Regardless of how things may seem, regardless of confusion, conflict and pain, always there is that which is pure and simple and singing with joy, that which gives balance and the assurance of grace. Go about your day, then, with gladness. These blossoms are reminders that you are known and dearly loved.
One night this week I happened on an old interview with Neale David Walsch, author of the popular Conversations with God series. At the time of the interview, Walsch was just out with his fourth book, Awaken the Species, and he was talking about some of the main concepts it covers.
In case you’re not familiar with the Conversations series—or not even vaguely interested in reading what somebody says about God—you may find it intriguing that the first point the voice that Walsch identified as “God” had to make was, “You’ve got me all wrong.”
As Walsch pointed out in the interview, even if you’ve dismissed the idea of the existence of God entirely, if that sentence has even a smidgen of truth to it, it suggests that you may want to question what you do believe about the possibility and nature of a conscious, unimaginably vast and creative Supreme Being.
That suggestion—about questioning beliefs—prompted me to remember one of the most challenging and valuable assignments I was ever given in college. It was the final exam in a course called “American Thought and Language,” which covered significant (and often opposing) ideas that had arisen in the country from the time prior to the Revolution up to the present. The assignment was to write an essay entitled “I Believe,” in which we were to discuss a few of our personal beliefs and give our reasons for holding them.
Every now and then, I assign that essay to myself again, just to uncover the beliefs that are driving me now and to examine them. If you’re up for the challenge, I heartily recommend it. It’s very revealing.
But that’s not the main thought that I brought away from the Walsch interview. The idea that struck me most deeply was one Walsch shared when the host asked him what was the biggest piece of advice he could give people, based on his latest book. Walsch said he would tell people what he was told was the most important thing: “Your life isn’t about you. It has nothing to do with you. It’s about everyone whose life you touch and the way in which you touch it.”
My whole being breathed a sigh of awe over the profound beauty of that thought. Imagine what it would be like if each of us asked, “How can I help? What can I do to make your life easier, more comfortable, more peaceful, more pleasant?” What if we looked for ways we could give encouragement to each other? If we set out to make the environment a healthier more beautiful place? If we listened to each other more? If we looked more into each other’s eyes? If we looked for ways to ease another’s burden or to alleviate some of their stress? If we did our jobs knowing that they were contributing, in however small a way, to the well-being of others and took joy in that?
So that’s the thought I leave with you this week, the message that it’s all about every life you touch and how you touch it.
I wish you the insight to see what’s needed, and the generosity of spirit to give as only you can.
Beside the still waters, the wildflowers grow, one for each living being displaced by flood or drought or fire. Nodding in the rain, they whisper songs of comfort, the strains rising like prayers. The soil beneath your feet, they say, is home. And all the air is yours and the hours. And though we are far away and mere wildflowers, our essence flows to you to lend you strength and to assure you that hands will come to lift you, and hours will come to soothe.
One by one, the leaves decide. Who will go first? Who will hang on? Who will be the last to go? Already there were some who could not resist the chance to fly, to ride the wind, to be free of any restraint, to sail birdlike on the wings of air. Most waited, savoring the familiar view, savoring its changes. There was no right or wrong. Time would tell them when to fly. And time, the creek told them, has a way of doing things in exactly the right order.
Now come the golden days, mornings filled with fog, nights where cricket song floats through crisp, cool air. On the roads, yellow buses roll past once more with laughing children peering from their windows. Goldenrod fills the meadow; wild sunflowers line the creeks. In the fields, beans, corn, pumpkins and squash race toward their fruition. And the fragrance and feel of it all wakes us, and we turn the calendar’s page.
Let the nights grow longer. Still, we will hold the sun. Let the fierce winds blow and the rains fall. Usher in the cold. We will hold the sun. In memory of sweet summer, until our days are done, for the sake of your joy, we will shine on, beaming the glorious sun.
You never know when you set out what your journey will bring. Anything you can imagine is possible, and then some. It’s all a gift, you know, a chance for you to explore your choices, to decide who you will be, and to discover what you’re made of. Hold onto your hope and keep your faith, remembering that, regardless, light shines at the end of the road.
In days of sunshine and those of trial, whether by happenstance or choice, life sends us the gift of companions for our journey, spirits to walk beside us, to share our laughter and our tears, our stories and our silences. Some stay only for moments, bringing a word, a look, a smile. Some come, then go, then reappear. Some walk beside us for long miles, for lifetimes, and maybe more. Love, after all, never dies. And it is Love that sends them, these companions, that each of us may know that we are never truly alone.
Here’s where the deer lie, sheltered by sycamores, cooled by the green leaves of tall wild sunflowers, the sun filtering down to kiss their pelts with warmth. This is the place they dream of in winter, the place they sing of in lullabies to newborn fawns in early spring when they lick their soft hair and promise them tomorrows filled with flowers and sunshine.
A couple decades ago, I began my online writing career with a now-defunct site 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 that I ran 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 course-correction 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 often seeing through your surface complaint 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 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.
But don’t forget to look at the merit that the Mirror shows you as well. When you’re keenly interested in something, the Mirror is hinting at one of your strengths. When you’re enjoying making something, it’s reflecting your creativity and skills. 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 will tell you what will truly enrich your life. Notice when the Mirror is reflecting 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 truly are, you can draw on them to guide you the next time the Mirror shows you a place that needs a little polishing.