For some there comes a time when a second chance is given.That time then becomes a celebration of the unrecognized gifts of the past and humble gratitude for the wonder of present.
This then is a collection of reflections and comments on life,work,love and faith to be sung ,and danced to, in thanksgiving for a second chance.
On
that one birthday morning waking as if it were for the first time the pilgrim wondered
if was a dream or a dream of a dream or something much more mysterious.
Eyes
wide opened it seemed as if that which appeared was being seen for the first
time. As a matter of fact all of his senses experienced the same “this is the
first time” phenomena. The initial anxiety over the newness of everything
quickly evaporated and was transformed without forethought into wonder. Genuine awe was the new sense that was all consuming. New sounds, sights, touches and all smells.
Fragrances were sweet and some seemed like unusual odors.
Slightly
flailing the limbs moved this way and that almost uncontrollably. The head
limited also in movement moved left and right but it was almost impossible to
lift. Immersed in a sea of wonder that which surrounded and filled everything was unfamiliar and was more invigorating than threatening.The ambiguity fueled the fire of delighted inquisitiveness.
It
seemed that this was some form of commencement; an origination or a launching with
the only thought of what went before was beautiful in its genesis. Being present
to this continued magnificence in all aspects of what was being experienced
fueled the spirit. Love, peace, joy, beauty and that inexplicable wonder were the sole essential
elements filling each moment marked by beats of the heart and each breath.
No
plans. No desires. No worries. Only a desire to reflect and share that
unconditional love that sustains life was all that mattered.
Suddenly
with the blink of an eye the pilgrim realized he had found himself while being lost
in an eternal moment as he held his new baby granddaughter in his arms and he
too was reborn by her love.
Caruso
( Te voglio bene assai)- A. Bocelli - ( Smart Phones click on link)
So
with just weeks away from another birthday I have had a number of reflections
and ideas about a blog post bouncing round and round in my head. I have drafted
at least four separate posts but I thought I would highlight just some random
sections from these drafts as the post today.
* Less
than a week has gone by since my 20 something daughter and fiancé’ gathered to
celebrate the music of the not-ready-to-retire original members of Fleetwood
Mac. There in the oceanside city that refuses to die, where lost sheep seek
dreams and gamble their fortunes is where we found ourselves. It was observed
that “The Mac still got it and time ain’t got nothing on these players!” The
congregation of pensioners and newbies danced and sang the night away.
“Everything
that dies some day comes back. Meet me tonight in Atlantic City.”
* So
there is a friend who is telling me that he is getting concerned about his age
as he moves forward in his second career, which in all truth should have been
his first. But that’s for another post. This friend and I know of a peer of
ours who has posted his age as being ten years younger than he really is. Hmmm?
A recent 6-week bout with sciatica as a result of two bulging discs reminded me
that I couldn’t do the same things the same way I did years ago. (Hey now…I am
talking about golf!) While in pain I couldn’t read, write or even play music. I
did worry for a while but the worrying didn’t change anything. Physical therapy
and prayer helped!
* There
are some Buddhist monks who spend days carefully creating intricate works of
art called “Mandelas” with millions of colored grains of sand only to brush
away the work of art when their work is done. They believe that the “art”, the
sacred experience is in the doing…in the “creating”, in the being “present.”
Being present is to be lost in the moment of the task at hand and all that
fills the spirit. “Yesterday is history, tomorrow mystery and the present is a
gift.” All is impermanence some say. There is no need the boast about what was
finally completed. It is being present to the moment that matters. I like to get
lost in the doing and the flow...
* The
pilgrim was asked to create a profile that featured his experiences, achievements
and credentials. He wrote down that he is most proud of his two daughters. The
newly designed automatic electronic digital form that was to collect his input
wouldn’t accept that response. So he tried again. This time he wrote about his family,
friends, playing music, running marathons, meditations and walking on the beach
at Cape May watching the sunrise. Again, big red letters appeared “ERROR: NOT VALID ENTRY!” and wouldn’t accept his
input. There were designated spaces about educational degrees earned, work
titles and employers and memberships to organizations. “That’s not who I really
am”, he thought.
