Tuesday, October 30, 2012

Epilogue: D.O.A. (Delight on Arrival)

This manuscript is both a memoir of sorts and a work of fiction.  The stories and events included are based on my life experiences and memories but I have changed names, details, event sequences, and outcomes throughout the work.

Read Chapter 1       Previous Chapter

Epilogue: D.O.A. (Delight on Arrival)
Spring was almost a week old. This year the season seemed to want to show up on time, and the weather was unseasonably warm for the end of March. Elizabeth had been rejoicing and embracing the new season as it unfolded day by day. She found herself awakening earlier each morning, looking forward to being outside and enjoying the pleasures of the day.

This morning, Elizabeth had arisen with Vincent and sent him off to work before the sun was fully up. That was not unusual, but usually she would return to bed so she could sleep a few more hours. But today she had stayed up. She had already written her morning pages, posted her mandala, checked her emails, and was busy preparing her breakfast. She had been amazed at all the energy she seemed to have discovered now that spring was making itself felt.

Finishing her breakfast, she decided to take a few moments to sit as she was accustomed to do now. She positioned herself in her “sitting” chair and focused on her breathing. She noticed that her thoughts were anticipating the day. Since she had been practicing her sitting time more diligently, she found she was able to bring her focus back to her breathing more easily. At one point, though, she began to feel that she really needed to get going, that it was time for her to get outside. She continued the refocusing process, but this feeling emanating from inside of her would not be refocused. Finally, she couldn't ignore the feeling any longer and prepared herself to greet the day. Because of the warmer weather, she wouldn't need to put on the many winter layers and her heavy coat, and she was ready to leave in just a few minutes.

As Elizabeth stepped outside of the apartment building, she breathed in the still chilly but fresh spring air. She smiled as she thought, “Unseasonably warm doesn't mean warm; it just means warmer than it normally would be at this time of the year.” She stood on the step and looked around. 

Elizabeth noticed that almost all of the trees were still in hibernation mode with their dark stick-like branches and no greenery in sight. Any leaves that clung to the trees and brushes were last year's memories, brown and lifeless, not realizing that they were supposed to have let go of the tree or bush in the autumn or at least during the winter snows. Elizabeth thought how like her those leaves were. She, too, clung to memories, not letting go of the old feelings and the interpretations she had assigned to past experiences. She noticed, once again, how the world was being her mirror, showing her what she needed to see so she could remember who she really was and live her life more fully, flowing in the magic of Life, Love, All That Is.

Elizabeth turned to begin her walk and she heard a sound, a sound she hadn't heard in quite a while. She listened carefully and off in the distance she heard the faint cries of birds. She felt her excitement mount as the cries got louder and louder. She scanned the sky and soon she saw them: a flock of geese forming a perfect V stretching out in the deep blue of the spring sky, calling out to encourage one another, knowing that they soon would be home to begin the cycle of rebirth and renewal.

The joy and delight she felt at being given the opportunity to see her old friends' arrival was indescribable. As she continued to watch their flight, Elizabeth noticed that the point of the flock's V in the sky seemed to be aiming toward her. She felt as if their cries included her, encouraging her to understand the message they were bringing that she, like them, had always been and would always be in the eternal flow of magic. No search was necessary; for like Rumi's necklace, the magic she sought was already where she stood, where she lived, where she was. All she had to do was open her heart, embrace all of Life, and let the magic flow.

Elizabeth watched until she could no longer see the geese. She wished them well and hoped that she would see them depart in the fall. Nevertheless, she knew as she stepped onto the sidewalk, her “pieces of magic” days were behind her. Along with the flock of wild geese on the wing, a new awareness of the flow of magic had arrived, bringing with it a new cycle of rebirth and renewal for her life journey and an anticipation of new experiences and delights.


Copyright © 2011-2012 by Vicky Lynn Macchione.
All Rights Reserved.
No reproduction of this text is allowed without the written permission of the author.

Monday, October 29, 2012

Chapter 26: What's it (Life) all about, Elizabeth?

This manuscript is both a memoir of sorts and a work of fiction.  The stories and events included are based on my life experiences and memories but I have changed names, details, event sequences, and outcomes throughout the work.

Read Chapter 1       Previous Chapter       Next Chapter

"What's It All About Alfie?" lyrics

Chapter 26: What's it (Life) all about, Elizabeth?
When Elizabeth awoke, she lay quietly in bed for a few moments. Slowly, a realization dawned upon her. Today was the spring equinox! It had finally arrived. The frigid temperatures and austere landscapes of winter would soon be just a memory, giving way to the warmth and colors of spring. Elizabeth felt her whole being rejoice as she quickly arose. She took her first peek outside and noticed that spring had come dressed in a clear, although cold, sunny day with a vibrant blue sky. Elizabeth could hardly wait to go outside and embrace the new season.

As she finished eating her breakfast and her regular morning duties, she noticed a song playing in her mind. (The song was “Alfie,” written in 1965—lyrics by Hal David, music by Burt Bacharach.) She recalled that the song had started surfacing in snippets several days before. She had been curious about why this particular song—one that she remembered first hearing when she was about twelve years old—was going through her mind. But she was busy and didn't take much time to figure out the answer to that question. Today, though, the song was insisting that she pay attention. So Elizabeth took a few moments to look up the lyrics and consider their meaning and relevance to her life right now.

Elizabeth sat in front of her computer, did a quick Internet search and found the lyrics quite easily. She found several versions of the song online and listened to the different artists who had performed the song. She even spent some time reading about how the song came into being, who had written the lyrics, who had created the music, for which movie it had been specifically written, and the synopsis of the movie, since she had never seen the film. She decided to print the lyrics and bring them with her as she took her walk on this, the first day of spring.

Bundled up, Elizabeth took her first steps into the new season. She had the printed lyrics in her pocket but she really didn't need to check them because the words were already in her memory from all those years ago. She decided to use the lyrics as a walking meditation. “After all,” she thought, “if the song was in my mind, and I haven't actually heard it for years, there must be a message for me.” She had often received messages from song lyrics in the past and knew that the Universe/Source/All That Is communicated with her in that way.

