Barkly and Mitts: Who Will Lead the Pack?

Below is a short story without an ending. Read it and notice what your gut reaction is. What do you think happens next? There’s no right or wrong answer, but your first response is likely the most honest and the most instructive. Your response may reveal something about the lens through which you are processing life. Whether or not it provides any insight, have fun with it! The story:

Once upon a time there was a pack of dogs, purebreds and mutts, living together. The pack had just come through a difficult period. Their former alpha, a cocker spaniel named Georgie, had made a mess everywhere he went. For instance, he let his fellow purebreds eat almost all the food, leaving only scraps for the mutts in the pack. Unfortunately, the unmitigated gluttony of the purebreds caused a collapse in the food supply so that all the dogs suffered. To make matters worse, Georgie had taken on a pack of nasty Chows claiming they had hidden bones in their territory, which proved to be untrue.

Licking their wounds after the Chow episode, the pack decided to change leaders. The new alpha was Barkly, who was the first mutt ever to become pack leader. He reined in the purebreds' excesses and ended the ongoing spats with the Chows.  Barkly claimed that it took the work of the entire pack to secure food. Mutts served as scouts, pack protectors, puppy nurturers and territory markers, all of which were essential for the survival of the pack. Under Barkly's leadership the purebreds who led each hunt still got first dibs, but the rest of the pack got a greater share of the food. Because they were better nourished, the mutts became even more adept and committed to their pack duties. As a result, food became more prevalent for all the dogs. In fact, even though the purebreds were receiving a smaller percentage of the packs' GDP (Gathered Doggie Provisions), they actually ate more overall because the healthier pack was securing much more food.

While times were still hard, the future looked promising until...along came Mitts. Mitts was a pampered Pekingese, who nonetheless enjoyed instant status because he was a purebred. He started to complain about Barkly's leadership. True, the pack was getting healthier, but Mitts yiped that it was taking far longer than it should.

Mitts also howled at Barkly's idea that everyone in the pack should take turns licking a seriously injured dog's wounds in order to maintain the wellbeing of the whole pack. Mitts said it's a dog-eat-dog world, and each dog should tend to his own wounds. Mitts snipped at any starving, stray mutt who tried to join the pack, telling them to self-deport back to their own territory.

Above all, Mitts whimpered that Georgie's approach had been right all along: purebreds should be allowed to devour all the choice food and let everyone else beg for scraps. This was the natural order of things according to Mitts. Oddly, a number of mutts even began to believe Mitts' claim that they too would be better off if they let the purebreds do as they pleased.

Things came to a head. Mitts challenged Barkly for leadership of the pack. Mitts met secretly with the purebloods to line up their support, where he harrumphed that 47% of the pack were lazy, dim-witted mutts mooching off the feasts of hardworking purebreds.  In public, however, Mitts tried to woo everyone with his double-bark and platitudes about the pack's greatness. He even made a play for the support of female mutts by referring to his "binders full of bitches".

The day of reckoning has finally arrived. Barkly and Mitts face off surrounded by the rest of the pack. What happens next?

Cluck Like a Chicken

When I tell people I have just completed training to become a Certified Hypnotherapist, the most frequent question is, "Can you make me cluck like  a chicken?" My response is always, "Only if you want to." While all of us, on occasion, would be better off clucking than talking, it's only in my imagination that I have the power to compel animal banter against someone's will. When taking an honest look at myself and at my clients, I've come to the conclusion that the progress we seek is slow or elusive because we only scratch the surface. We set a new intention, say a few affirmations and take a step forward and assume all will be hunky dory.

Profound, lasting change, however, requires the cooperation of the subconscious mind, which is the reservoir of our memories, emotions, habits, dreams, and deep-seated beliefs. So, it occurred to me that the best way to help myself and others was to work more with the subconscious, which led me to hypnotherapy.

Hypnosis is a natural state of relaxation. We experience it when we get engrossed in a movie or just before we fall asleep or before we fully wake up. In hypnotherapy, the conscious, critical part of the mind relaxes so that the subconscious can receive positive suggestions to move toward a goal. The subconscious, however, has the ability to reject suggestions that are not in your best interest. Of course, clucking like a chicken might be just what you need!

The lovely thing about hypnotherapy is that it uses your own inner resources and wisdom to bring about healing and progress. There's no need for external authorities or an endless string of the latest self-help modalities to "fix you" because all the tools are already within. In that relaxed state of hypnosis, your richest gifts emerge and flourish to address whatever problems you are facing and to enhance whatever is already going well in your life.

Because it is focused on the subconscious, hypnotherapy has the potential to work much more quickly than traditional talk therapy. In fact, you can even learn to practice "self-hypnosis" as a way to promote wellbeing and energize your goals.

Here's a short primer on how to practice self-hypnosis:

