Notes from the Woods

Several years ago, I began my online writing career with a little website called The Magical Mirror Machine.

It was a continuation of a paper newsletter of the same name that I sent to people who signed up for it at The Mind’s Eye, a metaphysical bookstore and art gallery I owned at the time.

The premise of The Magical Mirror Machine is that the world reflects back to us exactly who we are.

I remembered it this week when a bout of introspection got me to thinking about the way that we often criticize in others the very shortcomings that we’re most blind to in ourselves.

If we paid attention to what the Magical Mirror was showing us, we’d have a good idea where we could use a bit of tidying up ourselves.

Try it out. The next time you catch yourself criticizing somebody, think about what you want them to be that you believe they’re not being. Then ask yourself in what ways you are guilty of the same thing.

It can take a little digging. If you’re nagging your roommate because he always leaves his socks on the floor, the Mirror probably isn’t saying that you should be neater yourself. (Although that might be the message. Are you always leaving globs of toothpaste in the bathroom sink?)

Instead, the Mirror is probably seeing through your complaint about the socks to a deeper issue.

It could be saying, for instance, that you wish your roommate would be more appreciative of the work you do to keep your shared environment clean and tidy. In other words, you want more appreciation for your contributions to the household.

Hmmm. And just how appreciative are you of his contributions? When’s the last time you sincerely and specifically expressed your thanks for all he does?

The way the Mirror works is that what you put out, it reflects back. If you want to get back something different, try putting it out. If you want to be listened to, listen more. If you want more affection, give more of it.

Remember to look at the beauty that the Mirror shows you as well.

When you’re keenly interested in something, the Mirror is showing you one of your strengths. When you’re enjoying making something, it’s reflecting your creativity. When you notice how kind people are, it’s reflecting your own kindness. When you’re laughing, it’s showing you what you enjoy.

And it’s these kinds of messages, the positive ones, that tell you what enriches your life.

Notice when the world is mirroring your best traits, and cultivate those.

Learn what makes you happy, what touches your heart, what makes you feel strong, and capable, and confident, and make a point of doing more of those things.

We always get farther by cultivating our strengths than by trying to fix our weaknesses. And once you know what your strengths are, you can draw on them to guide you the next time the world mirrors a place that needs a little spiffing up.

Wishing you a week of brilliant reflections!

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by Med Ahabchane from Pixabay}

Here in Western Pennsylvania, as in much of the US, we’re in a deep freeze. I’m sending my thoughts and prayers for warmth and safety to all who are without power, who have sustained loss, and to all who are confronting another onslaught of severe weather.

Our day-long blizzard here started just before last Sunday morning arrived. For much of the day I could barely see trees that were no more than 20 feet away.

Winter can be daunting. It brings out both the best and the worst in us—our courage and ingenuity, our love for adventure, our will to be helpful to others, and our general orneriness.

To stay on the positive side of things, do what you can to take care of yourself: Eat real food instead of snacking on junk; keep yourself hydrated; balance being in motion with being at rest, balance work with play. Then do what you can to lift the spirits of those around you.

If you’re stuck indoors for long periods of time, find things to keep yourself busy. Challenge yourself to see how long you can stay away from your screens. Pull out a neglected hobby and work on it. Clean out a drawer or closet. Organize your book shelves. Revamp your budget. Put on some music and sing along or dance. Make entries in your gratitude journal. Play with your kids or your pets.

The main thing is to accept complete responsibility for your mood. You’re the one who assigns meaning to your circumstances. You get to choose how to respond to them.

 If you find yourself falling into the orneries, pay attention to what you’re telling yourself. Changing your self-talk can change everything.

Be kind to you. You matter.

Be kind to those around you, too. Everybody is under increased stress. It’s a great time to set an example, to spread some extra smiles, to look people in the eye so they know you really see them. Offer help where you can. Take time to listen.

Ask yourself, “How can I be my Best Self right now?” Then follow your best ideas.

Be the light. Get your shine on. Then watch how it reflects back to you.

I know that you already know all of this. But sometimes it helps to have a little reminder—whether you’re buried in snow or not.

In the meantime, know that I’m holding you in my thoughts, and wishing you comfort and clear skies. And so are thousands of other people.

