relationships I lingered with I had accountability. Hmmpf. :-) Did I not know this part?
For several years I provided spiritual coaching in three-day, one-on-one intentional living intensives. Each was unique to the person with whom I was working, and my guides would give me unique coaching questions and exercises for that person. Most were used only once. However, for most a similar exercise on forgiveness was given to me. It always involved three levels of forgiveness: acts which the client needed to forgive others for, acts for which the client needed to ask for forgiveness, and acts for which the client needed to forgive him- or herself. Finally, we'd explore the gifts that had resulted from hurtful circumstances.
As I meditated on forgiveness this morning, these three levels kept intertwining. Back and forth, I went from offering forgiveness to asking for forgiveness to forgiving myself and back again. Then I drifted deeper. I'd written two books on fear and courage: were fear and courage not really about forgiveness? If there were always gifts, why would I not have courage? Why would I be afraid?
Almost when I felt like I'd gotten to the bottom of understanding the relationship between fear and courage and forgiveness, I found myself going broader. I've always thought that my purpose was to help people find the place of pure Love that dwells inside themselves and connect to the place of pure Love that dwells in each of their fellow human beings. When I had been meditating on my new affirmations a few weeks ago, what had come was that my purpose was the forgiveness of all human kind. I thought I'd just go with it since that is what came, but thought my real purpose was connect us to and through Love.
Only this morning in this meditation did I realize that they were the same. Only this morning did I realize that the reason the forgiveness exercise was always given to me for clients while other exercises were unique was that my purpose was forgiveness. These clients wouldn't have been brought to me if they didn't need to learn forgiveness. The Aha! moment for me was that forgiveness is my gateway to Love; it is the gateway through which I lead others to find pure Love. Without forgiveness, we will never find that place in ourselves where we are Love, and we certainly will never find that place in others where they are pure Love.
This knowing didn't come printed on bulletin boards: it came from listening to what I know in my heart. This wisdom came because I showed up to listen and floated through lots of clutter to the crystal clarity of what I know.
I have written previously about the several spiritual statements or affirmations that I recently adopted. This morning as I meditated I found myself lingering on one: "Forgiveness is how I return to God/Love." I thought I'd forgiven those in my life for what they'd done to me. Then the questions came. Have I really forgiven if I still carry resentment? Have I really forgiven if I still guard myself or am wary? Of course not.
Then I attempted to forgive; I wanted to get to the place where I could feel nothing but unconditional love. As I went deeper, I found that in each of the two relationships I lingered with I had accountability. Hmmpf. :-) Did I not know this part?
For several years I provided spiritual coaching in three-day, one-on-one intentional living intensives. Each was unique to the person with whom I was working, and my guides would give me unique coaching questions and exercises for that person. Most were used only once. However, for most a similar exercise on forgiveness was given to me. It always involved three levels of forgiveness: acts which the client needed to forgive others for, acts for which the client needed to ask for forgiveness, and acts for which the client needed to forgive him- or herself. Finally, we'd explore the gifts that had resulted from hurtful circumstances.
As I meditated on forgiveness this morning, these three levels kept intertwining. Back and forth, I went from offering forgiveness to asking for forgiveness to forgiving myself and back again. Then I drifted deeper. I'd written two books on fear and courage: were fear and courage not really about forgiveness? If there were always gifts, why would I not have courage? Why would I be afraid?
Almost when I felt like I'd gotten to the bottom of understanding the relationship between fear and courage and forgiveness, I found myself going broader. I've always thought that my purpose was to help people find the place of pure Love that dwells inside themselves and connect to the place of pure Love that dwells in each of their fellow human beings. When I had been meditating on my new affirmations a few weeks ago, what had come was that my purpose was the forgiveness of all human kind. I thought I'd just go with it since that is what came, but thought my real purpose was connect us to and through Love.
Only this morning in this meditation did I realize that they were the same. Only this morning did I realize that the reason the forgiveness exercise was always given to me for clients while other exercises were unique was that my purpose was forgiveness. These clients wouldn't have been brought to me if they didn't need to learn forgiveness. The Aha! moment for me was that forgiveness is my gateway to Love; it is the gateway through which I lead others to find pure Love. Without forgiveness, we will never find that place in ourselves where we are Love, and we certainly will never find that place in others where they are pure Love.
This knowing didn't come printed on bulletin boards: it came from listening to what I know in my heart. This wisdom came because I showed up to listen and floated through lots of clutter to the crystal clarity of what I know.
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