A Very Special Mission

In the aftermath of Teghan Alyssa Skiba’s senseless death, people are shaking their heads. http://abclocal.go.com/wtvd/story?section=news/local&id=7564831
Whenever a child dies, many wonder why such young lives are prematurely ripped away rather than given the opportunity to live out their full existence on this earth. Whether it is because of an accident, disease, or even murder as in the case of little Teghan, the death of someone young is always a hard one to accept. It is common to hear people discredit a Higher Power and think that if a God truly exists He would not allow people to suffer and children to die.

But what if this the short time they have lived was the entire amount of time a soul was allotted for this earthly trip? What if their mission was only one of support for other souls?

In my personal set of beliefs, I think that we are born with a specific purpose, which will help us learn some of the lessons our soul needs to master before evolving. Each soul may have fewer or more lessons to learn than others, and that – along with the time needed to produce the right situations – determines the length of our stay. Once we pass on, we review what we have learned, and the lessons we haven’t mastered will have to be repeated again. Some souls reach the point of having mastered all the fundamental lessons, and it is up to them if they want to remain within the realms of light or go back to be a support system for the souls that still have to learn more.

Most of the young people who pass away are usually described as extremely loving and peaceful, and their brief stay is an undeniable gift to those who have been fortunate enough to have them in their lives, if only for a short while. There is no telling what kind of lessons they are supporting, but their presence will always leave a strong mark. They are angels who take the time to come down, and mingle with us for a breath of time, to make sure that other souls can learn to fly a little bit higher.

Drama, My Love...

“I want to feel passion, I want to feel pain. I want to weep at the sound of your name. Come make me laugh, come make me cry…just make me feel alive” ~ Joey Lauren Adams


Sometimes I don’t think we realize how much we enjoy drama – even those of us who claim to denounce it completely. We love and fear it at the same time, mixing an intoxicating cocktail that speeds the heart and inebriates the mind. Even if many of us will never own up to it, we welcome drama in our lives, for even if it turns our lives upside down, it allows us to appreciate certain things we wouldn’t notice otherwise.

We live to experience thrills – a fast car, a heart-stopping ride at the fair, a good thriller on TV, a dangerous storm – because through it all we feel alive.

Love for drama is evident in everything that surrounds us, from the entertainment we choose, to the choices we make in life. Indeed living a life free of drama is possible, but it gets boring pretty fast. Staring at the crystal-clear water of a shallow pool is pleasant for a while, but it doesn’t take long before one craves the dangerous waves produced by a storm at sea.

Very few things create an electrical charge the way drama does. Through our connection with others we activate energetic extremes – positive and negative, both necessary to initiate a shock. We love some deeply and “hate” others with just as much passion; once the two charges meet, they create a current that keeps us electrified and in motion.

Drama is the earthly force that keeps us anchored to our human role. As unsettling as it is, it serves a purpose if taken in small doses, for without its powerful influence we would easily skip over many of the lessons our soul needs to learn. In so many ways, drama connects people on different levels.

Just as with any TV program, we have the power to end it just by switching the channel of our focus. And we never have to worry about losing the remote.

The Teacher Who Came Dresses as a Monster

“A great teacher is like a candle – it consumes itself to light the way for others.” ~ Author unknown


A few months ago, I read somewhere that the two greatest teachers of compassion the world has ever seen are Hitler and the Dalai Lama. Being a huge fan of the Dalai Lama but personally not too sold on Hitler, this statement struck me as strange – how could anyone compare a holy man whose life purpose is to spread peace and compassion, to a military figure whose intent seemed to be one fed by hatred?

The question hovered around my thoughts the whole day, until that night when one of my children misbehaved, and I had no choice left but punish him by not letting him attend an event he had his heart set on. Now, if you were a fly in my house, you would know that my two boys argue over anything under the sun, and sometimes even about something above it; any chance they have to get the other in trouble they jump on it like a cowboy on a horse. But, this time, one brother had gotten in trouble all on his own, with no trickery necessary, so the natural order of things was upset.

Suddenly, one would have thought that I had given an innocent man a death sentence – not just one kid was mad at me…they all were, including Morgan who normally gets stumped by her big brothers and thrives on seeing them get what they deserve! Never had I seen so much love and compassion among my kids as I saw that night – they talked kindly to one another, and went overboard with small pleasantries that were, until that fateful day, a mother’s wishful thinking.

