Spiritual Guidance Blog

During January and February I had a blessed experience that allowed me to practice the art of ‘letting go.’ I was having an experience with another person that was not looking like or feeling collaborative. My perception of the situation caused me some irritation, sometimes minor, sometimes major. For the most part I was confused. I could not understand why the other person was reacting, behaving, and communicating with me in the manner they were.

About mid-way through January my disbelief in what was unfolding gave way to the acceptance that not only did I not understand why the other person was reacting, behaving, and communicating with me in the manner they were, but that I could not understand. Oh sure, I could easily hypothesize what was going on. And I could speak to the person and ask what was ‘really’ going on. But my acceptance was due, in part, to a realization that it was arrogant of me to think I could understand what was happening. I realized that it simply was not possible to fully understand all that was transpiring in the other person’s life to have them behave the way they were behaving. It was likely the other person was not aware either.

What this acceptance allowed me to do was to not get caught up in the building emotional aspect to the unfolding. I simply ‘let it all go.’ All of it! My perceptions. My judgements. My belief in what was right or wrong. I simply decided I was not going to allow myself to get drawn into any continued unrest, dis-ease, or conflict.

As I stepped back and simply observed what was transpiring, I was given the precious exercise and practice of not responding in anger to what were sometimes loud and blasphemous outbursts from the other person. My choice to not respond back with anger met with further invitations from the other person to engage in the unfolding battle. The emotional energy kept rising.

I realized, however, that the minor and major irritations I had felt early in the unfolding were veiled attempts to mask and suppress my own anger. You see…irritation, whether minor or major, is merely a flavor of anger. It’s all anger. Very simply, if we are not in a state of love, we are in a state of fear that most commonly manifests and expresses itself as anger, or less blatant flavors of anger, like irritation. But make no mistake about it—irritation is as much anger as all-out rage!

So I took my minor and major irritations into my meditation each day and allowed my forgiveness mantras and prayers to cleanse and heal my irritations and anger. This daily cleansing was such an important step in allowing myself to forgive both the other and myself. It was only through this forgiveness process that I could finally arrive at the place where there was no other person that I was experiencing. There was only a mirror showing me my own irritation and anger. This ultimate awareness was only possible by first acknowledging my dis-ease, but then to choose to let it go. The choice to let it all go gave me the little willingness I needed to heal through forgiveness.

I had a rather blissful time during the ‘Holiday Season’ that recently passed. And the bliss just kept flowing into and throughout January. Oh sure...there were plenty of minor and major disturbances that were calling out to me, but I found they did not ‘stick’ around for any extended period.

I was aware of my heightened peace and serenity. I was aware of my joy. I was aware of the simplicity that life can offer us. I was aware how my thoughts affected my perceptions and how they manifested in the outside world.

Something else was also conscious to me. I was laughing a lot. I was laughing at most everything. When I would make mistakes, or drop things, or interact with people…I would find something to laugh about. Most times it would be just a giggle. But often I would have a good old fashioned, belly-aching laugh.

Over the preceding year I have noticed that my frequency of laughter has increased substantially. But the period during the Holiday Season just passed was particularly covered in laughter, like glitter on a birthday cake!

Normal upsets would be met with giggling or outright laughter. Dropping things was met with laughter. Stubbing my toe, for example, was met with laughter. Hitting my head was met with laughter. Spilling something on the floor was met with laughter. Bumping into things was met with laughter. Walking out into a beautiful sunshiny day was met with laughter. Doing my weekly chores around the house was met with laughter. Greeting my friends was accompanied with laughter. Surprising someone with a kind gesture was accompanied by laughter. More things than usual were being met with laughter. I recall one exchange I had with someone whereby they were expressing upset with/at me; even that was met with laughter on my part (I might say, to the chagrin of the other person; but then that made me laugh too!).

The laughter would not always come right away. Sometimes the disturbance would take hold, initially. But often the cycle of negative or fearful thoughts would be interrupted with a smile. The smile would grow to a giggle, then laughter. I noticed that the laughter was a sign that I was accepting whatever ‘it’ was and letting it go. And in letting ‘it’ go, I was able to see the folly in my previous judgements that resulted in my negative or fearful thoughts.

The laughter became a ‘practice’ in acceptance and letting go. I recognized that my laughter was an outward expression of my inner acceptance of life and letting go of any disturbance that would rob me of my peace.

When I began writing passages for this monthly newsletter almost 10 years ago, I would sometimes get anxious and nervous about what to write about. If something to write about came easy, great! But if I could not think about what to write about, I would get worried. I felt a pressure, a self-imposed expectation, to write about something meaningful and worthwhile.

With each passing year I became more and more relaxed about what to write about. This relaxation often allowed me to stop worrying about what there was to write about. If anything, the relaxation paved the way for ‘allowing’ the message and words to come through me. There were many times when the passages flowed effortlessly from my mind, through my hands, onto to keyboard. But I would often wonder what would happen, if on any given month, I had nothing to write about.

Last month presented me with such a gift—the gift of having nothing to write about. Granted, all around me there were certainly newsworthy items and experiences being reported by media. The Holiday Season blessed us with its annual presence. I experienced a wonderful month full of joy and spirit-led unfolding. But nothing really inspired me to write about a certain event or experience.

I then realized that I really had nothing I wanted to write about. There was a momentary pang of anxiety. “Oh my God! Nothing to write about???!!! How can that happen???!!! How can I allow that to happen???!!!” But those fleeting thoughts passed quickly and I snuggled in to this ‘nothingness’ like a serene afternoon nap, under a big fluffy duvet, on a cold winter’s afternoon.

I became quite content in the nothingness. I relaxed into it. I allowed it to simply be. It was in the nothingness, as shared with me through nothing to write about, that I welcomed the beauty of ‘nothing.’

