With a couple of exceptions here and there, Valentine’s Day has always been a favorite holiday of mine. The cheery reds and whites and pinks brighten up the dreariness of mid-February, and the whole world seems to focus, for one day at least, on expressing love for one another. I am blessed to have many [...]
One of the things I enjoy most about my life as a healer is the variety of people who come to see me. I’ve had clients as young as eight and as old as eighty, male and female, straight, gay, bi- and transgendered; White, African-American, Asian, East Indian and Native American, and a host [...]
With a couple of exceptions here and there, Valentine’s Day has always been a favorite holiday of mine. The cheery reds and whites and pinks brighten up the dreariness of mid-February, and the whole world seems to focus, for one day at least, on expressing love for one another. I am blessed to have many people in my life who I love, so this Valentine’s Day I would like to give thanks for and to honor them. I know that gratitude truly is the highest form of love.
The past couple years has seen my family get smaller, with the passing of my father and a cousin and an uncle, which makes me appreciate the ones who are here even more. My mother, who is strong and wise and funny and my biggest fan; my brother, Tim, who is the great protector of all his womenfolk; my daughter, Jasmine, who is my beacon of light; Nadia, my step-daughter, who brings joy and a breath of fresh air every time I see her, and of course, my beloved Thomas, whose steady love and gentle humor and absolutely unconditional acceptance of who I am gives me the foundation to explore what is mine to do in this world. I love them all immensely.
I am grateful for dear old friends, who have not only witnessed my metamorphosis the past several years, but have supported it, too. Suzy, who throughout our lives has loved me unconditionally, through bad relationships and the growth of my child from baby to young adult. Cara and Aimee, who even when I’ve been disconnected from them, have reached out to me in any and every way that they can. Then there are those clients who have seen me regularly for the past ten years, especially Angela, Jay, Phyllis, Sue, and Ellen, who have let me experiment with each new modality I’ve learned and are as interested in the happenings of my life as I am in theirs. Blessings, each and every one of them.
I am grateful for new friends, especially in the spiritual communities I have become a part of. A core group of Facebook friends, who no matter how they got to their living, loving spiritual nature, appreciate the Oneness of all people. From them I learn much and feel deep support. They are far-flung – Finland, Ireland, New York, Ohio, Texas, California, Australia, Thailand, India… And closer to home, the Unity in Chicago community, where Sunday mornings are filled with hugs and love and laughter that helps me stay centered for the whole week. Nicole and Mike, who have opened a whole new world to me of love and light and sharing – both through Mike’s beautiful music and production skills and Nicole’s gentle guidance and love with our Wake Up Sunshine! radio show. The wonderful women of the Extraordinary YOU book, who have a lust for life and living that invigorates me. How truly blessed I am to have these inspirational people in my life that help me focus and expand on my message of Heart Living.
I am grateful for my wise women mentors, all of whom I am deeply honored to know and to love. I am astounded that they love me, too. These women of a certain age have all led (and continue to lead) full and eventful lives with compassion, purpose, humility and unshakable faith. Ivanne has shown me what it truly means to be a devoted vessel of Spirit. Muriel, a former nun who even today leads a life of service, and who can truly see the good in every one and every situation. And Louise, the life-long Truth seeker, whose keen intellect coupled with her vibrantly spiritual nature has given her vast knowledge and understanding of the New Thought movement, and is guiding me to be open and ready for the next expression of my own spirituality. I know these women were God-given to me, and I am profoundly grateful.
For me, today is much more than flowers and chocolate and jewelry (though there certainly is nothing wrong with those things!). It’s about taking time to acknowledge the gifts these special people are to me; this is what fills my heart with deep, deep love and soaring joy. It’s the absolutely perfect way to spend Valentine’s Day.
One of the things I enjoy most about my life as a healer is the variety of people who come to see me. I’ve had clients as young as eight and as old as eighty, male and female, straight, gay, bi- and transgendered; White, African-American, Asian, East Indian and Native American, and a host of other ethnicities. My clients have been Christians, Jews, Hindis, Buddhists, New Agers, Muslims, Atheists, and Wiccan. I believe in honoring all paths to God, and so I try to work within my clients’ belief systems so that they are comfortable and our time together is meaningful. Maybe this is why in my practice I have had clients who are ministers and nuns, both Catholic and Buddhist. Last week, however, was a first – I had a session with a Catholic priest.
