I had minor surgery a couple of days ago and after a day of pretty much sleeping it off, I've been up to my ears in exploration--watching videos on YouTube and reading. Spiritual teacher Caroline Myss has said that when we find what we believe to be a spiritual truth, we should seek to find it elsewhere. She generally has in mind other religious traditions: Myss says key truths of most religions can be found in some manidestation in others, often several others.
My frame of reference for spirituality extends beyond religion, but with that said, I believe that when we find what we believe to be truth anywhere in the world, we will find it multiple places. As those who have been reading recently know, I've just finished my certification as a health coach, and this little post-surgery respite has given me the opportunity to start reading the stack of health-related books that have accumulated by my desk over several years. There's at least 80 per cent congruence (maybe more) between the content in all of them, and yet each brings a different nuance or something new.
What has continued to astound me has been the intersection between health and happiness. It doesn't surprise me at all that we are happier when we are healthier, but it seems to me that the things that we do to be healthier are the same things that we do to be happier. The causality may not be between health and happiness, but rather between a set of behaviors that cause us to be both healthier and happier.
My old friend "laughter" shows up a lot. Today I've been reading Blue Zones--9 Lessons for Living Longer from the people who've lived the longest, by Dan Buettner. The book is based on research he did for National Geographic on regions of the world where a disproportionate percentage of the population lives past 100. There's even a subset of the "blue zones": semi-supercentenarians--referring to regions with a disproportionate percentage of the population over 110. As he did his research, Buettner and his team traveled to often-remote regions to interview those over 100. I was struck by how often the centenarians burst out in laughter.
Laughter is a characteristic of both health and happiness. A couple of years ago when completing my certification to be a laughter yoga teacher, we were given a full page of benefits of laughter, most of them were health enhancements. For instance, one minute of laughter has the aerobic impact of 10 minutes on a rowing machine.
Dr. Martin Seligman, father of positive psychology/psychology of happiness, has said that lack of laughter is a challenge to the happiness of those who live alone because they don't laugh enough.
Spiritually, laughter is often observed in those who are truly "light." If you've ever watched a video or interview of His Holiness the Dalai Lama, you know that he often bursts out in contagious belly laughter.
It has been said that the road to Hell is paved by good intentions. When I set out to live my life with intention and to share my journey with others, it was specifically so that my life's intentions would not be squandered. My intentions are to have a life of health, happiness, and wholeness that will grow me spiritually.
Yet, despite knowing the benefits of laughter to health, happiness, and my spirit and my pathetic moaning and groaning about lack of laughter in my life, at least 18 months after completing my Laughter Yoga certification, I have yet to teach a single class. As I've been leaning into my transition, teaching Laughter Yoga (LY) must be part of my health coaching practice. Laughter is clearly a component of both health and happiness; it would seem it would be neglectful of me to omit it. I've just drug out my LY textbook, and I am throwing it into this soup I am making called "My Life as a Health Coach."
Showing posts with label healing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label healing. Show all posts
Saturday, February 25, 2017
Saturday, August 15, 2015
Remorse and Redemption
I just saw "Ricki and the Flash," Merryl Streep's new movie about a woman who abandons her three children and husband to pursue a career as a rock musician. Although Ricki attempts to put the family part of her life behind her, the hole in the center of her life gnaws at the edges of it, stealing her joy and capacity to love. In the end (no spoiler here) she is able to redeem herself.
During the 30-minute walk home from the movie the themes of remorse and redemption kept toying with me. I did a little research when I got home and kept bumping up against Khaled Hosseini's best selling novel The Kite Runner about the boy Amir who betrays his best friend Hassan. When his guilt gnaws at him, he attempts to assuage his pain with yet another duplicitous act.
Eventually, both Ricki and Amir find redemption and atonement. The word "atonement" has been broken to demonstrate its meaning as "at-onement." Atonement does imply a healing--a softening of the separation created by betrayal until we are able to be whole, both within ourselves and with the victim(s) of the act.
While I like to assuage my own guilt at pain I know I have caused by saying "I was doing the best I could with where I was at the time." But, is that enough? Twelve-step programs demand "making amends." In Amir's case, he is able to adopt Hassan's son after he has been orphaned. Ricki, too, finds a way to heal relationships. Neither can remove the pain caused, but each is able to bridge the gap caused by their acts.
As I walked this evening, I felt truly remorseful. I know that I haven't always been the easiest person to live with, and I have struggled with how to follow my heart without being selfish and hurtful of others in my life. I have the deepest regret at the pain I caused my ex-husband when I, not that much unlike Ricki except there were no children, moved across the country to pursue to dream to be an author, coach, and speaker. I also know that the same move really hurt my adopted parents with whom I was very close before they died.
I believe that remorse is the first step toward redemption, but atonement requires "making amends," and that is often much harder, especially if someone isn't still in my life or, as with mama and papa, have even passed away. I wish I could say I knew how to bridge the gulf that I've created, but I really don't know how. What I do know is that when my intention is clear, God will provide me the means to do what I need to do. All things considered, I guess that is really all I need to know.
