The Doorway Had A Smile

Greetings from the land of tomorrow otherwise known as China...

As I think of those of you who will be reading this across the different timezones around the world, I am smiling and have gone through some of the images I have taken since the last time I posted. The upload time takes a while from my end, so in the end, I hope you receive the message I have decided to write with warm intentions.

China has had a very surprising impact on my life. One that goes beyond being a tourist in this nation. I live here. I work here. I have fallen in love with the people here. I have found a transformation that has been a positive one for me. One that put me in touch with what it means to have purpose in life. A purpose that started with a smile.

You should be amazed with these shots, because the Chinese shun the camera, specifically when a foreigner has one. All of these wonderful people opened their hearts to me as I set out on a new mission to touch one person a day. The first day, was just to go out and try to provoke a smile. I walked around feeling like my heart was going to explode with my efforts to smile at people. It was contagious. It felt like I was walking around with bottled joy.

The smile then led to contact. Helping people with a load, a bike hatch that wouldn't properly close, a reassuring touch or perhaps something a little more practical, as I would see a need. This opened invitations that would not have been there for me. The observation of a private lesson with a little girl, all because the music drew me. I was astonished to be invited in and allowed to hear the master and the student work together.A crepe maker thought I was funny, and allowed me to photograph her as well. Her outdoor stand was flush with her hard work and because I stood there and was willing to eat there more customers came who were of the paying sort.

The little things along the day that illustrated total joy. The total joy of just touching someone. We are indeed creatures of habit, so on my next journey I decided to be brave and go by myself into the heart of Nanjing. I just got on a bus and let it take me to a place where I just felt like getting off, and I walked from there. It was on this day I was shown the other side, the side that tourists don't see. The ones you find when you go through the side streets where the people of the city live.

I saw a man with mangled legs and a begging bowl. He was in obvious pain, but did his best to smile for me. I reached down to his level and grabbed his hand and pressed his palm not with coins, but with something more substantial. I thought he was going to cry and soothed him by stroking his arm and looked into his eyes. To really see the person as a person and not walk by in a vain rush.

I had a day where I went out and simply found people in need and gave. I set a budget and just looked to touch these people. A foreigner with blue eyes and a smile. When I came home I wept. Not because I couldn't help all of them, no, but because I realized something far more profound. How our fear keeps us from giving. I had written an earnest post on my blog about touching one life a day. So many missed the intention and only thought of their tight wallets. It wasn't about giving money. It was simply about giving without expectation. If we touched one life a day, within a year, you would have touched 365/6 people. A simple observation that made me look at it in an achievable way. I thought, don't even think about pay it forward. This is the kind of giving that is anything in a natural authentic way based on love extended to a total stranger to be free. That is real freedom. A smile is free. A hug. An acknowledgement of a homeless person, but oh, we are so so afraid of being asked to help. We are afraid of need and even more afraid of being needed. Don't misinterpret my message as trying to guilt you into doing anything. The number one mistake we all make is comparing our journeys to each other. We all have our own road. We have our own life lessons. There is no doing or not doing to even worry about.

So what place does this kind of post have here? Perhaps because this is a blog about giving. This is a blog about giving support to each other as we share our adventures. This is our little community and in a way I am just sharing with you my journey along the way and trying to take you with me.

If you haven't figured it out yet, I am really not trying to tell you something you all don't really know for yourselves. What I am finally getting as well, is that in order to allow something or someone into your life, you have to make room for it to appear. For me, this journey began by clearing out my old life so I could have this life. Everything material gone. I am not doing any of this for religious or spiritual reasons. I don't believe in heaven or hell. There is nothing in it for me, except to grow. We all die. We take nothing with us. However, this is what we leave behind, a memory of love. In the palace of my mind, China has filled me with immense treasures I would never have found had I been too afraid to walk out the front door.

Life is magic right where you are. Feel it.

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Blogger of: The Lotus Sutra Chronicles documenting my journey along the way. I keep it simple so readers feel comfortable and at home, after all, it is a blog about my myopic view of the world at times. Greetings to all those who are new posters here and a fond hello to those faithful posters that have been here from the inception of this haven.

