Category: Sunday Letters

I was out looking at the stars the other night, and once more I was filled with awe at the realization that our home is but one speck of rock circling one star amidst uncountable stars in one of an unknown number of galaxies. How small we are! And yet, how incredible our minds, to be able to grasp the immensity of it all, to compute the distances, to be capable of wonder and to marvel at its mysteries and order and beauty.

How can we be asleep to that? How can we take it all for granted? Why, when we’re gifted not only with intelligence but with the capacity to love, is our little world beset with such rancor and pain?

You know, there seems to be a trend afoot these days to pit us all against each other, to egg us into taking sides on every conceivable issue. Tensions and conflicts engulf our homes and work places, our neighborhoods and nations. And this, despite the fact that what the overwhelming majority of humans want is simply to get along with each other and to live our lives in harmony and peace.

None of us has the power, individually, to change the course of world events. But we can have an influence in our immediate corners of the world. That’s the place to start. From there, it evolves and spreads, of its own accord. It becomes the ripple that eventually turns the tide,

I heard a suggestion this week that I liked a lot. Instead of getting entrapped in the blame game, it said, focus on seeking solutions. Ask yourself what you can do to make things better and be willing to give your ideas a try.

Sometimes that can mean having to admit you were less than kind, or respectful, or honest. None of us is at our best all the time. We get tired, and crabby, and selfish. It’s part of being human to blame someone else for our lousy states of mind. But our ability to apologize is a part of being human, too.

Sometimes making things better means stretching beyond our comfort zones and trying on less-than-familiar behaviors—holding our tongues when we would normally confront, forgiving hurts, deciding to overlook other’s foibles instead of falling into irritation, looking for things to like in those whose opinions contrast with our own.

What can I do to make things better? That’s the solution-focused question. How can I create more harmony? More understanding? More beauty? More wholesomeness and health? What would be the kind thing to do? The loving thing? How can we work together to fix things?

“Be the peace you want to see in the world” the sage said. Every time you apply it, the world does indeed become a more peaceful place. One act, one person at a time.

Wishing you a week filled with beautiful solutions.

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by Rosy / Bad Homburg / Germany from Pixabay}

Have you ever heard the statement, “What you focus on expands”?  It’s a fact of life, and a good one to remember. 

A friend of mine reminded me about it in a recent blog post she wrote.  She had attended a conference where one of the speakers, a brain scientist, asked the audience, “How many neurons over a lifetime have you dedicated to worry?  Or to fear, or guilt, or limitation of any kind?”

She said his choice of the word “dedicate” really caught her attention.  And rightly so.  The more you repeat a thought, the more deeply you carve neural pathways for it in your brain.  And the deeper the pathway, the easier it is for your thoughts to flow along it.  You’re dedicating those neurons with every similar thought. “What you focus on expands.” 

When you create pathways of limitation, they become launching pads for a nefarious secondary force I once heard named “the zucchini god”—the one who instantly appears when you think a motivated thought and convinces you that you need a nap or a bag of potato chips first, the one who wants you spend your life being a squash.

The way to avoid making life easy for the zucchini god is to purposefully design the neural pathways you want to create—the ones that will lead you toward the actions that are aligned with your vision of who and how you want to be, what you want to accomplish and attain. 

And the way that you do that is by getting clear about what it is that you want.  That doesn’t mean you have to set huge goals or create lofty or long-range visions.  Your intention can be as short-range as a day, or even less.  But decide what is it you want and put it into words for yourself.  Ideally, write them down somewhere that you’ll throughout the day as a reminder.  That adds the fuel of attention to your intention.  And attention plus intention is the key.  It’s the magic formula. 

The more attention you give to your intention—even if you only read it or remember it—the more you’re building the neural pathways that your thoughts can travel to take you where you want to go.

When you catch yourself traveling down a pathway of limitation, throw a big bright “Detour” sign into the middle of it and turn your attention, your focus, to your intention.  Remind yourself what it will feel like to be and do the things you want to be and do: kinder, braver, more persistent, more in control, more creative, more appreciative, more in charge of your choices. 

