Finding Safety & Security – Day 169

Box Turtle – Photo: L.Weikel

Question and Answer

I recently received an email from someone who’s been reading my posts. They asked me a question, and since I feel the question could be something lots of people might wonder, I thought I would share my answer.

Reader’s Question:

“Hi Lisa, I’ve been reading your posts and website, and it seems that we have many common pet peeves. I was wondering how you deal with them and where you find the strength. In general, I just feel that life is filled with torment. Where do you find safety and security?”

– JF (edited only slightly to remove possible identifying details)

My Answer:

“Dear JF,

First off, thanks so much for taking the time to read my posts and website.

Interesting question you pose. Where do I find safety and security. I guess my first response would be “in my connection with Mother Earth.”

As I’ve cultivated my ability to listen (and yes, there really is something to the sentience of all beings, including those that humans consider ‘just animals’ or even ‘inanimate’ – and they really are willing to communicate with us), I realize and know, deep down, that I’m not alone. And not only comfort but guidance is available to us.

We just need to learn how to ask for connection and cultivate our ability to See and Hear in new ways.

As we raise our energy and awareness, we really do start to see things in a new way. All of this may sound like a bunch of b.s., but I’m living it. And I’m doing my best to share the magic with others who are ready to shift their awareness.

Have you read my book yet? The experiences I had in that book were back in the early 90s. I’d never even taken a shamanic journey during the slice of my life that I describe in that book. So basically, Owl Medicine describes me at the beginning of this life-long journey.

If I did not have the world (and beyond-world) perspective that I cultivated over the past 30 years or so, I doubt I would have come through the experience of the death of my son in the way I have. Of course, it’s a process. And I still have my moments. But there is so much more beyond what we accept as reality. And I know that because I’ve experienced it directly.

As you can tell from reading my blog, though – I still get really freaked out and pissed off at the unconsciousness of so many. But wallowing in that for too long only brings me down. My task, as I understand it, is to raise my own energy up and trust that those who are ready to raise theirs will respond to my message, and my “Work,” and join me.

We can’t change the world, but we can shift our own selves and perspectives and then everything and everyone around us has to shift too (or fall away).

Don’t know if this makes sense, but…

I’m really glad you wrote!”

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I just want to mention that I chose the Torment card (which corresponds to the Devil card in traditional tarot decks) from the Vision Quest Tarot two days in a row, yesterday and today, as Karl and I walked. And I chose Turtle (Mother Earth) – with Beaver (Builder – or ‘doer’) underneath this morning. Given that the word ‘torment’ was used in this question – and my answer was directly related to Mother Earth – it seemed like Beaver was urging me to share this interchange.

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If you enjoyed this glimpse into the way I think (which, let’s face it, you subject yourselves to just by reading my posts anyway), please feel free to help me mix up the format!

Email me a question you may be pondering and I’ll do my best to give you my perspective, which may or may not be predictable, controversial, laughable, or even relatable. I’m not promising I’ll answer every question I receive, but if it’s sincere, I’ll do my best to give it a shot.

I just want all of you reading my words to know yet again how much I appreciate that you take the time to do so. And please: if you read something you enjoy or find interesting or helpful, feel free to share. If I’m going to be dedicating myself to this endeavor for the next 942 days (or more), I might as well seek to be read by as many as possible!

I know I have a core of you who have been sticking with me for 169 days so far. Wow! That’s just so cool. I hope you feel my gratitude.

Photo: recinet.ca

(T-942)

An Interesting Irony – Day 145

 

An Interesting Irony

Well, that’s a title that could lead us anywhere, is it not? Let’s see, there are so many paths I could take. I’ll just tell you where I was going with this:

Cell phones. Good grief, how they have changed our lives – particularly the ‘smart phone’ variety. It really is staggering to contemplate just how much power we hold in our hands every day.

It is weird to think back on the first big huge bulky clunky contraptions that almost needed to be carried with two hands, in big cases, that were incredibly heavy and unwieldy. And the reception? Awful. But if you could afford one of those bad boys, you were cutting edge.

Their First Appearance

Regular cell phones – i.e., ‘flip phones’ and the like, were certainly revolutionary. It was so great to be able to talk to Karl and Maximus when they went off to college and not have to call a pay phone in the hallway of their dorms, or even call a landline in their rooms, although those were still options.

Come to think of it, I may be thinking back to my first year or two in college when I reference pay phones in the hallway of the dorm. Yes…Bigler Hall at Penn State. I don’t know. My memory may be confused. If any of my peeps from back then (Bregettes?) are reading this, perhaps they can refresh my recollection.

Anyway. The actual point I wanted to make tonight had to do with how much our cell phones – and texting in particular – have changed the way we stay in touch with each other, particularly parents and children – and how that has an impact much deeper and wider than just the superficial contact.

My kids are all adults now. With few exceptions it is rare that if I send a text, I do not receive a response. Of course, that’s if it is a text that obviously is requesting or requiring an immediate response.

