Helping You Be the Change
1.
My cat is named, Sweet Pea.
Inappropriately.
2.
She was outside for the first time in a while recently
(we’re trying to spare the song birds)
But once in a while
Under careful supervision
We let her out to feel the sunshine unpaned by glass,
Free to tap her inner lion by nibbling on green grass.
3.
Suddenly, a strong breeze kicked up,
but she had forgotten what it was like to feel the wind.
Can you imagine?Continue Reading
It’s a typical afternoon at Al Aqsa Academy in South Kensington, Philadelphia. Back from recess, 30 third-graders burst into the classroom, carrying stories, alliances, and scuffles that began in the playground. Calmly, their teacher reminds them that it’s time for poetry, and we begin. I tape up a poster of N. Scott Momaday’s The Delight Song of Tsoai-Talee, which uses metaphor to capture the poet’s self-awareness and relationship to the world outside himself.
I am a feather on the bright sky
I am the blue horse that runs in the plain. . .
Its powerful repetitions are very pleasing. Students tap their feet to the rhythm of each line. Thinking of Walt Whitman, as well as my own Hebrew Sabbath prayers, I wonder if the children are reminded of Islamic prayers. Walking around the classroom, I glance at first drafts as students compose. Two wonderful poems stand out, written Zubair and Zayd. These thoughtful twins have written poetry for three years, since I begin lessons in first grade at this large Islamic day school. When asked about the title of his poem, Zubair says that this is the poem of his life. His brother, Zayd, is quite concerned with the environment and what he can do to care for it.Continue Reading
What brings your soul to life? How are you taking time to heal and be whole?
For me, what is essential is spending time outside in the early morning hours. Being awake at first light gives me sustenance and kindles my hope and joy. Those early morning hours are when I can best hear the Spotted Towhee scratching in the dry leaves and grasses beneath the Sumac as it repeats its buzzy trill che zheee, che zhee. They’re when I can most clearly listen to the Pacific Tree Frogs announcing the imminent arrival of rain. In the dawn hours, I can watch the stars fade and the firmament of sky move from violet-blue to pale silk blue
“Take the breath of the new dawn
and make it part of you.
It will give you strength.”
This Hopi prayer fills me with gratitude. I continue to learn what it is to live in the “new dawn,” to “take the breath” and allow the prana, the life force of the morning to flow through me. And in those moments, I remember that the universe is synchronistic, and that I am a part of the whole. In those moments, I am healing.Continue Reading
Two years ago, a colleague suggested I check out a Washington-based conference called Families In Global Transition. I was intrigued. I had grown up in Germany and Austria, in a family with three nationalities and four last names, before I moved to the United States to study. As an adult in America, I learned to blend into society quite well, but I hesitated and stumbled over my answer each time someone asked “Where are you from?”
I had an inkling that attendees at Families In Global Transition (FIGT) might know what it’s like to feel at home everywhere and nowhere at once. As I searched through their website my hunger to meet a whole conference full of globally minded people became strong. And since I was an executive coach wanting to bring his leadership development skills to the intercultural field, I quickly decided not only to attend FIGT, but to also present a session.Continue Reading
Now in my 75th year, I finally got myself into spiritual direction. Or just as likely, it’s gotten itself into me. Even that modest move required overcoming of a long-standing preference to manage my spiritual journey without needing outside assistance. Then one of the first problems to arise was the recurrence of a long-standing difficulty with meditation, namely that I couldn’t sustain the silent centering and breathing for more than 2 or 3 minutes before the brain teased and pestered me back into thoughts and schedules. After a week or two of this roadblock, I began to recall that when I’ve shared a silence with others—on retreat or in a small group—I could comfortably deepen into the silence for longer stretches of time without giving in to the distractions. Not having such a group at hand, I hit on a practice that’s helping the meditation problem but bringing other benefits as well. I’ve been calling that practice my “Virtual Meditation Group.”Continue Reading
“You’re a pig. Don’t take that personally.” He tried to warn her that it wasn’t a physical likeness to which he was referring.
I have a friend that has the self-proclaimed gift of recognizing people’s “spiritual animal twins.” In relatively short time, he can sense someone’s nature and pair it with an animal. It’s rather remarkable. He calls someone a Meer cat and you think to yourself, “She’s totally a Meer cat.” He says to someone else, “You’re an alligator,” and now you understand why he always has his soul out sunning itself on the sawgrass.
According to my friend, I’m a land turtle. It’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me. And, yes, people have said nice things before. “You’re steady.” I’ll take it. I pick up my shell and move on…slowly.Continue Reading
Sometimes when the Givers of Dreams want to make sure I get it, they don’t create story lines or images; nothing radiant, troubling or obscure to be left to my interpretation. They give me a word, a phrase or a sentence. Straight up. Several weeks ago it was this: Let the Practice Carry You. I heard it, and I also saw it in capital letters, for emphasis. As I emerged into waking, an image arrived: ‘Practice’ was a boat on a river, something to carry me down stream. I needed only to get on board. If I wandered off onto shore, I needed only to retrieve the boat from the bank and get back on the river.
Hours later, I was getting in my car with a cup of coffee from the local convenient store. Turning the radio on, I heard another sentence, “Don’t Try to Be Great,” (also in capital letters, for emphasis, I was sure.) A man was talking about wisdom that graduation speakers bestow upon their college graduates. It all came in a moment. Don’t Try to Be Great and Let the Practice Carry You both gathered in a second that stretched out far and wide, one of those moments of infinite stillness where linear time becomes fiction.Continue Reading
When Patricia asked me if I’d be willing to write a guest blog, I was honored and also a bit daunted. I didn’t quite know where to start, or how to follow her beautifully laid path. She suggested that I might write about my work as spiritual practice, and possibly share an excerpt from my newly written book Find the Medicine: How Theater of Witness Reveals Stories of Suffering, Transformation and Peace. So I offer the Prelude of the book and some subsequent thoughts:
I am crouching in the wings of the theater watching the performance of Children of Cambodia/Children of War. From the side angle I see Hong Peach’s graceful silhouette balance as she perches on her right leg and her hands glide through the air in slow motion. Her fingers touch and trace invisible lines in the soft blue light. Her beauty is pure and lingers like perfume. Then with a boisterous shout, the Cambodian teen boys bound through the space, cajoling each other as they flip and jump over higher and higher ropes before collapsing into a pile of limbs on the floor, laughing before one turns serious:Continue Reading