By Debra Basham, on October 13, 2021 From my journal entry of an exercise during class on mediumship with Barbara Brodsky:
You need not teach anything, Dear One, just live as your own consciousness evolves. You have been here before — but not exactly!
Think for a moment about the park you live in now. “Separate” homes are owned and lived in yet you share the streets. Beyond that, you share the sky, the sun, the wind. Even those express with uniqueness in each case. One may be shaded because you face the east or west. EVERYTHING fits into this dynamic.
You have been dreaming of human existence on Earth without fear of death. You have whiffs of the ripple effects. Yet, not you, nor I, nor THE ALL THAT IS knows exactly what will unfold. Like a storm. Much is known, but nothing is known exactly as it will be.
Even the cookies that you bake time-after-time using the same ingredients in the precise measurements is subject to distinction.
Child, what song lifts your heart?
He’s got the whole world in his hands.
((The song began to play in my mind, including an ad lib verse of he’s got Deep Springs Sangha in his hands.))
Notice how your thinking mind wants to argue a bit with the word “he.” Your heart does not demand a change in the word. Your heart agrees with the purity of the intention in that word. Notice how some demand a special application of the gender-sensitive pronouns, preferring “they” to “he or she.” Once the heart has opened to its true capacity, none of that will generate reactions.
You will be present in the presence.
You will have peace that passes understanding.
Dear One, another song?
((Peace is flowing like a river, flowing out from you and me. Flowing out into the desert setting all the captives free.))
I had shared a quotation from a film about not asking a person who had lost a loved one how he or she is but to ask instead, “What was your loved one like?” I included a link to the film with a disclaimer, “It was a bit too preachy for my taste.” My daughter commented that probably means she would like it! When my sister commented (asking me to define preachy), I took down the post.
I looked up the definition of preachy: having or revealing a tendency to give moral advice in a tedious or self-righteous way.
Then I looked up proselytizing: the action of attempting to convert someone from one religion, belief, or opinion to another.
Somewhere in my bodies I can feel the space of Loving What Is (Byron Katie) and Whatever Arises, Love That (Matt Kahn).
Oh, my…. Byron Katie says there are only three kinds of business, and asks: Whose business are you minding?
Notice when you hurt that you are mentally out of your business.
If you’re not sure, stop and ask, “Mentally, whose business am I in?”
There are only three kinds of business in the universe: mine, yours, and God’s.
Whose business is it if an earthquake happens? God’s business.
Whose business is it if your neighbor down the street has an ugly lawn? Your neighbor’s business.
Whose business is it if you are angry at your neighbor down the street because he has an ugly lawn? Your business.
Life is simple — it is internal.
Count, in five minute intervals, how many times you are in someone else’s business mentally. Notice when you give uninvited advice or offer your opinion about something (aloud or silently).
Ask yourself: “Am I in their business? Did they ask me for my advice?”
And more importantly, “Can I take the advice I am offering and apply it to my life?”
By Debra Basham, on October 7, 2021 One must have chaos in oneself in order to give birth to a dancing star.
~ Friedrich Nietzsche
Recently I had a very tender sharing with a dear friend. It was tender because each of us is doing the best we can to love one another and that process isn’t always neat and tidy.
Let the record show, the person I was sharing with would be considered one of the highest conscious beings you could meet. I hold that view of this friend as well.
I also see places where I project onto her. In fact, I even said that to her: “I miss having opportunity to project onto you because I know when I do that I am afforded the honor of seeing my own self.”
What we see is not a PERSONAL self.
What we see is the universal SELF.
Jerry Ashmore, dharma teacher at Empty Circle Zen Group in Hobart, Indiana, said, “Even before we practice it, enlightenment is there.”
Jung wrote, “To confront a person with his shadow is to show him his own light. Once one has experienced a few times what it is like to stand judgingly between the opposites, one begins to understand what is meant by the self. Anyone who perceives his shadow and his light simultaneously sees himself from two sides and thus gets in the middle” (Jung, 1959, p. 872).
