A young man sits talking with his pastor before his marriage. "How do you know?" he inquires. Like many people about to marry, they want to make sure this is the right one because the decision will inevitably change their lives in some, probably many, ways. The pastor gives him some signs, but mostly says, "You just know."
Not unlike the young man about to marry, over the years many of my friends and clients have asked me about the guidance I receive. "How do you know?" some ask. "How do you get it?" others want to know.
Yesterday in a meandering conversation with a former Intentional Living Intensive client, now friend, we wandered into the topic. This time it was me attempting to establish parameters for myself. My most important guidance, or what I assume to be my most important, has usually been boldly clear to me, and many times it has been the response to a simple question. Often a booming voice spoke to me in a bold but loving way.
When I knew that it was time for me to leave Eugene, Oregon, 22 years ago, I stated simply, "I want a more friendly environment in which to live. I asked, "Where would you have me go?" Instantly, I received the names of three cities "you should explore." Over the next 18 hours, I received six "signs" about the Research Triangle Area of North Carolina. The last was a banner headline of my Oregon newspaper, which read: "Raleigh/Durham named best place to live."
Almost a decade after settling into my home in Durham, N.C., I found myself writing the words, "You are to move to Washington, D.C." while I was journaling. I tried to ignore them. I liked living in N.C. I had never considered living in Washington, what to me seemed like a "big city." I had usually lived in smaller cities and just didn't have a clue how to move into a city that I didn't know, without a job, and knowing almost no one. The prospect was overwhelming.
Other times I've gotten repeated guidance that I wasn't excited about receiving, and it has persisted. Over a couple of years, I had frequently gotten guidance to take a month-long pilgrimage to a place where English wasn't the dominant language, make no plans, take very little cash and no credit cards. I would be guided I was told. I wasn't ready. Finally, on a flight between two islands in Greece at the end of a physically exhausting conference, the bold voice was there again, this time tinged with more than a little impatience.
The message was the same except for a couple details to take the wiggle room out for me. "You are to return to Greece within three months for a pilgrimage. You are to make no plans, take very little cash and no credit cards." The open-endedness of previous guidance was erased by very specific place and time frames. I did receive two very small details over the intervening three months, but mostly I went with little more than initially directed. It was a wonderful, growthful, and insightful exploration. I will never be the same.
Insights haven't always been of the life-changing kinds, like moving across the country or going to an expensive tourist country with no credit cards and very little cash. On one of my open-ended vacations a few years later, as the day was growing toward an end, I said to my travel partner, "I wonder where we should stop." Within 1/4 of a mile, a large billboard stated simply in foot-high letters, "This is your place." It was.
Although it has been a long time since I had one, I used to occasionally, I have what I call a "cosmic marquee." Like a theatre marquee, a message for me is highlighted by flashing lights around it. The "cosmic marquee" seems to be reserved for really big messages.
Whether big or small, much of my guidance has been very specific. However, other times, it has been subtler. When I find myself having the same conversation with several clients in the same day or two, I believe that to probably be a sign that I should give the topic some inner reflection. When I have done so, it has usually ended up being dead-on for me.
Other times, words just come out of my mouth as if I didn't know the source but was keenly aware it was my mouth that was moving. In the years just after my first two books came out, I did a lot of keynoting, and because I was being paid very well, I always dutifully wrote my speeches in advance. But once I started speaking, other words came out. At some point, I started a file called, "Speeches I never gave." I've also found myself asking coaching clients questions that meant nothing to me, but were spot-on for the recipient.
Yesterday's conversation went in a different way, though. We talked about the even subtler forms of guidance. A hunch. An explained desire to do something I've never done. My intuition? Maybe my insatiable quest for adventure?
Recently, I've had the urge to get on a Greyhound bus and travel across the northern part of the US...in January. Really?! Our wind-chill factor in Washington today is 2 degrees Fahrenheit, and I don't even want to go near a window much less travel across the breadth of the country in places that often get much colder than this. This isn't a lingering desire I've suppressed that is emerging from the depths of my psyche. Although I've often jumped on a bus for travel in Europe, I've never even considered going anywhere on a bus in this country.
Is that guidance, I wondered to my client/friend? I do know that timing is critically important when following guidance. Not unlike the Butterfly Effect, which describes the flapping of the wings of a butterfly in New Mexico causing a hurricane in China, there are a lot of moving parts in God's world. God knows the plan, but the rest of us don't get the site map.
