By Debra Basham, on May 23, 2016 
Mark Twain’s words certainly are fitting for the 2016 Stewart’s Creek High School commencement program, at least for my granddaughter. Courtney, my youngest grandchild (and only granddaughter) decided near the end of school last year she did not enjoy high school and was going to do whatever it took to be able to skip her junior year and graduate an entire year early.
She enrolled in an online class to see if she liked that method of learning. She did not. So she went to school five days a week—all summer long. She made it.
This past week was a whirlwind for her as she was busy taking exams, going to graduation rehearsal, attending “praise band” practice, running errands, and hanging out with friends. She was even late for her own party because her boss forgot to give her off. She was a little late, but she made it.
That is the most important thing, isn’t it… She made it.
Courtney was ready to enter the world about a month before her actual birth date, but the new house was not ready. Her mom said to her (in the womb), “Momma needs you to give me a few more weeks so I can get your room ready for you.” She made it.
Courtney was about nine years old when her mom was divorced. Every week she moved back and forth, essentially living out of a suitcase. It was not easy, but she waited until she could drive to live with her mom full-time. She made it.
On more than one occasion, at school Courtney experienced the most painful kind of challenge: immaturity, unkindness, disrespect, and outright cruelty. She made it.
On graduation day, she sang with the praise band and church including a solo. We were all packed like sardines into that pew. Most of us (including Courtney!) had more than one tear as she sang Laura Story’s song, Blessings:
We pray for blessings, we pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
And all the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love is way too much to give us lesser things
‘Cause what if your blessings come through rain drops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You’re near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise
We pray for wisdom, Your voice to hear
We cry in anger when we cannot feel You near
We doubt your goodness, we doubt your love
As if every promise from Your word is not enough
And all the while, You hear each desperate plea
And long that we’d have faith to believe
‘Cause what if your blessings come through rain drops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You’re near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise
When friends betray us
When darkness seems to win
We know that pain reminds this heart
That this is not,
This is not our home
It’s not our home
‘Cause what if your blessings come through rain drops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You’re near
What if my greatest disappointments or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy
What if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are your mercies in disguise
Courtney knows more than many seventeen-year-olds about blessings that come through rain drops, healing through tears, sleepless nights, and mercies in disguise…
It is a blessing that we can all look back and say to her, “YOU MADE IT.”
So very proud of you, Courtney. Gampie and I love you to the moon and back!
By Debra Basham, on May 10, 2016
“During times of crisis, like today, we can evolve within our generation.”
~ Alberto Villoldo, Ph.D.
As I write this I am listening to Medical anthropologist Alberto Villoldo, Ph.D., share Ancient Ways to Ultimate Wellness, part of the Hay House World Summit 2016. It is very significant to me right now given I have been in a significant healing crisis for about ten days now.
Villoldo is talking about his own healing journey, sharing how you can turn on the healing energy within your body and totally build a new body. We certainly are willing to do that, aren’t we….
My current healing journey was kick-started by my participating in Listen to Your Mother (See Healing Salve of Storytelling – Listen to Your Mother) as I told the story of my mother’s being diagnosed with syphilis at the same time she discovered she was pregnant for me. I will let you know when “Loved and Wanted” is available on YouTube.
This crisis is bringing me back to my roots: energy medicine and the healing of ritual….
Hearing Villoldo talks about the importance of healing our intestinal flora to balance the emotions before doing ritual to release them from the brain. Emotions are just programmed responses from the past.The old brain is the ritual brain.You may want to check out One Spirit Medicine. He suggests breathing painful emotions into toothpicks, then burning the toothpick, leaving us with feelings that move easily through our energy field.
Today I found this journal entry from March 19, 2015. It is from Gratefulness.org:
“If I had my life to live over again, I would ask that not a thing be changed, but that my eyes be opened wider.” ~ Jules Renard
I plan to share details about my own healing journey in the June Beyond Mastery newsletter. You can sign up now to receive the newsletter automatically, if you aren’t already.
Meanwhile, here is a closing quotation from today’s Angelic Messenger Card # 36 Fulfillment:
When the rational parts of your mind become too dominant, your entire focus stays trained on your own needs and accomplishments. You find every activity in your life becoming stressful, competitive, and unfulfilling. This is because you believe that you are responsible for, or being required to change everything that you come in contact with to fit your own needs and requirements. Try engaging in a conversation without judging what is said, only enjoying what takes place. See how long you can keep your attention on anything other than your own reactions and responses. Lasting fulfillment comes from accepting other living things and enjoying their offerings without the need to change or alter them. [Meredith L. Young-Sowers]
By Debra Basham, on April 29, 2016
The four universal healing salves.
In many shamanic societies, if you came to a shaman or medicine person complaining of being disheartened,
dispirited, or depressed, they would ask one of four questions.
When did you stop dancing?
When did you stop singing?
When did you stop being enchanted by stories?
When did you stop finding comfort in the sweet territory of silence?
