Saturday, August 25, 2018


I am beginning to type these words at exactly 3:01 p.m. EST on Saturday, August 25, 2018. I do so mindful that this is the only August 25, 2018 in all of human history. I am also mindful that many people that were upon this planet when those digits ticked into place have are no longer alive. For all those who loved them this is now a significant date in a way that can only be felt in the very depths of the heart.

There have also been births this August 25th, and for them and those around them there will be celebrations of this event until said individuals meet their own day of departure. And then another date of significance will mark someone’s heart and calendar.

I am still here, continuing to type at 3:08 p.m. This is not my birthday, and as far as I can tell it will not be my day of departure either.

As far as I can tell.

It is an overcast day here in south Florida, though it is quite sunny inside of me. It is an ordinary day in most respects. I have engaged in spiritual practice. I enjoyed brunch with my beloved husband. I have worked, and in a while I will do some exercise. I am preparing for our Sunday service, and I have had my quarterly hairstyle. I am mostly anchored in this day. I am anchored in this moment and in this embodied experience. I am mostly present to the experience of August 25th, 2018, as it is happening in me. It is I guess an ordinary day, and yet in the context of what I described above it is also somehow extraordinary.

If I knew this was my last day on earth how would I choose to spend it? If August 25th, 2018 was the date that would be significant to those around me as the day I left the earth how would my living have mattered? How would the vibrational frequency of my being have touched all living beings? What traces would I be leaving behind? Will I have given more than I have taken? Will I have praised more than I criticized? Will I have loved outrageously, forgiven freely, and compassioned relentlessly? Will my incessant questioning have opened me to greater possibilities that are now gateways to future generations? Will the wounds I have healed be fertile ground for the transcendence of others?

It is 3:29 p.m. and it is still August 25th, 2018. I am still breathing, my heart is still beating, my fingers are still typing. The preceding questions warm me and move me to heightened awareness and sharpened intention. I will live what remains of this day as mindful and as prayerful as one who knows his time is limited. One day in the not too distant future I will be gone. But today I am here. I am fully, freely, even passionately here. For the sake of those who have died and in honor of those who were born: I am here.

It is 3:33. How is this day happening in you?

Thursday, August 16, 2018


One of my most favorite definitions of prayer I have adapted thus: Being quiet enough to hear God saying nice things about you.

Being quiet enough to hear God saying nice things about me.


So as I am willing to let go of all the theological language, the thee’s and the thou’s and the rote prayers of the ages…as I am willing to stop talking at some far off God…as I become still and quiet and receptive enough I begin to hear a faint affirming whisper right in my own heart.

And again, I say wow. I do not think of prayer as something that I am doing. I experience prayer as something that is always happening inside of me and sometimes I am attentive enough to know that it is happening.

Prayer is an alignment IN God. It is the attunement IN Godness. When I am attuned IN God I feel God moving IN me. I sense it. I hear it. I think it. I relate to and from it. As I listen to IT I intuit Its Voice. IT is always speaking of what IT is. It includes me IN that wordless narrative. For IN God I am of God. IT describes Itself and so me. I am the Word of God. And I am invited to fully become that word. When I step back and gain some internal distance from my own constant narrative I can begin to hear that Voice. I begin to feel and hear words of beauty, grace, wisdom, Truth, and love. I begin to hear nice things being said. About me.

God Itself is saying nice things about me. I am done with interrupting that Voice. I am through with speaking over it. Arguing with It. Contradicting It with my own demeaning commentary.


Be quiet.

Can you hear it?

Will you listen?

Right now. Be quiet enough to hear God saying nice things about you.

Kind of makes you blush, doesn’t it?

God loves that.

Thursday, August 9, 2018


The veils of resisted grief were evident upon his face.

“I learned that people are not there for me.”

How revelatory those nine words. How packed with programming and imprinting and pain.

Oh, me too my friend. Me too.

