Freedom from within is true freedom.

Freedom. What does it mean to Be free? I say “be” because to “have” freedom, freedom as a direct object, implies that it can be taken away and given to you or to/from somebody else–like a toy, a cookie, or affection. However, if you view freedom as something that you innately are, an adjective–maybe even more than that–freedom as a part of your being, your core essence, that is.  What does it mean to be “free”?

I would like to propose this idea that everyone of us, no matter where we live, are truly free beings. Some may argue, we are either free and have liberties; or we aren’t free and are enslaved in one way or another. This perspective is true when looking on the outside. But I am trying to offer a different perspective on freedom. Freedom with liberties is not the same as “being free”. So what do I mean by being free?

The Freedom (with a capital F) that you are is a truism–no matter the circumstances that you are living now, you are expressing yourself as one who is empowered and connected to the core essence of who you are. Being Free is knowing who you are beyond just your circumstances and from that place of knowing, you express your true nature as one who is eternally free.  There is a lot to unravel in that, so let me tell you a story…

…Imagine if you will, a child. A little girl or boy, it doesn’t matter. I will use the pronoun ‘he’ for simplicity.  This child was raised by very loving parents. The only child of this couple. Wanted and cherished he was.  As he grew from infancy and learned to walk, his parents protected him; following his every move. They put bumpers around the furniture, stoppers on the doors so he wouldn’t fall and hurt himself.  They loved him and protected his every step.

As the boy grew older, he started not needing those safety nets. He was running, playing, and learning to ride a bike. But the parents, out of their concern, kept the bumpers on the furniture and the training wheels on his bike. They followed his every move–ready at a moment’s notice to catch his falls.

A year or so passed, the child asked to have the training wheels taken off his bike.  The parents refused. “You’re safe this way”, they said. The child insisted that he was ready. Oh, was he ready to experience the freedom and the thrill of riding his bike all on his own. However, the parents argued out of love (or fear), that they knew better than their child. For they have lived longer, experienced more things, have felt the pain of hurting themselves and wanted to prevent their only child, whom they loved from experiencing that pain. So the bumpers stayed on the furniture and the training wheels stayed on their bike.  

As the child aged into a young adult, he lived his whole life being fed information that his parents wanted him to have; he was told stories that his parents wanted him to hear; he was surrounded by images that only his parents deemed he was worthy enough to see.  But time keeps moving forward, they couldn’t surround him forever. Then the day came, when the child became a man and moved out into the world. 

He saw furniture and doors for the first time without bumpers. He got used to rounded corners until the first time he ran his knee into the edge of a coffee table.  The pain hit, but it was temporary. “That’s not so bad.” He thought. And he carried on his way.

For the first time, the man got on a bike without training wheels. He didn’t know if he could ride or not. It didn’t take long for him to learn how to handle the curves in the road, to pedal uphill with power and coast when gliding back down. Soon the man was proficient and even successful navigating on his own. 

During the first few years as an adult, the man experiences all the joy, happiness, love, heartache, pain and disappointment that a life offers.  The man was empowered to be who he was born to be–with all of his own ideas, desires, and imperfections. Soon, the time came when he went back to see his parents.

They were so happy to see each other. It had been a long time and all of them embraced in love. The man began to tell them of his adventures–how he created his own life stories and experiences. He told them of how he even rode a bike for miles without training wheels! He told them how he fell off once or twice–the pain eventually healed and he wasn’t afraid to get back and ride again. 

His parents looked at him with endearment, but confusion. “Why wouldn’t you want to do things the way they’ve always been done? The way we raised you?” They asked. “The world is a tough place, full of disappointments; things that can make or break you. Why, my son, are you living out there this way?”

The man looked into their loving but fearful eyes. He felt a wave of compassion roll over him. Compassion for those who he loves and compassion for all the people who let fear cloud their perceptions of the world and stifle their ability to be truly free from within…

So, I ask…What does it mean to Be Free? I think freedom means different things to different people. To me, it means to view the world in your own truth no matter what others want you to see or believe. It means to be confident in your own journey, no matter how many falls or mistakes you make–it’s your journey, not anyone else’s. 