* A dear friend sent me this quote in
response to some correspondence about my letting the winds and waves carrying
me to where I need to be…. Coincidence or a greater plan, who knows?
“Perhaps the best river runners are
Taoists at heart. Taoism considers someone wise if they accommodate themselves
to the rhythms of the universe.”
* Becoming a first time grandfather
recently has changed everything. All of a sudden the sacred has exploded like
some beautiful fragrant flower in the middle of the winter of my life and even
I feel reborn.
* I
read the quote below years ago and only recently did I begin to grasp it’s
meaning. I am not sure if I am correct but it doesn’t matter in the end does
it?
“Before
enlightenment; chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment; chop wood, carry
water.” ~Zen proverb
Don’t Stop – Fleetwood Mac ( Smart Phones click on link)
Welcome
to the universe. I wish you could tell us what is it that makes you smile .
Your lips gently move puckering up and down and in and out as if to tell me
about the secret of your origin and the first moments or your development in
your mother’s womb. It seems obvious what new sights and sounds delight your
innocent spirit.
Is
it really hunger or is it just the unusual smelly mess in your diaper that
causes you to cry out? Is it feeling your mother’s heart beat again next to
your body and the firm and gentle protective loving caress of your father that
brings you comfort of unconditional love?
Somehow
I think you sense that it was love that caused the spark bringing you life and
that it is love that brought you into this world . I wonder if you know
that you are a gift of the divine and that your life is proof of the sacred as
it is sacrament. I think your “GG” is convinced you are a special angel.
What
is it that I can tell you? Here are a few things I tried to teach your mother
and your zia. I am not sure how successful I was but I hope they know I tried.
Though
there will be days of fair weather of warmth and sunshine there may be nights
when some storms will seem endless. You are never alone and you are loved more
than you will know. Listen to the wisdom of your mom and dad. Be present and live
each moment in gratitude as it is a gift. Be mindful of the wonders of the universe
.Be authentic and never be afraid of being precisely who you are meant to be.
Mistakes happen as they are proof of our humanity. What really matters is how
you live and not what you do to “make” a living. In order to respect and love
others completely you need to respect and love yourself. Tell the truth and
live in truth. Success is living with integrity , compassion, hopefulness and mercy. Accumulating things might delight you but they don’t really
bring you peace or happiness. Don’t forget that there are those in this world
who need your help, your love and your prayers. Never take one moment or one
thing or person for granted. Cherish all of nature…the sky, clouds, the sun,
rain, snow , trees, flowers, river, lakes, all creatures, oceans , sunrises and
sunsets as they too are of God . If your faith is ever challenged just remember
the love you have felt and been given as that love is God. What we call heaven is
ever present as it is in your heart. Prayer works.
If
you are to be serious about anything be serious about being yourself and living
life with passion and joy. Music is a unique gift and let it bring joy , share
the joy, let it console you when you are sad don’t ever be afraid to let go and
dance! If you play a musical instrument just let the music flow . Sing always,
it is freeing! Play with abandon and if you play a sport play with all the joy
of your spirit.
Read
as much as you can. There are so many good books with so much wisdom and fun
and there is so little time. Write whenever and whatever you can and remember
that writing is knowing . Art and the creative spirit in all the arts is the
sacred being exposed to the world .
Trust your intuition.
Be
amazed by life and know that you will amaze others.
I
believe in the value of tradition and as my friend Bernie would say “Not to post this blog
post again from December 2009 would be a ‘violation!’ ”
The following
is an excerpt that first appeared in the Second Chance Dance Blog Post from
December 2009.
“We do not exist for ourselves alone, and it is only when we
are fully convinced of this fact that we begin to love ourselves properly and
thus also love others. What do I mean by loving ourselves properly? I mean,
first of all, desiring to live, accepting life as a very great gift and great good,
not because of what it gives us, but because of what it enables us to give to
others.”