I have learned from multiple examples in my own experience is that it isn’t so much people aren’t there for me. People are just frequently not there.

In a culture as pain aversive as is ours it is not surprising to me that others often don’t show up when I am experiencing pain or turmoil. Most people in our world will do almost anything to avoid their own pain. We have become masterful at denial, deadening, and suppression. I personally believe this has far reaching and even tragic consequences. And it is understandable. But if you cannot be there for your own pain you certainly are not going to be there with mine.

There is an unprecedented haze in most eyes these days. This is partly because our brains were not designed to process the incredible amounts of data that are coming at us in each moment. We are also privy to tortuous images that startle and disturb us. We are seeing scenarios on television and on the internet that are shocking. Violence is part of our everyday culture. Mass shootings and suicide bombings happen so frequently that we file them away as part of our current culture.

And so being “there” is a full-time practice. Being truly “here” a full-time job. Keeping my heart open and available is a primary practice at this point in my journey. While I am committed to being there for others I must first be here for me. For the experience of my own experience. To attend to my own pain, loss, estrangements, disconnections. The better I get at that the more equipped I am to empathize and attend to you.

My suffering largely abates when I take the “me” out of “people are not there.” While I am open to a direct and intimate connection with a very small number of heart-comrades I do not live in an expectation that people should be there for me. It is a set up. Any time I pain myself with “should” and with “me” it is an aperture for potential pain. People are sometimes there, and often they are not. The point is not how much others are there. The point is how much I am here.

Releasing the expectation that you will be there softens my heart and opens my eyes. I become more available and “here.” I notice my own demands about how others should be there for me. I feel the grief behind that demand, a grief that compounds whatever else I may be facing. I breathe. I open. I release. I am here.

In my pain I learn that I really am here for me. And that makes me the perfect person to be there with you.

Thursday, August 2, 2018


Tweet: The power of personal commentary to obscure what actually is astounds me! Commentary can shroud what is real, true, beautiful. It leads me to do battle with what is. Am I truly seeing life as it is, or only what I am making it mean? Empowering question for this day.

Response: How do you stop the commentary?

I am glad you asked.

The above is one of my Tweets from this past week, and a question that was posed by a reader. The exchange not only inspired me to answer the question from my perspective, but also gave me an idea for an extension to this blog.


What feels truer for me with every passing day is that the distinction between what is occurring and what I making it mean is everything in terms of my own inner peace. There is for all of us a commentary that is always running through the field of the mind. There is a constant inner dialogue that is labeling, interpreting, evaluating, and storytelling. If you read that closely it is an acronym for LIES. It is the dynamic of how the mind content operates. It is not in and of itself a problem or an enemy.

It simply is.

Our suffering does not come from the LIES. It comes from believing and identifying with the LIES. It comes from taking actions and relating based on those LIES.

The LIES are the effects of how we were programmed and conditioned. They are the foundation of our core beliefs. They are an operating system. They form and lens and a paradigm.

And they are not true.

As we evolve and grow spiritually the relationship to those LIES begins to change. More space becomes available in the mind. We become more masterful at watching rather than believing. It isn’t that the LIES go away, though there are many who say it is so. We are programmed for survival and while beliefs do indeed change trying to make the commentary go away is resistance and resistance always strengthens and solidifies what is resisted.

As we become more and more proficient at watching and wakefully relating TO the commentary it has less and less hold over us. The thought stream flows in and on while we simply notice. We see it, we feel the effects, we watch, notice, and let pass.

We do not try and stop the commentary. That increases its velocity. We recognize we do not have to react to it. We do not have to believe it, or act based on it. It is just thought stream. It has no inherent meaning. It says nothing about us, or about anyone.

This is not welcomed news to the ego. And it is the liberation of the Self.

Goodness, beauty, and truth are everywhere present. They are just beneath the constant commentary that shrouds the perfection that is beyond interpretation.

Don’t believe what you are making this mean, and just watch what happens.