I’d like to end with a quote from his Holiness the Dalai Lama:

“If we want to see a more peaceful world, we have to learn to collaborate. Young people should not follow previous patterns of behavior. New conditions, such as our independent, globalized world require new ideas. New concepts. Dividing people into Us and them is out of date! And so it is!”

–Dalai Lama-June 21st, 2021.

I am eternally grateful for the opportunity to share my thoughts and feelings. Love and gratitude to everyone listening and reading. May we each find peace within and radiate it outward as a shining light of love.

The Shaman in the room

Imagine if  you will, a small classroom full of 6th graders anticipating the first day of school.  There is a slight murmur of noise and laughter. Some students are confidently leaning back in their chairs. Others are trying not to be seen, with their heads down and pencils writing some unknown, non-sense words in a crisp new notebook. I am their teacher, ready for their attention at the white board.  All of us are anticipating the next move. Which proverbial shoe will drop first?

That is when I heard it.  A low humming sound at first. Then it stopped. I look around the dimly lit room. Something was different about these students.  I noticed some kids had their mothers with them.  Others were very sad looking and had pacifiers.  Odd, I thought. Why would there be mothers in class? And what is it with a 6th grader using a pacifier? Do I take it away? Gross! Is it a special fidget that is allowed by the child’s learning plan? I was in the middle of this conundrum, when I heard the noise again…This time it was louder.

…Is that….Is that…chanting?!

Can’t be. This is science class after all, and I am the teacher. I’m here, at the white board! The learning objective was written;  I fully expect my students to be writing it down and paying attention to the day’s lesson.  Yet, I can’t ignore the chanting. I turn and look to the back of the classroom where the noise was coming from. And there I see him.

He is a young native american man. Navajo, I’m told in my head.  He is older than a 6th grader, but not old enough to be out of high school.  He has a daisy tattooed underneath his left eye. And his eyes! Big, brown, soft glowing eyes. Innocent like a babies–yet full of wisdom and pain.  He is sitting next to his grandmother, who seems nervous–as if she was in a doctor’s waiting room anticipating bad news.  On the other side of this man-child is a young girl, about 10 years or so.  She is playing with a thick, black braid in her hair.  

My gaze turns back to the man-child’s face. He is just sitting there, chanting in his native language.  I start to notice that the other student’s in the room have become aware of this man-child and I. My teacher “spidey-senses” picks up and I realize I am going to lose what order I have of my class, unless I put an end to this disruption.  

I kneel down next to the man-child.  He is now taller than me sitting in his chair. My eyes lock with his eyes. Inseparable we were–for that brief moment in time. Oh my God, he is reading my soul! Chanting to the rhythm of every life I have ever lived. He is chanting the language of Light that is speaking the truth of who I am, who I ever was, and who I ever will be.  

Being exposed at my core, left me vulnerable–an emptiness I can’t explain.  Not wanting to stay in the void for very long, I stood up and looked at the grandmother sitting next to him.  “Please.” I somehow choke the words out. “I’m going to have to ask him to step outside while I continue class.”  Those words echoed in the hollow room. Was it the room that was hollow? Or perhaps it was my courage that was missing–a body full of fear.  

I now see myself watching the three of them leave the room.  Like wisps of leaves being blown by an unseen force, they exit the classroom not looking back.  I stand there now alone in this room.  No students. No mothers. No desks. Just me looking down at me, at the white board. Frozen in a dream state. I am waking up…Unfortunately.  

If this was your dream, how would you feel waking up from it? Oh, I have an idea of what it all means–for me. I can’t help but think, somehow I threw myself out of that classroom. A part of me, like the grandmother, really wanted to stay–but lacked hope that the outcome would be anything than what it was. Two innocent children, different from the rest, were singled out and labeled as a distraction.  

