May this month further awaken our ability to recognize, receive and honor giving in all her forms. 

When Giving Is All We Have by Alberto-rios
One river gives
Its journey to the next.
We give because someone gave to us.
We give because nobody gave to us.
We give because giving has changed us.
We give because giving could have changed us.
We have been better for it,
We have been wounded by it--
Giving has many faces: It is loud and quiet,
Big, though small, diamond in wood-nails.
Its story is old, the plot worn and the pages too,
But we read this book, anyway, over and again:
Giving is, first and every time, hand to hand,
Mine to yours, yours to mine.
You gave me blue and I gave you yellow.
Together we are simple green. You gave me
What you did not have, and I gave you
What I had to give—together, we made
Something greater from the difference.

 

Parker Palmer argues in Let Your Life Speak: Listening to the Voice of Vocation," for the inner fulfillment that results from engaging in "work" that is our deepest truth and calling.  I think Gibran captures this truth beautifully, expressing the love which can be in "labor," and how it can foster intimacy with self and life...how each being has a place of value and contribution to Life through their work-and the unfolding of Life work.

"You work that you may keep pace with the earth and the soul of the earth.
For to be idle is to become a stranger unto the season, and to step out of life's
procession, that marches in majesty and
proud submission towards the infinite.
When you work, you are a flute through whose heart the whispering of the hours turns to music.  
Which of you would be a reed, dumb and silent, when all things sing together in unison?
Always you have been told that work is a curse and labor a misfortune.
But I say to you that when you work, you fulfill a part of earth's furthest dream,
assigned to you when that dream was born,
And in keeping yourself with labour, you are in truth loving life, 
And to love life through labour is to be intimate with life's inmost secret."

"Develop interest in life as you see it; in people, things, literature, music-
the world is so rich, simply throbbing with rich treasures, beautiful souls and interesting people.
Forget yourself." Henry Miller

I think the "self" Miller talks about is dissolved and forgotten when we have moments of ONEness with the grandeur of all that is. 

​

IIn the LA Times today, there's a wonderful op-ed by Joy Horowitz "Let Us Now Praise Teachers."  It got me thinking about the teachers in my life, so many, found in expected and unexpected places and ways.

My parents were my greatest teachers.  My mom taught me love and simplicity, the inner joy she received from caring and loving others so deeply unconditionally.  My father fascinated me because he was a very difficult man in many ways, but philosophical, a great story teller, funny,  and instilled this sense that "nothing is impossible!" They passed when I was fairly young-in my thirties-and there's not a day that goes by that I don't think of them in some way.  They were my number one teachers of heart (mostly mom) and mind (dad).   

I remember other great teachers in formal education, including Madame Matta, my French teacher who would pinch my ear and say, "Nadia, you give me headache" (I gave her a bottle of Tylenol to help).  There was also Mrs. French, an English teacher in high school.  Some days during lunch, I would listen to her stories about her family, mostly her husband.  There were so many college profs, graduate committee members who inspired, encouraged and supported my intellectual pursuits, especially Dr. Ibrahim, Dr. Fox, Dr. Knutsen-Martin.

AND, the informal teachers of my life that I have encountered in some way include relationships of all sorts (family, friends, clients, colleagues) historical and present-day people that I do not know personally but learn about from the books I get to read, the podcasters I get to listen to, the groups I engage in and the stories of others.  Nature, herself, is another teacher.  

Then, there is the most profound, intimate and steadfast teacher that is always with me. We sit with each other in silence each morning.  She sometimes reveals to me what I need to see; she often comforts me; she brings me closer and in deeper connection to myself and others.  When we're not sitting formally in our carved-out space, she shows up for me throughout the day in intuitions, flow experiences, moments of greater awareness and presence.   How grateful I am for this teacher, too!

"Where there is no vision, the people perish"  Proverbs 29

As we approach the Fourth of July, it's interesting to think about our country-and the larger world-developments, stagnations and in some areas what appear to be a devolution in thoughts, actions and society.

A vision (and enactment) of wisdom that holds and heals, that inspires and uplifts, that supports the multifarious nature of life and welcomes generous listening across the differences is what I hope for. It's sometimes so difficult to consider what might be wise now, and maybe not so wise in the future.  What are the implications of the policies we advocate for or against?

As I sit in deep gratitude to my "old world" immigrant parents for coming to this country, I seek humility and wisdom to discern how best to envision and support a new, "new world" for our country and beings of our world, wherever they are.

As we get wildly curious and compassionate about the nature of our being, other creatures in all their forms, and the universe with its multiple possibilities-the known and unknown -we're invited to settle into a space of Beauty that holds all and learns trust.

​I Go Among Trees by Wendell Berry
I go among trees and sit still.
All my stirring becomes quiet
around me like circles on water.
My tasks lie in their places
where I left them, asleep like cattle.
Then what is afraid of me comes
and lives a while in my sight.
What it fears in me leaves me,
and the fear of me leaves it.
It sings, and I hear its song.
Then what I am afraid of comes.
I live for a while in its sight.
What I fear in it leaves it,
and the fear of it leaves me.
It sings, and I hear its song.
After days of labor,
mute in my consternations,
I hear my song at last,
and I sing it. As we sing,
the day turns, the trees move.

Being with, being still, wherever you are is often exactly what nourishes

​“We cannot escape fear.  We can only transform it into a companion that accompanies us on all our exciting adventures…” Susan Jeffers
 
I love the idea of fear being transformed into a “companion” of sorts.  Allowing her to join us in moments we share an unpopular idea in a group, take a step in the direction of a goal, say “I love you” for the first time, build the business one hopes for, and many other moments of life where there’s some uncertainty or fear.  Allowing the companion to be with us, we begin to transform fear into one of the most beautiful virtues: courage.  
 
How might courage be calling forth to you today? 

Wild Geese by Mary Oliver
"You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees 
for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.                         
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting--
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things."

You are free...Connect to nature, beauty...Love what you love...You belong.

Becoming aware and experiencing what the heart is feeling is quite a journey-lifelong for sure-and a blessing when the movement from awareness to experience is held with care, gentleness and openness to what is.  
 
Our hearts encompass the totality of our lives, and depending on our level of attunement, it also holds the experiences of others, other life forms, even abstract ideas that may settle into our awareness and shape experience.  
 
When the fragments of our broken hearts feel more acute, even the slightest extension of self-compassion practices (hand on heart; gentle words; cupping of the face, for example) can allow the feelings to be felt more tenderly, with nurturance, and maybe even love.  This movement is central to the healing of our hearts, our trauma work, our bodies-emotional and physical.  
 
The wholeness of heart sees the pain, holds her and also experiences how delicate, precious and beautiful so many things are.