Ok I know gators are protected and all, but that is not the point of the question. So let’s leave that train of thought alone. Anyway, I have eaten gator tail. And to the question, “what did it taste like?” I would answer, “Sort of like a combination of pork and chicken.” I have now come to realize that when I described it that way I potentially destroyed a person’s ability to have a completely new experience. Because in reality gator tail tastes exactly like. . . gator tail.

I have been noticing lately that when we have a new experience, we immediately categorize it as being “just like. . . “ something we have experienced before. This is our attempt to fit something new into our already known world. And it is a reasonable thing to do. But is it valid? And does it allow us to experience all that the world has to offer. I don’t think so.

A Zen master said that once a child learns his colors he becomes blind. I realized that the master was talking about this same tendency to put what is new into a box called “already know it.” So a child, who up until he learns the word “green” sees an incredible variety of colors in the grasses and the trees, is forever afterwards condemned to see just plain green. What color is the grass? Green. What color are the leaves? Green. What color is Kermit? Green. And frogs on a pond? Green. Experience has been replaced by a word. And soon we are confusing the learned word with the new experience. And we do not even notice that we have annihilated the possibility of new through “already knowing.” Understandable? Yes. Comfortable? Perhaps. But what are we missing?

Is the small world of “already know” or “this is just like” the world we want to create? Or would we like to step into the ever expanding world of “this is completely new and unique for me?” Try a little experiment. Take a moment and look out the window, find a tree or a single leaf and simply look at it. See it and don’t name what you see. How much more do you see? How much more can your life be?

I started blogging after I had some great experiences while on Maui with The Peaceful Women. I would love to tell you about them, but I will not. I am coming to the conclusion that any time I create an expectation, whether it is chicken or green or life-changing, I will short-circuit the whole experience for someone else. Suffice it to say that I loved it and I am sure over the years, hundreds of other women are going to love it, too. Each in her own way. Each having her own experience.

I had a completely different idea for this week’s post.  But then something happened.  A sad story, both expected and unexpected.  Moose, my daughter’s St. Bernard had to be euthanized.

It all started with a phone call. “Mom can you call the mobile vet to come to the house?  Moose has had a seizure and I know its time,” Tiffany called sobbing.   But that is not actually when it started.  It started two weeks before when Moose was diagnosed with advanced lymphoma.  The vet said he had anywhere from two weeks to a month.  The reality is that he lasted less than a week.  But that is not the story either.

The story is actually about my daughter’s ability to love completely in spite of knowing that giving her heart is going to lead to heart break. My daughter adopts rescues.  But not the cute kind of rescues abandoned by people who have had to move, or run out of money to feed their pet .  She adopts the unadoptable.  And Moose as he was renamed—very aptly as you shall see—was definitely unadoptable.

The first thing I noticed about Moose was the size of his head.  I have never seen a dog with a head that big.  It literally filled the whole back window of my daughter’s Toyota Camry.  The next thing I noticed was his body.  Incredibly skinny (making the head look even larger) and covered with sores, bleeding sores. Every time Moose lay down and got back up he left patches of blood and ooze.  He was a true mess.  Tiffany saw him and fell in love.

Doug and Tiffany with Moose their ring bearer

She took him to the vet who prescribed various medications.  She bathed him every other day with medicated shampoo.  She fed him.  She fed him a lot.  Her bills for pet food tripled.  (She already had two other rescued dogs and two cats.) And she loved him.  Moose thrived.  The sores healed.  His coat grew back in, thick and glossy.  And he gained weight—over 40 lbs.  Now his gigantic head fit his body.  He became what he was born to be.  An incredibly beautiful, a stop and look and can you believe it beautiful, St. Bernard. His disposition was beautiful too.  He was calm and gentle.  He actually became the ring bearer at my daughter’s wedding.  There was Moose walking up the aisle with the standard keg and collar of a St. Bernard.  And there he was standing serenely with the other bride’s maids and groom’s men after he had delivered the rings.  That was Moose. And now Moose is gone.

Tiffany is home now.  The house feels very empty.  Moose was a very large presence.  She is grieving, and she will continue to grieve for some time.  Loss hurts. Loving fully hurts sometimes.

