A birthday and a lesson after death...

Yesterday was my friend Jonathan's birthday. I've known Jonathan since sixth grade. He was kind and funny and seemed immune to negativity, peer pressure, hatred or meanness. He was quite simply the kindest, most positive and upbeat person I knew. Jonathan and I lost touch as many of us Gen X'ers did (we didn't have anything like Facebook when we graduated - life was very different). One day, at some point after I found Facebook, Jonathan did too and we became Facebook friends. He would send me messages now and then (not posts on my wall but actual, personal messages that often just said "Hi Amy, how's life? I hope you're great. I'm very happy that things went well yesterday at the hospital. I'm so proud of my boy! He's going to play soccer soon!"). You see, Jon had all the reason in the world to be down-trodden. His five year old son had cancer. He and his wife did all they could to have a happy, normal life as they fought against the cancer monster and celebrated his son's little milestones in the big battle and eventual victory over cancer.

Jon died a year and a half ago, suddenly, unexpectedly. Jon shouldn't have died. There was no reason for it. He was young, he was proud of his time spent working out at the Y to be healthy, and he had a son who needed him arguably more than any boy possibly could. I attended Jon's funeral at home and reconnected with old friends. We relived the pure beauty that was Jon. We mourned, we became closer to each other and I met his wife Sheryl and his son as they were saying their goodbyes to my childhood friend.

Sheryl and I connected instantly. I wanted to do something to support her. But I felt that there was nothing I could do. I was wrong. And I am telling you this - if you are reading - because you, like me, probably need to believe in a much greater power than what you and I can comprehend. You need to know that God/the universe/an energy greater than us is always at work in our lives - just like I needed to believe.

Jon died in the fall, not long before Christmas. I felt so compelled to do something for his wife and son but I couldn't imagine what - I barely knew them and I had no idea how it would be received if I did something. I wound up shopping for Christmas gifts for them both - surely, I thought, that was acceptable and welcome. While shopping for a woman my age and a five year old boy I was utterly compelled to purchase a pink feather boa that I tried many times not to buy.  I thought it was too silly, too inappropriate, too - something. But I just went with my first instinct and wrapped it up and gave it to Sheryl for Christmas mere weeks after Jon died. When she opened the gift, she was speechless. She smacked my thigh, looked franticaly around the room and then got up, searching for something. When she came back and sat next to me, she stared at me in disbelief. She couldn't speak and I really wasn't sure what was going on. She had a pile of photographs and kept telling me she had to find one. She found it. It was a silly photo of Jon wearing a feather boa. It had become a joke the two of them shared and laughed about often. I knew instantly: I didn't give Sheryl that feather boa, Jon did. But he needed a human to be quiet enough and trusting enough of her instincts to help him give this gift to his wife who missed him so much so he could say to her "I'm here." ...And I was that human who was eventually quiet and compliant enough to take a pink boa off a wall, buy it, wrap it and give it to someone who would, unbenounced to me, know exactly who it was from.

Yesterday we remembered Jon's entrance into this world in a now-Facebook culture. Many of us posted long messages on his wall about how much we miss him, how his positive outlook continues to teach us and what a gift he was to everyone. And while Jon is "gone," he is often present in my heart and mind because he has been my teacher, both in life and in death. He gave me my first tangible experience of connecting directly with the other side, with God. I took an action that came from deep inside of me, one I could not rationalize or figure out, no matter how hard I tried. That deep instinct (Jon's urging me) persisted and I acted according to that instinct. It wasn't mine to judge, just mine to act upon for someone else's benefit. I believe that this is what we are all given every day: A strong urging to do something that we may not understand, that may not benefit us directly but something that we know comes from a place of love so we go ahead and do it anyway. And so tonight, I share this with you all to suggest that we can all hear the guidance of God and our guides if we just listen to that knowing voice inside of us which proves to always be right, even if we never receive the evidence of just how right it is.

Jon, thank you. I celebrate your birth into this world and the gifts you continue to give us. We all love and miss you and I pray that we will all continue to grow in ways we cannot yet imagine because I know you are there helping us whether we listen or not.

Happy birthday, sweet soul.

Do what you must....

As things speed up and opportunities come quickly, be sure to take care of all the things that must get done.  Tasks, bills, to-dos, follow-up phone calls - it's all necessary for building the environment and structure around you that you need to build.  As simple or as complex as these tasks may be, they are all of equal importance.  They are all cogs in the machine that is your accelerating - and ascending - journey in life.  Be sure it is in tip-top shape so that it can carry you forward in this rapidly changing world.