One website suggested a simple process for working with shadow.
1. Make a list of 5 positive qualities that you see yourself as having (e.g., compassionate, generous, witty, etc.).
2. Look at each positive quality that you wrote down – describe its opposite (e.g., unfeeling, stingy, dull, etc.).
3. Picture a person who embodies these negative qualities vividly in your mind. Roughly, this is your shadow.
Mooji (Jamacian spiritual teacher from the UK) says, “Our ego is a Siamese twin, and we cannot put it somewhere else. It is important to recognize you are not it… To stop being what you are not there is something you must understand. Whatever you can see or experience, you are not this. You cannot judge your real weight by carrying a donkey on your back. When you cannot bear your self anymore, you are a good candidate for freedom.”
The Basham family continues to experience the ripple effect of loss.
Wednesday, September 29, 2021, at the exact time family was graveside with John’s brother, Jerry, in Michigan, we received news that our former sister-in-law had just passed in Texas. Her passing was not a surprise, and was in many ways a relief to her son, Jeff.
One week to the day, October 6, 2021, news that Jeff’s sister passed in her sleep was a surprise, and anything but a relief.
As long as we can be made to believe that one thing is good and another evil, we shall remain outside the Garden of Eden, and one day have health and another day disease, experience youth and vitality one day and age and debility another day because those are the pairs of opposites and they follow one another in cycles. It is only when we do not desire wealth or harmony any more than lack or discord, but seek only that which was original and primary in the Garden of Eden, that we rise above these opposites into eternal life.
Joel Goldsmith, The Thunder of Silence
As these additional conditions weave themselves through our psyche like summer weaves its way into fall, I am led to an interview by Brian D. Smith (Grief 2 Growth). Brian is sharing have said to his wife that he had not had signs for the 5th anniversary of their daughter’s passing, his wife pointed excitedly at a sign on a vehicle by them: I AM RIGHT HERE!
Brian share that with Becky (Rebecca Austill-Clausen) during an interview about her 3 Secrets to Communicating with Your Deceased Loved Ones, in which she makes these points:
Believe that the afterlife is real.
Trust in your inner self.
Recognize that love surpasses all boundaries (even physical death).
Perhaps it is merely shadow (ego beliefs) that can separate us from fluent awareness of loved ones who have passed….
By Debra Basham, on September 25, 2021 We are feeling sad with the passing of John’s eldest brother, Jerry, shortly before midnight on Friday evening, September, 24, 2021.
The date was already special – grandson Brad and Christina got married exactly five years ago!
This photo of the five Basham brothers was taken at the wedding. Jerry is on the far right. Next to him is Jim. Jim passed from cancer in 2017. Far left is Greg, the youngest. Jack, and John next to Christina. I married into this bunch 55 years ago and I have grown up with the Basham brothers.
After John’s dad passed, Labor Day became a Basham event. It was a way to keep everyone together and for many years the “Labor Day Reunion” was held at the home of Jerry and his wife, Jeanne. Complete with copious amounts of beer, a talent show (I use the term talent loosely) on Sunday night, where the audience could number 50 to 100. Memories of Labor Days gone by are now pressed into our minds like a first kiss.
And this year, Jeanne found Jerry lying on the floor when she got home from the store on Labor Day.
Jerry had an abdominal aortic aneurysm.
Thankful Jerry survived over six hours of surgery.
Thankful he survived a second surgery the following day.
Thankful he was able to be taken off the ventilator, was alert, and asking for family a few mornings later.
Jerry had been experiencing low back pain, and it was getting worse. This summer, he said the pain would be so bad, he “would have to sit down or fall down.” It seems incomprehensible now that no one thought of the possibility of an aneurysm.
Thankful Jerry was making baby steps toward recovery when John and I mustered our post-Covid bodies and traveled to Tennessee for Courtney’s wedding.
