What I see now
that I couldn’t see then,
was that people’s cruelties
flow out from their scars.
Just like mine do.
And yours do.
It stays that way
until Awareness,
that great merciful mindquake,
taps us wide open.
And then,
instead of seeing
from certainties,
we start seeing
from heart.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Pavement Poetry
Walking along to the Post Office the other day, I began noticing the pavement. There it is: ordinary, foot-friendly, home to a fallen leaf, chewing gum, dogshit, grime. An endless weave of gray canvas. I began to ask myself the question Pema Chodrun recommends: 'What IS this?' That simple inquiry is just Pema's way of encouraging us to see without judging. 'What IS this?' After several minutes, voila! I began to see the pavement as a work of art. I thought: 'I could slice out two feet of this, frame it, and put it in a museum." I wasn't kidding. Even now, I can see it hanging with aplomb on a long slow white gallery wall. Artist: God. Cost: priceless.
My inquiry continued. When I got to the Post Office, I found myself in line behind a blind woman with her ultra-kind seeing eye dog. 'What IS this?' The woman's turn came, and I helped direct her to the clerk. It turned out she wanted to fill out a Change-of-Address card. The clerk leaned out to me and said: "Will you help her?" I said, "Sure." We walked to the side table, and the woman gave me her name and address while I filled in the form. Then I directed her back to the clerk, who thanked me. The woman thanked me. Yes, and the second clerk next to the first one thanked me. Thankmania! Well appreciated, I got my stamps and left. On the walk back, I kept on asking:'What IS this?' A stranger passed by me, turned around, smiled, and said "Hi!". I smiled back. Shortly afterwards another stranger came towards me, smiled, and said "Hi". I responded. Then a third stranger, turning a corner, looked at me and waved. I waved back. 'What IS this?'
I don't remember having strangers on a street greet me before this. All I know is that if ever there was evidence that human angels exist under our facades and are able to hear the footsteps of a judgment-free walk to the Post Office, this was that evidence.
'What IS this?' I have no idea. But I do get one thing: that under the apparent multitude of divisions before us, everything is connected. Always.
My inquiry continued. When I got to the Post Office, I found myself in line behind a blind woman with her ultra-kind seeing eye dog. 'What IS this?' The woman's turn came, and I helped direct her to the clerk. It turned out she wanted to fill out a Change-of-Address card. The clerk leaned out to me and said: "Will you help her?" I said, "Sure." We walked to the side table, and the woman gave me her name and address while I filled in the form. Then I directed her back to the clerk, who thanked me. The woman thanked me. Yes, and the second clerk next to the first one thanked me. Thankmania! Well appreciated, I got my stamps and left. On the walk back, I kept on asking:'What IS this?' A stranger passed by me, turned around, smiled, and said "Hi!". I smiled back. Shortly afterwards another stranger came towards me, smiled, and said "Hi". I responded. Then a third stranger, turning a corner, looked at me and waved. I waved back. 'What IS this?'
I don't remember having strangers on a street greet me before this. All I know is that if ever there was evidence that human angels exist under our facades and are able to hear the footsteps of a judgment-free walk to the Post Office, this was that evidence.
'What IS this?' I have no idea. But I do get one thing: that under the apparent multitude of divisions before us, everything is connected. Always.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Bent Trees
I was enjoying a cup of coffee on Starbuck’s patio when I noticed something unusual about one of the trees in front of me. It was oddly bent. Its leaves were sprightly and green, but its trunk tilted at an awkward angle over the street. Amazingly, because of that steep tilt, it was able to cast massive shade on the cars parked beneath it.
I don’t know how the tree felt about being tilted - or whether it even cared. But I'm certain the cars parked below it must have been grateful for the umbrella of cool green shade protecting them from a blazing sun.
Sometimes we too grow up awkward or tilted. When we look around our universe and notice the unblemished stance of others, we can feel envy. Or, we can notice the healing shade our past wounds now provide; and the comfort we often bring to those who also feel tilted or scarred in some way.
Unbent. Bent. Who can say which is more valuable?
I don’t know how the tree felt about being tilted - or whether it even cared. But I'm certain the cars parked below it must have been grateful for the umbrella of cool green shade protecting them from a blazing sun.
Sometimes we too grow up awkward or tilted. When we look around our universe and notice the unblemished stance of others, we can feel envy. Or, we can notice the healing shade our past wounds now provide; and the comfort we often bring to those who also feel tilted or scarred in some way.
Unbent. Bent. Who can say which is more valuable?
Friday, September 4, 2009
Future Tales
Case #785
A man, deeply in love with power, had enjoyed a hectic and busy life making commands, building empires and fending off detractors. Not surprisingly, he was rewarded with many plaques and titles and bank accounts.
However, when his power began to wane, he became very depressed and fell ill. A friend stopped by to see him and asked, “Is earthly power the only happiness?” The man sighed and said, “Yes, I believe so.”
Arriving in Heaven, he quite naturally expected his high status to be admired. Ah, the tragedy of expectations! When he became aware that God ruled All, he was stunned. “This isn’t right,” he thought. Being an avowed activist, he decided: “I know what! I’ll lodge a complaint.”
It was at that very moment he discovered he had no lips to complain with.
A man, deeply in love with power, had enjoyed a hectic and busy life making commands, building empires and fending off detractors. Not surprisingly, he was rewarded with many plaques and titles and bank accounts.
However, when his power began to wane, he became very depressed and fell ill. A friend stopped by to see him and asked, “Is earthly power the only happiness?” The man sighed and said, “Yes, I believe so.”