Then take whatever action you can to move toward the object of your intention, even if it’s nothing more than squaring your shoulders, slowing your breathing to relax into the moment, and putting on a smile.

You can continue to grow deeper pathways of limitation, or focus your attention on moving on a trajectory toward your true desires.  

It’s like the old American Cherokee story about the two wolves. One evening an old Cherokee told his grandson about a battle that goes on inside people.

He said, “My son, the battle is between two wolves inside us all.

“One is Evil – It is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego.

“The other is Good – It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith.”

The grandson thought about it for a minute and then asked his grandfather: “Which wolf wins?”

The old Cherokee simply replied, “The one you feed.”

Decide to dedicate your neurons to the things that bring you joy and satisfaction.  Name your intentions, then feed them with all the attention you can muster. 

And may your good wolf win!

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by Andrea Bohl from Pixabay}

I’ve been digging in my collection of quotes again this week and found one from Harry Emerson Fosdick that made me stop and think. I like it when that happens, when a sentence or two makes me want to take stock and see how I can add more sizzle to my life.

Here’s Fosdick’s statement: “Rebellion against your handicaps gets you nowhere. Self-pity gets you nowhere. One must have the adventurous daring to accept oneself as a bundle of possibilities and undertake the most interesting game in the world – making the most of one’s best.”

It reminded me of a story I once read about a man who was legally blind, yet, by training himself to focus on the small amount of sight he had, he was able not only to navigate his ordinary world, but eventually to drive a car. He went on to develop a highly successful system to train people with infirmities of various kinds to transcend their difficulties by devoting their attention to whatever abilities they did have. He took that “most interesting game” and played it for all it was worth.

He looked for the possibilities and made the most of the tiny sliver of sight that was his best. Then he saw the possibility of showing others how to do the same and made the most of that, too.

Have you ever dared to think of yourself as a “bundle of possibilities?” What if you did? What possibilities would you find? If you were going to make a list of the things that you considered the best of you, what would you put on your list?

And once you had such a list, suppose you looked at it and asked yourself how you could make the most of these things. What if you let your imagination run wild and blocked out all the “yeah-but’s” that tried to sneak in? What if you opted to play the most interesting game and to imagine how you could make the most of your best?

What would that look like? What would you do? How would you be?

The mere act of imagining your best self opens you to broader, more possibility-laden thinking. That’s a proven fact. Spend 20 minutes describing your best self in writing and see how you feel.

But what if you were to take it beyond mere imagining? What if you decided to go all in and play this most interesting game for real, to focus on something you did well, or were ardently attracted to doing, and made the most of it?

You could start with just one thing, one possibility, one of your favorite things about you and express it 2% better today than yesterday, by intention, because you chose to play the game. Then tomorrow you could do it 2% better than today, and so on. And the thing that was one of the best things about you would get even better and better, and it would pull some of the other things that are good about you right up with it.

Imagine how interesting life would become! And all because you decided to play this, the most interesting game in the world.

Wishing you a week of intriguing discoveries and ideas!

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by InspiredImages from Pixabay}

I continued reading the “Sunday Letters” that I wrote back in 2015 and once again felt compelled to share with you the one that followed the letter I shared last week. Here it is:

First of all, let me share that my friend who broke his hip in the slip-on-the-ice fall last week is making great progress with his recovery and expects to return home this week. Thanks to all who sent him caring thoughts.

Because he’s had his bouts with clinical depression and often says, “Everything always goes wrong for me,” I’ve been grateful and relieved and very happy to hear the optimism in his voice and his anticipation of things he’ll be able to do for himself once he’s home.

There’s a creative power is positive expectation—especially when you learn to expect the best from yourself. I read a quote this week from an anonymous source that said, “When you become convinced that you can make a comeback from any adversity, then all of your creative forces will come to your aid.”

That’s more than a glib statement of positive philosophy. Our brains work hard to materialize proof of our beliefs for us, to find evidence for them. Wayne Dyer wrote a whole book about it called When You Believe It, You’ll See It.

From all the billions of bits of data that come to us from our sensory organs, our brains actively select out for our attention the ones that match what we hold to be true or that open doors or give clues about opportunities that we’re seeking.