He came to me in a circuitous way. One of his sisters is a client of mine, and a huge supporter of my work – it seems I get at least one referral a month from her, sometimes more. She had wanted her mother to come and see me for stress relief, but the only way her mother would agree to come was if Father Patrick would have an appointment, too. I must admit I was a apprehensive – like many who had left the Church, I tended to be dismissive of the beauty of the faith and focused on what I perceived to be the archaic, harmful traditions that heavily favored men and encouraged guilt and shame. And yet underneath all my derision was some leftover awe from my childhood of the men who were closer to God than any other mortal could hope to be. I reminded myself that all who come to me is through Divine Order, and I am simply a channel for Divine Love. I reminded myself that my own opinions and hang-ups truly didn’t matter and prayed to be an open and clear channel.
As soon as we started working together I felt Father Patrick’s expansive, loving light. His spiritual nature was breathtakingly beautiful, and I could feel his extreme devotion and connection to the God of his faith. His life was not an easy one. He was a bridge between a large and often unwieldy religious organization and thousands of people. By his vows and by the man that he is, he loved all of his congregation with a holy passion, and it was his work to provide comfort, solace and connection to God. And yet he was human, a man who went to many, many funerals and heard stories of the meanest acts of mankind, and offered a way of forgiveness to all.
He had recently been transferred, through no choice of his own. He had built up his last church to be a vibrant community with a large school and active and involved congregants. He had given his heart and soul to make this happen. Because he was so successful, the archdiocese sent him to perform his magic in another church. Father Patrick was not bitter or angry; he understood and accepted his role as a servant of the Lord. But the human side of him mourned the loss and he was a little anxious about his new location.
I was blessed to be able to help put this wonderful man’s heart at ease. When we were finished he commented that I had a true gift, whatever it was. I replied that I felt so very honored and humbled to have the opportunity to work with him, and how much I appreciated the complications of his job. He smiled at me and said, “ It’s not my job, it’s my vocation. I know you understand that.” And I smiled in return and affirmed that I did. It was the first time that I consciously realized that my work is my vocation, too.
He helped his mother collect her things and helped her with her coat and boots. As they were leaving, he turned and looked at me and said, “God bless you.” I don’t think I’ve ever heard or experienced those words in the way he expressed them to me before. I sat with the glow of that for a good long while, and I realized my time with Father Patrick had been healing for me, too.
I was able to let go of that nagging residual negativity I had about the Catholic Church. I was able to remember the majesty of the rituals, the sanctity of the saints, how when I was young I could truly feel the beauty and peace the Church gave to its members, including me. And while I certainly don’t condone any action or behavior that harms another, especially the innocent, I reminded myself that these are the actions of a few, not the majority. Condemning the solace and peace that is provided to many who follow that faith is not mine to do. With this realization I let go of old and deep hurts that were no longer mine to carry. I felt my heart lighten and expand, and I truly understood what it means to honor all paths to God. And so it is.
Yesterday was a wonderful pre-Christmasy day. Yes, I know that today is a week and two days after Christmas, but very little of these past few months have followed a logical timeline, so I decided to just enjoy the day for what it was, a wonderful pre-Christmasy day.
During Jasmine’s childhood we would decorate the tree and the house on Thanksgiving weekend. We both loved this ritual, putting Ella Fitzgerald’s Swinging Christmas CD on and sipping cocoa as we decorated. Every year Jasmine got a special ornament from both her grandparents and me, so by the time she was ten the majority of the ornaments were hers, and by the time she reached eighteen the tree was heavy with them all. Any other ornaments got tucked away on the inside branches.
We always spent Christmas at my folks in Florida, so Christmas was double the fun. It never crossed either one of our minds to not have our own tree. When she started college in Florida, we no longer went down at Christmas since she wanted to be home. I would go down with her in January right and celebrate with my folks then. We still decorated on Thanksgiving weekend, though, before her flight back to Florida.
This year Jasmine had a retail job in Florida, so for the first time in twenty-two years, she wasn’t home for Thanksgiving. Thomas and I were invited to a friend’s house, and she’s an amazing cook, so we gratefully went and had a wonderful time. But I missed my traditional Thanksgiving and my girl immensely. The tree didn’t get decorated until the week before Christmas when Jasmine came home, nor did any other preparations get done beforehand. It just didn’t feel like Christmas without the tree.