That’s when the meaning of that statement made it home. Certainly Hitler and the Dalai Lama are very different people, and they affect others in their own unique ways, but the teaching behind their actions is similar in the end – one inspired the world to feel compassionate toward people who had suffered from his heinous acts, while the other inspired his followers to be compassionate because compassion is part of the truth our collective soul must embrace.

We are conditioned to think of a teacher as someone who will lead through knowledge and wisdom alone, but sometimes teachers come masked in strange clothes. And, oddly enough, we tend to learn more, and much more quickly, since our attention is instantly seized from explosive events and actions. It might take us a lifetime to learn to appreciate a sunrise, or a kind smile, but if we find out our days are threatened by illness, that awareness will surface with light speed, as we feel we don’t have any time to lose.

Before going to bed that night, I thought again about the comparison between the two men, and about my children instantly pulling together after one was “too harshly” punished. In my children’s situation, anger and resentment toward the external force that had thrown one of their own into the dungeon, had caused them to choose love over sibling rivalry. I closed my eyes, feeling satisfied; though in their eyes I had momentarily morphed into Hitler, they had embraced the qualities of the Dalai Lama I admire so much. Only for one evening, mind you, but that was good enough for me.


www.sandracarringtonsmith.com

The Sun and the Watery Tower

"Keep your mind on the things you want and off the things you don't want." ~ Hannah Whitall Smith


A few months ago I had a recurring dream. In the dream, my family and I were driving somewhere near the beach, and suddenly a wall of water rose from the ocean and formed an extremely tall and terrifying tower of water. In one dream, we were on the higher level of a parking deck when the first wave came down, and although panic was quickly spreading all around us, we knew we were safe.

After that, I had similar version of the same dream on different occasion, but one of them in particular really caught my attention. Unlike the majority of dreams which are nothing more than snippets of unrelated debris from the previous day, this dream was as clear as a film; if I close my eyes right now, I can still see it.

In the dream, my family and I were once again driving parallel to the coast, looking at crashing waves while we pleasantly cruised along. Unexpectedly, the sky turned dark toward the southeast and the wind began to blow. Suddenly, the water started receding, and it pulled itself up in a tower ever higher and scarier than the one in preceding dreams. I stood in front of it, knowing that it was only a matter of time before it would fall back down. Standing in front of the powerful mass of water - so high up in the sky I couldn’t even see the top – panic seized my entire being. I looked up at the dark water ready to swallow me in its fluid bite and then closed my eyes, hoping to savor the last few moments on this earth.

A thought flashed through my mind. Without wasting any time on rationalizing whether it would work or not, I opened my eyes, and turned to look toward the west, where the sun was still shining. I tried my best to detach from the feeling of fear gripping my very soul, and focused on the healing power of the sun. As I kept my concentration centered on the sun, I could see with the corner of my eye that the tower of water was getting smaller. Without questioning what was happening I continued doing just that – I ignored the fear and focused on the one thing that, I felt in my heart, could neutralize the killer wave. The mass of water continued shrinking, until, finally, it disappeared.

I don’t remember much about the rest of the dream, aside from the fact that we were back in the car and driving to some other location.

When I woke up the next morning, I couldn’t shake the dream, and continued to think about it for the next several days. I still occasionally do, although I no longer feel a sense of dread when I think of the wall of water looming over us. I believe this dream contained a powerful lesson, for it highlighted our ability to fight adversities by focusing our energy on their opposites.

We might be powerless in front of some seemingly insurmountable threats in our path, but something exists which can neutralize each of them. There is no ill in the world without an antidote; to find it we need to understand the nature of what is looming in front of us and beam our energy in the opposite direction. Some monsters can be big and scary, but it is comforting to know their opposites pack just as powerful a punch.

Ghosts of the Past

“It is easy to be negative about past mistakes and unhappiness. But it is much more healing to look at ourselves and our past in the light of experience, acceptance, and growth. Our past is a series of lessons that advance us to higher levels of living and loving. The relationships we entered, stayed in, or ended taught us necessary lessons. Some of us have emerged from the most painful circumstances with strong insights about who we are and what we want. Our mistakes? Necessary. Our frustrations, failures, and sometimes stumbling attempts at growth and progress? Necessary too. Each step of the way, we learned. We went through exactly the experiences we need to, to become who we are today. Each step of the way, we progressed. Is our past a mistake? No. The only mistake we can make is mistaking that for the truth. Today, God, help me let go of negative thoughts I may be harboring about my past circumstances or relationships. I can accept, with gratitude, all that has brought me to today.” ~ Author unknown

It’s quite amazing how one can look at things from different points of perspective and see completely different things. Looking at our past is no different.

