“How are you” my yoga teacher asked last night as I arrived for class. She knows of a particular challenge I have been having recently with my left wrist. “Fine” I responded “Except I am still dealing with my wrist”. She quipped “Not dealing: healing”.
What a difference a letter makes! From “d” to “h”: the moment she said “healing”, I had a mental shift from seeing my wrist as a problem which I had to solve, to seeing it as already in the process of healing and being whole. I saw, and continue to see, my wrist as perfect. There was nothing to deal with, just healing to accept.
So often we look at our problems and believe that we must deal with them. In a state of dealing, we focus on the issue and believe that the solution is up to us. Of course, what we focus on, we inevitably attract more of. So, it is no wonder that we are constantly having to deal with whatever we consider we are dealing with. “Dealing” thoughts will inevitably create dealing experiences. When I am dealing with my wrist, my wrist complies by constantly presenting me with a problem (pain) for me to deal with.
When I am in a state of healing, it is a totally different paradigm. Now I am focused on wholeness and health. And my wrist responds with less (or no) pain and discomfort, which has been my experience during and since the yoga class.
Our words are never “just semantics” – they are powerful expressions of our mental state, and determinants of our individual reality. Being observant and aware of our words is a way to become aware of our thoughts and therefore, the true cause of our experiences. Once we are present to our thoughts, we are in a position to change them, and thus change our experiences.
Today, I am healing rather than dealing – not just my wrist, but my entire life!
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Ann
Today is Ann’s birthday. We have been friends since we met in kindergarten at 3 years old – almost 50 years ago! She was my first friend, and has remained a dear and treasured sister through the years.
Ann and I played our way through childhood – climbing trees, exploring gullies, gorging on the mangoes, tamarinds and plums that bore profusely in our yards, rearing puppies, riding horses. My memories are of being outside all the time – I cannot conjure a memory of Ann inside a house. Her free spirit, the bane of her mother, soared, and I and my sister soared with her. There are few childhood memories without Ann. We attended the same school and lived in the same neighbourhood. It was total, unbounded joy when Ann came to live two doors from us. Then, life became an endless spell of being at one or the other’s homes or somewhere in between.
Our paths diverged in our teens – she started motherhood early, while I took the academic path. Years passed – many when we did not see each other at all. Our mothers became fast friends, and we were kept current on each other’s lives through them. “I saw Auntie Mo today and she told me that Ann …” my mother would say, and that was enough to make me know that all was well with her. Yet all of this matters not. For when Ann and I meet, rarely as human time goes, we are immediately ensconced in our cocoon of friendship. It is the same love and acceptance of each other as came forth when we connected in kindergarten as three year olds. There is total acceptance of each other. We accept the busy-ness of each other’s lives, the different paths we each have taken. We also accept how much we love each other, our differences, our similarities, our uniqueness.
At my mother’s 90th birthday celebration when she acknowledged Enid, her friend of almost 80 years, I whispered to Ann “That’s us!” I know that we are forever friends, always an integral part of each other’s lives, and of who we are today.
Would that all our relationships are like this – unconditional love and acceptance, no demands, no recriminations, joy on meeting, joy in memories and gratitude for having each other in our lives! Free and laughing friendship!
Ann and I played our way through childhood – climbing trees, exploring gullies, gorging on the mangoes, tamarinds and plums that bore profusely in our yards, rearing puppies, riding horses. My memories are of being outside all the time – I cannot conjure a memory of Ann inside a house. Her free spirit, the bane of her mother, soared, and I and my sister soared with her. There are few childhood memories without Ann. We attended the same school and lived in the same neighbourhood. It was total, unbounded joy when Ann came to live two doors from us. Then, life became an endless spell of being at one or the other’s homes or somewhere in between.
Our paths diverged in our teens – she started motherhood early, while I took the academic path. Years passed – many when we did not see each other at all. Our mothers became fast friends, and we were kept current on each other’s lives through them. “I saw Auntie Mo today and she told me that Ann …” my mother would say, and that was enough to make me know that all was well with her. Yet all of this matters not. For when Ann and I meet, rarely as human time goes, we are immediately ensconced in our cocoon of friendship. It is the same love and acceptance of each other as came forth when we connected in kindergarten as three year olds. There is total acceptance of each other. We accept the busy-ness of each other’s lives, the different paths we each have taken. We also accept how much we love each other, our differences, our similarities, our uniqueness.