I rarely request or require an immediate response. But the mere fact that I have the knowledge in the back of my mind that if I really needed them, I could reach them changes my life.

The Blessing and Curse of Instant Access

Having been an exchange student in Sweden back in ’76-’77, I remember all too vividly how different telephonic communication was back then. Wow. It was incredibly special to be able to make a phone call overseas. They were expensive, so it was a very rare treat to be able to hear my mother’s voice.

And yet, that inability to just pick up the phone and communicate instantaneously played a huge role in promoting resilience – and not just on my part as a 17 year old, either. It had to have fostered an amazing amount of trust and fortitude on the part of my parents, too – particularly my mother, as we enjoyed each other’s company and were close. What can she (they, to be fair) possibly have been thinking, sending their 17 year old daughter off to Sweden for a year?

Probably at least part of my love for writing is rooted in the prolific letter-writing I engaged in to keep the thread of energetic connection to my mother intact. And she was great about corresponding with me, too. I was homesick – no doubt about it – but the letters kept me connected. Kept us connected. And I’m not even touching upon the grounding and catharsis that occurs when pen is put to paper…

Do They Promote Independence? Or Dependence?

The difference I see now is that cell phones almost keep us too connected. For instance, a couple weekends ago, Sage and Sarah took a road trip. I would not ordinarily think twice about it, but they called while on the road, and I knew they had a many hours ahead of them. I texted them (both, since I didn’t know who would be driving and who would be riding shotgun) later in the evening, figuring they were about mid-way through their trip.

No response.

OK, I thought. No big deal. Maybe they turned their phones off. (No, I didn’t really think they both did that, but I did entertain it as a possibility just to shut myself up.) Or maybe they were in the midst of an intense conversation, or listening to something really great on the radio. No big deal.

Then a few hours after that, I tried texting again, just to see how far away they were from their destination. Again – no response.

Lost Perspective

It was at this moment that I felt a squiggle of worry pass through me. Worry?! Because my kids in their mid-20s weren’t texting me back, even though we’d chatted earlier in the evening?

How odd. And how objectively ridiculous a feeling. I know that if we did not have the ability to communicate in this way, I would not have thought twice about them (in a worried sense).

I do not like having the question, “Should I be worried?” pass through my body and psyche simply because I cannot instantaneously reach them on their cell phones. And this is especially true given that I didn’t ‘have a bad feeling.’ No. But a ‘bad feeling’ did try mightily to sink its hooks into me when neither of them responded.

Honestly, I checked in with my intuition and got zero sense that I needed to worry, so I didn’t. But it made me think. And reflect.

Self-Reliance

If I’d had a cell phone when I was in Sweden, I wonder if I would have cultivated the self-reliance that I know was probably one of the single greatest benefits I received from living abroad for a year. And I imagine on some level it must have been huge for my mother, too. All she had to go on from one day to the next were my letters. Letters which I’d written probably 7-10 days earlier.

Wow.

There It Is Again

I just realized something. Here I am uncovering yet another way in which trust has played a huge role in my life. Or perhaps more accurately, I’ve isolated some of the greatest circumstances that demanded I hone my abilities of discernment and trust, which have carried forward (and served me well) throughout my entire life. I had to figure out which little worries flitting through my mind and body demanded attention and which ones were just fear of the boring, everyday, mostly-made-up-in-your head variety.

Discernment like that takes practice. And I wonder if the ubiquitous availability of cell phones is stunting the cultivation of this skill in all of us. If it is, how can we cultivate it in other ways?

(T-966)

Commitment – Day Fifty

Commitment

OK, I’ll admit it. I’m pretty much phoning this one in.

I’m nursing a slight headache, I was a little brought down by yet another day full of low hanging clouds and relentless rain, and this is my fiftieth consecutive post!

Actually, that last part makes me smile.

I’m glad I’m sitting up here on my bed, with but minutes to spare before the ball drops and 2019 begins, and I’m writing this.

I find it fascinating that I feel so connected to you; and I do feel that there is a ‘you’ at the other end of this post. There are eyes reading these words. And I’m intrigued by this relationship I feel we’re cultivating.

If I didn’t feel something, I wouldn’t be sitting up here all by myself, writing this. But I’m not all by myself, am I?

Thank you for supporting me energetically and otherwise over the past fifty days.

I’d like to invite each one of you to join me in some form of devotion to yourself in 2019. Maybe contemplate not giving something up as you enter this new year, but rather bringing something in, instead.

Turning off the television and reading for an hour before bed every night.

Keeping a journal and writing at least one page (and preferably three – wink wink), every day.

Drawing or taking a photograph with your phone every single day to document your joy.

Realizing you are loved. And appreciated. Even if it is ‘only’ by yourself.

Thank you for walking beside me. I look forward to 2019 – together.