Let's say I am supposed to bump into someone at a truck stop near Fargo, North Dakota, on January 25. I have to take the bus because if I was driving, it is a place I wouldn't stop. The encounter may be brief, maybe totally unmemorable. In the course of a casual conversation, say with a waitress while ordering lunch, I say something that makes her understand an aspect of her life differently. We don't talk about going back to college or moving to Arizona, but there is something that is said that makes her connect to doing those things. As a result of those bold moves, she makes a discovery in her research that alters the course of humankind.
If I didn't leave until weather is more pleasant in spring, I don't make that connection, which means that a conversation we may have had never happens. Following guidance isn't like using God as your personal travel agent. It is very precisely about allowing God to change the world through you.
Think about Moses saying to God that he doesn't want to go that way because there's no way to get around the sea. How could he have known? He just followed his guidance.
So, back to the question, "How do you know?" As I sit in my apartment contemplating whether I want to walk half a block in this weather to get to a car to go to a dance tonight, I ponder, "Do I really want to get on a bus and travel across the northern US?" It is a question heavy on my heart. My intention is to make the world a better place, and if this is guidance, I would do almost anything to do my part. Yet, what if this isn't guidance, and traveling on a bus in January is really a fool's errand I'd rather avoid? How do I know?
I will meditate on this more...and ask simple questions. In the end, I will trust that with my intentions clear, I will know in my heart what I am to do.
Showing posts with label guidance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label guidance. Show all posts
Sunday, January 8, 2017
Friday, October 3, 2014
Finding Peace in the Chaos
I pondered what is "guidance," as I arrived on this meditational journey. Was it the inner whisperings I heard from within to go to the Peloponnese? Was it messages from four people immediately before my journey that I should go to Santorini and Crete? Was it something I'd found in a file from my last journey to Greece 16 years earlier, which particularly resonated with me now? The answer I believe is "yes."
I found important lessons in Peloponnese. I learned a lot from listening at other places. Perhaps the most surprising have been the lessons learned on Santorini. When each of the friends who advised I come here did so, I always said I liked to avoid tourist places. The answer was always that I must come here. So I did.
I admit that I was more than a little grouchy upon my arrival yesterday. I don't believe I've ever been to a more touristy spot. There was literally not a thing that spoke of integrity with the local region. Most infuriating was the perfect English all about me. Was I in Greece or a local Greek cafe in Washington?
I was immediately convinced that this most photographed place in Greece had only been accomplished by excellent cropping of photos. That would have been the only way not to include unabashed tourist-mongering.
Yet, I was sure I was sent here. How could any wise guide have brought me to such a place, I had asked in my prayer time this morning?
The answer was immediate and clear: find peace and stillness amidst the chaos. That would be a challenge. But I set about to find it.
My guidebook purported three nearby towns which required enough effort to find that only the most determined of guests attempted. Then over breakfast I found a boat trip to out-islands. I booked for tomorrow.
As I hiked to other towns, I was surprised at how quickly the noise of the maddening crowds quieted. In Imerovigli I found a small chapel where I sat for some time. I had truly found peace in the silence.
Just as I had that thought, I heard the Universe laughing at me with the challenge to find peace IN the chaos not withdrawn from it. I chuckled. There are still more ways to find peace in the chaos. The hardest lay ahead: surrounded by the tourists and the hockers.
What echoes in my mind is the parallel with traditional meditation when the mind spins, and the meditator is challenged to still the mind and find peace. It is the same lesson. I am not sure that one ever ends for most of us.
After a lunch break away from that maddening crowd, I am now ready to move to the next lesson: find peace IN the chaos.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
I found important lessons in Peloponnese. I learned a lot from listening at other places. Perhaps the most surprising have been the lessons learned on Santorini. When each of the friends who advised I come here did so, I always said I liked to avoid tourist places. The answer was always that I must come here. So I did.
I admit that I was more than a little grouchy upon my arrival yesterday. I don't believe I've ever been to a more touristy spot. There was literally not a thing that spoke of integrity with the local region. Most infuriating was the perfect English all about me. Was I in Greece or a local Greek cafe in Washington?
I was immediately convinced that this most photographed place in Greece had only been accomplished by excellent cropping of photos. That would have been the only way not to include unabashed tourist-mongering.