Now here is the rest of the story. Tiffany does not simply reserve her unconditional love for animals.  She loves her family and her friends unconditionally.  Having experienced hurt and disappointment  at various times , she continues to love.  Knowing the risk of  heart break will always be there, she continues to love  fully.

We all talk about unconditional love in terms of acceptance of the other or of understanding.  But there is something we leave out of the equation and that is courage.  To love fully knowing that you are opening yourself up to not just the possibility but the inevitability of great pain takes tremendous courage.  And that is why I had to write this today.

I am in awe of my daughter.  I am in awe of her ability to continue living and loving unconditionally.  I am in awe of her courage. How many of us have that kind of courage?  Do I?  Do you?

I have not written my weekly blog because I am in the process of laying out my book, one I have wanted to publish for years, called “the Frantic Mother’s Handbook”.  The layout is just about completed and I should have it to the publishers by the end of the week.  If all goes well it will be “on the shelves” (for shelves read Amazon.com) in about a month. Modern publishing is really amazing. Anyway I did want to post something this week.  So in honor of Cher’s closet and my office (which I also cleaned up) I am posting this excerpt from my up-coming book.  Enjoy!

THE SPIDER WEB

What if our to-do someday list is a list of joyful potential?

I have just had a very unexpected experience.  I just spent the past four hours doing stuff that needed doing, but that I did not want to do, and I have had a great time doing it.  How?  It all started with a question.  What if all the little niggling things that drive us crazy were put in our lives so that by doing them, or solving them, or eliminating them, we could feel joy?

It all started with a spider web, not a living functioning spider web, whose very existence spelled death to mosquitoes and flies.  No, it was one of those defunct, the spider’s moved on, dust catching kind of spider webs.  This particular web was on the ceiling just within eyeshot as I lay in bed.  I stared at it every night, and again every morning.  Each time I saw it I would say to myself, I really must get something to knock down that spider web.  And each time I would do nothing.  Sometimes I even saw myself broom in hand, neatly snaring the sticky fibers and sending them on their way.  This went on for months.  And then yesterday in the middle of a rain storm I looked up at the spider web and wondered if the darkened shadow I saw was the result of the superior dirt catching ability of the web, or horror of horrors, had my roof began to leak?  Without a moment’s hesitation I climbed up on a chest to feel the ceiling.  It was dry, but while I was up there I cleaned off the web.  The whole process took less than thirty seconds.  And there I was, back down on the floor, when a feeling of absolute delight washed over me.  Each time I looked at the now clean space where the web once hung in dirty disarray, I felt delighted all over again.

Now is this crazy or what?  I spent how many minutes, day after day, wanting to do something, and feeling guilty because I did not do it? And then in thirty seconds I did it.  And as a result I felt wonderful.  Why didn’t I do it earlier?  I have no idea.  But that one act has really changed my world.

Imagine.  My world is no longer populated by messes small and large, placed there to generate feelings of guilt, but rather is a world of opportunities for joy fixes any time I want.

This is an excerpt from a soon to be published book that I wrote called “The Frantic Mother’s Handbook”.  After my Peaceful Woman’s Retreat on Maui I re-read it and I wanted to share it with you all. (By the way that is southern for at least one person. My hope is that I am really sharing it with all you all.) By the way in the book I begin each of my ponderings with a question and end it with a prayer.  Prayers are wonderful things if praying is your thing.  If not, you can simply skip the prayer part and stick to pondering.

What if scarcity is essential for the creation of abundance?

If we are to stop the hectic pace we all experience from time to time in our lives, we are going to have to make choices. Making choice means that some things we now see as essential may have to be eliminated.  So before we even begin the process let me share an image that has altered my way of seeing things.

I love flowers.  I do not love their care and feeding about which I know nothing, but I do love seeing them in bloom brightening my living space.  In honor of this love, I had a 36’ planter built when I renovated my house.  A friend who loved flowers volunteered to plant the planter.  All I had to do was go to Home Depot, my home away from home, and buy the plants.  I bought what I thought was enough, but they only filled about 1/3 of the planter.  I was sent back to the store again and again.  Eventually the planter was stuffed full of brightly flowering plants.  They never got much bigger than they were when they were first purchased, but there were so many that I really didn’t notice.  Eventually the flowers, and the plants to which they were attached, withered and died.  I do not know if this was the natural order of things, or simply what naturally happens to plants unlucky enough to have me for a caretaker.