The week before Christmas was a flurry of incredible happenings. My car was hit while it was parked, and what I thought was a slight bit of damage turned out to be more extensive, and I still don’t have it back. Our Heart-Warming Soups were featured on a local TV news program, and we got orders far and wide. We found ourselves with a teenager in the house unexpectedly who will be with us through the New Year and probably beyond.
Then on Thursday Thomas had the car, driving near and far delivering soup. Jasmine and I made a trip to the doctor’s office to determine whether her hacking was pneumonia or a nasty bug (it was a nasty bug). We had hoped to go Christmas shopping on Friday, but that didn’t happen because of her illness. She coughed most of Friday night and early Saturday morning, falling into a deep sleep at about 5:30. I fell asleep at about six, only to be roused by Thomas at 9:00 so we could do our shopping for the girls and for Christmas dinner.
We got back home at about 3:00pm on Christmas Eve, and the evening was a flurry of wrapping and preparation. Christmas was church in the morning and then dinner preparation and then a nap. I was so exhausted by dinner time, I barely even tasted what I ate…
Last week, Jasmine, her best friend, and the teenager went to the dollar store to buy glassware and then to the craft store to buy paint. They were going to make hand-painted glasses for their friends as belated Christmas gifts. New Year’s Day the teenager spent the evening excitedly preparing a craft area, complete with newspapers on the kitchen table and a drying area on the floor. Today all three girls sat around the table chatting and giggling, decorating their glassware, listening to Taylor Swift and singing along.
Me? I looked at the Christmas tree and the dust and the loads of laundry and thought how this New Year’s was like no other, how I usually have the tree down and the house cleaned and all in order on New Year’s Eve, and here it was January 2nd already… I sighed a little and thought how I should get started. And then I sat down. I plugged in all the Christmas lights and sat by the Christmas tree, a little grateful for the gray day that made the twinkling lights glow even more. I listened to the giggling and Taylor Swift and the joyous noises coming from the craft area in the kitchen. I smiled and spent the afternoon catching up on emails and paperwork, checking in on the fun being had in the kitchen, and feelng very, very grateful for one more Christmasy day.
I started this blog a week ago, sitting on the train heading back to Chicago from a day spent on the farm with Nicole and Mike. The train ride was a welcome respite, and I welcomed the chance to sit and write again.
My life has been getting busier and busier, with each new day filled with entirely new experiences. In the thick of it I have stayed mindful, trying to stay in the miraculous blessing of it all. Fifteen years ago I thought at my age I would go back to school one last time and become a librarian, surrounded by good books and quiet and living a simple peaceful life. I would read and go for long walks and when the time came, babysit my grandchildren. I was looking forward to a pleasant, uneventful mid-life and beyond.
My life ended up having quite a different story, and of course, I am extremely grateful. The past month and half or so has been non-stop busyness, with Thomas and I working seven days a week, he on the soup business, me on the soup business, my practice, the book, and this whirlwind of a live radio show and webinar. Who knew this life was even possible for me?
I’ve had insanely busy times in my life before, one of the most stellar being when I had taken a brand new job as an Assistant Professor in a brand new city alone with a five year old trying to finish my dissertation in three months. I worked seven days a week then, too, and lost my health, my patience, and a good chunk of my mind.
But this go around is different. Instead of trying to fit the radio show in here and there, I made the trip to the farm. It was a lovely day, from its very early beginning to its rather late end. The train ride out offered scenic views of picturesque towns nestled between pastoral scenes of late fall colors. Nicole picked me up at the station with that huge warm grin of hers, and when we got to the farm, Mike gave me a welcoming hug.
Nicole and I spent the day working on the radio show. Mike prepared a beautiful stir-fry for lunch, and served it to us outside so we could enjoy the treat of an unusually warm late fall day. After lunch Nicole and I and Denver, their new dog, went for a walk and talked about our dreams and visions for the show. I remember just soaking in the beauty of it all, and being pleasantly surprised that I remembered the names of the trees based on the shape and colors of the leaves.
I was a little startled at the memory of how way back in high school I had attended a week- long forestry camp. It had been a time of learning and connection with nature, and I had loved it. We had spent hours in the woods, getting to know the trees based on their bark, their leaves, even their smell. I felt so at home, so at peace, so joyful at that time. While walking on the farm I felt that deep pleasure again for the first time in a long time.
