Tara Lemieux, Buddhist Author, Spiritual Mentor…Friend.
Everyone you see, you say to them
“Love me.”
Of course you do not do this out loud:
Otherwise,
Someone would call the cops.
Still, though, think about this,
This great pull in us to connect.
Why not become the one
Who lives with a full moon in each eye
That is always saying,
With that sweet moon Language
What every other eye in this world
Is dying to Hear?”
― Hafiz
I had the most frightening experience recently, and one that will be etched in my mind as one of those ‘forever moments’ as I know in some way, it has forever changed me.
Truth be told, and over this past year, I have had a few of these sorts of forever moments.
And with each one, I’ve had to work just a little bit harder to center myself and clean up this ‘spiritual mess.’
Being sick is really hard.
Being sick every day, even harder.
And, I know I’m a much weaker version of what I once was—but, my heart and my spirit, are still quite amazingly strong.
I am resilient, but not so completely unbreakable—as perhaps, this process, has left my spirit feeling just a bit ‘raw.’
And yet, each day that I wake up, my heart spills over with gratitude, before these two feet ever hit that floor.
Because, I’ve learned that healing is much more than a bottle of medicine; true healing rises up from a much deeper ‘within.’
So, today I believe I will be redirecting these sails and setting down a brand new, and much better course.
One that surrounds me with the most love and joy….because…love and joy are the very best, and only true spiritual medicine.
In closing, and to all of my doctors and ‘friends’—this is my very best, and most simple ‘hope manifesto’…I just hope it makes a little sense to some.
Dear Medical “Community”…
Dear doctors, dear lab techs,
Dear difficult-to-pronounce specialists…
I am not your experiment, your head scratch, or very best guess… your bother in the middle of the night when no one else is there on call…
And, I am not the one to get shuffled on again because you’ve just reached your maximum thinking point.
I am tired of surgeries… of the pin pricks and pokes…
The looking over of charts and notes which are written in a language I just don’t understand…
I am tired of the wheezing when I walk gently these few stairs.
And the million and one side effects from all of your pills and potions?
I am tired of those, as well.
In treating my heart, you’ve broken my soul.
And now, it seems, you won’t even look me in these tired eyes when it is that I sit in front of you these days.
Is that your guilt? Your own fear?
I am afraid, too.
I am afraid that these moments passing will never be found again.
I am afraid that each day I will feel myself grow just a little bit weaker, and with no help in sight.
And I am afraid that those I love most will get that call in the middle of the night.. the one that will take their breath away and change their lives in forever sorts of ways.
I have this fear, too.
And yet, I hold hope stronger than each and all and every single little shred of this fear…
Because, I know…so very down deep in my heart, that even this darkness will someday define my light.
And on those nights, when fear challenges me the most—hope is always near to help my heart smile again.
They say, hope rises in the most mysterious of ways, and on these such days—when it is that your heart is finally open to it.
My heart is always open to hope. I suggest you let yours do the same.
Because, where there is hope… you’ll find a limitless possibility…
And in that space of limitless possibility,
That’s where all the best miracles begin.
So, why don’t you come out and meet me right there?
The Thing Is by Ellen Bass
to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you’ve held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.
From the outside and looking in, and to all other strangers and passerbys—Harry Stamps was just another ordinary man. He wasn’t famous, never invented anything noteworthy or awe-inspiring (unless, perhaps you’ll consider his infamous Bunny White Bread sandwich), and he probably received a few ‘squinchy eyes’ for some of his more ‘pronounced’ views on life.
Unless, that is, you ask his daughter—in which case, she shall carefully recount all of those wonderfully delightful ‘stuff-in-between’ moments that made her so very happy that he was her Dad.
Word of warning, though, as a daughter’s view of her Dad will often rival the very best of “hero” novels around…
What began simply as, “Harry Weathersby Stamps, ladies’ man, foodie, natty dresser, and accomplished traveler” is now taking the internet by storm—capturing the very best of daughter views of the man she called her Dad.
