Miss July

Evita at Evolving Beings has honored me with an interview this month, part of her series profiling a different person every month. The process of answering her questions led me to reflect on my life these past years more deeply than I usually do. I thought I would share the questions with you in case you would like to explore these questions in your own life. And of course, if you would like to share any of your thoughts in the comments, please do!

Here are her questions. Hope you will have some fun and perhaps gain some insight in answering them.

1. What area(s) of your spiritual/emotional life have you decided to change and why? (focus is on past)

2. What strategies have you implemented to change, who inspired you, person or organization, book, etc.? (focus is on present)

3. How have the changes benefitted your overall life, happiness up to this point? (focus is on present versus past)

4. What are the next steps or goals in your life as an evolving being? (focus is on near future)

5. What message do you have for others who are struggling or embarking on a similar journey? (words of wisdom/inspiration)

If you would like to read my interview on her site, please click here.

I hope everyone has a wonderful weekend, a holiday weekend if you are in the US, where we are celebrating the 4th of July. I will be “unplugged” up at my cabin, so if there is a delay in posting your comments, please know that all your comments are very important and I will post them immediately when I get back on Monday. And we will then get started on our focus this month, Step 7-Practice compassion.

Who are Your People?

In the South, this question is sometimes asked as a way of getting to know someone. Who are your people means who is your family? Where are your roots? How are you connected to me, in that six degrees of separation kind of way?

I was raised in Memphis, Tennessee. My people of origin come from the Ozarks of Missouri. I have now lived in the Pacific Northwest for twenty years and call it home. When she was five, I took my daughter to a family reunion in the little Ozark town where our family comes from. We checked into the tiny motel, the only one in town. We walked into our room, which was hot as Hades and had a faint odor of mildew rising from the stained shag carpet. I was trying to figure out how to crank up the window unit air conditioner, when Mia asked, “Mommy, what is this?” I turned and saw what she was holding. “Sugar, that’s how you know you are in a first class deluxe establishment. That is a fly swatter.”

While we waited for other kinfolk to show up, we moseyed across the road to the Wal-Mart. As soon as we walked in the store, I saw my cousin Jayma Sue. And there was Monty Max and Bonnie Jo and Wanda Fern. And more. Soon we were having a family reunion in the aisles of Wal-Mart. My heart was filled with the warm embrace of my heritage, and I thought with grateful affection “These are my people.”

I saw a bumper sticker once that said, “All people are my people.” I was reminded of my Southern roots and the importance of knowing who your people are. I remembered that day in Wal-Mart. Can I look at all people with that same depth of recognition and affection? After all, at some level, we all share common ancestry, don’t we? We are our people.

Our usual concept of “us” and “them” is outdated. In its place, we need an attitude that sees all human beings as our brothers and sisters, that considers others to be part of “us.” –The Dalai Lama

Related post: There is No Them
revised from archives

Life is Good

I went to the vet today to pick up dog food for Sadie. Behind the desk was a makeshift enclosure with four kittens napping in a pile in the corner, three tan and one gray. Two weeks ago, one of the doctors arrived to open the clinic and found a cardboard box taped shut, sitting by the door. No noise was coming from the box. She opened the box with some trepidation...and up popped four little faces. The kittens were nursed back to good health and were now looking for homes.

While I was checking out, they woke up and began to play, leaping and stalking and pouncing. Even though my business was concluded, I stayed and watched. I couldn’t quit smiling and laughing. Pretty soon, the staff gathered around. And even a customer who was there because his dog had cancer was laughing, too. One of the vets came out to watch. I remarked that she saw cute little animals all the time and asked if she ever was immune to such adorableness. She just shook her head and laughed.

Two weeks ago, these kittens were abandoned, covered with fleas, malnourished, one near death. And here they were, soft and sleek, with bright eyes and tails high, full of joy and promise. I looked around at the people watching them, faces beaming with delight, all the chores put on hold, cares momentarily forgotten, hearts open and spirits soaring.

What magic is this? What power these little furry beings have to stop us all in our tracks and join us together in appreciation of life’s wonder.

My nephew’s favorite saying is “Life is good.” It is good indeed.

Voices in the Sea

I wrote earlier this month about taking the complaint free challenge. The goal is to break the habit of complaining by going 21 days complaint free. I have managed to go several days at a stretch so far, but then something will happen that irritates me enough that it seems worth starting the count over in order to voice my momentary displeasure.