I spent last Saturday trying new recipes, armed with a slew of organic local vegetables that had been given to us. I remembered how before Thomas came into my life and took over most of the cooking duties, I used to cook for the next week on a weekend afternoon. I’d make a pot of beans and rice, a pot of soup or stew or chili, and maybe a pasta dish that we could eat throughout the week.
In my mind I had remembered this as a necessity, something I had to do to feed Jasmine and me during our weeks filled with too many activities and a too busy schedule. But Saturday, as I chopped and sautéed I felt an old and familiar yet surprising pleasure surge through me. I had forgotten how this rhythmic chopping, the intuitive mixing of ingredients and spices, the offering of samples to and getting opinions from loved ones had made my heart sing.
I’m totally delighted and a little surprised by the resurfacing of these wonderful memories. I think that they are coming back now because before I spent so much of my life in worry and fear that those memories didn’t have a place to resurface. I’m grateful that even though I’m getting busier, my heart is opening more and more. I’m looking forward to years of enjoying all that life has to offer. The books will have to wait until bedtime.
I’ve been taking a more active role in the soup business lately, making sure ingredient orders are placed in a timely manner, returning emails, and just doing whatever I can to help free Thomas up so that he can do what he does best – marketing, sales, and customer relationships. Today I dropped off ingredients to two of the centers for the developmentally disadvantaged that package our soups. I had been to each of the centers before, but never when the clients were working on our project.
As usual, even though I tend to grump a little inside when I have to do something I don’t really want to do, I ended up being grateful for the experience. At the Douglas Center there were about twelve clients sitting around a table eagerly waiting to begin. They had never seen me before, but when I identified myself as part of the soup business they were thrilled. “Nice to meet you, Cynthia!” “We love this job!” “This job pays good!” “We like working for Tina! (their project manager)” “This job is fun!” It truly warmed my heart to see their enthusiasm.
When I talked to the supervisor about stepping up production, he couldn’t have been happier. He told me that the reason the clients come every day is so they can work. They tolerate the other things they must do – social skill development, living skills development, etc., but they all loved to work. And because our product required a little more challenge – they needed to work together, be patient, and use their fine motor skills – they liked packaging our soups the best. Packaging soup was more fun than folding laundry or sweeping floors.
Driving on to the next center, I was amused. Last Christmas, Thomas and I had sat around our kitchen table packaging soups and went almost nuts. It wasn’t mindless enough that we could do it by rote, and not challenging enough to keep us from going nuts. Packaging those soups seemed almost like torture for us, but those clients I saw today saw it as a blessing. And it showed in their work – when I pick up the soups all lined up in a row they look like happy little soldiers. They do a great job for us.
One of the blessings of letting go of judgment is the ability to see from another’s perspective. There would have been a time when I would have thought of this job as menial – boring, dreary, dull, mind-numbing – and would have insisted that we find a packaging plant to do the packaging for us. There’s a big plant in the area that could probably package our soups faster and cheaper. They wouldn’t be so pretty, though, and I don’t know if our soups would taste quite so heart-warming without the joy our packagers put into it.
I am now practicing with different recipes to expand our line (research and development, I believe this process is called). We want some year-round products, so I am experimenting with a couple of rice and beans recipes, a bean and pasta salad, a chickpea salad… As I develop a recipe I always make sure it is delicious, easy to prepare, and nutritionally dense. Now I’ll pay attention to how easy it is to package as well.
In the past when I’ve had to multi-task I’ve often gotten overwhelmed and distracted. I’ve decided this time around that Spirit must think I can handle a book release, clients, an increase in my radio show AND a growing soup business all at once or they wouldn’t have been given to me all at once. And it’s mighty spiritual practice, being able to stay in my heart and see the gift in it all. Those beautiful souls this morning gave me presence and gratitude, and gratitude is one of the surest ways for me to get clarity of the bigger picture. I realized today that absolutely everything I am doing right now is born out of living from my heart, a commitment to helping others in any way that is mine to do with a whole bunch of love. And how amazing it is when all that love comes right back to me. For that I am truly grateful.