Those who have read my thoughts before already know that I am a strong supporter of wiping the board clean and starting things anew. There is little benefit in dwelling in the past, and feeding energy to events and people that are – or should be – ancient history; unless, of course, we need to clean house before we close the doors to their roles in our lives. At some point, it’s best to count our losses, and understand that as long as we live in the past, we willingly forfeit our present and future.

The past, however, is part of the blueprint we used to build the person we are today. Even if it is good to detach from the emotional charge attached to particular moments and significant individuals that have touched our lives in a negative way, it is also important to realize that we wouldn’t be who we are today if those events hadn’t happened, or those people hadn’t walked into our lives.

On a personal note, when I was kid I was the perfect image of the nerd minus the double-lens glasses. I was too skinny and geeky, and, like a puppy, my feet had grown ahead of the rest of my body. To make things even less attractive to a crowd of judgmental teenagers, I also loved to read and was extremely shy – the perfect recipe for an outcast. Being shunned hurt my feelings back then, but I can see now, many years later, how that superficial rejection helped me bring out the best I had.

Since I was never busy on social calls, I decided to throw myself into volunteer work. I helped everyone on my path, and felt good about it. When I was old enough, I signed up as a volunteer EMT, took a course, and started working after school. That was probably one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself; after seeing true suffering, my teenage problems suddenly seemed really minor. And, that first shot at community service set the tone for more volunteer work through the years, which helped me increase my level of compassion.

Another thing I threw myself into was writing. I loved poetry, and I spent my free time writing. One day, when I was sixteen, I met a lady who was president of a writing club. She read some of my poems, and helped me get them published; from that day on, most Saturday afternoons I attended meetings at the literary club. The usual crowd was a lot older than me, but I felt totally at ease around them.

As hard as it was to deal with that type of social response as a teenager, the hardship of it is what pushed me to explore alternative interests and peeled the layers covering my true strengths. Rejection from my peer is what led me to the person I am today, and I wonder sometimes how different my life would be right now if I had been part of the popular crowd as a kid.

The past is past, and it shouldn’t be allowed to hurt us anymore, since it is only a ghost of things that have already run their time, but it should also be embraced with gratitude, as over time it has etched the unique individual we have become.

A Prayer for The Saints

“Dreams are like the paint of a great artist. Your dreams are your paints, the world is your canvas. Believing is the brush that converts your dreams into a masterpiece of reality.” ~ Author unknown


Last night, the New Orleans Saints brought home the smashing victory they deserved, and they taught my kids a valuable lesson.

Let me express first that I am not usually a big football fan, but since I consider New Orleans my true home from the heart, I would support anything that comes out of it, even if that means watching a long game I hardly understand the rules of.

Aside from me and my husband – he’s not really a fan of the Saints, but doesn’t dislike them either – my boys were pulling for the Colts. When in the first quarter the Saints were losing by ten points, my oldest son came up to me in the kitchen and said: “I told you that your boys were going to lose, mom” to which I firmly and proudly replied: “ The Saints will win, even if it’s not going to happen until after half time.” My son, not wanting to back down, and giving in to the arrogance of youth, made a huge mistake. “You really think so? I will bet my next week’s allowance that the Colts are going to win.” His brother, not wanting to be left far behind joined in, “I bet my allowance too. The Saints will lose.”

So, I agreed to accept their bets, and I decided to add a little energy to the whole thing; hey, after all, I have spent my whole life praying to the real New Orleans saints, right? Asking for a little favor could not possibly be crossing the line too much. I picked up a red candle, anointed it with success oil, clear the path oil, honey and bay leaves, and then lit it up visualizing the Saints holding the trophy. Then, satisfied that my wish had made it up to the ether and certain of the outcome, I left the game and went upstairs to watch a movie with my daughter, not giving the game another thought.

About ten minutes before the end of the game, my youngest son came upstairs and asked if we could call off the bets because he and his brother were feeling a little guilty siding with a team from up north. Ha! Good try! I refused to dissolve the bets and he walked back downstairs, a little disappointed.