It happens automatically, but you can speed the process along by asking Positive Affirmative Questions of your brain. Popularized as “afformations” by Noah St. John, PAQ’s generally begin with the word “Why” and then go on to state what you’re hoping to materialize in your experience. “Why am I feeling so confident today?” “Why am I healing so quickly?” “Why am I so creative today?” “Why am I so patient?”

The “why” part of the question sends your brain on a search to find answers for you. It can’t resist the challenge. Unlike ordinary affirmations, such as “I am so creative,” why-questions don’t give your brain a chance to argue with you or to dispute you. Instead, it begins to scour both its knowledge banks and incoming sensory data to bring you the proof you requested.

If your request is urgent, your brain will even go into a kind of hyperdrive to find answers. I’ll give you a personal example. I happened to drop a 20-pound log on my big toe last night. Hurt like the blazes. “Ow! Ow! Ow!” I yelled. But because I’d been thinking about this letter, I said to myself, “Why is my toe recovering so fast?” And even before I pulled off my sock to examine the damage, my brain said, “Because you put an ice pack on it right away.” And I did. Good thing, too; poor toe got smashed pretty well. But I do expect it to heal quickly, and I expect my brain to continue to giving me hints to help it along.

Creative anticipation is a powerful tool. It’s what’s behind the adage, “You get what you look for.” Look for the good, and give the process a boost with some Positive-Affirmative-Questions.

Now, why are you having such a fabulous week this week?

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by Image by Anja from Pixabay}

Every Saturday as go through my day, I notice my mind casting about in search of the focal point for the letter I’ll write to you in the evening. I call this mostly subconscious process, the working of “the boys in the back room.” They’re the guys that put all this together, point me where to go, slide messages under the door and into my awareness.

I’m often quite surprised at what it turns out that I say. But I trust the process.

Today, I was inspired to go through a stack of my “Sunday Letters” from way back in 2015. That’s nine years ago. I opened it to March and pulled out a letter dated the 8^th of that year.

The parallels to events currently unfolding in my personal world were, to say the least, an amazing synchronicity. But beyond that, it put into words what I’ve been wanting to say for a while now.

I immediately felt compelled to share it with you. It’s meant for somebody special. Who knows? Maybe that somebody is you.

Here it is:

When the Bough Breaks

It was a week of sad news and an unexpected challenge.

The challenge wasn’t all that bad, relatively speaking. The drain for my kitchen sink froze, breaking a seam between two pipes, and before the squishy sound of the carpet under my feet told me there was a problem, my entire sink floor was flooded and water had seeped under the old tile beneath the carpet. I’m not happy with the situation, of course. But it’s nothing that can’t be repaired.

Besides, I’ve learned to bolster myself in the face of life’s normal challenges by flexing my bicep Rosie-the-Riveter style and defiantly snarling, “Bring it on!” Works like magic.

Sad news is a little more difficult to handle. On Tuesday, an old friend of mine called to tell me he was in the hospital. He had slipped on a patch of ice, fallen, and broke his hip. His general life situation wasn’t all that great to begin with, and this is going to be a serious setback for him.

I have two other friends who are enduring difficult medical situations, too. It’s hard to watch those you care about suffer. It’s hard even to watch the suffering of strangers half a world away.

But pain and problems are a part of life, a part of all of our lives. It’s almost as if they’re a necessary part of being fully human. They test our courage and our ingenuity and resolve. They keep us humble. They give us a chance to think about what really matters in our lives. They break our patterns and shift our view of things. They remind us that we’re mortal.

Confronted with my friends’ difficulties, I remembered Tara Brach’s helpful words: “This is suffering. Everyone suffers. May I be kind.”

When you’re the one who is suffering, it helps to remember that you’re not alone. Pain is universal; it visits us all. Be kind to yourself.

When you’re a witness to pain, let kindness be your unfailing flag. Be there, with a loving heart, for family and friends who are enduring pain. Bring them your patience and your cheer, your encouragement and your faith in their strength. Be there to listen. Be there authentically, with your whole heart.

That goes for emotional and mental suffering as well as physical ailments and injuries. Hurt happens on a lot of levels.

