Category: Uncategorized

I’m imagining an ET dropping by to check out what’s going on here on earth.  What humans are all about.  It notices that humans are amazingly playful.  Is astounded by the hundreds of forms of play humans have created.  Notices that there are these things humans refer to as games, with most of them having an element that seems to fire humans up; competition.  They conclude that two components of human structure are playfulness and competitiveness.  I’d have to agree with that ET. Playfulness and competitiveness must be in our DNA.

I’m all for embracing what comes from enjoying these elements of our human-ness.  And I see where it can get in our way.  Especially in something that is not so obvious to folks in a search for their reason for being here on earth: we can compete with ourselves, keeping our focus on being a winner or a loser in our own life game.  And so this is an invitation to check in on that inner score card that, face it, we all have.  Because what really matters is not whether or not we have an identifiable calling.  What matters is whether we are letting our souls participate in the every day choices and actions that will, often without our notice, keep us on course.  Then, in the being and the doing, we may at some point recognize what our soul has been up to all along.

First of all, I am not afraid of bugs.  I just like them to keep to their business.  No fear.  Respect.  For all creatures, great and small.

Until, looking up from my morning coffee, I see a very large winged being sitting on the wall across the table from me, and I recognize that winged being to be a wasp.

All that no fear, respect for all creatures great and small, goes straight out the window.  It could fly at me.  I could swing at it. It could become defensive and swoop in, land on my arm, sting me with its nasty stinger!  I could swat it.  It could sting again and again before it dies!

I become aware that, given that it has yet to become airborne and done little more than crawl along the picture rail a foot from the ceiling, I might want to come up with a plan B in dealing with The Wasp Invasion.

I will name it.  I will call it Trixie.  Immediately I notice that I am now interested in seeing what is going on with Trixie.  Is she lost?  She’s been crawling for a while.  I wonder if she is having trouble finding the door.  I open it wide for her.  She doesn’t seem to notice it.  I wave the newspaper to encourage her to fly in the direction of the door.  No deal.  She is going to need more help.  I extend the edge of the newspaper close to her.  Trixie doesn’t seem to consider a ride on a newspaper the avenue to her escape from the kitchen.  I push her with the edge of it, hoping to get her flying in the right direction.  Trixie falls to the floor.  She can’t fly!  I gently scoop her up onto the newspaper and set her outside.  I wish Trixie well and close the door.  Trixie on the outside and me and my coffee inside.

I share this little saga because it has me wondering if giving the thing that has become an issue in our lives a name that makes it seem less threatening is a way to make it approachable. Might allow for a shift in perspective, for new information to come in, new solutions.

I won’t mind if you borrow the name of my wasp.  I’m pretty sure Trixie will be okay with it too.

If we were to ask our souls this question, and I challenge you to try, we’d get, “Absolutely, when you are on that richly challenging and beautiful planet referred to as earth, every moment is most surely a pearl.”

If we were to ask our souls how this could possibly be so, given the abundance of moments that appear most definitely un-pearl-like, the response might be:

“Look for it.” In lieu of a New Year’s Resolution, I offer the challenge of engaging, for just seven days, in the constant commitment to look for the pearl.  In every moment.

If you enjoyed your week of pearl hunting and you’d like to extend that most ecstatic experience of sharing in the perspective of the soul, by all means, be my guest.

Last April, a friend of mine drove the thirteen hours from Southern California to San Francisco to drop off a tortoise.  I like them, you see, and my friend doesn’t because tortoises hiss.  Easy to see that being hissed at every morning might not inspire a bonding experience.  Especially in situations where the hisser is foisted on one by the care-taker family member moving out.  And they do have a bit of a cold look to their eye.

I don’t mind the steely look or the breathy statements, nor the six months it took Bella (renamed in the first week–they thought she was a boy and I would be insulted as well if I’d been named after a teenage mutant ninja turtle) to warm up enough to recognize me as her food source.  And let me tell you, Bella is a foodie.  She is ecstatic about fresh garden roses.  She sucks up dandelion greens like they’re pasta, will take an occasional nasturtium blossom, and destroys romaine leaves.

I consider this, and her interest in my socks when she visits in the kitchen, to be signs of her personality blooming.  Which brings me to the point of sharing this fortuitous little event in my life:

There will always be times when things arrive unsolicited on our doorstep.  We can consider them the gods cursing us, or we can dig deep and find the joy and the love in them.  Remembering as well that when we ask for help in that prayerful way of connecting with the light that guides us, we will be given all the help we need.

Wishing you days filled with fresh roses and endless delicious greens– Bella and Maureen

Here’s a short reminder from the pages of Clearings: Helping Lost Souls Find The Way Home, written in reflecting on a lost soul looking for a way to seek revenge to right the wrongs done to him:

You can let anger fuel your life.  If you do, it will blind you and steal joy and happiness from you.  That is the price you will inevitably pay.

Lay the anger down.  Let it flow into the earth. Come back to peace.