THE PEACEMAKER / ELDER WITHIN

RELI w      I wanted to find the peacemaker, leader and elder within me. I wanted to be free of having to make others wrong, or right.  I wanted to be free of reacting, aware that reacting to anything is always up to me.  No one makes me react. I wanted to change the game of side-taking, and the need to judge others.  I decided it was up to me to make this happen.

                 There are actions I can take, all by myself, in all relationships at work, home, and in the world, that do not require anything from anyone else. These actions are simple, immediate and inspiring. I can witness the change I want to see in the world and at home immediately. I can feel the shift of perception so that my perceived enemies become my guides and reflected shadow. They become, in the truest and most real sense, my teachers.

My intent is to interrupt some of what I’ve learned to believe about women, men, children, schools, apparent helpless body symptoms, relationships, working, and simply being alive. I can practice ways to immediately alter and change conflict, admonishment, and "make wrong" into respectful voluntary collaboration. I can practice working with myself to be free of blame, "having to be right,"  or need to sustain emotional positions.  I can even find the third side to bring the two sides together. To make this happen, I first decide I want to, and can go beyond the impossible  Impossible is a belief.  The instructions are there to follow with intent, intuition and senses.  It is a practice.  Freeing.           

DE-ADULTING #2

I believe that our son was born to show me how to de-adult myself to reveal and unravel all the beliefs I learned that are not mine, beliefs designed to construct an adult -- serious, appearing to be confident, hurried, busy, someone else’s definition of success, a world with little room for play, innocence, spontaneity - yet filled with rights and wrongs, should's, rules, regulations and a belief that these adult people should be in charge of children, demanding and authoritative.

Our son, from birth on, would have no part of this serious diversion from life. He would have no part of it, ever.  And I have met many children who would have no part of it.  They often become the so-called trouble makers, drop outs and ADD/ADHD diagnosed.

 To stay personal however, from birth on, our son insisted on forcing me to change my perception, to play, to laugh, to un-serious myself. I was in training and fortunately, for him and for me, I knew that, and welcomed it. He first reached into the hidden softness of my heart, through my veils of hardness and learned beliefs not my own, when he told me, at the age of five, "I don't need you to be with me. I need you to be with yourself. When you are with yourself, you are with me."

DE-ADULTING

What if I de-adulted myself?  I mean, gave up the need to be an adult person, someone who carries the beliefs of a world around him, dresses a certain way, talks like everyone else, shakes hands when greeting others, believes that getting older and taller means less spontaneous expression, more seriousness, separation from the instincts that want to cry, sing, dance, play, and do things that are alive in my body? 

What if I listened to children in the same way I listen to adults?  What if nothing had to make sense, be logical, or even be acceptable to others?

One more what if.  What if I decided I was not an adult, a child, or anything labeled?  I was just me, the loving, sometimes sad, playful, compassionate, kind, sometimes mean, little big person that cared about others, sought silence amid the noise, hugged others, allowed my mind to wander aimlessly from thoughts to fear, to worry, and wherever it travels, yet tapping into a self-aware place within me that can observe from the "outside," and tends to believe that there is something right about everything, even when not knowing for sure what that may be, like a universal religion that believes everything.  

CIRCUMCISION

At birth, I was circumcised.  Well, so have millions of males around the world.  This is not a complaint or way to blame anyone.

 Just as females need not ever be circumcised, neither should males.  It came to me years ago that for a little child, a baby, a newborn person, to be greeted into this "other" world with someone cutting on their bodies with a knife...just didn't make sense.   

Again, I blame no one.  For some, it has been a long-held belief that cutting on a newborn little person is the right thing to do.  Yet, I wonder how this brutal act effects the behavior of males as they grow into bigger bodies, often carrying an unnoticed trauma in their bodies. 

No matter the reason, or explanation for, what I would call brutal act, I wonder if any human, woman or man, simply takes an inhale breath, and holds it unknowingly for years or forever.   How does this traumatic event, this inhale, surface in relationships, ways of being, or even feeling deeply. 

I have seen young ones at birth, slipping out of their mothers, being greeted with smiles, warm touch and an environment of welcome.  No one cut on them, only held them close.  Seems so simple to me.  To feel deeply and exhale freely is such a gift to women and men. 

CHILDREN ARE US, AREN'T THEY?

Children really are us.  We are them.  Children are like adult guides helping us to remember who we really are beneath our adult facade of

CHILDREN ARE FUNNY

What's funny about children?  Everything is funny about children. They play, they laugh, they hug, they kiss, they play more, and they cry when their bodies demand it.  They communicate with people, dogs, cats, butterflies, bees, stuffed toys, pillows and all so-called inanimate objects. 

They see things that we once saw but now tend to dismiss as not there.  They feel and sense things that we would feel too, if we slowed down and agreed to feel everything that was within and around us. 

The children, without being taught, care about everyone.  Until taught differently, they see no separation between others and themselves.  They own nothing.  It is not mine, it is ours.  They have no need to own stuff.  Only play with it, study it, or hug it

Children really are funny, in the most positive way.  They can laugh and cry, always coming from the same internal source of expression.  Simple expression.   Children really are us externalized.   Children are a constant example of what we really look like inside,, whether we call them our own, or they’re free range children running through our lives……. having no need for adult identities, a public self, desire to look good, impress anyone or have need to be right. 