The first line of the song was a question. Elizabeth phrased the question as if she were asking it to herself, “What's it all about, Elizabeth?” She decided that the word it referred to life in general and she decided to apply the word to Life and the flow of magic for which she had been searching. For her, that question summed up her focus: “What is the flow of magic all about?” Was it, like the song lyrics asked in the second line, something that only happened while she was alive, and then, only as pieces of magic, never as consistent and persistent flow? Or did it continue before and after her earthly existence? In other words, was magic eternal and actually the underlying canvas of All That Is that created, maintained, and filled her life? She again thought of the scripture that had come to mind so many times over the past several months—“For in him, we live and move and have our being.” 

Elizabeth considered these questions. She had realized in reviewing different events in her life that the magic she longed for was always flowing; it had existed always and would continue forever. Magic, as well as Life/Source/All That Is, was eternal. That's why the scripture would continue to come up as she was thinking about magic or Source or Life or All That Is. For her, those words were all synonymous for the same substance or essence from which all life sprung.

The next few lines of the song talked about how a person's viewpoint affected how they acted in life. Was being kind a foolish idea? Did the world really belong to those who were strong, the people who exercised their control over others without care or concern? Did the golden rule hold any importance in this day and age? 

As these questions came up in her thoughts, Elizabeth saw a parallel with the idea of relationships being a mirror reflection of herself. She could ask herself those questions in regard to how she thought about and acted toward herself. A new idea also surfaced. “Have I ever applied the golden rule to myself?” Elizabeth wondered. “No,” Elizabeth thought. She had only used the golden rule to govern how she treated others with the full expectation that she would receive like treatment back. For a long time, though, she hadn't understood that the return treatment would not necessarily come from the person to whom she had applied the principle. Now, she was seeing the golden rule in a new light. The treatment she received from others was the golden rule reflecting how she thought and acted toward herself. Elizabeth was amazed at this discovery.

Elizabeth returned to the song lyrics. The next few lines proposed the idea that whether someone believed in a greater power (God/Source/All That Is) or not, there must be some guiding force existing in our world that could help people live their lives. The next line reveals what that force is: Love. And Elizabeth's own sentiments echoed that line: “I believe in love.” For her, Love was simply another name for God/Source/Life/All That Is and even magic. The song also pointed out that there was a “true love,” a kind of love that takes us from simple existence to real, vibrant life; from emptiness to an understanding of the value of every life including one's own. Elizabeth understood already that what the world called love was often a counterfeit emotion, equated with sex or used to exclude other people. The true love the song talked about was nonjudgmental and all encompassing. That Love excluded no one and allowed people to live their lives and still be embraced as worthy. At some level, Elizabeth knew that was the Love that everyone was at their core, whether it appeared that way or not.

The last two lines of the song advised the way to find that true love each day: “When you walk, let your heart lead the way, / and you'll find love any day.” What Elizabeth found amazing was that same advice had been echoed in teachings she had read and heard for years. Stacy, for one, had always mentioned about living and thinking from one's heart, about taking the High road and letting Love lead the way. Elizabeth had aspired to live that way, although she wasn't always successful. These last two lines seemed to be offering Elizabeth a goal for this new season and perhaps offered the answer to her quest for the flow of magic. “If I let my heart lead the way,” Elizabeth thought, “then I will be aligned with Love and more open to flowing effortlessly with the magic that is synonymous with Love.” She drew a deep breath of the cold, new spring air and let it go.  
The song had helped her to discover that it was Love that fine tuned her awareness, revealing the flow of magic in each moment. She realized that the pieces of magic she had experienced in the past had been showing her moments that she had been aligned with Love, which was always within her grasp and always her choice.

Elizabeth turned toward her apartment. Her meditation walk was completed and she now knew that the song had indeed been sent as a message, helping her to understand the journey she had begun last October. 

As she walked home, she enjoyed hearing the birds singing joyously, seeing the deep blue of the sky, and experiencing the feeling of anticipation for what this new season would bring her way. She felt gratitude for the long winter, where new thoughts and discoveries had lain dormant, gathering strength and energy in preparation for their emergence in her heart and mind. She also felt the bubbling spring of Love arising inside her heart, and she resolved to remain open and let love lead the way as she looked forward to the new path that stretched ahead.

Copyright © 2011-2012 by Vicky Lynn Macchione.
All Rights Reserved.
No reproduction of this text is allowed without the written permission of the author.

Sunday, October 28, 2012

Chapter 25: Magic Means

This manuscript is both a memoir of sorts and a work of fiction.  The stories and events included are based on my life experiences and memories but I have changed names, details, event sequences, and outcomes throughout the work.

Read Chapter 1       Previous Chapter       Next Chapter

Chapter 25: Magic Means
As the spring equinox edged ever closer, Elizabeth felt an anticipation growing in her, almost as if she, too, were preparing to emerge from her winter bud, breaking forth with new life and vibrant colors. She had sensed the feeling for several days, and today, upon awakening, she felt that the feeling could be described as a quickening—the same word used to characterize when a mother felt the new life moving inside of her. 

Elizabeth noticed that on most days as spring approached, she had been arising more quickly. For some reason, today, the idea of quickening captured her attention and she continued to rest in bed as her thoughts took her along that stream. 

She remembered during her first pregnancy when she first felt her daughter move. Elizabeth was about four months along and she was sitting on an off-white padded leather rocker that her husband had owned before they met. She had been thinking about the baby and when she would feel her move. And then, as if by magic or as if she had invited the experience, she felt a sensation she had never had before in her abdomen. She felt as if a butterfly was fluttering its wings inside of her. She knew instantly that the baby was moving. The feeling was magical!

She could also recall when her second child moved. She was at a wedding and only about twelve weeks pregnant at the time. She felt the same movement in her lower belly and was sure that she had felt the baby. When she went to her obstetrician and mentioned that she had felt the baby, the doctor looked at her doubtfully. Then, the doctor decided to use the monitor to see if she could detect the baby's heartbeat. She had told Elizabeth that there was a good chance that they wouldn't hear the heartbeat, but almost instantly, they did. Then, the doctor believed that the baby had moved, even if it was quite early in the pregnancy for the movement to have occurred.

Elizabeth didn't recall the quickening experience with her third child. She wondered why. Of course, at the time, she had one school-aged daughter and one preschool-aged son who had been experiencing seizures. Elizabeth remembered being quite consumed with her son's condition, reading about epilepsy and seizure disorders after she had received his diagnosis. Her pregnancy was pushed to the back of her mind while she dealt with her son's medical condition.

