generosity

Not Fair – Day 516

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“She took my bowl” – Photo: L. Weikel

Not Fair

Sometimes life’s not fair.

Good grief. If that’s not an understatement of the century, I don’t know what is.

And of course, images and knowledge of the hell so many are enduring right now spring to mind almost without bidding. Fairness? There’s very little ‘fairness’ in anything we see playing out around us.

And so, of course, I am not invoking the suffering of so many of our brothers and sisters, neighbors and friends, and the many people we don’t know, have never met, and probably will never encounter in our lives – those who are either suffering acutely from Covid-19 or are trying to help those afflicted survive it.

Nope. I’m going for a scootch less serious here, folks.

Always the Puppy

I took the photo above this evening after I witnessed Sheila, who is blind and deaf and over 15 and a half years old, hone in on a bowl of icing I’d put on the floor in front of Spartacus. (Not a full bowl, of course. How could you even imagine such a travesty? No, just a bowl ‘to be licked.’)

Sheila was asleep. Spartacus got a few licks in – maybe three – when she opened her rheumy eyes, raised her unsteady carcass, and lurched across the room with a single minded focus that was impressive, I must admit.

Spartacus didn’t know what hit him. Well, yes he did. Sheila immediately grasped the solid, hefty glass bowl in her determined little mouth and pulled the bowl away from Spartacus, who had his face fully immersed in it. He didn’t growl; but neither did he yield. He stuck with it for another couple licks, but Sheila would have none of it.

Or rather, she would have all of it. She dragged it halfway across the room, this bowl that’s so heavy there’s no way she’d be able to lift it. But she dragged it far enough that he got the message.

And that’s when I snapped the photo. His look said it all. “She took my bowl. I’m sad. But there’s nothing I can do. She’s my mom.”

Good Boy

Karl and I told him what a good boy he was for sharing, even if it wasn’t entirely voluntary. And we paid extra special attention to him, which in Spartacus land, is every bit as sweet as any icing he might score. Plus, we knew he’d gotten in a couple good licks – that was why I’d given the bowl to him in the first place. I knew Sheila’s sense of smell remains unerring – and her love of icing may only be eclipsed by her passion for ice cream. I knew she’d be on it like lightning, no matter how deep in Dreamtime she might initially be.

We show love in so many ways. Whether we’re humans or canines, a little bit of patience, a choice to be kind or generous, a gesture of compassion. Every time we show or do any of these toward another, we make life here on Earth a little bit better.

So before you say or think, “Not fair” today, may you give a nod to Spartacus and share your bowl of icing with those you love the most – with nary a growl nor a grudge.

Yin/Yang – Photo: L. Weikel

(T-595)

A Cosmic Reminder – Day Eighty Nine

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 2 Comments
A “Nothing” – (c) Karl D. Weikel

A Cosmic Reminder 

Life is weird.

It’s just strange how you can be going along, living your life, basically minding your own business and doing your best to be as conscious as possible, when – thwack!– you get hit upside the head and challenged to hold your center.

That happened to me today.

And it wasn’t until I got home this evening that I felt the repercussions and even fully realized I’d received a spiritual thwack! upside the head – a cosmic reminder of why I engage in the discipline and commitment of my 1111 Devotion.

An Unexpected Flood of Sadness

Come to think of it, I was hit with the overwhelming wave of emptiness as I was driving home from my session. I told myself it was because I hadn’t eaten all day, but I knew that didn’t ring true. It’s not an unusual occurrence for me not to eat on days I see clients, and it doesn’t bother me at all. The truth was, I was missing Karl. And it was creating a pit-in-the-center-of-my-chest kind of sadness.

The short explanation is that my client had a connection to my son Karl that they didn’t even realize. When the appointment was initially set up, I’d had this vague tickle at the back of my mind. In the minutes before they arrived for their appointment, I literally wrote in my journal, “Why does that name sound familiar to me?”

I whipped out my phone and searched the name in my email, just to see if perhaps I’d seen this person a long, long time ago, perhaps in another context, unrelated to my shamanic practice. Maybe as their lawyer?

Nope. No record.

Realizing the Connection

There was no recognition on either of our parts when they arrived. They didn’t even mention that my name sounded familiar, so I shushed myself, opened Sacred Space, and began the session.

It didn’t take long before I realized that their son and Karl had had a strong bond back in high school. Indeed, so strong that, the last time Karl was home, the final Christmas and New Year’s holidays he spent in Pennsylvania, indeed, on Earth, he’d made a point of getting together with this friend specifically to give him permission to imitate Karl’s artwork – a unique art form he’d developed and honed since elementary school and eventually won awards for in high school, as well as in independent juried art shows.

An Uncommon Generosity of Spirit

I’d always wondered why Karl went out of his way to give this friend his ‘blessing,’ so to speak. I’d been shocked when he told me he intended to do it; and was even more shocked when he followed through with it. Perhaps on some deep level, both of us knew his time was growing short. Did he know? Did I know? It’s impossible for me to answer.

It was such a profoundly magnanimous gesture – loving and kind and generous. Made even more so because he’d only discovered through others that his art was being copied by this friend; his friend hadn’t disclosed it himself.

So why would he do that, I wondered. Why would he make it OK to be copied, imitated?

I remember standing in the kitchen and asking Karl, “Why?”

And I distinctly remember him shrugging and saying, “It doesn’t really matter in the end, Mom.” I just looked at him, struggling to keep myself from saying all the things that shrieked in my mind. Of course it mattered, I wanted to say.

Non-attachment and Serenity

“He knows,” Karl continued. “And I want him to know I know. But I also want him to know I give him permission.”

How could I argue with that? Karl’s attitude was intensely serene and – there are those words again – generous; magnanimous.

