My Latest Lesson in Entrepreneurship

It was the little one, maybe four years old— jumping up and down waving a piece of green construction—who caught my eye first.  I was driving home from a shady path next to a brook where I'd taken my beat-the heat walk, knowing it is expected to top 90 degrees today.

Slowing down, I glanced in the direction of where the enthusiastic girl pointed: a table on which sat a large blue pitcher and behind which sat her older sister—selling lemonade.  I pulled over then walked towards their table in the shade, a fair distance back from the road—not where a marketing expert might have suggested they place it for the most traffic. 

"How did you know this was just what I needed?" I thanked, exchanging my quarter for a cup of outdoor temperature lemonade.  I sipped it there for a few moments, delighted to be in their energy field. 

"Look a truck!" a little boy, also holding a green paper, shouted excitedly.

"A truck!  A truck!" his little sister repeated jumping up and down, waving her sign.

I was so moved by their sense of possibility.  Every vehicle coming down our relatively unbusy road represented the possibility of someone wanting lemonade and stopping.  I remained long enough to watch the truck drive by.  Instead of lamenting—I didn't even hear a sigh—the young crew turned its attention to "A blue car!  See that blue car!"  

All I could feel coming from these four children was the pure unconditional joy of being there—not diminished by sales being slow, by trucks and blue (or whatever color) cars passing them by

I suspect their mama has nurtured and protected their hope—her children's Yes.  Even very young children can become intimate with deep disappointment and start to cap their joy and unconditional faith in life. I did not sense that shadow over this bunch.

I drove away with just a bit of lemonade left in my blue plastic cup, but filled with the joy of possibility, for which I was thirstier than I realized.  

Long time friendships with deep roots in the heart are treasure. Tonight, hours sitting on the porch talking deep and wide with a friend of 25 years (in this lifetime and probably many more years over many lifetimes). We have journeyed through many seasons, parted ways, reunited, parted--winding, braided paths. Now we land again in Love, recognizing again, with more veils lifted, a companion soul.

There is a species of moth able to detect a mate's aroma at a distance roughly the equivalent of that between New York and Boston.  

Amazing, the perfection and intricacies of this remarkable Creation of which we are each a part.

No small thing: Shelter.

There's a big old soft sofa that was meant for the living room but couldn't make it through the narrow farmhouse doors even with doors lifted off their hinges and framing dismantled. So that big sofa stayed out on the narrow screened porch.

Tonight like the past two, I am bedding down here, not wanting to distance myself from the soft rains and the chanting of the tree frogs. A roof over my head. A comforter to wrap myself in. Pure water to drink. Quiet. Safety. The night's beauty. And to top it off, the magical luminescence of lightening bugs. A plethora of blessing.

I wish safe shelter for all. Clean air. Good water. Hunger appeased. Love.

About Callings

From "Callings," by Gregg Levoy:
"...Nikos Kazantzakis, author of "Zorba the Greek," described an incident in which he came upon a cocoon cradled in the bark of an olive tree just as the butterfly was making a hole and attempting to emerge. Impatient for results, he bent over it and warmed it under his breath, by which he succeeded in speeding up the process. The butterfly, however, emerged prematurely, its wings hopelessly crumpled and stuck to its own body, which needed the sun's patient warmth, not the man's impertinent breath, to transform it..."

I pray for liberation from the Egypt of my deluded thoughts and grasping mind.
I pray for liberation from the Egypt of my mistaken ego. 
I pray for liberation into the expanse of TRUE SELF KNOWLEDGE, which is naturally accompanied by self love. 
I invite the experience of who I really am. 
I pray for the peace and joy of self-love that births me into true, abiding, flowing love of all.

Amen.
Heart of mine, source of my prayer and its destination, hear and grant this prayer.

Guides, angels, teachers, ascended masters, lead me home.
Please. Thank you. I love you.

When "outer" incidents reflect and offer lessons about the inner life, I am grateful. Some times, I am also quite surprised by how creatively messages are delivered. Here's an example:

For three days straight a robin has been returning to my sky blue Toyota and leaving abundant (less than pleasant) evidence of its presence. I have shooed the robin, cleaned the driver side door, mirror and window of bird droppings, even went to a carwash--so covered was the car--only to have the robin return and make its mark(s). 

I live in a town of long time farmers. Yesterday at the landfill, I asked an old farmer if he had any experience with this sort of behavior, wondering if he would look at me dubiously like I was imagining the whole thing.  Instead he smiled and said: "He's fighting with himself."

My turn to look at home dubiously: "Fighting with himself?" I replied, not sure I had heard him right.

"Yep, he sees himself in the mirror and doesn't know it's him. He's fighting himself thinking it's a different bird."

Now back to small miracles. The minute the farmer explained, I knew there was a reflection in this of something going on within me. 

I have been fighting myself for a few weeks now. Scared by what I think I see in the mirror, I have been resisting. I have gotten riled, ruffled my feathers, and felt cornered by illusion mistaken for truth.  Without getting into content for now: suffice it to say that I have been making a mental fuss about what I imagine I am seeing. I have been fighting a projected "enemy," in the form of (imagined) unwanted circumstances.  My resistance has been making a mess. I clean it up with meditation and then before I know it, I am perched staring into that mirror afraid of what I see.  

So now to contemplate my options. Not in terms of what to do about "the enemy," but rather how to see the truth of who i am clearly. 

This below from Women Food and God by Geneen Roth: "When I am willing to question and therefore feel whatever is there--terror, hatred, anger--with curiosity, the feelings relax, because they are met with kindness and openness instead of resistance and rejection..."

"Recurrent negative feelings--those that loop in the same cycles again and again without changing--are unmet knots of our past that get frozen in time for the precise reason that they were not met with kindness or acceptance."

"Can you imagine how you life would have been different if each time you were feeling sad or angry as a kid an adult said to you, 'Come here, sweetheart, tell me all about it.' If when you were overcome with grief at your best friend's rejection, someone said to you, 'Oh darling, tell me more. Tell me where you feel those feelings. Tell me how your belly feels, your chest. I want to know every little thing. I'm here to listen to you, hold you, be with you.'"

"All any feeling wants is to be welcomed with tenderness. It wants room to unfold. It wants to relax and tell it's story. It wants to dissolve like a thousand writhing snakes that with a flick of kindness become harmless strands of rope."

I'll be back any minute now

I have not posted for many months as I have been completing my historical novel, The Tremble of Love. I am eager to return to posting...  Will be back SOON.  With good news, too.