Thankful many words of love and encouragement came by text and video wishing Jerry a happy 79th birthday on Tuesday, September 21, 2021.
Tuesday night, Jerry was back in ICU after his condition took a turn for the worse.
Thankful Jeanne and their kids and grandkids were all together with Jerry in the ICU on Wednesday. (This had not been allowed because of Covid risk.)
Thankful Jerry was lucid and expressed his wishes, choosing to receive comfort care only.
Thankful the hospital staff was able to keep Jerry comfortable.
Thankful Jerry was able to receive hospice care in the hospital.
Thankful to know Jerry’s last hours were very peaceful.
Thankful Jerry was a care giver. As his daughter, Lisa, said to me yesterday, “There was nothing you could ask of Jerry that he would say no if it was within his human ability to do it.”
The Daily Word for September 24, 2021 is so Jerry.
Over the years I have given generously of my treasure and shared my time and talents. Giving has blessed me beyond measure and remains an important part of my spiritual life.
But sometimes I resist gifts, deflecting another person’s generosity or rushing to reciprocate. Today I practice receiving with willingness and ease. I realize all gifts derive from God, yet come to me through many channels.
I remember how I feel when my gifts are received gratefully and with happiness, and how it fills my heart to know someone feels cared for and valued. I give that gift to another by letting myself receive with grace and gratitude, completing the circle of sharing and love.
Thankful Jerry has taken such loving care of all of us through this.
As Jerry prepared for the six-hour emergency surgery, he assured his wife and daughter he was not afraid, “If I don’t make it, I will wake up and see Scott. If I make it, I will wake up and see you. Either way, I will be happy.”
Wow….
Fourteen years ago, Jerry and Jeanne lost their son, Scott, at 42 years of age. One of the toughest things a parent can go through, losing a child.
Regular readers of this blog are familiar with the Sacred Stories, and you totally get the “continuity of consciousness.”
I have mentioned Pamela and Alan Johnson, and Supernatural Love and Life After Death (FaceBook).
Yesterday, John went into the laundry room to get some batteries for his earphones. I heard some grumbling sounds and asked what was going on.
“Oh, this shelf fell down,” he said.
I went in to see if I could help. He had gotten the shelf put back up.
As I looked, however, a dowel pin that was holding up the second from the top shelf was laying on the shelf above the one that had fallen. Now, get this picture. These pins go in so tightly, you need a pair of pliers to pull them out. What are the odds that two pins, on two different shelves, would suddenly fall out?
Right….
When we had the second (and more extensive) mold remediation work done here in the tiny house, the cabinets in the laundry room were torn out with the wall. Only the uppers had survived. I had made a detailed drawing and asked Jerry to build a new cabinet. But Covid hit and we all went into lock down.
I knew this was Jerry’s way of communicating to us. It was perfect. What better to get our attention than what he likely considered to be an unfinished project!
A much younger Jim (left) and Jerry (center) and John (right) with a head full of black hair!
Thankful John has had years of practice hearing from family and friends who have passed: Joseph Willmeng; my dad; Jim Sink, to mention just a few.
Thankful we know we are not just these bodies.
Thankful we know love is eternal.
Thankful we are here to remind one another, especially at those times when we feel sad.
By Debra Basham, on September 20, 2021 John and I rallied from Covid sufficiently to make the trip to Tennessee for our granddaughter’s wedding. There are sooooooo many significant points about this wedding.
Courtney’s brother, Brad, was on emergency stand-by to officiate if John and/or I were not recovered sufficiently to make the trip. He had just officiated at the wedding of a good friend. But Brad told me how relieved he was to not have to do it! And he said this was his favorite line in the ceremony:
We have gathered here, not to create a union, for that union already exists. The soul’s commitment to marry another happens long before the legal wedding day and in truth we have been invited here to witness the love already affirmed between Courtney and Josh…
That love had already created our great-grandson, 8 month old Jackson, who was brought to the altar by Gampie (John) in a little red wagon with a sign on the back announcing proudly, “Here comes the love of your life!”