Although she didn't have a quickening memory for her third child, she did have the ultrasound experience, which had never happened with her other two children. She had been able to actually see her baby move.

Elizabeth had considered all her pregnancies as magical experiences. She felt the same amazement as each of her babies grew, moved, and kicked, realizing that the life inside of her was made of flesh, blood, and bones just like she was. Yet, somehow that being, although connected to her, was unique—her and yet not her. A few years ago, she had used that idea and image with a friend when discussing the inter-connectivity of all beings and all of existence with All That Is. Once again, she recalled the scripture, “For in him we live and move and have our being.” Elizabeth was astonished at how often that scripture seemed to be coming up in her thoughts. “How appropriate that phrase is in the context of quickening,” Elizabeth noticed.

Elizabeth thoughts hovered on the scripture for a while. She recalled that she had used the scripture when thinking about God/Source/All That Is, Life Energy, Love, and Grace. She knew that the flow of magic she was seeking might also be an addition to that list of concepts. She contemplated that idea.

Thinking back to the pieces of magic she had experienced, she noticed that they often happened when she was just being—not thinking, not worrying, not trying. She was simply being in the moment as it unfolded. She also noticed that pieces of magic occurred when she was creating art. She had experienced magical moments when she assembled a mandala and was amazed and touched by its final appearance. Sometimes she had discovered a light emanating from the mandala, one that she had not added through color or contrast adjustments. The light simply was, waiting for her or someone to notice its existence. Even as Elizabeth considered the idea of waiting, she realized the light wasn't really waiting for anything or anyone; whether noticed or not, it took joy in its existence and it existed. She had somehow aligned with the light when taking the original photo and had been able to capture it in the mandala.

The concept of alignment reminded Elizabeth of a definition of magic that she had found in an etymological dictionary. In the 14th century, magic had been described as the “art of influencing events and producing marvels using hidden natural forces.” In her mind, she saw the alignment with hidden natural forces—such as energy, life, grace, love—was what influenced events and produced marvels. Elizabeth realized others would not interpret energy, life, grace, and love as “natural” forces—except for energy. But she was coming to the conclusion that all the words she equated with the underlying flow of life were either closely connected or described the same energy, entity, field, substance, essence. “And what could be a more natural force than one that served as the foundation all of existence?” Elizabeth wondered.

Another interesting fact that Elizabeth had discovered in her research was that the word magician came from magi (the plural of magus—Latin; magos—Greek), a word used to describe “one of the members of the learned and priestly class.” Perhaps that's why magic was looked upon as supernatural because its original followers were purported to be spiritual people who believed in God or at least used their knowledge of God and the world to “influence events” and “produce marvels.” She realized, somewhat cynically, that there were always people who used their “special” knowledge to convince the superstitious or weak-minded (she herself had been in this category more than once in her life) to believe in and follow them.

But the magic Elizabeth was desiring had nothing to do with convincing others to believe that she possessed special knowledge or capabilities. What she was looking for was that feeling of flow, of seeing life with new eyes, of being present in the moment from which all of life expanded. For some reason, an image of the Big Bang popped into her mind's eye and a vision of all creation stretching forth from that one point, that one instant.

Elizabeth also realized the magic she wanted already existed so what she really wanted was the awareness of it, just not in the bits and pieces she had experienced so far in her life. She wanted the awareness to be the substantial and essential part of her life. But she still didn't know how to make that happen. Elizabeth felt befuddled in her thinking. She felt that the answer she was seeking already existed, she just wasn't seeing it clearly.

Feeling frustrated, Elizabeth arose from her bed and began her day. She had decided that she would take her befuddlement to the salon and sit with it for a while. First, though, she went through her morning preparations, including posting her mandala and writing her morning pages. She could feel the thoughts and ideas from earlier that morning going round and round in her mind, serving as a backdrop to all of her regular activities. She sighed deeply as she realized how weary she was growing because of this unfulfilled desire that seemed to have been with her for much longer than last October when she became more fully aware of it.

Finally done with her morning rituals, she settled herself in the green chair, her sitting chair. She took some deep breaths and then focused on her breathing. Her thoughts came barreling through her mind, today. And the feeling of frustration she had experienced earlier continued to grow. She felt that she had no control over her thoughts and kept following them wherever they tempted her attention to wander. She realized that she wasn't actually focusing on her breathing. She was trying to force an answer to surface. Her frustration and lack of patience had only given life to her racing thoughts. She decided to sit with her confusion and just let it be while she again focused on her breathing. 

Elizabeth struggled with allowing the confusion because for her it meant that she was not in control. She always felt the need to know and understand each and every event that came her way so she could file it under the correct category. Confusion made her uncomfortable. She took another breath and sat with the discomfort, noticing that the feeling didn't hurt her or cause her pain. She breathed again and felt the discomfort lessen. She took some more breaths. The confusion was still with her but the discomfort had almost dissipated. She continued her breathing and sitting for a few more minutes.

Eventually Elizabeth realized that she felt more at peace. The moment stretched out before her. She remembered the feelings of quickening and anticipated emerging she had had when she awoke this morning. She thought of how a baby moved when it was ready not just when the prescribed timetable said it should. She considered how a caterpillar entered the chrysalis in one state of being and actually completely changed its structure and state before emerging from its tomb of transformation. She realized that for the caterpillar, the chrysalis was a tomb because almost every part of what made it a caterpillar either died or transformed before it could emerge as a butterfly. 

Elizabeth could see a connection between the quickening of a baby and the emerging of the butterfly. The caterpillar must feel a quickening that inspires it to build its chrysalis, constructing the very habitation of its coming destruction. Once inside, the caterpillar relinquishes all control whether it wants to or not. Life in the form of Nature takes over, rearranging and recreating the caterpillar's remains, turning the tomb into a womb, from which new life will emerge. Then, the newly formed butterfly must feel a quickening that inspires it to break free from the womb of its creation, to be born as an entirely new creature in the world. And this magical drama gets repeated many times each year.

Elizabeth's attention was drawn again to the idea of alignment. Thinking about a flow of magic, made her think of a river. When people align themselves with the river's current, they experience the struggle-free and effortless flow. When people position themselves against the flow, they are guaranteed to experience intense struggle and need to exercise valiant efforts to get where they desire to go. 