• Stare at a spot on the ceiling.
• Breathe deeply into your abdomen and then up into your chest. With each exhale think "Relax" or "Let Go".
• When your eyes begin to fatigue, let them close down and return to normal breathing.
• From head to toe, imagine each part of your body relaxing. You might even think to yourself, "Eye muscles, relax. Jaw, relax..."
• When you get to the toes, imagine sending a wave of relaxation from the tip of your toes to the top of your head and back down.
• Envision yourself in an elevator or at the top of a staircase/escalator...or whatever is most comfortable for you. If you can't see it, imagine that you are seeing it. See the number 10 above the elevator doors or on the steps. Feel yourself slowly descending. Watch the numbers gradually descend as you descend. 10...9...8...With each descending number, you descend deeper into relaxation.
• When you reach number one, envision that the doors in front of you open into a relaxing place of your choosing. Let it be a sensory experience in which you take a few moments to enjoy what you see, hear, touch, smell or taste.
• In this space of your own relaxed creation, you can:
• Affirm whatever your goal is.
• Call on a wisdom figure (Jesus, your grandmother, the Buddha) with whom to dialog.
• Extend this good feeling to any part of your body that needs support.
• Meet the needs of some part of you that is stuck in the past.
• See yourself as having achieved your goal and sensing the energy and direction needed to get you there.
• Use this nourishing space within yourself in any creative way that seems appropriate. The possibilities are limitless!
• When you feel complete, pause for a moment of gratitude before leaving. Envision yourself ascending back up the stairs, escalator or elevator, this time with numbers ascending 1-10.
• Open your eyes, stretch and move on with your day.  The beauty of engaging your subconscious is that the work you've down will continue to unfold without you having to consciously cogitate on it all day. Move on with gratitude and pay attention to how your life evolves in the days ahead.

Whether or not you cluck like a chicken, you will find that scratching beneath the surface is what it takes to get all of us chickens to cross the road of growth and healing and get to the other side.

P.S. I am now offering one-on-one hypnotherapy sessions in San Rafael, California. Please read more about the hypnotherapy services I provide and contact me for a free consultation so we can discuss if it is a fit for you.

Also, join Kathleen Denison and me for a powerful day retreat in November focused on healing the most challenging relationship in your life. For more information and to register, check out the classes page.

Samsara

Samsara, which in Sanskrit means "continuous flow", refers to the repeating cycle of birth, life, death and rebirth. This cycle has been on my mind lately as the mothers of two friends have died in the past couple of weeks, and as this month marks the fourth anniversary of my own mother's passing. While I was sitting on our front porch and feeling the heaviness of so much death, a ruby-throated humming bird buzzed a few feet from my head, voraciously slurping sugar water. A wave of gratitude swept over me, and I felt lighter and freer in the presence of this magnificent creature. Midst the pain, there was also a beauty and perfection to the natural cycles.

A new movie, Samsara, celebrates this continuous flow of life and all its luscious diversity and unpalatable struggles.  With no words, only compelling images and music, the film cycles us through daily human experiences across the planet, eliciting compassion, joy, repulsion, curiosity, and above all, awe for the magnitude of human expression.

Here is the trailer for the film. Enjoy!

Samsara Trailer

If you would like to explore your own experience of "samsara" in a positive, safe, open environment, please join me for the new classes, private sessions and groups I am facilitating.

Facebook: My New Prayerbook

Facebook is becoming the face of the nation...and of much of the world. About 1 billion people are now active users, with half a billion posting each day. On the one hand, Facebook is a blessing. We can share parts of our lives with friends and loved ones around the world: a photo of an exuberant child enjoying a day with grandma,  the latest video of your dog at the park, or a picture of your latest culinary masterpiece that makes every reader's mouth water. I am grateful for the ability to stay so immediately connected with what is happening in the lives of people far and near.

And yet, there is a downside because Facebook is also an addictive ego trip consuming countless hours of our lives. I've been listen to my own internal dialog as I browse through posts. Here's some of what I hear within:

• Wow! Look at how many people liked my post...they like me, they really like me!
• Hmmmm, I wonder why no one commented on or shared my post? Did I say something offensive or was it just not that interesting?
• He needs a filter. That was way too much information.
• I'm doing or looking fantastic/pathetic in comparison to....
• I can't believe the ignorance of these people I've known since elementary school.

My internal chatter sounds like the din of a middle school cafeteria. My little ego wants recognition, approval, and to be proved right and superior. And Facebook is the perfect venue for my ego to play out its addictive games in pursuit of those pusillanimous yet very human drives.

This morning I brought my Facebook experience into my prayer/meditation time. I let go of all that was arising for me: my desire to be approved as evidenced by people liking and sharing my posts, my comparison of myself to others on Facebook, and my anger about what I perceive to be narrow-minded, closed-hearted posts from people I grew up with.

Over and over again, I acknowledged, owned up to, accepted and then released these ego trips into the divine spaciousness within. As I did a realization arose. Facebook had become my prayerbook. I then prayed for my loved ones and for those childhood friends whose posts had offended me. I prayed for our country and our world in light of both the beauty and the ignorance I had seen on Facebook. I prayed for my own beauty to be revealed and my own ignorance to be lifted. And then I let go; I let go of my needs, my self-righteousness, and of Facebook itself and experienced a deep peace, freedom and wholeness.

I intend to return to Facebook with a different posture. While I'll still share and read and like and post, I'll also use it as my book of prayers for all the faces behind those electronic posts. I'll use it as a mirror to reflect those patterns within myself that I will bring to my meditation and prayer time for healing and release. And, of course, I'll take it less seriously. After all, it's just an online middle school cafeteria. Might as well have some laughs, spend fewer minutes there, and move on.

Oh, and even though I know Facebook is just a glorified middle school cafeteria, I still hope you'll like and share my post. Everyone else is doing it.

P.S. Please join us for the new series of day retreats I'll be leading this fall, and/or spread the word to those you think might be interested. Details are on the Classes page. Thank you!