And, in doing so—she’s given us all a glimpse of what it means to have a life, ‘well lived.’
Now, the obituary and her subsequent video have gone viral—touching the hearts of millions of readers worldwide. If you’ve not yet heard of Harry Weathersby Stamps, you soon will—as the obituary seems to be making it’s rounds everywhere.
Daughter, Amanda Lewis, told the Sun Herald that her father ironically wouldn’t even know what ‘viral’ means.
“He wouldn’t know what going viral means. He would have thought that was a disease he contracted, which would have excited him to have another illness to lord over folks,” said daughter Amanda Lewis, who wrote the obituary. An attorney who lives in Dallas, she wrote it during the trip to Long Beach, where Stamps died at home on Saturday, surrounded by his family.
For what it’s worth, and when it’s my time to go—I hope it’s the ‘stuff-in-between’ moments that get stuck in people’s heads.
Here is just a short excerpt of her tribute; the rest can be read online right here.
“Harry Weathersby Stamps, ladies’ man, foodie, natty dresser, and accomplished traveler, died on March 9, 2013.
He excelled at growing camellias, rebuilding houses after hurricanes, rocking, eradicating mole crickets from his front yard, composting pine needles, living within his means, outsmarting squirrels, never losing a game of competitive sickness, and reading any history book he could get his hands on.
He despised phonies, his 1969 Volvo (which he also loved), know-it-all Yankees, Southerners who used the words ‘veranda’ and ‘porte cochere’ to put on airs, eating grape leaves, Law and Order (all franchises), cats, and Martha Stewart.
He particularly hated Daylight Saving Time, which he referred to as The Devil’s Time. It is not lost on his family that he died the very day that he would have had to spring his clock forward. This can only be viewed as his final protest.
Finally, the family asks that in honor of Harry that you write your Congressman and ask for the repeal of Day Light Saving Time. Harry wanted everyone to get back on the Lord’s Time.”
I’ve been in a bit of a funk, beginning yesterday and carrying on into today.
I have been really good throughout recent challenges in keeping my emotions (mostly) in tow; as, I’ve realized there’s no sense wasting a moment to fleeting foolishness.
But, every once in a while, life….hits me…hard – and in this case, in the form of a voice mail message that I wasn’t able to respond to as quickly as I would have liked and/or intended.
I have learned (through much effort) to keep myself grounded in my moments – I don’t dream outwards too very far, and I don’t think too much about the things that have passed. In the moment is my new ‘comfort zone.’
And, I’m finding that those close to me are having a difficult time understanding my new ‘orientation.’ Some, have even challenged that I’m too weak or too fearful for honest forward thinking.
But, it’s not that way, at all.
I stay in this moment, because…this is the best moment of all. It’s the best moment of all – because, there are no ‘what if’ scenarios here… no worrying or carrying on. It’s the time when I can connect to everything fully and all around me… keeping myself, most centered of all.
I like now. And I love my ‘this moment’s right here.
When I walk outside, I want to close my eyes and know what ‘wind’ really feels like. And, coming in…when I hang up my coat, I want to savor that ‘outside smell’ that lingers still in the woven fabric.
I’m here in this moment; because, this is the moment that I love most of all.
And yet, yesterday – I felt a bit ripped from that coziness, and comfort…shocked awake from a deep, deep sleep. Disoriented…discouraged…and looking back at my ‘this moment’ and almost missing it a bit.
Hence, my funk – because, I feel a bit disconnected from now.
And, I miss my friend ‘this moment’ quite a bit.
Also, I think chocolate should always be ‘prescribed’ for funkiness.
I love Groucho Marx. Not so much a fan of Woody Allen, but I suppose if Groucho liked him—he couldn’t be ‘all bad.’
The two enjoyed a near life long, and quite comedic, friendship marked notably by the exchange of some of the silliest letters around.
Though, there was a short spot in 1976—when Groucho learned his dear friend Woody was a bit perturbed that his last letter had gone ‘unanswered.’