-Thomas
Merton
One of my favorite comic strips is “Peanuts.” It is a
vehicle that helps me laugh and be reflective at the same time. In one particular strip that appeared around this time of
year Charlie Brown asked Lucy why she was so happy. Lucy explained how it was
"Christmas" and she explained further that this was the time of year
to "spread joy, caring, compassion, giving and love." Charlie Brown
wondered to Lucy, "Why do we just do these things at Christmastime and why
can't we do those things all year round?" Lucy yelled at Charlie Brown
"What are you some type of religious fanatic?!"
Every Christmas Eve both of my girls reminded me to put out
milk and cookies for Santa. When they were old enough they dictated a note I
had to leave for Santa to accompany the cookies and milk. They chose each word
carefully and made sure that their message was clear and complete.
“Dear Santa
Here are some milk and cookies for your journey. Thank you
for stopping by and leaving us gifts but please do not forget all the poor
children who need food and clothing this Christmas and all year round.
Love you…
Lindsay and Leigh"
( I was and
remain moved by their continued “fanaticism” and pray in hopefulness for them all ways…)
Whats So Funny about Peace and Understanding( Smart phones click on link)
As I walk through
This wicked world
Searchin for light in the darkness of insanity.
I ask myself
Is all hope lost?
Is there only pain and hatred, and misery?
And each time I feel like this inside,
There's one thing I wanna know:
What's so funny bout peace love & understanding? ohhhh
What's so funny bout peace love & understanding?
And as I walked on
Through troubled times
My spirit gets so downhearted sometimes
So where are the strong
And who are the trusted?
And where is the harmony?
Sweet harmony.
Cause each time I feel it slippin away, just makes me wanna cry.
What's so funny bout peace love & understanding? ohhhh
What's so funny bout peace love & understanding?
So where are the strong?
And who are the trusted?
And where is the harmony?
Sweet harmony.
Cause each time I feel it slippin away, just makes me wanna cry.
What's so funny bout peace love & understanding? ohhhh
What's so funny bout peace love & understanding? ohhhh
What's so funny bout peace love & understanding?
The two pilgrims who have
been trying to make their escape to a place called Paradise. Suddenly the two
do not recognize anything on their passage. Most things and people they
encounter are unfamiliar. Pilgrim One starts to show signs of anxiety while
Pilgrim Two starts to flip through a book he has in is knapsack.
Pilgrim One: What the heck are you
doing? How can you begin to think about reading when we are at the precipice of
self-demise? Can’t you take anything seriously?
Pilgrim Two: I am quite serious and this
is just not any book.
Pilgrim One: Oh, I expect that this book
is the one and only “ Good Book?”
Pilgrim Two: Well, it is a good book in
a way. It is one of the journals I have been keeping. As a matter of fact this
particular journal is one in a long line of meditation and reflection filled
pages.
Pilgrim One: So, do you have a map in
there or some great insight that will put us on the right path again?
Pilgrim Two: Well, yes and no. Years ago
I met a wise man from the Big East who gave me some advice.
Pilgrim One: Don’t tell me you took that
“Course on Miracles” and these are your notes! Don’t you realize that …
Pilgrim Two puts up his hand
to signal, “stop” as he interrupts the wound up Pilgrim One’s queries and
confrontation….
Pilgrim Two: Hold on a minute will ya!
No, this is not that text on “The Course in Miracles: To Find Peace and
Happiness” but in a way it is an elementary method of discerning one’s
blessings and being mindful of the sacred in all things. This wise man I spent
some time with used to quote Einstein for me , “ There are two ways to live
your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though
everything is a miracle.” So, years ago I started to try o be aware of all the
miracles and blessings in my life. Then I started to write about these
observations and meditations in a journal.
Pilgrim One: What are you talking about?
How does this help anything? How does this help us now?
Pilgrim Two: If you let me finish I will
tell you. Every morning I sit in wonder and am overwhelmed with humility that
the great grace is filling all things in the universe. This wonder-filled
canvas of pure peace and love surrounds us and it fills up my spirit.