Elizabeth asked herself, “How can I learn to align myself with magic?” One answer came immediately: Stop resisting what comes! She realized she had heard that answer before and had not acted on it. Elizabeth needed to adjust her belief system about how Life presented itself to her. She had tools to help her to embrace Life, using Stacy's mirror technique, sitting in silence each day, finding and expressing gratitude. If she took the time to use these tools, she believed she would find the open door that led to awareness and allowed the flow of magic, grace, love, and All That Is in her life. She would experience the canvas underneath all the paint she applied.

Elizabeth felt a quiet joy in her heart. As she had long suspected, the answer had always been within her grasp. The key word in that thought was “within.” The answer had always been within.

Elizabeth arose from her sitting chair, grateful for the peace and understanding she felt. She decided that later she would go back and listen to some of the recordings of her conversations with Stacy to get more clear on the mirror technique. But first, she would go outside and focus her attention on the quickening that was happening all around her as Nature prepared for the emergence of spring.

Copyright © 2011-2012 by Vicky Lynn Macchione.
All Rights Reserved.
No reproduction of this text is allowed without the written permission of the author.

Thursday, October 25, 2012

Chapter 24: Gratitude and Grace

This manuscript is both a memoir of sorts and a work of fiction.  The stories and events included are based on my life experiences and memories but I have changed names, details, event sequences, and outcomes throughout the work.

Read Chapter 1       Previous Chapter       Next Chapter

Link to Rumi poem, "The Guest House"

Chapter 24: Gratitude and Grace
As expected, winter had not lost its grip yet, and when Elizabeth had awakened, she could hear the wind gusting through the large pine tree outside her bedroom window. As she had peeked out of the curtains, she was greeted with an onslaught of white blowing every which way. She sighed deeply, weary of the length of the winter each year here in Vincent's country. The part of her country where she had lived never had such long winters. No, the daffodils were almost always blooming by the end of February along with some of the flowering plum trees. “Or were they cherry trees?” she wondered.

The cold blustery weather seemed to slow Elizabeth down in her morning rituals and it was noon before she had finished her breakfast, posting her mandala, and writing her morning pages. Since she had made a commitment to sit in silence for a few minutes each day, she still had that task to do.

Elizabeth went into the salon (the French word for living room, which she had adopted since living with Vincent) and settled into her favorite green chair. She and Vincent had bought this chair several years ago from Bombay Company when she had fallen in love with it. Since then, she always felt like it was the perfect place to sit and think or in this case sit and listen.

She settled herself into the chair and took a few deep breaths. Her mind, of course, decided that now was the perfect time to bring some thoughts about her life up for her review. She continued to breathe and allowed the thoughts to come, doing her best not to follow them or create stories from them. She did notice, though, that her thoughts kept returning to the morning and the negative feelings she had about winter. She felt as if some part of her being was nudging her to realize that she had a choice in her feelings about the season even if she could not control the weather itself.

Elizabeth reflected back on the choice she had made when she broke her ankle, the choice to look at what she had and could do instead of focusing on the difficulties a broken ankle presented. She knew what had freed her from her negative feelings at that time was her choice to express gratitude.

The year before, Elizabeth had done some research on the word gratitude in preparation for a workshop she gave to a ladies' group to which she belonged. The workshop took place on American Thanksgiving, which was not celebrated in Vincent's country. There was another woman in the group who was from the United States and who had requested that Elizabeth do her workshop centered on the theme of gratitude.

As Elizabeth formulated the plan for her workshop, she had focused on the two main parts of gratitude—the expression and the acceptance. She had investigated the words used for those two parts—“Thank you” and “You're welcome.” The personal discovery she had made was that on the spiritual path, a grateful attitude should encompass all situations and events that came one's way. Stacy wrote about the same idea in her astrology column when she instructed readers to say “Yes” to whatever came their way. In her workshop, Elizabeth had demonstrated that saying “Thank you” was the same as saying “You are welcome” to each event, person, situation that came one's way. She had used “The Guest House” poem by Rumi as an example of that welcoming and yes attitude, shown particularly by the last lines of the poem: “Be grateful for whoever comes, / because each has been sent / as a guide from beyond.”

Reflecting on her workshop revelations, she saw clearly that she had not chosen to look at winter from a gratitude viewpoint. Instead, she grumbled and trudged through the season as if she were walking in deep snow that had no end. Certainly, given what she had read and studied, there must be at least one lesson that could make itself known during the wintertime. 

She sat quietly as she considered what welcoming winter into her heart and mind could bring to her and how she might be better served to allow what winter brought instead of resisting the season by complaining about the ice, cold, and snow for four months! She was reminded of a Guy Finley quote she had read during her research for the workshop: 

“If we look at (unexpected) events as something placed in our way, a troublesome time we must pile through on our way to some imagined peace to come, then we literally throw away the possibility of discovering that each moment, regardless of its appearance, is divine in nature and can serve to help us remember the same...if only we so choose.” 

This quote pointed to the fact that Elizabeth could choose to see winter and its events differently. At the very least, she could welcome the season by enjoying its magical aspects like the feeling of amazement she got every year when she saw the unique and perfectly formed snowflakes falling on her coat or the shimmering of moonlight on an untouched expanse of sparkling snow. She could embrace winter as the season of internal exploration to be used for rethinking, reviewing, reorganizing, and preparing for spring's renewal. And the winter season always brought with it another possibility of releasing herself from the fear of falling, which had gripped her even more after she had broken her ankle.

Elizabeth was amazed that she could find positive aspects of winter on which she could focus. Vincent would call what she was doing “seeing a different way.” Elizabeth always felt when she had a moment where she could see a new possibility or experienced a change of heart about a situation that she was experiencing the magic of Grace. 

Elizabeth had been familiar with the concept of Grace since she was young. During her Catholic and born-again Christian days, she had been taught that Grace was God's unmerited favor. No one deserved it but God freely gave it because of His love for humanity. Several years ago, though, Elizabeth had found another definition that more fully described the condition for her. Eastern Christianity described Grace as the uncreated energies of God. In her mind's eye, Elizabeth pictured these energies flowing in and around and through all of life, creation, and the universe. At any moment, those uncreated energies could become created, resulting in a new way of thinking, a change in direction, or a new possibility in a relationship or situation. Grace existed in each moment offering an unlimited number of possibilities. Elizabeth believed she just had to be aware of Grace to see those uncreated energies transform into a creation. 