Yet, I was sure I was sent here. How could any wise guide have brought me to such a place, I had asked in my prayer time this morning?
The answer was immediate and clear: find peace and stillness amidst the chaos. That would be a challenge. But I set about to find it.
My guidebook purported three nearby towns which required enough effort to find that only the most determined of guests attempted. Then over breakfast I found a boat trip to out-islands. I booked for tomorrow.
As I hiked to other towns, I was surprised at how quickly the noise of the maddening crowds quieted. In Imerovigli I found a small chapel where I sat for some time. I had truly found peace in the silence.
Just as I had that thought, I heard the Universe laughing at me with the challenge to find peace IN the chaos not withdrawn from it. I chuckled. There are still more ways to find peace in the chaos. The hardest lay ahead: surrounded by the tourists and the hockers.
What echoes in my mind is the parallel with traditional meditation when the mind spins, and the meditator is challenged to still the mind and find peace. It is the same lesson. I am not sure that one ever ends for most of us.
After a lunch break away from that maddening crowd, I am now ready to move to the next lesson: find peace IN the chaos.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Monday, September 29, 2014
Listening Deeply
Readers: please note that this post should have been posted early. My challenges with technology resulted in it laying in drafts. I hope it will provide continuity to this current pilgrimage that may have been missing.
From sometime in 1995 or 1996 until June 1998, I frequently heard messages in my meditations that I should go to a country in which English was not a dominant language. I was to take no credit cards and very little cash. I was to take one carry-on bag and to follow where I was led. Mostly, I ignored.
Those were days when I was writing and generating more outflow than income. Even though I was to take little cash and no credit cards, I thought I couldn't afford such a venture.
In June of 1998 I worked a conference in Greece--very, very long hours. After four days, the conference moved from Athens to the Greek island of Rhodes late at night. I was fatigued and almost immediately fell asleep. Suddenly, I was awakened by a booming voice. It repeated the messages I'd been getting, but this time with more specificity. "You are to come back to Greece before summer's end...with little cash and no credit cards." More details followed.
Awakened from a deep sleep, I sat bolt up in my plane seat. Looking around at a sea of sleeping passengers, I was shocked that I appeared to be the only one awakened by the commanding voice.
Really?!
I got it. When I returned from my business trip, I immediately made air reservations to return for 30 days, the minimum time for which I'd been directed. I'd been given a number of other details, to which I rendered complete attention. The rest amounted to nothing less than a mystical adventure, much more of which will be detailed in my memoir. Suffice it to say, I've never been the same since that journey.
In early spring of this year, I was exhausted and began shopping for a trip. I am a bargain/adventure traveler, since 1998 most often traveling to a foreign airport and going wherever spirit leads. For weeks I shopped travel sites, looking for bargain air fares. In at least two months, the best fares kept coming up to Athens.
I wasn't sure that I was ready for what another Greek adventure promised. Finally, I relented. As soon as I booked, a plethora of other destinations presented, so I was certain I was supposed to be in Greece again.
Three months ago I picked up two travel guides to Greece, but was totally uninterested in them until three weeks ago. Somehow I knew it would be clear to me where to go.
On more than one occasion, I've heard the big booming directive; those are easy for me to follow. Harder are the subtler signs. I've written at length about how guidance comes to us, but over the last several days, I've thought I was receiving contradictory messages. I talked with a friend about which was true. I prayed about it yet no clarity came.
I've written that when several people give similar advice, it is probably more than human advice. Four people have urged specifically that I go to Crete and Santorini. Those two islands from more than 300 Greek islands. Yet that just didn't seem right.
Then three weeks ago I found a note from a friend, written in 1998, urging me to go to Galaxidhi at that time. I swear that I don't remember ever seeing the note before. Was finding it now "a sign?" I went to the referenced website, but it didn't seem quite right either.
For several years, I've thought of going to the Peloponnese. Galaxidhi was close, but not quite right. When I read about the Peloponnese in my guide books, two little towns jumped off the pages. One of my friends, who had urged Crete and Santorini, told me I didn't want to go there. I have just let decisions go, being certain that "where" would be clear to me when I needed to know.
Friday I traveled to Athens. I don't sleep in planes so Saturday evening I fell into bed at 8, some 37 hours without sleep. I had no idea what was next, but as I fell asleep, I set the intention that I would know in the morning.