Touch thought, touch Soul

I've talked about this in various blog posts before - I am not a daily blogger. I know that many are and find a satisfying sense of order and discipline in the practice of writing daily blog posts. I am not focusing on which is right or wrong, as I feel it is an individual choice from writer to writer. My personal choice is to write when I am inspired to do so. That can mean writing daily, but more often my blog articles are published less frequently than most.


Because I choose to wait for inspiration to spark my writing, I honestly never know what the next blog article will be. For me, that's part of the enjoyment of being a writer. I usually have a variety of topics flitting around the edges of my consciousness, and I wait patiently for them to either sharpen and grab my attention or I continue to let them circulate on the periphery of my mind.

My last blog post, Cosmic Symphony, was my own ruminations on how we connect via social media in a very elemental, curiously intimate manner. I am pleased to be able to say that that blog article was very well received. The most recent Comment posted was written by a lovely lady named Judy J., whom I have never met face to face. I have no idea how she was led to discover Healing Morning blog, but find me she did.

She has been dealing with quite a challenging set of circumstances in her personal life in a manner that not many of us can imagine. She is located in California and authors the blog Caregiver to Hubby, describing day to day life as the caretaker to a brain injured family member. I urge all of you to visit her blog and follow her writing. I am just now working through her archives and am still learning about her journey. Somehow, she found my blog and it gave her a moment of peace and solace.

As a writer, I cannot express how important it is to hear that I have touched another person in this manner with my work. I have been told that on an in person basis, I exude a calming, peaceful energy. This is one of the reasons that I chose the name of Healing Morning for my blog. We each have a specific energy, a writing style and personality that projects itself through our writing. This is our voice. When I am writing, I honestly am not focusing on making sure that my voice comes through; I just write. The only way that I know that I am succeeding in my goal is when people leave comments and their thoughts. Judy J. gave me such a moment with her words the other day.

It is no secret that creative people harbor some degree of insecurity about their talent. I am no different in that regard. Although I am extremely confident in my writing ability and am also very centered in the message and concepts that I work to convey, I will not claim that I am always confident that every reader will completely "get" what I am communicating.

I learned many years ago that this is actually not an issue to wrestle with. Writing is the goal, plain and simple. It matters not that each person reading a given article interprets the overall theme exactly as I mean it to be understood. Indeed, I recognize that there may be many moments that someone comes away with a completely different, diametrically opposite perception of my words. For me, what matters more is if they were touched in a positive way. And apparently I am achieving that singular goal.

I am still growing as a writer and will continue that growth until my last breath. That is the beauty of life, continually growing, changing, learning. The moments that cast a blanket of deep satisfaction are those that let us know we've made a difference; that we've touched the very Soul of another person out there who may be struggling. To me, that is the moment where everything stops, hushed and profoundly, brilliantly resonating...and you are given a mirror of sorts. A noble nod from God/Universe that yes, you are in Divinely vibrating unity with your purpose.

It is a curious thing to know that you can and do make a difference with the basic need to express yourself with words on paper or computer screen. In a spiritual manner, you have touched thought, touched Soul with another. It is a musical exchange, don't you think? Harmonies melding as one reads the written thoughts of another and that first one is lifted up, heart gladdened or lightened in some small fashion.

In a world where feeling disenfranchised and isolated is encroaching at an alarming rate, it is no small wonder that we find unexpected consolation and moments of community via the internet. Judy J. may be surprised to learn that her comment on my Cosmic Symphony blog post lifted me up equally. We all need that encouragement as we fight the daily fight on this Earth School, navigating our way through the morass of experiences.

On days where I might hesitate to post an article that I feel pushes boundaries or that might confuse readers as I delve into esoteric or complex concepts, I will remember Judy J's comment and click the Publish Post button with confidence. No, every post will not be a polarizing moment for every reader. And no, not everyone will automatically fall in love with my work. But some people will find me out there in the constantly changing, busy, frenetic world and discover a calm oasis where they find respite. That is my goal for my writing - to touch, to inspire, to soothe, to challenge to view the world in a different manner....and most certainly, to tease the occasional moment of laughter out of you. This is, perhaps, Part II of Cosmic Symphony, as it discusses those ethereal, yet indelible threads of energy that weave together when we connect through writing.

I believe that when you read my writing, my thoughts and energy are woven into the words and they leave a permanent mark on your heart. Whether you embrace my thoughts or reject them out of hand, you will still be changed by reading the words here. I find that to be such a powerful thought that it is what draws me back, irresistibly, to my virtual pen via the computer keyboard, to tap away and fill the screen with my thoughts. I bare my very soul in the process and am more vulnerable than many would think as a result.