I’ve been working away at my own understanding of myself, my world, and my spirituality these past several years. During these years I’ve had a vision, a dream of what all of this work would feel like in fruition. I’ve always felt that there just isn’t enough compassion and love in the world, that God is truly Divine Love, that it is our responsibility and our pleasure to help others. I’ve also come to realize that each and every one of us has our own unique gift to share with the world if we could just get out of our own critical way to express it, and one of my greatest joys is helping people uncover that truth for themselves. It has been an amazing journey, a totally transformational one, at times extremely challenging and at other times incredibly blissful (and I don’t use that word often). When I look back at that Cynthia of ten years ago I barely recognize her.
There have been encouraging steps along the way. The soup business was born. A woman whom I met on the Hay House cruise offered me free coaching for the book I am writing in exchange for an endorsement. Her generosity allowed me to shift my writing tone from an academic one to a more personal, loving one. I started an internet radio show with a dear friend and student. All of these have been gentle introductions to a bigger world, to the vision I’ve held onto these past few years: a dream of our soup business being so successful locally that we could replicate it all over the country; a dream of a book and other sources that could gently guide others to love themselves and understand their own unique gifts; workshops and retreats that would allow us to share our gifts with the world.
While doing this work and holding onto this vision, I’ve spent a lot of time understanding abundance and prosperity from a spiritual perspective. It hasn’t been an easy lesson, especially when I’ve spent most of my life with the unconscious thoughts that to be poor is to be noble, and that I was unworthy of prosperity. Looking from where I am now back to all the worry and lack I lived in before, I understand that that wasn’t noble at all. And although it has taken a lot of mindfulness and positive, affirmative thinking to make this shift, I now know that being prosperous will allow me to do much good in the world. I am greatly looking forward to it!
Even though I have been working steadily towards my vision, the past couple weeks have been filled with so many miracles and so much wonderment around it that I feel that world is spinning around me like a top. A friend of a friend has generously given us much needed business advice, and may invest in our soup business once we get a little more organized. The writing coach invited me to write a chapter in her book, Extraordinary You, which will be distributed world-wide at the end of November. I’ve got another friend looking to book me into book signing events now. And at the beginning of this week we learned that the owner of I Am Healthy Radio wants to turn our radio show into e-books and have us host webinars. Of course, he will promote us, and produce us, and…. All we need to do is provide the content and bump up the number of shows to twice a month. When we were on a conference call to discuss it today, I asked him why he had chosen to help us so much. His reply? It’s a great show! More people need to be listening to it!
It’s amazing to be on this threshold of fruition of a vision that I dreamed about but never quite fully believed would materialize. And while I’m in a little whirlwind trying to understand how it’s all going to happen so quickly, I truly know that all is in Divine Order and Divine Time. My challenge is to keep myself centered in my heart and allow it all to come to me so I don’t get overwhelmed and frantic. So as I am navigating through these remarkable events, I truly appreciate your patience when my blog may not appear on Tuesday or Wednesday, or even not at all one week. Know that I am grateful to you and hold you in my heart, and I can’t wait to share all my adventures with you as my vision and dreams come true.
Last week I was talking to one of my best friends, trying to decide which of the many balls I’m juggling I should concentrate on keeping up in the air right now. I’ve been renting a room in a North suburb once a week as I build my client base there. I’ve been teaching my usual classes and I have an idea for a new one percolating in the back of my mind. It’s been so long since I really focused on my book I’m not a hundred percent sure what it’s about anymore, and with the release of Extraordinary YOU at the end of November, it would just make sense to get back to it. The internet radio show’s audience is steadily building, and maybe it’s time to make it weekly. And then there is the soup business, even though I’ve turned a lot of it over to Thomas. And to my surprise, my friend said, “The soup business. It’s your baby.”
Her comment stopped me in my tracks. I hadn’t really seen it that way, but she was so right – the soups are my ideas, my recipes, my packaging. Thomas has been absolutely integral in seeing it to fruition, but the soups themselves are my vision. I worked hard to come up with just the right blend of seasonings and other ingredients to make them all extremely healthy and delicious. I worked hard to make them all incredibly easy to prepare. I worked hard to find the right packaging and the right population to package the soup for us. And like many other times in my life, when I’ve finished what I had planned to do I had just moved on.