These two are absolutely adorable!
Here we are recessing with Jackson.
A friend (who has been very concerned about John and me) wondered aloud if it would be more considerate to postpone the wedding, given the current surge in cases. In truth, Courtney did postpone her wedding because I have been absolutely terrified of Covid.
Courtney and Josh were willing to wait 18 months to get married so that I would officiate their ceremony.
This is the oddest part….
I am not sure I could have officiated if John and I had not just recovered from Covid.
You see, all along it has been my heart’s desire to neither get nor give the coronavirus.
Because those risks were removed for me, I was able to be fully present with Courtney and Josh on their wedding day.
It was a beautiful venue, and she wanted the ceremony to be outdoors, but the skies opened up and it rained all afternoon!
As an interfaith minister, I learned that rain on your wedding day is said to be blessings “raining” down from great spirit.
I also found this online: Rain on your wedding day is considered good luck because it signifies that your marriage will last. As you know, a knot that becomes wet is extremely hard to untie – therefore, when you “tie the knot” on a rainy day, your marriage is supposedly just as hard to unravel!
It is my pleasure to present to you for the first time, my granddaughter, and her husband: Courtney and Josh Yarber!
By Debra Basham, on September 14, 2021 Three weeks ago today John and I were babysitting with Jackson, our 8-month-old great-grandson, while his mom worked (from G-Ma’s house).
That evening we got to see the barn on the property at Bradyville. Soooooo happy for Brad and Christina!
Three weeks feels like a lifetime.
John received the Monoclonal Antibody Therapy (mAb) infusion on Friday, September 3. That went well.
Two days after the infusion, I discovered John had spent the night in anxiety. He was still in a state of sheer panic that morning. We did everything we could think of to shift his state: EFT, tapping; Self-Havening; icy-gel mask, sucking on a lozenge; acupressure. Nothing really alleviated the shortness of breath, panic-feeling.
John was exhausted. He could not sleep, unable even to lie down.
By early evening, I reached out to my Dharma Sister, Doctor friend and she and her husband (also a physician) concurred that his symptoms were impossible to evaluate without labs, a chest x-ray, and an EKG. It was a holiday weekend. No office hours until Tuesday. Their suggestion was to get him to ER immediately.
I said, “OK. I will take him.”
“No!!! YOU cannot take him. It is not safe for you or for the others for you to be in a waiting room,” she text-shouted at me.
I called Linda and said, “I need you or Larry to take John to ER.”
Within minutes, Larry had John in the vehicle headed to the hospital.
Words do not describe the waiting. And the worry…. Thankfully, Larry kept Linda updated, and Linda kept me updated.
My sister, Janis, and my brother-in-love, Larry, drove over and sat in their car in my driveway while I sat on the front porch, both of us masked, just so I did not have to wait alone. When the mosquitos began to bite, they headed home. By that time, information began to be posted on John’s electronic chart.
Linda and I were seeing the test results, real time, and what we were seeing was very encouraging.
The infusion (mAb) can cause heart palpitations. We will never know for sure if that is what triggered the anxiety, but John really suffered with it.
The following afternoon, we got an even bigger shock. John’s sister-in-love, Jeanne, had found his brother, Jerry, on the floor in severe pain when she returned from the store. Jerry was being taken to the hospital!!!!
News was slow to come in.
We learned that Jerry had suffered an abdominal aortic aneurysm.
Jerry was going in for a 6-hour surgery!!!
We later found out that most people would not have lived to get into surgery, much less survived the procedure. The next 72 hours would tell the story.
We were grateful Jerry had been able to speak with Jeanne, their daughter, Lisa, and Lisa’s husband, Terry. He assured them he was not afraid. Jerry told them if he did not make it he would wake up and see their son Scott, (who passed 14 years ago). If he made it, he would wake up and see them. “Either way, I will be happy,” what a gift his words were to them.