Children are us, someone once told me.  Actually it was me that told me that. 

BEYOND DIAGNOSIS

If I diagnose you something, you come to believe something is wrong with you, and you need my help to be like me:....normal.   What is normal?  Was Christ normal?  Gandhi?  All the medicine women and men that live in jungles, reservations and cities?  Or Shamans?  Are Shamans normal?  What is normal?  A diagnosis labels you something that makes it easier for me to deal with you, 'cause you see things different than me.  And I can prescribe pills and medicines for you, so you stop sensing and hearing things that I do not sense or hear. 

Labeling children is a way to make them wrong.  That is what the educational system does around the world.  The expectation is that you will sit still, be quiet, raise your hand to go potty, and respect the authority...anyone but yourself.  If you want to move around, dance, sing, go outside, speak up, you are labeled.  That label sticks, and goes on your record, and you come to believe you are wrong.  You come to believe that others know better than you.  You grow up, become an adult person, and question yourself all the time, especially when "friends" find fault or judge you.  If you defend yourself, you are "in denial."  You are too defensive.  You are something other than wonderful 

The mental health systems generally needs to label you something.  Schools need to label you smart, dumb. need to improve, talk too much, or never quite good enough.  We learn this way of seeing people.  There are some people, that simply see people in a creative way, without  need to categorize or find a label for that person.

A diagnoses is a convenient way to make me feel comfortable around you....cause you see things differently or see more than I do.  We name call all the time.   Labeling, naming and diagnosing allow me to write you off based on the words, "She must be .....or he must be......or ...."
But, if I am aware I am doing this...I can release all my judgments, and labeling and then I can SEE you...who you are inside beyond your personality and behaviors.  If you kill someone, well, that is not good.  You may need to be put away somewhere.  But then, governments constantly send their armies to kill and bomb people they do not know or see.  
 
Who are those people that judge others to be crazy?   Does a uniform worn by an uniformed person justify destroying people and cities?   Who creates these labels for others?   Who is this human teacher sitting in a classroom making the children compete against each other, and deciding who is good and who is bad?  So, for now, what happens for me, if I decide to notice how I am judging people, and instead release them without my needing to box them in?  

The people most influential in my life, have been those who see who I am inside, despite my personality or weird behaviors?   No naming, labeling or diagnosing, allows me to simply be with you without having to neatly place you in some category. 

Part II of this lecture will come later.  But for now, I must take my wondrous self outside and harass people different from me...which is most of them.  I don't know why God created people so different from me.  Must have been a gross error on her part.  

A personal message to people of any age, gender, color, religion, political belief, or body type:   If you share your personal life with me in voice or written word, I assume you can share it because you know I hear you, your words are safe and respected.  There is a sacredness in the air.  It is not for me to agree or disagree with what you say.  It is for me to simply hear you, and speak only when invited.

If I share my personal life with you, I feel safe with you, meaning I know you will hold dear the stories or words I tell you, and what I might reveal could be spontaneous.  If I felt I was expected to, or should tell you things, or it is the social thing to do, I would keep my words silently sacred. 

Sharing my life with someone just because I think I am supposed to, and you will like me, or stay my friend, serves no one ever.  My job to myself and to you or the other, is to possibly feel uncomfortable, yet set an example of what it looks like to be available but not "trying" to have you like me. 

WHO ARE MY EYES?

Years ago, I sat down at my computer and learned to
leave my mind, and ask some force outside of me what
is happening, or what am I to pay attention to.  I first did this
20 years ago when I could not think of anyone outside myself
that would hear me.  So I asked some unknown force in the
universe.  I asked the question about my recent vision changes.
I thought to share the so-called dear God letter with you. 
This is it below.  I only get a response when I ask the right question. 
First time I have shared one of these letters. 

"I was wondering about my vision.  What is  my body
and my eyes, and my seeing and my vision asking?  What action can
I take to have clear vision, clear thought, clarity everywhere?
Who are my eyes?  Who is the seeing? 

May I know?  If I knew what my eyes were asking, what would
I know, see, hear, feel, sense?

Trust your senses now, more than your visual acuity.  Trust what you sense
with your body and tentacles.  Let your eyes see what they see.
You see everything beyond what you can make tangible.

all is well.  Your eyes are your "I,"  The I in you is fading in lieu of
the greater I, the world, the universal, what is outside your
contemplation and imagination.  The people around you are your eyes to the
everyday world.  Your senses are your eyes to what lies outside the everyday world, unseen, unknown, and unworldly.  Allow for all that you do not understand and sometimes fear. 

That is good.  You are good.  You are all you need to be.  You always have been.
Those who see you, see beyond the you seen by you.  Bring yourself to others and
leave you there without wandering or loss.   There is nothing to lose.
Only to feel, sense and absorb. 

This has always been true in the universe.  The universe is but a small fraction of what is to be found and discovered.  You are everything.  You are beyond love.". 

NEW WAY OF BEING

I think that we are moving toward, or have already entered into a way to shift our perception of what life is supposed to be, and how we fight it and succumb to it.  That shift comes on its own without work, struggle, outside people or forces.  That shift happens when we are ready to receive it.  Not a religion.  Not a program.  Not something we read.  That shift moves into our soul, mind, brain, body, awareness, as our ally, shadow of who we already are, and can now recognize as all of woman and mankind reminding us we are whole, complete and more than good enough, with no need to make wrong, anyone, anywhere. 