The things you must do may seem optional or like they are just thorns in your side but they are all important building blocks that together, build the solid foundation you need to grow and prepare for what is next. Make a list, put it in your phone or on pretty paper and feel good each time you cross one item off.  They are each as relevant as the breath you took a moment ago and the one you will take next.  You don't count the little things you must do as the big accomplishments you make but together, they build to those exact accomplishments.  And there is so much you must - and will - accomplish.

So do what you must do.  Call who you must call.  Write what what you must write.  Read what you must read. Repair what needs fixing.  Organize what is a mess.  Clean what is dirty and unearth those things that need your focus and the light of day.

This is your journey.  Your chosen path.  Only you can walk it so do what you must to put things in their place and clear the way - and the rest will come.

How ready is your path?  

Celebrating death?

I'm back from my hiatus and the first and most prominent thing on my mind is the state of peace and humanity in the world.  I am feeling a sense of sadness and disappointment amidst the celebration of Osama Bin Laden's death - and a deep level of concern for where we humans, in 2011, place our hearts on the grand scale of human compassion.  Is it really okay to celebrate the death of another human being?

Celebrating the death of Bin Laden - once I heard the news of both his killing and the wave of American response - struck me instantly as just a wrong thing to do.  Why would we metaphorically dance on someone's grave?  Spit on it, sure, I get that.  It's an expression of anger.  But can celebration be an expression of anger?  Celebration comes from feelings of joy and happiness and love.  This is just not something that computes for me - and whats worse, it feels wrong and lacking in some sort of alignment to what is truly divine within each of us.

I've learned with time and much spiritual work that my initial non- ego-created response to something always contains a level of truth that comes from something far greater than my own mind.  I - and I think many others - tend to "revise" our positions after we have our initial response to a situation (and I am referring to our initial solar plexus-located intuitive-level response).  That revision is done in consideration of social norms, learned beliefs and opinions which are all external creations.  Once our egoistic minds become engaged in the process of categorizing, judging and assigning labels to a situation - often to a degree that the response is no longer that inner truth that we can rely on - I believe that we become misguided and get off track.  And it just so happens that I think that is what has happened in this situation.

It turns out that my initial intuitive response to the news of Bin Laden's killing is precisely in line with my very conscious belief in peace for human kind.  As we have had a couple of days to live with this new information about Bin Laden's death, I have found myself feeling a great sense of concern for humanity.  It makes me sad that there is so much pain, fear, death and destruction in the world - and amidst all that, I'm also sad that humans are capable of celebrating the death of another human being.  To be relieved, satisfied, or even glad about the "loss" of a human being - one most humans have every reason to despise - is one thing, but this act of celebration and how that is tied to a kind of patriotism is rather upsetting to me.

Celebrating death, in my heart, feels sad, lonely and misguided.  Death is not something to be celebrated.  In this case, this death will not be mourned by most people, but joyous singing and dancing in the streets in celebration?  It just seems wrong.  What does that say about us?  Bin Laden killed so many people -- that he is gone should give us pause to honor the lives of all who have died and suffered because of this man. We should pay little regard at all to him and focus all of our consciousness and emotion on the love that still surrounds the innocent lives lost both here in the US and around the world.  (Americans are not Bin Laden's only victims.)  I think, instead, we should bond together in our commitment to end the violence and bring more love and peace to the world.  Let's honor the souls lost to senseless violence rather than celebrating the death of one man.

The way we respond to ANY situation in life is a reflection on us - not the person or situation we are responding to.  It's kind of entry-level spiritual work I'm talking about.  Forgiveness is not for the person being forgiven but for the person that forgives.  The way I react to someone who treats me badly says something about me, not about the person mistreating me.  And the way I respond to the news of death - especially of someone connected to so much violence and hatred and destruction - speaks to who I am at the core.

I'm simply uncomfortable with bringing happiness to this situation.  Rather, I'm left feeling a deep desire to heal the world, to give more love to others and to have reverence for the entire course of human action.  Many, many people died at the hands of this Bin Laden and his followers.  What, exactly, in this situation is there to be happy about?  Bin Laden is gone but he is just one person - there is an entire army of misguided human beings who have obeyed and tortured and died for him.  Do we really think that will change now that he is dead?  Is anyone really breathing a sigh of relief?  Does anyone really feel safer now?  What, exactly then is being celebrated?

The spiritual teachers from whom I seek guidance - Jesus, Buddha, the Dalai Lama, Gandhi, Nelson Mandela, MLK, Mother Theresa - would never celebrate the death of another human being.  Nor will I.

Don't forget Eman Al-Obeidy

Eman Al-Obeidy is a woman in Lybia who was detained and gang raped by 15 of Gaddafi's men.  Her face and her story represents the stories of countless other women whose names and faces we will never know.  If you do not know about Eman, please circulate this and make it a point to educate yourself.  Eman fears for her life and rightfully so.  She asks us not to forget her.  

Please do not forget Eman.