It was not unlike how I’d felt in Ann Arbor the year before, when I watched him give away to a homeless person the food we’d wrapped for him to take on the long bus ride back to California.

His non-attachment and serenity were profound. And I have to admit, I struggled to find them in my own heart. I wanted to feel ok about it; it was his art, after all. His talent and imagination. His vision.

In the End…

I was sad to notice that very same friend failed to come to Karl’s Gathering, held only two weeks after his death. Their meeting had occurred only ten months earlier. Surely it gave him pause?

And I was sad to realize my client didn’t even recognize his name. It was as if they’d never been friends.

I miss Karl. I miss his spirit. And most of all, I don’t want him to disappear.

Which reminds me of the entire point behind my 1111 Devotion.

(T-1022)

“Disappearing” – Photo by L. Weikel

State of Our Union – Day Eighty Six

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 4 Comments
Photo: L.Weikel

State of Our Union 

Naah, I’m not going to talk politics. But I did watch it (the so-called SOTU); and I watched Stacey Abrams’s response. And all I’ll say is that I felt inspired listening to Stacey Abrams. I felt heartened by her vision of working together, searching for and implementing innovative responses to our country’s issues for the benefit of us all.

And it felt rejuvenating to contemplate just how quickly so many of our current, existential issues can still be turned around – before it’s too late – if we work together.

Our Ability to Share is Based In the Power of Knowing What We Have

We can do this. We must not give in to fear. We must not give in to the cynical fatalism that encourages people to take as much as they can from whomever they can get it because it’s every man for himself.

I loved the story she told of her father walking home in the pouring rain from his job, soaked and shivering when Stacey and her mom and siblings went out to meet him in their car. I loved that he gave away his coat, knowing he would be soaked and freezing cold, but knowing also that he was going home to his family; knowing they would take care of him, get him warm, and give him dinner. Giving his coat to the homeless man was a no-brainer for Mr. Abrams because that man didn’t have Mr. Abrams’s knew and felt certain of the power of greatest resource: his family.

I think that’s the single most important realization we can make in these times: we need each other. Whether we know each other or not, we must be family for each other.

We Need to Offer Of Ourselves

Yes, some of us are lucky enough to have that support system readily in place in the traditional sense. By that I mean siblings, parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins living in relatively close proximity to us. But a pretty significant portion of us do not have that comfort and sense of stability close at hand.

Instead, we’re asked to look to our left and look to our right. Some of us are starting to realize we need to reach out to our friends – and maybe even our neighbors. We need to offer our friendship and support, offer our unique skills. Offer our selves.

We’ve all seen that every time a catastrophe happens, people rally. We come together and offer what we have. We pitch in to help each other, scrounge up sustenance, and provide emotional and energetic support (if not also tangible and fiscal support as well). We don’t stop to ask about politics or who you voted for. We tap into our humanity. We tap into our shared experience.

Embrace Beaver Energy

I yearn to be challenged by our leaders to be visionary and innovative. Don’t you?

So much more is possible when we work together and hold each other up. So much more is possible when we embrace our Beaver energy.

Come on. You knew I’d bring some archetypal animal medicine into this, didn’t you?

Embrace your hope. Embrace your wit. Embrace your intelligence, your inspiration, and your passion. And be vigilant about giving your power to or believing anyone who would tell you that your woes and miseries are someone else’s ‘fault.’ That the ‘other’ (who would actually give you the coat off their back) is someone to be feared, hated, or bullied.

We are in this together. We need to believe. In us.

(T-1025)

recinet.ca

Turkey Day – Day Eleven (T-1100)

Posted on by Lisa Weikel 4 Comments

 

Turkey Day

Funny.  I never call Thanksgiving “Turkey Day,” but here I am titling my blog post for today “Turkey Day.”

I didn’t eat turkey today, nor did I even see one (either in the wild or on a platter).

But I thought of turkeys today – and the meaning of Turkey as conveyed by my beloved Medicine Cards – and in spite of myself, kind of felt a little sad.

One of the paragraphs in Turkey goes as follows:

“Spectators unfamiliar with the cultural phenomenon of the pot-latch or give-away ceremony are often mystified by it. A tribal member may gladly give away all he or she owns, and do without in order to help the People. In present-day urban life, we are taught to acquire and get ahead. The person with the most toys wins the game. In some cultures, no one can win the game unless the whole of the People’s needs are met. A person who claims more than his or her share is looked upon as selfish or crazy or both. The poor, the aged, and the feeble have honor. The person who gives away the most and carries the burdens of the people is one of the most respected.”

What’s Mine? Yours? Ours? Theirs?

There’s a lot of focus these days on what’s ‘mine,’ what’s ‘yours,’ what’s theirs,’ and what’s ‘ours.’ And there are a lot of people claiming an astoundingly greater portion of a lot of our resources than could even remotely be considered their ‘share.’

And I will be the first to admit that I do not consistently embody the spirit conveyed within this paragraph. I don’t even come close. But I aspire to do so.

And I wonder how much better so many people in the world would feel if everyone just thought a little bit more about someone else. Not only the people who were ‘thought of,’ but also the people who do the thinking of others. It could be such a colossally ‘win-win’ of a situation.

The joy of making another person smile and know they’re loved – it’s huge. The joy of letting another person know they make a difference in your life and you appreciate them for it – can change their life forever. The joy of taking a moment to be kind, to be generous, to be patient, or to be compassionate – can make your life worth living.

Sometimes the smallest gestures, such as looking directly into a person’s eyes when you listen to them, can make everything seem a little bit brighter.

Aspire to make a difference. Smile. Be grateful. You matter.

Happy “Turkey” Day.