This shift is more than a thought, belief, teaching or practice.  We feel it.  We know it. We are transformed without need for identity or place in the world.  Knowing supplants
outside experts, information sources, affirmations from anyone anywhere.  We simply know, feel, sense and have no need to celebrate, as celebration is in silence and in the knowing, and consumes all our old doubts and thoughts and beliefs." 

Belief becomes who we are." 

WHAT IS SACRED?

Sacred is a big word, even a sacred word.  I used to believe that sacred things only happened  in churches, Mosques and temples, and among Native people,  usually in silence, and separate from everyday life.  The Sacred seemed to be reserved for special occasions,  and often in ceremonial fashion.

Then I wondered if sacred is a way of living each day and each hour with each relationship, every action, all the time, every moment.   Instead of "have a nice day," I could bring a sacred moment to each person I meet.  I could slow my sacred self down and make eye contact everywhere with everyone, all the time, as a way of life. 

I could intentionally "hold myself sacred enough" to slow down, notice, and "feel" when my thoughts and body are moving in a "busy-hurried" way, then switch to a calm, sacred inner silence, continuing the same action, but without the hurry, busyness and disconnect from people and life around me, including being out of my own body disengaged from myself.    

To actually practice sacred, I must make a conscious decision that being out of sacred, serves no one, perpetuates disconnect, and brings a feeling of isolation. Sacred requires awareness, a new language, and allowance for silence

I can define sacred as being totally present, or at least knowing when I am not present.  In noticing myseslf NOT being present,  I am being present.  If I didn't use the word sacred, I would simply be it.

ORIGIN OF UNIVERSE: EILEEN

 Meigra and I were sitting outside at a breakfast cafe in Albuquerque, New Mexico. It was an early Sunday morning when the restaurant was busy outside and inside on this warm sunny day.   As we sat quietly, a woman, the owner, came over to our table, stopped and paused, simply staring at us.  Her eyes were riveting, a light yellow coloring around the pupils.

 "I recognize who you both are," she said, then sat down, even though a line of customers waited.  My linear logical mind was suspended automatically. I had no questions.  "I am going to sell my restaurant," she said quietly, "and go to Mexico this summer for three months to discover the origin of the universe.  I want you both to come with me."

Without thought or question, we both said, "yes."  "My name is Eileen," she said, then got up and went back to waiting tables with the morning breakfast crowd, all people she seemed to know.   

 The following week, I drove down to Santa Fe from Taos, and walked along the river with Eileen as she told me of her young daughter, and repeated her intention to find the origin of the universe.  She said she had been the owner of the restaurant for nine years, and it would "sell it next week."

 One week later, I returned to the restaurant to visit with Eileen, and talk of Mexico.  It had been sold and no one knew where Eileen was. They had not seen her in a week, and they too, wondered  where she might be.  I found her apartment, yet no one had seen her. 

Although expecting to, we did not go to Mexico to find the origin of the universe.  The mystery trip did not happen.  Several years later, I awoke one morning knowing what that was all about. I realized that whomever Eileen was, where she had come from, or where she had gone, I did not need to know.  Instead, I found myself unexpectedly noticing and discovering the origin of my daily thoughts, my judgments of others, and seamlessly opening to an awareness of an endless universe that, if it had an origin, I didn't need to know it.  I even wondered about how there could be an origin to anything?  What would be before the orgin? 

PHANTOM HEARTS

We are learning to not know, to believe that the world works without making it work, controlling it, or making any sense whatsoever.  In the last three days. three people have come into my life via email, phone and in person,  that were right on the edge. 

Our job, as people, is to listen.  Simply listen with all of "our selves".  Not the words, just
the listening and being there and being part of the other.   I too, do not know what I am doing, or what is next or if there is a next.  Carlos Castaneda, at a training in Mexico City, some years ago, started the session with of 1500 people  with the words: "For the next four days, suspend your need for anything to make sense, be logical or in any way, linear."

There is an energy that is specific and felt, separate from defining, or talking about jobs, being in Los Angeles with eight million people and finding love and kindness everywhere, as well as jack knifed trucks on freeways causing traffic to back up seven miles for hours. 
We keep showing up, you and I, finding ourselves a bit more each week. 

We are stepping back from old beliefs we did not know we carried and carried us.  We disrupt the world around us, disturb others, yet all we are doing, is listening to our sometmes phantom hearts. 

THE ELDER: OUR ORIGINAL SELF

Is there something beyond the everyday world?  Beyond the universe?  Beyond everyday newscasts and wars?  Beyond how we have been taught to live our lives, raise children, believe only certain ways?

Is the everyday world the only one that is real and to be lived?  Are all religions and beliefs true, or does it matter whether something is true or not.  Do I need to be right, ever?  What if it does not matter to me whether I am right or not?  Or you are right or not?  I mean, what if I step out of that room where everyone takes a position, stands by a belief, insisting that I see and believe the same thing?

What if it doesn't matter to me to be right or wrong, or neither?  I wonder about the beliefs and expectations that I carry, that often separate me from others, creating an endless circle of continued dialogue.