The Covid-related anxiety already wrenching within his body coupled with the immense shock and grief and uncertainty about his brother, was a perfect storm….John was inconsolable during this time.
The next day when we had a telehealth follow-up from the ER visit, the doctor suggested a short-term use of Valium to help John get some rest and begin to recover. That was such a blessing….
As my stress level went up through this, I also had set-back after set-back. My temperature would spike. My breathing was short. I was weak. Neither of us were resting, and both of us were worried about ourselves, about Jerry, and also wondering, “Will we be able to get to Tennessee for Courtney’s wedding?” I am scheduled to officiate that wedding on Saturday!
But gifts come with every adversity.
On Sunday morning, while John was debilitated with the anxiety, he would cry and tell me over-and-over how sorry he was that he had never understood what I had to live with. He said he understood now why I was so stringent on mask-wearing and social-distancing. He can now clearly see why I did not want to get or give Covid.
As Larry sat at ER with John, I worried about both of them. And Linda…. and anyone else should Larry get exposure from John or from someone else at the ER.
Worry has been a life-long companion.
I had a long conversation with a friend this morning. She has hated watching me go through this. She admitted to me that she has been mad at my daughter and granddaughter, holding them responsible for my getting Covid and suffering. I reminded her that resentment is like eating rat poison expecting the rat to die.
Maybe it would be smart for every home to have a home antigen test on hand. Maybe it would be kind to recognize that each person I am with unmasked is being exposed to every person I have been with unmasked, and every person each of those persons have been with unmasked.
We are going to Tennessee for our granddaughter’s wedding. Do I wish they would require masks? Yes. Am I concerned about those attending who are not vaccinated? Yes.
“I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo.
“So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”
~ J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
On Sunday, I shared with a small congregation. John and myself, plus 11 others. We were not masked. Sitting in a circle for an hour.
Was that smart? Was it kind?
I wonder about that.
You see, I was born into anxiety. I experienced womb trauma when my mom simultaneously discovered she was pregnant with me and had syphilis. My mom’s emotions of shame, anger, humiliation and concern about the treatment affecting me were my emotional blueprint for life. Diagnosed with and hospitalization for polio when I was five-years-old, I was placed in isolation, unable to even have my mom touch me. She came and stood on the other side of the glass. Tears streaming down my face, spindly little legs, scrawny little arms. I had never been away from my mom even one day of my life prior to that. It was very traumatic….
I know how trauma leads to amygdala hijacking. Fortunately, I have found ways to mitigate a compromised central nervous system. That, essentially, has become my life’s work.
All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.
By Debra Basham, on September 3, 2021 John will receive Monoclonal Antibody Therapy today.
Stacey recovered sufficiently to drive 2 and 1/2 hours from Smyrna to Cleveland, Tennessee, to be a support for our granddaughter, Courtney, after she and our great-grandson, Jackson, also tested positive for Covid.
Four-generations navigating Covid…. not a claim-to-fame I would have chosen.
At this time the symptoms are less difficult than the energy-leeching vigilance if something is taking a turn for the worse. At day 8-9…. not yet able to go without Tylenol. Overall, I feel less “well” the past two days than I had the previous. That wakens the Nervous Nelly within. Counter-productive to recovery. Perhaps, though, I do feel a smidgen less “unwell” today than yesterday.
John and I were able to do a very tentative yoga session here in the great room yesterday.
And later in the afternoon we walked out back to discover dozens of Monarchs flitting in the field. It is nothing short of a miracle that many of them will make it to Mexico.
Much to be grateful for….
By Debra Basham, on August 30, 2021 
Jesus came to teach many things, but forgiveness is chief among them.
And yet with compassion there is nothing left to forgive.
Forgiveness is only needed when there is something held against another, some kind of blame.
When you see deeply into another, that judgment falls away and there is nothing left to forgive.
