Have you ever seen the high-speed Internet commericial that features a turtle who loves his slooooooow Internet connection? He clicks on his computer and as he waits for the connection he closes his eyes, takes a deep breath and smiles, “Ahhh, me time,” he says.

I think this commercial is hilarious. It makes me laugh every time I see it. The creator is a genius in my book as this person absolutely gets the frustration of a slow Internet connection. I usually click all of the computer buttons to get things rolling, then head off to make the bed or clean the bathroom while I ’wait’ for the connection. And I have satellite, for crying out loud.

I hate waiting for the Internet connection. Most of us hate it. We hate it because we want everything instantly. We’re used to getting the things we want delivered to us fast. We eat at fast food restaurants. We pay with credit cards because it’s the fastest way (and the quickest way to instant ‘money’). We pop pills for pain because it gets rid of our pain fast. We text and email our communications because it’s the fastest way to stay in touch with each other. No one actually drives the speed limit.

But is all of this hyper-speed good for us?

Probably not.

I’ve noticed that people’s patience levels are lower and their anger quicker to flare. Myself included. We don’t want to wait in line for ANYTHING. More of us finish each other’s sentences, or worse, we can’t even be bothered to listen. Our minds are always “on” and whirling about at about a million miles a second. We are not calm.

Is this a sane way to live? Is this good for our health, our relationships? 

We do need to slow down. We do need to take a break from our breakneck pace. We do need to take a ‘time out’ for some me time. We need to simply stop for a moment and learn how to relax, to appreciate, to enjoy doing nothing but waiting for the Internet to connect.

I did that today. As I waited for the Internet connection, I didn’t make the bed and I didn’t go anywhere. I stayed in my chair and smiled at my desktop photo of my 10-month old grandson. I felt overwhelmingly grateful for this little fellow. His cute innocent face reminds me how truly blessed I am in life. And then I relaxed.    

Filed in 2008

Our experiences form our perceptions of what is real for us. By examining my emotions as I’m having thoughts or hear myself spewing reactions (not high) to daily life stuff, I’ve come to realize something profound — profound to me, but I bet you already knew this (;-) — that to have noticeably more peace in my day and a greater sense of well-being, along with a greater sense of compassion for those I come into contact with, I must adopt the clear understanding that no matter what ’things work out.’ That life itself has a reliable basis. 

Adopting this one attitude is the huge and critical difference it takes to stop causing myself (and all those around me) fear which leads to suffering, anxiety, anger, and all the many icky things aroused by fear. 

Try it for yourself and see what happens.  

Filed in 2008

Picture this:

It’s the 2007 holiday season at my parent’s house. I’m helping out in the kitchen slicing up three desserts — two pies and a killer blueberry cheesecake thingy that my mom makes and the whole world loves. But since there’s three desserts and only a dozen people (totally stuffed to the eyeballs from the five course dinner we just inhaled), I only slice half of the blueberry dessert. That’s six sliced pieces, for you curious folks.

Two people request the blueberry dessert. Four slices are left in the pan plus the big unsliced half of the dessert.

Two people want pie. I scoop up the plates. Then comes another request for the blueberry. But just a tiny little piece. The blueberry requester is standing alongside me. 

By now, I’ve got both hands full with plates of pie as I’m about to fulfill two people’s pie dreams.

I acknowledge the blueberry request. “Okay. No problem.” 

Wanting to be helpful, the requester grabs the spatula and hovers just above the dessert. 

I feel it before I see it.

Crazy as it sounds, time sort of slows down. I know what’s about to happen and I’m powerless, powerless to do anything about it.

The requester is a millisecond from cutting into the uncut half of the dessert. My head reels. Why would she do that? There are already four, count them four blueberry slices just waiting to be hacked into little pieces. No need to cut into the rest.

My eyes meet the requester’s eyes. I silently will her to stop. In my head I’m screaming, Why would you do such a thing! See! See those already cut pieces? Take your piece from one of those, for god’s sake! Take one of those. 

I feel my mouth gape open, but nothing intelligent comes out. “Uh,” I say. “Um, uh.” Or maybe I don’t? Maybe I just think I’m making sound.

There’s a palpable thickness to the air. A vibe. Something. Something makes her stop, spatula poised over the dessert. She looks at me, my hands weighted with pie.

My breathing stops, my heart beats faster, I feel warmer, nearly flushed inside. Why? Why? Why? my eyes shout at her. I want her to wait. Silently, I beg her to wait. I will cut a piece for her from the already cut pieces. No need to cut what hasn’t been cut… 

Even in this state there’s a sane side whispering to me that there’s nothing actually wrong with what she’s doing. It’s this voice that makes me realize she must think me crazy. Clearly, I am.  

Without further delay, she cuts a tiny wedge from the uncut half, dumps it onto a plate and sits down, more or less unaware of my inner battle. 

I deliver the pies. I eat a slice of turtle pie myself. It’s pretty good.

And I’ve thought about this little lesson in mental awareness many times since.

What happened to me that day? Here’s the reality. I dearly love the requester. I’d gladly give her the entire dessert and would’ve made more right on the spot if she would’ve wanted me to. Besides, it wasn’t even my dessert. It was my mom’s. And she loves for people to eat her food.

So why was it so important to me at that moment that she didn’t cut into the uncut piece of dessert? All I can say is it was a habit — a reactionary habit from childhood no longer relevant or useful, yet obviously, not yet reconciled. 