As history had it, the Saints won, and they didn’t just win, they stomped on the Colts! I went downstairs carrying my laptop while Louis Armstrong sang “When the Saints Go Marching in” on Youtube. The moment I got to the bottom of the stairs, six eyes were staring me down – “You cheated, mom!” said the first one, “I never really wanted the Colts to win,” said the other, “I just did it for the money.”

Now, that was really something to talk about. Although in the beginning they were all talking about wanting the Saints to win, they allowed themselves to be swayed by the opinions of others over the odds of each team. Since the Colts were favored by many, they assumed it was not possible for the Saints to win. “You know nothing about football, mom” said my oldest son, “I didn’t think you could predict right when so many others said the Saints would lose.”

And indeed, that taught them a valuable lesson. Rather than sticking by what they believed, they followed what others were saying, and they lost track of what they wanted. In my heart, I had no doubt the Saints would win, especially after I set my wish and let it get out into the Universe. As Voltaire once said: “Faith consists in believing when it is beyond the power of reason to believe.” I hope that from now on, my kids will learn to think with their own minds and put a little more faith in the power of prayer.

Behind the Scenes of Karma and Acceptance

Among the things that are hardest for some people to do, accepting help or blessings probably ranks toward the top of the list.

In many cases, the awkward feeling we experience when presented with a gift goes back to how we feel about ourselves. We are conditioned, since early childhood, to associate rewards with “good behavior”. In our minds, in order to reap fruits, we must know we deserve them, and many times we fall short of our own expectations.

We’ve all seen people who seem to have all the luck, while some others appear to walk from one disaster to the next. Many describe this as Karma. We experience good Karma when we feel in our hearts that we have done the right thing and have lived according to our system of beliefs. When we feel we are “good”, good things come to us. We project good thoughts out because we feel at peace and happy, and those feelings allow us to accept whatever blessings are on our path. Similarly, bad Karma works on the same principles. If we have done something we feel bad about, or have indulged behaviors that are condemned by our system of beliefs, then we feel we must be punished, rather than rewarded. We put a lock on the door of blessings, and open that of misery instead.

Traditionally, karma is believed to be something we carry along through lifetimes until we have experienced what we have caused in the past. One wise man whose name now I can’t recall, once said that if you wish to discover who you were in your past life, or who you will be in the next one, you should look at the life you are currently living. Looking at the big picture, it’s not hard to see how that process would work – our body dies, but our soul remains and continues to record experiences through different incarnations until we “get” all the lessons we are supposed to assimilate. Interestingly, in the field of child psychology, children are observed during play sessions, while they “act out’ their blocks. The human mind needs to rehearse events it doesn’t have a clear picture of, and repeats their pattern until the cycle is broken by an outside catalyst. When our inner blocks trigger an emotional charge to external events, we subconsciously set out to “replay” the original block.

Our subconscious mind – connected to the mind of all creation – has two roles; the first is to store information catalogued according to the emotional charge attached to it; the second is to pick up “thoughts” and requests filtered through the rational mind, and manifest them into our daily reality. Learning how to accept involves learning how to get rid of buried guilt and feelings of low self-worth. Each of us deserves to be happy, regardless of what we might feel bad about – consciously or subconsciously.

So, rather than “you shouldn’t have”, our response to someone offering a gift should simply be “Thank you”. After all, if that person, or Universe itself, decides to bless you with something, you are, obviously, worthy of it.

In the Christian belief, Jesus told sick people they were forgiven for their sins, before he told them they could get up and walk, or go back home and find their child healed. Once they felt their sins, and the guilt associated with them, were lifted, they were ready to accept the blessings.

A psychologist in Hawaii, convinced that perception affects our personal reality, decided to try a test. He became acquainted with a group of violent inmates, and every day he took ten to fifteen minutes to sit still and repeat a simple mantra: “I love and I forgive”. When he repeated those simple words, over and over, he did not choose to direct those words to a specific person, but only to attract a positive emotional charge within himself. In less than a month, as his perception of them had shifted, the behavior of the inmates had greatly improved.

Ultimately, we can change our reality. All we need to do is believe it, forgive ourselves for what we can’t change, and know that we are good enough to receive the blessings already on their way.

