Category: perspective

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What If Today…

I want to share something that I wrote for a dear friend of mine recently. It was intended to provide a spark to ignite a different way of viewing life. It was something that I needed. As with all of my posts, the thoughts and words arrive for me and then moved outward into the world.

The post is a dream in a way. Of a richer life. And of course, as it is in all cases, it depends on what we choose. I wonder to myself what will I choose, I wonder too, what will you choose?

What if today…

What if today…I choose to believe…to truly accept and embrace…that every single thing that happens to me is here to benefit me. What if I choose to see beyond appearances and all of the things that blind me. What if I give myself permission to believe that I am loved and cared for and know that everything I experience in my life is there to offer me something of value. That no matter what the world tells me, I can choose my own path. What if I embrace that my heart and spirit are the ones that set me free.

What if today I release any need to control the uncontrollable. What if I spruce up my ability to yield and let go of all the things that weigh me down…to set them aside and feel the precious liberation and the expansive freedom that choice creates.

What if today I collect all the most lovable parts of me and hug them and ask them to spread their joy throughout my body…my life.

What if today I allow every sorrow, pain, challenge, and concern to take the day off…to rest…what if I placed them all gently in the ocean of bliss that is my true home, where they can be washed clean.

What if, for one day, I give up needing to be in charge of anything and allow life to flow gently through me.

What if today…I breathe in peace and breathe out love.

What if today…is that day.

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Biases

I wonder, how many of my biases am I in charge of? Can I escape any of them? Can I blame them on my cultural training or the belief systems I’ve adopted from those who’ve influenced me?

Part of me wants to accept this, but another part responds simply with an old-time expression which dates me, “what a cop out”, which loosely translates as, I’m in charge of my own decisions and can’t blame anything or anyone else. I have to own it.

I don’t like the way I feel when my biases get out of their cages. It rattles me and fills me with a sense of unhappiness.

It’s as if there is some tiny war being fought inside of me, with opposing forces that clash with no clear winner, just a repeating dynamic where one part is upset with a person or action, while another part preaches tolerance and acceptance.

I desperately want to break this cycle, but how?

To begin with, maybe it would be helpful to reframe my aim. Using the word, ‘break’, implies a struggle and I find that when any internal struggling is involved it creates its own challenge, because a part of me seems to know I can’t fix anything while still divided within myself.

I think, maybe I can shift my perspective and find a way to create a collaborative approach, one that seeks a peaceful solution, free from blame or shame. That feels better.

Where to start?

I wonder if it would help me to know where each bias comes from or why I still hold on to them.

I sit back and ponder this.

As with so many other things, I realize that trying to locate the source is a rabbit hole for me, a dead-end that only serves to delay addressing the real issue. Perhaps it works the same way for you.

A better way for me is to ‘head into the storm’ and focus on my bias directly. What are they really saying to me, what are they saying about me.

Why have I accepted some biases as truth? Why do some live inside of me, others do not?

I look at my biases one by one to see if there is some commonality that offers me insight and a way forward. I’m shocked by how unaccepting I can be of others’ behaviors. I didn’t think that kind of intolerance lived inside of me.

But it does.

I try to avoid blaming myself for it, knowing this will not help me or fix anything. In fact, it only complicates matters.

One striking similarity is that my biases represent my desire for others to conform to my belief system and to act the way I think they should.

WHAM! I feel the crushing weight of my word choice…SHOULD. I thought I’d dropped that word from my vocabulary, but no, it popped right out. I tried to retire the word…should…because it implies that there is only one acceptable way to do or see things and I don’t believe that. Given that I am trying to understand my predisposition regarding my own biases, it’s the perfect word to appear. It clearly shows me what I need to see.

All of my biases are about conformity with beliefs I’ve adopted. Whenever I observe actions or behaviors outside my limits, a bias kicks in.

Now I can shift my perspective and can consciously expand my range. I can loosen my hold over beliefs that don’t serve me or others. I can realize that rarely is anyone doing anything TO me. They’re just living their own lives, based on their own choices and it’s not necessary or helpful for me to have or exercise an opinion about their choices. Even more to the point, I don’t know what their life is like and have no reasonable basis for forming any opinions about them.

One final insight washes over me. It comes in the form of a question…what is the most loving action I can take?

The answer is clear to me. I can love them just as they are. That is certainly something I want to do, so I’m going to refocus my energy and try my best to do just that.

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Endings and Beginnings

It occurred to me recently that there are a lot of examples of endings in my life. Some of them are okay with me, but others are filled with sadness. Perhaps you face the same thing in your life, despite our examples being different.

I’ve been spending a great deal of time preparing for a garage sale that my daughter, Jenny and I are having soon. It involves a huge number of decisions on my part. Maybe like others, my basement is a certifiable disaster area. Years ago, we had a flood and I had to throw out a ton of stuff but felt other things would be safe. It turns out, they weren’t. Over the years they’ve acquired a terrible, damp, moldy smell and they have to go.

Fortunately, there are salvageable items. Enough so that I had to make literally 50 trips from the basement to the garage.

