No Longer Afraid

Many of us probably remember when, as children, we believed monsters were lurking in the darkness of our closet, or lay hidden under our bed, patiently waiting to seize us as soon as our parents left the room. Although we were told they weren’t real, in our minds we could picture them clearly: huge and threatening, their eager, yellow, slimy fangs glimmering in the shadows, ready to swallow us in one single bite.
As adults we still fear the monsters lurking in the unknown and the forgotten, and often picture them much mightier than they really are. The monsters we fear as adults lurk behind the curtains of important decisions, or in the chambers of the mind we have chosen to lock away after being emotionally wounded. The two are quite different from one another.
The monsters we fear when we find ourselves at an important crossroad in our lives are birthed by the apprehension we feel when facing uncertainty. Most of us experience anxiety when not sure of what will unfold; we tend to expect the worst as a defense mechanism; by doing so, we are already braced for disaster before taking the turn and don’t feel as concerned with being attacked by unforeseen events. In the majority of cases, the apprehension we feel is unfounded and mostly feeds on insecurities. In some situation, we feel as if we are facing a daunting task which will drain us of vital energy; once we get started with the project – and get swept into the flow of things – the work gets done and we realize it wasn’t too bad after all.
The other type of monsters we need to face, at times, are the ones we have kept locked away in the attic of our mind, those which caused us great pain in the past and we tried to forget about, the very same ones which haunt our dreams and taint our daily life. This kind of monster is the scariest to face. After being locked away for so long, we have forgotten what it truly looks like, and our imagination paints it much bigger and much more threatening. Truth is, after being locked away for several years, the monster has weakened, and the emotional charge which we attached to it when it was free and able to harm us has depleted with time. After so much time away from it, we have also become stronger and more able to defeat it, so we no longer need to fear it as the mighty giant it used to be.
Once exposed to the light of a conscious confrontation, it will likely appear for what it truly is: an old, residual fragment of the original monster, void of energy and greatly undernourished because of the new choices we have made for ourselves. By keeping it tucked away, we have assumed that its power would never lessen, and have saved it in our mind’s eye as being as big as it was when we locked it away. We have chosen to keep it alive out of sheer fear, and fed it on occasion with our anxiety and doubts.
At some point, it is time for the monsters to be slain. It is time to bring them out and face them in the light of day; only then we will see that the fear of the monster is much larger than the monster itself.

Life Patterns

If we observe the people who walk into our lives – whether they are there to stay, or are only briefly touching our existence with their presence – we will see that they often resemble one another in character. It is not uncommon to hear people say: “I’ve married my mother” or “I’ve married my father”.
This fact struck me several years ago, when I met a girl who was involved into a very abusive relationship. She told me she was planning on leaving her spouse, and starting a new life. I talked about it with my own husband and we agreed that it would be okay for her to stay with us for a while, at least until she got on her feet. During the few months she lived with us, she opened up a little and told us that this was the fourth abusive relationship she had been into.
I was dumbstruck. The odds of running into one abusive relationship are probably fifty-fifty, but running into four of them by the age of thirty-one could not be coincidental. It was almost as if this girl had a label pasted on her forehead, advertising that she was looking for yet another violent man.
Then, one night she told me that her father was abusive to her mother and to her. He had beaten both of them physically and verbally, until the mother decided to get out of the marriage and jump into yet another abusive relationship.
That, suddenly, explained it all. As children, we absorb whatever is being fed to us, whether it is praise or judgment, respect or abuse. After taking it all in, the child has no clue what to do with it. The baggage of emotional charge connected to the events long pushed away is not discharged but safely tucked into a secret chest in the attic of the mind. Once put away and dulled by the passing of time, the child pretends it is not there, and attempts to create a life different than the one he or she dreamt of escaping.
Although the new life appears full of promise, the unreleased pain is still screaming to be taken out of its hideout and be sorted out; since the owner of the chest is not willing to take the heavy old thing out of the attic, afraid of reliving the emotional charge connected to the events tucked away, the pain trickles out of the aging, rotten wood, and sneaks out uninvited, haunting the chambers of the subconscious mind and triggering behaviors which promote unhealthy lifestyles. The wounded child is still alive and well, and needs to understand whether he or she is to blame for what happened so long ago.
Youth therapists draw painful occurrences from the well of children’s subconscious minds through role play. It is amazing what will come up from those sessions; the children reenact the very same things that have caused a trauma in their young life, over and over.
As adults we do the same; we recreate in our new life the same situations we tried to escape as children, simply to understand the role we played in the unfolding of those past events. We are attracted to and attract people who will support our role play, and the patter will continue until we have identified the matrix, and dealt with the emotional charge we put away so long ago.
Observing our life patterns will not solve all our problems, but will provide us with a valuable hint to get started in our search. All we need to do is look around ourselves and, for once, not be afraid of the monsters in the attic.

Seeds Swept in the Wind: Fate vs. Chance

Some palm readers believe that one’s future should be read from the lines of the right hand, as opposed to those in the left which are, they say, the lines of birth – the original blueprint of our destiny that was drawn prior to our arrival on earth. According to that theory, we are provided with two maps: one which reflects the plan we made before being born, and one – the right hand - which reflects the choices we will make during our journey.
At any given moment in our lives we are subject to meeting new people, entering new doors and closing others; are the events we live from day to day coincidental? Or are they points already charted on the map of our existence?
In my opinion, there is no such thing as coincidence; I believe we are born with a precise path to follow, which allows for slight revisions as we walk through life.
We are taught that humans have a gift of free will, but do we really?
If one considers the concept of time - and truly ponders on it – will realize that there is no such thing; time is merely a manmade illusion born out of sheer need to organize our existence through our limited five senses. Time is needed by our ego - which is born from our earthly body - but serves no purpose to our spirit, which is connected in nature to universal energy and is, therefore, timeless, ageless, birthless and deathless. Past, present and future are one, and are only separated by the need the human mind has to be in charge and control unfolding events.
According to this theory – if time is simply an illusion – things which are to unfold tomorrow already happened yesterday; we just have not reached them today. Many of the stars which shine brightly in our skies today have likely been dead for hundreds of thousands of years; their distance is just so great, that their light took that long to reach us and become visible to us.
Universal perfection does not allow for mistakes; we are born to the family which will create the perfect environment for the growth of our spirit, and meet countless people and situations which will support the lessons we need to learn. That said, the journey our soul chooses to embark on can sometimes be a bumpy ride, and it will take the strength of our spirit to understand the necessity of each experience and roll with the punches. We may be born to abusive parents, meet people who only seem to create obstacles, run into predicaments which will test the strength of our resolve; yet, when all is said and done, each of those situations will have taught us something, and our test truly is one of understanding the greater, unexplained importance of each occurrence.
We are the seed the wind of destiny is blowing around. We may land on fertile ground right away, or we may be deposited on barren environs for a while, waiting out our turn to be swept again toward greener grounds; or maybe we will die there, as our charted mission is that of drying in the sun and support the hungry bird who’s looking for nourishment to perpetuate its own soul agenda.
Whether our goal is that of taking center stage or merely operating the curtain ropes, our stay on earth – and that of other living beings - are all equally important, and have great value in the greater scheme of things. We are all but a drop in the vast waters of the ocean, but all together we create something powerful and beautiful, which will carry the tune of creation, and lead us harmoniously in a timeless dance of soul unity and life’s true purpose.

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall...

Very often, the person staring back at us when we look in the mirror is someone who’s been painted in our minds with the colors of personal experiences, and stroked by the brush of external opinions.
Many of us take pride in declaring we are immune from the negative perceptions of others, but are we being entirely truthful with ourselves? Since early childhood, we strongly rely on the opinion other people – mostly those we love- have of us, to help us bring our own inner image into focus. We revel in compliments which make us feel good, and cringe when others make us feel less than perfect. My daughter, for one, sees a princess every time she looks in the mirror. I’m not just saying that, mind you; she really, really does. Since birth, everybody has been telling her how sweet, pretty and good she is; in her child’s mind only princesses are sweet, pretty and good, thus, the only image of herself she can come up with is that of a princess.
We often hear of victims of abuse who see an ugly person when they stare into the mirror; in reality, some of them are really beautiful, but their broken spirit is preventing them from seeing the truth; the only image they can perceive is that of an ugly person looking back. The same can be said for individuals afflicted by eating disorders; the image staring back at them is simply a twisted reflection, deeply distorted by insecurity and fear.
The majority of the triggers which affect our self-image are planted in our minds early on; some sneak in through subliminal suggestions, but most of them are implanted, directly or indirectly, by our caregivers. We often associate goodness and worth with beauty, so if we have been made to feel not so good or unworthy we seldom see ourselves as attractive.
Once that original picture is published and stored within the archives of our mind’s screen, it is very hard to delete it and replace it with a nicer image. Even when people compliment us for our good looks, we skeptically look for excuses to undermine their opinion, and label it as non-reliable.
A simple way to replace the unwanted photo is to realize that it is possible we are seeing a distorted image. If we analyze closely the attitudes of the people who influenced us most while growing up, we will probably see that we are trying to reconfirm the image they had of us, and playing it over and over in our minds to see if they were, indeed, correct.
Our lives trickle through the limits which were imposed on us as children. By writing off some of those limits, and recognizing them for what they are - a faulty perception developed and planted by others - we can erase the board and draw a new outline. Maybe, then, the person in the mirror will finally smile back for the first time.

