How do we do this? We don’t see as we did when we were children. With wonderment. Over time our senses have dulled. We’ve seen so much. Perhaps too much. There may be things we wish we have never seen. Continue reading
I love how this is true both literally and symbolically.
For a literal example, consider the Red Rock formations of Sedona, Arizona. Many of them are named according to how they look when viewed from certain vantage points, such as Merry-Go-Round, Snoopy, and God’s Chair.
We used to live near what is called “Coffee Pot Rock.” From that area, the formation does resemble an old style percolator. But, when seen from various spots along hiking trails, that same rock can look like a chicken or just a rock with no meaningful shape.
May we be willing to see things differently by making changes in how and where we stand on positions and life situations, especially if we find ourselves seeing ourselves and others as wrong, bad, or just not good enough.
Today, let’s take a stand that allows us to see beauty.
In my previous post I presented the entire speech made by Principal Donna Hayward to the 2014 graduating class of Suffield High School in Suffield, CT. While the whole commencement address is powerful, I want to highlight this extraordinary example of strength and courage. May the actions of Iqbal Masih and a group of Canadian 12-year-old children move us to use the gifts of strength and courage however we can, in ways large and small, day by day. Thank you again, Donna, for permission to share your words.
“…This year, I also learned the story of a young boy named Iqbal Masih and his story illustrates how each of us can fight injustice in our own way in our own world. Iqbal was a young Pakistani boy, who was sold into bondage by his parents at the age of four in order to pay off a debt of what amounted to about $16. He worked for years, chained to a weaving loom, fashioning the tiny knots in Pakistani rugs with his small fingers. Although he worked alongside dozens of other children with the same fate, somehow Iqbal felt inside himself a flame of injustice and rebelled against it at the age of ten by running away from his master. When he did, he happened upon an activist in the village square, making a speech about how child slavery had been outlawed – a surprise to Iqbal – and the young boy told a police officer standing nearby that he, in fact, was a child slave. He led the officer back to his master, anticipating justice. Instead, the officer was bribed by the slave owner and left Iqbal behind – the boy facing a cruel punishment instead of the justice he sought. But Iqbal had courage and strength and soon ran away again, this time finding the man who had given the speech in the village square. He brought the activist back to his master, and this man couldn’t be bought or silenced so all the children in Iqbal’s factory were freed. Iqbal joined the Bonded Labour Liberation Front and became famous because he continued his crusade, actually sneaking into other child-slave-shops, gaining the trust of the children and then triggering a raid on the outfit by the liberation group, freeing over 3,000 children in all. Eventually, he visited other countries, including the U.S., to tell his story and advocate for justice in ending childhood slavery. Ultimately, however, Iqbal was murdered when he returned to Pakistan to visit his family. He was only 12 years old. Continue reading
A week ago, Suffield High School Principal Donna Hayward in Suffield, Connecticut delivered a commencement address that was inspired by The Twelve Gifts of Birth. I’m sharing it here because I believe Ms. Hayward’s message of hope and courage is for all of us. Thank you, Donna, for permission to post your speech along with your photo. I hope to meet you someday, new friend! And thank you, dear reader. As always, I would love to hear your comments.
Class of 2014, you are just minutes from receiving your high school diploma. Your parents are wondering how you got here so fast, as it seems such a short time ago that you were born. Just a few years ago, you took your first steps, spoke your first words, got on the school bus kindergarten bound, learned to ride a bike. This is a natural time for your parents to reflect on the last 18 or so years and for us, your teachers, to reflect on whatever role we have played in your upbringing. As it turns out, teaching and parenting are closely related.
When my daughter was born, we received the usual tidal wave of gifts – blankets, cute little outfits, and baby gear of all kinds. One gift, in particular, though stood out as it arrived without a note or tag from the sender to indicate who had given it. One day, it simply arrived in my mailbox – its message clear – but to this day I don’t know who sent it. It was a book entitled, The Twelve Gifts of Birth, by Charlene Costanzo and it details the gifts or qualities bestowed upon each of you upon your birth as a human. “Royal dignity was yours from the day you were born,” the book begins – and on that day and on a day such as this all parents and teachers hope their children know these gifts. My role today is to remind you that you do all have them and to implore you to use them consciously and with purpose from this day forward.
The first gift is Hope and each of you were born with it. Continue reading
Like my friend Kathy, I’ve given up complaining for Lent. We’re both finding it harder than the fasting from chocolate we did as children. Not that we now want to complain more than we wanted chocolate as kids, it’s just that complaints have a way of slipping out. That’s one of the reasons we’re aiming to abstain. It helps us become aware of how often we whine, and becoming aware is the first step toward change.
Have you ever heard of the Complaint Free World project? In 2006, a man named Will Bowen challenged fellow church members to give up complaining for 21 days straight. His idea caught on and spread throughout the world. Since the project started, more than 10 million people have received the purple bracelet that is used as a tool in the project.