At my mother’s 90th birthday celebration when she acknowledged Enid, her friend of almost 80 years, I whispered to Ann “That’s us!” I know that we are forever friends, always an integral part of each other’s lives, and of who we are today.
Would that all our relationships are like this – unconditional love and acceptance, no demands, no recriminations, joy on meeting, joy in memories and gratitude for having each other in our lives! Free and laughing friendship!
Wednesday, April 16, 2008
Melange
I was present last night to the most delightful dining experience. I am in Trinidad and my son Marc who now lives there, and I were meeting for dinner. As Marc drove through the streets of Port-of Spain, I asked “Where are we going?” “I don’t know” he responded. Yet he drove with a sense of certainty as if he knew exactly where he was headed. We made our way along Ariapita Avenue, or “restaurant row” as I call it, in recognition of the myriad of dining establishments that have sprung up there in recent years, reflecting the buoyancy of the Trinidad economy.
Marc pointed to two restaurants - an Italian and one called “Melange”. As we neared, trying to decide between the two, a parking space right in front of Melange magically appeared as if by divine decree. The Universe was very, very clear about where we were to dine! And that was the beginning.
We were greeted at the entrance by stately Mario, who took extra care to ensure that we were seated to our total comfort and satisfaction. Then Gillian emerged. “Is it a special occasion?” she asked. Marc and I responded in unison that indeed it was – a mother/son reunion after not seeing each other for 3 months. And having declared it a special occasion, it indeed was so.
The menu reflected the name of the restaurant – an extensive melange of cuisines with a range of choices for every possible culinary habit, each of which Gillian passionately detailed. My meal was divine – from the fluffy spinach patties and melt-in-the-mouth buttery garlic bread, on to the smooth lobster and pumpkin bisque, then the rich, creamy penne pasta florentine, to the richly brewed espresso and sweet sherry at the end. Marc raved equally about his selections. The service left nothing to be desired – lovingly attentive yet unobtrusive, with frequent checks to make sure that everything was to our total satisfaction.
Moses, the owner and chef, emerged from the kitchen to greet us at the conclusion of our meal. A quiet, genteel man who obviously LOVES what he does. It shows – in the décor, the menu, the carefully chosen and well trained staff, the artistic presentation of every aspect of the meal. We joked with him – “Moses, leading his people out of bondage”. On reflection, we realised that we are indeed in bondage – the bondage of fast, mass produced junk food, of poor service, of work done without love. Kahlil Gibran wrote in The Prophet “Work is love made visible”. Moses, Gillian, Mario and their team made love visible in their work at Melange last night.
Marc pointed to two restaurants - an Italian and one called “Melange”. As we neared, trying to decide between the two, a parking space right in front of Melange magically appeared as if by divine decree. The Universe was very, very clear about where we were to dine! And that was the beginning.
We were greeted at the entrance by stately Mario, who took extra care to ensure that we were seated to our total comfort and satisfaction. Then Gillian emerged. “Is it a special occasion?” she asked. Marc and I responded in unison that indeed it was – a mother/son reunion after not seeing each other for 3 months. And having declared it a special occasion, it indeed was so.
The menu reflected the name of the restaurant – an extensive melange of cuisines with a range of choices for every possible culinary habit, each of which Gillian passionately detailed. My meal was divine – from the fluffy spinach patties and melt-in-the-mouth buttery garlic bread, on to the smooth lobster and pumpkin bisque, then the rich, creamy penne pasta florentine, to the richly brewed espresso and sweet sherry at the end. Marc raved equally about his selections. The service left nothing to be desired – lovingly attentive yet unobtrusive, with frequent checks to make sure that everything was to our total satisfaction.
Moses, the owner and chef, emerged from the kitchen to greet us at the conclusion of our meal. A quiet, genteel man who obviously LOVES what he does. It shows – in the décor, the menu, the carefully chosen and well trained staff, the artistic presentation of every aspect of the meal. We joked with him – “Moses, leading his people out of bondage”. On reflection, we realised that we are indeed in bondage – the bondage of fast, mass produced junk food, of poor service, of work done without love. Kahlil Gibran wrote in The Prophet “Work is love made visible”. Moses, Gillian, Mario and their team made love visible in their work at Melange last night.
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