Fulfilling the Contract

Bastiano - a Shepard who lived a few miles away from a mountain cabin my parents used to rent as our vacation getaway - took his sheep and cows to pasture every day; while his animals grazed the fresh grass, he sat under a tree and stared into nothing. We used to watch him from a distance and wonder how he could seem so content just being alone, with nothing to do, day after day. He was quite shy, but through the years he slowly warmed up to us, and often came by to see us and chat for a few minutes. Bastiano was not a cultured man; he had stopped going to school after elementary because his family needed him to help; he had never traveled outside the area; to him, the whole world was made out of mountain peaks, trees and his animals. Bastiano was the gentlest soul I ever ran into.

All along, he used to tell us that life is nothing but a contract we all sign before we are born. Each of us has a predetermined path to follow, during the course of which we learn all the lessons we came here to learn. Each soul has a handful of fundamental truths to assimilate during its time on earth, and each person is born into the perfect life which will support their individual learning; Bastiano thought that was the reason why we choose to be born to a specific set of parents, in a pre-determined setting, and we meet certain people who will influence us throughout our journey. “Imagine”, he said once “that yoursoul has to learn humbleness. Nothing would teach you to be humble more than being handicapped or homeless, and having to rely on others for your survival. You couldn’t learn determination and strength of spirit, if you weren’t dealt some hard cards; you couldn’t learn true love without experiencing loss, you couldn’t learn patience or forgiveness without trying events.”
When I asked him if he was scared of the horned vipers slithering all around those mountains, he always smiled and said that, until his contract expired, he had no reason to be scared. His idea of life being a contract stuck with me through the years, and often, when I meet people who seem to have a catalytic value in my life – whether their arrival triggers positive or negative changes - I wonder if their name was on my original contract before I was born.
I did ask him once if it is possible to change the terms of the contract, and his answer was: “ You can change some parts through the choices you make, but definitely you can’t change the length of it; once the contract is up the job is over, whether you have finished it or not. Sometimes we think it’s over and then things turn around; in that case we are given an extension of time to make things right.”
Bastiano died at the age or thirty-six in his sleep. Although his contract was not very long, he had learnt more in his short life than most of us do in twice the time. His inner peace was paramount, and infectious to all others who spoke with him. To this day, I think Bastiano was an angel, sent briefly to earth not to learn but to teach and inspire. He certainly inspired me, and I will forever be thankful that our contracts allowed us to meet, if only for a short breath of time.

Stifling the Fire

Many go through life angry at something or someone, captive of a fire which rises undaunted through the cooling chambers of rationality eating away all that is pleasant and peaceful in their world.
In itself, anger is an irrational emotion; it literally takes over the individual and morphs the old self into a different person. If we really take a good look at an angry person objectively, all we see is someone deeply fearful.
We like to picture an angry person as a monster, someone we need to fight, but anger is, in reality, just an impressive and intimidating mask hiding a deeply embedded fear. A person who’s afraid of being alone will get angry at her partner for being late because she is afraid her partner is no longer interested in her company; the religious or political radical who goes around spewing righteous judgment and hatred against those who don’t agree with his views is nothing more than a fearful man who doubts his own beliefs, and needs people to agree with him to reconfirm those beliefs to himself.
So, should we condone others lashing out at us, simply because we understand they are victims of their own fears? Certainly not, but understanding that someone is angry in response to their own shortcomings, weaknesses, fears and doubts is an important tool to realize that we shouldn’t feel responsible for their outbursts. We can reassure them once, but apologizing for their twisted perception only enables the drama and allows it to thrive.
Two of the first weapons angry people use are guilt and shame; they dig deep, hoping to get a reaction which will justify their irrational position, and will go to great lengths to trigger the same emotion in their opponent. If their efforts don’t bear fruit – as we don’t allow the skin of our emotional response to break – their fire will simply mirror back to them, bringing the heat such an unbearable level that it will have to defuse itself rapidly in the name of self-preservation.
After all, others can throw the ball; whether we choose to catch it, and play the game, is ultimately up to us.

Watering Weeds

The tie between water and emotions is found in many spiritual traditions. In Yoruba belief, for example, the Orisha of love – known as Erzulie or Oshun depending on geographical variations – is associated to the flowing sweet waters of rivers, streams and lakes. Her sister Yemaya, the goddess of the salty waters of the ocean, is associated with motherhood and nurturing. In the Catholic faith, several Saints are also associated with water and healing.
If one thinks of it, the analogy between water and emotions proves to be quite remarkable. Water is the most important nourishment our body craves; deep emotions and nurturing are the main sustainers our minds crave in the quest to feeling whole.
A plant will stop thriving when not watered properly - and will eventually perish altogether if deprived entirely of moisture. Similarly, unwanted situations will begin to falter if we avoid “feeding” them with emotional responses. By allowing ourselves to open the flow of our emotions toward the things that we wish were not occurring we are in fact facilitating their existence and enabling their growth.
When someone experiences an internal void - and is unable to fill the emptiness with self love - they will often create a drama play aimed at triggering an emotional response in others; once the fire of emotions has been sparked, they will continue to replay the act, adding more details from time to time to ensure the audience remains captivated.
Quite often, once we interrupt someone’s drama by actively choosing to stop feeding it, the person directing the play will stop and regroup; they might choose to go elsewhere looking for their fix, or they might realize that they need to direct their attention inward, rather than outward. If anything, our personal energy will no longer be the unwilling victim of emotional greed and desperate hunger.
We can’t control the actions of others, but we can certainly choose how those actions will affect our very existence. After all, true power is not in stopping events from unfolding, but in deciding how those events will affect our lives and the choices we make for ourselves.

Daily Vitamins

Many people dutifully take vitamins every morning, work out and diet when needed, no matter how time consuming and sacrifice-demanding such steps often are.
The society we live in – one based largely on image and importance of the body – promotes and encourages us to go to great lengths to ensure good health and appearance; but how much time does the average individual invests in mental health and the pursuit of personal happiness?
Research has shown extensively how important it is to remain positive and seek the silver lining.
Let’s imagine that we went for a check-up, and the doctor told us that we need to go on a strict diet for health related reasons; most likely, we would anxiously listen, take the good doctor’s advice, and cut out all the foods that can affect us negatively.
What if that same doctor told us to go on a “mental diet”? Would we cut out all negative thoughts? Or would we just shrug our shoulders and keep living the same old way?
A rigorous mental diet is indeed very hard to follow; if one pays attention, it is amazing how much easier it is for us to pick up negative vibes than positive ones. It is interesting to try it for a day, and attempt to not give in to any negative thoughts for that window of time. It’s much easier to not eat!
The best way to achieve things is to follow the path of least resistance. We get frightened and anxious when facing something which appears paramount, but everybody is probably comfortable taking a few baby steps to learn how to walk.
So, the program is going to be very simple: at night time, before going to bed, let’s try to identify three positive things that happened throughout our day, and analyze briefly why they occurred. They could be extremely small things, such as a stranger smiling warmly, good news regarding someone we love, the chance to finish a book we really enjoy, a cup of exceptional coffee…the list is endless.
As simple as this regimen may appear, it works beautifully. We are used to dismiss simple things as ineffective, as we are conditioned to think that good results can only be achieved through exhausting work, and quality can only be purchased by exorbitant sums of money.
Ultimately, we can look at this exercise as a “mental vitamin”; it won’t cure all ills, but it will certainly ensure that we are taking steps toward improved health and renewed happiness.

Balancing our Inner bank Account

Mostly everyone is familiar with balancing a bank account. In order for it to remain in the positive we must put in more money than we get out.
If we draw more money than we can replace, the bank account will quickly fall in the red, and we will be hit by over-draft charges which will make it even harder to stand back up on our feet.
On the contrary, if we deposit more money than we need to withdraw for expenses, we will soon be able to have a nice, little nest egg that will give us peace of mind and can cover up unexpected expenses.
Imagine now that the bank account is our life, and the funds are our personal energy.
By enabling other people to affect us with their emotional debt, we allow our own account to become faulty. Our own personal energy will be absorbed into their drama, and will dissipate faster than we can replace it. Our own energy bank account will soon be in the red.
On the other hand, if we can become detached from the fires that others around us start with the purpose of upsetting us – and are able to generate more personal energy by focusing on things that benefit our lives and that of others without becoming part of the drama - our account will be secured and will never run out.
Our energy is like cash; there has to be a balanced flow between what goes out and what comes in. If we choose to invest it in ventures that promise a good return, then it is a smart financial idea. If, instead, we choose to invest our hard-earned energy in shady deals we should not be surprised to be falling into deficit.
We would not just give our debit card and pin number to a stranger, or to a person who, we know, will just draw our money out and waste it without a second thought.
Should we not be just as cautious with out personal energy?

Fact of Sensory Illusion?

Have you ever wondered if others see and hear the same things you do?
After all, images and sounds are picked up by our senses, and then transferred to our brain for processing. What if our brain -conditioned by previous experiences and teachings - decodes information in a bias fashion? Could a person say one thing and we hear another?
That would certainly explain why people don't seem to find a common ground, at times, or why some find a particular person or thing beautiful while others consider the same thing unattractive or unpleasant. In my personal experience, I know there have been situations when I said one thing and others understood something completely different; it was like we were on entirely different agendas.
What about those cases when the same thing is observed or heard by multiple individuals? Could it be that the response we hear from others is also biased and "produced" by our brain? Is it possible that we "decide" what we are going to hear from others, and selectively choose who will agree with us and who won't?
The hidden triggers in our subconscious have the power to affect our actions and the way we personally approach things, so it would only make sense that they have an impact on the way we see or hear.