Why was the man-child, this Shaman in the room, a distraction to me? What is more important than acknowledging the beautiful ancestral gifts I have within? What is more important than looking into my own eyes and seeing the magnificent soul I possess? Deep down, I know the answer to that question. Yet have not the words nor the courage to say.

What can our dreams tell us about ourselves? Dreams are like the Netflix of the subconscious.  We can choose to just play the reruns of our daily lives–binge watching one marathon after another, until we wake up to what they are trying to teach us. Or we can learn from them and apply that to our waking life.  Socrates is quoted as saying “An unexamined life is not worth living.” I’d like to add “An examined life that is not lived, is not really a life at all.”

All Dogs go to Heaven (and cats, birds, reptiles, and beasts of the wild).

If you are a human that has had the opportunity to share living space (indoors or out) with an animal, you have been blessed to experience the true unconditional love of God! I am not being dramatic. A pet, whether it is canine, feline, avian, reptilian; has two legs, 4 legs, 8 legs, or no legs–our animals are connected to their humans just as much as humans are connected to them.

I get it, not everyone is an ”animal person”. And that is OKAY! But for those of us who have had the pleasure of wet nose kisses, falling asleep the the sound of purring next to your head, or have been nuzzled by a hungry horse looking for a treat, you get it! You get it when I say, losing a pet is one of the hardest things to go through in life.

If you have ever lost a pet, whether you were a child or an adult, I want you to think about that animal right now. Can you remember what the texture of their body felt like? Can you remember how they greeted you when they saw you after a long day at school or work? Can you remember their spirit, even just for a moment…

….If you could, part of you must believe that they live on with you every day. I know I do. I had to put my Dakota down two years ago this Spring. She was only 7 years old and got cancer. It happened fast, we found out why she had stopped eating and was breathing heavily, and within two days, it was over. We couldn’t see her suffer any longer. It hurt. We all cried. We buried her on my friend’s property (thanks Lisa and Rob), and tried to move forward.

Throughout my spiritual journey, I have come to believe and know that our animals stay with us forever. They are connected to us on the SPIRIT level in ways that we can’t fully understand. Some call it a ‘mystical connection’, others say they are here with us in the ‘Quantum field’. All I know is that sometimes, I can feel Dakota is with me. I have even reached down for her leash, like she was by my legs waiting for a walk.

So when a friend of mine had to help her beloved pooch (I’ll call her Kelly) transition recently, I wanted to comfort my friend and let her know that Kelly is still with her. I went into meditation to see if I could connect with Kelly (this was within 2 days of her transition so it was much easier).

Kelly did come through and we were given the gift from God to make this connection. Kelly told me that she had been with my friend in many lifetimes (about 60,000 years) and her sudden transition was her way of moving forward to be able to help my friend from beyond the Veil (the movie Coco pops into mind). Kelly’s spirit was needed on the other-side to help her human transition through some changes that were coming. Kelly also allowed me to see what her next incarnation was to be. Kelly was going to be a wild canine, somewhere in central North America, within the next 60-64 days. Kelly is choosing to be wild to help aide the planet with her Energy in that part of the world. But Kelly will remain with her human connection at about 80% (in addition to being a wild animal). That was all Kelly and God wanted me to know at this time.

Not trying to sound like a lunatic here, but I felt compelled to share this story. So many of us (including myself), have a connection to animals. I am told by SPIRIT there are certain humans, when they make their transition, help take care of animal spirits when they come home to rest and heal. I thought, that is so cool! I can’t wait to see how God and humans provide for animals on the other side!

So let me leave you with this message of benevolent energy. All of the creatures of Earth have a connection to humans, even if they are wild animals. From the tiny mosquito (God bless those, right?!) to the chicken that gives us eggs, to the little fur-baby that curls up on our bed at night–we are all connected to the Earth, to God, and to each other. And they will always be by our side to help us, guide us, and protect us.

When you take a moment to remember your animals, say “hello” to them. They are waiting to greet you, just like they always have been.

Peace.

The Sunrise–A Poem

Photographed at Smiths Falls, Ontario, Canada.