My son told me, at the age of eight, "There is no such thing as time." He wasn't giving me a lesson, he just said it as he walked beside me throwing pebbles into the lake.  I didn't question him.  I just took it in.  He and other children, over the years, have said things that require I suspend my linear mind, my need to have anything make sense or be logical.  Actually, I consciously decided, a few years ago, to access my original self before I went to school and learned to be someone else. 

My original self, the one writing this, no longer needs to have anything make sense.  Instead, I have discovered the "elder" within me.  The "elder"  is a part of me, and always has been, that just knows things without having to seek approval or confirmation from others. 

The elder transcends age.  She or he is not about age, nor life experience, not even educational experiences.  The "elder" is more about instinct, intuition, not having to be right or wrong, and simply knows stuff, more like a Shaman or medicine woman, at least my perception of shamans and medicine people.  

The elder sees the truth of things, just like little children sense who is present and real, and who is being nice and appropriate.  Children see the truth of things, always, yet words tend to minimize what is sensed and felt.  The elder part of us all, I believe, is connected to all other elder parts around the world. 

My son came to me in a dream prior to his birth and simply said,"I don't need you to be with me.  I need you to be with yourself. When you are with yourself, you are with me."  He could have signed off in the dream with "the elder."  Elders don't need to

INVISIBLE TREE

Being here in Los Angeles is a chance to practice meditation all the time, 24 hours, especially on the freeways where trillions of cars all congregate to go back and forth, at high speeds, heading in all directions, including through each other, and sometimes traveling on their rooftops, passed by high speed motorcycles creating their own lanes, zipping past only to sacrifice one of their own daily on some freeway, somewhere, not slowing down for death, or injury, or even concrete walls.

So i am transcending my frustration on these roads of glory for meditation practice, flexibility and trust in some higher being, even higher than myself if I must have a hierarchy of beings.  Today, driving down a four-lane mountain road, my son in the passenger seat, coming around a curve with a truck on one side of me, blocking any exit in that direction, a fallen tree suddenly appeared in front of me, blocking my lane, leaving me no way, I thought, to escape accident, broken bones and a crunched car.  

I could not avoid the tree without turning directly into the truck to my left and crashing.  As in the movies, I must have transcended earthly rules, and driven through the tree, huge trunk and all.  I did not hit the truck, did not change lanes, and I have no earthly, logical explanation, except we must have gone "through" the tree like an invisible wall from Matrix. A gap in time, A breath taking event that has no explanation and simply left us both in a sense wonder. "That is not possible," my logical, linear, make sense, mind told me,  But we did.  My son and I looked at each other with no words, continuing down the road in silence.

THE CELL PHONE

My cell phone rang and I answered it. I was sitting with my son in an outdoor restaurant, talking and eating, and being together.  The phone rang and I answered it, something I rarely  do. 

As I listened and talked for two minutes on the phone, I noticed the expression on my son's face change, into what I interpreted, as disappointment. The conversation ended and I asked "what's happening?"  

"We were being together and eating," he replied.  "When you answered the phone, everything changed.  Being together came to a halt.  The fun of our time together was gone."  My instant thought was to notice how often I see people staring at their hands holding some device, appearing to be distant from those around them. 

I started to explain and justify then stopped immediately, appreciating that he felt safe enough to tell me something that could be perceived as too sensitive. 

"I'm sorry," I said.  "I did do that.  I left you.  I did not need to answer it.  I never answer the phone when with someone, and this time I did.  I broke the joy we were having. and disconnected from you."

I thanked him for telling me the impact that phone event had on him.  It could seem like a minor incident. But it's not. 

BEING BORN

I came into this world in Brooklyn, New York a few years ago.  I wasn't in any hurry after being born.  I had no particular plan in mind. I was really a good person at birth.  Still am. I wasn't aware of rules or certain behaviors expected of me, yet I was pretty flexible, trusting those around me to keep me from falling off high places, eating stuff that didn't fit in my mouth, or crawling in places that I didn't fit.

I wasn't a sinner.  Really,  I wasn't.  I wasn't bad needing to be made good.  I just wasn't.  I was curious.  I questioned everything.  Actually, I didn't think much, I just did stuff.  My mind was only a part of me, so thinking didn't get in the way of laughing, drooling and reaching out to people.   That is just what I did.  

I never thought I was wrong or right, or good or bad.I just was.  I never thought of hurting anyone, or even wanting to.  I'm not sure where I came from before I crawled or pushed my way out of my mom. 

Why am I telling you all this?  I think I know.  Not sure.  I think I want everyone to know that all little babies, and new borns, and growing little ones, when seen and embraced with awe and wonder, no matter their age, will bring out that same wonder and awe in those around them.  Big people will be free to play, feel deeply, laugh, hug and follow the rules of their heart. Real freedom.  I will be seen as your gift, and a sort of guide
to be silent inside, less busy and hurried, a sort of baby guru.  A wise being masquerading as just a little baby.   How simple. How Freeing.   

WHAT IS RIGHT ABOUT CHILDREN?

What is right about children?  I mean totally right?  Who are these little people that come in to our lives in a variety of ways?  They show up emerging from a mother.  They show up in restaurants, on playgrounds, in school rooms...everywhere.

They tend to run around a lot, create sounds that can be welcome or disturbing.  They have no limits to energy, laughter, play, spontaniety, limitless imagination, and trust. 