And so does healing. And the very best medicine is love.

Wishing you a week of kindness – given and received.

Warmly,
Susan

Image from https://pixabay.com/users/publicdomainpictures-14/

Every year, I forget how deeply the beauty of winter trees touches me. Instead, I only remember how unpleasant I find the cold. But here I stand, in freshly fallen snow, in the midst of all these trees, bereft of their leaves now, and I’m caught in a spell of awe. I realize I don’t mind that the air is cold. And somewhere inside myself I quietly say, “I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

I say it to my spirit. “I’m sorry that I let what I labeled as discomfort eclipse the memory of the astonishing beauty of bare trees. And just look how the frost on this fallen leaf glistens in the morning’s pearly light!! “ Please forgive me,” I ask, “for overlooking such incredible gifts.”

Instantly, I feel a shower of bright, warm, unconditional acceptance wash around me. It tastes golden, like joy, and my face spreads in a smile. I am humbled by it, and I whisper, “Thank you; I love you.”

All this because of the forms of the trees, naked against the clouds, and the shimmer of light on this leaf. But beauty isn’t the only thing that evokes my appreciation. Sometimes encountering plain-spoken truth will do it. Sometimes it’s kindness in one of its myriad forms.

I happened to notice my copy of Letting Everything Become Your Teacher again yesterday. It’s been sitting on my coffee table for weeks, unopened. Seeing the title is often reminder enough. Everything brings the gift of fresh lessons.

For me, the lesson brought by February’s bare trees and frosted leaves is to be aware that not everything I label as unpleasant is so. In this case, I could see that cold was just a sensation. I could call it brisk or crisp as well as bitter or biting. Then, having reclassified it, I could let it go and see what else there was to see.

Remember the game I told you about where for five minutes you let yourself notice whether you‘re labeling things as either “pleasant” or “unpleasant?” (That’s all there is to it, in case you don’t recall it.) You just notice which way you’re judging things. Then you can turn the secret power-question on yourself, asking if your judgment about a particular aspect of yourself is true.

You know what you’ll find? You’ll find that it’s only a judgment, whether you currently agree with it or not. Realizing that’s the case is good because it opens you to options. It keeps you from overlooking things by slapping a judgment on them too soon. Things change. Our perception of things changes. The world truly is a kaleidoscopic place, you know. Try to see what’s in front of you with an open mind. Keep a good helping of openness handy. It will wake you up if you’ve fallen asleep. It will say “You think what?! Think again!”

You never know when what you thought was a barren February landscape was in fact a scene of stark beauty, alive and dancing. It could be. You never know.

Wishing you a week of newly renamed wonders,

Warmly,
Susan

Whenever I’m lucky enough to find myself walking behind an old couple holding hands, I feel my heart warm and my face smile. This is how I wish every Valentine’s story could end—fifty years down the road, having weathered it all, with a richer love than ever before.

It takes real commitment to make it happen. And it’s nice to see that some of us actually manage to do it.

If you’re in a love relationship, or hope to be, the key to making it last is appreciation. Did you know that?

Couples who stay together say five times as many positive statements to each other as negative ones. They find more reasons to praise and fewer to fault-find. They tell each other what they enjoy and respect and admire about each other. They thank each other for everyday acts of consideration.

If you’re not in a love relationship with someone, you can still benefit from putting the 5:1 rule into practice. It works in all kinds of relationships, and it even works for your relationship with yourself.

In fact, learning to appreciate yourself is one of the big keys to emotional and spiritual growth. A lot of us spend a lot of time beating ourselves up, pointing out to ourselves how we don’t measure up. My advice? Cut that out!

Kindness starts at home, and that means it starts with you being kind to you. Even to the parts of yourself that you don’t especially like. In fact, especially to those parts. They’re the parts that most need love if they’re ever going to heal. So you say to them, “Crabby part? I love you because you hold such high standards about the way things should be.” “Painful part? I love you because you’re crying so hard for my attention.” “Ugly part? I love your uniqueness, and the beauty of you that you don’t see, and the parts that you wish were different.”