What is God? And Four Other Unanswerable Questions

Last week I went on a retreat to the New Camaldoli Heritage, which overlooks the Pacific Ocean and the heart-melting grandeur of the Big Sur coastline. In those days of quiet, I meditated on five questions. Below, for your consideration, are those questions and the responses (as opposed to "the answers") that came to me in prayer and meditation while in that glorious location. What is God? The very name is an inadequate misnomer for the Source from which all has come and which infuses every quark to galaxy cluster with an unfolding consciousness. That consciousness, "Is-ness", Ground of Being, Source beyond all naming, is what we call God because we don't know what else to call it. Even when Moses encounters the Holy in the burning bush and asks for the divine name, all Moses gets is an enigmatic wordplay (or smart ass response): "I AM THAT I AM". You can't shrink wrap the Source of All into a nicely wrapped concept, name, doctrine, or even a personality. Source is more than a person, more than a Presence, more than an Intelligence, yet is all that...and more.

What am I? I am a fractal of the Source from which everything springs. The stars in their incomprehensible vastness of eons and expanse down to the smallest subatomic particles and every possible permutation and parallel reality, all of it is of a Mind, a Christ Consciousness, an Unfolding Expression of a Reality beyond personality, beyond what we can understand but yet refer to as "God". I am of that mysterious stuff, and yet it is more than I am. I came from it, and I return to it, and I am never separate from it, and can never be other than it.

What is my purpose? To live what I am. To have the embodied, full-bore experience of myself in this skin with one eye on the experience of being alive from this perspective in my own individual skin, and the other eye on my Source that connects me to all other life. As a human, I have this glorious privilege of being "double-aware". My purpose includes living as my own unique reflection of that Essence, reflecting upon it, revering it in everything and everyone I encounter, surrendering to it, communing with it, and consciously aligning with it.

Why bother with spirituality (with being aware of this Source)?

• First of all, it’s in my DNA. Consciousness unfolds in increasing complexity, diversity and self-awareness. That's its nature, and I reflect that. To live this life authentically I align with this evolving Conscious that compels me forward, inward, and outward.
• Secondly, it’s more fun, interesting and sustainable than simply living an animalistic, ego-driven existence. The self-generated suffering dissipates when I let go of my separatist, egoist illusions of self-absorbed, needy, anxiety-prone myopia. I find all I externally strove for has already been given within. Operating from gratefulness (great fullness), I discover that my existence flows with greater lightness, joy, clarity, equanimity, compassion, hope, openness, confidence, courage, self-celebration, integrity, and cosmic humor. In other words, when I live from that space of “all is well” within me, nothing around me has the unfair expectation of making me well inside.
• Thirdly, the world needs it. Our self-destructive, consumption culture is a symptom of a lack of interiority, a lack of aligning inside with our own innate wholeness. Without a deep connection to something greater than our own egos, we need, consume and abuse everyone and everything to feel safe, approved, and in control, not realizing that what we do unto others inevitably affect us all. "Sin" is one name for this illusion of separation. Redemption is awakening to Source and then living that wholeness from the inside out in communion with Nature, in peace with each other, and as willing, conscious participants in the unfolding story. Less at war within ourselves, we war less with everyone and everything else.

What happens when we die? We return to Source, the same Source from which we came and which animated our every breath. Perhaps Source assimilates our experience and embodied learning and that energy goes into a new cycle of living, furthering Christ/Cosmic conscious and evolution.

Those were my reflections on those five unanswerable questions. What's bubbling up from your heart and mind?

P.S. Please join us for the new series of day retreats I'll be leading this fall, and/or spread the word to those you think might be interested. Details are on the Classes page.

Pet Alley

The Chasm Between Us by Scott Quinn

Each night

My partner and I plop into bed,

Pre-dreaming,

Ready for comfort in each other’s arms.

Such a blissful notion,

And a naïve one,

For we are not alone.

There arises between us

A chasm

A breach

An interloping space

That cannot be broached,

At least not with any lasting effect.

It begins with a bounce,

Then a poke,

Then a demanding look

As the Fox Terrier

Reclaims his daytime territory

From misguided humans

Who mistakenly believe it to be their sleeping nest.

Inserting himself horizontally in the bed

So that minimal space remains for

Either human,

He then allows them,

With both insistence and feigned apathy,

The right to stroke his fur

As payment for squatting down for the night.

Soon he is joined by his nemesis,

The mistress of the night,

Whose wide whiskers

And pitch black fur

Portend of dark omens.

With her inboard motor

At full throttle

She treads with deliberate pace

Across each human,

Kneading all soft tissue with

Her Siamese technique.

The Fox Terrier begrudgingly

Allows her admittance

While forbidding the Airedale,

Three times his size

Yet with only one-third the temper,

From entering the entering room.

With teeth bared from a narrow snout,

His alien grimace and growl

(The likes of which have not been seen

Since Sigourney Weaver saved humanity in space)

Cause all critters to flee except for the black cat,

Whose path he dare not cross.

And so,

They lay between us.

Twenty-five pounds of snoring dog,

Miraculously claiming over half the bed,

Until, with no assistance from His Majesty,

Who lies rigid like a wheelbarrow full of bricks,

He is turned vertically for the night.

And two feet away,

Our masseur also settles in for the night.

Two balls of fur

Set aside their enmity for a few hours

To share the bed

Nuzzled up against their human companions.

And thus,

A chasm

Between my partner and me,

A space known as “Pet Alley”.

There

Each night,

A miracle of Biblical proportions occurs

As the fox and the feline lay down together.