After I finished my Ph.D. I never referred to myself as Dr. Zeki – it’s just recently that I’ve put those hard-earned initials after my name. I had a very successful massage practice that allowed me to support both my daughter and myself. I let that go completely when it was time to do something new. I’ve never really stopped and patted myself on the back and said, “Way to go! That’s a job well done!,’’ Or as my Dad used to say, “Atta Girl!” I think part of the reason why is because humility is an important spiritual practice to me. Tooting one’s horn too often and too loudly seems to be an uncomfortable combination of inflated ego and insecurity. And yet acknowledging your successes can help you to understand who you are, to love yourself more, and to discover your unique gifts to share with the world.
So I thought about the soups. I love seeing our soups on the shelves of gourmet groceries throughout Chicago. Who’d a thunk it? I love doing tastings when toddlers try our two-pea with carrots soup and then ask for more, much to the amazement of their mothers. I love when a twenty-something vegan incredulously asks, “Really?!? All I need to do is boil water and I get this???” And all of this success in less than a year. So I thought, yes, she’s right. I’m going to focus on the soup business so we can see just how successful we can make it. Employ hundreds of the developmentally disabled. Donate hundreds of soups. Provide thousands with an easily prepared, nutritionally dense and incredibly delicious product. Why wouldn’t I? So for the past couple weeks I’ve immersed myself in the soup business and entered the land of the green foodies.
We had Paul, our soup angel, over for dinner last week. He brought along Rachel, who has also been in the organic/local/sustainable food industry for many years and who now works with him. Thomas and I were pleased that they enjoyed the good home-made food we prepared, and we enjoyed their company and their stories. Paul is a self-described old hippie, whose past was peppered with being a professional musician, a founder of an organic co-op, and presently the product developer for his company; his sensitive palate could even pick out the seasonings in Thomas’ secret greens recipe. Rachel had been in real estate but had moved into the local and sustainable food industry many years earlier. Both were incredibly passionate and committed to the production and promotion of organic local, sustainable food and social responsibility on every level. We had a wonderful evening, and I felt blessed to have met them both.
On Saturday we did a tasting at a nearby deli/grocery whose owner was also fully committed to sustainable food and living. The owner of a local hot sauce company was giving tastings next to us. His products were delicious, and during the afternoon he told us his story – he was the founder of a not-for-profit in a rough part of Chicago that taught neighborhood kids art and green living (www.coop.com). The kids were part of the production from beginning to end, and half of his profits went back into the not-for-profit. Amazing!
These are just three members of the green foodie community I’ve been absolutely delighted to get to meet these past few weeks. Without exception they have all been incredibly dedicated to making the world a better place, one healthy, tasty bite at a time. Definitely my kind of folks! And they are just the inspiration I need to make my vision come true.
Tomorrow is Thomas’ birthday, and since I am honoring the Virgos in my life with a blog, this one is for him. I met Thomas after a four-year self-imposed exile from dating. I had been in an absolutely horrible second marriage that made me stop short and really question myself and my love for myself. How could I think that it was okay for someone to treat me that way? Why did I feel compelled to live in that misery and drama? I spent that time looking for peace, through meditation, spiritual exploration, listening to my heart, and appreciating myself.
When I finally found that peace and self-love, I decided to try dating again. I spent about six months trying internet dating, meeting frogs that I didn’t even want to kiss. I decided to take a break from it all when Thomas sent me a long message. He said he’d looked at my profile and kept on going back to it. He was astounded how we had so much in common. He decided that he needed to contact me. Would I be interested in dinner on Saturday?
Now anyone who has internet dated knows that that isn’t proper protocol. First you email, then you talk on the phone, then you have coffee or lunch, then you work up to the weekend. But I liked his honesty and I was going to take a break anyway, so why not? Of course, it was the best date ever – we liked the same food, shared the same beliefs, and laughed and laughed and laughed. I felt like a princess.
As I’ve come to know and appreciate this soul-mate of mine my respect and admiration for him has deepened. No matter what curveball life throws him – and there have been many in the past few years – he handles them with strength, humor, and grace. Every day he wakes up with a smile on his face and love in his heart, and a quiet knowing that through it all God is present with him.