Then I read a passage in a book that stopped me in my whiny tracks. The book is The Pursuit of Happiness by David Myers. In one chapter, the author suggested that having a broader view puts our trivial, temporary inconveniences in perspective.

A British veteran reflected on his experience with things of gravest import after sailing with Russia-bound convoys through German-submarine-infested icy waters: “There are two things that I shall always remember. The first is the sound of men’s voices in the sea at night, when you can’t stop to pick them up ... and the other is the sound of people’s voices complaining in the shops at home.”

When I read that, I felt so ashamed of the things I thought warranted my critical commentary. I’ll give you two recent examples. It was hot in taekwondo class the other night. I leaned my sweaty face near a classmate’s and moaned, “I’m dying in here!” Well, it was hot, but of course I wasn’t dying. I was voluntarily engaging in an activity I truly enjoy.

The second example is a bit more complicated. The simple version is that I am struggling to get health insurance since my retirement, and I spent several conversations with friends detailing the hours I have spent in the infuriating morass of insurance runaround, and outlining everything that is wrong with our health insurance system in the US. Yes, there are problems with our system, to be sure, and there is nothing wrong with having an opinion about the pros and cons of various alternatives. But I wasn’t having a reasoned discussion. I was griping, pure and simple.

This short passage with the stark contrast went right into my heart. Perhaps because I am terrified of drowning, and the image of being abandoned in dark, icy waters infested with anything is an image that makes my heart race and drops me to my knees in gratitude for the ridiculously blessed life I have.

I’m reminded of a blogger I greatly admire who writes about her son Sammy’s battle with leukemia. During some irritating incident they encountered, young Sammy put it all in perspective by wisely observing, “It’s not as bad as cancer.”

Out of the mouths of babes.

Thank You, Alfredo!

I’m going to digress from our June topic of judging to tell you about a special person. Alfredo was my student in his first year of law school years ago. As some of you might know, and others can guess, the first year of law school is very stressful. It is unlike any academic work most students have encountered. Whether students are coming straight from undergraduate programs or from the working world, they are usually overwhelmed. And to make it worse, most first year law courses are graded solely on a single exam at the end of the semester. (Don’t get me started on the wisdom of this approach to legal education or I will have to switch my “complaint bracelet” to the other wrist!)

It is not uncommon for first year students to experience panic as their first exams approach. This panic leads some to reevaluate their desire and commitment to be part of the legal profession. I did not sense this growing panic in Alfredo. He was a model student all semester. A career Army guy, he was unfailingly polite (always called me ma’am), worked hard, and did well in class. So I was very surprised to get a notice from the registrar shortly before first semester exams that he had withdrawn from school.

Never hesitant to butt into other people’s business(!), I contacted him immediately and asked him to come see me right away. I had a hunch that he was making a decision out of anxiety and not out of a clear recognition that law school was not his thing. (Law school isn’t for everyone and that’s fine.) Another professor also encouraged him to reconsider.

In short, he decided to get reinstated and take his exams. Two and a half years later, I met his family at his law school graduation. They were so proud of him, and rightly so. And I was very pleased because I knew all along that he would be a great lawyer. I knew he would be great because he has the right stuff – integrity, humility, courage, devotion, intelligence, compassion, and a sense of service. (No one will be making bad lawyer jokes about this guy.)

I lost touch with him over the years, but he contacted me recently after receiving the announcement from the school about my retirement. He is currently serving in Iraq as an officer in the JAG Corps, working to stabilize the government as we pull out. If anyone can make a difference there, I’m sure he can.

Today, I was surprised and intrigued by a heavy package delivered by the mail carrier. It was from Alfredo, all the way from Iraq. Inside were exquisite small tablecloths, embroidered with beads and sequins. And a set of brilliant emerald green crystal bowls. I was moved to tears by the beauty of the gift, but even more so by the beauty of the sentiment.

As I reflect on my career, I have many wonderful memories and many things I am proud of. But at the top of my list is the honor of knowing Alfredo and playing whatever small part I played, along with others, at a crossroads in his life. So today’s post is dedicated to Alfredo. Thank you for persevering to become part of a profession I love. Thank you for serving our country. Thank you for remembering me. And thank you for a gift I will treasure always.

Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

When you see a good person,
think about evaluating that person.
When you see a bad person,
think about evaluating yourself.
–Confucius, quoted by Steve DeMasco in The Shaolin Way

Sometimes we are our own harshest critics, especially when we are criticizing someone else!