Her blonde hair greets me in the morning
Shimmering
As it falls over my rough shoulders

There is so much I want to say to her
Awestruck
Appreciation
Adulation
Nothing comes out
My voice, silence

As we embrace
The light and I
I am overun with ecstacy

Pure Essence of God’s love
Fills my heart
It lays over the whole Earth.

I give thanks
For God’s Light
I give thanks
For her

It’s Your Call

Just before lunch time, I got an email from my boss. “Be on this phone call at 4:00 pm”, it read. “Huh…?” I thought for a moment what it could be about, but then a student called out to me and I rushed over to see how I could help. For the rest of the day, I worked in my classroom assisting students, checking grades, and pondering what the phone call would be.

Soon, I discovered I was not the only one to be on this conference call. There would be others. Six it turned out. Four teachers and staff, our immediate supervisor, and the Head of School. I left work early to start my hour commute home. I wanted to be in the comfort of my home and sweatpants to make this call, in case it was to be bad news. When I got home and changed, I told my husband, “I think I’m going to be fired.”

“What?!” he said to me as he glanced around his computer screen in his home office. “I think I’m going to be fired.” I replied rather impatiently. “Why would they fire you? You are great at your job. You just got a promotion and a bonus a few months ago.”

I had no response.

Four o’ clock came. I called into the conference line. I recognized the voices on the phone. They were my coworkers, my friends. You could feel the tension. We were all waiting, wondering, hoping for the best.

“I’m sorry to have to tell you all this.” Said the voice.

Here it comes…

“There has been a reduction in force, or RIF. You are being released from your duties here.”

Being released…

With those two words, my mind started to fill up with questions and uncertainties. “What if I don’t want to be released from my duties? I love my job. What about my family’s health insurance? What about our bills? What about my students? They will be left without a teacher, a mentor, a coach? How could this happen? How could you promote me, then fire me? Fire US!?”

None of those questions came out of my mouth on the phone call. The words, concerns, and fears just jumbled around in my head like a load of wet laundry in the dryer. Turning, turning, turning until I was a hot mess.

“It will be alright.” was my husband’s mantra. My darling husband, the bread winner and self-employed software engineer never understood why I would want to work for any company. Always a business builder and entrepreneur–he didn’t quite get why I bought into the fake security of large conglomerates. “Health insurance for a family of 8…” was usually my answer to that.

The next day I was on a plane to Northern Virginia for a work presentation. I was told I couldn’t present at corporate headquarters because I was no longer an employee. Ironically, I was to present on the teacher’s future in our company. How funny life is! The trip was already reimbursed and it couldn’t be canceled. I went anyways, but for vacation.

The retreat to Virginia was cathartic. I did nothing but journal, sleep, feel sorry for myself, cry, journal some more, hiked in the woods, took long salt baths, spent money while I had it (aka, retail therapy) and convinced myself that it really was going to be alright. After a barrage of well wishes, and “I’m so sorry”-ies on FaceBook, Twitter, and Instagram, I realized I had a choice to make. I had to choose which path I wanted to take.

Pathways of Consciousness–that is what this whole blog is about. Knowing that the path we choose is perfect for us. There might be something we need to learn as we go down the darker path to face our fears. There might be something we need to do for ourselves, as we choose the path of self-love and self-acceptance. There might be something we need to do for others, telling our story gives others the opportunity to show compassion and empathy. There is no perfect way. Just YOUR way, YOUR path, YOUR journey.

So what path shall I choose? I’d like to think I am on the path of least resistance. The path I am on can get pretty dark, honestly. Fear and worry block out the light and I can barely see the beauty around me. Some days, the path is bright. I can intuitively see my future lies ahead. I eagerly anticipate what is around the next bend.

More often then not, I have stopped to rest. When I rest on the path, I am again at a fork in the road. I can choose any of the paths around me. My feelings help me point the way. What do I choose? Dark or Light; Shadows or Sunshine; Clouds or Rainbows; Fear or Forgiveness; Anger or Compassion; or a mixture of everything?