Seeing Ear to Ear

Are you a good listener? Sometimes we give the appearance of listening through our silence, but we are actually busy generating potential responses to the speaker. The result is that we are not really present with the other person but rather with our own internal commentary.  Understanding and authentic connection evaporate. The next time someone shares something of importance with you, try this simple practice:

• Allow the other person at least 5 minutes of uninterrupted time to speak.
• Hold silence and withhold commentary, questions and any effort to fix, advise, top, sympathize with or augment what is said. Simply be silent and listen.
• When the mind starts to generate the perfect response, let it go and return attention to what the person is saying in the present moment.
• Listen to what is going on beneath the actual words. Often there is a more honest communication going on just beneath the surface of the content that is spoken.
• When the person is complete (or when you've held your peace, truly silent peace, for at least 5 minutes), take a deep breath before responding. Give yourself a moment to integrate what has been said.
• Respond from a deeper place than the typical surface banalities. Speak with openness, clear honesty, appreciation, and an an intention for mutual understanding.

Since we are not used to holding silence while another person speaks, some find it more comfortable to practice this kind of deep listening during a walk. When you have honed your ability to hold silence, internally and externally, take the next step and ask a companion to join you in the experiment. Each person gets 5-10 minutes of uninterrupted time to speak followed by an open discussion. Holding silence for each other prepares the soil for a fertile conversation.

The experience of being deeply listened is unusual and can be a profound gift for the listener as well as the speaker. Poet John Fox wrote:

When someone deeply listens to you it is like holding out a dented cup you have had since childhood and watching it fill up with cold fresh water.

When it balances on the top of the rim When it overflows and touches your skin you are loved.

When someone deeply listens to you the room where you stay starts a new life and the place where you wrote your first poem begins to glow in your mind’s eye. It’s as if gold has been discovered.

When someone deeply listens to you your bare feet are on the earth and the beloved land that seemed distant is now at home within you.

"Eastwooding": Our Failure to Communicate

At last week's Republican National Convention, the most talked about speech did not dribble from the mouth of a politician. Actor/director Clint Eastwood stole the show during his bizarre dialog with an empty chair on which an invisible President Obama sat. Mr. Eastwood chided the transparent president for numerous perceived shortcomings, some of which were actually the work of his predecessor. The speech was but one in a string of over-the-top attacks bearing little resemblance to Mr. Obama or his policies. While there are legitimate gripes regarding the president's performance, his foes seem to focus their opposition on misleading or patently false information (e.g., cuts to Medicare, welfare reform, the "you didn't build that" misquote, or Paul Ryan blaming Obama for the closure of an auto plant that actually shut down while Bush was president). Why would Republicans resort to half-truths and bald-faced lies when so much factual economic data is in their favor? Jon Stewart said that Mr. Eastwood's rant at an empty-chair explains the Republicans' detached-from-reality behavior because there is obviously "a President Obama that only Republicans can see."

What can you see? When thinking of those with opposing political views, most of us resort to "Eastwooding", which is already becoming part of our everyday vocabulary. It is the act of spewing vitriolic venom against an absent foe. Raging monologues can be psychologically cathartic for an individual when done in private. Public "Eastwooding", however, epitomizes our immaturity as a nation. We don't see complex, often self-contradictory human beings; we see imaginary caricatures. We don't listen in order to understand; we pontificate. We don't converse and connect; we preach to the choir and rant at empty seats.

We can bludgeon our way to political victory, but lose our souls in the process and become the very ogres against whom we rail. Of course, the solution is not the opposite extreme in which we ignore crucial differences and play nice while the world spirals into self-destruction.

How can we be true both to our convictions and to our humanity? It is one of those questions for which the answer is not deduced but rather lived. One experimental notion is "transpartisanship", which seeks to find common ground beyond traditional parties and labels. You can read more about the movement: http://www.transpartisancenter.org/. 

On a personal level, we start by slowly stretching beyond our comfort zones. We expand our capacity for truth-telling while also keeping a compassionate, open presence. We speak up and stand up while refusing to become self-righteous or rigid. We choose to see those with opposing views as fellow, imperfect human beings with similar needs. If  we are willing to sit still long enough to get to know each other, we may even discover we share some basic values and goals around which consensus might gradually coalesce. That's uncomfortable. It's work. It's humbling. And it's a lot less fun than yelling at an empty chair. But it's what grownups and nations that have a future choose to do.

I've read rumors that Betty White might appear at the Democratic National Convention for an empty-chair row with Mitt Romney. Now that would be entertaining! Would she be more like Sue Ann Nivens or Rose Nylund? I do love our last living Golden Girl, and I continue to enjoy Clint Eastwood's films. Perhaps someday the two of them will transcend mere entertainment and sit down for an adult conversation: occupied chair facing occupied chair.

Mindful Photography #1

Recognizing the sacred within the ordinary is an essential skill for anyone who desires contentment and a vibrant life flowing with gratitude. One way to strengthen this ability is through the practice of “mindful photography”. Through the lens of a camera, we can observe and take informal snapshots of ordinary objects at home, at work, in nature, around the neighborhood, in fact, anywhere we go. Reflecting on the sense of presence, wonder, or connection that arises while taking and reviewing the photos can open us to a more mindful way of experiencing the world around us, whether or not we have a camera in hand. Here's a practice you can try with your camera or smartphone:

1. Pick up your camera or smartphone and wander around your neighborhood without any agenda other than to notice what draws your attention. It might be the contrast of one color next to another, the appealing lines of a building, or the reflection of a tree in a puddle of water. Whatever you notice, stop for a moment to see and appreciate it without internal commentary, labeling or comparison.
2. With your camera or smartphone take a photo of whatever captured your attention and only of  what captured your attention. In other words, make no effort to compose a perfect shot, rather make one or two attempts to capture in a photo the essence of what first appealed to you.
3. Move on and see what else you notice. The goal of the practice is to appreciate the endless variety of subjects that can nourish, bring happiness and hone your sense of  wonder for the world around you.

