I don't think I actually have ANYTHING left from the time that I was six years old, except maybe a few core beliefs. Hmmmmmm. A couple of new wounds to my tender heart have caused me to back up and take stock of some of the things that "I know for sure." Sounds easy, doesn't it? Just look at the belief, try it on (like an ancient pair of spectator pumps), shine it up a bit and put it back into the rotation as a "classic." The problem is, that some of my beliefs are permanently outdated.
Being raised in very Catholic surroundings, I realize today that there was barely any discernable difference between the messages that I got from my parents, the clergy and/or God. In fact, I first came into contact with what I call "The Voice," when I was very young -- maybe 4 or 6. What I'm sure I heard was "do everything for everyone else and ask for nothing for yourself." Ok -- not that fair, but after all, it was The Voice, so what real choice did I have? Comply or be smited. I know that I also grew up with the idea that there was NEVER going to be enough. In particular, love. Never enough love.
Maybe, just maybe, these two thoughts collided in the stratosphere and I adopted the idea that there would simply never be enough love for ME. Years have passed and I have been willing to accept that in fact there is always enough. Love feeds on itself and creates more of the same. Love inhabits and multiplies through all who travel in faith, in service, in wonderment, and in quandry. One of my mentors once said "love is not a pie" and another declared "there's enough 'like' for everyone." What I stayed with was that none of it was earmarked for me. Clearly, the current lifetime that I had assumed here was to be one of great sacrifice. I have to say here, that I became secretly enamored with the idea that I would be the poster child for the "unloved." Somehow, maybe being specifically "unloved" made me more loveable. If not more loveable, then most certainly I was on the right path to redemption and the ultimate earning of love. But love, as it turns out, is the original renewable resource.
Here is the spiritual closet cleaning, then. What if The Divine really called on me at a very young age to be a bearer of love to those who could not hear it through traditional sources? What if my special calling in this life was to hear those who cried out in ways that were not scooped up easily. Because, truly, as I review my life, those have been some of the most sacred experiences in my life. I never feel more myself than when I am mirroring for an injured soul that amazing part of them that is obscured by their current pain and confusion. I always feel absolutely CERTAIN that I am right about their magnificence and I am equally sure in those tender moments that the clarity I see is not of my making or even of my uncovering, but rather I have been given a VIP pass to one of God's most precious creatures. And in that moment, I too, feel love and affirmation and comfort.
So many people want to talk to me of what "little cathy" might need. I rebuff such musings given the fact that she has seemingly been at the root of all this spiritual whining for all these years. In this moment, though, I am going to publicly acknowledge her. I have only a glimpse of her. She is wide-eyed, wispy haired and spinning fast enough to feel her pink cotton skirt float gently with her rotations. She has tipped her head back to feel the full warmth of the sun on her face and she is certain that the music playing is hers and hers alone. As she tilts her head back to center and opens her eyes, it is me again, but i can feel that her little spirit is settling a little deeper in my soul. Along with her is the very palpable gift of having some insight into how to love individuals in his or her own language.
One of my favorite quotes as a teenager was "If you're not living on the edge, you're taking up too much space." As my life has unfolded that quote started to mean whatever you do don't take up too much space. And today I humbly concede that the space that has been assigned to me will go unattended if I do not take it up. Little Cathy has trundled off to find more fields in which to twirl and I am here with the magical, mystical Divine, decoding my own personal rosetta stone and fine tuning my spiritual ear to The Voice.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
A writer writes, right?
So this whole little experiment has been to see or rather explore the bounds of my personal creativity. To determine what, how and where I would like to share myself with the world, or at least my little part of it. The woman who encouraged me in this direction (a blog IS the baby step in this instance) said to figure out WHY you are pulled to this. She said that it would be important to know WHY so that when obstacles came, it would be easy to stay the course. I politely acknowledged what she had to say. After all, it certainly sounds wise. But to tell the truth, I thought, "Really? Think about WHY you want to write? A writer writes, right? And what could possibly deter a writer from writing, except maybe sloth or poor time management."
As with most things, the Universe is always ready with an answer. I had been waiting for a very long time to tell the story of my beloved Frankie. Such a remarkable experience in my life to have been blessed with this amazing animal when it was never on my radar in the first place. So -- I did just that -- wrote the tender love story of my heart.
This must be the IT, I thought. The message that I will share with other people: The way to develop and use unconditional love to make our lives more meaningful.