No-thing truly is beautiful. When there is no expectations, no pressure, no guilt, no emotional attachment to what is, simply ‘being’ and ‘allowing’ to be what is. It was truly freeing. It was peace.

It may come as a surprise, or no surprise at all, that I spend a lot of time at my computer. When I am not using it for work / ministry purposes, I may use it to communicate with friends and family, conduct online banking, or do some personal research on any myriad of subjects. So when my computer becomes inoperable, for any reason, I can feel like I am stranded on a tropical, deserted island with no food and water. It can feel rather nice to be on the island, but I quickly become hungry and thirsty!

Last month I was stranded on the beautiful, tropical island called “NO computer!” for almost two days. It was a mixture of elation (Oh Boy!...a day off!!!) and unrest (uh oh!...what was that next appointment!???). The longer I sat on the pearly white, sandy beach of “NO computer!”, the more hungry and thirsty I got. I found some empty bottles (clearly someone had been here before) and a notepad and pen…so I wrote some notes, stuck them in the bottle, and threw them out to sea, trusting the currents would whisk my HELP!!! messages to someone who could save me!

Guess what!? It worked! Sort of…

The first person who arrived was very pleasant, and they expressed their joy in getting my message and how happy they were to help me. We hugged and greeted each other and after a short chat we got set to leave the tropical paradise of “NO computer!”. Oops… Houston, we have a problem. The small boat the rescuer brought had sprung a leak and sank while we were reveling in our joy of being rescued from the tropical paradise of “NO computer!”. Wait a minute!...the rescuer had a cell phone and was able to place a call to headquarters to ask for another boat to come pick us up. No problem…except we had to wait until the next day.

The next day!!! You have got to be kidding me, I thought! It’s a nice island and all but I have no food or water here! What the #$%^& am I supposed to do???!!! Well…

I did the only thing I could. I began my forgiveness process. For the rest of the day, overnight, and in the morning leading up to the imminent arrival of the new boat to rescue me, I recounted my learnings about forgiveness. I sat on the beach in the hours preceding the arrival of the new boat and meditated. With each passing moment, the tension in my body began to dissipate. I became more relaxed and felt my chest open. I could feel the forgiveness working. I no longer held any ill will toward myself, the first rescuer, or the team enroute to the tropical island of “NO computer!”.

The rescue team arrived and helped me board the beautiful boat to take me back home. I looked back at the beautiful tropical paradise of “No computer!” and waved goodbye. The crew of the boat pampered me and doubted on me. They even made a brand new computer available to me for the ride back home…so I could catch up on my work. And guess what???!!! The computer worked great! (Wink! Wink!)

Last month I was blessed to be gifted a ticket to a live theatre production that was produced, staged, and performed by a local, amateur troupe. Of all the performing arts, live theatre may be my favorite. But, curiously, I have not always enjoyed the theatre productions I attended.

Roll the clock back a few decades and I would find myself going to live theatre a couple of times each month. I enjoyed going to everything from major, professional productions to local, amateur shows put on by high school kids. I would gladly go to almost anything, but I would often not enjoy the productions. And my enjoyment of the production had little, if anything to do, with the actors being professional or amateur.

I came to recognize that my enjoyment, or not, of any given production was based almost entirely on if I felt the actor or actress was comfortable or nervous. If the actor or actress was comfortable, I was comfortable and would almost always enjoy the production. But if the actor or actress was nervous, then I would be nervous and almost always not enjoy the production.

I will spare you the pathological analysis of why I felt comfortable if the actor or actress was comfortable, or why I felt nervous if I sensed the actor or actress was nervous. What I taught myself was that my enjoyment of the play was predicated on whether the actor or actress was comfortable or nervous. I placed my enjoyment, or not, in the hands of another.

I had not been to a live play in many years—are you surprised! So when I was gifted the ticket to attend the production last month, my body immediately started to bring back the feelings and emotions associated with my enjoyment, or not, of a play based on the actor or actress’ comfortableness or nervousness. I brought these feelings and emotions into my meditation and inner work and knew I had to drop the underlying issues if I was going to change my ways.

The play I attended had a cast of nine actors. Eight of the nine actors were present in the first two scenes of the play. Some of the actors seemed quite comfortable, others looked unsure, and still others did not look like they wanted to be there. There was certainly plenty of mixed emotions playing itself out on stage, no pun intended.

As the play unfolded I increasingly became aware of my enjoyment of the production. Remember, it was an amateur production. This meant, for this production, the stage lighting, sound, and sets were minimalistic and basic, at best. There were a few foibles when actors entered and exited the stage and scenes. But the show went on.

And as the show went on, I enjoyed the production more and more, regardless of what was playing itself out on stage; again, no pun intended. I grew in my appreciation for the actors’ abilities, efforts, and dedication to their task at hand. I grew in appreciation of the actors’ courage and willingness to put themselves ‘out their’ and be willing to be judged.

And it was in THAT moment, the moment of awareness and insight around my judgement that I realized why I was enjoying this particular production so much. I wasn’t judging. I had dropped my judgements. I simply allowed to unfold what was unfolding. I didn’t want it to be something else. I didn’t want the actors to be something or someone else. I didn’t want the actors to be a better or worse rendition of themselves. I wanted the actors to be just who they were, acting out the scenes as they wanted to, interpreting things as they wanted to. It didn’t matter to me if they were believable or not. It didn’t matter to me if the lighting, sound, or sets worked. All that mattered was that I allowed the play to unfold as it unfolded and to accept it for what it was, instead of what I thought it could or should be.

I walked out of the theatre on a bit of a high. In this instance anyways, going to the theatre, I had changed my ways. Back to the theatre I say! The next production awaits!