Remaining in the Womb ...

Perhaps if we saw what was ahead of us,

and glimpsed the follies, and misfortunes

that would befall us later on,

we would all stay in our mother's wombs.

Lemony Snicket

When I was a young adult, it was probably a good thing I did not know what was loitering in the hallways of this classroom called life.  As a seasoned adult, I look back and wonder how I had the resilience to accomplish all that I have.  


If we were given an itinerary at birth, and applied organizational skills and well thought out goals with outcomes, we certainly would still fall short of the expected mark.  How could we possibly maintain focus for all of time?


I do not believe we are predestined, that there is a specific detailed profile for us as we have freedom of choice which allows us to stray all over the map. I do believe there is a gentle outline of expectations or lessons we need to learn with a variety of ways to accomplish this.  I sometimes have compared my life to a billiard game where I am the ball bouncing off one post into another until I reach the needed destination.

And what about second chances?  If I were shown all of the errors of my ways and given another chance at life, certainly I would not make the same mistakes ... I'd end up making new ones ... and maybe they would be worse than the first!

It is a good thing I do not have control over the mechanics of this existence named life.  I believe Spirit allows me to wander from my intended path, yet ultimately I am guided back to where I need to be.  Sometimes it seems as though I am on a scavenger's hunt, collecting parts of myself from one place and then another. 

I do not believe I would have preferred to remain in the womb.  I don't do well in crowded places and need to be out in the sun. I am fairly impatient and get bored if I cannot relax into walking or reading.  And good grief, how would I write or worse yet, talk!  No, life has unfolded better outside of the womb.

One Unsuspecting Day

You cannot forget if you would

those golden kisses

all over the cheeks of the meadow,

queerly called dandelions.

Henry Ward Beecher

Liberal US Congregational minister

1813-1887

I admire the determination of the dandelion, determined to break through the crack in the sidewalk or appear in the midst of a pile of rocks.  I believe dandelions are like God or Spirit. They never give up, always push through, and poke up in the strangest of places.  The same could be said for the human spirit.

Most adults become disgruntled over the discovery of a beautiful yellow dandelion growing in the yard.   Yard keepers struggle in an attempt to grow a delicate flower, but easily wipe out this sturdy bud of yellow with harsh chemicals. On the other side, watch the face of any child fill with glee upon picking this little indestructible flower.  Danelions are frequently a mother's first bouquet.

I have never considered this bright yellow burst of joy to be a weed.  I like how it is thickly tufted and soft to the touch.  I remember as a child rubbing a dandelion under a friend's chin to see whether or not they loved someone. If the chin turned yellow, then validation was secured!

As in all things, however, the beautiful flower ages.  The head of the flower thins and eventually turns white.  I like to take the time to examine this flower at this stage, as an intricate pattern can be found displayed. 

And isn't this just like our lives as well?  In our youth so strong and vibrant and then we slowly advance to a delicate ball of fluff.  I make this observation kindly and mean no disrespect at all.  In time one grows comfortable with the idea that one day, one unsuspecting day, Spirit will gently pick me up and blow all my cares away.

I'd Like To Dance

Listening to your heart is not simple.

Finding out who you are is not simple.

It takes a lot of hard work

to get to know who you are

and what you want.

Sue Bender

The premature arrival of spring warms my face and heart.  For the first time in a long time, I feel my inner self awaken with stirrings of new growth.  I must have been frozen in time during the winter, and I believe the ice is beginning to thaw.

Heavy coats are no longer needed for protection and by taking off my hat, my ears are hearing much more clearly.  And without the bitter cold winter winds, my eyes have a much brighter perspective. 

The sweet sounds of spring are encouraging me to accept the challenge and to master the lesson so new seeds can be planted this spring.  My face embraces the sun and its warmth heals all that needs to be forgiven ... especially my own doings.

There is freedom when I cast my shoes aside and place my bare feet on the greening grass.  Joy pumps up through me, and quite honestly ... I'd like to dance.

Beautiful and Brave

Perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses who are only

waiting to see us once beautiful and brave.