I have learned from my pets that the gift of unconditional love is not necessarily evident to those who receive it, but it is completely life changing to us when we give it. People have shared for years that they received unconditional love from their pets. That was not really my experience. My sweet girl came to me pretty aloof. I would catch the occasional connection in her eyes, but mostly she kept to herself. She started out very compliant and as I had never been a pet owner, I thought that this was how it would always be. One day, though, after she got her footing in our family, I came home to what can only be described as a scene from a Disney movie gone bad. The down cushion from one of our "special" chairs had been torn to shreds. Down feathers were EVERYWHERE and even as the remnants of the good chair were poofing from her mouth, she looked at me with innocent eyes that said "Mama, where have you been? You should have seen what happened here!" I was devastated. I felt so personally injured and wondered how she could do this "to" me? I had learned so little about how to have a long term relationship with an animal and I was left confused, frustrated and desperate. What I did know was that everything had been cemented between the two of us with a leash and a pair of running shoes so that's what we did. I put on my shoes, pulled my hair back, put Frankie on her pink lead and left the house sobbing. I walked and cried and talked. She was completely unaffected. I wanted with ever fiber of my being to "understand" why she had done this. As I walked and cried and talked, I got more and more angry. As we came around another corner, I was certain that there was some drastic outcome for the chair incident and was working on what to tell my husband, what I was going to be willing to accept and actually starting to think that he might not want to keep her in our family. Only to hear a woman screaming at and wailing on her dog. The tears of anger quickly gave way to complete and total acceptance. I slipped down to the nearest curb, wrapped my arms around my pup and sobbed. I knew in that moment that she was not going anywhere -- down cushions be damned.
I had, for a most dramatic moment in my life come into acceptance and unconditional love of another living being. And nothing that has ever happened since has changed the way I feel about my girl. Even two weeks ago when the "hunter" instinct in her took over and a small fluffy neighborhood pet was the unfortunate victim.
What it has done, however, is change the way I see myself. I am back to needing to define or identify the WHY. I had such lofty thoughts about why and how I would begin to craft and share a "message." It was intended to be a message of hope and comfort and now I am seeing that the only way I can possibly do that is to take in all these lessons that come to me from the Universe. I am struck today by the amount of grace it takes to heal a broken or wounded heart. The wonderous thing for me is that Grace really is an unlimited resource available to each of us simply by receiving.
Throughout the past two weeks as I have struggled with my family to come to terms with a truly awful thing, my message today is that this spiritual quest did not arrive on the angel wings I expected, but in a very Chop Wood, Carry Water way. By being present here and now, I feel aligned with a much greater global suffering and am humbled by the miraculous way this suffering is healing my soul. Amen.
As with most things, the Universe is always ready with an answer. I had been waiting for a very long time to tell the story of my beloved Frankie. Such a remarkable experience in my life to have been blessed with this amazing animal when it was never on my radar in the first place. So -- I did just that -- wrote the tender love story of my heart.
This must be the IT, I thought. The message that I will share with other people: The way to develop and use unconditional love to make our lives more meaningful.
I have learned from my pets that the gift of unconditional love is not necessarily evident to those who receive it, but it is completely life changing to us when we give it. People have shared for years that they received unconditional love from their pets. That was not really my experience. My sweet girl came to me pretty aloof. I would catch the occasional connection in her eyes, but mostly she kept to herself. She started out very compliant and as I had never been a pet owner, I thought that this was how it would always be. One day, though, after she got her footing in our family, I came home to what can only be described as a scene from a Disney movie gone bad. The down cushion from one of our "special" chairs had been torn to shreds. Down feathers were EVERYWHERE and even as the remnants of the good chair were poofing from her mouth, she looked at me with innocent eyes that said "Mama, where have you been? You should have seen what happened here!" I was devastated. I felt so personally injured and wondered how she could do this "to" me? I had learned so little about how to have a long term relationship with an animal and I was left confused, frustrated and desperate. What I did know was that everything had been cemented between the two of us with a leash and a pair of running shoes so that's what we did. I put on my shoes, pulled my hair back, put Frankie on her pink lead and left the house sobbing. I walked and cried and talked. She was completely unaffected. I wanted with ever fiber of my being to "understand" why she had done this. As I walked and cried and talked, I got more and more angry. As we came around another corner, I was certain that there was some drastic outcome for the chair incident and was working on what to tell my husband, what I was going to be willing to accept and actually starting to think that he might not want to keep her in our family. Only to hear a woman screaming at and wailing on her dog. The tears of anger quickly gave way to complete and total acceptance. I slipped down to the nearest curb, wrapped my arms around my pup and sobbed. I knew in that moment that she was not going anywhere -- down cushions be damned.
I had, for a most dramatic moment in my life come into acceptance and unconditional love of another living being. And nothing that has ever happened since has changed the way I feel about my girl. Even two weeks ago when the "hunter" instinct in her took over and a small fluffy neighborhood pet was the unfortunate victim.
What it has done, however, is change the way I see myself. I am back to needing to define or identify the WHY. I had such lofty thoughts about why and how I would begin to craft and share a "message." It was intended to be a message of hope and comfort and now I am seeing that the only way I can possibly do that is to take in all these lessons that come to me from the Universe. I am struck today by the amount of grace it takes to heal a broken or wounded heart. The wonderous thing for me is that Grace really is an unlimited resource available to each of us simply by receiving.
Throughout the past two weeks as I have struggled with my family to come to terms with a truly awful thing, my message today is that this spiritual quest did not arrive on the angel wings I expected, but in a very Chop Wood, Carry Water way. By being present here and now, I feel aligned with a much greater global suffering and am humbled by the miraculous way this suffering is healing my soul. Amen.
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