Elizabeth had always felt that there was a connection between grace and gratitude. She knew that the two words shared a link in their etymology. But she also believed that gratitude opened the door to the uncreated energies of God/Source/the Universe, providing a way for them to come into existence. Gratitude gave a person new eyes to see the possibilities that Grace was always offering.

Thinking of Grace had reminded Elizabeth of a friend she had made during her coaching course. As part of the course, each person had to coach another student. That was how Elizabeth had gotten to know Sally, an amazing older woman who had a powerfully positive outlook on life as well as a magnificently generous heart. During their time of coaching, Elizabeth noticed that Sally never spoke of God but of Grace. That was the name she had assigned to God and Elizabeth thought that was a wonderful way to look at God/Source/All That Is. Once again, Elizabeth was reminded of the Bible verse “For in him we live and move and have our being.” (Acts 17:28) Truly the verse could be rewritten “For in Grace we live and move and have our being.”

Reflecting on how that verse continually came to her consciousness, Elizabeth noticed that she had related it to God/Source/All That Is, to Life, to Grace, and to Magic. “Are all those words somehow synonymous?” Elizabeth wondered. Was the magic for which she was searching always and already present? Were the pieces of magic the times when she was actually aware of the underlying magic, when she actually was experiencing an alignment with the magic? “Yet more questions to contemplate,” Elizabeth thought.

Elizabeth brought her attention back to her sitting and listening. She was grateful for the new understanding that she had been brought into her mind about choosing gratitude when she thought about the winter season. She was grateful for the divine moment of Grace she had experienced and that she had been reminded of her friend Sally, who had died a few years before. Elizabeth felt that Sally had given her a gift when she had told her about Grace. She wondered if Sally had somehow been present today, reminding her about Grace.

Wanting to cement the experience in her memory, she decided to take a few moments to write about her discoveries in her journal. She found the special fountain pen Vincent had given her a couple years ago and the journal his uncle Maurice had given her several years ago. She reflected on her sitting time and described the revelations she had received during her sitting time. Now, she would be able to remind herself of how to think differently when next winter arrived! 

The day had become late afternoon. Elizabeth noticed that the winter storm had blown itself out. The snow was fresh, piled up in drifts, inviting her to come outside and make her mark in its pristine freshness. She put on her many layers. Her new viewpoint brought an anticipation that she rarely had in winter, and she looked forward to the fresh crisp air that would soon fill her lungs and the exercise her muscles would experience as she walked through the snow. She opened her heart and her door to winter, thinking as she left the apartment, “Life is so amazing!”

Copyright © 2011-2012 by Vicky Lynn Macchione.
All Rights Reserved.
No reproduction of this text is allowed without the written permission of the author.

Monday, October 22, 2012

Chapter 23: Finding Forgiveness

This manuscript is both a memoir of sorts and a work of fiction.  The stories and events included are based on my life experiences and memories but I have changed names, details, event sequences, and outcomes throughout the work.

Read Chapter 1       Previous Chapter       Next Chapter

Chapter 23: Finding Forgiveness
March had finally arrived. Elizabeth felt a spark of hope as she awoke even though the day was cold and snowy yet again. The month of March meant that spring was on its way after what had seemed like an eternally long period of time without bright light, warmth, and vivid colors. But that was going to change in just a few short weeks, an optimistic point of view Elizabeth knew, since spring would arrive on the calendar before it arrived in the reality of her daily life. 

The promise of spring's arrival made Elizabeth jump out of bed with more enthusiasm than she had had for several months. She quickly ate breakfast, washed up the dishes, made and posted a mandala, and wrote her morning pages. She felt that she was already experiencing the new energy that spring brought each year. She smiled, feeling like the day was going to be a great one. “Perhaps there is a piece of magic to be found today,” she thought.

Elizabeth decided to spend some time reading her email. She noticed again that one of her friends had still not written to her. She had sent several emails and when her friend did respond, it was with one or two sentences. Elizabeth felt that she had done something to annoy her friend but she wasn't sure what. Just last week, she had written again to her friend, asking her directly what she had done. But she still had not received a response.

This type of situation had happened repeatedly. Most of her friends and her family, too, only wrote to her when she wrote first. And, as was the case with this friend, they didn't respond even then. She wasn't sure why and it was a source of great irritation, anger, and self-deprecation since she felt there must be something wrong with her that resulted in her friends' and family's non-response.

Vincent had tried to help her deal with the situation by telling her that she didn't need to concern herself with people not writing, although Elizabeth had to laugh at his displeasure when one of his good friends hadn't written back to him. One would think that when Elizabeth saw that others had experienced the same situation, she would cease to take it so personally. But she had a hard time believing that when people didn't respond that it wasn't personal even if she knew there were many possible reasons why. Despite the reasons, she still felt this behavior bordered on rudeness and she found it unacceptable.

As Elizabeth thought about her pronouncement, she noticed how judgmental she was being. She knew that as long as she held onto her judgment and failed to forgive the people for their apparent lack of concern for her, she was going to feel out of sorts and irritated with the people and eventually with herself. 

As she continued to think about how she was feeling, she noticed that her enthusiasm for the day was quickly diminishing. She detested when she had trouble finding forgiveness for others because she always turned the lack of forgiveness and the irritated, angry, and hurt feelings she had towards others onto herself. No matter how often she would blame someone else for what they had done to her, the blame never stayed on the other people. Her thoughts always found a way to include her in the blaming process.

Elizabeth understood the importance of forgiveness and why it was essential to forgive others. She had learned much about the subject when she was attending a born-again Christian church. In those days, she had been taught that granting forgiveness was the way to receive forgiveness from God. She had also been instructed that an emotional response was not necessary when one forgave another person, that the action was more of a conscious decision. Finally, she had discovered in her church's teachings that forgiveness was often more beneficial for the person forgiving than the person receiving the forgiveness. The reason being that when a person believes that an offense has been committed, that person is the one who carries the suffering and the pain of the perceived offense internally. That pain and suffering often grows and festers until the person experiences the release of forgiving the perceived offender. So many times the offending person doesn't even know that a wrong or a misstep had been committed!