The Shadow Twin

Have you ever wondered how many personas live inside the mind of others you encounter? Can you say that the people you know are exactly who you think they are, or is there a possibility that many of them have other faces you have never encountered?
Criminal psychology shows that most sociopaths have multiple alter-egos; those who have had the opportunity to meet infamous serial killers such as Ted Bundy describe them as charming, socially brilliant, and seemingly abiding to societal rules.
It is quite hard to comprehend that a wonderful person and a monster can live within the same bodily confines; yet, it happens all the time. Writers and film producers have exploited this intriguing symbiosis through the symbolism of werewolves and vampires; the most successful attempt at explaining this phenomenon was achieved with the production of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.
Although similar to developing multiple personalities as a defense mechanism, the Jekyll/Hyde syndrome is quite different. Individuals do not form extra personalities to absorb the blunt of painful experiences happening at that moment in their lives; rather, they are taught to be nice and socially apt, but feel entirely inadequate and alone. Thus, while maintaining a pleasant face in the eyes of society, they feel the periodical need to take the mask down and lash anger out.
Because these individuals feel like nobody can truly love their shadow-selves, they take extra care in polishing their social skills, and only vent their frustration and pain toward people they have no connections with, simply because that’s a viable way to be the person they are without being exposed. They thrive on negative attention, and get their fix out of triggering fear and anger in their targets. They tend a trap and wait for the target to fall, enjoying all along the extra energy that is being fed in their direction.
The human mind is a puzzle which science has only begun to identify the pieces of. We all have a shadow side we were taught to suppress; in some, it is more extreme than others, but if we could glimpse at the brains of those surrounding us we would probably be constantly surprised by the actual thoughts rushing through their minds.
What about you? Who is your shadow twin?

The Dormant Seed

The story of the bamboo and the fern tells of a man who, after losing all hope, goes to God and asks for one final reason why he should not quit on life; God tells him to look around at the bamboo and the fern. When He planted the seeds – God explains – the fern sprouted almost immediately, and continued to prosper more each year; the bamboo seed, on the contrary, did not sprout or do anything for five years. Yet, when it finally broke out of the ground, it grew to heights previously unimagined. The time it remained dormant, the seed was never idle; it simply used that time to incubate within the warm womb of the earth and grow strong roots.
The things that truly mean something in our lives are not the ones that sprout immediately. Our love and dedication, our passion and determination incubate and lay powerful roots which will allow our creations to have a long prosperous life.
Kids are a wonderful example of this concept. Often, we don’t see the results of our teachings until our children make their own way into the world. Although we may question our own parenting skills while we are raising them and walk with them through the many challenging phases of growing up, the values, morals and concepts we instill in them lay dormant within, and use the time to develop a root system which will support them once they are out on their own.
The same applies to any project we feel passionate about. We may feel as if we are wasting our time by working hard toward something which is nor yielding instant gratification, but our efforts will be rewarded in due time.
Each moment we dedicate to our projects, each new thing we learn, are steps which get us a little close to the day when our dreams will finally break the hard soil and will grow proudly to heights we never imagined possible.

The Things We Don't see

There was once a little old man who went to stay at a nursing home for the blind. He had no family left, and had spent the last few years in different institutions.
He waited patiently in the waiting room until a nurse gently nudged him to get up from his chair. “Good morning Mr. Wallace” she said, “If you are ready we can go up to your room now.”
Mr. Wallace smiled sweetly and sighed. “I just can’t wait.” He said, “it’s going to be wonderful to stay in such a beautiful room.”
The nurse smiled back and led him to the elevator. On the way up she attempted to describe the room and all that was in it; Mr. Wallace would never see those things, but it would probably comfort him to know what was waiting for him.
“I love it. I just love it.” Said Mr. Wallace.
The nurse couldn’t help smiling. “But Mr. Wallace, how can you so passionately love something you haven’t seen and that you will never see?”
“Because, dear child” said Mr. Wallace, “I have already decided that I like it. I know it’s there, whether I can see it or not. We give value only to that which we see, and discredit that which we do not see. I don’t see air, yet I’m still breathing and happy to be alive. I can’t hold air but I know it’s there. Some of the things we don’t see are the greatest gifts we are ever given.”
What we see, feel, and hear is only a fraction of what’s truly there.

For Better or Worse

I recently finished reading a book, written by ST Underdhal, entitled “Remember This”.
"Remember This" is the story of Lucy Kellogg, an elderly lady - once independent and dynamic - whose grip on reality slowly slips away as she surrenders to the unforgiving talons of Alzheimer disease. Lucy Kellogg loses things, confuses reality and fantasy, gets lost herself, but ultimately remembers those who hold a special place in her heart. The pain Lucy's son feels as he watches his mother slowly losing her connection to reality - and reversing back to being a child - is almost tangible. I thought about this book yesterday, as I ran into an older couple, while visiting my husband at work. At first sight, the couple looked suave and very ordinary, until I noticed the lady was slightly on edge, and followed her husband’s every move with apprehension. I sat with them and struck a conversation, and quickly learned that her husband has Alzheimer disease.
She told me a bit of the struggle they go through on a daily basis, and of the paralyzing fear which takes hold of her anytime she loses him out of her sight for even brief periods. She told me about the patience that’s required in taking care of someone afflicted with the disease, especially in the final stages, and sadly stated that her two sons – both grown and living out of state –refuse to help in any way. Furthermore, she said, they have no visible patience whenever they visit, and quickly lose their temper with him.
As the lady spoke I could feel my heart breaking for her husband, and for her. They raised two sons, sacrificed years of their lives to make sure their boys were well taken care of, and once they needed a small return of love and comprehension, it was simply not there. Talk about biting the hand that feeds you.
I thought about all the situations when I lose my own patience. It is easy to become irritated when people are on a different page, but how could it ever get this far? How could I fault someone for not being mentally sound? I thought about my parents, and all they have sacrificed to raise me into the woman I am now, and knew that although patience is not my greatest virtue, I could never do that to them.
Before leaving, I looked at the gentleman sitting beside her; He was like a small child living in his own world, comfortable in the knowledge that his wife was there to take care of him. I stood up and hugged the lady, wishing her good luck. The gentleman looked up at me, a confused look curtained his soft, gentle eyes; it was as if he noticed me then for the first time. I leaned over and hugged him too. He smiled and hugged me back.
When I left, I turned around twice to look at the couple through the glass windows. They looked so sweet sitting there together. I silently said a small prayer for the lady to continue being strong, and for the gentleman to go through these last stages of his ordeal with the smallest amount of discomfort. I also said a small prayer of gratitude, for being allowed to witness, on an ordinary day, such an extraordinary display of genuine love.

Is That What I Truly Want?

In the many years we have known each other, I‘ve always heard my friend Caroline complain of the fact that she lives alone and has no children. Yet, every time she comes to my house for the day – and is exposed to the zoo of family life for more than an hour – she is ready to bolt out the door and find the peace and solitude she habitually claims to hate.
I often hear people complain about everything; their spouses, their homes, their jobs, their children, the time they spend alone. As humans, we spend a great deal of our time focusing on, and complaining about, what we don’t have, never really ready to acknowledge the fact that what we do have is truly what’s right for us.
We behave similarly in relation to weather conditions. In the winter we dream of being somewhere warm; we complain of the cold and rain, and can hardly wait for the dog days of summer, when, once again, we’ll be able to shed the heavy clothes and feel the hot kiss of sunshine on our skin. Yet, as soon as summer comes - after just a few weeks - we complain of the heat, and talk dreamily of the cool weather we will experience in the fall and winter.
Opposite conditions allow us to appreciate what we normally take for granted.
Many can relate to the excitement felt when company is ready to come visit; we plan wonderful moments and are eager to catch up on conversations; yet, after a few days, we are ready to claim back the life we had, our routines, our moments alone. It’s not that we don’t love the company, but we are ready to be back in our own space.
Ultimately, if we never lost our jobs, we’d never appreciate the sense of security which derives from being employed; if we never had a day of rain, we’d never appreciate a day of sunshine; if we never had anyone treating us wrong, we’d never recognize, or appreciate, a true friend when he or she comes along.
We can choose to look at our seemingly unfulfilled lives and experiences as a sentence we are forced to serve, but by doing so we only rob ourselves from the opportunity of being happy.
At times, changes are in order and can improve our lives, but often we simply need to make an honest assessment of how much we truly wish for things to be altered. We can begin by asking ourselves if our lives would be better or worse if we take a different turn.
When we look at the neighbor’s grass, and wish it was our own, we should also ask ourselves if we’d be happy and ready to commit to the daily amount of work required to keep it so green.

Star Light, Star Bright...