Last fall, I had one of those one-finger-pointing-at-someone-else-three-fingers-pointed-at-myself experiences. A colleague sent an email complaining about his teaching schedule. Because he thought my schedule was part of the unfairness (to him), I was copied on it. As it turns out, my schedule was not the one putting him at a perceived disadvantage; it was someone else’s. Then in the series of emails, he questioned the “POWER” of this other person to claim the coveted time slot.

Not sure if he was joking (I don’t know him very well), I deflected the issue with some weak humor. Afterwards, I pondered the email exchange and gifted what I labeled as his petty ego trip with some condescending compassion. Condescending, I say, because I saw myself as quite above such a silly fray. Way too spiritual, too serene, too wise. Concerned more with REAL suffering in the world rather than whether I would be coming home an hour later after work.

Basking in my moral superiority as I condemned his sense of workplace superiority (you see where this is going), I suddenly “saw” a mirror in front of me. I remembered years when an hour in my schedule meant the difference between being able to pick up my kids after school or needing after school childcare. I don’t know anything about my colleague’s personal life. That hour might be very important. Indeed, I remember times when I was practically apoplectic over being kept waiting 10 minutes. When I thought I was entitled to something better than someone else. Who am I to judge him?

Disappointed that my enjoyment of being more-enlightened-than-thou was so abruptly cut short, I started wondering if there was anything I could judge someone for that I wasn’t guilty of myself. Surely there is something I could point at and say with confidence, “I never have done and never would do that!” After several hours I couldn’t think of anything that I was not guilty of, either directly or indirectly.

Earlier this year, I was struggling more deeply with what I labeled as a careless and selfish choice by one of my kids. Her choice has changed her life and the lives of those around her, including mine. I was feeling resentful and angry. How could she be so unthinking about the consequences of her actions, so cavalier about their impact on others?

Then I remembered myself at her age. I was every parent’s worst nightmare. All I can say is that I must have had a whole platoon of guardian angels on 24/7 duty shifts, because it is truly a miracle that I did not destroy my life and take a few lives down with me during my tumultuous adolescence. As I said to one of my other kids once when she was amazed that I caught her doing something she was sure she could get away with, “Honey, you are not even in my league.” I am so glad my parents lived long enough to see me turn into a halfway decent human being. When I think of my own youth, I fall to my knees in gratitude for every one of my kids.

Seeing our judgments reflected back to us certainly takes the fun out of it! Thank God.

We don’t see things as they are. We see them as we are. –Anais Nin

First Date

I read a book by Mark Hughes, the title of which begins I Am Not a Prophet.... I was immediately attracted to the title, thinking “I’m not a prophet, too!” The author’s point is that we don’t need to be anyone special to hear our inner guidance. The answer we seek can only be found within. And here’s the good news – everyone can find it.

Okay, okay, I get that. But maybe if I just read one more book, go to one more presentation, attend one more meditation workshop, listen to one more teacher.... Maybe if I keep looking out there, I will find what I’m looking for in here. So I keep reading about meditation, about listening to my inner guidance, about forgiveness, about compassion, about being here now. If I keep reading about, perhaps I will become....

If I could just get to that darned nirvana place, my life would be so much better. I would be calm and joyful all the time. I would be wise. My life would be eternally blissful. I would never, ever be angry or judgmental or unhappy or even cranky. I would be a better person. A much better person.

Pema Chodron says that this way of thinking is a subtle form of aggression (sometimes not so subtle, I think). We blame ourselves or others because of what we perceive as some lack in our own life. If it weren’t for my boss, the government, my childhood, my neighbor, my ex, the terrorists, the weather, my life would be great. And my personal favorite, “If it weren’t for my mind, my meditation would be excellent.”

Instead, she says, we don’t need to change anything about ourselves. We can still be our crazy, cranky, impatient, insecure, silly selves. We don’t need to trade ourselves in for the new, shinier, upgraded model. Instead, we can make friends with ourselves. We can start where we are. Here. Right now.

We can start by suspending our judgments long enough to get to know who we are. Imagine that you are going out on a date with yourself. A first date. Feel the excitement and anticipation. Imagine you are sitting across the table from yourself at your favorite restaurant (or at some other favorite place). What would you ask yourself? How would you answer? Treat yourself with the same curiosity and courtesy you would give your date. Have a great time!

If we befriend ourselves, we might do less searching outside and more finding inside. We might even ask ourselves for a second date!

I’m headed up to my cabin for the weekend (no phone or internet), so I won’t be able to post your comments till I get back on Sunday. Please know that your comments are important to me and I look forward to reading them as soon as I get back!