Joy is Our Natural State

The other day I felt so over flowing with joy. It was an absolutely beautiful feeling. The entire world sparkled and shimmered. I felt like giggling over nothing and everything. What an amazing feeling! It was great.

Why can't those feelings last? I feel kind of punky today and a little crabby and coming off the feelings of joy, my little crabby has taken on a life of its own.

My Monday morning prayer call makes me feel wonderful and connected and at the same time there is a disconnect that takes place within me. It's a strange sensation. I must really love this call because I call every week and rarely miss one. Yet this feeling of disconnect happens every time. It's strange to watch it happen.

The wonderful thing about it all is is that I observe it happening inside me. I feel the disconnect and I watch it move through my body. Click... I've hit the off switch. I see happening and yet it is not part of me. It is some how separate from my experience. There is a part of me that is never touched and always constant it whole and perfect.

It is happening more and more that I experience what is happening around me and yet I am untouched by it.

Growth.

The love I feel for my life, my family, my friends, my community, my work, my body, my home, my being is incredible. I am blessed. I am blessed. I am blessed. So, maybe I'm not all that disconnected afterall. Perhaps being on the phone for two hours is the primary source of my annoyance. Could be.

I have a cold that is hanging on for dear life. It seems to have left my head and is drifting down towards my chest. It has been hanging on for over two weeks now and it is annoying. I want to go to the movies today, but I worry that I am going to hack my way through it and disturb the folks sitting around me. What to do, what to do? I'm going. I'll get some cough drops before I go and suck my way through the movie.

My main revelation this week is just this simple feeling of joy. I believe that this joy has always been present, it has just been covered over by all the crap that I have wrapped myself in for all these years. Problems and difficulties are illusion of my own creation. As soon as I began to unravel them, joy began to peek through.

I am so struck as I do my work in hospice that old people are cloaked in these illusions; you can hear the unending tape repeating itself through their dementia. The issues and problems, repeat themselves over and over as they speak. Oh, the words may change, but the tape keeps replaying the same old song. They have probably sung this song all their lives. And now at the end of their lives they cannot change it or do anything differently. The pattern is carved in stone. But, if it were possible to unravel it, joy would peek through.
Joy is our natural state. Look at any toddler and tell me that isn't so. It is only as the psychological injuries and hurts get heaped on does our joy begin to fade. We begin to conform to what is expected of us. Comply to survive. And the voice of joy begins to diminish.

Go play today. Even if you have to work. Play. Watch your breath. Look at the clouds. Be with a child and listen to them. See their joy and know that this is your birthright too. We are joy. Our natural state is joy. it is your natural state too.

Enjoy. No matter what you must do today, even if it is just for a moment or two, enjoy. Breathe. You are alive. And that is enough.

Live Life Now

Sometimes when I am writing here I am aware that that I sound like I am ranting and raving, looking under every rock for a peek at God, and in many ways, I suppose I am. I know that I am searching for answers and meaning to life. It is natural when a person is no longer young and the fact of aging begins to make itself known and the possibility of lying to yourself becomes harder and harder; your mortality makes itself known. You are going to die. I am going to die.

Working with hospice has really helped me recognize my own mortality- I am going to die. So, what does that mean? What does life mean? Is there a purpose to it all? Well, I'm sure there is a purpose to it. I just haven't figured it all out and I doubt that I will.

But, this much I know is true, life is meant to be lived. Many people die without every living. Many people are so afraid, afraid of rejection, afraid of pain, afraid of looking like a fool, afraid of failure, afraid of ridicule, afraid of dying, so afraid of life that they don't every live. They exist and never know that there is anything more. I don't mean that you have to climb Mount Everest or make a solo flight over the Atlantic, although those things are exhilarating for sure. We just need to experience life... now.

In the opera Tosca, the hero Mario Cavaradossi, is condemned to die. He is in prison looking through the window at the night sky; he sings of the beauty of the stars and the earth and he says, "And desperately I die. And never before have I loved so much." Many of us wait until we hear a terrible diagnosis and prognosis before we begin to fully appreciate life and those we love. We are so tangled in our fears that we never see the truth of what is right in front of us the whole time: Life is meant to be experienced. And the only way to do that is to be here now. Not caught up in thought worrying about things that haven't happened yet or what might have been, but living life now, as it is. As it is with all of the messiness and meanness and pain. When we can feel our pain, experience our hurts we also clear the way for feeling our joys, our triumphs and our love.