Several years ago, Vincent had introduced Elizabeth to another concept of forgiveness that she had never really understood until just recently. Whenever they had had a disagreement that she felt she had instigated, she would ask Vincent for his forgiveness. He would always say that there was nothing to forgive. At first, she didn't understand how he could say that because she certainly knew when she had been rude or mean or short-tempered. But Vincent's idea, one that stemmed from A Course in Miracles, was that there had been no offense because whatever she had done was an illusion and not real because it was based on her seeing herself as separate and not in unity with All That Is. Who she really was was loving and kind and good. Vincent believed her actions stemmed from the fact that she had forgotten who she really was and had acted from the illusion of who she thought she was—a separate entity who was calling out for love.

Even though Elizabeth understood forgiveness on a mental level, she still had trouble letting go of her feelings of hurt, self-pity, and rejection when people did not respond to her. For her, non-response meant that she was being ignored and ultimately invisible. She hated the feeling of invisibility. She hated feeling like she was not important enough for a person to respond to her. 

As she considered her feelings, her thoughts went to the ideas that Stacy shared with her about there not being anyone else in our world except ourselves—the world as a mirror reflection. Once, when Elizabeth had shared a situation in which the person did not respond and eventually broke off a friendship, she remembered Stacy asking her, "What do you fear so much inside? What part of yourself don't you want to communicate with? Where are you cutting the ties of communication or not responding to yourself?” She hadn't really considered those questions for a while and wondered why she had avoided looking for answers. Her thoughts stopped for a moment.

Elizabeth had made an effort to look at the non-response situation in a different way. She would tell herself that having these people in her life wasn't necessary at the moment or they would be interacting with her. She saw this idea as a kind of accepting of what is. Although it wasn't forgiveness, the concept sometimes helped with the emotional imbalance she felt at times. The reality was, though, she wasn't accepting what is if she continued to entertain and process the thoughts every time the situation repeated itself with the same or another person.

Her mind went back to Stacy's questions. Usually when she thought about using the concept of the mirror reflection, Elizabeth would think about how and in what ways she was not communicating with others. Stacy's questions focused the attention all on Elizabeth and her relationship with herself. That made answering the questions more difficult for her. The questions required her to really look at what parts of herself and her inner life she was avoiding. 

One area in which Elizabeth avoided communication was by not having a daily spiritual practice where she actually took time to sit quietly and listen. While Elizabeth had often received guidance through the subject lines of emails or different writings she read or even in songs she heard as she went about her days, she seldom just sat quietly to listen for guidance. She almost never asked a question and waited for an answer. And she could see that by not finding the space and time for that activity, she was keeping herself from responding to her Higher Self and God/Source/All That Is. Now that was a revelation!

This simple exercise of using the mirror had shown Elizabeth another point of view. She could see that she should be grateful to the people who didn't write to her because they were helping her see herself more clearly. So perhaps Vincent's idea was correct. These people didn't need her forgiveness since they were just reflecting her own actions. How could she blame them for their behavior? She didn't blame the mirror when she noticed something about her reflection that she didn't like. (Well, she, her daughters, and most women would agree that there are friendly mirrors—those that are slimming—and unfriendly mirrors—those that aren't!) 

"So does that mean I only need to forgive myself?" Elizabeth wondered. She would have to think about that idea for a while. She already knew that she was extremely hard on herself no matter how well she did something. Her friends, family, and Vincent had pointed that out to her on numerous occasions. She knew that her self-judgment certainly resulted in her harsh opinions and judgments about others. “What do I need to forgive myself for?” she thought. As she pondered the question, Elizabeth hit upon a possible answer. Perhaps she needed to forgive herself for thinking she was separate from All That Is. Similar to Vincent's way of thinking, she could see that she simply had forgotten who she really was and was acting out based on an illusion of separation. She knew that Stacy had also mentioned that when we blame others, we are thinking of ourselves as separate, so perhaps that was the only issue for which she needed to seek forgiveness. 

Elizabeth decided that she would need to consider that answer for a while. But she noticed that she had found a degree of peace in her heart regarding the non-responsive people in her life. She thought now was as good a moment as any to take some time to sit quietly with focused attention and just listen. She pushed away from her computer. She felt a wave of gratitude sweep through her as she realized that she had once again experienced a piece of magic. She walked into the living room to begin what she hoped would become a daily practice.

Copyright © 2011-2012 by Vicky Lynn Macchione.
All Rights Reserved.
No reproduction of this text is allowed without the written permission of the author.

Thursday, October 18, 2012

Chapter 22: Resistance Is Futile

This manuscript is both a memoir of sorts and a work of fiction.  The stories and events included are based on my life experiences and memories but I have changed names, details, event sequences, and outcomes throughout the work.

Read Chapter 1       Previous Chapter       Next Chapter

Chapter 22:  Resistance Is Futile
Elizabeth awoke in pain on this cold February morning, the last day in the short month. She had a terrible headache most likely brought on by the change in the barometric pressure. She had lain in bed, trying to find a comfortable position that might enable her to go back to sleep. Failing in all of her attempts, she had finally gotten up and went to find the hot water bottle. Sometimes, if she put heat on her face, the pressure would subside and enable her to relax enough to sleep.

Returning to bed, she put the very warm rubber bag across her forehead. She tried to resist the pain by not focusing on it. But as is the case, the more she struggled against the pain, the more it seemed to make itself felt. She thought back to the other day when she was thinking about her racing fear thoughts, her attachment to them, and how she could learn to control them enough so they didn't control her. She wondered if meditation practice could help with pain while one was experiencing the pain. In the email she had read before, the woman had said that meditation provided one space to sit with fear, sadness, and other emotions with which the person was struggling. Perhaps pain, although not an emotion, wanted to be sat with, to be heard and seen.

Elizabeth knew that Stacy believed that pain was a person's body screaming to be heard, trying to get the person's attention, because the person had failed to notice the message when being given in the spiritual, mental, and emotional bodies. Stacy also thought that all healing, no matter in which body it had originated—spiritual, mental, emotional, physical—manifested in the physical.

Elizabeth's head had continued to pound. Vincent was still home and he had refilled the hot water bottle for her. The pain came in waves and to just allow it seemed like a strange concept to Elizabeth. In fact, accepting or allowing anything that she thought inappropriate or negative in her life had always been a challenge for Elizabeth. Her need for control would always take over whenever she attempts to just let go and believe that what was happening to her was exactly what should be happening.