Who are these people that surround us in our homes, our daily lives, and in our thoughts and minds?  Why are they here?  We know why we are here, but why are "they" here?  Why do some big people welcome them with hugs, smiles, endless, wondrous play, even joy?  Why do some big people, parent or not, seem disturbed by their behavior, sounds, playfulness or inability to follow rules made up by the big people? 

I have an answer.  I think these little people in our lives, and out in public, are us.  They are the us we left behind, or at some point, went into hiding, when the big people in our daily lives, instructed us how to behave, to be silent, to speak only things that made sense, were logical and followed the beliefs yet to be questioned. 

I think our reaction to children, no matter their age, comes from beliefs not our own.  Beliefs that we took on believing others knew best on what a young human being is supposed to be.  We didn't know any better.  We sought out order, peace and fitting in with the adults in our lives.   The adults were passing on to us what they had learned was the right way to be and behave. 

If we got caught in that belief system, unaware we were, we created a curtain between other young people and ourselves.  We might still.  There is always an out to this story.  

Play.  First notice and unravel all the beliefs that keep us separate from children --from ourselves.  Assume that children, naturally, and instinctively, know stuff we are to learn from them.  Or rather, re-learn from them.  By Being with them completely. 

Big people do not need to control children.  We do not need to assume that they know nothing until we teach them.  We can assume we are the ones that can free ourselves from seeing the little ones as less than us.  We can assume, just for the heck of it, that they are showing us how to open our arms to everyone in the world, to require less control over others and our environment.  We can recover the us that still exists, wanting out,
wanting connection, wanting to care for everyone.   Wanting to engage.   

WHAT IS RIGHT ABOUT CHILDREN?

What is right about children?  I mean totally right?  Who are these little people that come in to our lives in a variety of ways?  They show up emerging from a mother.  They show up in restaurants, on playgrounds, in school rooms...everywhere.

They tend to run around a lot, create sounds that can be welcome or disturbing.  They have no limits to energy, laughter, play, spontaniety, limitless imagination, and trust. 

Who are these people that surround us in our homes, our daily lives, and in our thoughts and minds?  Why are they here?  We know why we are here, but why are "they" here?  Why do some big people welcome them with hugs, smiles, endless, wondrous play, even joy?  Why do some big people, parent or not, seem disturbed by their behavior, sounds, playfulness or inability to follow rules made up by the big people? 

I have an answer.  I think these little people in our lives, and out in public, are us.  They are the us we left behind, or at some point, went into hiding, when the big people in our daily lives, instructed us how to behave, to be silent, to speak only things that made sense, were logical and followed the beliefs yet to be questioned. 

I think our reaction to children, no matter their age, comes from beliefs not our own.  Beliefs that we took on believing others knew best on what a young human being is supposed to be.  We didn't know any better.  We sought out order, peace and fitting in with the adults in our lives.   The adults were passing on to us what they had learned was the right way to be and behave. 

If we got caught in that belief system, unaware we were, we created a curtain between other young people and ourselves.  We might still.  There is always an out to this story.  

Play.  First notice and unravel all the beliefs that keep us separate from children --from ourselves.  Assume that children, naturally, and instinctively, know stuff we are to learn from them.  Or rather, re-learn from them.  By Being with them completely. 

Big people do not need to control children.  We do not need to assume that they know nothing until we teach them.  We can assume we are the ones that can free ourselves from seeing the little ones as less than us.  We can assume, just for the heck of it, that they are showing us how to open our arms to everyone in the world, to require less control over others and our environment.  We can recover the us that still exists, wanting out,
wanting connection, wanting to care for everyone.   Wanting to engage. 

MOODS: CHANGING THEM

 I think that it is possible to change and shift perceptions moment to moment with a clear intent to do so.  I think we can be in charge of changing our moods, and fretting, and worry.   I think that it is not only possible, but easy. 

In the past, I had come to believe many things that I no longer am trapped by.  I can now move from anger to listening.  I can step back from reacting if I want to.  I can hold space for you or anyone, rather than make them wrong, if I decide to.

I can free myself from being at the effect of people around me......all the time.  I can always always be aware.   

Our bodies have taken on the habits and familiar responses to everything, and even our cellular parts have absorbed the belief that this is "the only way to be, feel and react."   How silly, me thinks.

Anytime I notice (and notice is the key word), that I am tense, not breathing, running a familiar scene in my head, I can pause, breath and do something different.....like hold space for what is taking place without reacting.   That would be acting from the Tao, the spirit, the sacred way.  And shifting my familiar justified feeling to simply being present, can feel like climbing the highest mountain, barefoot, in the snow, in the dark, hungry and scared and naked.

 We already do this some of the time, don't we?  Yes, we do.Just need more reminder.   All the interactions with people, the discomforts, the disturbances, the blame and frustration and judgment of ourselves, is what we learned from the everyday world.

I and we can step back from that learning every day, every moment.By writing this to you, I am writing this to me.   As Jonah said to me in Taos, "You think I am standing in front of you.  I am standing behind you so that you can learn about this part of yourself." 

Maybe that is what Love looks like.   It is less a romantic thing then a way of being. 

FREE FROM BEING RIGHT

We can end and dissolve personal conflicts with anyone immediately.  Conflict ends when one person steps back.  Deciding that I do not have to be right, defend my position, or explain my actions, can end any conflict, or simply avoid the conflict.   