Have you ever wished for something so badly your whole body ached at the thought of it? I know I have, many times in the past.
Fourteen years ago, when I was trying desperately to have a baby, the thought of becoming a mother ruled my every waking moment; I hoped, prayed, read and wished, but every month my hopes were dashed. Then, one day I went to lunch in the cafeteria of the hotel I worked at, and Mabel, an old lady who worked in housekeeping, asked me why I looked so sad. When I told her, she smiled and said: “You just have to stop the wishing.”
That night I went home and thought about what Mabel had said. How could I stop the wishing? I wanted a baby more than life itself, and I couldn’t imagine thinking about anything else; it had been two years since I first started trying, and by now I had fused with the obsession of it.
About a month after that, I received a wonderful new job opportunity, so I got very excited and my thoughts focused on the new turn in my career. I even told myself that it was probably a good thing I hadn’t become pregnant yet, and for once my timing was maybe in order.
I started my new job and loved it; I loved the people I worked with, my sunlit office and the considerable increase in pay. A week later I found out I was pregnant.
When I first looked at the positive pregnancy test, I sat there dumbfound. Mabel’s words came rushing back to me, and I smiled, thinking she was right after all. I had stopped the wishing for a little while; by finding something else to focus my thoughts on, I had released the pent-up energy I had accumulated around my wish of becoming a mother.
By releasing the thoughts, all I had left was the true wish in the heart; by distancing myself from its unfolding, I had insured its success.
I thought about all the things I had wished for and let go of; the ones that truly meant something to me had come through in due time.
As a cake which won’t rise if one looks at it, so wishes stall when one obsesses about them. Holding on to dreams does not mean forfeiting the quality of present life in favor of remaining stuck in the quicksand of a wish. We can dream, and hope in our hearts our dreams will come true, still going through the motion of enjoying the good things of our daily lives.
What Mabel taught me was priceless, and even if I ever wanted to forget her words, they would always jump at me anytime I simply glimpse at my three wonderful children.

Our Mad Rush to Nowhere

While driving home from the City Cemetery, yesterday, I turned on the radio and scrolled through the stations to find a good tune; to my surprise, I found a Christmas song!
I am a Christmas enthusiast - and really get wrapped in the festivities - but that was a bit much, even for me. Tuning in to Christmas on the day after Halloween seems a bit of a mad rush; what about Thanksgiving?
That got me thinking about how much we rush through life; ready to jump on the next bus, eager to put the present in the past so we can focus on the future ahead. More times than not, we live in the wrong time zone. We either focus our thoughts on the past – and keep alive events that should by now merely be memories – or project ourselves in the future, as if the next event is secretly hiding the key of happiness we have longed for and not yet found.
We do this starting from very early on; as young tots we want to be big children, as children we long to be teenagers, as teenagers we wish to be adults. Once we make it to adulthood, we wish we could blink through the hard building years, so we can reach the point of being able to retire and enjoy the fruits of our labor, see our children grown, become grandparents.
We get so excited to discover what it will be like to live in the next stage, that we miss the wonderful opportunity of enjoying the stage we are in.
By making the future our present, our present becomes our past. The days we dismiss as uneventful - in favor of others which promise more excitement but might never even come - are days we will not get back.
It is time we slow down, and realize that life is a journey which should be taken slowly, step by step, not a speed race aimed at reaching the finish line.

The Window

A young couple moves into a new neighborhood.
The first morning in the new house, while she is eating breakfast with her husband, the young woman watches her neighbor hang the laundry outside to dry.
Pointing her finger at some visible stains on the freshly laundered garments, the woman tells her husband: “Perhaps she needs better laundry soap.”
Her husband looks on, but remains silent.
From that day on, every time she sees her neighbor hang her wash to dry, the young woman continues to make the same comments.
A month later, the woman is surprised to see sparkly clean sheets on the line, and says to her husband: “Look! She has learned how to wash correctly. I wonder what changed.”
The husband says: “I got up early this morning and cleaned our windows!”
And so it is with life: What we see when watching others depends on the purity of the window through which we look. Before we give any criticism, it might be a good idea to ask ourselves if we are ready to see the good, rather than look for something in the person we are about to judge.

Criticism: Friend or Foe?

Criticism is often perceived as a personal attack, and our first reaction, when others criticize our actions or thoughts, is to become defensive and, often, lash back.
When someone criticizes our behavior or words, we feel undermined, and are afraid that once discredited, our personal worth is compromised in the eyes of the world.
As children, our greatest goal is to please adults and hear their words of praise. As adults, things don’t change much. We long to be connected to others, and become distraught when we feel rejected.
No matter what the issue at hand, people will have different opinions. Although some will choose to spew their position using less than desirable words, it is possible that a bit of truth is hidden within the wave of negative statements.
Many of us argue with others merely to hear a confirmation of our own beliefs; receiving approval for what we think or feel gives us a sense of validity of our own ideas, and reinforces our resolve to believe in them.
When we are entirely comfortable with something, we don’t feel the need to argue our point, as we know that, no matter how others feel, our ideas are unchangeable, and we will stick by them even if we are one against the rest of the world. When we argue – and especially when we become belligerent around the issue we are arguing about – is simply because we are still trying to figure out the validity of what we are stating. We seek approval from others in supporting us against those who don’t agree with us, as we feel comforted by the power of numbers. If others agree, we assume, our ideas must be right.
How can we accept criticism as our friend, and turn a negative into a positive?
1) Take time to cool off, so that raw emotions won’t cloud your judgment. Delay response until able to process the meaning of what’s being said.
2) Turn a negative into a positive. Rather than arguing your point, seek the silver lining within the hurtful words. Everything has a positive side.
3) Be open minded enough to accept the fact that there may be some truth in the hurtful words, and commit to try to see if you can indeed learn something new.
4) Criticism is very rarely a personal attack. It may be an attack of your words or actions, but it is not inherently directed to you as a person. Learn how to detach the two.
5) Remain calm and positive, and take the opportunity to clarify your views without feeling you have to become defensive. You are not being personally attacked. Thank the other party for their opinion. After all, opinion is tied to individual perception and does not always reflect reality.
Ultimately, criticism can be a positive thing, if it is viewed as such. And we’ll feel good knowing we have turned an enemy into a long lasting friend.

Dear Santa, I Thought You Could Read My Mind...

How many times in our lives do we receive gifts we don’t really need or want, and seethe internally because the other person was not sensible enough to anticipate our true wishes?
We may come up on a birthday, or other Holiday, and, once asked what we would like, our answer simply is: “Oh, you don’t have to worry about a gift. I really can’t think of a thing.” Deep down, we expect to be showered with lavish gifts and attention because the other person SHOULD want to make us happy, but our pride stops us from expressing what we really want. We expect people to read minds, and are disappointed if the other party’s “psychic” qualities are not as sharp as we thought.
Many years ago, I used to work at a downtown hotel as front desk supervisor. The reservation manager surprised us one morning by telling us that she would be leaving.
My heart leapt at the opportunity; I really wanted that job. I immediately went to the front office manager and volunteered to keep up with the reservation work after my colleague left. The two weeks passed by. I arranged my schedule so I could be in the reservation office during the day, and still be able to oversee front desk operations. By now, I thought, the job was certainly mine. I had learned anything there was to learn about reservations, and could envision the front office manager coming up to me and beg me to take the position.
About a week after that, bright and early one morning, a young girl showed up at the front desk and asked for me. She told me her name and said that she had been hired for the reservation manager position; furthermore, the front office manager told her that I would be training her, and how excited I would probably be to resume my regular job.
I was floored. All I had hoped for, and worked so hard to achieve, was crumbling in front of me like a house of cards. Maybe there was a mistake, I thought.
But it was no mistake. Jane took over the reservation office, and I went back to my old job. What went wrong? Why didn’t I get the position?
I realized then that I had never asked for the job after all. I volunteered to help, yes, but never formally said anything about wanting the position. In fact, every chance I had, I always reminded the front office manager how much I loved my regular job and my customers! I had dug my own career’s grave by not stating clearly what I really wanted, assuming that he could read my mind.
Most of us readily expect others to KNOW what we wish, but we are the only ones who know what’s important to us.
That situation taught me to be more direct and make sure that people know exactly what I expect. Whether they will comply or not is a different thing, but at least I will never have to beat myself up for losing an opportunity to the demon of improper communication.

The Cabin in the Mountains

Last night I thought about a little cabin in the mountains my parents used to rent throughout my childhood.
It wasn’t the average vacation home, and frankly I don’t know how my parents ever found it. It was an old house –built in the late 1800s or early 1900s- entirely embraced by a thick forest, situated on top of a mountain in the Appennini range in Italy. It was not accessible by car, so we always had to park at the foot of the mountain and then hike all the way up, using a very narrow path swallowed by tall weeds and canopied by taller tree branches which seemed to connect fingers with each other as if in prayer.
It was quite a hike. Since we could not bring the car up, we had to lug groceries and other necessities up the walking trail.
I remember the first time we went up: After walking for what felt like an eternity, we finally spilled around a curve and continued up a slightly wider path which led directly to the house. The structure itself was old stone, and it vaguely reminded me of the small houses I had seen on Mickey Mouse cartoons. It was a two-story home, with green shutters, and a huge chimney; two large oak trees stood beside it as if they were guarding the abode from the threat of invisible enemies. On the other side of the house was an old tub and an enclosure – also built in stone – which had probably been used as a patio.
The house itself was not very impressive. It was old and isolated, with no phone service and a little box of a bathroom built in the rear of the attached barn.
While my parents went quickly to work, airing out and cleaning up, I had the chance to walk around the premises and take it all in. Contrary to my sister, I was already in love with the place. At a time of my life when Heidi was my favorite movie character, I felt as if I had magically switched places with her, and I was given the exclusive of spending the summer at her grandfather’s mountain cabin.
There was something special about the place; although it was old and run down - and nearly a heart attack to reach - it was like a bite of Heaven on earth, tucked near the clouds as it was, with a front seat view on the valley that spread underneath like a precious Persian rug. It was beautiful, mysterious, breathtaking. It took a lot of effort to reach it but once there it was amazing.
Isn’t that how life works, too? We work hard and struggle to reach something, often discouraged and tired as we wade through the difficulties on our path. Once we finally reach our intended destination, we are able to truly taste the flavor of the final reward.
We would not appreciate sunrise without the dark night, or the hug of a warm blanket if we had not been clutched by the icy fingers of a cold winter day.