During her most dramatic displays of anger and resistance, Vincent would remind her that by her resistance of what was happening she was actually implying that she knew more than God did as to what was the best way for her life to unfold. Elizabeth didn't care for how this idea made her feel. In those times, she was overwhelmed with one desire—to get out of what was happening as soon as possible so she could return to her normal state, a kind of precarious balance between crises where she continued her quest for stability and security. Her thoughts revealed a flaw: her stability and security did not emanate from the events happenings in her life but from the eternal continuity of God/Source/the Universe. Elizabeth thought to herself, “It isn't the paint on the canvas that gives a painting its structure and form; it was the canvas itself.”

In the culture at large, though, resistance seemed to be something to be desired. There were so many situations in the world where resistance was idealized. The word could be used to describe the most noble of efforts to the most mundane: valiant people fighting against an evil regime, healthy immune systems protecting the body from the onslaught of disease, or an every day person who was able to overcome temptation in any of its multitudinous forms. (“Resist the devil and he will flee from you.” The scripture shot into her consciousness as Elizabeth considered the idea of temptation.) The primary example of resistance that always came to mind for Elizabeth was The Borg in the television show Star Trek. The Borg, a powerful, space-traveling collective, used cybernetic technology to assimilate other races into their collective. Their motto was “resistance is futile.” Of course, those who did not allow themselves to be assimilated—those that resisted—were always the heroes. Their resistance was not futile; it was admired, respected, and idealized.
 
But the resistance Elizabeth was thinking about had to do with fighting against the present moment. The best example she could think of was when she broke her ankle. For almost a week after it happened, Elizabeth would sit in a chair and play through the experience. She would feel frustrated and keep asking herself questions like: “Why did I break my ankle?” “Why didn't I go back inside the house and get my gloves?” “Why didn't I let Vincent go get my gloves for me? At least, my hands wouldn't have been in my pockets when I fell!” “Why didn't I notice the black ice?” Then, she would tell Vincent, “I can't believe I broke my ankle! How could I have done something so stupid?” Vincent listened patiently for a few times. Finally, weary of hearing her go over the situation yet again, he had said: “Elizabeth, you broke your ankle. That's the way it is. There is nothing you can think or do to change the fact that your ankle is broken.”

Elizabeth remembered that event as a turning point in her journey through the next three months. From that moment on, she realized that she could sit in the apartment and have a miserable time thinking about all the things she couldn't do because of her broken ankle or she accept the reality that her ankle was broken and make the best of the situation by being grateful that she had a warm, comfortable place to live while her ankle healed and she had someone who loved her and was willing to help her through the challenges of the situation. The choice was hers whether she wanted to resist and suffer or to accept and live her life as it had been presented to her. This situation had clearly demonstrated one of the principles in her coaching course: “Pain is inevitable, suffering is optional.” Now, if she could just use what she had learned to help her in other areas of her life!

Elizabeth noticed that the pain in her head had diminished and she was grateful. Some of the headaches were less intense but what bothered her the most about them was that they affected her routine. Maybe what she was resisting in the case of the headache was not the pain but the fact that she couldn't control the events of her day. She could see the parallel with her broken ankle experience. But she wondered about other situations she resisted. When someone was rude to her or broke off a friendship, how was she supposed to allow and accept those situations? One idea came to mind almost instantly: “Stop replaying the scene over and over in your thoughts.” Elizabeth knew there was truth in that statement. She realized that repeating the situation only continued and added to the emotional pain of the experience. Each repetition, then, became more intense, her thoughts amplifying her suffering and making the possibility of letting go more difficult. Elizabeth considered the idea that repetition of her thoughts along with the ever-increasing emotional responses cemented her attachment to the thoughts as well as the emotions. No wonder she couldn't let go of them easily; she had so identified with them that she believed they were a part of her and to deny them would somehow be denying her very being. But, in truth, those thoughts were not who she was but simply another layer of paint that she was applying to the canvas of Life. 

Elizabeth realized gratefully her headache had almost completely disappeared. She could get up now and face her day. She was sad that she hadn't been able to accompany Vincent as he walked to the métro. He was working nights again which meant that they only had a few hours in the morning to spend together. Unfortunately, her headache had interrupted that time. Elizabeth decided to be grateful that she felt better and to welcome the day with open arms.


Copyright © 2011-2012 by Vicky Lynn Macchione.
All Rights Reserved.
No reproduction of this text is allowed without the written permission of the author.

Monday, October 15, 2012

Chapter 21: The Fear of Death or the Death of Fear?

This manuscript is both a memoir of sorts and a work of fiction.  The stories and events included are based on my life experiences and memories but I have changed names, details, event sequences, and outcomes throughout the work.

Read Chapter 1       Previous Chapter       Next Chapter

Chapter 21: The Fear of Death or the Death of Fear?
Another February day peeked through the bedroom curtains, awakening Elizabeth slowly from a dream reverie. Once fully awake, she got up immediately, no thinking, and went to the kitchen to prepare her breakfast. As she busied herself with making her oatmeal, she noticed again that she hadn't heard her next door neighbor closing her cabinet doors for several weeks. Elizabeth remembered that just few days ago, she had also seen a moving truck removing items from an apartment on the ground floor. Elizabeth wondered if it could be from her neighbor's apartment. Later that same evening, she had mentioned her observations to Vincent, wondering if perhaps the woman had died. Vincent had replied that perhaps the woman had needed to move into a retirement or rest home. He recalled that he had once seen the older woman on the back stairs, moving extremely slowly and breathing very hard, rasping with each breath. Elizabeth had only had brief glimpses of the woman, maybe once or twice, and never outside of the apartment building. Elizabeth had also noticed that the local pharmacy made regular deliveries to the woman's apartment. 

Elizabeth's thoughts returned to her breakfast. She decided she would venture outside immediately after she finished her breakfast, not stopping to read email, make a mandala, or write her morning pages. She felt the urge to be outside and was already longing for the warmth and regeneration of spring, even though vernal equinox was more than a month away. 

Just after exiting the building, Elizabeth noticed that the concierge of the apartment building was doing his daily snow shoveling and general clean up. She stopped to talk with Gilles and mentioned her concern about the neighbor. Gilles told her that the woman had died a few weeks before. She had fallen in the bathroom, broken her hip, and had been taken to the hospital in an ambulance. She had died in the hospital and her family eventually came to pack up her personal effects and move them out of the apartment. He mentioned that the woman had lived in the apartment building for perhaps forty years, living first with her husband and then continuing her sojourn when her husband had died. Elizabeth was amazed. The woman and her husband must have moved in shortly after the apartments were built. Elizabeth thanked Gilles for the information and wished him a good day—“Bonne journée!” 