I do not give up anything.  I do not win or lose anything.  I do not shy away from confrontation.  I simply decide I do not have to be right. Instead, I replace my familiar need to defend, explain and make my point, with listening and hearing the other person, determined to see "through their eyes" seeing what they are seeing, believing and feeling.  

 We can leave behind the learned process of standing our ground, and holding an emotional position, even though every physical body sensation, and reaction, is to do what we have always done.....make sure we are right and understood.  

  Or, the inspiration to be free of old stories, need to react, or even be understood, can bring immediate emotional relief, a lightness of tension, and bring inspiration to do it again, with the next potential conflict. 

  Adding the ingredient of holding no expectation of others, and a willingness to be free of making someone else wrong, or placing blame, brings immediate internal peace.  And more often, if not expected, the other person will join you, releasing their need to be right, and apprecaite having been heard, maybe for the first time in their life.  They might even apologize, or not.  Why practice this?  To be a bit more connected to others, no matter who they are. 

EVERYTHING IS FICTION

Some years ago while sitting in a coffee shop in Taos, New Mexico, writing a book I did not know would be published, a man and his wife walked by my table.  I recognized him as a well-known famous writer of books and screen plays, yet I was so completely absorbed in my laptop screen, lost in a story, that I did not completely take in his celebrity.  If I had, I might have been intimidated or a bit shy.

"Are you writing fiction or non-fiction,” this celebrity person asked.  Without thinking, I replied, "Isn't everything fiction?”  Surprised by my answer, he turned to his wife and I heard him say, "God, he's right. He’s right."  I went back to typing the flow of words emerging from somewhere within me.  For a moment, I was impressed by myself for coming up with that most clever response.

Ten years later, today, I was sitting in a coffee shop in Portland, Oregon, writing what seems to be transitioning into a book.  A man with a beard, and appearing to be a street person, or at least fitting my stereotype of a street person, sat down on the stool beside me. The smell of a cigarette smoker filled the space around me. 

“Hi,” he said, looking in my direction.  I noticed my quiet judgment of him, and at first, felt disturbed.  He sensed my thought.  “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to disturb you," he said. “Go on and do your work.”  Hearing him, I paused and stopped typing.  I turned to face him directly. “You know, people are more important than machines.  I’m sorry.  I’m glad you are here and we can talk together.”  He smiled, revealing some missing teeth.  “Today is my birthday,” he replied. “I’m 50 today, and Starbucks has given me a free coffee drink, pastry and anything I want today.” He paused.  “Are you a writer?" he asked.

"Yes, sometimes I write."

"Are you writing fiction or non-fiction?" he asked, as though he knew the history of that question.  "Isn't everything fiction?" I replied.  We stared at each other.  His facial expression gradually transformed into a knowing smile, as though he knew the truth of those words.  I no longer felt a distance between us. He knew.  I knew.  “Thank you,” he said, then stood up, excused himself and went outside for a smoke. 

BEING HEARD: A GIFT

I went to a psychologist once. I was emotionally desperate, and few around me could listen to hear my short story of desperation.  Friends tried to listen.  They cared.  They wanted to help me feel better.  I felt their desire to soften my dilemma, to be kind, to care.  For some, to fix me.

I decided to pay, for the first time, to see a psychologist person named Alan Button.  For eight weeks, one hour per week, I walked into his welcoming office, and for fifty minutes, I walked back and forth, never sitting, sharing whatever came to me, always moving on my feet.

I could sense his listening, really listening, seeing me through my eyes, holding space for me to express, explore, and discover. Eight weeks went by, and Alan never asked a question. Not one question   Yet, he was totally present every moment. I could feel it, without knowing I was feeling it.  I didn't use the word "present" then, I only sensed it.
 

On the eighth week, I spontaneously said, "Alan, I'm done." He smiled, put aside his note pad, walked over to where I stood,  embraced me with a warm full hug.  I melted into his arms, complete.  No more words.  Still embracing each other, he whispered,  "Bruce, you’re the most self actualized person I’ve ever met." 

 I didn't know what that meant, yet I sensed it was a compliment.  His gift was to see into me, separate from my words and story.  He was with me, an ally, their to be of service.  His only agenda was to be completely present, and trusting--- allowing me, like most people, to have the quiet space and silence to self discover. 

Thirty years later, having had no contact with each other, I called him.  Now 85, he remembered our time together decades earlier.  I told him the impact and influence he'd had in my life, and how I learned to deeply, authentically listen as he did, allowing others to explore without interference, or my need to diagnose or fix.  

We were silent together.  He cried.  I learned he had written a book in the 1970's, The Authentic Child. 

 

WONDER

I wonder about everything.  I wonder who created God.  Who created the creator of God?  I wonder why we are all here on this planet, how did we get here, who or what runs things?  Why am I even writing this for others to read?  Who are children, really?  Are they really in need of being trained, raised, educated, contained, graded, judged and seen as products required to follow the rules of others taller and older and bigger then them? 
I wonder about this stuff.  Always have.

Who is crazy?  I mean, are the diagnosed people crazy? I don't know.  Are the adults in the world that order bombings of other cities, people and countries crazy? I don't know.  I wonder.  Not all the time.  Just some of the time, when I am not busy doing stuff that keeps me busy.