Please explore the photos on my website. I also invite you to view and share photos and comments on the Mindful Photography Forum I created on Flickr:http://www.flickr.com/groups/1732735@N21/

Lose Your Mind and Come to Your Senses

When you see the word "freedom", what comes to mind? Weekends? The Fourth of July? Never hearing a Michael Bolton song again? Freedom always has at least two aspects. We get free from something: old habits, an overbearing boss, pain, or a lousy cell phone contract. We also get free to do or be something: be happy, start a new business, or speak the truth fully.  Unless we channel our "freedom from" into a "freedom to become or do", our freedom is likely to be short-lived, either because our new found energy is taken captive by another draining situation or because we squander it on self-absorbed gratification, which becomes its own prison.

How do we get free and stay free? A good place to start is to take the advice of Fritz Perls, the founder of Gestalt Therapy:  "Lose your mind and come to your senses."  The controlling, critical aspect of the mind keeps us trapped in old patterns that rarely serve anyone, yet we continue to justify the status quo with any number of irrational rationalizations. What's needed is a trip back into our senses, our subconscious, our deep spirit, our inner light and our deep joy.

Whether we do this through nature, meditation, prayer, creating art, singing, yoga, or playing with dogs, the form is not as important as the benefit, which is liberation from our habitual thought patterns. When the old mental chatter simmers down, clarity emerges in which we see things as they really are and respond appropriately with grace and ease. We become fully alive.  Our hearts and minds open.  We freely give back all that we are, all that we have, and all that we do to Life, to God, to the common and highest good of all. We finally come to our senses.

Coming to our senses is more likely, fun, and enduring when we collaborate with others who share a common intention, supportive energy and wise feedback. If you would like to take a deeper dive into freedom, come join us for a series of day retreats this fall. The theme of the three retreat days is "Path to Freedom: Using Challenges to Revitalize Your Life". For more information, check out the page on Classes.

Fat Cat and the Kibble-Shaker

Below is a short story without an ending. Read it and notice what your gut reaction is. What do you think happens next? There’s no right or wrong answer, but your first response is likely the most honest and the most instructive. Your response may reveal something about the lens through which you are processing life. Whether or not it provides any insight, have fun with it! The story:

Once upon a time in Catlandia, there was a very rich tabby named Fat Cat. He had made his riches in Kitty City years ago and now lived high on the mouse in his kitty castle. How he had made his riches was somewhat of a mystery. He had more frozen mice and rats in his freezers than 1,000 cats could eat in nine lifetimes, but he always hissed when taxed two rodents a year by the Internal Ratting Service.

Catlandia was not without its problems. Over--mousing had led to a dangerous decline in the rodent population. The same was true of the fish population.

Once two intrepid reporters, Tiger and Hairball, began working for CMN, the Catlandia Mews Network. They reported on the impending food crisis and tried to keep tabs on Fat Cat's friends who ran the Cat Council. One day Tiger and Hairball decided to investigate how Fat Cat got so rich...and thus so fat. When Fat Cat caught a whiff of their plans, he put a stop to the whole endeavor by purchasing CMN. Tiger and Hairball were reassigned to covering stories about the lives of kitty celebrities. They never reported on anything of significance again.

One day an older cat named Shadow arrived. She had lived in Kitty City and knew how Fat Cat had become wealthy. Shadow wanted Tiger and Hairball to broadcast the truth, but they were preoccupied with the breakup of "TomCat", a famous kitty couple.

Shadow was born near a stream in Kitty City. There she frolicked all day, catching fish and rodents, just like her mother had taught her. One day Fat Cat arrived. He convinced the people of Kitty City that they could have more food with less effort if they paid him to use his new invention: The Kibble-Shaker. The Kibble-Shaker, though Fat Cat never revealed the full details of how it worked, essentially created underground explosions forcing rodents out of their holes and fish out of their streams. Sure enough, within a short period of time mice, rats and fish were popping up everywhere for easy catching. Fat Cat took his pay (mostly in frozen rodents) and left town.

Shortly afterwards, however, things went terribly wrong. Because the rodents were forced out of their holes before they could raise their young, there was no next generation of vermin to feed on. Even worse, the underground explosions had polluted the water. Not only did most of the fish die, but the cats had to travel great distances to find something to drink. When they tracked down Fat Cat, he claimed it was all a coincidence and that they couldn't prove The Kibble-Shaker had anything to do with their plight.

Shadow shared the story throughout Catlandia, but no one seemed interested.  Not only were they wrapped up in the "TomCat" drama, but they had also bought into the Cat Council's propaganda that the best way to keep safe and fed was to make sure Fat Cat kept as many of his frozen rodents as possible in the hope that a few tidbits would trickle down to feed the rest of the cats. If anyone held him accountable for past infractions, they feared they'd have even less food than their already declining supply.

One day Shadow happened upon a hidden structure just outside of Catlandia. A stealthy kitty if ever there was one, Shadow slinked around a corner and peeked inside to see Fat Cat and his friends eating a grand feast of Rat Souffle and Trout with a Mouse Reduction. She listened carefully as Fat Cat caterwalled to the clowder of cats: "Mewwwww..... Now that I have all those felines eating out of my paw, I can introduce my greatest invention. The Kibble-Shaker is coming to Catlandia!"

What happens next?