~ Aaron
John and I are back from taking our PCR (polymerase chain reaction) test checking for Covid. The results should be back in about 20 hours, but the roller-coaster of symptoms leave very little doubt.
On Wednesday, as we were traveling back from a fantastic visit with Stacey and her family in Tennessee, she sent word that she had a headache and was suspicious. We had plans for dinner with friends, Linda and Larry, so she would test before that. She had a positive home antigen test.
John and I went into self-quarantine, and in about 24 hours, I began to have symptoms. John was about a day behind me.
Deepest gratitude for EVERYTHING Linda and Larry have been doing to support our recovery, often anticipating our needs before or while we were not even able to articulate them.
I bow down to each and EVERYONE who prayed, sent distant healing, held energy for our recovery. And kudos to my Dharma Sister, Doctor friend, and her endless text support. I told her I need to put her on retainer….
After 12 hours of violent vomiting, during which I was unable to tolerate even water — and an UNRELENTING excruciating headache — a welcome whiff of relief came. I have never tasted anything more wonderful than the first sips of 7-Up that stayed down. I am still running a low-grade temperature, with mostly respiratory stuff now, like a bad summer cold. John reports feeling weak, tired, and we both have a very diminished appetite. And a diminished sense of smell.
But today I put on my apron and made breakfast sausage for John. And I did a load of laundry.
Such a tender heart for our daughter Stacey.
She has had such a difficult time with our hyper vigilance, and then for our exposure and contracting Covid to be a result of our visit with her. The compassion has spawned MANY tears as she and I FaceTime during our mutual quarantine, checking up on one another.
This morning I wrote in my journal: “This isn’t so bad if not for the need to be constantly vigilant that things may have taken a turn for the worse. I finally feel the need to write about all of this.”
I assured Stacey I take full responsibility for having put myself at risk. Her, “I am so sorry…” led us both to the profound compassion Jesus taught that there is nothing left to forgive.
This is the odd part.
When we went to grandson, Brad’s, band concert, John and I stayed double masked. His band rocked the house, and we wore our Apache Jericho shirts proudly!
Later that evening, it was such joy to watch our granddaughter, Courtney, and her Bride’s Tribe head out for an evening of country line dancing.
It never entered my mind to consider lateral risk.
I am sooooooooo grateful to Stacey for being vigilant and protecting Linda and Larry (and any others) from exposure through John and me.
We were treated with such kindness today by the young woman who took our nasal swab. We went in together, sat in the same wide chair, and she called it a strange kind of date. She was so gentle with me, much more than I had been with myself when I administered the home antigen test.
Compassion wells up in my heart and makes my eyes leak.
Words cannot begin to express how thankful I am that Stacey had chosen to get the Johnson & Johnson vaccine for me while she was here in Michigan the first week of August. In fact, she received that shot 3 weeks to-the-day of her testing positive!
As we are all still recovering, we are recognizing so many gifts in this, and that is likely to continue for some time.
In addition to donating my “Covid-Created” long hair to Wigs For Kids at some point, Stacey mentioned donating convalescent plasma.
Sounds like a very good way of making lemonade out of lemons….
By Debra Basham, on August 19, 2021 
From my journal:
Dear Holy Spirit:
I wrote to Barbara Brodsky confessing that I was not feeling drawn to the Deep Spring Center for Meditation fall program and expressing some confusion and concern. Aaron incorporated to clarify, and I listened to the audio last evening. This morning, I read the transcript Barbara sent to all of the Dharma Path students.
Immediately after reading that, I opened Aaron’s Thought for Today:
I had many teachers, including Jeshua. Each one served a purpose, but each one was temporary, even the greatest teachers simply pass through to remind you of something of which you need reminding, something you already know but had forgotten. When you have awakened to that, that teacher passes, and then the next teacher will come.
Then I logged onto Facebook and see a post by Pamela Johnson on her page: Supernatural Love and Life After Death. She writes: “It breaks my heart to see so many people, literally thousands upon thousands (more like millions according to Alan) grieving the loss of a loved one when I know they are literally standing right there next to them….”