Is declaring yourself an atheist the same as declaring yourself a Christian, a Jew, Muslim, Buddhist, or Morman?  Is my belief more believable than yours?  I wonder about all this.  What settles part of the wonder is the decision to believe everything. 

I mean, wonder has no limits nor borders.  I don't have to believe anything, or I can believe everything.  Wonder is beyond what to believe, or what is true.   Maybe, just maybe, I make everything up, and this is all a dream, and I wake up at the point people refer to as death.  And even death, could simply be another layer of wonder. 

DEPARMTENT STORE BOY

I was in a department store today. A little boy about five was being held against a wall by his dad.  The dad kept insisting the boy take a three-minute Time Out, then he would be released.  The boy squirmed to get away, using his voice the best he could.

The father seemed to believe he needed to be in charge.  Inside me, I became that little boy.  I did not want to be over powered in that way.  Minutes went by as the father held the boy tight, quietly demanding the time out.  "I want mommy," the boy repeated.  His dad told him he could see mommy if he was still for the three minutes.

I looked for ways to interrupt the conflict without being harmed.  I simply witnessed, attempting to make eye contact with the boy. He seemed powerless, wanting to be free.  I knew that if the dad had joined the boy at his level, held him close, not having to be right, the conflict could have dissolved.  

I waited until I found my own calmness, and clear intention.  Without more thought, I walked over to the father and stood close enough to ask, in a neutral but strong voice, "Do you have the time?"  He was slightly startled as he removed his hands from the boy, paused to take out his phone, look at the time, and said, "10:48."  His hands remained  at his side, the boy relaxed and was quiet.  The conflict ended.  Everyone quieted.  They

walked away.   

THE COIN

I held my hands out in front of me, one of the hands holding a coin, hidden by a closed fist.  I asked the eight-year-old girl to guess which hand held the coin. She scanned both hands, deciding which hand held the coin.   I stood still and silent. She wondered for another minute, then pointed to my right hand.  "Not there," she said, slightly disappointed. 

I moved my hands behind my back again to to hide which hand held the coin.  This time, with my hands still behind me, I told her “to not guess”-- to not try to figure it out----to not have to be right.  Instead, "Let your instinct, and your body point to the hand.  Allow yourself to be wrong, and trust your body to select the hand with the coin.  Let it not matter.  Just point instantly.

Most of us learned to try hard to be right. to pick the right one of anything,  Embarrassed if we are wrong.   I encouraged her to go beyond guessing, and let her body just point, without hesitation, as soon as I show my hands. 

She did it.  Without a second of hesitation, she instantly pointed to the hand with the coin.  Again and again, ten more times in a row, she transcended her mind's need to be right, and instead, instantly pointed to the hand with the coin.  We were both elated.  We were done. 

Later, with a hidden coin in one of her hands, she calmly instructed another young person to "let your body choose which hand I hold a coin." 

DREAM BEFORE BIRTH

Two months before his birth, our now twenty-year-old son came to me in a dream.  While still in the dream, slightly awake, I reached for the small tape recorder.  I was aware enough to know the dream needed to be recorded.   

It was only when I was fully awake and transcribing the words the next day---- words that filled two typewritten pages, single space, that my life, and understanding of children would be altered forever.  The information was explicit, direct, and universal.  Later, I was inspired to write: Free The Children, a book later published. 

 “I am coming here to help dissolve the artificial barriers between people,” he said in the dream.  “I wll have a name when you, my mother and I see each other equally,” he continued.  Four years passed before a name appeared.  I noticed, during those pre-name years, when I was seeing him as just a child.  I quickly changed my perception to see him fully as a whole person.  Until the name came, we called him little person, sweet face, or little one. Still do actually. 

Without ever sharing the dream with him, (he wasn't interested).  I continue to witness how his simple presence brings people together.  He quietly stands for everyone, and takes no sides.  I have learned to do the same.  When I am trapped by old learned beliefs and fears about education, money or "think of your future"thoughts, I silently soften, remembering the final words of the dream, "“I do not need you to be with me.  I need youto be with yourself.  When you are with yourself, you are with me."     

CHILDREN ARE US

Children are us.  They are not simply out there in little bodies, or teenage bodies.  They are us.  They didn't come here to disturb anyone, or inconvenience the adults around them.  Not the parents.  Not the teachers, Not anyone.  They did not get born, nor did we, to become consumers, trouible makers, cute beings to buy things for, or become recipients of rules chores and grades.  They just didn't.  Neither did we.

Who knew our lives would become based on grades, regulations, time schedules. accumulation of stuff, and ultimately expected to gather money as a gardner would gather seed.  At birth, most of us came into this particular world with a sense of wonder, and often even a smile.  We were just born into a world unknown, and into a family that wondered about who we were as much as we wondered about who they were. 

 Children are physically smaller than the impact they have on big people.  Children really are us.  When we were small, the original us, walking or not, we were gradually nudged towards absorbing layers of identities, becoming like those around us,  As we grew into bigger bodies, we were surrounded by beliefs and thoughts not our own. 

I think that little us is still totally present.  She and he show up in the form of tatoos, dance, sillyness, compassion, kindness, kisses, hugs, tears and those moments of uninhibited reaching out to strangers to say hi!

