I was born in Wisconsin, in the heart of the flatlands, and never tired of the mountains’ majesties of the American west. We were winding up our vacation, enjoying the drive through the spacious plateaus of southern Oregon. After a number of high desert adventures we were ready to put it on cruise control. Little did we suspect that we were about to fall through the proverbial looking glass.
Self-awareness is often described as the cornerstone of personal development and growth. It is the ability to objectively observe and understand your thoughts, emotions, behaviors, and motivations.
Developing self-awareness (also known as mindfulness) is a journey that can lead to profound self-discovery and transformation. One of the most significant benefits of self-awareness is the ability to uncover and define your core values. Knowing your core values can serve as invaluable guidelines for setting and achieving meaningful goals in your life.
Have you ever believed something but weren’t really sure how much you believed it? Tests are a natural part of life. They give us a chance to put our beliefs on the line and see if they really have meaning.
For a few years before my beliefs were tested, I had practiced singing a sacred mantra called HU, an ancient word for God. I often sang it in contemplation or when problems came my way. I had read accounts of the HU doing phenomenal things for others, and I believed in its power, or at least I thought I did. It’s funny how easy it is to say you believe in the HU and casually practice it, and how difficult it is to totally rely upon it for survival.
For forty some years I’d wandered in a half-awake, half-slumber state of consciousness all the while wondering why life had to be so hard and unjust. Over time, my collective experiences had left me a few grains of understanding.
Today, I’ve accumulated enough grains of knowledge to maybe fill a small bucket. And who knows, come tomorrow I may need a larger container. But simply storing these grains of wisdom does little good unless sharing what has been learned by one’s endeavors. And yet, for all that such renderings invoke, there are moments when only the poetic voice speaks to what is truly in one’s heart and Soul.
On Easter weekend 2020 our small town was filled with tension as the government placed restrictions on the activities of daily living. Many people had stopped going out to work, shop, or exercise. They holed up in their homes, venturing out only for walks and a little fresh air. People didn’t know what to do. What was safe? What was kind to others?
I enjoy connecting with people in a store or on the street to share a smile, a joke, or an uplifting story, and most important, a little love. How could I reach out to people when everyone nervously stayed at arm’s length? One approach bubbled up spontaneously and blossomed over time.
Working in the Disability Services field, I would usually associate IQ with a person’s mental and functional ability to live their life as independently as possible. It wasn’t until I started using spiritual techniques such as chanting mantras, contemplating, and practicing mindfulness, that I could see a direct correlation between spiritual IQ and my ability to live in harmony and balance with the Infinite.
Daily practices like this certainly help me to live more graciously, but also to be awake to life’s synchronicities and guidance through waking dreams.
“What is life? Is life the seeds of grass, drifting aimlessly, at times multiplying then dying, while at other times being swept into the vast expanse of the heavens?”
—Inspired by various passages in the chapter “What is Life” in the book Dialogues with the Master by Paul Twitchell, 1983 edition.
It is early December in beautiful rural Vermont. The snow is already a foot deep, and today the sky is cloudless—a vibrant blue. Veronica is meditating on this scene from her picture window. Suddenly, she watches as a Cardinal, flying full speed toward her house, crashes into the “invisible” glass barrier. Veronica gasps as she observes it drop, a lifeless, crimson splotch—like a blood stain—in the expanse of pure, sparkling snow. She is distraught and seeks a meaning.