Here’s a related idea: What if, besides working toward a complaint-free world, we create a compliment-rich world? Continue reading
~ Psalm 51:10
I love this psalm.
Long ago I had a vinyl record of a song inspired by this passage. I can still play it in my mind.
As winter ends and spring draws near, let’s make way for heart cleanings and clearings.
Intend to release judgments, regrets, and resentments. Consider using, today and every day, a song, a prayer, a ritual, an affirmation, some activity that helps you open to the grace of letting go, with love and compassion.
“I like living. I have sometimes been wildly, despairingly, acutely miserable, racked with sorrow, but through it all I still know quite certainly that just to be alive is a grand thing.” – Agatha Christie
When our grandchildren, Alexis and Anthony, come to visit, my husband and I often lay out though the house a paper strip trail for them to follow.
Around tables and over beds, the trail leads them in and out of rooms in search of “X marks the spot.” There, under the X, they will find some little treat or trinket.
While they delight in whatever they find under the X, and say “thank you” very nicely, it seems to me that the peak of their joy is at the start of the hunt, just seeing a portion of the trail ahead, along with the process of discovering the course of the path.
This seems like a metaphor for living each day. We don’t know where the day will lead us, what obstacles we may face, what twists and turns there may be for us. Still, this day, every day, is an adventure in living. It holds a gift. It is a grand thing just to be alive!
Wishing you sweet discoveries every day, with love.
“Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day,” wrote A.A. Milne.
As I rush toward leaving home to go on a personal retreat, I’m holding these quotes in mind. Wise advice, both of them. Lately my pace has been more like a hurricane wind than a tree growing or a river flowing or the swimming turtle I saw in the pond near my home this morning.
How has your pace been this summer? Whatever your pace, I invite you to practice “unconditional friendliness” toward yourself and what is in your life right now.
Unconditional friendliness. Like the quotes above, I’m holding this expression like a touchstone as I aim to be compassionate and not judge myself for once again letting things get out of balance and swing wildly like a conch shell hanging from a string on tree during high winds.
I hope you enjoy the playful lightness of this “Official Weather Conch” photo, taken on a vacation a few years ago, and feel the love with which this post is written.
I find it fun and somewhat funny to read what was (obviously now) limiting thinking in the past.
After chuckling about them, limiting beliefs from the past can help us realize that they are not funny when we are being limited by them. Here are a few examples:
“Louis Pasteur’s theory of germs is ridiculous fiction.” ~ Pierre Pachet, Professor of Physiology at Toulouse, 1872
“This ‘telephone’ has too many shortcomings to be seriously considered as a means of communication. The device is inherently of no value to us.” ~ a Western Union internal memo, 1876
“I think there is a world market for maybe five computers.” ~ Thomas Watson, Chairman of IBM, 1943
“There is no reason why anyone would want a home computer.” ~ Ken Olson, President, Chairman, and Founder of Digital Equipment Corp., 1977
“It will be years — not in my time — before a woman will become Prime Minister.” ~ Margaret Thatcher, 1974
As we all know, germs are real, telephones and computers are everywhere, and Margaret Thatcher was able to release her limiting thinking and become Prime Minister.
Let’s uncover and release our own limiting beliefs, such as “I’m not enough,” and see what we become.
Isn’t it amazing how wisdom speaks to us in so many ways?
Have you ever had a song suddenly start playing in your mind? I’m pretty sure we’ve all had this experience sometime. It happened to me this morning with Peter, Paul, and Mary’s folk version of Rock My Soul.
Oh rock my soul…
So high can’t get over it
So low can’t get under it
So wide can’t get round it
Oh rock my soul…
I hadn’t heard this song since 1969, when a hundred or so other St. Bonaventure students and I sang along with The Wooden Nickel performances on Saturday nights at the O.H. in Olean, New York.
Back then, I didn’t know what the “it” was in
“can’t get over it…under it…or round it.”
And I still don’t know for sure.
But this morning I got a clue–at least about what “it” meant to me in the moment.
I was feeling a deep hurt.
When the song started “playing,”
it felt like wisdom, gently guiding.
“Don’t try to ignore, deny, or stifle the hurting,” it said.
“You can’t climb over it, sneak under it, or run around it.
And it’s best not to.”
Upon hearing the inner music, I got it.
It is what it is and I need to let it be… as another song goes, speaking words of wisdom.
Let it be. Let it be, sang the Beatles.
Yes. Let it be.
When hurt fills you, what do you do?
Perhaps these songs sound true for you too.
Instead of trying to escape or suppress pain,
we can breathe, let it be,
and let ourselves be cradled in compassion
and rocked by Love Itself.
Wishing you all of life’s gifts and wonders, today and every day.
And, may your soul be gently rocked.