Here is the response, written in such a brilliantly sarcastic Groucho style—here is the response.
Enjoy!
March 22, 1967
Dear WW:
Goodie Ace told some unemployed friend of mine that you were disappointed or annoyed or happy or drunk that I hadn’t answered the letter you wrote me some years ago. You know, of course, there is no money in answering letters—unless they’re letters of credit from Switzerland or the Mafia. I write you reluctantly, for I know you are doing six things simultaneously—five including sex. I don’t know where you get the time to correspond.
Your play, I trust, will still be running when I arrive in New York the first or second week in April. This must be terribly annoying to the critics who, if I remember correctly, said it wouldn’t go because it was too funny. Since it’s still running, they must be even more annoyed. This happened to my son’s play, on which he collaborated with Bob Fisher. The moral is: don’t write a comedy that makes an audience laugh.
This critic problem has been discussed ever since I was Bar Mitzvahed almost 100 years ago. I never told this to anyone, but I received two gifts when I emerged from childhood into what I imagine today is manhood. An uncle, who was then in the money, presented me with a pair of long black stockings, and an aunt, who was trying to make me, gave me a silver watch. Three days after I received these gifts, the watch disappeared. The reason it was gone was that my brother Chico didn’t shoot pool nearly as well as he thought he did. He hocked it at a pawnshop at 89th Street and Third Avenue. One day while wandering around aimlessly, I discovered it hanging in the window of the hock shop. Had not my initials been engraved on the back, I wouldn’t have recognized it, for the sun had tarnished it so completely it was now coal black. The stockings, which I had worn for a week without ever having them washed, were now a mottled green. This was my total reward for surviving 13 years.
And that, briefly, is why I haven’t written you for some time. I’m still wearing the stockings—they’re not my stockings anymore, they’re just parts of my leg.
You wrote that you were coming out here in February, and I, in a frenzy of excitement, purchased so much delicatessen that, had I kept it in cold cash instead of cold cuts, it would have taken care of my contribution to the United Jewish Welfare Fund for 1967 and ’68.
I think I’ll be at the St. Regis hotel in New York. And for God’s sake don’t have any more success—it’s driving me crazy. My best to you and your diminutive friend, little Dickie.
Groucho
From Huffington Post:
10-year-old Sophia Bailey-Klugh wrote and illustrated an endearing letter to U. S. President Barack Obama and, as the daughter of a gay couple, thanked him for supporting same-sex marriage. She then asked for advice on how to respond to those who saw such a thing as “gross and weird.” Her letter, and the reply she soon received, can be seen below.
Note: Obama’s response has since been verified as genuine by an official spokesperson.
Transcripts follow each letter.
(Source: Huffington Post; Image of Obama via)
Transcript
Dear Barack Obama,
It’s Sophia Bailey Klugh. Your friend who invited you to dinner. You don’t remember okay that’s fine. But I just wanted to tell you that I am so glad you agree that two men can love each other because I have two dads and they love each other. But at school kids think that it’s gross and weird but it really hurts my heart and feelings. So I come to you because you are my hero. If you were me and you had two dads that loved each other, and kids at school teased you about it, what would you do?
Please respond!
I just wanted to say you really inspire me, and I hope you win on being the president. You would totally make the world a better place.
Your friend Sophia
P.S. Please tell your daughters Hi for me!
Transcript
President Barack Obama
November 1, 2012
Miss Sophia Bailey-Klugh
Dear Sophia,
Thank you for writing me such a thoughtful letter about your family. Reading it made me proud to be your president and even more hopeful about the future of our nation.
In America, no two families look the same. We celebrate this diversity. And we recognize that whether you have two dads or one mom what matters above all is the love we show one another. You are very fortunate to have two parents who care deeply for you. They are lucky to have such an exceptional daughter in you.
Our differences unite us. You and I are blessed to live in a country where we are born equal no matter what we look like on the outside, where we grow up, or who our parents are. A good rule is to treat others the way you hope they will treat you. Remind your friends at school about this rule if they say something that hurts your feelings.