When you look into a faceted diamond and it sparkles, that is occurring because light is finding its way into the center of the gemstone and is bouncing around, hitting the facets and refracting brilliant light outward. That is what makes a diamond beautiful, and it is also what makes each person beautiful. I am opening my inner self up through the process of writing - opening a virtual doorway for light to pour in. I believe that my life experiences and emotions are the facets where that light refracts, bounces around and shoots back out into the world in a bright, sometimes chaotic, other times peaceful, calm and sure display. Judy J.'s eyes just happened to be sharp and clear when she read my blog and she caught that light. She found logic and order in my words in a manner that spoke to her and gave her pleasure. My very heart sighs at that thought!

Judy J., thank you for your comment on my blog page. I hope you read this and know that you, also, make a beautiful mark in the world with your Spirit and your writing. Well met, my newfound friend, well met!
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If you enjoyed this post and would like to read more, you can find me at Healing Morning blog.

Arthurian Morning

     The full moon greeted me as I stepped out the door, placing herself square in front of me so that I could not watch the road without watching her. She gathered her orchestra of violin clouds and sang with the CD.
     Illuminated stars became shattered pieces of my heart. Pieces offered in love and pieces taken in greed. Pieces taken for granted by myself and others.
     Turning right the moon plays tag and darts over to the left hiding behind trees and houses. When I turn left she dances to the other side, no longer leading, guiding and showing me the way. Why can she not stay in front and show me the way? Why can’t I drive towards her and slide on the Milky Way? Why can she not share a constellation with me? Why can she not spell out a word, just one, to tell me whether I travel the right path?
     A curve in the road places her square in my vision. Her full grin has now softened to a Mona Lisa smile. A knowing smile. A smile whose beam illuminates the metal on a building. For a brief moment the building’s side, a sliver, a piece, catches moon fire and glistens in a white brilliance. A sword.
     The hands of my spirit reach out and grab the sword. Like Arthur I brandish it against the night sky. The infirmities of age released, I thrust it into the blackness of the sky and claim it my own. The ram’s horns of war bellow and the pieces of my heart amass and are drawn towards the sword. My spirit wants to melt but stands strong, tall and poised commanding their return by my stature, my strength and my fearlessness.
     The pieces, now soldiers, encircle me. I set my face towards the moon with arms raised high. My warrior’s voice, deep and raspy from the years, bellows towards her waning presence, “If I am lost I shall travel in this good company. And if not lost I shall send them forth to find those who are.”
     I wait for her reply but none is heard. Dropping my arms my spirit inhales the night sky. I grab the sword still quivering from the force of my strength. Extracting it from the sky I thrust it back again shaking the sky. The pieces, the soldiers, like drops of mercury, go rolling across the night sky.
     Smiling, I return to my castle, my heart, my home. Entering the gates I order the guards to leave the drawbridge down. They look at me puzzled, concerned for my safety. A slight chuckle tickles my face. “The others will be back soon and with them, their friends.”

[reposted from my blog]