Holding on to Faith

Last night I had a strange dream. I was driving down some unknown road, and suddenly I came upon a road block. I got out of the car to see what the problem was, and saw a table set up on the side of the road, with a small fish bowl in the middle. Inside the bowl the water was very murky, but a small orange goldfish was still alive in it. It looked undernourished, but very much alive. When I picked up the bowl, the fish flipped and almost came out of the water, so I ran to get some fresher water and some food for him. I figured it would take some time to bring the tiny creature back to its prime, but with good food, a little TLC and the appropriate amount of time everything would be alright.
Then I woke up. I lied in bed awake for a while, wondering what on God’s green earth the dream was about. I began to speculate what the fish might symbolize for me, and why the little fellow was stuck in such a bad place, not conducive to its growth.
I thought about faith. Could it be it? Has my faith faltered during this time of hardship for our country? Maybe a little.
I was raised to be very driven by the power of Spirit, and have always felt reassured that things will, somehow, work themselves out.
I think lately, as many others have, I have been unknowingly thrust into the vacuum of anxiety which has enshrouded our world. Not entirely, mind you, but I have found myself wondering what will happen. I think that all the hatred spewed around the political race, the failing economic situation and the general anxiety which has greatly been exploited by the media have taken a toll on most of us.
I woke up this morning with a different type of resolve: I am claiming back my full faith. No longer will I get wrapped into the ugliness of things, if I can help it, and I will once again “know” that everything is going to be alright. Somehow, things will find the path to straighten up, and all the pieces of the puzzle will fall into place.
I don’t believe in coincidences, and know that everything happens for a reason. We have come to associate our self-worth to material possessions, but have now come to a crossroad where we need, once again, to shed that notion.
Spirit is known by many names, depending on the tradition one follows, but the essence of It remains the same. Spirit is ever present to hold our hand and lead us out of the dark cave we have, halfway consciously, trapped ourselves into.
We will survive the hardship and, because of it, we will be better people. We only need to believe and reach out to one another, rather than isolating ourselves. We just need to nourish our faith a little more, and fish it back out of the murky water it has survived into.

Living the Life of a Liberal Conservative

Can a conservative and a liberal peacefully cohabitate the same body? They certainly can; I am the living proof of it. Before anyone ruffles their feathers, let me explain.
I was raised in a conservative family, and my parents made sure we children understood our family had no tolerance for loose morals and teenage rebellion. Both my mother and father held a respectable place within the microcosm of their social circles, and were very clear about their views on life.
To them, honor, hard work, faith and respect were huge on their list of priorities.
Unbeknownst to me, their loving influence affected me more than I thought possible.
Like my parents, I also believe in solid morals and traditions, I am a fervid believer in the power of Spirit, and live my life according to the Golden Rule. These same values I try to impart to my children. In fact, I made a choice long ago to be a stay-at-home mom, to ensure that my kids would be raised by me, and would not be influenced by questionable views at such young ages. Thankfully, I married a great man who shares the same principals, so it has been fairly smooth sailing the whole twenty years we’ve been together.
Now, to the liberal part.
Although I hold on to traditions, and largely live my life according to the views that have been passed down to me, I can’t bury my head under the sand and pretend that everybody is as privileged as I have been.
I know there are people out there who have not had the vantage point of growing up in a solid home; I know there are people that have only experienced hardship in their lives, simply because they were born on the wrong side of the tracks, or in countries ravaged by war and famine. And I know there are people who do rely on others before they can pick themselves up after they have fallen.
Those people exist, so I feel that I have to keep my mind open and embrace the fact that if we hope to move forward within the process of human evolution, I have to be a part of accepting the beauty of diversity in the world. I believe wholeheartedly in self-responsibility, but I also believe in helping others out if they are in a position of not being able to help themselves.
I believe in protecting the defenseless, such as the very young and the elderly, and believe every existing creature has a right to live, whether we do or don’t deem it worth it within the scales of our societal beliefs.
I believe in preserving our environment, because we only have one earth; it’s a bit controversial to state we have strong family values, and then not realize that saving our earth is the very best gift we can give our children and the generations that will come next, as they will have a healthy, beautiful planet to live on. Saving our planet ensures the survival of our own genes.
I could go on and on, citing many examples, but I think everyone has pretty much gotten the picture. I am a conservative who’s liberal at the edges, with no need for extremes.
And thanks to that, I am enjoying the best of both worlds.

The Field Trip

Imagine going on a field trip. You get to see new things, some of which you will absolutely love, and others you won’t like or find boring.
I remember some of the field trips I took during school years. No matter what the destination was, I was always excited.
The main goal of the trip was to expose students to an educational topic, but in the minds of the kids field trips were strictly a chance to have fun. At that age, we found the bright side of everything, even in a boring exhibit at the museum of history.
I see life as a paramount field trip.
Alike kids departing on a bus, ready to go explore something new, we came to earth to learn something, and arrived armed with the verve of youth, prepared to enjoy the trip regardless of what we would see.
The point of going on the trip was to learn something while having fun. But are we having fun? Do we still enjoy the camaraderie which united us when we embarked on the trip? Since reaching our destination, many of us have become too absorbed in the exhibits and have forgotten that we were also supposed to enjoy each other’s company.
We seem to draw close only when something catastrophic happens, and miss the chance we have, every given day, to make the most of our trip.
It’s good to remember we all came on the same bus and we are all friends. Let’s make our brief stay one to be remembered.
It’s not too hard to accomplish that; sometimes, all it takes is for us to smile at the friend who’s standing near.

The Stranger Within

It is rare to find an individual who is comfortable sitting in silence, allowing his or her mind to be still. Perhaps this is intentional, more than we care to admit.
We do this whenever we claim to need “me” time, but fill our quiet moments alone with people and activities.
We need to be brutally honest and recognize that we fill our lives with clutter—sometimes intentionally, sometimes passively—but we allow it just the same. Anything to avoid being alone with ourselves.
We all know people who seem afraid to be alone. They always need to be with someone, on the phone, or online interacting in some way just to avoid having a chat with themselves.
Most are running from something...a memory, a feeling, an abandoned dream. It is very hard to know what we are running away from until we've taken time to listen, but the whispers we hear from within can be distressing. It's easier to contain our thoughts and emotions rather than face them.
By doing this, we only increase the pressure within. Relieving this inner pressure does not require a lot of time. Ten minutes a day is often enough to clear away the clutter in our minds. Sit still and observe the internal chatter. Meditate. Pray. Just pay attention.
Somehow we must remove the incessant needless distractions from our lives. We need time to go within and listen. More than anything we need to stop running from ourselves.
If we don't put forth effort to try to hear our own voice, why should we expect anyone else to listen to us?

Are We Really Pro-Life?

With the presidential elections at the door, one of the tickets each party has been leaning on to attract voters is the right to choose life. What does being pro-life actually mean? What criteria should be used when determining who’s right and who’s wrong?
There are many who denounce abortion, but condone those who kill in the name of life, or are open supporters of the death penalty. Killing is killing, whether the victim is a fetus, a child, a father, a doctor or a criminal.
Everybody has a right to live, but many appear to be bias in regard to choosing which type of life has more or less right to thrive.
Being pro-life does not mean that abortion should be illegal. It means that the individual believes in the value of life and chooses not to have an abortion because she has the right to bring life forth.
Criminalization of abortion did not reduce the number of women who sought abortions. It is estimated that in the years before Roe vs. Wade the number of illegal abortions ranged as high as 1.2 million per year.
Many women died or suffered serious medical problems after attempting to self-induce their abortions or going to untrained practitioners who performed abortions with primitive methods or in unsanitary conditions.
Putting the federal government in charge of a choice which should be strictly personal, and considered on individual basis rather than a whole, would make us no different than the Asian countries obligating their women not to have children.
Life needs to be respected for the value it has, all across the board.
Abortion should not be taken lightly or be a substitute for contraception. Yet, women should have the right to decide what is appropriate for them, one way or the other. If I was raped and became pregnant, I feel that it should be up to me to decide whether I want to bring forth the product of a vicious attack; others should not decide for me regarding something that affects me so closely.
I personally believe in life, and would not choose otherwise, but I still think that the freedom of choice needs to remain protected as one of our constitutional rights.
To me, being pro-life means that we should support increased education, and prevent loss of life rather than forbidding personal choices. Regardless of personal views, life is our greatest gift and one we should not take lightly. Individuals are the ones who should choose life; the government shouldn’t do it for them.
And that is true freedom.

The Roles We Play

It’s funny how humans thrive on drama.
No matter what issue arises, we look for things to argue about, which will cause a stir. We can observe this flaw in the political arena, in religion, in life itself.
Of course, when we stand by a certain point - and look for confirmation through facts - we are likely to seek those corroborating facts from sources that share our point of view and look at the issue from the same angle we are. Everyone is going to have different opinions, different facts to quote, and different outlooks directly related to personal experiences and taught values.
It is very amusing to watch talk shows. Producers make a living from human drama, and saturate our media with a circus of flaring emotions and half-baked truths. Soap operas last for decades and hook staggering numbers of people through glittering drama, often exposing human flaws that nobody wants to recognize in themselves, yet are present in most of us.
We thrive on the negative, and several studies have shown that negative messages are more easily implanted in the subconscious than positive ones. That’s what political campaigns and organized religions thrive on to get their point across.
So, why do we thrive on negativity and drama?
No matter what our religious affiliation, anyone at all comfortable with spiritual truth halfway believes that we are here for a reason, and we came to earth to learn something.
Our soul is here to learn basic lessons of compassion, forgiveness, unity, and tolerance, and we are all actors on the great stage life. By acting out our roles we understand the nuances behind the human drama, and learn our lessons throughout.
Sadly, most of us forget we are the actors and blindly become the part we came to play. We become so engrossed in our role that we blend our identity with the character we impersonate. We all forget who we truly are, until something devastating in our lives knocks down our ego and reminds us of what is truly important.
Regardless of the fact that some believe in reincarnation and some don’t, we all agree that we only have one life at a time to be in, and we need to make the most of our time while we are here.
Focusing on the present, and choosing to overcome the drama we so easily become attached to, can free us from the chains of erroneous earthly perception and give us an edge in understand who we truly are.