I awakened slightly at 6 this morning, long enough to "rest" myself and fall back asleep, but with no clarity yet as to where I was to go. At 10:15, after the long sleep for which my body yearned, I sat right up in bed, and in an instant I knew where I was to go: the two towns in the Peloponnese that I'd felt were right in the beginning.
I jumped up and looked in the guidebook for commuting details. I quickly gathered my things, got directions to the bus terminal, and sped off, arriving at my bus just 8 minutes before it departed.
After just a few hours here, I know this is right. I do not know what else awaits me on this peninsula-turned-island, but I know enough that I can feel in my bones that what I knew in my heart from the beginning is right. I literally "fell" into a little hotel with a lovely garden this afternoon shortly after arriving. I think I will extend for another day, but that won't be clear until morning. I'm OK with that.
As I surrender my need to know once again, I find an incredible freedom and relaxation. Without itinerary or schedules to meet, there is nothing to stress me. I need only be in the present. Earlier this evening, I truly enjoyed a marvelous meal, followed by a walk along the Argolic Gulf, as the sun slipped into the horizon. I chuckled at swimmers below me over the cliffs and wondered at the cacti, which were about to bloom so near the water. Absolutely nothing distracting me from the moment.
My intention as this new cycle begins is to open my heart and find intimacy and love. I guess those things begin being here, wherever I am. For now, that is where I am.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
From sometime in 1995 or 1996 until June 1998, I frequently heard messages in my meditations that I should go to a country in which English was not a dominant language. I was to take no credit cards and very little cash. I was to take one carry-on bag and to follow where I was led. Mostly, I ignored.
Those were days when I was writing and generating more outflow than income. Even though I was to take little cash and no credit cards, I thought I couldn't afford such a venture.
In June of 1998 I worked a conference in Greece--very, very long hours. After four days, the conference moved from Athens to the Greek island of Rhodes late at night. I was fatigued and almost immediately fell asleep. Suddenly, I was awakened by a booming voice. It repeated the messages I'd been getting, but this time with more specificity. "You are to come back to Greece before summer's end...with little cash and no credit cards." More details followed.
Awakened from a deep sleep, I sat bolt up in my plane seat. Looking around at a sea of sleeping passengers, I was shocked that I appeared to be the only one awakened by the commanding voice.
Really?!
I got it. When I returned from my business trip, I immediately made air reservations to return for 30 days, the minimum time for which I'd been directed. I'd been given a number of other details, to which I rendered complete attention. The rest amounted to nothing less than a mystical adventure, much more of which will be detailed in my memoir. Suffice it to say, I've never been the same since that journey.
In early spring of this year, I was exhausted and began shopping for a trip. I am a bargain/adventure traveler, since 1998 most often traveling to a foreign airport and going wherever spirit leads. For weeks I shopped travel sites, looking for bargain air fares. In at least two months, the best fares kept coming up to Athens.
I wasn't sure that I was ready for what another Greek adventure promised. Finally, I relented. As soon as I booked, a plethora of other destinations presented, so I was certain I was supposed to be in Greece again.
Three months ago I picked up two travel guides to Greece, but was totally uninterested in them until three weeks ago. Somehow I knew it would be clear to me where to go.
On more than one occasion, I've heard the big booming directive; those are easy for me to follow. Harder are the subtler signs. I've written at length about how guidance comes to us, but over the last several days, I've thought I was receiving contradictory messages. I talked with a friend about which was true. I prayed about it yet no clarity came.
I've written that when several people give similar advice, it is probably more than human advice. Four people have urged specifically that I go to Crete and Santorini. Those two islands from more than 300 Greek islands. Yet that just didn't seem right.
Then three weeks ago I found a note from a friend, written in 1998, urging me to go to Galaxidhi at that time. I swear that I don't remember ever seeing the note before. Was finding it now "a sign?" I went to the referenced website, but it didn't seem quite right either.
For several years, I've thought of going to the Peloponnese. Galaxidhi was close, but not quite right. When I read about the Peloponnese in my guide books, two little towns jumped off the pages. One of my friends, who had urged Crete and Santorini, told me I didn't want to go there. I have just let decisions go, being certain that "where" would be clear to me when I needed to know.