Where we have stopped dancing, singing, being enchanted by stories, or finding comfort in silence is where we have experienced the loss of soul.
Dancing, singing, storytelling, and silence are the four universal healing salves.
~ The Four-Fold Way: Walking the Paths of the Warrior, Healer, Teacher and Visionary by Angeles Arrien
Today is a day that will go down in history. At 7:00 pm, the cast of 2016 Listen to Your Mother Southwest Michigan will take to the stage. LTYM is an amazing event, conjured up in the creative genius of Ann Imig, a Stay-At-Home Humorist.
(from the website) Listen to Your Mother is features live readings by local writers on the beauty, the beast, and the barely-rested of motherhood, in staged community shows celebrating Mother’s Day. All shows are recorded and shared on our LTYMShow YouTube channel, boasting a catalog of nearly 1500 diverse stories of motherhood (daughter/son/father/Grandparent, etc).
In 2016, LTYM is happening in 41 cities in North America! Please go to the website to find nearest show, and if one is not close enough, get a plan and bring it to your community next year! Why? Because LTYM changes lives…
These are the 12 absolutely amazing women and one man who make up the Southwest Michigan 2016 cast.
Our stories may well make you cry, cause you to belly laugh, and change your heart forever. Why? Because the sacred art of storytelling is healing…
I found this amazing line in a blog about ancient theater, and I could not have said it better: “To the ancient Greeks, the theatre was a divine place of transformation. It was a place of ritual, of entertainment, and of medicine, for it had the power to bring about an emotional catharsis of joy, sorrow, rage, and awe.”
You will be able to see all of the stories from each of the venues on YouTube later this year. You might enjoy a sneak preview of some of what happens inside cast members, as well as behind the scenes.
I had not known how affected I would be. You might not know you would cry when hearing of a child’s having had 20 (this is not a typo) foster mothers before coming of age. You might be surprised how hearing about the lives of perfect strangers touches you so deeply.
I wrestled with disappointment when many I love were unable to be here for the live show.
I faced the inner demon of the “Imposter” comparing my story to others and fearing mine fell short.
Just when I assumed I had no SHOW TIME nerves, my quivering legs gave me away.
A friend stopped to pick up tickets a bit ago. She asked what the goal of the show is. Obviously, giving a voice to writers is part of it. And bringing together a community. But something bigger takes place as we remember our shared humanity.
Something about LTYM speaks to a hungry space within each of us that is only open for meaning. Telling our stories is one of the four healing salves. Thankfully, Listen to Your Mother offers our world again the sacred art of storytelling so rich in our roots.
By Debra Basham, on April 18, 2016 I brought my 2015 Blessing Jar with me today, and poured its contents out on the floor at my feet. I sit in the grape-vine rocking chair looking out at the ancient oak tree as I read a few: grateful for a working furnace and a comfortable home; grateful for a good nights sleep; grateful for enjoying watching a favorite TV show.
I meditate for a while before slipping comfortably into napping, still sitting in my rocker. I sip a cup of tea upon waking and then decide to go out and enjoy the beautiful spring day.
Walking out to the labyrinth, I recall having been told in 1988 I had osteoarthritis and needed a hip replacement. Fortunately, they did not do that surgery because I was deemed too young….
I feel so fortunate I am able to walk.
Aware that I’ve been coming to Still Waters for over 20 years, I feel profound gratitude to and for Delcy and Tom Kuhlman for creating and maintaining this space.
Walking the labyrinth, I appreciate just being where I am, putting my feet on the earth in front of me.
I momentarily ponder the person I was those many years ago when I first came here before settling back in to being present on the path.
Loving the beyond-their-peak-but-still-fragrant daffodils, I think of a woman I introduced to Still Waters who had come and helped plant some of these many bulbs. I wish her blessings on her path.
For just an instant, I feel nostalgia about not keeping a paper-and-pen journal at this time in my life.
I hear hawk in the woods nearby. Crow caws. Butterfly and bee are my companions among the blooms in their phases of letting go. Below the hill, by the lake, Mr. and Mrs. Canadian Goose seem to be planning a family.
I bend to pick up a small branch in the middle of my path. It is perfectly the shape of a dowsing rod.
I enjoy that there are no choices I must make of which way to go here in the labyrinth. Day-to-day life is filled with many crossroads, and we must choose.
A favorite poem, The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost, comes to mind:
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
By Debra Basham, on April 9, 2016
We were traveling on Interstate 75, driving from Florida, through Atlanta, on our way to Tennessee to surprise our grandson, Brad Zelenak. Brad was going to be performing his original musical compositions on the Rock Bottom Brewery Rooftop, 111 Broadway, downtown Nashville at 7:00 pm.
We were in the HOV lanes all the way through Atlanta, and we were making great time. We were going to make it.
Although we have made that trip dozens of times, we somehow accidentally ended up on Interstate 85.
Darn!