I decided to replant the planter myself.  This time, since I was doing the work, I put in about ¼ of the previous number.  Initially the planter looked sparse and not particularly pretty.  But within a couple of weeks the plants grew large and full and the planter was filled to overflowing.

What if our lives are like that?  We plant them so full of things that nothing can really flourish.  But when we think about cutting back, it feels as if our lives will become shabby and sparse.  What if God’s promise of abundance is just that—a real promise that He is more than willing to keep?  But what if abundance cannot appear in overstocked planters or in overstocked lives?  Is scarcity essential for creating abundance?  It is something to think about.

Lord, please give me the courage to allow abundance to enter my life by showing me ways to create the space in which it needs to flourish.

During our “Maui Passage” with the Peaceful Women as we were coming back up from the “pools” where we had swum (now that is a weird word) and lunched, I was following one of our own who was moving very slowly. She was carrying two heavy bags.  I will explain in a minute how I discovered how heavy they were.  And she was limping slightly.  The limp was due to her being injured a couple of days previously.  But trooper that she was, she was not letting her injury prevent her from participating in any of our many excursions.

Look. Up in the sky! It's a. . .I haven't a clue.

We arrived at a very steep and long staircase built into the cliff. I knew that for someone who had hurt her leg this was going to be a very arduous climb, made even more so because she was carrying those two bags. So I offered to help by carrying those bags for her.  I need to backtrack a minute.  Before I could make this offer, I had to do one little thing.  I had to ask the person behind me to carry what I had been carrying so that I would be free to help my overburdened collegue. The person behind me readily agreed. And thank you whoever you were, because without you there would be no “rest of the story.”

So unburdened I made my offer, which was promptly refused with a sort of “I can do it myself.  I don’t need any help” attitude.  I recognized the attitude because it is one with which I am intimately familiar, since it is usually my attitude when someone offers me help of any kind.  But at that moment in time, my determination to help was greater than her desire to refuse. And so she acquiesced and handed over her bags—both of them.  Yes, that is how I discovered how heavy they were.

My friend, now unburdened almost floated up the rest of the steps and back to the car.  She was obviously enjoying her new-found lightness.  And because she felt so light, she could move much more quickly (Her words I believe were “Wow, I can walk at a normal pace now.”)  This allowed everyone else to also get back to the vans more quickly.

This whole incident got me thinking.  How many times has my “I will do it myself.  I don’t need your help” attitude slowed down or even prevented something from happening? Something important?  Something necessary?  I don’t know.  But I do know it has happened many more times than once.  And I noticed something else.  Before I was able to assist someone else I had to ask for assistance.  Wow.  And here I thought that by not asking for help I was helping others.  Eye-opening.

What if we all took that on?  That if we truly want to help each other—those whom we know and those not yet met—we must begin by asking for help ourselves.  Help to do that which we cannot do.  That is relatively easy.  Help to dig ourselves out from the overwhelm of our own lives.  A bit harder.  And help to do that which we believe only we are capable of doing.  Now there is a challenge.  Are we up to it? I don’t know.

What I do know is that I am going to be open to the possibility that there are many in my life who would, could and can help me—thus freeing me to do the same—and allowing the flow of my life and theirs to continue unblocked and free.

A couple of days ago I was talking to one of our Peaceful Women and she mentioned that she had a problem with asking for money for the work she did.  I acknowledged that I had the same problem.  She said that Cher said that by not being paid for what she did she was “coagulating” the flow, which I am sure is true.  She said that she did not want to coagulate the flow, but not wanting to do something and actually being able to do something else takes more than just deciding to be different.  It actually requires seeing something that you have seen for years, in a whole new way.

Giver and receiver-which is really which?

So I began a conversation with myself.  Self, I said, what do you like about giving to people? I love the way it makes me feel, said I.  And what about being on the other end of giving?  I don’t like it, I responded to myself.  Or at least I do not like the way it makes me feel. (Yes, I really do have these kinds of conversations.  Anyway. . .)

And then a light bulb went off.  I realized that I saw the opposite of giving as taking. And taking something feels lousy.  Then I realized that there was another word out there—receiving.  And how does receiving feel?  For me it feels kind of warm and wonderful. So I pondered a bit more and realized that in taking I am acting as an independent agent.  I do not need anyone to give for me to take.  But receiving requires a giver.  And true giving requires a gracious receiver.  Receiving allows the double delight of giver and receiver. There is a mutual dance of joy in the very act.