Anicet's Story

I’d like to share a story which I hope will inspire you as much as it inspired me.
It is a story of courage, determination and, most of all, faith. It is the story of a man named Anicet, who came to America to follow a dream.
His family and friends in Africa had helped him gather enough money for the trip and a short stay, but with poor language skills and no references he was having a hard time securing a job. His dream was to become a Christian minister, so he was hoping to find a job in a church, and was willing to take on even the most menial job.
We agreed to meet, simply to have a meditation together and talk further.
We had scheduled to meet at 9pm two days later. He called at about 8pm, asking for directions to my house from a nearby drugstore. I only live about five minutes away from the drugstore, so I expected him to show up soon. Forty-five minutes went by. Finally, I went outside on the porch to see if I could see him driving through, thinking he had probably missed the house; in the distance I spotted a little black man, walking resolutely, and realized it was him. Anicet walked in, took his hat and jacket off, and politely asked for a glass of water. When I asked him why he hadn’t parked in front of my house, he simply replied that he didn’t have a car and had walked here from Cary.
I was stunned! North Raleigh is a good twenty to thirty minutes drive from Cary. He explained that he had left his house that afternoon, and that he wasn’t going to miss the meeting just because he didn’t have a car.
We talked that night, and then met again on a few more occasions. The last time I saw him he said that he had understood what God had wanted him to understand; his mission, he said, was to find a way to preach about the unity of all religions.
After that, I didn’t hear from him for about a year.
He called me again this past summer, just to update me on his progress.
He did find a job in a church in Cary, and the gentleman who hired him also helped him enroll in several courses, including one to better his language skills and a few theological ones. He is very happy now, and feels that he is working toward the vision that God sent him.
What truly touched me about his story are the strength of his faith and the fire of determination inside of him, as he overcame overwhelming obstacles to follow his dreams, and fought against all odds to achieve what he believed in.
Sometimes, when I don’t feel motivated, all I have to do is think about this little great man, about his courage and faith, and suddenly I feel like I can get a lot more accomplished in my day.

The Guilt Trap

Have you ever felt really bad about something, and promised yourself that it will never happen again?
We often feel guilty about things, even when the circumstances leading to the fact are out of our sphere of control, or others – because of their own scales of judgment – accuse us of having done something wrong.
Guilt is often used to control others' behavior. At its core guilt is a natural instinctive guidance system to help us discern right from wrong, but this has been manipulated and corrupted throughout time, with the intention of controlling others usually for selfish reasons.
Misplaced guilt can gradually spread into all aspects of our lives, like weeds overtaking a lawn, resulting in destructive choices.
It is helpful to distinguish the difference between guilt and remorse. Guilt is what one feels if they have done something intentionally "wrong"; again, this is a very subjective matter, as some acts can be legitimately wrong or simply erroneously perceived, by ourselves and others.
Regardless, guilt is the emotional response to having done—or thought— something about which we are ashamed.
Remorse is quite different. Remorse is triggered when we are genuinely sorry for an inadvertent action or when we have neglected someone or something. There was no intent to harm, and we feel genuinely sorry for what has occurred.
Chances are we feel guilty when instead remorse is a more appropriate response.
Guilt is a trap which keeps us focused on the past, reliving what we did wrong.
Remorse is a much healthier, productive emotional response: acknowledge what occurred, take responsibility if appropriate, and then work toward not repeating the same incident. It is proactive and allows us to move forward whereas guilt produces stagnation.
By avoiding mixing the two, we can more easily process the triggers hidden within the shadows of our subconscious, and take, for the first time maybe, a good look at the blocks that prevent us from moving forward in our lives.

The Friends We Haven't Met Yet

It is strange how people walk in our lives, sometimes.
When I met my friend Connie, two years ago, I was rushing through errands and had stopped by to see my husband at work. As I waited for him to deal with the customers in the store, I sat in one of the chairs in the waiting area and picked up a magazine, while Morgan, my daughter, was playing with a toy another kid had left behind.
I nonchalantly turned to look when I heard the door chime, and saw a young lady walking in with a little girl in tow. She waited patiently in line and, when her turn came, she asked for directions. She was new in town, having just moved here from Kansas, and was miserably lost.
Meanwhile, her daughter and mine had already connected, and were chasing each other around the chips rack, giggling.
When I heard that my husband was not familiar with the road the young lady was inquiring about, I intervened and started talking to her. I gave her directions, she thanked me and was ready to go, but her little girl had different plans. She and Morgan – after a whole five minutes – acted as lifetime friends, and neither of us had the heart to separate them that fast.
Since the crowd of customers had, by then, considerably thinned, we sat in the waiting area talking, hoping to give the girls a few extra moments. It was obvious that they enjoyed playing together, so we exchanged phone numbers, and agreed that we should meet again at a park.The rest is history. Morgan and Brooklyn are now inseparable, and so are Connie and I. We are so in tune, that sometimes we finish each other’s sentences. There is nothing in the world we feel we can’t share. Since I don’t stop by my husband’s business very often, it seemed like a gift from destiny that I would be there the same day that she had gotten lost.
Whenever we get out in the world, we never know what doors we’ll be walking through that day. Some are challenging, while some others are blessings that will stay with us for life.
Yesterday, my daughter was watching a Barbie movie, and I heard one of the characters say that strangers are the friends we haven’t met yet. Although it was one of those clichés you often hear in children’s movies, it really made me think.
Every person we meet has the potential to become very important in our lives; we just have to remain open to the possibilities and the blessings each encounter might bring.
In my case, I guess I was very lucky, as the stranger I met that day turned out to be my very best friend.

The Masks We Wear

Masks are one of the most remarkable manmade creations used in rituals throughout recorded history, used by our ancestors to form a bridge between themselves and the Divine.
Though in modern times the mask has a negative connotation of disguise with the intent to deceive, the ancient world perceived masks as tools of revelation, a connection to invisible powers.
“Identity masks” are often worn to hide the vulnerable parts of ourselves, and most of them are molded in response to societal demands, parental suggestions and peer pressure.
Most of us wear some sort of mask to introduce ourselves to the world. It is not done to deceive anybody; rather, it is an effort we make to ensure that we are accepted and loved by others. Many feel that they could not be accepted for who they truly are, so they slip the mask on. Sometimes they become so used to doing it, that they are unable themselves to differentiate who they truly are from who they believe people want them to be.
We constantly blame the world for not accepting us for who we are, yet we don’t fully accept ourselves. We would rather go on and be who we are not, rather than recognize that the standards we measure ourselves against are manmade and often based on others’ perceptions of good and bad.
The person who lives inside of us may be scared, bruised, shy, but it is rarely bad.
The need to hide behind a mask is self-imposed, and as such it can be eliminated.
If we take a glimpse of our true selves, who are we, really? Are we truly the person we are portraying? Or is that person someone our caregivers and societies wanted it to be? Do we really believe what we claim to believe? Do we really despise what we assert to despise? Or have we grown to believe we do just because it would make someone else happy and proud?
What about you? Who is the true self hidden behind your mask?

Embracing Change

We are afraid of change. It's human nature.
The fear of change—the fear of the unknown—is so great that we continue to live within the constraints of our own invisible walls.
Force of habit is a considerable influence in our culture; habit is synonymous with stability while change is disconcerting. It stirs unrest, like a storm stirs the sediment in the sea; until the waters calm down and the sediment settles back to the bottom, the water appears cloudy.
We are very much creatures of habit. We eat, work and sleep at specific times, and have squeezed in multiple other activities, with little to no room for change.
In the midst of this structured life, most of us inevitably arrive at a point where change is necessary for survival. Because we never learned to easily accept change, we panic when we feel forced to make important decisions. Instead of embracing change as a new opportunity filled with adventure, we become almost paralyzed with fear.
Controlled by fear, we dig in and stay put, even if the walls are closing in. We stay in miserable life situations, feeling we don't have the strength to change anything, until something pushes us to our limit and we must make a choice.
Many times our fears aren't readily apparent. Sometimes we know what we want and pursue it with confidence, with no doubts. Or so we think. No matter how sure we are in our minds about a goal or desire, fears often lurk beneath the surface.
As scary as change can be, it doesn't have to be undertaken all at once. Sometimes small steps in the right direction are more beneficial than an explosive life-altering effort. Taking small steps, one day at a time, is less traumatic than rebuilding our entire world from scratch.
If we can learn to tap into our innate wisdom and intuition, we will gradually become able to discern the difference between our fears based on insecurities versus our soul trying to steer us into the flow of least resistance.
Change, and the strength to surrender to it, are an important part of our lives and should be viewed as an opportunity to experience wonderful things yet unseen.