Many years ago, I was really lost, at least I thought I was. I was disappointed that I didn't have a big career, I was upset that I didn't live up to what I thought I should have. You realize that all of these thoughts of failure were all my own thoughts. No one was judging me but me. Anyway, I was sitting outside of my parents place in Florida, looking at the seagulls and pelicans, enjoying the late afternoon breeze. In that moment, I felt great peace and joy. It was perfect. I said to my father, "What is so wrong with just sitting here and watching life go by?" Of course, I got the answer that we are meant to accomplish something with our lives, we need to make something of ourselves, etc. Well, that question has stayed with me all these years and I have come to the conclusion that I knew the answer all along. We are meant to experience life right now and that means being. Being just as you are, seeing life just as it is and accepting everything for the perfection that it is; even the ugly and painful parts. Then we experience life, we live our lives to the fullest.

Of course, you can climb Mt Everest or fly across the Atlantic in a Piper Cub. I want to see the Himalayas, I want to travel the Inland Waterways, I want live in a silent retreat for a year and work for children in Africa. I dream of doing these things. But even if I never get to do these things, it doesn't change the fact that I have lived my life. Because all those years ago when I asked my father my question and he gave me that answer, I knew deep within me that watching life go by, experiencing it and being a participant as well as the observer was the true meaning for me. I know that I don't have to wait until I am condemned to die like Mario Cavaradossi to look out of my prison window and say, "Never have I loved so much."

Jews For Jesus

This is a post that I wrote more than a month ago. As I said in my previous post, I couldn't figure out how to change my blog to suit the new format. It turns out that it was very easy, I just needed to take the time to work my way through it. So, this is one of the posts I did not post during that period. I happen to like this post. So here it is:

Well, it's 1:30 in the morning and I can't sleep... again. Last night I was up for about four hours and tonight it looks like it's going to be the same deal again; which is weird since I was so sick on Monday. I'm tired, I'm just not sleeping. Sleepless in New Jersey, it almost sounds like the title to a movie... or not.

I haven't written in a long time. I'm not sure why. I just haven't. There have been changes to Blogspot, and besides that, I seem to be going through something again. I don't meditate any longer. I'm not interested in the machinations of my meditation group anymore, all they do is obscure the quest so they don't have to do the work. I don't really want to participate in anything at my seminary. I'm over Spiritual Counseling. I'm thinking about signing up for CPE training, but the thought of all those hours is daunting.

I can't let my feelings towards my brother go. A woman that I work with has me bugged. She is a Jesus freak and she hasn't a clue... A Jew for Jesus no less. Which I don't get, if you are a Jew for Jesus why not just call yourself a Christian and be done with it? Generally, Christians don't seem to understand Jesus' message and she is worse than most. When I first met her, I actually heard her introduce herself to another person as a "Hebrew." As an Israeli, I almost choked! Then she looked at me and corrected herself in mid-sentence, but the damage was done... I knew she was a freak from that moment on. Her mother must be so proud.

I was allowed in the "Inner Sanctum" at seminary and I now see clearly that they are all co-dependent and dysfunctional. I thought they were paragons and ideals. It makes me sad, really. The people at my seminary, it turns out, are just people and not gods.

And I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up.

So, I am going through yet another phase. This is the "Burned Out, What's the Point?" phase, I suppose. I am burned out. Even the thought of going to New York twice a month as a Deans' Assistant is bumming me out.

But, here's the thing, all of the above is true. I am burned out. I'm tired. Living here is weighing heavily. And I am suffering from a lack of faith, maybe as well as a lack of privacy. The other day I read something that really hit home. I'm reading the book "Passionate Presence" by Catherine Ingram. It's a wonderful book, in it she says that we all have attachments (nothing new there), but even wanting to know God is an attachment. I never thought of that before. I was so busy ridding myself of all my attachments so that I might know God a little better and here I am making new attachments for myself.

I have worked hard to let go of my displeasure at living here in my childhood home with all of the unpleasant associations and even that is yet another attachment! Shit. Does this mean that everything in life is an attachment? It's a ball of rubber bands that cannot be unwound. I'm hopelessly lost.

I long to feel God's presence. I don't meditate any longer because I feel like it's a waste of time; all I do is fall asleep. I do God's work and I must admit that sometimes when I am with a patient, I feel God moving through me to help them; to be what they need in that moment. Those are the moments I long for. But, they are brief moments that are gone too soon.

Part of the reason I love my seminary so much is that while I am there I feel such an incredible connection to spirit, to other people, to God. Does the fact that they are a dysfunctional group lessen my experience? Is it a bogus sham and I am a helpless pawn? Gees, I hope not.

It seems that I am whining a lot tonight. I am casting about for answers. Answers that are no answers.