Say “Hi, Sweetheart!’” to yourself in the mirror and mean it—because you are one, you know. Thank your fingers and toes and nose and knees for all they do for you. Take time as you tuck yourself in at night to appreciate all that you accomplished. Acknowledge the work you did, the things you enjoyed, the services you performed, and the kindnesses you bestowed. Thank yourself for your endurance and persistence. Thank yourself for your good intentions. Love the parts of you that were hurt or offended and comfort them; give them the understanding that they didn’t get anywhere else.

Commit to being your own best Valentine. And then pass the love along. I bet you five to one it will make your life sweeter and open the way to living happily ever after.

Warmly,
Susan

Image by Marzena P. from Pixabay

I ran across an article recently about the difference it makes in one’s career success to have a good natured personality. People who make other people feel good, it turns out, are not only well-liked, they tend to get compensated with higher earnings, regardless of their skill level. So keep flashing that great smile of yours, and do all those things you need to do keep yourself in tip-top shape. (You know–eat wholesome foods, drink enough water, get enough sleep and keep that body in motion.) You’re so much more fun to be around, after all, when you’re feeling really well.

But even if you’re feeling a bit dragged out, you can still lift others’ spirits. Practice looking someone right in the eyes and telling them something they did well that you noticed. Don’t simply compliment a trait like how nice they look or how smart or strong they are. Instead, specifically mention something that they did well, with efficiency, or thoughtfulness, with attention to detail, or with obvious effort or preparation, or with apparent ease or grace.

Practice on store clerks and waitresses, on your partner, on your kids. According to some recent research in positive psychology, this one skill generates strong positive emotions for both you and the person you noticed. It creates a feeling of genuine human bonding. We all like to be appreciated.

 Just looking someone in the eyes and giving them a sincere smile can lift their mood, too—and yours. When a sincere compliment about someone’s actions doesn’t come readily to mind, practice this as “Step One,” while you work on noticing things that others do well.

A second skill you can practice to increase your value to others is to take time to listen attentively; it’s a rare skill, and it makes other people feel that they’re real for you. In fact, philosopher and theologian Paul Tillich says listening is “the first duty of love.”

Humor and optimism, of course, are fabulous spirit-lifting tools. Keep ‘em tucked in your pocket all the time. They can bring instant perspective and relief to a huge range of situations. You don’t have to be a comedian, just learn to see the humor in everyday life. I’ve found it great fun, especially when it’s one of those days when everybody around you seems a bit crazy, to imagine you’re all characters in a sit-com. It keeps you from getting caught up in the fray, and when you’re lightened-up, it subtly impacts everybody around you. As for optimism, as I wrote a couple weeks ago, just hold yourself open to the possibility that everything may work out just fine.

Notice. Listen. Be of good cheer. That’s the formula. Give it a try. After all, as the poet W.H. Auden said, “We are here to do good to others.” Then he added, “What the others are here for, I don’t know.”

I have a feeling Mr. Auden was well-liked.

Wishing you a generous, spirit-boosting week!

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by CreativeMagic on Pixabay}

The week seems to have flown past, but I had a chance to relax over a cup of coffee this morning with my 80-some year old neighbor, Bob. He’s a colorful old codger who has worked as a farmer, mill electrician, and long-haul trucker. He’s a ham radio enthusiast and often tells me about flying his plane to Alaska one year to see if he could find a cousin’s grave..

He recently had a pacemaker installed and it’s taken him a few days to get his bearings. But today he was feeling great and was full of tales about his truck driving capabilities.

He told me about the time he asked Tom, the owner of a bridge painting company, why this big piece of equipment was sitting in the yard. “It’s too big to fit into the garage,” Tom told him. “Nobody can get it in.”

Bob looked at it and at the garage door, and back at the equipment. “Sure it can fit,” Bob said. “I’ll back it in there for you.” Tom said they had measured the thing. At its widest point, it was only two inches smaller than the door.

To everybody’s amazement, Bob hooked it up to his pick-up and backed it in, slick as a whistle. He grinned ear to ear as he told me the story, proud as he could be.

“Well,” I said, “You know what Henry Ford said, don’t you? ‘If you believe you can—or if you believe you can’t—you’re probably right.’”