I know my frequency is with this message!
Then I open the Daily Word from Unity:
Free!
I am free to be the best me I can be… an exciting future awaits me, and I boldly take my place in it. I am ready to live my life to the fullest.
You will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.
~ John 8:32
I don’t get a commission from Facebook, and I am not in denial of the downside to this platform, but people can figure out how to access the best without the rest. One friend named a page after her dog and that allowed her to log on and read/see posts about her grandchildren.
Pamela and Alan Johnson will have a book out next spring, but I wish every one who wants to be free NOW could see all of the post that I read this morning. I took these screen shots. You might have to save the photo and enlarge it to be able to read it, or just soak in the truth.
You will know the truth, and the truth will make you Free!
By Debra Basham, on August 17, 2021 Will Rogers says if you find yourself in a hole, stop digging. That is very valuable to remember!
The twinges in my low back started on Sunday, in anticipation of going to Joel’s overnight to take Zeus, Joel’s male cat, to the vet for de-matting of his fur (under sedation).
Zeus with his severely matted fur.
Zeus needed to have nothing to eat after midnight, and no water after 6:00 am, and he needed to be at the vet office about 7:45 am. The overnight made the most sense, but I could feel the tension building. By the time I left for Kalamazoo, my low back was so ouchy, I was not sure that I would be able to carry my laptop into the house.
As it turned out, I may as well not have brought it because when I got into the bedroom in the lower level, I realized I had no Wifi available. At 8:15 pm I crawled in to bed without any of my usual distractions: no music, no email, no videos, no podcasts. Just an aggressively affectionate McGee who was letting me know August 2021 is a long time from November 2019, the last time I had shared the downstairs overnight with her.
It was more challenging than I had imagined to get an 18-pound-formerly-feral-and-terrified cat into the “Pet Taxi.” I began barking orders like a drill sergeant. Fortunately, Joel had been in the army, and he was able to assist. I could not have done it without him….
The entire drive was punctuated with mournful meowing. It sounded just like Zeus was saying, “OUT…. OUT…. O-U-T….”
Admittedly, Zeus was not alone in his stressful emotions; I also cried during his check-in process.
Just before 2:00 pm, I spoke with Dr. Christine Williamson. She is amazing. She said Zeus did great, and she commented on what a wonderful guy he is. She did not do a full lion-cut, but was able to trim out all of the severe matting and leave his fur intact on the rest of his body.
Here is Zeus with his new hairdo.
While there, they did routine blood work, and everything looks good. His glucose level was high, but that could have been from stress. Probably a good thing they did not check my glucose level….
A shout out to Dr. Williamson and everyone at Mattawan Animal Hospital.
Joel went with me to pick Zeus up, and although Zeus was still meowing, on the drive home I swear he was saying, “Home…. Home…. H-O-M-E….”
As anticipated, it was much easier to get him out of the pet carrier! And his beautiful fur will fill back in.
Here is Zeus before his fur was matted.
That brings me back to Will Rogers.
Anticipatory stress is much worse than the experience….
By Debra Basham, on August 12, 2021 If the definition of “dogma” is a principle or set of principles laid down by an authority as incontrovertibly true then I wonder what we call the state of not seeing anything as incontrovertibly true? Perhaps that is the disappearance of dogma….
I have been listening to Kelvin Chin, who was a test subject in the first medical studies on meditation in the U.S.— conducted by Boston cardiologist Herbert Benson, MD in 1971 (published in Scientific American, 1972). One of his teachings is about what happens when we die. What he teaches produces an effect on me. Until recently I had never heard of Kelvin. Now, I feel compelled pay attention to what he is saying.