The Pecking Order: A Brief Followup to Chik-fil-A

In reading the flurry of online activity about Chik-fil-A's financial support of anti-gay marriage groups, I finally realized what's actually going on here beneath the veneer of Bible quotes and the first amendment. The voices of privilege, in this case evangelical straight folks, feel threatened when a group that does not have the same rights insists on equality. Fuming evangelicals say they are the ones who are being persecuted because of their beliefs. It dawned on me that the angry voice of privilege is really a voice of fear, fear because those not privileged are challenging the established pecking order and the sense of identity derived from it. Whether the oppressed are women, people of color, immigrants, the poor, people of other faiths, or the LGBT community, the response is fear disguised as anger.

I also realized that my role is not to fix or change anyone. My path is to keep my heart open and reflect the truth of my experience as given the Light to do so. In effect, I become a mirror.

Privilege when seeing its own prejudice in the mirror, complains that the mirror itself is a bigot. 

Chik-fil-A and the Palins: a Very Unhappy Meal

Today I saw a a photo on Facebook of Sarah and Todd Palin holding Chik-fil-A bags. They were exuberant, smiling ear to ear with Sarah giving her trademark "you betcha" thumbs up. When I saw that this picture received a large number of "likes", I decided to post the following reply on Facebook: I am saddened by the Palins' public and gleeful support of Chik-fil-A's all out effort to deny other taxpaying citizens the opportunity to enjoy the 1,000+ rights they enjoy as husband and wife. It's not asking for a "special right" when someone seeks the same rights you already have. Why would anyone jump for joy over denying someone else the same privileges they have? Bigotry? Let's hope not. It must ultimately stem from deeply held religious beliefs.  That's the most charitable reason I can imagine.

There are a few problems, however, with that explanation. First, marriage is a civil arrangement, not a religious one. Religions issue doctrinal statements, but states issues marriage licenses. That makes marriage a civil right. It's one thing to hold personal religious beliefs about any number of issues. It's quite another to make those beliefs into laws affecting everyone else. Prohibiting others from basic human experiences, like coming together in marriage with all the legal protections and benefits that it affords, is neither civil nor right.

For those who seek to legally prohibit gays and lesbians from getting married because they believe they are upholding the traditional, Biblical view of marriage (e.g., Chik-fil-A's president), I have to ask, which Biblical view of marriage are you thinking of? The view of innumerable churches who until a few decades ago used the Bible to prohibit interracial marriage? The Biblical patriarchs who had multiple wives?

For those who believe that the Bible should be read literally and that our nation's laws should reflect their interpretation, check out Deuteronomy 22:28-29:

"If a man happens to meet a virgin who is not pledged to be married and rapes her and they are discovered, he shall pay the girl's father 50 shekels of silver. He must marry the girl."

Is that the Biblical view of marriage (updating shekels for dollars, of course) that should be made into law? Why is that passage to be taken any less literally than the Leviticus verse so often used as the proof text that homosexuality is sinful?

And while you're looking through the first five books of the Bible, you'll find more of God's commands about marriage:

• Marry your brother's widow (Deuteronomy 25)
• Capital punishment for committing adultery with a neighbor's wife (Leviticus 20)
• Priests put a curse on a woman whose husband suspects her of adultery (Numbers 5)

You'll have a tough time finding many, if any, passages after Genesis 2 that reflect the so-called traditional view of marriage. Then there are the polygamist kings, including King David, "a man after God's own heart". (1 Samuel 13:14) God says that it was God who gave David his wives (plural). (2 Samuel 12:7,8). One begins to wonder if God is familiar with the "traditional definition" of marriage.

Some Christians say the commands in the "Old Testament" (a.k.a. the Hebrew Scriptures) no longer apply to them since Jesus came. If you hold to this perspective, for the sake of your own integrity, please never again use any passage from the Hebrew Scriptures (including stories about Adam and Eve or Sodom and Gomorrah) to justify legislation restricting the rights of lesbians and gays.

Jesus, while saying nothing about homosexuality, did insist that the only reason a married couple should be allowed to divorce is adultery (Matthew 19). Where is the outcry to repeal and replace the lax, "unbiblical"divorce laws in this country? Where is the picketing of divorce courts? If it's fair game to enforce one's perception of a Bible-based view of marriage on gay people, why is a Bible-based view of marriage (including divorce) not also enforced through law on straight people? Could it be thinly-veiled yet unconscious prejudice? What else would explain why good-hearted Christian folk try to impose their marriage standards on gay people but let their own demographic off the hook?

Hopefully, it's merely a lack of not yet taking the time to fully think through the implications of one's positions. I've certainly failed to do that myself many times and have to keep careful watch over my strongly-held opinions and beliefs, which so easily morph into something unhealthy and lacking any semblance of Christian compassion.

So, before cheering the Palins, please take a moment to consider the genesis of your own thoughts on this issue. While it may seem like an innocuous photo of a married couple holding Chik-fil-A bags, it actually is an attack, (hopefully on account of understandable ignorance) on the identity, relationships, legal equality before the law, and inherent worth of your fellow Americans. That is nothing to celebrate.

That was my posting on Facebook. I know I'm probably "preaching to the choir" by posting this on my blog. But every now and then a preacher needs to hear an "Amen"...or at least get a "like" on Facebook. 