Willing to Wander

I’m a big believer in pilgrimages—whether it’s to the Mekong River to watch for “dragon fire”, or a mountaintop in Spain where the Virgin Mary reportedly appeared, or a dirt road in rural Missouri where a “spooklight” dances, or the deep silence of the woods around a Trappist abbey in rural Oregon. My own understanding of a pilgrimage is that of a quest—I try to take a route I haven’t taken before to a place I’ve never been before, where an answer to a question may or may not be waiting. I’ve discovered that risk and openness usually bring a surprising gift.
When I visited the Trappist abbey recently, the weather was perfect, the hiking trails lush, and the sounds of forest creatures and burbling streams and wind sighing in the tree tops a welcome relief from the concrete and traffic of Seattle. The monks started singing at 3:30 in the morning, punctuated the rest of the day with prayer and singing, and finished at 7:30 pm. I tried to sleep as late as 6:30 am, but with bells ringing and other retreatants rising early, it was difficult. It’s only a place you should visit if you’re willing to enter into the “monastic rhythm”—and it’s a little jarring at first coming from the hyperactive outside world. My favorite time of day was the 7:30 pm prayers and songs in the candlelit chapel as a monk pronounced, “Brothers, we are now one day closer to our eternal home. ”That comment sent a shiver down my spine, reminding me that we are all pilgrims, and each day is another mile in the journey. Every day is a new mile we haven’t traveled before—and we don’t really know where our wandering will ultimately lead or what our destination city will look like. I guess that’s what travel used to always be like. Now, we tend to be fully informed and completely connected over the internet before we even take our first step. Yet adventures still await those who are willing to wander. After departing the abbey, I just started driving in the general direction of the Pacific coast. Along the way, I spotted hand-made signs and arrows proclaiming simply, “Monastery.” Naturally, I had to follow. The signs led me along deserted stretches of two-lane highway. I was just about to turn around when I reached another arrow pointing to an unpaved road. The unpaved road dead-ended, and when I stepped out of my car, a beat-up old tom cat came racing out to greet me. Maybe the monks’ silence left the cat starved for conversation. I had arrived at the only Brigittine monastery in the world, where cloistered monks chanted and made chocolate. I took a few moments to pray in the “Our Lady of Consolation” chapel and, of course, I bought some chocolate. For some reason, the winding roads on this little pilgrimage kept depositing me on the doorstep of those hidden ones who are devoting their lives to praying for the rest of us. Apparently, there are even cloistered cats.
Also posted on my blog Strange Islands

I'm dying.

I'm dying. My days are numbered. I realize that we only have a certain amount of days to use at our disposal. When confronting our demise, it can often make us reflect on what we do, where we have been, what we could have done, and what to do with the time we have left.

Now before I cause panic or anyone to wonder about my health, I am okay (as far as I know). I am still waiting on the results of my recent cholesterol test, maybe then my worries may shift. (Sorry Mom if I spooked you.)

I am not in a melancholy state of feeling like a pierced Goth kid who sees death as a perpetually looming reaper. Although it did not help that I awoke with no voice, and a cold like I have not seen in ages, I still am not doing too badly for a 45 year old dude with many miles on him.

I guess what started the inspiration for this installment was indeed the fact that I remained home from work and was watching the Today show. I was watching a segment highlighting the story of a family in which the mother (of 2 young girls) was fighting, to no avail, Stage four cancer. It was heartbreaking as the mother’s main worry was that of the welfare of her children. More so, she lamented missing “moments” with them: proms, weddings, vacations, and grandchildren to name a few.

The piece also highlighted an organization, to which the name momentarily escapes my memory that will help provide vacations, moments mind you, for the families of the terminally ill. They offer them a fond memory and a reprieve from the ravages of the illness for a brief period in time. It warmed my heart, and I commend these people for their fine efforts.

I listened to her newfound wisdom of making the most of the time she had left, and her deepened appreciation for the “small stuff” that used to pass her by. I stopped to reflect on that poignant realization. “Oh my gosh”, I thought. We are ALL dying. Maybe we do not know when exactly, but do we have to become confronted with the finish line to start to practice the wisdom now obtained by the ones who have been informed of their time remaining?

I also thought deeper for a moment. Who are the actual lucky ones here? (With absolute compassion and all due respect) I wondered which life was more coveted: one that is long without awareness to its gifts, or a narrowed timeline with a deepened appreciation of life’s blessings and a love for each individual moment. Quite a toss-up isn’t it?

Without being dark or macabre, I want to remind all that we are indeed dying. This I say without the intent to sadden, but to uplift. Many proceed through their timelines without knowing the date of their departure. That is the way it should go, right? Our schedules, the small stuff, and trivial circumstances flood our days, leaving little room for desire, or urgency for that matter, to take time for the important stuff. The stuff we would so trade a king’s ransom for if we had one more day at the end. More time to do the things we would do, if we all knew our departure time.

Since many of us are lucky (or unlucky, depending on your viewpoint) to not know when we are leaving this earthly plane, perhaps it should truly spark more urgency than less. One who has been handed a terminal health obstacle for example can immediately get on a shift in perspective and start to gain closure, reconnect, or simply appreciate the things we the oblivious procrastinate. Many of us, myself included act as if we are drinking from a never ending well. What if God decided to call us home next week? What if it was tomorrow? What if it was this evening? How would you act? What would you do? Who would you surround yourself with? What are your loose ends?