Friday I traveled to Athens. I don't sleep in planes so Saturday evening I fell into bed at 8, some 37 hours without sleep. I had no idea what was next, but as I fell asleep, I set the intention that I would know in the morning.
I awakened slightly at 6 this morning, long enough to "rest" myself and fall back asleep, but with no clarity yet as to where I was to go. At 10:15, after the long sleep for which my body yearned, I sat right up in bed, and in an instant I knew where I was to go: the two towns in the Peloponnese that I'd felt were right in the beginning.
I jumped up and looked in the guidebook for commuting details. I quickly gathered my things, got directions to the bus terminal, and sped off, arriving at my bus just 8 minutes before it departed.
After just a few hours here, I know this is right. I do not know what else awaits me on this peninsula-turned-island, but I know enough that I can feel in my bones that what I knew in my heart from the beginning is right. I literally "fell" into a little hotel with a lovely garden this afternoon shortly after arriving. I think I will extend for another day, but that won't be clear until morning. I'm OK with that.
As I surrender my need to know once again, I find an incredible freedom and relaxation. Without itinerary or schedules to meet, there is nothing to stress me. I need only be in the present. Earlier this evening, I truly enjoyed a marvelous meal, followed by a walk along the Argolic Gulf, as the sun slipped into the horizon. I chuckled at swimmers below me over the cliffs and wondered at the cacti, which were about to bloom so near the water. Absolutely nothing distracting me from the moment.
My intention as this new cycle begins is to open my heart and find intimacy and love. I guess those things begin being here, wherever I am. For now, that is where I am.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Sunday, November 10, 2013
Doing nothing is doing something
I have four days off this weekend, and I came into this time with several big decisions to make. After each decision comes a time-consuming and deadline-driven project. I needed this chunk of time my long weekend would have provided to do the associated projects. The decisions may be life-changing and certainly life-altering. These are not decisions I want to make with my head, but instead, I want to be guided by what I know in my heart.
In an earlier post I apologized for making it sound so easy to follow the wisdom of our hearts. Today I sit and so far nothing has come, and three days of my project time have passed. The closest I've gotten is to hear the words "You know in your heart" over and again. I am sure I do but I am having a very hard time getting enough clarity to translate into something that is actionable in the project world.
As I write this post what comes to me is that "doing nothing" can be "doing something." I believe there is wisdom in the I Ching about acting by not acting. Our action orientation makes us believe that if our hearts tell us something, it must be something we can act upon. I think my heart is telling me to do nothing right now.
In an earlier post I apologized for making it sound so easy to follow the wisdom of our hearts. Today I sit and so far nothing has come, and three days of my project time have passed. The closest I've gotten is to hear the words "You know in your heart" over and again. I am sure I do but I am having a very hard time getting enough clarity to translate into something that is actionable in the project world.
As I write this post what comes to me is that "doing nothing" can be "doing something." I believe there is wisdom in the I Ching about acting by not acting. Our action orientation makes us believe that if our hearts tell us something, it must be something we can act upon. I think my heart is telling me to do nothing right now.
Tuesday, November 5, 2013
Being led
Yesterday I wrote about some little miracles that happened to me last evening. I wasn't even finished before I was thinking of lots others. I could literally write a book about all of them, but highlights from a pilgrimage a few years ago simply tell the story of what can happen if we just get out of the way and allow ourselves to be led.
In June 1998, I was given very clear guidance about some things that I was supposed to do before fall. I had been in Greece to speak at a conference. On the short flight from Athens to a different meeting on Rhodes, I decided to meditate. With great force strong guidance came to me. In the preceding year, I had written my book Choice Point, and, in retrospect, I felt that following this guidance was my "training." I was going to be asked to do everything I'd written. Just totally surrender and allow myself to be led.
I was told to come back to Greece for a month long pilgrimage, but before I did, I was to travel from my home in North Carolina back to my old home towns in Oregon. I was specifically told to see three aging women, all of whom had been important to me "for they are not long for this world." I was puzzled, but followed as guided.
In July, I headed first to Eugene and then south to Medford and Prospect. I saw all three women, and while it was great to see them, quite frankly, they all seemed fine. At the end of August I left for a month in Greece. I had no itinerary, was told to take no credit cards, and very little cash. I was supposed to listen for guidance. The only guidance I received other than that was to "make my way to Thessaloniki," where I was to ask for the English-speaking priest for additional direction and to take four copies of the book. The guidance continued that it would be clear to me who was to receive them.