Remember: This, too, shall pass.

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by Author}

Every now and then I like to grab a book at random from my shelves and set it somewhere that I can spontaneously pick it up and read a paragraph or two.

It was a piece of good fortune that the one I’d pulled out this week was Jon Kabat-Zinn’s Arriving at Your Own Door. Its subtitle is “105 Lessons in Mindfulness”.

It’s simply a wonderful little book. Each 5” x 5” page is one small lesson printed atop a gentle green design that looks like a veined leaf.

In Lesson One, mindfulness is described as “a way of befriending ourselves and our experience.” Then it goes on to say, “Of course, our experience is vast, and includes our own body, our mind, our heart, and the entire world.”

The remainder of the book simply guides you past the obstacles that stand between you and that friendly relationship with yourself and all that you experience.

I opened to Lesson 24 one day this week. It’s titled “Autopilot.” Oh yeah, I thought. Been there done that. Like over and over and over. Here’s the whole lesson:

“Paying attention is something we do so selectively and haphazardly that we often don’t see what is right in front of our eyes or even hear sounds that are being carried to us through the air and are clearly entering our ears. The same can be said for our other senses as well. Perhaps you’ve noticed.”

Noticed! Ha ha! Now that you mention it, I haven’t really noticed. But now that you did mention it, let me turn on my scanner and see what’s going on. So I did. And it soothed and delighted me.

Of course it’s not possible to stay there, paying attention to all the experiences that your senses and thoughts and emotions are providing to you. And if you decided that staying aware is some goal, that being mindful is a measure of achievement of some kind, you can get grumpy with yourself for forgetting to pay attention to what was hiding in the huge swaths of time that you forget.

But if you read on, you’ll come to Lesson 59, “Acceptance and Compassion,” where you’ll be reminded to be kind to yourself.

“Gentleness,” this lesson counsels, “is not a luxury, but a critical requirement for coming to our senses.”

Read that again; it’s important. What it’s reminding us is that we can’t be open to the gifts of our senses while we’re beating ourselves up or ranting about how things should be different than they are.

To learn to let go when you’re all riled up is no easy task. But catching yourself being riled up is a fine first step.

Sometimes, when you notice that being riled up is what’s going on, you might find that you can even laugh at yourself. The very act of noticing changes everything. That’s what it’s all about.

As I went through the week, the lessons unfolded, and I remembered to practice paying attention more and more.

I’m so glad that I did. Otherwise, I might have missed seeing the way the freshly fallen snow glistened in the sunlight or hearing the adorable greetings of the chickadees as I put out their breakfast of sunflower seeds.

I would have taken for granted the fragrance of frying bacon, or the warmth my furnace was providing. I wouldn’t have appreciated the way my car started despite the day’s cold, or how amazing it was that someone had invented windshield wipers, that engineers figured out exactly how to make them work.

I might have missed out on whole slices of wonder and gratitude for all the miracles happening around me. Every day. All the time.

So I’m wishing you a week where a little voice sometimes whispers to you, “Psst – Pay attention!”

Listen to it. You’ll be glad, too.

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by jrhilton3 from Pixabay}

The men were seated around the campfire at their hunting cabin, griping about the state of the world.

One of them turned to the oldest one among them and said, “So, Henry, if you were suddenly named King of the World, what would your first proclamation be?”

Henry stroked the left side of his mustache for a minute. Then he clenched both fists, raising them above his head and, drawing from the depths of his being, shouted, “STOP IT!”

The men sat stunned for a second, then erupted in a roar of laughter.

“I’ll drink to that!” Tim said, raising his beer in a toast. The other men followed his lead, trumpeting “Stop it!” at the starry night sky.

They grew silent for a while. Finally Dave said, “Just might work. Let’s make bumper stickers.”

The talk turned to funny bumper stickers and went down hill from there.

But Tim remembered Henry’s proclamation and shared it with me later.

 “Henry has a way of nailing things.” I said.

Can you imagine a voice booming all over the planet at the very same time with the command ”Stop it!” instantly translated into every listener’s own tongue? Who would dare to do anything other than obey!