A couple of weeks ago I went on a most amazing retreat to Maui, Hawaii. There were 13 facinating women from both the US and Canada.  Each day we went to a couple of beautiful sites in Mauii, most of which were not known by tourists.  At each site we were left to our own devices to experience the place in our own way and our own time.  This is the story of my experience of “The Labyrinth.”

The Peaceful Women walking a labyrinth on Maui

The Labyrinth was built on top of a lava flow that jutted out into the Pacific Ocean. The breeze was blowing and the pacific was blue and my first thought was that I could simply stand and look out over the Pacific and become lost in the beauty and feel of the scene.  But that would not do.  I had come to walk the labyrinth.

Now I have to admit that I have walked labyrinths in several places.  There was one in Tecate, Mexico at Rancho La Puerta (a really great spa) that I walked several times.  There is one at a church that I have also walked.  It is a peaceful thing to do. So off I went, expecting? peace I guess.

Before I continue I must explain that I have always been the leader of whatever I was doing. I have a theory that it has to do with height.  Luckily for me there was someone in our group who was significantly taller than I and even more willing to take the lead.  So I had become a follower, much to my delight.  She entered the labyrinth and I followed.  My leader walked along slowly and when she came to a rock that had rolled out of place she would lean down and carefully replace it.  How nice.  My path was being cleared.  I was not being called to do anything at all other than stroll along.  Even my pace was being set for me.

I noticed that I was becoming more and more relaxed.  A sense of peace was descending.  This was cool but not unexpected.  I strolled along, path cleared before me, pace predetermined and when we got to the center, prayers said by someone else.  All I had to do was “be”. What a great feeling.

Afterward I was asked by the leader of the group–how can you take that feeling into your every day life? What a great question. Definitely worth pondering.  And so I pondered. And this is what showed up.

A labyrinth has a very interesting design. You know where you want to go–the center to be exact. And at first glace or step it seems as if the path to the center is pretty straightforward in a circular kind of way. But as you walk along, things change.  I seemed to get close to the center and then as I followed the path suddenly I was walking away from my destination.  And so it went.  I would get closer and then further away.  I would be walking in what seemed the right direction and the be going in what felt like the wrong direction.  All very confusing and sort of upside-down. Still, the peaceful feeling remained. Why?

I realized that it was because I trusted the design–which meant of course that I trusted the designer.  That complete trust in the designer of the labyrinth was the reason for my continued (to quote a country song) “peaceful, easy feeling” as I walked along.

And then it came to me. My life, especially as it relates to business, seems to be going in the “wrong” direction right now.  I am sure this is true for many of us.  I have been in a state of worry for quite a while.  What  if I truly trusted in the designer of my life?  What if I saw the twists and turns and apparent backtracking as no more than part of the path of the labyrinth of my life.  What if the design was perfect? And what if all I had to do was trust?

So now when I feel myself beginning to get uptight or worried.  I take a deep breath, remember the labyrinth and relax into that peaceful easy feeling of total trust.

Well, here goes.  I have been thinking about going back to writing now for quite a while.  After my vacation (?) in Maui I have not been able to stop thinking about writing.  Not sure if that is good or bad.  Anyway thoughts and ideas, or as I like to think of them, “possibilities” are bursting forth, and so for a while–until they stop bursting I am going to share them with? who knows, I certainly don’t.  I guess that is half the fun.

I was at a super-networking forum a few weeks ago.  Although I was there representing my main business–running an exterior design company–the last day I decided to go to a couple of “writer–or, so you want to get published” type workshops.  It was interesting and a bit disheartening.  At least for those of us who feel that writing is at least an avocation if not a vocation.  Both speakers were agreed about one thing.  The writing of the book was the least important part of getting published.  One said unless you are absolutely driven to write hire someone to do that for you, so that you will have the time to do the very important stuff–like promote the book you did not write.  She did add that if you absolutely must write, that was ok.

I had to think about that for a while. Was I a writer? That I could not answer.  Was I driven to write? Yes.  Thus the blog. Tomorrow I am going to write about an experience I had in Maui last week. I walked a labyrinth and the experience changed my world.  Stay tuned.

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