The Higher Purpose of Our Tears

What is the purpose of a tear? When these small drops of water well up in our eyes and cascade down our cheeks, what good do they serve us? Bringing them forth, more often than not, is heartache, disappointment, pain... something that we would rather avoid. Yet these tears can be the catalyst to great healing if we let them. So, I guess the question becomes, what is the higher purpose of a tear?

Look for the Blessings

I wrote a short story once about a man who lived his life carrying around a large sack of stones. This sack bent his back, contorted his body, and hardened his spirit. Then one day he met a little girl who asked to see inside the sack. She gently pulled out a stone, buried it in the ground, and from it a beautiful tree emerged. As it turns out, they were not stones after all. They were seeds, meant to be blessings to make his life's journey easier. The man had not understood this, and had instead carried what he saw as stones with bitterness and resentment, unnecessarily burdened by the weight he carried. The gifts within the seeds were always there, but the man had to look with different eyes and choose to plant the seeds they truly were. That is the way all challenges work. We can carry them our whole lives, or we can cultivate the gifts that lie dormant within through looking with a different perspective and transforming the stone into a seed of grace.

Continuing to Begin Again...

It's here. 2012. A year shrouded in mystery and filled with countless theories ranging from the world coming to a catastrophic end to a new age of consciousness where humanity takes a quantum spiritual evolutionary leap. As for me, my focus is on a smaller scale. This year is about baby steps, and if the universe does happen to continue into 2013, I hope that by this time next year those minute steps have brought me more in alignment with that feeling of being in the flow of life again.

The Linoleum and the Lady

Recently it happened... The full blown meltdown of mind and body, the only remnants of myself a blubbering mess of gasping sobs lying on the kitchen floor in my bathrobe. To be in that moment of complete despair while at the same time outside of myself thinking "What the hell is wrong with you? Get up!" is like some twisted form of The Truman Show where I'm watching my own drama unfold while simultaneously writhing within it. As much as I could feel some form of pilot light of strength and hope deep within me, what won out was the overwhelming compression of months of riding the Gravitron of life tumult. When the ride finally slowed the grief vomited forth in a tsunami of despair and exhaustion.

Remembering to be the Water in the River

Recently I've realized that with all of the adjustment to academia and stresses of single momdom I have forgotten the most important part of life - to connect to the Source of all that is good, the Source that emanates from within me and surrounds me at all times. With the loss of this connection to the Tao of life I have become more like the boulder in the bottom of the stream than the river that flows with ease above. I have felt underwater, stuck in a way that I have never experienced before. The only moments I peer above the surface are when I remember to connect to the Divine, remember to feel the blessings each breath contains, and allow myself the freedom to release the weight of my incessantly chattering mind. In these moments I move again, as though I am released from the mass of jagged rock by a silent miracle, and for a blink I am instead the water, flowing along with grace and ease. I've had about enough of the muck and mud at the bottom of the stream, I'm ready to feel the warmth of the sun and breathe in the cool autumn air again.

One of "Those" Days...

Today was one of "Those" days. You know the ones, where from the very get-go things are topsy-turvy and life feels more like a spinning, inverse roller coaster than the merry-go-round that Hollywood hypnotizes us into believing exists. It was a day when the feelings of the limitations of single-parenthood drove right over me, squashing me into the reality that I'm only one person, and there is no way I can do it all... at least not with grace and sanity. There is bound to be extensive road rash.

There is No Potato

This is a story I recently shared on Facebook. It is a perfect beginning to my Life is Blessed blog:

I had an old friend call me tonight. A couple times a year he spontaneously calls, seeking wisdom for some challenge he is working through. He has known me since I first began on the Life Coach path, and it felt good to be of service. I wanted to share with you the story I told him. I have shared it many times with clients and friends, and maybe it will benefit you as well...