Judge Not - A Reflection on Interfering in the Lives of Others

“We can never judge the lives of others, because each person knows only their own pain and renunciation. It’s one thing to feel that you are on the right path, but it’s another to think yours is the only path.” ~ Paulo Coelho


Yesterday afternoon I was talking to someone who’s struggling with her conscience about not being able to help a friend in need. After we talked for a while, my friend explained some of the problems her friend is having, and asked what I would do in her place if, like her, I couldn’t afford to give the friend financial support. After helping this lady on several occasions in the past, she is unable to help her with the current crisis, and she feels as if she is abandoning her friend to an unkind destiny.

My first question to her was about faith. The majority of us live our lives without ever even figuring out our own purpose on earth; could we possibly be aware of the purpose others came to fulfill? One of the greatest lessons most spiritual paths teach us is to not judge, but I believe that through time and multiple translations of sacred texts, the main meaning of that lesson has been lost, or in the least, greatly changed.

Not judging others doesn’t only mean that we shouldn’t judge their actions against our scale of right and wrong, but rather, it also means that we shouldn’t judge their potential, or their need to be living a specific reality. The people we so badly wish to help might have the means to help themselves, if empowered enough by the unfolding of events; by denying them the chance of standing on their own, we also deprive them of the ability to discover their own strengths, and we shield them from the reality of their own poor choices, the awareness of which is fundamental to move past certain blocks. Each of us has a reservoir of creative energy, which often remains locked up until survival kicks in.

While it is hard to watch a friend go through hard times, it is important to remember that each of us have a different destiny to fulfill. We may have come to learn a lesson of patience, while our friend is instead here to learn about faith; as much as we would love to make everyone’s life better, by interfering with the process we are also slowing the course of their learning – if they don’t learn one way, since we are meddling with things, something even more challenging might come their way to finally open their eyes.

We should remain compassionate and understanding of the fact that we can’t judge the circumstances of others until we have filled their shoes, as things always look different from the outside looking in, but if we are unable to help, it may very well be a sign that we need to leave things alone. We can offer emotional support, and let our friends know we care about them; if we can relieve their hardship temporarily without passing judgment, and give them a chance to get on their feet, we should be ready and honored to do so, but in no way, shape or form, should we feel guilty for not walking their paths for them or for not having the means to help.

Allowing others to live their own destinies can be an uncomfortable experience, partly because it forces us to relinquish the control we have over people and things around us, which is a rarely acknowledged part of our security blanket. That’s when faith comes in – in the greater scheme of things, there are no wrong paths; there are just paths that aren’t right for us and our purpose. The roads others walk might appear wrong in our judgment of things, but they might be exactly what their souls need in order to evolve.

We are the captains of our own ships, but when it comes to the route of other vessels, we must trust in the fact that somewhere deep inside they are aware of their own destinations, and perfectly capable to sail through the crashing waves.

The Roles We Play (repost)

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 understanding who we truly are.

The Little Shell on the Mantel

“What seems to us as bitter trials are often blessings in disguise.” ~ Oscar Wilde




Very few sounds are as calming as the rhythmic rumble of the ocean – a primal call able to steal the mind from daily clutter and gently deliver it on an uncharted island of inner stillness.

It was to that sound that I awoke my first morning at the beach; I listened intently to the natural melody filtering through the open window and aligned my breathing pattern with the rhythm of the waves until my mind began to wander off. It was a perfect moment of peace – a vague recollection of life in the womb, of warmth, of complete comfort and safety; an awareness of nothing needed beyond the now.

I finally arose and went to sit on the deck overlooking the ocean to drink my first cup of coffee. The scenery surrounding me was nothing short of stunning – a cobalt sky sharply highlighted by puffy white clouds in the west, and the sun splashing the horizon with hues of rose and yellow dripping in the water below; in the distance, seagulls flew in perfect formation, followed by a lone sandpiper madly flapping its wings to keep up with the group of larger birds.

As I stared in awe, my attention was piqued by the glistening shells deposited by the nocturnal high tide and now temporarily exposed as sparkling jewels in a store window; since everyone was still asleep, I dressed quickly and walked down to the shore.

I mindlessly picked up a few of the shells on my path – although many were only broken pieces of the originals, I managed to find a few that were intact. Suddenly I saw one that I found quite interesting; the shell itself was pierced in several places but still whole, and attached to it were all sorts of marine goodies – a small piece of metal, an equally tiny piece of old wood, other smaller shells, and some hard matter I couldn’t identify which glued everything together.