Reflecting on the Colorado Shootings

Last week, a 24-year old, whose deranged motives are still unknown, killed 12 people and wounded 58 more. Truly, a horrific tragedy that naturally and appropriately breaks our hearts wide open. The most common response to last week's shootings in Colorado has been compassion and prayers for all those impacted by the massacre. Even removed by great distances, we feel sorrow and shock when tragedy strikes people we have never met. What I'm curious about is what moves us to compassion and what doesn't. The terrible violence in Aurora, Colorado pales in comparison to what people around the world experience on a daily basis. From Afghanistan to Mexico, from the Northern Caucasus to Sudan, each day brings new losses and grief. The violence in Syria has claimed over 19,000 lives including 2,752 in July alone (as of this past Sunday). Of those 2,752 killings, 1,933 were civilians. Or said another way, the average daily death toll is 131 people, and the overwhelming majority are civilians.

I realize that much violence occurring around the world stems from broad political, religious and economic roots and that what happened in Colorado was an isolated act perpetrated by a crazed science student.  But are they really that different? Is verbal or physical violence in the name of one's religion any less crazy? Is there anything sane about "preemptive wars" that create more enemies than they eliminate? Is it not equally mad when economic policies make the desperate poor even poorer so that a privileged few can live more comfortably?

The path to sanity requires that we take responsibility for starting to move the human race from fear-based violence to hope-based interaction. We, imperfectly and progressively, can move from a narrow, biologically-imbedded focus on "me, myself and I" to a primary concern for the interconnected, highest good of all. We can choose to be more than we have been. Why? Not only because it's our best hope of survival, but also because it's the compelling pull of evolution.

It's also the compelling pull of  the spiritual path. When asked "who is my neighbor?", that is, who counts as someone I should care about, Jesus told the story of a Samaritan, a despised foreigner, who took care of an injured Jew. You can substitute any individuals or groups at odds with each other, and the meaning is clear: no one is to be excluded from your concern.

What if we had as much compassion, prayer and outpouring of support for people in Syria and Sudan as we do for people in Colorado? Cultivating a more expansive concern for "my neighbor" awakens a felt connection like the world briefly experienced after 9/11 or like that experienced between a wounded Jew and a kind Samaritan.

I don't know how many future killings could be prevented by expanding our understanding of who counts as a neighbor. Perhaps in a world where more of us became our brother's keeper, caring intervention might reach a troubled young man before it's too late. I don't know. What I do know is that until we open our hearts to a wider segment of humanity,  nothing will change.

We can choose to be "like-hearted" even when we are not like-minded. When frightened or frustrated, instead of reaching for a gun we can reach for a sacred text, a deeper understanding, our highest aspirations, or another hand extended in potential friendship.

It's not magic. It's not impossible. It's a choice. A daily choice.

That Pig Can Fly

A few weeks ago we attended the Marin County Fair. It was fantastic fun. Chair decorating contests. Bee keepers. Rides. Carnival games. Alpacas and mules. Phenomenal fireworks. And, of course, what would a county fair be without pig races? At a pig race, each section of the audience is assigned a different little piggy for whom to cheer. On the race shown in the video below, each racer was named for a country music star. Our piggy, wearing #4 on a red cape, was named "Julio Hoglesias".  I hope it makes you snort and squeal with delight.

[vimeography id="1"]

The Frustrating Silence of God

God has really been irritating me lately. I need clear direction and answers for some important questions about work, career, and income. I've tried prayer, meditation, sitting in silence, journaling, nature walks, talking to friends, guided visualization....The absolute silence is galling. I appreciate lovely notions about "The Cloud of Unknowing", Mystery, and letting go of certainty over and over again. Great. Beautiful. . . Now how about some answers!

• Which option should I choose when pros and cons clash like hyper-partisans in Congress with no clear sign of what is for the highest good of myself, much less the rest of humanity?
• While I'm at it God, how about answering for drought, AIDS, and violence perpetrated in your name?
• For that matter, why not just lay out clearly the meaning and purpose of our existence in a way that can be understood and accepted by all cultures, races and religions?
• And above all, please explain the popularity of the Kardashians.

Of course, one possibility is that there is no God, and that I'm just talking to myself. Perhaps, at most, there might be some sort of evolutionary force moving the universe forward. But there are no answers to be found there, only an impersonal sense of participation in a grander story than my own. While that has a modern poetic vibe, it does nothing for my deep yearning to connect with Something alive and tangible. How can I find guidance or be intimate with an ineffable cloud of mystery that seems like a paler version of "The Force" as presented in Star Wars?

And herein lies the dilemma. I want the answers to my questions, and I would abhor any God who would tell me what to think and do. I've already experienced that fundamentalist version of the divine. It was toxic, soul-numbing and asphyxiating. Yet I want God to function like a Ouija board: answers appear, and I can either follow them wholeheartedly as genuine spiritual guidance, or I can laugh the whole thing off as a meaningless parlor game.

It feels like a spiritual version of teenage angst. I want an external source of wisdom ("Help me Obi Wan Kenobi!") to clearly say what life is about and what is the right thing to do, and I also want complete freedom to make up my own answers. ("Luminous beings are we. Not this crude matter. You must feel The Force around you." Yoda)

Irenaeus said that the glory of God is a human fully alive. Perhaps the divine, whatever it might be, is not so interested in giving me answers but in me growing up so that I know myself, connect with LIfe within and around me, and generate my own answers. In that creative process I think God also comes fully alive.

The Sweetness of Dogs

In memory of Jimmy (pictured with me), who was a sweet dog if ever there was one, I offer this poem that Mary Oliver wrote about her dog Percy. Jimmy left this world two weeks ago, but those of us who knew him carry his gentle sweetness in our hearts. Jimmy, you looked at each of us like we were your perfect moon, when, in truth, you were ours.

The Sweetness of Dogs

What do you say Percy? I am thinking

of sitting out on the sand to watch

the moon rise. Full moon.