And what would happen in that instant of global silence? In that moment when everyone was speechless and terribly aware?

Would people stand motionless, peering at the sky, waiting to see if the king would say more?

Would they burst into laughter? Reach for their loved ones? Their phones? Their guns?

Anything could happen.

Maybe another message would follow: “Now that I have your attention . . .”

Maybe it would point out that we have it in our power to see that our particular species is unique in this magnificent world and special, and that we had it in us to play well with each other regardless of anything that had gone on before.

Maybe it would lay out instructions for world peace. Maybe it would explain where things went wrong and why, and what we needed to do to fix it.

Right now there are those on this world who have some answers, teachers whose instructions echo Henry’s. Stop for awhile. Just stop, they say.

Take time to do nothing but breathe. Sit there until you run out of thoughts or learn to disregard them. Then listen for the promptings of your heart

Let it show you how you can open yourself to greater kindness toward others, greater appreciation for the gift of your own life. Hear it whisper how you can bring more peace and harmony to your personal corner of the world.

That’s where it starts. With each of us finding peace within ourselves and letting it direct us. Because until that booming voice shouts at us from the sky, it’s up to us.

Wishing you peace.

Warmly,
Susan

 ^{Image by Pete Linforth from Pixabay}

How lovely to begin the New Year with you! Let’s break a bottle of champagne across her bow and set sail, filled with a sense of adventure and wild, wonderful dreams.

Why not!

“Why not!” That’s a phrase I adopted a couple of years ago as my “word” of the year.

Instead of making resolutions, I choose a guiding word or phrase as my focus as the new year begins.

“Why Not!” served me very well. It prodded me to step outside my comfort zone and gave me a broadened openness to new experiences.

Last year, I chose the word “connection.”

Friends I hadn’t seen in years came back into my life, bonds with current friends deepened, and I found myself looking into the eyes of strangers and smiling.

It guided me to connect with myself more deeply, too, by helping me to remember to connect with my own heart.

I mention it simply to offer you the idea of choosing a word or phrase of your own to guide you through the coming year. It can be anything that you want more of in your life.

But that’s not what I really want to share with you today.

Instead, I want to share a line I heard in an old movie.

“My dad used to tell me,” the doctor in the movie said to his terminally ill patient, “that you don’t measure your life by the number of breaths you take, but by the number of moments that take your breath away.”

Those are the moments of impact, the ones that pull you right out of the ordinary and fill you with awe.

They’re moments of revelation, the ones that let you get in touch with magnificence, or beauty, or great calm, or compassion, or relief, or sudden understanding.

They’re little instances of the profound, overflowing with a sense of life’s mystery, poignancy and wonder.

They’re what I wish for you today, as we step into this New Year—moments that take your breath away. Look for them, and celebrate them when they come along.

Happy New Year, my friends. I look forward to sharing it with you. May it bring us all ever nearer to living as our best selves.

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by günter from Pixabay}

Well, here we are, sliding right into a brand new year.

“How do you feel about that?” I asked myself.

It turned into a long conversation. I mulled over a bunch of emotions that rose up as I contemplated the question. Excited. Hopeful. Indifferent. Open. Maybe, given the state of the world, a little scared.

“How do you want to feel about it?” myself said to me.

I finally decided that the idea of being open to it appealed to me the most. It felt like a shaky little openness. Kind of fragile. But still, I wanted to choose it above the others responses. I want to welcome every moment of life, whatever it holds.

So I say to myself that I definitely choose openness. And myself says back to me, “Prove it. Say ‘Bring It On! ‘”

I have to gulp first, and my voice barely comes out at all. But I say it. “Bring It on, New Year. Bring whatever you hold. And I will be open to it, and accept it with as much integrity and grace as I can muster.”

To my surprise, all of a sudden I flash back to a young friend who used to ride with me in my car. Lori would help gauge the traffic at intersections, and when a break would appear she would shout, “Go NOW! It’s your only chance!” I laugh picturing her flashing eyes and wind-blown hair.

But hers is a phrase worth remembering. Whatever you want to do or be, now is your only chance to do or be it.

Yesterday’s gone and tomorrow isn’t here yet. We can’t even be sure it’s going to come. Or that the next ten minutes will happen. Now truly is your only chance.