(T-1061)

Familiars – Day Thirty Three

Familiars

I need to admit something. I just fell asleep. Well, actually, I just woke up after accidentally falling asleep, and realize I have precious little time left to write my post this evening.

My pup, Spartacus, hopped into my lap about an hour ago, tucked himself into the nooks and crannies of my crossed legs, and fell asleep. When he fell asleep, the weight of his muscular Boston Terrier body settled in and he snuggled deeper and deeper. He sighed, and I could tell he was descending into his version of the dreamtime.

The funny thing is, I’ve been looking forward to writing this post all day. Not ‘this’ post specifically, obviously, since this clearly does not have a distinct point or purpose. But I found myself looking forward to reaching out and connecting in this fascinatingly compelling relationship I feel we’re engaging in.

I know some of you are reading my words, somewhere, be it in minutes, hours, or years from now, and I just love that sense. I can’t explain it. That sense of even one other person besides myself reading what I happen to share on this tiny piece of machinery in my lap (which has succeeded in ousting my deliciously warm, loving pup) is…magical.

Familiar? Or Connection?

I started out thinking I would write about my ‘familiars’ ~ my four legged family members who station themselves in such a way as to make me dance around them almost relentlessly, yet are such profound fonts of unconditional love and enthusiastic adoration. But now I’m thinking about you, my readers.

Hmm, what is the connection here? Maybe that’s precisely what it is: connection. With my pups and my kitties, the connection is, naturally, physical. There are words involved, but it’s debatable just how much they actually understand. Sure, they comprehend my tone and probably even facial expressions to an extent, and they certainly can ‘read’ the energy emanating from my entire body, mind, and spirit.

And then there is my connection with those of you who care enough to read my words. But our only connection, really, are those words. There is no shared eye contact, no touch, no warm hugs.

And yet, we’re connected. And it matters, to me at least, that you are there. Receiving my outreach, even if it’s only via words.

Thank you.

(T-1078)

Perspective – Day Seventeen (T-1094)

 

Perspective

I imagine it’s not easy being married to me. (When Karl reads this tomorrow morning, he’ll probably choke on his coffee.)

Instead of making you guess what I’m talking about, I will cut straight to it.

Every day, over our morning coffee and card picks, I have added a new facet to our morning: I ask him to weigh in on my blog. Poor guy. Every damn day. (Actually, that’s not true. It was true for maybe the first week; but since then, he has come to realize that he, too, is ‘in this for the long haul,’ and thus is going to need to provide me with some feedback every day. So now he tends to volunteer it.)

He has surprised me on a few – liking a couple that I thought were sort of lame, mostly. And yesterday’s post was not stellar. I knew it when I wrote it. But I thought it might have earned points for being written in a slightly different style – with more dialogue, specifically.

— Just tryin’ to change things up, folks! —

But he kind of grimaced after letting me know he’d read the post and I knew his expression spoke the truth.

Looking for Honesty – Gentle, but True

And believe me, as much as I want him to love every pearl that flows from my fingertips, more than any kudos he could possibly heap upon me I want him to be honest. Gently honest, perhaps; but absolutely, unequivocally, truthful. I do not ever want to think or feel the slightest suspicion that he is blowing smoke in my direction and telling me what I want to hear as opposed to what he really thinks.

So I took his grimace in stride, and we agreed that I’d known going into this devotional practice that some days I would struggle to have anything to say. Indeed, as I’m pretty sure I’ve said before – I cannot allow myself to fully contemplate how many days I’ve committed to saying something – ha ha, even though it’s right up there in the heading each and every day.

Imagine my surprise, then, when I had an email conversation about half an hour later with a dear friend in which she specifically pointed out what she’d enjoyed about the post! The little things that had made her smile, including the fact that my missive was an appreciation of the technician who’d come out to fix my laptop – a welcome deviation from the usual tendency to bitch-post about service in our society.

It’s Not for Me to Judge

Janet’s email to me was a timely and very welcome reminder about perspective.  It is easy to get caught up in musing about topics we consider deep, important, profound, or moving. It’s easy to feel like those are the things we ‘should’ be thinking or caring about on a regular basis. Otherwise, it’s a waste of time, right?

Maybe not.

The last thing I want anyone reading my 1111 Devotion posts to feel is that they’re a waste of time. But I’m hearing (if I listen to the message I feel Karl and Janet were both giving me today) that it’s not for me to judge.

Looking into the future, I know that, really and truly, if I am going to write a post every single day for the next 1094 days, I am going to be called upon to trust my muse. Be it Spirit, my allies, my intuition, whatever… I will need to trust that whatever flows through my fingertips is meant for someone, even if it’s ‘only’ me. Even if it’s just the satisfaction of fulfilling my commitment.

But deep down, I hope there will be at least one other person ‘out there’ whose perspective will allow them to feel a kinship with me that day. Who will smile, or think about something a little differently, because we had a chance to connect.

Thank you for joining me!