Pilgrim One: A little simplistic isn’t
it? You are not going to lecture me about God, heaven and all that again.
Pilgrim Two: I really don’t care what
you label that energy of great love that has caused all existence through
magnificent peace and love. By the way, for the record, I don’t believe in your
concept that heaven is really the same as some theme park at Disney world or
grand resort on the Riviera located above the stars. All one needs to do is
look, see and feel. No thinking is required, you know.
Pilgrim One flailing his
arms screams out
Pilgrim One: Where are you going with
this? How is this going to help us get to where we need to go? I don’t
understand.
Pilgrim Two: In the pages of this
journal I have tried to write what I am sensing or experienced when I attempt
to be present. Sometimes I feel as though great secrets of the universe are
revealed. Sometimes I experience a consolation so great that I believe I am a
part of the expansive canvas of pure peace. Sometimes the tranquility comes from
the stars. Sometimes I can hear to sweet serenity in the songs of the pre-dawn
birds welcoming the sun. Sometimes the waft of salt air form the sea along with
the lapping waves on the beach are all part of the harmonious symphony of
serenity.
Then
sometimes I drift and contemplate to wonder of existence : Love, intimacy,
compassion and mercy. The miracle of conception and birth comes to mind. Where
does that spark come from that initiates all life? How does that happen,
really?
I
think of how there are no accidents.Einstein was to have said that,
“
Coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous.” Whoever and whatever God is I
don’t think that this universal magnificence is passive at all.
Then
sometimes I drift again and write about true happiness. I reflect on how I have
never read a story or poem or heard a song or have seen a movie where the one who has the most possessions or biggest bank account has found authentic
happiness or peace.
Pilgrim One now with his
face in his hands whimpers
Pilgrim One: I don’t understand. I don’t
understand. How is this book and all this going to help us get to where we need
to go?
Pilgrim Two:You see I believe that the help, this gift is all about love.
Love is the origin of everything. Love is the reason for existence. Love is
that which fills the universe and every moment we love we are experiencing the
sacred. We become the divine when we love, as all that is love is divine.
So,
we really do not need to get anywhere. We really don’t need to own anything. If
I feel lost or feel alone and can’t connect with that which is truly important
I look into my journal’s writings and discover that I have witnessed true peace
and that miracle of love. And, in this witnessing I realize somehow
mysteriously with all my imperfections I am participating of this miracle.
Heaven is not a destination. Heaven is where love is. Heaven is here and now.
Pilgrim One: I guess I know what you
mean. In the movie “Field of Dreams” the main character meets the spirit of his
father who asks
‘Is
this heaven?’ and the main character responds that it is Iowa and asks his
father’s spirit if there is a heaven and the father says ‘ Oh, yeh, it is the
place dreams come true” and the main character looks at his wife and daughter
on the porch of their farm house next to a ball field in the middle of his
cornfield and smiles saying “Maybe this is heaven.”
The two find a half finished
bottle of Merlot and a baguette in their sole knapsack and the companions begin
to celebrate.
"Yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, today is God's gift, that's why we call it the present."
(Final Scene Field of Dreams- smart phone click link)
Then
there was the time the pilgrim was trying to reach out to old friends and
anyone who might want to listen. There were stories about the illumination of
how perfection is not attainable and parables about how busyness does not mean
happiness ready to explode from within. He had rolled the dice and found
himself singing to himself and writing reflections, lyrics to songs and poems
only he would hear or read. It seems simpatico spirits had either made an early
departure or were preoccupied with
their own searching sojourns.
He
sat soothed by the sea softly swaying as soaring gulls swept just above the
waves with the sun soaking every satisfied soul that savored the sacred serenity
of the hymns of the silence. The clouds blew away. Another season about to
change once again. The oft dreamed about distance grew nearer. Safe harbors
departed. Concern about that which
lies beyond the horizon evaporates. Regrets and receipts of fares paid of
yesterday are logged, stored and shelved. The voice of quiet one echoed
“ its
a game, sometimes your cool, sometimes your lame.”