That shell had been around for a while. It had been battered and thrown around several times, holes and scars being proof of its rollercoaster ride; foreign objects had attached themselves to its body, probably weighing it down and ruining some of its original beauty, yet the shell was sturdier and stronger because of their presence.

Even things that we consider damaging or hindering do serve a purpose at times – they might teach us a lesson, slow down our mad rush to nowhere so that we can appreciate what we have at that particular moment, or they might just be there to oddly support us and make us stronger for the next time we get caught in an unfriendly wave.

I took the shell home, washed it and placed it on a well-visible place on my mantel, so that I may remember – next time I feel weighed down by external demands – that if it wasn’t for the extra shield provided by the clutter and the unexpected, the little shell would have been but a broken piece washed in and out by the waves, never to be appreciated and cherished as the magnificent and resilient centerpiece it is.

A Reflection on Forgiveness

“To forgive is to set a prisoner free and discover that the prisoner was you” ~ Lewis B. Smedes


A few days ago, someone sent me a short story about forgiveness which I would like to share. The author of the story is unknown to me, since the name was not included in the e-mail, but whoever wrote this piece truly hit the proverbial nail on the head.

“One of my teachers had each one of us bring a clear plastic bag and a sack of potatoes. For every person we'd refused to forgive in our lives, we were told to choose a potato, write on it the name and date, and put it in the plastic bag. Some of our bags, as you can imagine, were quite heavy.

We were then told to carry this bag with us everywhere for one week, putting it beside our bed at night, on the car seat when driving, next to our desk at work.

The hassle of lugging this around with us made it clear what a weight we were carrying spiritually, and how we had to pay attention to it all the time to not forget, and keep leaving it in embarrassing places.

Naturally, the condition of the potatoes deteriorated to a nasty slime. This was a great metaphor for the price we pay for keeping our pain and heavy negativity.

Too often we think of forgiveness as a gift to the other person, and while that's true, it clearly is also a gift for ourselves. So the next time you decide you can't forgive someone, ask yourself...Isn't MY bag heavy enough?”

Sad as it is, the struggle of forgiving is always harder when we feel we are the ones who need to be forgiven. We carry burdens which we consider embarrassing to reveal, and by keeping them concealed we further enable the putrefying process - what we keep sealed inside ourselves lurks within until it has total power over our thoughts and actions,

Lack of self-forgiveness is born from the ego-mind - and engineered through tainted points of perspective - to defy the flawless perception of our higher consciousness, while slowly eroding our sense of self-worth and our connection to others.

If God can forgive our transgressions, should we not give Him a little more credit and trust that it is okay to forgive ourselves?

On a Journey to Learn

“Here is a test to find out whether your mission in life is complete. If you're alive, it isn't.” ~ Richard Bach



I have always believed that our souls come to Earth to learn certain lessons.

In the last couple of decades there has been a tremendous amount of speculation over “life contracts” – do we choose our lives, our parents, who we are? Do we pick the type of body we will inhabit and the socio-cultural circumstances we are born into?

Many struggle understanding why certain things happen; why children get sick and die, why we find ourselves stuck in certain predicaments – how could we possibly have chosen any of those trials?

Indeed it is hard to accept that any decision on our part is partly responsible for our falls, and it’s even harder to accept that a loving God could allow some of senseless suffering we and others go through, but if one can momentarily entertain the thought that life contracts are a possibility, the whole concept becomes suddenly easier to grasp.

We don’t choose to be sick, to be poor or abused, and no god is evil enough to bestow those tragedies upon us. However, since certain life circumstances can facilitate learning a specific lesson better than others, it only makes sense that our soul stipulates an earthly contract based on what still needs to be learned. Once the choice of lesson is made, Universe arranges our stay and “books” us on a trip filled with unique experiences tailored exclusively for our learning. We state the soul need, and Universe takes care of the details of the journey.

Every situation is as different as are the lessons that must be learned, and because of it, no generalization can possibly be made.

It’s also important to note that the mission of a soul may simply be that of supporting another soul – a sick child might only stay for a short while to teach parents the meaning of true love and the importance of living day by day; living in a crippled body might teach someone to accept their true-selves; poverty might teach someone how to be humble.

The possibilities are too numerous to list, but what is truly interesting in some cases, is that if one is able to identify a lesson through the patterns, a new route can be mapped to reach destination minus part of the suffering.

