The Magic of Healing

Here in this amazing universe we all share there appears to be a broken ankle, and it is mine.

Sometimes there is pain present, and sometimes not. What is stunning to watch is how the human body mysteriously sends interior soldiers to heal itself; I can see their footsteps by way of a rainbow of vivid colors (blue, purple, ocher, yellow and plum.) They are painted across the skin around the fracture.

I am told there will be a period of weeks before the fracture has knitted itself together again. My assignment is to apply patience and commission myself to watch the sweet flower of order emerge bit by bit out of temporary chaos. I love watching order restore itself; it carries the scent of authority.

Another thing: I notice that people –both friends and strangers- are behaving with exceptional kindness towards me during this ankle adventure. God’s great Heart pops up everywhere.

Once again, I am carried by grace. Funny, isn’t it? Whatever the circumstance, whatever the event, whatever the experience: He is with me always. And you.

Are You Listening?

Fear talks hard
in a loud rushing voice,
sometimes a roar.

Peace only whispers,
but when you lean in to hear it,
fear grows suddenly
wordless.

Small Victories

It's the little knots we trip over; big ones are so large we stay aware of them and watch our step. But the small, iggly kind catch us unawares and we find ourselves thrown before we know what happened.

You're in a store shopping for new towels. It's a simple adventure; you look at the colors, the thicknesses, the prices and make a decision. No problem.You gather up your choice and head for the checkout line. which for some reason is abnormally long.

The woman manning the cash register is taking an incessant amount of time to total things up; she's new, perhaps. Or distracted. Whatever it is, she's moving like a sailboat on a windless lake. The people in front and behind you are beginning to get rattled; they are whispering to each other about the slowness. You are commenting, too, silently, to yourself. It's hard to believe it could take so much time to check out a few items, but it is, and you don't like it. You look at your watch, you shift the towels irritably in your arms; you worry about making it home in time to finish cleaning the kitchen.

More long moments pass, and the line is still moving in slow motion; now you are beginning to feel actual heat rising behind your eyes. Your mouth is tense; your teeth are clenched in a gritty protest at the unseemly waiting period. The conversational hum is getting nastier; patience is evaporating like dew under August heat.

Then you catch a quick glimpse of the cashier; you notice she is pale with uneasiness. Faint droplets of sweat glisten from her cheek; she knows she is performing below standards and is frightened. The more she becomes frightened, the more she fumbles. She looks up furtively at the customers, now hostile, and you can almost hear her heart beating fast.

With this one glimpse, you soften completely. She's afraid! you say to yourself, and your instinct now is to put her at ease. Although you're three people back in line, you call out some cheerful remark to her, something funny. She looks up gratefully, smiles, and returns to her labors.

And when it's your turn, you smile and say, "Must be crazy today, all these people." and she nods. You tell her you like her blouse. She smiles, bites her lip. She totals you up, you give her the money, and thank her for helping you. "You have a nice day," she says, and she is smiling.

Inside this rare moment the two of you are suddenly friends, and as you leave you notice the previous anger has disappeared as surely as the moon vanishes at dawn.

Choosing Awareness

Here it is dawn,
My eyes have just opened,
and the sun is watching me
with untroubled love, waiting.

What will I paint on this day?
It is a fresh canvas spread before
my brand new eyes.
Only the sun and the silence
are watching, waiting.

I have so many colors I can use:
vials of pale blue peace,
the almost pearl whiteness of love,
pure energy, green as grass.
Rust memories, opal tinted dreams,
Hard skills, all orange and cobalt.

But that’s not all.
I also have storm gray doubt,
Acid lemon judgment, bitter olive envy,
And blood red anger.

They are all here, unopened tubes,
Lined up in front of my hours.

What will I paint on this day?