Bob took that in and laughed, slapping his knees. “I never heard that one before! That’s pretty good.”

Have you ever accomplished something you weren’t quite sure you could do, but thought maybe you could if you tried? If you have, you understand Bob’s big grin. It’s a great feeling to have your faith in yourself validated, to stretch beyond what you know you can do into the untried and then succeed.

We all too often let fear of the unfamiliar get in our way. We worry about how we’ll look to others if we try something new and it doesn’t work out. But every effort is a learning experience; you gain knowledge about what works and what doesn’t. You expand your horizons. You build new skills; you learn how to work around limitations. Always, you can feel good about yourself for overcoming your doubt and hesitation, for trying something new.

And in most cases, if you really flub up, at least you have a good story to tell and, often, a chance to laugh at the mess you made of things.

We don’t often think of our daily challenges as requiring courage, but courage is exactly what you’re using when you dare to try something new. And as with any strength, you build it by using it. You gain confidence in yourself. You find yourself saying, “Sure I can!” or “I don’t know, but I’ll give it a try.” You start acting like “The Little Engine that Could,” chanting “I think I can; I think I can,” and making it all the way to the top of the big hill.

Thinking you can is the key. As old Henry Ford said, whether you believe that you can, or can’t, you’re probably right. The next time you’re facing a challenge, give it a try.

Wishing you a week brimming with confidence and success.

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by Miriam Müller from Pixabay}

We are, I found myself thinking, all wounded warriors struggling toward a Great Promise of some kind, feeling its pull in our hearts, the truth and reality of its call. We give it different names and have a wondrous assortment of interpretations of it. It doesn’t matter. It’s far larger than any of us understands and better than all of us together could imagine.

The fulfillment of that Great Promise feels so far away sometimes. But sometimes, more and more often, we get a sense that it’s just ahead. We expect to see it any minute now. We just have to make it through this one last stretch of tight darkness and there it will be, opening its welcome to us.

Meanwhile, there’s today. Based on past experience, we suppose it will go more or less as we expect it to go. It will have its usual rhythm of tasks and demands, its moments of rest and interruption, its flickers of of surprise and of appreciation, To have an ordinary day is a blessing you know.

A wise novelist whose name escapes me at the moment said we should greet every day as if it’s our first, or our last. Try one of those on for size. See how the world looks from there. I’ve been looking at them as if each one is my last, myself, cherishing the make-up of my Now. Nevertheless, especially when I’m lucky enough to be around infants, I let myself try to remember or imagine how the world looks when you see it for the very fist time.

But as I was saying, here we are, smack-dab in the middle of today, free to do with it as we choose. Thanks for choosing to spend some of your moments with me, by the way. That makes me smile. In exchange, I’ll tell you a story.

Dr. T was telling her colleague and friend Dr. P how frustrated she was that she hadn’t mastered this new skill she was working on. “And you started practicing this when?” he asked.

She said she had begun a week ago last Tuesday, and he smiled at her and said, “Maybe you’re exactly where someone should be who’s been practicing for less than two weeks.”

She got the point, and laughed. She immediately let go of the impossible expectation she had raised for herself.

We don’t get to our goals in the blink of an eye. They require us to hone our skills, to sharpen and polish them, to repeatedly practice doing the things that will move us nearer our target, over and over. That’s what a practice is. It’s building a routine with the aim of getting better and better at it all the time, giving it greater attention, getting more insight, expanding our understanding.

When you practice routinely, the distance to the goal doesn’t matter. The whole purpose of seeking mastery is to spur continuous improvement. All that matters is that today you will practice intentionally. No matter what you did yesterday or how many days have passed when you didn’t practice at all, or whether you think you’re any good at it or not, today you can decide to do your practicing.

At the end of his conversation with Dr. T, Dr. P said his grandmother once asked him how long he’d had his practice. “Over 25 years,” he told her.

“Well son,” she said, “You know, we’re always practicing.”

Nice that we get to choose what our practices will be, isn’t it?

As for me, I plan to continue being a Joy Warrior for a while. Feels worthwhile.

May all your practices bring you contentment and peace.

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by Alexa from Pixabay}