And man, you should’ve felt my emotions — off the chart. My heart was a thumping, my head was swimming, my eyes bulging, I felt warm and explosive inside. 

A person may think I’m blowing things out of proportion — not so. While admitedly the event was rediculous, the feelings and emotions created by it were real. I’m certain if my blood pressure had been taken at that exact moment it would’ve been elevated as well as my temperature. Not exactly good cell building blocks for the body, as science now knows.

The truth is that I put my health (and my sanity, my friendships, my love) at risk when I don’t stay aware, when I don’t stay mindful of what my thoughts and emotions create. We all do. And we don’t even realize we’re doing it.  

Filed in 2008

My husband is reading a fictional mystery series centered around a female detective. Midway into one of the books, he looked over his glasses at me and chuckled, “She’s a smart one,” he said.

“Who?” I said. “The author?”

He blinked. A moment of hesitation as he considered my question that was not a question.

He nodded. “I suppose that’s true.”

Now, I know (and he knows that I know) that he was talking about the female detective - the sassy, intelligent heroine of the story. But in truth this particular detective does not actually exist. She is a figment of the author’s imagination. She is not real. We know this.

BUT while we’re totally engrossed in a good story we willingly suspend what we know to be true and pretend that the people we encounter in the fictional world are real. We like doing this. It makes the story so much more enjoyable when we can relate to the characters. We forget, for the moment, that a flesh and blood author wrote the story. And if the story is told well enough, we forget that an author even exists.

I’ve been thinking about this. How a fictional world can become so real to us that we forget that it exists only because an author penned it. I think this type of realization is similar to how we’ve forgotten who we really are. We’re so caught up in our day to day existance and all the problems we face that we’ve forgotten this isn’t all that there is to life. We’ve forgotten that the world we see is based largely on our own perceptions of what we expect to see (formed by our experiences, bias, learnings, etc).  

We’re more than our house, our job, our social security number, our name, our body. We’re something more than our personality. There truly is something real powering our being. There is an essence, a source of real power eternally within us that is never fictional in nature, always true, and awaits our remembrance — our recognition. We need only contemplate the author behind our story.   

Filed in 2008

Question: What does a worm know that we don’t?

Answer: A LOT! A worm knows the answer to the BIG question that most of us grapple with — who are we really?

A worm does not wonder who it is. It innately KNOWS it’s a worm. And a worm is not hung up with thoughts that it is better or worse than any other creature. A worm tunnels the earth day in and day out, fully and perfectly expressing itself as a worm.

Now just imagine if someone said to the worm “You are a cat. But you are a horrible cat. You stink at the job of being a cat.” 

And imagine if the worm believed this was true. What do you think would happen to the worm? Do you think it would end up confused? Perhaps frustrated and angry? How can a worm possibly do what a cat can do?

Yet, if it truly believed it was a cat it would probably try to “act” like a cat. Of course, we all know this plan won’t work out very well for the worm because it is NOT a cat. We know it.

Hmmm…

We do this. We act like the worm who thinks it’s supposed to be a cat. We let others tell us who we are even though deep down we already KNOW who we are. We innately KNOW who we are, yet we “act” like we don’t know. We pretend we are something that we are not and then forget that we are pretending. This “forgetfulness” is our own doing, but we can change this — we can remember once again who we really are.  

Know right now that you are a powerful creator. You are the greatest miracle. What you think, say and do is powerful. You are more than you let yourself remember. You are the creative force preceding your every desire.

You are not weak. You can do and be anythihng you desire. You have the power to create sickness or health, poverty or wealth. You are not a victim. You are never alone. All the power and wisdom you evern need is within. You were born knowing this–you have only to remember. BE who you ARE.     

Filed in December 2007

I love this time of year. It’s Christmas time. The season of expansion — not only do our pants expand, but so do our hearts, our love, and our minds. We are kinder, more forgiving, more compassionate, more reflective, more of everything that is good. We are more.

And we feel great expressing our expansion because for a few short weeks we truly get in touch with who we really are. We ARE more. We are waaaaaaay bigger in every way than who we normally pretend to be.    

My meditation the other day yielded a cool little piece of advice: “Put away all thoughts of your self and think only of your Self and what that truly means.”

My true Self — my e-x-p-a-n-d-e-d Self knows that I am forever a co-creator with the One who created me. I have all of the universe and beyond at my command. What I think, say, and do, I will believe to be my true reality.

But my true Self is sooo much larger than anything my normal little self knows anything about, or for that matter, could ever imagine. My true Self (the God Self within) is all about unity and understanding that none of us are separate from one another — we are One. I cannot hurt you without causing pain to  myself.

BUT the reverse is also true: What I do in love for you, I also do for myself. What you do in love for me, you also do for yourself.

Yet, with all of this expanded power at our hands, what receives most of our attention?

Our teeny-tiny, whiny self. The little powerless self that truly doesn’t know which end is up.

And we listen to this little shrinking self — hang on its every word, as if it knows what’s its talking about.

But during this season of expansion, our attention shifts to Self. The expanded Self of One. One body, One Spirit. We are all One. And we know it. We even proove that we know it by our actions. We help those in need. We give to charities. We smile and greet one another. We practice patience in long store lines. We pray more. We hug more. We love more. We ARE more and we know it.    

Filed in December 2007