It was quite a journey, staying in what was then one of Europe's most expensive tourist destinations with $25/day for room, board, and everything else. Yet at every turn, someone would show up on my path with a place to stay or a good, but inexpensive place to stay or eat. I walked a lot and met remarkable people on the journey. About a week into my journey, I had guidance to call my house sitter. He told me that one of the three woman had been diagnosed with advance stage abdominal cancer and had died in just a few days. The second one would be gone in just a few months. The third began to be consumed by Alzheimer's disease. If I hadn't followed where I was led, I would have missed rich last time with each of them.
I made my way to Thessaloniki where I had an amazing experience with an English-speaking priest. Along the way, I had wonderful connections with people each of which taught me something for my spiritual journey. And, I travelled around the country with my four books for over three weeks. I have to say, I was beginning to have doubts, but everything else had gone so perfectly, that in my heart, I knew I would still be guided. With the first three copies, each time I just knew in the moment when it was the right person to receive a book.
The remarkable part of the "book distribution," however, came the last day of the trip. I was to lunch with a Greek-American business woman with whom I'd become acquainted when speaking at a business conference in the US the year before. That summer there had been a series of one-day strikes, and on my last day in Athens, the train operators were striking. The trains had been my way of getting around. Athens was in gridlock. Between buses and walking, I made my appointment. After lunch, I told her about my remaining book.
Loula was not a timid woman and seemed to know everyone in Athens intimately. She was one of those people who is "in charge," and nothing will get in her way when she is intent upon something. Loula directed me to the senior editor at a Greek women's magazine. She told me that he would be expecting me; however, she warned that the Rolling Stones were playing Athens for the first time in over two decades, and he had tickets. I must go there directly, and, oh, by the way, the publishing house was in a neighboring town outside of Athens. OK. The trains aren't running, and I still have to get my book. This is clearly out of my hands.
Loula walked out on the street where hundreds of people, abandoned by their trains, were fighting for an available taxi. She just walked up to one that was occupied, opened the door, said something to the driver and the other passengers, shoved me in, threw money at the driver, and slammed the door. I have no clue where I am going. My Greek wasn't good enough to communicate, so I just sheepishly slid back on the seat with a timid smile.
In 15 to 20 minutes, the taxi pulled up in front of the hostel where I was staying and let me out. As the button says, "That was easy!" It was about 4:30, and my contact would be leaving the office at 6. The man at the front desk had been very helpful previously about helping me with train connections. I told him what I needed to do. He looked at the clock skeptically, and said, "You know the trains are on strike." I smiled. He whispered, "There is a rumor that the trains will start running again at 5 because the train operators don't want to infuriate all the people who would miss the Stones concert if the trains aren't running." I was about 15 minutes from the station.
Bolting up the steps to my room two at a time, I headed for the book and a fast refresh. I was out the door in just a few minutes. I walked into the station at 4:58. At 5 p.m., the gates opened, and I jumped on the first train. I arrived at the small town where the publishing house was located and found my way about two blocks to the office. I had a lovely interview with the editor who gave me a nice goodie bag, and promptly at 6 p.m., he announced that he needed to leave for the concert.
While I can relate the events that occurred that afternoon in September 1998, I cannot find words to describe the experience. It was literally like being carried on an invisible flow with the ease of any unfolding miracle intent on me getting my book into this man's hands. There was quite literally no effort on my part. I just went where I was led. If any of these transition points hadn't gone perfectly, I wouldn't have had my interview, announcing Leading from the Heart to Greece. It happened with the ease of a miracle. Actually, the whole month in Greece happened with the ease of dozens of miracles.
Einstein once wrote, "There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." When I get out of the way and allow myself to be led, everything is a miracle.
In June 1998, I was given very clear guidance about some things that I was supposed to do before fall. I had been in Greece to speak at a conference. On the short flight from Athens to a different meeting on Rhodes, I decided to meditate. With great force strong guidance came to me. In the preceding year, I had written my book Choice Point, and, in retrospect, I felt that following this guidance was my "training." I was going to be asked to do everything I'd written. Just totally surrender and allow myself to be led.