Arriving in Heaven, he quite naturally expected his high status to be admired. Ah, the tragedy of expectations! When he became aware that God ruled All, he was stunned. “This isn’t right,” he thought. Being an avowed activist, he decided: “I know what! I’ll lodge a complaint.”
It was at that very moment he discovered he had no lips to complain with.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Future Tales
Staff Reports from Heaven on Recent Arrivals:
Case 784
A really cute and important CEO entered last week, resume in hand. The Entrance Angels read through his material and all thought it quite impressive. So, after the usual plush meal of WhateverYouWant, the illustrious CEO was assigned to the task of getting up each morning at 6 AM and persuading all the birds to start singing.
“Hmm...pretty important job,” thought the CEO.
A few days later he reported back to the Assignment Desk, quite annoyed. “Are you guys pulling my leg?” he complained. “These damn birds don’t need me to persuade them to sing – they’re babbling and warbling on their own even before I get out there.”
“Oops,” murmured the Assignment Angel. “My bad – it was a typo. Forgive me. Your task is quite different.”
“Ok, well – what?” barked the CEO.
“Your task is to get up every morning at 6 AM and listen to the birds sing.”
Case 784
A really cute and important CEO entered last week, resume in hand. The Entrance Angels read through his material and all thought it quite impressive. So, after the usual plush meal of WhateverYouWant, the illustrious CEO was assigned to the task of getting up each morning at 6 AM and persuading all the birds to start singing.
“Hmm...pretty important job,” thought the CEO.
A few days later he reported back to the Assignment Desk, quite annoyed. “Are you guys pulling my leg?” he complained. “These damn birds don’t need me to persuade them to sing – they’re babbling and warbling on their own even before I get out there.”
“Oops,” murmured the Assignment Angel. “My bad – it was a typo. Forgive me. Your task is quite different.”
“Ok, well – what?” barked the CEO.
“Your task is to get up every morning at 6 AM and listen to the birds sing.”
Friday, August 21, 2009
Future Tales
Practically everyone knows that Heaven is a formless and timeless life space. But few suspect –as I do- that after we shed our bodysuits, there is a Rehab Center through which we all pass prior to our total immersion in the One.
I think of it as a kind of pre-Heaven workshop, where we get prescribed a variety of Mental Rinse treatments. This is to ensure there aren’t any leftover hiccups within us to spoil the silkitude of Oneness.
These Future Tales, then, are my imaginings of what happens to our Souls when they arrive, baggage in hand, at the entryway to Heaven. Well, they are either my imaginings or some rebel angel leaked them to me when the Boss wasn’t around. Either way, here they are.
Reports from Staff Angels on Recent Arrivals:
Case 982
A woman arrived who had spent her life despising fat people. Naturally, she was immediately assigned to a crew of fat angels. In Heaven, angels come in all sizes, and five radiant plumpettes were assembled and sent to her room. When the fat angels entered, the woman stared at them, drawing back as though stung by a wasp.
“I thought everyone in Heaven was beautiful!” she said, aghast.
“Oh yes,” the head fat angel assured her, “everyone here IS beautiful. And here’s the good news,” she continued gently, stroking the woman’s cheek, “after two weeks in our Vision Therapy program, you’ll be beautiful, too.”
I think of it as a kind of pre-Heaven workshop, where we get prescribed a variety of Mental Rinse treatments. This is to ensure there aren’t any leftover hiccups within us to spoil the silkitude of Oneness.
These Future Tales, then, are my imaginings of what happens to our Souls when they arrive, baggage in hand, at the entryway to Heaven. Well, they are either my imaginings or some rebel angel leaked them to me when the Boss wasn’t around. Either way, here they are.
Reports from Staff Angels on Recent Arrivals:
Case 982
A woman arrived who had spent her life despising fat people. Naturally, she was immediately assigned to a crew of fat angels. In Heaven, angels come in all sizes, and five radiant plumpettes were assembled and sent to her room. When the fat angels entered, the woman stared at them, drawing back as though stung by a wasp.
“I thought everyone in Heaven was beautiful!” she said, aghast.
“Oh yes,” the head fat angel assured her, “everyone here IS beautiful. And here’s the good news,” she continued gently, stroking the woman’s cheek, “after two weeks in our Vision Therapy program, you’ll be beautiful, too.”
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
Future Tales
Case #782
Staff Reports from Heaven
Case 782
Last week we admitted a highly intelligent and creative thief, one who had never actually been captured. He confessed he was surprised that karma hadn’t caught up with him during his earthtime.
“Ah,” said the angels, “you do realize, don’t you, that everything you stole you stole from yourself?” The thief was silent. “Here,” continued the angels, “your task will be to secretly dispense gifts on those you stole from.”
“Agreed,” said the man. “But what is my punishment?”
The angels smiled. “Your punishment is discovering how joyful it feels to give, and to realize you spent your entire life living without joy.”
Staff Reports from Heaven
Case 782
Last week we admitted a highly intelligent and creative thief, one who had never actually been captured. He confessed he was surprised that karma hadn’t caught up with him during his earthtime.
“Ah,” said the angels, “you do realize, don’t you, that everything you stole you stole from yourself?” The thief was silent. “Here,” continued the angels, “your task will be to secretly dispense gifts on those you stole from.”
“Agreed,” said the man. “But what is my punishment?”
The angels smiled. “Your punishment is discovering how joyful it feels to give, and to realize you spent your entire life living without joy.”
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