I realized a few things today:

Time is a precious resource If we compare it to money for example, we can spend it. In both we can dole it out to achieve what we need to do, and trade it for accomplishing things. Like money too, sometimes we trade our resources for wise things, other times not so wise. We can save it. Through planning and frugality, we can economize things we do in order to maintain as much of our precious resources as possible to use at a later time. Both time and money should not all be blown on a whim or foolishly. Lastly though, we can waste it. However the grave difference here is that there is a possibility to make more money, blessed would we be if we found a way to print more time.

Things left undone. Are there experiences that nag at you, calling for you to try? Is there somewhere you have always wished to visit? Is there a class you always wanted to take? Is there a book still unwritten within you? Have you always dreamt of seeing Europe, maybe the ocean, maybe simply another city? If your time was greatly limited, what would you do? Are you a parent? I never heard of a man on his deathbed saying, “Gee, I wish I spent more time at the office!”

Things left unsaid. Do you have any “I love you’s” still trapped inside you? How about any “I miss you’s?” Perhaps you may have accumulated an “I’m sorry” or two. Often we hear of people who regret that they were never able to release the burden of words left unsaid. Take your own inventory. Is there anything that needs to go or be shared?

Many of us do not know exactly when we will leave this big blue marble. Even those who are burdened with physical or health obstacles may not always know the exact time of departure even when knowing their time is more limited than others. I feel that we can all agree if we knew our time was going to be shorter than we expected, we would be prompted to take on an urgency to wring the most life we could out of our remaining moments.

Like the song by Tim McGraw advises: “Live like you're dyin'” Don’t wait until a difficult diagnosis or loss of a friend or loved one, prompts you to an awareness you can engage now in this moment. Although I am not sure if I will try skydiving, I will try my damndest to appreciate my moments here more. I will try to recognize the gifts that lie before me, and will try to be more frugal with my time.

Since I have now spent enough time in front of a computer, I think I will log off and live a little.





This is a re-post from Artisan of the Human Spirit by Tony Anders

Scanning for Updates

   “Windows has important updates to install.” Hmm. Click.
   “You may continue working while Windows prepares updates.” Click. Click.
   “Windows must restart to install updates for programs and services. Save any open files and restart your computer.” Huh? You said I could…
   “Do you want to restart now?” No!
   “Windows must restart to install …” Click. Click. Click. Wait.
   “Windows is configuring update one of three. Do not turn off your computer.” Naughty Beth. Just wait.
   The black laptop screen reflects my image.
   Restart complete.
   “Windows has updated your computer. Click here to see the updates installed.” Go for it. Click.
   “Security Patch KB0..” click.
   Note to God: Um, if I may, did you see that?
   Note to Beth: Reboot.

[also posted on my blog]

A journey of self-discovery

I sat in silence.

The sky engulfed me. So did the greenery.


It was a meditative state ... hearing nothing but the chirping of the birds.

The sound of the breeze in the rustling leaves.

The smell of grass.

Everything kissed by the sun.

I was at peace.

As I cocked my head to the left, I saw the freeway ... glistening metal and glass edifices. A mass of civilization. People running from Point A to Point B.

Mindlessly.

Trying to make ends meet. Trying to figure out their purpose in life through their work. Trying to survive in a consumerist battlefield.

Perched up on the green folds of the mountain, I tried to blur it out.



All needs, wants, ambition, goals -- vanished.

Replaced by calm.

It was so real, that it felt surreal.

And then came a flood of questions.

Why didn't I make more time for such escapes from a life that continued to stress me?

Why have I built a life that continually demands me to be a robot?

Why can I not just leave it all behind?

Why can't I enjoy more time with Nature?

Why can't I just spend days wandering, reflecting, marveling?

Why do I need a routine, a structure to make sense of my existence?

Why can't I just be?

Escape.

Create my own reality.

I didn't come back with any answers, but the questions keep nagging at me.

When I know what I really want to do, when I know what brings me contentment, when I know what makes me fulfilled...

What's holding me back?

Is it a false sense of security?

Is it just because?

I don't want to go down the "I don't know" street...it never leads me to any answers, just buys me more time to muster up the courage and ultimately confront my fears.


I want to close some doors and not look back.

I want to open some doors and explore with wild abandon.

One day soon we'll have to sit and talk it through.

I, me, and myself on a journey of self-discovery.

Also posted on my blog.