Rainer Maria Rilke

This morning I opened my eyes becoming happy with sun

shining through the bedroom window.  I listened to the birds in

the bush chirping away with some deliberate clip, repeating it

over and over.  Did the birds think I would understand what 

they were saying if they repeated it enough?  Trudy, our Tuxedo cat jumped up on my bed, looking at me as though she

were wondering why I was still lounging in my pajamas.  She too was curious with the birds so she sat at the head of the bed, 

nose pressed to the window trying to see them.  She looked at me and began her cat language which I didn't understand either.  She became very insistent in her 'meow' as though surely I was not so stupid as to to not understand.

 I closed my eyes again, and visualized a lovely brook with crystal clear water rippling over marbled pebbles.  I listened to the gurgling water and the sounds communicated a peaceful feeling within.  Freely I breathed in life and easily breathed out what was troubling me.

We are bombarded by messages all day long and actually all night long.  The information comes to us from the media, our jobs, family and friends, plus everything surrounding us.  Our dreams bring us information as well as our thoughts.  In science there is discovery of telepathic communication between animals and we know there is telepathy between humans.  Is much of our thinking just rethinking acquired thought and how much of it is is obtained through the concept of collective thinking?  What percentage is original thought?

The other day a friend was sharing some information she had written in her younger years.  She was laughing as the same material was now published by a different author and identical to her own.  Do we all have access to the same information stored within and we simply don't excavate it? 

Sometimes I visualize Universal Intelligence or Divine shaking a formless head as I once again don't get the message.  I see this All Knowing Spirit communicating to surrounding angels saying, "No, we need to try something else.  She didn't get that either!"  Then they devise a new way of once again presenting the information to me.

How many messages do we miss?  How many opportunities float by us without us giving them the smallest glimpse?  How much inspiration falls by the way side as we fear our dragons rather than embracing the sweet voices of princesses waiting to ignite our passion?  

At what point in life are we willing 

to become beautiful and brave?

Uplift The Heavy Soul

Creative ideas, in my opinion, show their value in that,
like keys, they help to "unlock" hitherto unintelligible connections of facts and thus enable man to penetrate deeper into the mystery of life.

M. L. von Franz

CONCLUSION:  MAN AND HIS SYMBOLS, by C. G. Jung

To watch a musician perform or to observe an artist in the depths of artistic expression, it is obvious he or she is caught in another world.  An athlete would call it 'being in the zone' or a spiritual writer might refer to it as 'being in the flow'.  Either way, a person who 'gets lost in work or play' seem to be distracted from the mundane and opened to the mystery of life.

We are not all highly evolved artists nor do we all have degrees in psychology, but we all have been using the art of creative distraction throughout our lives. 

As a young mother of four, if I wanted to know what was going on in my children's lives, I would have a snack prepared.  As soon as they entered the house, they would gather around the table.  As they gobbled up their treats, I would gently ask them questions and successfully receive answers normally not disclosed under interrogation.  If I were concerned about one child in particular, I would invite him or her to color with me or help to prepare dinner.

When we know a friend is troubled, we invite them to lunch or an outing in nature or perhaps the shopping mall.  Being physically distracted, our emotions release more easily.  

If we engage in a creative project, it distracts us from our worries and self-expression flows with a higher energy.  We escape the present concerns, and focus on the moment suspended from our pressing issues.

This holds true in therapy with children.  Play therapy is a wonderful tool for enabling the therapist to become a part of the child's world where more natural conversation can unfold without the child feeling pressured.   

Many years ago, I kept a cat at my counseling office for this very purpose ... distraction.  The cat would invariably sit on the client's lap and he or she would gently begin to stroke the purring feline.  This physical movement distracted the brain or ego, allowing the person to express more fully.  The gentle vibration of the purring seemed to relax and calm even those who had very little appreciation for animals.

So once again we come across another resource to support and nurture ourselves without financial investment or month ahead scheduling.  When we find

ourselves overwhelmed, saddened, or disconnected, we can easily use a means of self-expression giving the mysteries of life the opportunity to uplift the heavy soul.