Even if you don’t do well what it is that you’re hoping to do, now is your only chance to do it, to be it. To practice it.

I like the fact that “practice” means both a regular exercise or rehearsal and a performance. We do something over and over, by intention, with the hope of mastering it.

So I will practice openness. It’s one of those things that it’s better to do clumsily than to do not at all. And the more I practice, the better I’ll get at it.

I thought I’d mention this idea of practicing and doing it now because even if you don’t make New Year’s resolutions or set goals (and few of us actually do), we all end up thinking about the things we’d like to be or do differently, with more focus, more art, more efficiency, greater commitment.

If we decide to keep these ideals top of mind, we’ll find opportunities to practice them everywhere. Go ahead. Try it and see. Pick something you want to achieve and make a full, conscious choice to keep it in mind. Then watch what the world does in response.

I hereby give you this virtual clone of my friend Lori shouting, “Go NOW! It’s your only chance!” Close your eyes and I bet you can hear her right now. See? Cool, hey? You’re welcome.

She’ll activate whenever the world presents you with opportunities to practice your practice of being who you want to be.

Just imagine what could happen! Ready for anything? If you are, prove it. Say right out loud: Bring It on!

Wishing you all that you hold to be good, beautiful and true for you, materializing day by day, by day, throughout the coming year.

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by Freepic.com}

“Are we all like this, Grandma?” the little girl asked.
“Like what, honey?” Grandma said.
“Bigger on the inside than we are on the outside?”

Isn’t that a wonderful story?

Such a profound observation for a child to make about herself, and to put so clearly into words!

Wait until she stumbles across the questions that come after that one! The mysteries know no end.

I don’t know about you, but every year when we slide into the holidays, my own sense of life’s mysteries deepens.

In the tradition I was raised in, we call this time Christmas. It goes by many names, and holds many myths and messages.

It’s a poignant time, filled with the whole range of human emotions, all swirled together and intensified somehow. And we all want to find, at the core of it, the Answer.

But even when we see the glow of its light, we cannot say its true name. It’s unspeakable. It’s too large to be contained.

And yet, here it is, churning with longing, in our very hearts, wanting nothing more than to pour something wondrous and beautiful out into the world.

And we do our best to let it, even though we’ve no idea how.

We give it all we’ve got. Our music, our arts, our celebrations and games, our fashions and feasts, our tokens of love for family and friends, for strangers.

Last year, I heard someone say, “Christmas happens whenever you let God love someone through you.”

Maybe Christmas happens anytime we let God love any of his creations through us.

Letting Christmas happen seems like a beautiful way to end the year – being aware and appreciative of all that we’ve been given, letting the love that’s the Source and the Center of all flow without ceasing through us into the world.

Let Christmas happen as you look around you right now, as your thoughts travel to your loved ones, to your friends, as you take in both the clamor and the peace of this moment in time. Appreciate what you have. Everything. Let God love every last sparkle of his creation through you.

And may the wonder of its mysteries fill your world, inside and out.

Merry Christmas!

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay}

A Little Song as December Unfolds

The anticipation,
the excitement,
a sudden snow.

The greetings exchanged
by smiling strangers,
and the gatherings
of family and friends.

The merriment, the romance,
the music, everywhere;
the charity and cheer.

The stream of memories,
the nostalgia.

The sharp absence of loved ones
and the sending of love to their hearts.

The rush and crush of preparations,
decorations, expectations.

A world of countless candles and twinkling lights,
of creches and Santas, snowmen, donkeys, angels, and kings.

The traditions and rituals,
the legends and the lore.

The choosing of costumes and styles.
The performances and pageants, the games, and the parades.
Charlie Brown’s Christmas.
              (Remember Linus, and the tree?)

The search for the Perfect Gift.
The finding of it.

The winter wonderland outside my window.
Logs crackling on the fire.
Contentment.
The taste of a thick, rich love.
Wishing the world was at peace.
Accepting it as it is.
Embracing it, as it is.
Embracing you.

And beneath it all, the flowing of the endless, silent song.
Beneath it all, the quiet song.

Warm wishes, my friends,
Susan

^{Photo by Author}