Lessons Come in Many Packages

"There is no such thing in anyone's life as an unimportant day." ~ Alexander Woollcott




If anyone asked, I’m certain my children would have replied that yesterday was not a special day – a list of chores was awaiting all of us in preparation of our upcoming vacation and the beginning of school.

The boys were requested to clean their rooms and one bathroom each, vacuum and organize the toys in the playroom. Most of the chores were attended with little fuss, but when it came to the bathrooms they instantly began to drag their feet.

Instantly switching to drill sergeant mode, I told them they had to fulfill their tasks or else. I don’t expect perfection, but a piece of cardboard and an orphan bottle cap can hardly be defined part of the décor, so I made them go back a few times to clean what they had left behind; needless to say, they generously huffed and puffed the whole time.

I also made them help their little sister with her chores, and bring a stick of butter to an old neighbor – by the end of the day, they told me I would have done well as a slave owner. By the time their father got home, and asked how their day was, they both said their day was boring and mom was mean as a hornet, to which, of course, my husband replied that some day they will be thankful that mom didn’t allow them to slack off.

My oldest son thought about it for a moment and turned toward his brother. “He’s right” he said, “I’ve actually learned something cool today”. My jaw dropped at this point, although I tried very hard to pretend I was eating. My husband asked what he learned, and Stephen said: “I saw that as a team we get things done quickly, and mom’s critique showed me that my job wasn’t done right - once I start something I need to finish it. And I also learned that it is okay to stop what I’m doing to help someone else who’s smaller or needy.”

I wasn’t even pretending to eat any more. I was so surprised at my son’s wisdom that I didn’t care if I looked like a deer in the headlights at that moment. He was right. An ordinary day – and a hard and boring one at that – had turned into a learning experience.

Every day is a new page in the book of life, and by going through the motions of our routines we learn things we take for granted.

In one day of cleaning, my sons learned the meaning of compassion helping a neighbor in need and their little sister; they learned the power of teamwork; they learned they should never leave a job until it is completely done; most of all, they learned that a good lesson can hide behind the most boring of tasks.

They also learned that mom can be a slave driver at times, but that’s a story for another day.

When Our Mistakes Become Who We Are

“Just because you make a mistake doesn’t mean you are a mistake.” - Georgette Mosbacher


A few days ago I had an interesting conversation with a lady I met through a friend. She was telling me about her failed marriage, and said that after many years of enduring verbal and emotional abuse she finally decided to count her losses and leave.

It took her so long, she said, because her children were young and she was afraid of not being able to financially weather the separation. She had gone to college before meeting her husband, and had dropped out when she had become pregnant with her first daughter. After that, she had been a stay-at-home mom, and her children had been the light of her existence. She stated that being a mom had been the only thing she knew how to do.

I looked at her in surprise – certainly there has to be something else she is good at and likes to do. When I told her that, her eyes filled with tears. She said that no matter how hard she tries she is a failure by nature. That chilled my blood. Her husband had pointed out her mistakes so often that she had come to believe she could do nothing right. She believed she is the mistake.

After being exposed so long to the verbal attacks, her mind had looked for a reason to justify the abuse, and had come to accept that she deserves it somehow. She felt incapable, unattractive and helpless, regardless of the fact that she is a beautiful and skilled woman.

As we delved deeper into the conversation, she volunteered a little more information – her father had also been quite verbally abusive. She knew he always loved her but had never really accepted that she was different than he.

Her wounds had been patiently etched into the core of her self-worth over time, and at the hands of multiple people. There was a pattern at work here, and I wondered if she was even aware of it. By assuming that her father was right in his criticism – after all he loved her and wouldn’t lie to her, would he? – she had come to accept that she was unworthy of his love. Feeling subconsciously guilty of causing her father unneeded grief, she had sought to continue the punishment he had “lovingly” inflicted on her by marrying a man who was similar to him.

When I pointed out the similarity, she was genuinely surprised and oddly recharged. She asked if I made mistakes often, to which I could only smile - If mistakes were a monetary fund I could easily be set for retirement. Yet, learning from my mistakes has led me to be the person I am today, and I wouldn’t change them for anything.

Mistakes don’t define our character but rather display the mechanisms we use in response to challenges. Someone once said that the worst mistake is our fear of making mistakes, as being afraid to fail will prevents us from trying. Actions can be a mistake, not people. I hope that someday she will be strong enough to see that.