This I Know

 

First of all, let me declare.… I know nothing. Having said that, I also know that some “truths” feel right to me and give me peace of mind. Here’s a few:

Nothing heals as well as forgiveness. Forgive everyone for everything.

Buddha defined it thus: “Forgiveness is the fragrance the violet gives to the heel that crushes it.”

I spent much of my life carrying resentments around with me everywhere I went. Picture me dragging a huge sack filled with rocks. Not only did I feel the burden of all that weight, but I felt unhappy and didn’t know why. I once heard Mandela say: “When you harbor resentment, it’s as if you drink poison and wait for the other person to die.” I believe that resentments, fermented in the mind, spews forth poison in the body. Even when I felt sick, if I resented my illness, I felt worse. Accepting my illness and doing positive actions to get better lessened the severity of it. This brings me to the second thing I think I know.

Acceptance is the answer to many of my woes. I learned this early, when as a young mother, I prayed to God to heal my deaf baby. In time, it became evident that Michael remained deaf. Then I prayed that an operation could cure him. After consulting many doctors and clinics, I learned that no operation existed to let him hear. My final prayer became one for acceptance of Michael’s deafness and petition to give me the patience and knowledge to help him throughout his life. I realized that in the grand design, Michael’s deafness will serve some purpose, even if it’s only to teach me patience.

When cochlear implants proved successful, I asked Michael if he wanted to have the operation. He said “no.” He has lived his life as a deaf person and feels comfortable in the deaf community. He has no desire to change that.

When I first entered real estate sales, I didn’t have much luck in the beginning. One day I found myself worrying about my finances, my lack of sales and my general fear of failure. Boo Hoo! As I said my morning prayers, I decided to focus on the positive in my life. I had food in the refrigerator, a roof over my head, good health, family and friends. In gratitude, I prayed “Thank you God for all Your blessings. You have always taken care of me and I trust You always will.” I immediately felt better, went to work and in the next week had three listings and two sales. I believe what I focus on, expands, and brings more of it into my life. When I pray with gratitude, more positive events occur.

 I kept a daily journal and wrote in it every night. After the book filled, I put it into a drawer and forgot about it. About three years later, I came across it one day while looking for something else. I sat down to read and laughed out loud at what I read. I no longer remembered the people who pissed me off, nor the incidents that I thought so important.     

It became a great learning experience. Nothing is so important to get into a stew over. I won’t remember it in a year or two. As I’ve aged, I probably will forget in a day or two. Nothing lasts. It even says in the Bible…“and it came to pass,” nowhere does it say ...“and it came to stay.”

I know that as a performer I depend on the director to guide me in my performance. If an actor, singer or dancer tries to tell everyone how to play their part, the show suffers. We have to trust the director to bring the show to a successful conclusion. Everyone has a part to play. Even if I don’t like the character, he/she is crucial to the plot.

So, if “All the world’s a stage and all the men and women merely players,” as Shakespeare once said, then who’s the Director? Certainly not me. God is the director of this melodrama called life on this stage called earth. If I remember this and relinquish control of any situation (I don’t have control anyway) then the play goes smoothly.

I watched a movie called “The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel.” In it, a young boy says “In the end, everything is okay and if it is not okay then it isn’t the end yet.” That speaks to me. I have felt for a long time that every crisis, every stressful situation, every sorrow has a purpose, usually hidden from view. Sometimes in hindsight, I see what purpose the tragedy served; sometimes not, but I believe a purpose exists. It gives me an inner core of peace.

When I get upset over another person’s words or actions, I need to look inward. Whatever I recognize in another, I have within myself. Maybe not the exact words or deeds, but I’ve harbored the same thoughts and behaviors. I’ve never murdered or stole but I’ve gossiped and fudged my tax returns. These are forms of character assassination and stealing. So, each push of my buttons becomes an opportunity for introspection and growth. For in the end, I believe we are all one with God, just as each drop of water is one with the ocean.

 

Leavings

 

 

Life is a series of coming and leaving, starting and stopping, entrance and exit. It begins with leaving the womb and coming into the world, advances to leaving mom and going to school eventually to leaving home and striking out on your own. Each leaving is fraught with uncertainty, anticipation and a measure of fear. But if you live long enough, you come through it all in one piece and learn the leaving was really an entrance into something different, sometimes wonderful, sometimes not. It is only in hindsight that I see the anguish and pain of leaving a marriage opened up a strength in me I didn’t know I possessed.

The summer of 1977, my daughter vacationed in Florida with friends, returned home and announced, “I’m moving to Florida” She spent the next few weeks packing her belongings, gave notice at her job, met with friends and co-workers for goodbye parties, promising to write. A week before her scheduled departure, she got “cold feet”

“Maybe I’m making a mistake” she said. “Maybe I won’t like living in Florida. Maybe I shouldn’t go”.

I told her “Go, if it doesn’t work out you can always come back home but if you don’t go, you’ll always wonder what your life would be like had you gone.”

So, at the age of nineteen, my baby left, as well she should. She returned a year later and stayed with me for a short time until she found an apartment.

I knew I wanted to leave the northeast and the advice I gave my daughter, propelled me to move clear across the country to an area as unfamiliar as the moon, without fear of the unknown. The only concession I made to uncertainty was renting my home on Long Island instead of selling it. I figured if I didn’t like California, I’d have a home to go back to. I sold or gave away almost all of my possessions. I didn’t want to drag a lot of baggage with me...actually and figuratively.
            I left New York, my only home since birth. I left my nursing profession of over 20 years. I left my friends and family and all that was familiar to me to move to Santa Maria, Ca. and start a new life. I moved into a small apartment on West Sheila Ln. and went to real estate school. I studied the material, so alien to everything I knew, eventually taking and passing the exam for a real estate license. I told myself “I’ll give it a year and if I it doesn’t work out, I’ll go back to New York.” I kept my nursing license active “just in case” A year and a half later I returned to Long Island to visit relatives and friends. I told my tenant I wanted to inspect the premises. When I walked into the home that had been mine for ten years, it felt foreign. I heard a voice within say “I’ll never move back here”. I came back to California and bought the house in Pismo Beach. And so, my leaving became my coming to a new home, profession, and life style. I started square dancing which led to ballroom dancing and then tap dancing. That led to the Central Coast Follies where I performed on stage for ten years.

As I’ve aged. I realize I no longer can participate in many of my former activities. I sold my house last year and moved into a retirement community where they provide much of my needs.I look forward to another phase of my life.

I can’t imagine life any better than it is right now. But since life is constantly changing, I know nothing stays the same. During my lifetime, I’ve lost jobs, home, car, parents, siblings, husband and lovers. Some by death, some by choice, all with emotional pain. And I survived, carried on with my life, doing the best I can. When it is time for me to leave this earth, I choose to think of it as a coming into a new and different way of existing.