So we go

And the moon rises, so beautiful it

makes me shudder, makes me think about

time and space, makes me take

measure of myself; one iota

pondering heaven. Thus we sit,

I thinking how grateful I am for the moon’s

perfect beauty and also, oh! how rich

it is to love the world. Percy, meanwhile,

leans against me and gazes up into

my face, as though I were

his perfect moon.

- by Mary Oliver in Evidence -

Paraprosdokian: It's a Dog Eat Dog World

A paraprosdokian is a figure of speech in which the second half of a sentence or phrase is unexpected. The surprise ending makes us reframe or reinterpret the first part. Examples:

"I've had a perfectly wonderful evening, but this wasn't it." Groucho Marx

"She looks as though she's been poured into her clothes, and forgot to say when." —P. G. Wodehouse

“Some people are like Slinkies … not really good for anything, but you can’t help smiling when you see one tumble down the stairs.”

“Some cause happiness wherever they go. Others whenever they go.”

These clever phrases tune our minds to welcome new perspectives. Rather than resist surprises, these terse bits of humor open us to embrace life’s unplanned possibilities.

Please share your own unexpected ending to the first half of the following phrase to create a paraprosdokian….

“It's a dog eat dog world….

A Bridge to Somewhere

The late Senator Ted (the Internet is a "series of tubes") Stevens once tried to push a bill through Congress that would have built a $398 million bridge in his home state of Alaska between the towns of Ketchikan (population 14,000) and Gravina Island (population 50) because the existing ferry service was considered inadequate. It became known as "The Bridge to Nowhere". Recently I listened to an Easter sermon by Dr. Jim Rigby in which he said that the Easter resurrection story only makes sense when we see ourselves as an evolutionary bridge between the life that came before us and the life that will come after and through us. In other words, the deeper message of Easter is that we are an evolutionary "bridge to somewhere".

A bridge is not the destination. My life goes into a tailspin faster than Herman Cain's presidential campaign when I forget this truth: The unfolding story of the universe is not about me. It is about the universe, about Life itself. If my molecules, my kindness, my work, my relationships in this brief lifetime bless some form of life beyond myself, then my body is, in a very real sense, resurrected.

A central failing of American Christianity (and of most spiritual practice in this country) is that we don't care very deeply about anyone or anything beyond ourselves. We talk about heaven and the afterlife but show little concern for those going through hell here and now. We get our inner bliss on by meditating, aligning chakras, and pretzeling our bodies like yogis until we become oblivious to the pain in dilapidated apartment complexes across town. We worship superstar spiritual teachers but lack the humility to learn from a wise African-American cleaning woman we see every day. Such a religion/spirituality will always be characterized by fearful, narcissistic grasping. It is a self-centered bridge to nowhere.

Whatever our beliefs are about the afterlife, we can experience a bridge of connection that spans our differences and links us with life everywhere. Such a universal connection would include:

• Placing our individual lives in the context of the ongoing story of Life itself. Otherwise, talk of the afterlife is simply a glorified ego trip.
• Revolutionary, evolutionary practices done individually and in supportive communities where we break the trance of myopic navel-gazing and get real with each other.
• A mindful awareness about how our daily choices affect the people we live and work with, cashiers and waiters that serve us, impoverished women in Latin America who make our clothes, children yet unborn in Asia, and species in the Pacific Ocean yet to emerge.

In this kind of spirituality, anxious grasping for the afterlife transforms into a conscious connection with the Spirit of LIfe here and now. The isolating hell of "me, myself and I" becomes a resurrection in which I find myself by losing myself in something grander than myself.  The tragedy of my finite existence becomes a celebration of my unique chapter in life's everlasting story. A bridge to nowhere becomes a bridge to somewhere.

Thank you for reading this post. If you would like to explore together (either online or in person) what a down to earth, LIfe-serving spirituality will look like in the 21st century, please provide your feedback and also sign up below for email notification of future posts. Let's get the conversation started. Thank you!

A Bird in the Hand

Monday night I went outside to water a few plants.  In the front yard under our redwood tree I noticed a small, gray, fuzzy blob. A baby Mourning Dove had fallen from its nest some twenty feet above. We had been watching the past few weeks as the devoted parents incubated the eggs and then as tiny beaks appeared in the nest. Monday night I looked up and saw the remains of a disintegrated nest. My partner Herb and I took the little squab inside and put him/her in some soft towels under which we had a heating blanket set on low. We decided to call our little visitor Francis. While I was tempted to become a foster parent and raise Francis myself, I realized that a wildlife rehabilitation center offered our friend a much better chance of survival. So the next morning, Francis and I went to Wildcare, a fantastic nonprofit that rehabilitates over 3,000 injured wild animals each year.

After one last look, I closed the shoe box and entrusted Francis to the compassionate woman at the desk. She took Francis into the animal hospital for a brief examination and then to a cozy incubator. She told me Francis would join a nest with other rescued baby doves, who are cared for by adult doves recuperating from various injuries. The adult doves will show Francis what it means to be a dove and how to survive in the wild. Meanwhile, parenting Francis and the other babies will speed the healing of the adults.

Tears came to my eyes as I considered this beautiful arrangement in which babies and wounded adults nurture each other. As I left, I was given a number with which I can track Francis' progress. Wildcare will also notify me when Francis is released back into the wild so that I can attend.

In caring for this avian infant, I felt so much tenderness, purpose and connection to Life that it became impossible to tell who was really helping whom.  Francis reminded me that every being, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant, in some way affects every other being on the planet.  Now I know just how much a bird in the hand is worth.