When I am sitting in the park, eating my peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and the birds are flying and the squirrels are scavenging, the clouds are drifting by reflected in the brown water of the flowing river I feel connected to all that is. We are all doing it together. We are being together. We are God.

All the rest is shit.

Why can't I stay there? Why can't I sleep? Why does faith have to be so hard? Does this trashing about have a purpose? If so, I can't fathom it. Maybe God has a sense of humor and enjoys our chest grabbing and brow beating. Maybe that's why God invented Jews for Jesus, he needed a good laugh.

Well, I have been trying to figure out how to post to my blog for sometime now. It's really difficult... at least for me since technology is passing me by. It's frightening. I was always computer savvy and managed quite well, but in the last complete of years I find that it is becoming more and more incomprehensible to me how to maneuver around computers, websites, jargon and how they all interface.

So, here I am struggling along with my blog.

I have been writing, but not posting because of the change in format last May. I decided to try again to figure out how to save my blog and continue to post... this is my effort. Will it work? Let's try. I am going to post this now and see. It appears that I cannot write remotely and then cut and paste my writing into the box provided. I must write directly... I think.

Here goes.... Good luck.

Life Starts Clapping

It seems that all of my posts lately start with, “life has been very busy and I have neglected my blog….” This post is no different. I really have neglected my blog. And I am really busy. And I am really lazy, too!

In addition to those things, all of which are true, I have been feeling like I’m on the verge of something and it’s just beyond my grasp. I don’t have words for what is fermented inside. It’s completely non-verbal, which is a little disconcerting.

I have written about our breath, at least I think I have… I feel that our breath is the connection to all that is. Every creature, human, tree, fish, plant, and yes, rock is breathing… now. All of life is breathing now. It forms one breath. One life. One spirit. One.

I say this every time I lead a meditation. I believe that to be true, our breath is part of one larger breath. We are breathing God. Or is God breathing us? Who is breathing whom here? I don’t know.

There is a Hafiz poem that talks about “all of the creatures grab their instruments and join the song.” We are breathing our instruments creating God’s song.

But, there is more.

What if it is the witnessing that is the most important function of life. I witness you and you witness me. I feel your pain, your sorrow, your joy and you feel mine. And as we feel each others pain, joy and sorrow, God is feeling it too. We are His sense organ.

See I told you it was still non-verbal.

The other day, I rode by and animal that had been run over by a car. My inclination was to look away at the horror of this creature’s pain so clearly etched upon his face. But, instead, I looked at his pain, I took it in, I witnessed it and I felt compassion and sorrow for this animal, I felt his pain, and in that moment I connected to God. God felt the sorrow and the compassion too. Does that make sense?

I must leave this thought for another day when I have more clearly grasped it. However, I know this to be true, beyond anything else that I know to be true; being closed off from life is shutting out God. We need to be vulnerable and open to life to feel God’s presence. Our suit of armor that all of us don to protect ourselves from wounds and barbs of others, is the primary reason we are cut off from God. By the way, wearing this suit of armor, also, cuts us off from joy, love, peace, and happiness too. Living open and vulnerable is scary for sure, but it is the only way to really live.

I was in class last week and it was a day of prayer. The pain that people voiced was incredible. Normally, my judgmental side will kick in and I will slings arrows at people to keep from feeling their pain. I didn’t this time, I let it come. It washed over me, it took me and I sobbed along with everyone else, and it was then that I felt God completely with me; so along with the tears there was an immense joy that welled up in me at the same time and I was overwhelmed by it all. I was fully alive… in that moment.

LIFE STARTS CLAPPING

Wherever
God lays His glance
Life starts
Clapping.

The
Myriad
Creatures grab their instruments
And join the
Song.

Whenever love makes itself known
Against another
Body

The
Jewel in the eye starts
To

Dance.

~Hafiz


I will all this to marinate a little longer, but I feel so close. It appears to be right in front of me, I can almost reach out and touch it. Please, help me to open more fully to your presence, I want to know you.

Amen.

Life is Good And So Is Israel

I have neglected writing my blog lately. Life has bee very full lately and for this am glad. I am still serving as a Deans’ Assistant at my seminary; this is such a blessing for me. I cannot convey the joy that serving in this capacity has given me over the last eight months. I am sure that I have received far more than I have been able to give. I am still in my InterSpiritual Counseling course… this I don’t love so much. I am sticking it out for the duration, but I just cannot warm up to the teacher. I’m sure it’s my stuff that is getting in the way and not her. I know that she is trying very hard to create this course from just the ashes of the old course and I give her a lot of credit for her efforts. We just come from different points on the map. So, I agree to disagree and I am letting it go.