As she began her walk, Elizabeth's thoughts focused on the woman and her death. She felt sad that a life so close in proximity to where she was had left the world and that she had never really known the woman, other than by the sound of kitchen cupboards closing. She thought of the solitariness of the woman, how Gilles had said her family didn't visit and that the woman didn't really want anyone coming into her apartment. Elizabeth sighed, thinking of the loneliness and invisibility the woman perhaps had experienced. “Who had acknowledged her existence?” Elizabeth wondered. Elizabeth sighed and noticed another feeling welling up inside of her: fear.

Elizabeth took a deep breath and continued walking. The fear thoughts started crashing through her mind, creating scenarios about sickness and death: 
--“What would happen if I had a heart attack right now? I could die right here where no one knows me and where no one can help me. Remember Maurice, Vincent's uncle? He dropped dead while mowing the lawn, and he was only eight years older than I am.”
--“I could die at any moment. Both of my parents died young—52 and 66. Maybe it's in my genes.”
--“Could that pain in my hip be cancer? What if it is? I could be facing immense suffering ending in a painful death!”
--“What about that spot I noticed on my skin? Could that be skin cancer? Remember that neighbor's friend who found a small spot that disappeared and the man died a year or so later at the age of forty-five! The same thing could happen to me! I could be ill right now and not know it!”

The thoughts kept coming, one after the other; the stories became more and more dramatic; but each had a common theme—the fear of death and dying.

Elizabeth became aware of her racing heart and shallow breathing as her body responded to the onslaught of fearful thoughts over which she seemed to have no control. She tried to calm herself down by countering with rational thoughts like:
--“Everyone is dying every day. If I believe that all time is happening at the same time, then I have already experienced death.”
--“My parents may have died at younger ages, but two of my grandparents lived into their eighties and Nonna lived to be over ninety.”
--“There are strong painkillers doctors use when people are dying so they don't experience so much pain.”
--“I ride my bicycle a lot and walk almost daily and I eat pretty healthily most of the time.” 

But as quickly as Elizabeth could create a thought that counteracted one fearful story, another thought would emerge to counteract hers. She was fighting a war in her mind, and somehow the fearful thoughts always seemed to be stronger than her rational thoughts.

Elizabeth felt her mind spiraling out of control. She took a deep breath and attempted to put all of her attention on walking, knowing that focusing on exercise would sometimes alleviate the stress of the fearful thinking. She wondered why she still had these fears about death. She thought she had dealt with the fear of death and dying over the past few years—each time a family member or friend had died. For some reason, though, the neighbor's death had brought it back to the forefront of her thoughts. What could she do to eliminate this fear once and for all? Was that even possible?

Elizabeth recalled a quotation by Guy Finley she had read in her email the day before: “The mind, emptied of its attachments, fears nothing...while the mind full of itself spends its time fearfully watching over everything.” When Elizabeth read the quote, she felt that she finally had an answer to why she thought she had to guard against every possibility in her life. Her mind was “full of itself.” At first, she saw the phrase as signifying that her mind was literally filled and overflowing with thoughts. But she also knew that the expression described the condition of the ego mind that believed its thoughts were superior to and more valuable than anyone else's thoughts, including those of the Higher Self, whose thoughts, Elizabeth believed, flowed directly from the Mind of God/Source/the Universe. 

Despite her attention being focused on the quotation, Elizabeth could still feel the fear inside. She considered the first part of the quotation. She understood that her mind needed to be emptied not of thoughts it seemed but of its attachments to those thoughts. Elizabeth wondered if that meant it wasn't the thoughts themselves but her attachment to them that created the problem. “Why would I be so attached to those types of thoughts? Of what value are they?” Elizabeth asked herself.

Considering these questions, she turned toward her apartment. Sometimes she thought feeling the fear that resulted from her scary thoughts actually made some part of her feel more alive. That part wanted her to imagine and become attached to dramatic future outcomes rather than being present to life as it unfolded. That part, also known as ego, used the uncontrolled fearful thoughts Elizabeth allowed and the resulting emotions and physical reactions she experienced to give itself a life. Those ego thoughts covered over and, at times, blotted out any other thoughts, much like a painted background would cover the pure canvas of her All That Is analogy.

“How can I let go of these attachments?” she wondered. Elizabeth thought of a video she had seen recently. The woman who taught meditation was talking about sadness and how meditation didn't try to alleviate sadness but gave one a space to sit with it, to let sadness exist without resisting it or the feelings that came as a result of it. Elizabeth wondered if the death of fear could result from practicing the same process, not necessarily by using meditation, but when the fear thoughts came, Elizabeth could stop trying to fight them or attempting to reason with them. 

The idea of sitting with fear created fearful thoughts. Elizabeth actually smiled at the irony. How could not doing anything but letting the thoughts come unrestricted bring any kind of peace? She already knew that her fearful thoughts could run through her mind at breakneck speed, so how could allowing them to do what they did best possibly slow them down or stop them? Perhaps the answer to that question was found in whether she attached herself to the thoughts by attributing truth to them or by seeing them as a present moment reality. 

Though she doubted that sitting with her thoughts would help, Elizabeth was willing to try anything if it would stop her spiraling into the fearful abyss from which it took days and even weeks, at times, to emerge. She certainly knew the much-used adage, “What you resist, persists.” Could letting go be as easy as not resisting her thoughts but just allowing them to sit with her, to allow them to express themselves but not to assist them in creating stories about her future? Elizabeth didn't know. She supposed she would have to try the next time she felt fear's grasp on her heart and mind.

As she arrived back at the apartment building, Elizabeth definitely felt more peace than she had at the beginning of her walk. She was thankful that the fear thoughts were somewhat under control. “I wonder if fear hampers my ability to embrace life and see its magic,” she wondered. The thought floated quickly through her mind as she again thought of her neighbor who had died. Elizabeth sent up a quick prayer to the Universe, asking that the woman's final journey would be one of peace bringing her soul into the Heart of God.

Copyright © 2011-2012 by Vicky Lynn Macchione.
All Rights Reserved.
No reproduction of this text is allowed without the written permission of the author.