During the 30-minute walk home from the movie the themes of remorse and redemption kept toying with me. I did a little research when I got home and kept bumping up against Khaled Hosseini's best selling novel The Kite Runner about the boy Amir who betrays his best friend Hassan. When his guilt gnaws at him, he attempts to assuage his pain with yet another duplicitous act.
Eventually, both Ricki and Amir find redemption and atonement. The word "atonement" has been broken to demonstrate its meaning as "at-onement." Atonement does imply a healing--a softening of the separation created by betrayal until we are able to be whole, both within ourselves and with the victim(s) of the act.
While I like to assuage my own guilt at pain I know I have caused by saying "I was doing the best I could with where I was at the time." But, is that enough? Twelve-step programs demand "making amends." In Amir's case, he is able to adopt Hassan's son after he has been orphaned. Ricki, too, finds a way to heal relationships. Neither can remove the pain caused, but each is able to bridge the gap caused by their acts.
As I walked this evening, I felt truly remorseful. I know that I haven't always been the easiest person to live with, and I have struggled with how to follow my heart without being selfish and hurtful of others in my life. I have the deepest regret at the pain I caused my ex-husband when I, not that much unlike Ricki except there were no children, moved across the country to pursue to dream to be an author, coach, and speaker. I also know that the same move really hurt my adopted parents with whom I was very close before they died.
I believe that remorse is the first step toward redemption, but atonement requires "making amends," and that is often much harder, especially if someone isn't still in my life or, as with mama and papa, have even passed away. I wish I could say I knew how to bridge the gulf that I've created, but I really don't know how. What I do know is that when my intention is clear, God will provide me the means to do what I need to do. All things considered, I guess that is really all I need to know.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Birthing the Intentions of Spring
After a week typing it and completing the first proofreading of The Game Called Life manuscript yesterday, I decided I needed to do something different today. With a steady downpour outside, a long walk was not an option I chose.
My desk is stacked and sadly overflowing, so cleaning my desk seemed in order. I've been at it for about five hours now, and I can truthfully say that I cannot tell that I've done anything. Really! Much of the sorting that I've been doing has been turning handwritten notes from meditations and retreats into word documents that I could file and refer to. Other pages in the stacks have been thoughts for various books that I am working on.
Among the pages of notes, I found intentions for the rest of the year from my spring retreat. While I am still without a life partner again for almost 20 years, I am amazed at how much on the list is gradually becoming reality. The summer must have been a germination period, because since my mid-September retreat and thanks to both this blog and the government shutdown and my furlough, my intentions have been in fast-forward. Making a contribution to the healing of the world, using my voice, and writing daily have become a reality. I hope this blog is making a difference, and I am confident that when The Game Called Life is an e-book, it will dramatically contribute to the healing of our world.
At the end of the page of intentions, I had printed in larger letters "WHAT IS MY INTENTION?" I believe that referred to what my single underlying intention was from all the others. I had a drawing and the words "living at the choice point." Choice Point is a book that I wrote in the late 90s but has never been published. It is about living in conscious communion, moment-by-moment, with All That Is. For me that means, following what I know to be true in my heart. I call the process "living a prayer." As I looked over the list, it was true: the only way I could do anything on the list is by living a prayer.
I definitely am not there, but I am markedly farther along than I was six months ago when I wrote this. I truly believe that I have planted seeds over the summer and in this furlough that predict I will be still farther along the path when I cross the one-year anniversary of my last spring retreat. And, that's what it is all about--consciously attempting to do better and better at living a spiritually rich life. In my heart I know that is where I am intended to be.
My desk is stacked and sadly overflowing, so cleaning my desk seemed in order. I've been at it for about five hours now, and I can truthfully say that I cannot tell that I've done anything. Really! Much of the sorting that I've been doing has been turning handwritten notes from meditations and retreats into word documents that I could file and refer to. Other pages in the stacks have been thoughts for various books that I am working on.
Among the pages of notes, I found intentions for the rest of the year from my spring retreat. While I am still without a life partner again for almost 20 years, I am amazed at how much on the list is gradually becoming reality. The summer must have been a germination period, because since my mid-September retreat and thanks to both this blog and the government shutdown and my furlough, my intentions have been in fast-forward. Making a contribution to the healing of the world, using my voice, and writing daily have become a reality. I hope this blog is making a difference, and I am confident that when The Game Called Life is an e-book, it will dramatically contribute to the healing of our world.
At the end of the page of intentions, I had printed in larger letters "WHAT IS MY INTENTION?" I believe that referred to what my single underlying intention was from all the others. I had a drawing and the words "living at the choice point." Choice Point is a book that I wrote in the late 90s but has never been published. It is about living in conscious communion, moment-by-moment, with All That Is. For me that means, following what I know to be true in my heart. I call the process "living a prayer." As I looked over the list, it was true: the only way I could do anything on the list is by living a prayer.
I definitely am not there, but I am markedly farther along than I was six months ago when I wrote this. I truly believe that I have planted seeds over the summer and in this furlough that predict I will be still farther along the path when I cross the one-year anniversary of my last spring retreat. And, that's what it is all about--consciously attempting to do better and better at living a spiritually rich life. In my heart I know that is where I am intended to be.
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