Sometimes what we rely on won’t be close at hand.
I needed something to lean on, and so I leaned on this tree.
Everyday, subscribers receive in their inbox, a Daily Soul Glimpse: a nudge from my soul to yours to help inspire self-inquiry and relationship with your soul. Below is what they received today:
Yesterday, I was bored with the book I am writing. So bored, I left the desk, picked up The Hobbit that I had been reading, sat in the sun and read. I hadn’t been able to get into the adventure of Bilbo and his friends. But, yesterday when I sat in the sun I was like a kid- giddy with excitement.
Bilbo and his friends had just outsmarted the dragon, and they were inside his lair, where all the riches were. Soon, the little Hobbit would be going home, a place he dreamed about being during his entire adventure.
Still not wanting to go back to my writing work, I took a walk. I walked the usual path- down the boulevard near our home, then back around. Seemed a bit stale and boring this time, just like my writing and I wanted, if nothing else, for my walk to last longer.
I imagined another way I could go to get home- a way I hadn’t been before, but knew the road well enough that it curved up and would lead back to the boulevard. But, just as the road began to curve up, I looked to the left and saw a gravel path. I knew the river was near.
But, that didn’t entice me as a river here in Los Angeles is is not the Mighty Mississippi of my childhood. Instead it is a man-built, concrete tube where sometimes water flows, and most times it doesn’t. I took this path anyway.
It moved right along with the golf course and the “river,” which of course was dry. But there were trees and quiet- and it was new. At every bend or hill, I’d tell myself I would turn around and go home. But, my curiosity won at every bend and down every hill. Soon, I was hearing traffic noise again, and was under the great overpass of a busy highway. The enormity of its pillars and the concrete above me made me feel small and vulnerable, and honestly so was this path.
I did not know where it led. I was alone, and at one point I saw what I thought was a loose dog, a Doberman no less, and my heart stopped. Thankfully, his owner appeared. “He’s chasing rabbits,” he told me.
Continuing to walk, following my curiosity the path led to many paths. One seemed to go around in a circle, although I did not venture it to see. And another led over a little bridge where water actually ran under it. Further, a bubbling creek adorned with river rock. The kind one could step on to get to the other side. It was getting dark, though and I would be calling my adventure over- until next time when I would go farther. Perhaps over that river rock.
We act as though comfort and luxury were the chief requirements of life when all that we need to be really happy is something to be enthusiastic about. ~ Charles Kingsley
On my return home, I found I was no longer bored. I was enthused. Although I did not meet a dragon like Bilbo, only a doberman with an owner, I felt I had gone on an adventure. I thought about my curiosity, and how it has been my courageous friend in many of my walking endeavors. It is one of the areas in my life where I may be afraid to travel new ground, but still I continue. I am also this way inside my soul. Curious to know what else is in there….But, my writing and work in the world, I tend toward timid.
As I said, I was bored with my work, and left it. I thought about how I found that new path. It began by walking the same old one, and then wanting to walk a little further. To be this way in my work, as I am in my soul and on my walks then, is what I’m after. To keep going and be curious of new ways to see. New ways to express. New. New. New.
Curiosity saves us from boredom. And the more detached we are in that area of our life, the more curious we will be. Curiosity will always bring us somewhere new. Give us new insights. New ways of seeing. And when this happens, we find we are enthused.
Just like that quote above- money and fame, even the riches in a dragon’s lair won’t bring the happiness that a new adventure can. That a life of doing work, which fulfills us can- that a life lived with enthusiasm can. This is what I believe we are all seeking.
What area in your life feels dull and uninteresting? It might be that it is an area where we need to pay less attention, but it also may be an area where we only need to bring new eyes to. In what areas are you more adventurous and curious? Do you find these areas bring more joy into your life? How might you travel a new path? How might you be more daring? Be curious, and notice when you are enthused and when you are not.
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Giving up want brings us home.
I had an affair with want. It didn’t last long, but long enough to do damage, and enough to learn A LOT. In truth, the affair may not be completely over. But, today I caught a glimpse, a rather extended glimpse of what happens when the affair is over.
Giving up want brings us home.
This past week, I have been catching glimpses of my home in Minnesota- streets and neighborhoods, favorite places I’d visit, and homes I’d lived in. One in particular haunts me, and I’ve been feeling a pull to return to that home. I even wrote my old neighbor, and said, ‘Let me know when our house goes up for sale.’
I caught another glimpse today. It was of Descanso Gardens. It is a beautiful sanctuary of nature near our home now. I followed the glimpse and spent the day.
I did not particularly WANT anything from my day spent there. I just simply caught a glimpse of it in my mind, and followed. Before heading home, I sat on a bench near a stream. I opened up my journal, and began writing.
I wrote of our home, the one that’s been haunting me. The one we left in pursuit of something MORE. I wrote: ‘I don’t care about that big life I wanted, that life I left my house for.’ In that moment, I felt that pursuit of MORE as over.
I had a similar feeling the other day. I knew all the things I’ve wanted would come and when they did, they would not matter. What matters is what I’ve gained inside, and now return to because of that journey. What matters are the relationships I still have and how much more they matter now. But, what I left my old life for doesn’t seem to matter anymore. In this moment, the wanting is over. It’s a relief to feel this. To give up want leads us home.