When our daughter, Stacey, was visiting us here in Michigan we watched Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby. Very adolescent, mildly offensive, the NASCAR superstar Ricky Bobby (Will Ferrell) must pull himself out of the depths of despair and restore his honor on the racetrack. We had heard a lot of the lines from the movie, but now we have heard Ricky Bobby praying to 8 pound baby Jesus.
The time with Stacey was a lot of fun. She had a Michigan perfect weather-week. We rode bikes. We walked downtown at sunset. We ate. They drank. We laughed. We cried. The week was also a lot of work. Soul work.
As Stacey and I were shoulder-to-shoulder for hours assembling two 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzles, not all of our talk about Jesus was as laughable as Ricky Bobby’s 8 pound Baby Jesus. Both Stacey and her mom are obviously experiencing a spiritual crisis of sorts. Growing pains… As Stacey implored me to not take her faith away from her, I spoke the gospel truth, “I don’t want you to give up your faith. I would hope you will go MORE deeply into your faith, beyond the surface level where some are inside the circle and some are outside, to where your faith is an act of inclusion not exclusionary.”
We discussed how mystics of different traditions describe a common “reality” that seems to be summed up as the mystic and all of reality are One. The purpose of our individual spiritual growth is to achieve that oneness in our everyday experience, to transcend limited identity and re-identify with the all that is.
“Can you help me understand how a person who has never taken a flu shot, who teaches that germs don’t cause illness, that our own immune system is designed to keep us healthy came to the conclusion it is best to take the vaccine?” she queried.
“You have to see my world view to understand that,” I responded. “I don’t experience myself as separate from anything. I don’t buy bottled waters because I see the miles of toxic waste poisoning the ocean. I saw the face of my friend, who is a doctor (she and her husband are both doctors) having to decide who gets treated and who does not. I felt the pain of family not being able to be with their loved one who are dying. For me, my heart was so filled with this collective pain, I could not even experience a “personal” point of view. I don’t want to get the virus, I don’t want to give the virus. I want to alleviate as much suffering as I can. Any small personal inconvenience or possible risk was nothing compared to what I experienced as the impact on the whole.”
I went on to share that I had the benefit of personally knowing an epidemiologist who was intimately involved in all of this. He isolated. He masked. He and his wife got the vaccine as soon as possible. I had the experience of knowing a man whose son and daughter-in-law were living abroad working with an international team of scientists to develop a vaccine (knowing this sort of pandemic was inevitable). I had the benefit of the experience — if you would call it that — of losing a good friend and ministry colleague to Covid. She was in the hospital for pancreatitis in March when we went into lock-down. I heard her voice. I felt her fear. I know of the helplessness of her daughter, her grandson, and her husband as they were unable to be with her.
My experience meant I could not make a choice to knowingly risk that suffering for another.
You cannot un-know an experience. All of my experience shaped my choice.
A day or so later, as she was getting ready for bed, Stacey asked me to give her again the Reader’s Digest version of how I arrived at my conclusion. I could feel her desire to go beyond the understanding of her own heart to the ability to articulate that world view to another.
We talked about moving beyond our own effort and inviting nonphysical support in everything we do.
We shared how vulnerable it can feel as you let go of beliefs that have supported us in the past.
I told her if someone had been able to have this kind of conversation with me I may not have had to step outside of the Christianity I loved to continue to develop spiritually.
Kelvin references the different types of near death experiences of individuals quite simply: “Everybody interprets it through their own belief system, their own filters.”
My own near death experience occurred August 12, 1962. 59 years later, to-the-day, it seems I am still processing that all now.
Kelvin says after we let go of our physical bodies we recognize not just loved ones from this life who have already physically died, but also identifiable energy beings (old friends) from previous lives. Many previous lives…. and many old friends….
While out riding my bike I noticed how little “belief” I have access to at this stage of my experience. “I don’t know” could be an appropriate mantra. Maybe I would add, “And it does not matter,” but, of course, that might be a belief!
Stacey decided she would welcome help from a “Santa” Jesus.
I sent her this image to remind us both of the gifts of our disappearing dogma.
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