Among the items were my golf clubs, which generated my first ‘ending’. I’ve kept them in the basement even though I haven’t played in years and am unlikely to ever play again. But I kept them there because I wasn’t ready to admit to myself that I was done playing. I have very pleasant memories of playing golf, being out on the course, walking on the freshly cut grass, among family or friends, sharing both the good and bad shots. Even though my back won’t tolerate playing any more, I was reluctant to give them up. It was too sad an ending for me.

On several racks, taking up a lot of space, was all of my camping gear. My best friend, Doug, and I did a great deal of camping and canoeing together, and we both loved it. Being out in nature, testing ourselves and our skills against the challenges, was a wonderful experience. To put these things in the trash or the garage sale meant I was done with them. That it’s over. More sorrow for me.

There are other endings that surround me.

When I was seventeen and on my high school’s JV soccer team I was on the field and got hit directly in the face with a soccer ball. It hurt but I recovered. Unfortunately, my two front teeth took the brunt of the force, and both were damaged. Over the years they discolored and a couple weeks ago, my left front tooth had to be extracted. I’m now left with a big gap until it can be repaired. The surgery and recovery were quite painful, and I really miss my tooth. I can’t bite anything with my other front tooth at this point, so have to cut up my food. I miss eating like I used to, and it feels like an ending to me.

Other endings surfaced when I started thinking about this topic. Among them are the loss of friends, whether to cancer or suicide or moving away. No matter the reason, it’s hard to take because they each represent an ending to me and are filled with sadness.

I needed to sit back, to pause and consider, what does all of this mean to me? Where do I put the pain, sorrow, and sadness? What other way might I see this to gain a different perspective?

The answer that showed up was, that all endings are also new beginnings. Or they can be if I allow and encourage them to be.

I wondered what I would have to do to make this real. Perhaps it was as simple as telling myself it would serve me best to make the shift.

So, I sat and consciously, intentionally, reviewed each ‘ending’ and reframed them as new beginnings. I recognized that I could get lost in the sorrow of each of my endings, but I could also shift my perspective and view them as new beginnings and the start of new adventures.

I decided to give my golf clubs to my grandson, Evan, so that they can be his and that he can have a bit of my legacy. I decided that although I wouldn’t be camping outside in the same way as before, I could go anywhere and do anything I wanted. There are thousands of VRBOs and Air B&Bs available to me. I decided that even though I have lost some friends, I am capable and desirous of making new friends and sharing new adventures with them. And I’ve committed to believing that there will be good bone growth, so that a new tooth (crown) can be placed where there is currently a gap, restoring my dental health.

What I discovered, while allowing myself to feel the full weight of the sorrow of some endings, was that I have other choices too. I can release the sadness and embrace the enchantment of new beginnings, making my world a better place for myself.

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Different Skin Daily

The other day I was struck by a thought. I let the thought pull me toward itself without resistance, despite not clearly knowing its full impact.

I waited a moment for better clarity and there it was in the form of a question.

What if tomorrow I woke up with different skin?

It might be a different color or a different texture. It might be old wrinkly skin, or the smooth pinkish skin of a new baby. It might be that of a burn victim, or a leper or a model’s perfect air brushed skin.

It could be I open my eyes and see myself as black or white or brown or red or yellow or some shade in between. What if it was possible to wake up with green or blue or purple skin?

The idea twisted a bit, and the question became, what if I woke up every day with different skin? Would that change my outlook on life?

Would I become more tolerant and open-minded, or would it move me in another direction, one where I played favorites, treating one skin color better than another?

I wondered whether changing my skin every day would be enough time to form any lasting opinions or would I need more time, like a week or a month or maybe a year.

I also wondered whether I would like some skins and dislike others. If I constantly changed, would that provide me with a broader sense of feelings that would create genuine compassion.

If I changed skins daily, would I have any control over the next one to arrive? Would there be ones I would try to avoid?

These questions generated a great deal of contemplation.

Why did this question appear inside of me? Is there a message attached that I need to listen to? If there is, what does the message mean to me?

I asked myself, how many skin types are there? Would this constant changing go on for as long as I lived? If so, could I stand it, adjust to it, learn from it?

In this present moment it feels quite daunting to consider, so I sat back, closed my eyes, and slowed my breathing, hoping to gain some valuable perspective.

An impression appeared.

I sensed that whatever skin covered my body was not the issue. The issue was how I felt about it and what thoughts passed through my mind. Because I’ve already lived a long life, I have absorbed biases through my cultural training. Assuredly, many of these biases are not real and not based on facts. And yet, they exist inside of me.

Based on the idea of ever-changing skin, my focus sharpened, and it set me back on my heels. I immediately realized how easy it was for me to judge each skin and to choose an attitude to go along with each one.

I needed to take a step back…a big step back.

Some part of me searched for a sense of fairness and compassion. I sensed a desire to love each and every skin I wear. I began to look beneath the skin, to where every one of us is the same. A divine being, living an earth life, creating, and experiencing what it means to be human.

This skin experiment has offered me an opportunity to see to a greater depth and deepen my love for all beings, regardless of how they appear.