My work at hospice is consuming me. If I wanted to work full time, I could, without a problem. It’s just that I am happy with it being three days a week… at least for the moment. I have been offered the job of helping to coordinate the end of the year retreats for both the first and second year students and to coordinate the graduation celebration at Riverside Church. I am so thrilled that Diane and Susan feel that I have the capacity to handle such a huge responsibility, but at the same time I am terrified of all of this responsibility. Scared to death, is a pretty accurate description.

I am absolutely thrilled that I get to be one of the staff at the retreat center for the entire week. That is like a dream come true. To be considered an equal is amazing. I am so blessed and grateful.

At the same time, however, I worry that my job at hospice will suffer. I can’t let my patients down, or Margarita, or Chris or anyone else at my job. I love my work and I want nothing to jeopardize it or the quality of my work. I feel trapped between to the two. So, I am praying that I have the stamina and the energy to perform both functions well.

Life is so good. I feel truly blessed and loved by God these days. Everywhere I look, I see beauty, I see love, I see gentle breezes in my sail. Please, dear God, stay with me.

I just read that if we turn to God, God will respond by filling our lives with love and well-being. This has truly, and deeply, been my experience. I took a few steps towards God and God reached out and jumped leaps and bounds to meet me and take my hand. Who knew it could be so? I’ve heard said before and never quite believed, but this has been my experience. God met me more than half way after I reached out to Him/Her/It.

This past week, I have reconnected with a South African friend from Israel. We have not seen each other since they left Israel in 1989. But, through the power of FaceBook we have found each other again. We were emailing each other back and forth because her daughter is discovering Israel pretty much in the same way that we did all those years ago. I was writing to Sharon, telling her some of the lessons I learned about making Aliyah. I was telling a couple of funny stories that I remember and I just roared. I read them to my husband and he laughed heartily too. It then occurred to me that some of our travels through Israel would make a wonderful story. There were so many strange tales, so many funny stories, so many poignant ones and so many lessons learned about my husband, the human condition, and myself that this is a story that should be told. I was inspired to write it. I believe I am going to do just that. I think it will have to wait until this summer after the graduation celebration is over, my course is done and my obligations as a Deans’ Assistant are no more, but I am going to write it.

I started to write this once before, but I was in a different place before, I was still angry about some of the things that happened and I was grieving some of the things we lost, but that is behind me now. Now, I see the humor, the farcical nature of some the events and people we met. I believe that I could write it now. God be willing, I will try.

Here’s a sample:

We lived in a tiny settlement in the Galilee called Har Halutz. At the time there were about 17 families living there. Today there are 90. We were a pretty close knit bunch and everybody knew everybody’s business. The men of the settlement, called a yishuv, would walk shmirrah or guard duty, taking turns. Of course the men were armed. Well, our friend, Richard, who was very cowardly, was out walking his turn on guard duty, he heard a noise and opened fired… at nothing. The head of security came running out of his house in his pajamas and ran up to Richard, taking stock of the situation, he then ripped the rifle out of Richard’s hand and took all his bullets. Orin, the head of our security, told Richard that he can walk guard duty like everyone else, he just couldn’t have any bullets. Well, Richard was indignant and said to Orin, “What if something happens? How will I defend the yishuv?” Oren said, “If something really does happen, yell at the top of your lungs and some with bullets will come out and help you.”

Every time I think of that story, I laugh aloud. Perhaps, you have to know Richard, perhaps not, but I think it is funny. There are so many stories like that.

Then there was the mitapel (or babysitter) in one of the children’s houses. In this particular house the children’s ages went up to about 13 or so. One Friday afternoon, I was getting the dining room ready for Friday night Shabbat dinner, it is the biggest meal of the week. It was my job at that time to get the dining room ready. I was minding my own business, when I group of boys from this children’s house came in. We had large windows that looked over the Sea of Galilee, it was a beautiful view, but the windows were fogged up because it was that time of year. The boys came in and began writing the “F” bomb all over the windows. All Israeli boys learn that one English word at an early age. So, they were writing all over the windows, I was angry, because I was going to have to clean the windows before dinner. So, I called their mitapel and told him what was going on. He came right over and told the boys to wipe the windows down. All but one complied. The wayward son said, “I don’t have to clean anything. Ask my mother.” It just happened that this one child’s parents were Americans. They were the type that felt this is Israel speak Hebrew. I agree, but only to a point. They were a little fanatical about speaking only Hebrew.