The Things We Take For Granted

I take things for granted. Most of us do, to some extent.
I thought about this last night, as I sat at the kitchen table at ten o’ clock at night, helping my oldest son with a school assignment.
Now, my son Stephen is a very good kid – sweet, compassionate, and always happy – but he has a maddening quality: he is a procrastinator. If he has a project due, it is left for the last hour of the last day before it is due, leading, of course, to a mad dash and panic to get it done on time.
I have tried to explain to him many times how he should pace himself, and try to set up a schedule to get things done; all to no avail. He means well, he really does, but he can’t help being a social butterfly, and a bouncing ball when it comes to activities.
So, here I was last night, secretly boiling inside and pouting about the fact that another evening of mine was sacrificed to his social life; then a light went off.
I thought about all those kids who are sullen and withdrawn, isolated and unable to connect to others. I thought about the meaning of being a kid, and the demands society has on kids these days. I also thought about parents who have children with illnesses, the ones whose sons and daughters are confined in a hospital room, void of energy and preoccupied with issues they shouldn’t have to worry about at their young age. Those parents would give all their possessions to have a bubbly, smiling child, and their hearts would warm quickly if they could detect a small mischievous twinkle in their own kids’ eyes.
That’s when I realized how fortunate I am.
My kids are not perfect – none of us is – but they are good, normal kids, who have been lucky enough to be born in a life void of hardship, in which they can live their childhood years worry-free, thinking about sports, games and girls.
I looked up from the paper and glimpsed at Stephen. He felt that I was staring at him, so he looked back at me a little puzzled. When he saw I was smiling he grinned and his eyes sparkled. I took his hand and told him I love him.
We finished the assignment sooner than I thought. Stephen stood up and was ready to bolt out the room to go play with his brother, but before he got to the stairs he turned around and came to give me a hug. “Thank you for helping me, Mom” he breathed in my neck. “I love you”.
Then he was gone.
I was no longer pouting. Suddenly, I was really excited about the future he, his brother and sister have ahead. They may not be the poster children for perfection, but they have good values, good thoughts, good hearts, and, most of all, they are happy children.
The rest will come with time.

Quality vs. Greed: Are We Endangering Our Children's Lives?

In the wake of four babies dying, and 6,200 having fallen ill after consuming milk powder tainted with melamine – a chemical used in combination with formaldehyde to produce a resin employed in the manufacturing of countertops and fire-retardant materials – people have glimpsed in horror at how far mankind can go in the name of greed.
Last year, many pets in the United States became ill and died as a result of the same chemical, found in pet food produced in China.
How low are we going to sink – and how many people need to die – before we realize that we are sacrificing lives to the god of money?
Small domestic businesses have almost disappeared because of large corporations that opt for cheap labor at the expense of safety and the economic interest of the American people.
Politicians talk a big game about “saving” the country, yet few of them – if any – have ever truly established a program to help small American businesses stand on their feet.
Having a country which relies on its own strength and the labor of its own people is what the forefathers probably envisioned. If George Washington or Lincoln could see how shallow we have become, they would turn in their graves.
Buying at large corporate chains surely has its advantages- everybody, after all, is always looking for a bargain. But what kind of chips are we bargaining with?
Just last October, 69,000 toys produced in China were recalled in the US because of lead paint. In February, Valentine lollipops were taken off the market because bits of metal were found inside the wrapping. How many other threats are lurking on our stores’ shelves?
Greed is a dangerous beast. On a smaller scale, everybody indulges in it somehow. We have witnessed greed in the dishonest gouging of gas prices, and in the way that a lot of our own citizens will not think twice before they scam others to make a buck. We see that in the way we relate to each other on a daily basis. Everybody is out to take care of number one.
When someone returned my son’s wallet – after he lost it in the parking lot of the mall on his way to buy a game system – everybody was surprised when I told them that none of the money was taken.
We shouldn’t live in a world where we are surprised by people taking care of one another; rather, we should be appalled by dishonesty, and should start being less greedy ourselves.
Maybe, by overcoming our egoistic urges to take advantage of what we didn’t earn, and learning how to live with a few less TVs in our houses, we can truly do our part to make this world a better place.

Discipline: The Building Block of a Functional Society

The main goal of discipline is to teach children self-control and remind them that there are natural consequences to their actions: by repeatedly associating an unpleasant consequence to an unwanted behavior, the children are able to learn the difference between what is acceptable and what is not.

In generations past, the rearing of children was stricter when compared to the standards our society lives by today, and most of those children grew into responsible and creative adults.

Today, in an era of psychological expertise aimed at telling parents how they should raise their children, parents don’t know how to act any more. A new school of thought teaches that parents should praise their children for good behavior and not discipline them; because all children thrive on praise and acceptance, if rewarded for the good actions, they will try to repeat those behaviors to earn even more positive attention.

Yet, our youth is not thriving. Juvenile crime rates are rising at frightening speed, and our children are caught in a spiral of self-destruction.

As parents are losing their grip on the ability to keep things under control, and feel that society is promoting a new generation of weeping, uncontrolled criminals, new fundamentalist groups are sprouting like poisonous mushrooms on a field. Michael Pearl, the minister who advises parents to beat their children with plastic plumbing supply line, is only one of the radical advocates of parental rights who, sadly, appeal to the weary and frightened parents who no longer know where to turn.

So, parents ask, is there a right way to raise happy children who will become well adjusted, productive adults?

One of the main things to remember is that our children are being raised in a world dominated by societal and peer pressure, and parental skills are compared to those exhibited by theatrical parents on TV sitcoms. Those forever smiling television parents-always available and never losing their cool-are not real and it is unfair to use them as a scale to measure real life parents, who are weighed down by financial burdens and tighter schedules.

Also, the demands on children are doubling with each passing day, as they are expected to behave like pint size adults in a society which no longer allows children to be children.
If a child is rambunctious, he or she is quickly diagnosed as having ADD or ADHD, and is medicated to numb the excess energy which no longer has an outlet through creative play and physical activity.

In the old days, children were able to go outside and play from sunrise to sunset, and were therefore allowed to use the endless supply of energy that they are naturally equipped with. In today’s world, children are increasingly kept inside and forced to channel their energy into indoor entertainment, often with the result of living their childhood through the virtual adventures of video games characters.

With that said, it is important to understand that discipline is just as important today as it was yesterday, and children need limits and boundaries that will control their natural tendency to go overboard.

There has to be a balance of praise and moderate discipline, so that the child will feel loved, accepted and appreciated, but will also understand what areas of behavior need improvement.As parents, we have the responsibility of maintaining the reins of this balance, if we ever hope to set the building blocks of a functional society.

Double Vision

Many cultures believe the perspective-perception concept is one of the most important life lessons. In African lore, for example, one of the most well-known entities is Eshu.
Eshu is a trickster god, a benevolent-yet-prankster spirit, who confuses people in order to impart knowledge and teach fundamental life lessons.

In one of the folk stories, Eshu walks down a dirt road between two rivaling farms. He wears a red and black hat; the hat is black on one side, red on the other. After he has passed the farms and can no longer be seen, the two farmers come together, asking questions about the stranger with the hat. The first farmer insists that he saw a stranger wearing a black hat, while the second farmer insists he saw the same stranger, with the same clothes, but he swears up and down that the hat was red. As the two farmers continue arguing about the color of the hat, the stranger comes walking back up the road, this time in the opposite direction.

The farmers then realize they were both right; they saw what was in front of them and assumed the other person saw the exact same thing. They never considered the perspective from the other side.

It is hard to understand or believe the other side if we don’t make an effort to see things from their point of observation. We waste energy trying to convince others of the validity of our opinion, but don’t realize that their own standing is simply supported by a different foundation. If we keep one eye closed we can only see one half of the world surrounding us, and we miss out on many opportunities to widen our vision.

By changing our perspective we can change our perception of reality.

Birthday Reflections

Somebody had observed that they would like to read something about me and what I have accomplished, rather than always reading the stories I write about community and others.
I figured this would be a day as good as any others; maybe better, even, since today is my birthday. Yep, I am a ripe 39 today, and totally happy with it.
Really, there is not much about my life.
I moved to the States from Italy in November 1988 following a puppy love, and Raleigh has since been my home. My husband was in the military in Pisa, Italy, when we met.
I suppose language was my greatest challenge. When I met John (my husband) at the beach, I had bought a cassette course in English, and worked my behind off to learn as much as I could so that we could communicate.
When we got married and I moved here it was yet more challenging. The language learned on cassettes and the colorful spoken treasure of the south were two beasts unknown to each other.
Yet, I was determined. I read everything I could get my hands on, and tried to talk to as many people as possible, even making a fool of myself at times, when they could not understand me, or I couldn't understand them.
Since I left Italy right after High School, I decided to attend NC State. At the time, I also had to work full time, to make ends meet, so those years were so busy that they are almost blurred in my mind.
John and I worked and saved. We bought a small house, had one child. Then, we started a business, bought a bigger house and had two more children.
Meanwhile, I spent my free (few!) hours writing. Writing had always been my innermost passion from the heart, but I didn't feel confident enough to really go public with it yet.
As my kids got a bit older, I found I had more time on my hands; the business was pretty settled, my husband always at work, and my children always busy.
So, I wrote a novel. Just for fun. Just to pass time. When it was completed I let a few friends read it and they liked it. They suggested I try to publish it but I waved them off.
By then, however, they had planted the seed. I started thinking about publishing my work, and began looking for a literary agent. I was rejected more times than I care to count, mostly because I had no other writing credit, so even then, I have to credit my stubborness for continuing.
Finally, in May of this year I signed up with a literary agent.
By then I had two books under my belt, so we began working together toward finalizing both projects.
Both books were just announced yesterday on Publishers Markeplace, and also sent to several publishers, so now I am obviously keeping my fingers and toes crossed!
I guess that's all there is to me.
On a more personal note, I was raised in an average family, and everyone has always been very supportive of me. I grew up in a very spiritual environment, and most of the rules I live by today are the very same rules I learned when I was a child. I try to live my life in peace, respecting myself and others. That said, I have had challenges just like everyone else, but my deep spiritual faith has been the glue which has always kept me together.
Today, my time is shared between raising my children, who are now 13, 10 and almost 4, writing, talking to people about spiritual stuff, and helping my husband out in his business from time to time.
So, this is my life. It is not glamorous, or anything special to the eyes of the world, but it's a life that has been good to me, and I am thankful every time I open my eyes to a new day.