Each minute that passes, each day that goes by I make a choice. It feels very good to have options–and none of them are wrong, because they are all mine.

Choose unity over separatism

I’d like to talk about separatism. Separatism is the way of it some would say.  It is everywhere.  For example, Coke vs. Pepsi—you know you have a preference! Coke drinkers say their soft drink is the best.  Those that drink Pepsi would tell you, they are wrong. Pepsi has the better flavor.  Separatism plays out in politics too.  The Reds, the Blues, the Greens, the Whites, the Us and Thems.  Each holding strong to its own separate opinion of why they are the better choice. But times are changing…

As a teacher, I work with children (ages 12-18) that see the separatism and want nothing to do with it.  The particular children that I teach are homeless, couch-surfers (meaning they sleep at different locations—often on people’s couches each day or each week), they are in group homes, foster care, or living in shelters.  Some of these children are undocumented minors, Autistic, were forced into sexual trafficking, are HIV positive.  All of these children have different stories, different backgrounds, different cultures, but they do have one thing in common.  They were rejected by society—seen by the majority of adults as the outcasts; the ones that were rejected and sometimes beaten by their parents; then the child turns to society for help and comfort, only to get chased away because they don’t have a birth certificate for this country, or they have a disease, or they are gay. They spend their childhood—seen as separate by everyone else, their peers, their government, even their religion.

Christians, we call ourselves that because we are the followers of the Christ.  If we examine the man that we know as Jesus, if we examine the Christ with the historical and biblical knowledge that we process, we can see that Jesus ministered to the outcasts of his society.  He touched them, He broke bread with them, He called forth the little children to him—admonishing those that would keep the youth from feeling his loving embrace.  Jesus was not about separatism, not about politics, not concerned about what others may think of him if he were to show kindness and compassion to an unclean human being. Jesus was about Love.  Jesus spoke about the unconditional Love of the Creator. God as a loving God, full of Grace, compassion, and Mercy.  Jesus was a Unifying Force. Not once, not ever—up until that very moment when He took his final breath—did He ever build a wall. As a Christian, that is the Christ I must follow.

I’d like to tell you a story, a parable, a metaphor if you will…

Imagine for a moment a grand room; with 4, 5, maybe 6 pillars all in a circle. On top of these pillars is a great weight that each of them has a part in holding up.  Metaphorically, imagine that each of these pillars is a major religion of the world. What if these pillars started acting as the religions had in the past, out of the belief in separatism? What if those pillars started to argue with one another about which one is the best?  Who is the cleanest? Whose God is the ultimate God? Soon the pillars hated one another.  Trying to knock the other ones down, wanting to kill other pillars in the name of their own God. This is separatism.  This is all that the pillars knew.

Now imagine for a moment something different.  Imagine if those pillars, all the different religions of the World, stood tall holding up the weight in their own unique way.  Knowing that there is room on this planet for each of them.  One pillar could look across the circle and see another pillar with respect and acknowledge that other pillar’s unique perspective and purpose.  Knowing that some humans may want to choose that particular pillar, and other humans may choose another.  Not unlike someone choosing their favorite soft drink. Never judging free choice, nor letting the choice of others diminish themselves or what they believe in.  Imagine, the end of separatism. The youth of this planet imagine it.  Imagine Unity.  So what is the weight that all the pillars are holding? What if I told you it was World Peace?

And to this we pray…

Oh gracious and glorious God.  Creator of the heavens, the earth and all it’s beautiful creatures, including every human being.  You are the God of Love.  You are the God that gave us the example of Christ—who showed compassion to all—even the outcasts, the orphans, the widows, the tax-collectors, the rich and the poor.  Remind us that we are not separate from you, Lord.  Remind us that we are not separate from one another.

Oh Loving Father, bestow your Grace and compassion on all of your children. Help us strengthen and serve our communities, empower the poor, nourish the hungry, love the homeless, comfort the distraught, and help us to always follow Jesus Christ and his ministry of Unity.

All of this is prayed in the one name of the Creator, the Created, and the sustainer. Amen.