Thomas’ gentle spirit and caring is a magnet to all. Animals come up to him, babies smile and reach out to him, children invite him to play. When we go to networking events it’s just a matter of minutes before he has a crowd around him. It’s even more amazing because he isn’t loud or especially gregarious – he just has a real interest in everyone’s story, and he likes to connect and help those that he can. When I go over to join him, he enthusiastically remembers every one’s name and business and at least one little interesting thing he’s gleamed from their conversation. And he does this with everyone, not just in a business setting.
He is absolutely the epitome of unconditional love. He doesn’t give me advice or suggestions unless I ask him. His daughter is thirteen, the time when many fathers scratch their head and wonder where their little girls went, and then slowly withdraw from the odd, hormonally charged creatures those little girls have become. Although Thomas’ bewilderment is palpable at times (much to my amusement, I might add) he hangs in there, and makes sure to talk to his beloved daughter every night. It does my heart good to hear him coo and add comment to all her drama. He loves my daughter, too, and she talks to him with an ease I rarely see. I’ve learned a lot watching him listen, hold his tongue, and speak softly. He truly approaches all from a place of peace and love.
He reminds me of my father in several ways. He knows a whole lot about esoteric things, and if I am stumped he more often than not can answer my question. He gets amused easily. He will find a commercial on TV so funny he’ll laugh at it, to the point of tears, every time it comes on. His sense of humor is best described as corny. He reminds me of a ten year old when he retells a joke – he himself laughs so hard that you can barely understand what he is saying. When he sees me bogged down in seriousness or worry he easily brings a smile to my face and lets me know that all is truly well.
And I know that all is truly well. How could it not be, with the love and support of this amazing man? He shows me every day in many ways how deeply I am loved and cared for. And he shows this to all who are blessed to know him. Every time he takes my hand or gives me a kiss or just smiles at me with his eyes shining bright with love, I give thanks for the incredible gift that is Thomas. Happy Birthday, TJ. I absolutely ladorish you!
Jasmine is twenty-two today. Twenty-two! I can still feel her in my arms as we walked in the house from the hospital a few days after she was born… But today is not about baby Jasmine, it’s about my grown-up girl. And grown-up she is.
While Jasmine has always had wisdom and maturity well beyond her years, I noticed this shift into grown-up when she arrived back from her internship at Baylor College of medicine in Houston this summer. It wasn’t immediately apparent when I met her at the baggage claim –she was her usual travelling self – way too over-packed, pushing the boundaries of carry-ons and weight limits alike, me wondering how she managed to carry just her backpack – I could barely lift it – let alone everything else.
As usual, she was wearing an outfit composed of whatever clothing was clean and whatever would not fit in her luggage: a lovely beige tunic she had gotten at an outlet mall, a pair of blue jean shorts that showed most of her dancer’s legs, and the brown cowboy boots she had bought in Houston. And in her hand was a water bottle with a red beta fish we had bought when she first arrived in Texas. She had called the airline and argued with Security to be sure she could bring it home.
When I complained and asked her how she managed it all, she said she had no problem getting help with her luggage on the plane. I stood up and looked at her again. Of course she had lots of help. She was all grown up and drop dead gorgeous. While my heart tugged a little, I mostly smiled. She has never had a problem taking care of herself.
She has expressed her grown-upness in subtle ways. She has been making her own decisions, resolving her own problems, expressing gratitude for any and all help she receives. While she has always had confidence in who she is, she is now able to not only know it but live it. When she didn’t hear about her work-study, she immediately got on the phone and demanded an answer. She said she had worked too hard last year to not get her position this year. She didn’t even ask me to intervene, and completely handled the situation herself. Maturity.
And the unbelievable wisdom, the knowing of herself and what is hers to do. So much of her seems dichotomous. She plunges in head first with new opportunities and friendships and still gets horrendously homesick. When I was her age I rarely returned home, and had lost touch with most of my high school friends. Jasmine comes home whenever she can, and while she is extremely supportive of those friends who have moved away from Chicago, a large part of her wants her group to be exactly the same. And if a boyfriend doesn’t treat her the way she expects to be treated she gives him about three strikes and then he is out. She knows she has too much on her plate to have a lot of emotional drama. Yet when a girlfriend is in the thick of young adult drama, Jasmine is completely there with guidance and support. She believes that this is what friends do.
Jasmine absolutely adores all animals, and has to have at least one around her at all times (hence the red beta fish this summer). When she was in high school, we got another cat a week after we said our final goodbyes to her life-long companion. She had a bunny smuggled in her dorm room for two years, and a fish tank the year before. She works in the Marine lab at school, and the house she lives in now has five young women, two dogs, her bunny and her fish, and possibly a cat. She takes allergy medicine at least once a day as a result.