Learning From Our Children

I think everyone agrees that children teach us many lessons.
Through them we learn the meaning of true love, patience and tolerance. One thing that’s certain, life with children is never dull.
One of my sons had struggled a bit with OCD, Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, while growing up. For those who don’t know, OCD is a condition which is mild enough to not really qualify as a disease, yet it causes quite a bit of discomfort, as the person affected is obsessed in repeating things until they get them perfectly. It could be categorized as a more severe case of nervous tics, and is often confused with Turrette Syndrome. During the time we tried to get this condition under control – until my son was old enough to learn how to control certain impulses – he was very uncomfortable with it, as he felt compelled to indulge certain mechanical actions repeatedly and was having difficulties at school because of it, both academically and socially.
Today, Michael no longer struggles with OCD. Time and therapy have worked their magic, and he is now in full control. The tics are gone, and the uncomfortable impulses toward achieving sheer perfection are a thing of the past.
Yet, that brief brush with OCD served a purpose in Michael’s life and, by extension, in the lives of the people close to him.
About a week ago, we were sitting in the kitchen having a cup of tea after Michael got home from school, and we were talking about all the things that had happened in his day.
He told me about a new child who just came to the school, and said that he feels bad for him because the new kid is different and others make fun of him. I asked why he felt the child was different, and Michael said that he “makes strange noises and odd faces”. He spoke about the times he has seen this kid sitting alone and people whispering around, snickering, and related this situation to the time in his life when he felt embarrassed around friends who made fun of him because of his condition. But what truly opened my heart was when Michael sat there, cup of tea in hand and big, blue eyes opened wide to convey a stronger message, and said that he might not feel so bad about this if he hadn’t experienced being ridiculed himself because of something he could not help.
Michael’s condition taught him compassion, and opened his eyes to the fact that one has to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes, sometimes, to truly understand how others feel.
He understood that it is very painful to be shunned and made fun of, and also realized that some things can be overcome.
Since that conversation, Michael and the new child have become friends, and I am sure that this friendship will teach good things to both of them in the long run.
When talking about his future, Michael has always said he would like to be a song writer, but he has now added a new idea. He mentioned that he would like to work in mental health care.
No matter what his future choices will be, I know he will be the best he can be at whatever he does.
And I know he will make a difference in someone’s life because, at a very young age, he found the key to the door of compassion.

Political Ambidexterity: Appreciating the Gray in Between

The fight is on. Whether it’s through vitriol-laced convention speeches or through innuendos and blatant accusations in campaign ads, both sides of the political race focus more on the shortcomings of the opponent than on personal merits.

These past few days –especially since Palin was introduced as the GOP VP choice – well- articulated poisoned arrows have been grazing the skies above.

Both parties have been highly acclaimed and endorsed by their own, and have been heavily criticized by the opponents.

Stating ahead that I am not particularly led by politics, I have to put in my ten cents: where is the candidate who can stand on his or her own merits, without having to dig trash and rely on harvesting votes by mudding the image of their opponent?

As with everything else, we base politics and religion on black and white. If one candidate is good in our eyes, then the other one has to be bad.

Personally, I find the good and bad in both parties, and in both candidates. And it is okay. I respect the traditional values of the GOP, as for some things I am old-school myself. I believe in family unity and in good moral standards. On the other side of the coin, I admire the more embracing views or the Democratic Party, as I feel that if we all have to dance in the same ballroom we might as well learn how to dance together, rather than stepping on each other’s toes.

Ultimately, the main goal is to create an agenda which will benefit the nation, but we seem to have forgotten that, and have turned yet another upcoming election into a paramount soap opera.

Political ambidexterity is truly what we need. We need someone who can lead by the example of his or her own actions, who can embrace pressing issues from all sides and see the gray between black and white. Most of all, we need to stop the childish competition and come together as one nation focused on bringing on changes that can benefit ALL.

One hand cannot do all the work, that’s why we were born with two. And if politically the two hands can shake each other rather than wasting energy in slapping, maybe, just maybe, we can hope to get somewhere.

Of course, just my ten cents.

Waiting for Hanna

As hours pass, and Hurricane Hanna gets closer, anxiety is growing.
As a “Fran survivor”, believe me, I have learned to be ready. I have made my list, checked it twice, and have made sure that no detail is left out. Emergency supplies are ready, the medical kit is stocked, and financial records are bundled together, insurance documents well visible on top. The laundry is done and bills were sent out, in case we lose power and the mailman refuses to be gone with the wind, although the postal service proudly asserts that they will deliver mail in ANY weather.
Now, it is time to relax and simply wait.
Waiting for this sort of thing is the hardest task, and it reminds me of the days before my children were born. No matter how much time and effort I had put into preparing everything for the upcoming event, there was always the nagging feeling that more could, and should, be done. It was almost as if the kids could refuse to come out, or something horrible would happen, if I overlooked the smallest detail.
Although the doctor had assured me that everything was fine, I think I held my breath until I counted fingers and toes and heard them cry. Waiting for Hanna electrifies and scares us the same way. Although she is no child, and everyone would probably prefer to not hear her cry or breathe at all, she is not a huge storm. As I write, she is only a tropical storm, and even if she is expected to intensify, odds are that she won’t be much stronger than a strong cat 1, or weak cat 2, hurricane. Nothing to joke with, but definitely not a killer storm.
This is one of those situations when the fear of the monster is almost bigger than the monster itself. When we think about hurricanes, the images we conjure are those of much larger weather systems hitting on much more vulnerable areas. Raleigh is not New Orleans; we are not below sea level, and the amount of vegetation, which can slow the winds down, is staggering.
That said, I am not suggesting that we should not be prepared. On the contrary, I think everybody needs to be self-responsible and ready for whatever comes; yet, once the preparations are in place, there is no need to keep glued on the Weather Channel and worry about everything. Ultimately, nobody knows what will happen with certainty. Weather forecasting is simply that…forecasting. It is a good guess based on interpretations of computer models, and it can change on a whim.
Panic is easier to spread than Evening Primrose, and in some ways it unites people. When something gets ready to happen, people come together to talk, exchange tips, and often exaggerate what they have heard. If anyone remembers, after a handful of birds had died of the dreaded avian virus, reports of impending doom popped up like mushrooms. According to one documentary, at least one third of the world population was expected to be infected, with no effective treatment available. As it turned out, few people died of the Avian Flu, and most of those who did were bird handlers.
So, let’s not give in to panic. No matter what, we can’t do much more than getting ready. Freaking out over things that may or may not happen will not make us more resilient.

The Tree of Life

As I was sitting on my deck, sipping iced tea while my husband grilled baby back ribs, yesterday afternoon, a storm quickly approached from the South.
The wind suddenly increased, ruffling the green mane of the trees in the woods behind my house, and the sweet scent of rain quickly permeated the air.
I sat back and watched the trees gently dancing; somehow I thought of the time when Hurricane Fran unexpectedly came into Raleigh, and I remembered the staggering amount of trees that bowed in its presence. At the time, I lived in a house situated under the shady umbrella of a large Poplar, and I held my breath while Fran came through, hoping the tree would not fall and slice my house like a birthday cake.
Thankfully, the Poplar didn’t fall; however, as I was able to assess the next morning during a brief walk in the neighborhood, many other trees hadn’t been as blessed, and were now sadly laying on the ground, some of them resting over roofs and cars.
The thing that struck me at the time was that most of the fallen trees were larger ones, but I think I was too overwhelmed with the whole situation to give that minor detail any further thought.
As I sat on my deck yesterday, however, that scene came back into mind, and it quickly correlated to the attitudes people assume as they walk through life.
Some, like the larger trees, remain rigidly in their position, ready to defy the approaching storm, and prepared to stand their ground. When the storms are of low to medium intensity they are able to stand proudly, barely allowing the winds to ruffle their hair. Yet, when hit by a particularly strong storm, the rigid and apparently powerful posture becomes their curse, and often leads to sure death and uprooting.
The smaller, thinner trees don’t tower over anything, and they are certainly not impressive as they are violently thrust in the powerful winds. Yet, after the storm, most of them are still standing, and are able to thrive on the nourishment provided by the decomposition of the demised larger trees. Their smaller stature has allowed them to follow the wind, rather than fight it. Similarly, people who keep an open mind, and are able to sway with the currents of change, are going to be the ones who will stand at the end of the storm. Flexibility will ensure their survival.
Life moves like quicksilver, and we constantly have to adjust to different fads, trends, and ideas; although it is good to maintain our focus on those elements that have sustained our survival through the ages, it is also important to realize that everything evolves. By sticking too rigidly to thoughts and ideals that no longer fit the current need, we fail to serve ourselves and the rest of society.
It is in our greater interest to allow ourselves to be flexible enough when the storms come, and not solely rely on the strength of our roots.
Then, maybe, we will still be here after the storms have finally cleared.