A New Earth

Happy Earth Day everyone. It feels like a day of celebration, so I'm putting aside the blog I've been writing to post something a little more, well, earthy.

A few years ago I was blown away by Eckhart Tolle's A New Earth. I had been listening to his CD's for awhile, but must have been ready for the messages in the book because it was one of those defining moments where life around me changed dramatically. Literally; there was lots of flailing about looking for a way to take the next tour bus to Timbuktu because I wanted off of the one I was riding. I liked the way things were just fine, thank you...but of course that's not how it all played out.

If you look around, change is in the air for many of us, and not just on the nightly news. I see it in your blogs, and with my silence you can bet that I'm knee deep in it as well. My changes are not as exciting as fellow blogger Linda Lou  who is leaving her life in Las Vegas heading east (roadtripping with her sister!) for an undetermined while to be with family, or fellow blogger Heather  who left the country entirely to raise her kids in a beautiful part of Guatemala, or even my raw food mentors Matt and Angela who settled down in Vilcabamba (don't you just love the way that rolls off the tongue?) Ecuador to build a home and rural life.

No, my change is much more boring, haircut aside. Still, things are shaking up (and not just our old Maytag washer which gave up the ghost in a dramatic fanfare of shaking and screeching, nor the 4.9 earthquake that rumbled our sleepy western state). What's fascinating is that change can be viewed as hostile--and finding yourself mired in fear; or supportive and friendly--and embraced with love and acceptance. I tend to waffle between the two perspectives, hence my experience of the changing reality does too. As a recovering hermit, change in my life usually involves a lot of kicking and screaming only to get there and look back wondering what the heck was I smoking, and feeling grateful for the new (and usually improved) scenery.

As you know, I've been blogging shamelessly about Geneen Roth's new book, Women, Food and God. Because of her insights, I'm re-discovering Eckhart Tolle's Power of Now as if I'd never read it before. It's resonating so deeply I'm left wondering where I was when I read it before (probably in a self-imposed hell). Insight after insight takes me into parts I hadn't seen before. It's like what my old church leaders used to say about scripture reading--that every time you read them again, you see them with new eyes (only without the brainwashing; more like a brain cleansing, or purging, of beliefs).

I get so excited about Eckhart's passages that I can't sit still. Which kind of defeats the purpose of what he talks about, because stillness is a big part of the inner discovery. Still, I'm finding that it's a process, this practice of evolving as a human, being. And because of Geneen's emphasis on kindness, I understand that the perceived "delay" really is okay; just something to notice. Then too this new spring energy is so invigorating it's hard to sit still when you want to bounce around outside waving your arms like a drunken kangaroo.

In the Power of Now Eckhart shares his insights about spirituality without taking himself too seriously--a major turn-on. He's no Jon Stewart, but he's humbly funny, which is perfect because I can no longer listen to folks who take themselves too seriously; it either cracks me up or tunes me out. So his teachings are a lovely breath of fresh air, leaving me ecstatic to practice what he teaches.



All of which bring me back to the creation of a New Earth, which we are all somehow building, consciously or unconsciously. And there is so much to celebrate, the hope of us getting it, getting that we are all vital parts of a global family and this wondrous planet our home. And as she changes (shifts) so do we.

Yes, change is scary and we can run and hide (my initial hermit-crabby instinct) or jump around outside like a kangaroo excited about the possibilities...I don't know about you, but I'm outgrowing my shell.

Grace of Wisdom

Last night was another sleepless one. Thanks to a persistent migraine--probably from trying to watch the 3D tribute to Michael Jackson on the Grammy's without 3D glasses--I could not shut my mind up so around six a.m. I gave up, picked up some not-so-light reading, and came across something to share.

In her book Defy Gravity, Caroline Myss asks us to consider what the grace of Wisdom represents, which she defines as "The presence of God unfolding guidance within the events of your life while you seek to respond with wisdom in the midst of the changes."

Earlier she talked about what God is, and I like her view that "Out in the vastness of external space, the only force that exists is a sense of divine, nameless Light--no costumes, no churches, no synagogues, no ashrams, no mosques, nothing. Just Light." That's a pretty bold statement, but at essence it feels as true as anything else. That doesn't mean we can't use the costumes, churches, etc. to bring us closer to the embrace of Light, if that's what it takes.

Throughout her book she quotes Buddha and Jesus and Mohammed and other faiths so I don't think she has a problem with using them as 'pointers', and quoting Eckhart Tolle (I think he might be quoting Buddha here), just be careful not to mistake the pointer for the Truth. I've also heard 'don't mistake the finger pointing to the moon as the moon itself.'

But back to wisdom. Caroline goes on to say--and I so love this--"You cannot ask why did this happen to me? In situations of loss or pain, such a question assumes an injustice has been done that requires an explanation." I can't tell you how many times I've ridden that fruitless merry-go-round.

Then she says something I have begun to suspect; "All crises have more than one level of origin--the level you can see and the many other levels of influence that rise as high as the cosmic plan of evolution and the common destiny of humanity." Halleluja! I can stop blaming the ex, my grandson's adoptive parents, the government, the fill-in-the-blank.

She goes on; the question you must ask yourself then is "How wisely do I want to perceive this? Do I want to see this situation through wisdom or through woe?" Woe is the result of taking events personally, as if all pain and suffering were intended just for you." Well, I wonder how long it will take for this one to sink in--to live it and not just know it--because frankly, this is HUGE.

"Wisdom is the choice that recognizes pain and suffering as part of the human experience. It is inevitable that we will cause each other to suffer in some way." This seems to happen regularly within the circle of people we interact with, and the closer the relationships the more likely--family, friends, co-workers, all of it. "At times these actions will be deliberate and at times they will be unintended. It is wise to recognize yourself in everyone else. (bold highlighting mine).

This perspective is something you find in Byron Katie's Inquiry, what she calls, The Work. What I love about inquiry is that in the end, you really do start to see yourself in everyone, which makes for a more compassionate perspective. Caroline adds, "Wisdom allows you to melt into others, and the more you melt, the more compassion is awakened." Well bingo, I've just connected some dots.

In the heart of her discourse on wisdom, Caroline invites us to "Seek the wise response in all the events of our lives" and some questions she suggests we ask ourselves include:

• What changes am I fighting that are bringing me pain?
• If I am in pain, am I taking something personally that has nothing to do with me?
• Am I blaming someone for something that would have happened anyway?

I left this reading with a deeper appreciation for wisdom and gratitude for the more painful events of my life. Maybe it really is all for our awakening.

I also like Caroline's focus on the good of the whole, or everyone, not just our little speck of self. She adeptly shows the difference between the work of the ego and the work of the soul. And that, my friends, makes for good reading.