So, this child refused to clean the windows. A scene ensued between the boy and his mitapel. Someone must have called the boy’s parents, I never knew who called them. Just as the mitapel took the boy by his head and began cleaning the windows with his face, his mother walked in. I was laughing because it was such a scene, the kid was a major brat and that his mitapel cleaning the window with the boy’s face was priceless. When his mother walked in a saw this, remember, she believes in only speaking Hebrew to Israelis, she began to scream in English! “What the fuck are you doing?” “Are you out of your fucking mind?” You get the idea. The mitapel knew no English (except the word “fuck” because he too learned it at an early age.) I had to leave the scene because I was laughing so hard and I didn’t want to offend anyone or make it worse. But, I can tell you, I laughed for days after that and I never saw that kid again without a huge grin on my face.

This book is going to write itself.

The Soaring Eagle

I have been having difficulty sleeping since we got the cat and since I have had this cold which keeps my hacking all night. I am exhausted. I have been working hard with my patients, teaching meditation, all the reading for my classes, my father and it has been wearing me down. Sleep has been a refuge for me, but now it has eluded me and I am pooped… stressed… and dragging through my days.

Last night, I decided to take Tylenol PM. That was a hard decision for me. I don’t like Tylenol in the first place, it frightens me. Secondly, I didn’t want to disturb my dream life. I worry that if I am in a drugged state, I will not receive any messages or that it will interrupt my spiritual connection. But, I was desperate for a night without interruption, so I took the Tylenol PM and I slept.

I also had a dream that I think may have deep significance. Here it is:

Jon and I went to the movies to see a film called “The Soaring Eagle” or something to that effect. We found our seats in the crowded auditorium. The theatre was packed and we got one of the last available seats, they were high up, but not bad. We were getting comfortable and the movie was starting. I saw and eagle leap off his perch on the top of the cliff and start to soar. Then something happened and I told Jon that I needed to see the manager of the theatre about something, it was a complaint of some sort and I left Jon watching the movie.

I walked through the theatre to find the manager; I asked several people where I could find them. Everyone had a differing idea. Finally, I found him on my own behind the popcorn counter. He was a very strange, funny little man with enormous glasses. He almost looked like a cartoon. I told him my complaint and he seemed to brush it off and gave me some condescending lip service. I just shrugged my shoulders and realized that I needed to handle it myself.

So, I just wandered around the theatre, I don’t know why I just didn’t go back and watch the movie with my husband. Instead, I wandered outside knowing that I wouldn’t be able to go back in. The sky was blue and beautiful with puffy clouds and brilliant sunshine. It felt good on my skin. I walked. I came to the edge of a cliff. The vista was beautiful. Suddenly, I saw an eagle on the edge of the cliff- he took off and he soared! I watched him fly. I was him. The wind was in my face. I was the eagle and yet I wasn’t fully the eagle either. I felt so alive!

Then I knew the movie must be over, I didn’t want to leave the cliff, but I knew Jon would be worried and I went back to the theatre. I met Jon in the lobby and he asked me where I had been. He told me he loved the movie. I told him where I had been and what had happened, but I didn’t tell him how much better reality is than the movie. I allowed him to have his illusion. I allowed all of the people in the auditorium to have their illusion because it was theirs to discover for themselves.

As Jon and I were walking away, we stopped and bought popcorn from the funny little manager. He smiled at me and I smiled back.

When I woke up, I laughed. I’m not sure I understand the depth of the dream. That will have to come with time I think. However, I feel that I may be poised to fly. I will shed my illusions soon and I will take that leap off of the cliff and soar. But, I think this dream is telling me that I am not quite ready. Or perhaps it is telling me that my illusions are holding me back. I don’t really know… yet. That will come, I’m certain of it. As I move through my day, the dream will marinate in my psyche and more meaning will be revealed, but for now, this was the dream and my initial response to it.

I love dreams like this. I feel so connected and more fully alive than when I am awake and that’s the point isn’t it? We are more fully alive when we shed these bodies. The real life is when we are asleep; the truth is available to us when we are not confined in our flesh.

As a very small child, I was about four or five I think, I was playing in my backyard with some kids- they might have been my cousins, I don’t’ know for sure. Suddenly, I had the sensation of looking out through my eyes. I felt trapped in my body. It was weird. I was in my body and yet separate; I was the ghost in the machine. It was as if I were looking through a keyhole at the world inside. This feeling stayed with me for several days. Even today, if I think about it, I can reproduce the feeling of looking out through my eyes, somehow separate from it.

Is this the truth of who I am? Am I really an eagle on the cliff, poised to fly and then soar? Is that the true reality and not the movie? I am beginning to think so.