Seeds of Faith

This is my first full year in my apartment, and I am still planting my balcony garden. Thursday a box full of plants and bulbs was waiting for me when I got home.  For me there is something therapeutic about getting my fingers in the soil, so when I embarked on the chore of planting, I did so with much joy.

Fall is a time when I become most consciously aware of faith.  As I put out the plants that will grace my home next spring, I do so with a great deal of faith.  I trust that if I do my part--plant them right, fertilize, and then water them regularly--they will do their part. 

The magic isn't limited to my balcony.  In the park behind my home, seeds are or have been dropped and are working their way into the ground to grow roots.  Fruits and vegetables left too long in the field have broken open and dispersed their seeds.  Wild flowers have gone to seed. The wind has scattered their seeds as well. In something of a mystery, during the winter when the elements seem most inhospitable to fostering life, a magical process of starting life is going on.

This mysterious cycle of life occurs so regularly that it is easy to lose touch with the wonder of what is occurring.  In many ways, what occurs in our own spiritual development parallels what happens in nature.  Each day as I attempt to grow more whole, whether it be in how I eat or exercise or in my focus on creating heart connections with the clerks in the grocery store. 

I take actions each day, not because I expect something will miraculously change in an instant.  I take actions in alignment with my intentions for who I am becoming because I have faith that if I do those actions to which I've committed every day, then a few months down the road in what seems like an overnight success, the seeds I've been planting will spring forth in a new me.

Spiritual growth, like planting my garden, is an act of faith. If I act consistently over time, I will grow into a new person, as surely as the tulip bulbs I planted yesterday will blossom in shades of purple and pink. I have faith that I will grow into more wholeness, and by so doing, I will plant seeds for a better world.

Beginning again...every day

I find that it has been over two years since my first/only blog post. When I tune in with renewed post-retreat zeal to write frequently, I discover nothing has changed, and everything has changed.

Let me start again by capturing what feels like new perspective, but in truth is what I've always known.  First is the personal. On the back side of each of our hearts is a code that is unique in the world.  Before we came into human form, we collaborated with the wisdom of the Universe--God, Higher Power, Higher Self, or as I prefer Love-- to determine what the world would need during this short snip of time during which we will inhabit Planet Earth.  It is etched in our hearts. 

At any moment, we can "tune in" to hear what is needed at exactly this moment.  Not an hour from now, not a day from now, not a year from now...right now!  So, timing is essential.  If I listen to my heart in 2004, as I did when I  heard that I should move to Washington, D.C., but I don't get my posterior in gear to do so until mid-2006, the guidance isn't timely.  (I love Washington, but I sense it has been more of a struggle than it might have been if I'd come in 2004.)

The second is about the community living from the heart. Certain spiritual principles that transcend time and religion help us flow together.  Since I've written two books about choosing love over fear at any moment in time, that is one of my personal favorites.  Being of service to human kind is another.  Forgiveness as the direct path to Love is another.  These principles lead us to Love. 

I imagine how this works is that there is a ribbon of love that flows from heart to heart to heart, connecting all of human kind.  When we follow these principles, we electrify the connection between us and others.  Sometimes it is one person to another person.  Other times, events conspire to connect millions of us in love and compassion.

The challenge that we face is to live, moment to moment, from that sweet spot in which we are aligned with the universal principles and our unique heart destiny at the same time.  From that place, we cannot fail.  I call it "living a prayer in the real world"--the communion of the moment in which we check in, listen, and act...then start it all over again.  That is "integrity"--a word derived from the same source as "integer"-- when we are at one within ourselves and between others.

While there is nothing in my September 1, 2011, blog post that I disagree with, the intervening years have distilled my focus. Although the heart doesn't usually give us headlines about why we are here or what our purpose is,  I think that is what I am here: at this point in time my work is to help people live the prayer. 

I will be the first to say that living a prayer isn't easy, but it is ultimately the most satisfying life we can live--the one that is uniquely our own.  If you would like to share my journey and those of others on a similar path, I invite you to join me and share my blog with kindred spirits.  I am committing to sharing something almost every day--every day that I can connect, and I look forward to your support on this journey.