She spent the summer performing brain surgery on mice and studying their visual processing. She called each one “little man,” and covered them with a gauze pad blanket so they wouldn’t get too cold. Sometimes the surgery wasn’t successful, and at other times the mice were done with the experiment, and they needed to be euthanized. This was devastatingly difficult for Jasmine to do, and she thanked them for their contribution and blessed each one before she euthanized them. She could do this work because of her appreciation for all the new and amazing results the study is showing about brain functioning, and her love of science. She wants to be a neurosurgeon. Really.
And as I think of her today, I know she will be a successful one. A lot of her gifts aren’t mine. She has incredible patience and fine motor skills – she cross stitches for relaxation, which I find difficult and frustrating beyond words. She is extremely confident and has no problem speaking her mind to anyone –something I still struggle with at times. Yet her passion and compassion and love for just about everyone and everything is something we both share. I am so very proud of my grown up girl, and every minute of every day I feel incredibly blessed to be her mother. Happy Birthday, Jasmine, and here’s looking to the exciting years ahead.
I was blessed this long weekend to have Jasmine home, and it was exactly what we both needed. When she got off the plane we hugged a good long time, and I immediately felt enveloped in that special bond, the special energy we share. We spent a good portion of time together, a little shopping and a trip to the Indian restaurant, her curled up on the couch next to me napping while I wrote my newsletter, us giving ourselves manicures and pedicures while watching a couple of chick flicks. It was a restorative time; both of us had been nervous about the results of her procedure last week.
Maybe it was because I’ve been working so much lately and my awareness is so heightened, or maybe because she just needed her Momma so badly and/or I needed to mother her so badly. Whatever it was, our energy together felt strong and fabulous. It’s funny that when she is away at school we actually do more talking, checking in and chit-chatting. When we are physically together, there is a familiar comfort that is beyond the need for words. She rests in the safety of home. I rest in the gratitude and awe and unbelievably deep love that we share.
She was able to stay until yesterday. She boarded the plane without knowing her results, and she clearly didn’t want to go back to school until she knew. I put up a brave face, but I could feel her anxiety and fear. She had a rough night last night, as did I. I felt out of sorts all day until I heard from her with the results; she is basically well, just a little irregularity that needs to be checked in three months. But good news, and we both felt a weight lifted. When I called my mother to share the news, she asked me if I had been worrying. She knows that I have worked hard at removing that nasty habit from my system. Worry is a dark wet cloud that obscures the light of Spirit, and I have let go of a lot of it.
Thinking about if I had worried or not, I can honestly say no. I know that all is in Divine Order and Divine Time. It is more about the connection, of feeling her concern, her pain, her exhaustion, in myself. It’s being empathic. People who are empathic strongly feel what others are going through, and it is a very mixed blessing. It’s wonderful to feel someone’s joy. It’s much more difficult to feel someone’s pain.
A natural reaction is to try to fix things. As a parent or a spouse or a friend or a healer I want everyone to feel good all the time, and I want to have that happen in any way I can. Spiritual practice is discerning what is mine to do, and more often than not it’s about holding a loving space in my heart and providing support when asked. It’s allowing others to learn their lessons on their own instead of the way I think they should.
Most of the time I am able to do this, though heaven knows it is hard when the Momma Bear inside me is roused from her slumber. The reward of this space holding, this loving detachment, is that I have a strong, independent daughter who is pretty good at taking care of herself. And an honest, extremely loving and supportive relationship with Thomas that allows me to learn that sometimes the way he does things makes more sense than the way I would do them.
With my work I can allow healing words and energy to flow through me, without taking in or judging the sometimes unbelievable experiences my clients have gone through. This allows me to stay focused in my work, which allows my clients to release more easily, and to love themselves more.
Being empathic is often challenging – it’s constantly checking in with your body and heart to understand the feelings that are constantly in your energy sphere, and discerning whether these feelings are yours or not. Then comes gentle and loving detachment from those feelings that are not yours to carry. And while this seems to be an unending process, the upside of being empathic is a fuller, richer more spiritual life and a much more loving heart. I wouldn’t have it any other way.