We live in a culture where it is perfectly acceptable to WANT more. To get more. To do more. I’m not dismissing more. But, I am questioning WANT. In Psalm 23: I shall not want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures.
In Wizard of Oz– there’s no place like home, after an adventure. Home is where we come when we no longer want. Does it mean we no longer live? We give up desire? We don’t pursue dreams? We just lie down in green pastures and suck on a piece of grass all day? No. It does not.
It means we have more moments without the constant pull from WANT, and we hear more of our Soul. Our heart. We catch glimpses from inside, and we follow them. It is more of a nudge, and less of a grab and go, go, go. It feels softer, and even more real. Simply, we move from a deeper place.
As, I leave the gardens, I write: ‘WANT, I forgive you. I see what you have done. You took me from a home designed by the hopes of a new husband and wife, a new life. When I gave this up for “greener pastures” you had me, and you knew it. Look at what I gave up for you. And now I receive glimpses of where I was before, all the places I left, and I return to look. All the images in my mind are the same, and I have no more regret. This time, when I look you are no longer there taunting me. Pulling me. And without you all I see is home. All I feel is home. Home, and more home.’
To return now, I know this is all there would be. But, I’ve left that home. My children, one grown, the other growing. I don’t know where I will be, but I know home is the continual theme. I know home is the lesson. I know home will continue to expand and awaken within me, especially when WANT is not walking along the side of me.
I am called forward by the sound of a bird. It is the only sound I want to hear. Soon I hear them all:
traffic noise that I don’t want to hear;
a wind chime;
an old porsche- the driver pushing on the gas to get it to rumble;
a child’s laughter, and the sound of water hitting the car as its being washed by father and son;
a weed whacked.
a tiny lizard running deeper into a bush;
groceries being taken out of a car;
two friends talking loud. A young boy paaaes by on his cell phone;
a young mother walking her baby.
There are too many out today. But who am I? No one more special than the next.
More birds. A place in the shade;
they turned on their front yard fountain. No one home to listen.
All of these beautiful spaces with no one to sit and listen, to the fountain. The birds.
it is hot. Sun exposing me;
I have a great opening line. I’m afraid to go deeper;
I don’t want to see people or have them see me;
like the lizard that runs to the dark everytime a footstep is felt.
a writing room. The one I see in my imagination. More like a cottage. Moved away from the main house. I walk there with my tea. Smiling. Ready to enter.
selfish I’m sure. To want nothing but birds. Wind. Quiet. A cottage to write that only I enter into;
aware I created a life before knowing who I was. This life now makes me feel confined- in moments;
longing for a life that will one day come. But, only after the kids are raised and the money is raised. The career established. Or am I just being dramatic?
wandering the streets to try and find a space that is just mine.
I know the pursuit is selfish. The longing of it makes me unhappy. Soon I will enter my over priced rental. Family of four. No room to write. Only a wall space between the bedroom closet and drawers. My husband will probably be in there sleeping. It’s Saturday. I will feel pressure to join the family.
I hear be grateful being chanted from the positive thinking cult on my left, and on my right I hear some form of my dad and the Buddha tellling me it’s too bad I lost my desire to only be useful- and nothing else.
I find a place. I’ve been here before. It’s on a graffiti filled rock. Above the Rose Bowl. The only space where there’s shade. I see people have been here. But no one is here now.
What’s the rustling in that bush? Probably another lizard.
One of the results of soul work is we will be less occupied with ourselves, which is a benefit in many ways, and one simple benefit is we will be pulled in by intoxicating beauty that is everywhere. We will immerse in a moment.
On my walk this afternoon, I was completely taken in by a scent. Above me was a tree, budding with small flowers. I took off a small branch, and breathed in its scent all the way home. My daughter was studying at the dining room table, and I put the branch to her nose. She stopped. Closed her eyes. “It smells like Hawaii.” My youngest daughter was in her room, and had not been speaking to me for two days. I put the branch to her nose. She resisted, but took in a whiff. She began talking to me again. Smiling. Laughing.
We must find what makes us happy, if even for a moment. We must allow space to “stop and smell the roses,” and invite others as we do.
The Soul Reporter
Same cloud. Varying light. Same Source.
It’s difficult to say the gray cloud is worse or uglier, knowing it’s the same. When I took these pictures, I realized the cloud was like me. Many days of gray l’ve had this week. Today more light is turning my perspective more bright.
When we go into a dark space, we don’t really hate our lives or ourselves. We just hate how in varying moments, we see our lives and ourselves.
Varying light. The light moves. Our consciousness wavers. From bright to gray to bright again.
When I was new and young to the wake-up journey (what I call the road I am on as I become more awake, expand my consciousness, unfold my evolution), I quickly came to know the dark spots- those gray masses of funk, eventually break away toward more light. More life. It is part of the journey. I used to know this. I trusted this. But at times the dark got so dark and lasted so long, I got caught up in it, and I forgot. Now I know this again.
What hurts you, blesses you.
Darkness is your candle.
Let’s honor both dark and light, and remember the source is always the light- it just varies. Changes. Goes away. Comes back. Or so it seems. It’s part of the wake-up journey.
The Soul Reporter