GOOD ENOUGH

I have to tell you the truth.  I am not a consumer.  I am not a recluse, nor introverted,  nor extroverted.  I am not too sensitive, too smart, nor too anything.  I am just right for who I am.  I can say this, yet our language tends to define, name, classify and pathologize behavior from birth on.  There is no one to blame. Oh well, maybe just a little bit.  But then, blame is another learned behavior    

What if I decide, which I have, to simply be with people, especially children, being present, noticing when I am about to classify, or label them.  Are children "fussy" or are they uncomfortable, needing something?  I feel lighter and freer when I delete all the naming of what appears wrong, missing or needs improvement with others, or self.

There is a system and habit of carrying voices inside of us that constantly find fault with ourselves, and a belief that whatever we do in life, is never quite good enough.  I could explain how all this self judgment, and judgment of others came to exist.  But doesn’t matter.  I know it separates us all.  I just want to hang out with people, care about them: children, women, men, gay, straight, neither.....that have a sense of humor, can speak of things you cannot prove, are not logical, not even part of what appears to be reality, (consensus reality).  Just hold space for everyone.

It is more fun to look for what is right about everything even when it seems so wrong, and learn to see myself in others. 

COMPASSION FROM HATRED

When I was five-years-old, our family lived in Utica, New York.  I was walking to my first day of school, swinging my lunch box as I skipped down the sidewalk, anticipating my unknown new adventure.  I was happy.

Across the street, I heard a creaky screen door slam shut.  I turned to see another boy about my age running towards me,his face red with anger.  From his sidewalk, he screamed, hatred in his voice,  "Get out of our neighborhood you dirty Jew.  We hate you." 

I didn't know what a Jew was, even though I later found out I was one.  My body could only begin to cry, turn around and run two blocks to our home.  I ran up the wooden stairs, into my room and threw myself on the bed, hiding my head under the pillow, sobbing. 

Weeks later, we moved to Los Angeles, where within a few years I found myself in high school, a school occupied by lots of students of color, white people, and a whole variety of religions and economicdiversity.   Utica was behind me until one day, I found myself standing up for a Latino student who was being harrssed.   It was an instinct on my part.

Later, as a new high school teacher, that same instinct inspired me to reveal racism by the administration.  I was soon terminated, but the institutional racism ended.   The angry anti-semitic boy in Utica, when I was five, was a gift.  I got to feel deeply and access my compassion….finding ways to bring people together…even today. 

WHO WE REALLY ARE

A resolution to love oneself.  What a good idea.  When people I know, or come to know,
no matter their age, step back from there public selves, the part that others easily see, often they silently reveal a need to love themselves, and are judgmental of who they think they are and what they have done.  No matter how much money they have, what they have done in life, whether famous or not, they carry a belief deep down that they are not good enough, no matter what. 

It's a cultural thing.  It's a religious thing.  It's a school thing, something we all learn: that no matter what we do, or who we are, we tend to believe we are never quite good enough.  Not true, but it is a common belief. 

As we come to remember who we are inside, the us that was born innocent and kind and connected to everyone, we exhale and remember the truth.  What happens when someone sees, really sees you, or I, inside, behind the personality and that public self we have learned to display, to be part of what some may refer to as consensus reality?
 
Instead of the term loving oneself, I suggest a different term, or words.  Instead of loving myself, I listen to myself.  I pay attention to familiar feelings and beliefs that separate me from others....feelings that only exist in the body, not the mind.  I can tune into that feeling sensation (for seconds or a minute) that remind me to show up now, be present, be aware of the familiar pattern that I have reacted to since a child. 

Loving myself is all about awareness.  Self awareness. Aware of all my body sensations, feelings and thoughts that accompany that feeling, then take a different action.   The actions include being silent instead of reacting.  Feeling a feeling without need to explain it or speak of it.

And, only speak when I can be heard.  Only then.  Notice when I am judging, making someone else wrong, blaming, and then simply and quietly let them be in my mind.   Maybe this is loving others, an action that I can take daily.  From this perspective, I don't need to love myself.  Not when I am loving others more often.  Loving them means letting them be in my thoughts.  Then I am not loving myself, I am simply being.  It's a practice.
A daily, hourly practice.  

COMING HOME

I think we all ought to come together: meaning becoming more inclusive, welcoming others into our homes and lives, especially our children no matter their age.  This individual, separate, find a career, move away from family or people you love being around, to do it on your own, be independent, earn lots of money, own a home, save for the future, take sides in conflicts and politics and decide who is right and who is wrong, simply goes in circles, leaving me or you constantly searching out something better or more than we have, holding a belief that whatever we do, is never quite good enough, wanting whatever it is we do not have, often unaware that what we have now is what we wanted before.

Just what if we believed that friends, people we know that are easy to be with, mothers, fathers,
grandparents, children, all thought it would be a good thing to live in one home, or close by in a neighborhood, knowing that there is a satisfying bigger community then just a city with people spread out all over, or even states away, staying connected only by phone or email, yet deeply heartfully
longing for daily connection, familiarity, love, and the beauty of being cared about, and caring for
those around us, frequently, daily, all the time, an awareness that as humans, or as most creatures on land and sea,  (money can fill banks), while people can touch one another, calm fears, open hearts and dissolve most symptoms of the body and mind......living amongst each other in close proximity, with others that have noticed the relative peacefulness of knowing we matter.  We simply matter.