Then
he remembered how in the great book even the Sons of Thunder were chastised for
wanting the beat the crap out of those who closed their hearts and minds. Gratefully
smiling he returned to that which was burning within singing “That’s the way
goes”
“For what shall it profit a
man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul?”
Mark 8:36-37
There
they were unpacking remnants of memories; posters, paintings, cd’s, vinyl
records, books and more books and loads of glass and cup coasters. There were
so many coasters from so many places and so many events and so many
remembrances. Some were square,some round, some stone, some wood and even a few leather ones.There
were probably as many coasters as there were glasses, mugs and cups to be
unpacked!
Another
dilemma, ”which coasters to save and which one’s to discard?” There is limited
space in the new safe harbor home. ”Too many coasters”, she proclaimed. “ It is
time to sort through this abundance of stuff”, she added. Self-righteously he
retorted,“ You can’t just get rid of memories. These are treasures. ”
Stalemate.
The
two concurred to retreat to the beach as a getaway and for some sort of sacred
discernment about sorting and unloading . The sand, surf and sun sometimes
provide relief if not answers. Usually there is just a lot of sun and sand and
nothing more on these retreats. But, at this point in their move to the next
chapter they believed, “what have we got to lose?!”
Mysteriously
without warning or anticipation a friendly storm worn face appeared near the shores
of salvation . It was friend from another lifetime when he and his companion
had first set out on their odyssey together. Just seeing this face of a woman and hearing her voice fueled the furious flames of memories . Hugs and kisses
were followed by her sober stories woven with tragedy and redemption. That
sandy storm of the century had completely demolished everything that this
friend and her family possessed on their piece of paradise on their island in
the stream. A distant voice confirmed to the pilgrim that if there was to be a
survivor it would be this good friend. Her things were washed forever but not
her love, her faith or her memories.
This
meandering pilgrim was one known for never lacking in words and yet he was
speechless. He wanted to say how sorry he was for his old friend’s troubles. He
wanted to say something about how if there was anything she needed that he
would do what he could for her and her family. But, by her demeanor andsoul-filled inner strength he knew that
she needed nothing of what he could provide save asilent prayer. He wanted to tell her how grateful he was
that she and her family was safe and well andhow he was grateful to see her again.
But
there was only a sweet simple silence.
A
brief exchange of semi-genuine promises to stay connected concluded the
encounter and just as mysteriously the old friend was gone from sight. He
wondered “Was she real? What just happened?” as he and his companion retired
from the sands of time to their new chapter home.
The
sun went down and rose again as it does consistently. The new day brought a
summoned local plumber to repair this and that at the new place as the two
continued their bickering about what needed disposal and what really needed to
remain. As the plumber wrenched the problem away he echoed a journey similar to
the one the two had heard the day before. It wasn’t déjà vu but it was a close
second. The man recalled how his home had been washed away by that great storm
that had devastated the home of the couple’s friend. No photo albums, no family
heirlooms, no furniture or rooms where his wife, children and even
grandchildren had lived and celebrated a multiple of fond occasions had
survived the great storm.
“All
I had left was my truck and my job” the plumber said with a prideful bitterness
“but it didn’t destroy my memories or my hopes and dreams. It will cost
everything I have and more to start over again. But it’s only money and it is
only things, right? ” He continued and shared how a 1,000 homes on the mystic
island had been lost.A1,000 homes of 1,000 families with a
million memories. “I am one of the lucky ones.”Witha
heartfelt wish to the two for “good luck and good health” this fixer’s spirit
disappeared offsomewhere into the
unknown horizon.
The
pilgrim’s contemplation “Was this fixer and old friend angels or coincidences?”
Sitting
somberly the eyes welled up as the pilgrim reflected on his concern for things
and attachments. The debate about salvaging coasters and memories seemed supercilious
as he humbly grabbed for an empty box.
“Coincidence is God's way of
remaining anonymous.”