I was told to come back to Greece for a month long pilgrimage, but before I did, I was to travel from my home in North Carolina back to my old home towns in Oregon. I was specifically told to see three aging women, all of whom had been important to me "for they are not long for this world." I was puzzled, but followed as guided.
In July, I headed first to Eugene and then south to Medford and Prospect. I saw all three women, and while it was great to see them, quite frankly, they all seemed fine. At the end of August I left for a month in Greece. I had no itinerary, was told to take no credit cards, and very little cash. I was supposed to listen for guidance. The only guidance I received other than that was to "make my way to Thessaloniki," where I was to ask for the English-speaking priest for additional direction and to take four copies of the book. The guidance continued that it would be clear to me who was to receive them.
It was quite a journey, staying in what was then one of Europe's most expensive tourist destinations with $25/day for room, board, and everything else. Yet at every turn, someone would show up on my path with a place to stay or a good, but inexpensive place to stay or eat. I walked a lot and met remarkable people on the journey. About a week into my journey, I had guidance to call my house sitter. He told me that one of the three woman had been diagnosed with advance stage abdominal cancer and had died in just a few days. The second one would be gone in just a few months. The third began to be consumed by Alzheimer's disease. If I hadn't followed where I was led, I would have missed rich last time with each of them.
I made my way to Thessaloniki where I had an amazing experience with an English-speaking priest. Along the way, I had wonderful connections with people each of which taught me something for my spiritual journey. And, I travelled around the country with my four books for over three weeks. I have to say, I was beginning to have doubts, but everything else had gone so perfectly, that in my heart, I knew I would still be guided. With the first three copies, each time I just knew in the moment when it was the right person to receive a book.
The remarkable part of the "book distribution," however, came the last day of the trip. I was to lunch with a Greek-American business woman with whom I'd become acquainted when speaking at a business conference in the US the year before. That summer there had been a series of one-day strikes, and on my last day in Athens, the train operators were striking. The trains had been my way of getting around. Athens was in gridlock. Between buses and walking, I made my appointment. After lunch, I told her about my remaining book.
Loula was not a timid woman and seemed to know everyone in Athens intimately. She was one of those people who is "in charge," and nothing will get in her way when she is intent upon something. Loula directed me to the senior editor at a Greek women's magazine. She told me that he would be expecting me; however, she warned that the Rolling Stones were playing Athens for the first time in over two decades, and he had tickets. I must go there directly, and, oh, by the way, the publishing house was in a neighboring town outside of Athens. OK. The trains aren't running, and I still have to get my book. This is clearly out of my hands.
Loula walked out on the street where hundreds of people, abandoned by their trains, were fighting for an available taxi. She just walked up to one that was occupied, opened the door, said something to the driver and the other passengers, shoved me in, threw money at the driver, and slammed the door. I have no clue where I am going. My Greek wasn't good enough to communicate, so I just sheepishly slid back on the seat with a timid smile.
In 15 to 20 minutes, the taxi pulled up in front of the hostel where I was staying and let me out. As the button says, "That was easy!" It was about 4:30, and my contact would be leaving the office at 6. The man at the front desk had been very helpful previously about helping me with train connections. I told him what I needed to do. He looked at the clock skeptically, and said, "You know the trains are on strike." I smiled. He whispered, "There is a rumor that the trains will start running again at 5 because the train operators don't want to infuriate all the people who would miss the Stones concert if the trains aren't running." I was about 15 minutes from the station.
Bolting up the steps to my room two at a time, I headed for the book and a fast refresh. I was out the door in just a few minutes. I walked into the station at 4:58. At 5 p.m., the gates opened, and I jumped on the first train. I arrived at the small town where the publishing house was located and found my way about two blocks to the office. I had a lovely interview with the editor who gave me a nice goodie bag, and promptly at 6 p.m., he announced that he needed to leave for the concert.
While I can relate the events that occurred that afternoon in September 1998, I cannot find words to describe the experience. It was literally like being carried on an invisible flow with the ease of any unfolding miracle intent on me getting my book into this man's hands. There was quite literally no effort on my part. I just went where I was led. If any of these transition points hadn't gone perfectly, I wouldn't have had my interview, announcing Leading from the Heart to Greece. It happened with the ease of a miracle. Actually, the whole month in Greece happened with the ease of dozens of miracles.
Einstein once wrote, "There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." When I get out of the way and allow myself to be led, everything is a miracle.
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!
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