giving selfishly

giving selfishly

who looks outward, dreams

who looks inward, awakens
(carl jung)

a simple plaque in a store window
a simple phrase to ponder
reminds me to put aside
my five-year-plans
to examine the past fortynine

and to realize
that I am not alone
and that receiving help
is not weakness
that strength
comes from
helping hands
embracing arms
and open hearts

and to understand
that my children
are no longer children
and that the best gift
I can offer them
is a helping hand
and embracing arms
and an open heart

and to let them know
that those gifts
from me to them
are inviolate
and irrevocable

and to remind them that
they are not alone
that receiving help
is not weakness
and sharing themselves
their real selves
(without the happydance)
with someone
is the most selfish
most wonderful
human experience
to gift another

and to gift themselves

So I’ve been thinking...

So I've been thinking...

Clara used to say that, which always elicited an “oh oh” look from Fred. But, whether or not my thoughts cause that Oh Oh feeling in others, they sometimes do in me.

Sometimes I avoid meditation and over-fill my time so I can ignore issues I should address. A good friend of mine seems to sense when I haven’t been reflecting or asking myself hard questions, and somehow always has the perfect book to force introspection. And then he follows up with the questions I have been avoiding.

The latest Rx in the Bibliotherapy, which I just returned, was “Destructive Emotions” – the record of a week-long conversation between the Dalai Lama and leading scientists around convergence in understanding the neurology and spirituality of emotions, and the idea that even “good” emotions can be overwhelming, and become destructive.

So, I’ve been thinking. About love. About pride and expectations. About random pieces of old conversations with Jake and Sara. And the stereotype of the overbearing Jewish mother. And I wonder if Jake or Sara feel that my pride in them is dependent on a certain GPA, a particular career, some pre-defined life path.

I hope not. I’ll be sure to tell them that I am proud of who they are, not what they do. Because I can see the potential to develop a contorted happy-face dance. That would be very sad. That would be Pride turned Destructive.

Made me think….

There's a poem bubbling on this, but I need to find some time to meditate...

A perfect Autumn day...

Looking west along the dog-run, my North Woods are on the right, filled with deer and turkeys. And we saw a small black bear in the neighborhood a few months ago.

Life is good.