Thanks again for taking the time to write to me. I’m honored to have your support and inspired by your compassion. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it to dinner, but I’ll be sure to tell Sasha and Malia you say hello.
Sincerely,
(Signed, ‘Barack Obama’)
Not everything is what it seems.
At first glance, and in our haste, we could miss the most beautiful perfection that is there patiently waiting for us to turn our gaze ‘just the right way.’
What if, the true magic of life could only be discovered somewhere deep within the shadows? Would we still be so sad when those shadows settled in?
If we just paused, just a moment, to really look and to see….perhaps, hiding in all that spiritual trash we might just find…
Two long time lovers, who were sitting at an impasse…with all the weight of this world pressing down and onto their shoulders…
You see, the young woman, she felt so ‘disconnected,’ and separate…and so sadly pulled away from her ‘most complete whole’…
That she spent all of her hours… lost inside of her thoughts… looking ‘outward,’ instead of looking in…
That she never even, not once, noticed, that he was always right there…waiting for her to come back to ‘we’ once again…
And when she let her thoughts go just a bit still…
She found, there was much more room in her heart…to reach out and love fully again…
Because, life isn’t always what it seems at first glance…it’s when we take the time to let our hearts rest, that we can be still enough to see the true message inside.
What might first appear to be a steaming pile of spiritual trash…could actually be hiding something quite magnificent inside.
And, remember….
“There is strong shadow where there is much light.”
― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Götz von Berlichingen
Oh, yes… and p.s. – These two shadow lovers? They lived happily ever after…(the end)
Today, I watched from my window as a group of boys raced back and forth. Behind them, and trying desperately to keep up the pace, was a younger boy—maybe just six years old.
“Go away,” they shouted. “You’re too little to play with us.”
And then I watched, as the littlest of the boys…hung his head sadly and walked away.
So, I stepped outside and called him near, as I could tell that he needed a smile.
“Come here,” I called out. “And now, tell me…just what is this awfully big matter?”
Oh, how I remember that feeling of always being too ‘so very small.’ Chasing my big brother and all of his friends perilously through those thick woods. I wanted so very much to be part of their much bigger group—to laugh and to play. But always, and inevitably, they would ‘shoosh’ me away.
“You’re too small.” they would shout. “Go home, we don’t want you around!”
Sometimes, the earliest of lessons are the ones that stick with us the longest. Because, I will never forget that feeling of being so very small. I suppose, that’s why it is that I’m always on the lookout for little ones being pushed away.
“Come here,” I said. “Let me show you a little something. Do you see those trees, how they move?
And how the birds, they’re way up their looking down at you. And, the wind? Can, you feel the wind against your cheek? Oh, and how about that sun way up over there? Close your eyes, and tell me…can you feel the sun’s light shining down on you?”
“Yes,” he sniffled, as he scrunched up his eyes and turned his face towards the sky.
“Well,” I whispered secretly to him, “all of that is the Universe—and you’re a big part of that, too. Everything that is, and everything that was…and everything that will ever be, it’s all a part of you.
And, all that stuff you feel inside of your heart? That’s a little piece of it within you. So, you see…with all of this great big Universe inside and around you, you are not so very small, at all.”
And, though—at six years old, I’m not sure just how very much of these words may have settled in. I could tell, at least, as he looked up at the sky—that he felt just a little ‘bigger’ that day.
We all feel small, sometimes.
And, there will always be something much bigger than our own hearts, and with the capacity to completely humble our souls.
In life, there will always be challenges. And, there will be times when we face what may seem to be insurmountable odds.
But know this—nothing is ever too big, and we are never too small.
So, shine on and shine through—because, after all, the Universe is within you.
And always remember, no matter how hopeless the odds—even a hummingbird can put out a forest fire.
“Be the Hummingbird”
To focus a bit on health and healing…just a few days, I suspect…
Sending much love, and the most brilliant of lights to all and to everyone ~
*namaste*