Traffic slowed to a crawl… A pungent odor waffled into the car. We realized it was our car. A look revealed a redish fluid all over everything under the hood. The temperature gage did not register high and the engine did not seem hot, so we merged back into traffic heading onto the 285 bypass, now going w-a-y east of the city.
It was difficult not to kick ourselves for the navigational error as we watched the clock. Time was crucial if we were going to make it to hear Brad. Just before 285 was to merge back into I-75 North, we experienced another traffic slowdown. This time, steam spewed out from under our hood!
We no choice: we had to see what was going on. We took the next exit with heavy hearts.
The road we were on came to a T and we went left. On the left, we saw a body shop, and pulled in. “I have some kind of liquid spewing out under the hood. Can somebody take a look and tell me what is going on?” my husband asked.
“We don’t do any mechanical work at all, but right next door is the best mechanic in Georgia.”
He motioned to the adjacent building, and was talking about Robert, at Canton Road Muffler & Automotive Center in Marietta, Georgia.
I choked back tears as my husband told Robert we were trying to get to Nashville to hear our grandson perform.
“If I order this part from Chrysler, it will not be delivered until tomorrow. I have made this part before. I can get you back on the road. You’ll make it to hear him….”
Robert said he sings, too, and that he would be performing in his church on Sunday.
I spoke aloud the gospel truth: “We thought we had gotten lost, but we know now we had help finding you!”
We were being guided even while thinking we had made a wrong turn and were lost. Brings to mind everything that is going on in the world, doesn’t it…
We walked into the room just as Brad was ready to sing. Love you, Brad Zelenak!
By Debra Basham, on March 25, 2016
Over a cup of coffee with a new writer colleague/friend, as the conversation got rather deep, she said, “We don’t know that much about the brain and about making lasting changes.”
“Bull $&@#!” I blurted out.
“Don’t hold back,” she went on.
“NLP was developed in the 1970’s,” I continued. “We do know how we run our brains. That is what Subtle Communication Systems is all about. It is vital for well-being. What we don’t yet know is how to get the mainstream to recognize and utilize the resources.”
We nicknamed our business SCS Matters, because it does!
I did not know I still had so much energy around all of this. I guess it is understandable, given the decades I have been involved in holistic education. I remember someone asking Dean Ornish in 2007 how he thought we were doing with the move to integration. His response was he was amazed at how far we had come and appalled at how long it was taking.
Why would I say the body of work we call Subtle Communication Systems is vital for well-being? Because it is: simply put, you need to know how your internal processes affect your energy and how your energy affects your health.
You cannot feel fear without having a specific way you are thinking about the trigger.
Every thought, feeling, belief, and attitude has a structure to it. Changing the structure allows you to have a different experience.
My work has been called satanic, dangerous, and fraudulent.
I am reminded that all innovation meets with three distinct phases: first, it is ridiculed; then it is resisted; and then it is accepted as the norm.
As Dean Ornish said, we are making progress.
Halleluiah!
By Debra Basham, on March 18, 2016 (An open letter to my husband, John Basham, on the occasion of our Golden Wedding Anniversary on Saturday, March 19, 2016.)
![]() |
| Mr. and Mrs. John Basham – 1966 |
Saturday, March 19 , 1966, it was a different world when we said “I do.” Gasoline was 29 cents per gallon, and we were still in high school. We were expecting what would be our only child.
While some of our friends who were pregnant when they got married used the phrase, “had to get married” about their wedding, there was no have-to-get-married for us. We had to go to probate court. We had to challenge the judge who said our baby belonged to the courts. We had to fight the courts and the odds to still be together 5 decades later.
In many ways, the 3 of us grew up together. You and I certainly never felt like we missed out on anything we wanted. We had it all.
![]() |
| 1991 – 25th Anniversary: Renewal of Vows |
I am glad we had a big event for our 25th as our 50th will be about as simple as our wedding itself. Just the four of us in the church that night. The sanctuary dark, with only the light in the chancel on. We entered the side door—you, me, your brother Jim, and sister-in-law Karen.
We still have the proofs of our wedding photos taken at the photographer’s home on our way to Berrien Springs for me to meet your grandparents.
After I was approved by all there, we drove back into Benton Harbor to buy Henny Penny chicken from Henry’s (for those who know Benton Harbor!). We drove to Eau Claire and ate our wedding dinner at the kitchen table in the home of Karen’s mom, Mable, where she and Jim and their son, Kurt, lived.
Our wedding night was spent in my bed, in my parents’ home at Spinks Corners, with my mom and dad in the next room! Not much privacy for a shy guy and his hormone-heavy bride, but we survived that and so much more, didn’t we….
All those who have been buried while we have been married….
So much change in the world and in us….
What is most important today is the truth that has never waivered: I would do it all over again. I would say, “I do.”
I love that we don’t have to like the same things; do what the other does; or even agree.
I love the freedom to be me that you so freely give, and I treasure how much our daughter and our grandchildren love you. We all did very well choosing you, and we all love you very much. My dad is glad he missed the night he shot at you because you came to the house in the middle of the night (for the record, it was 8:30 pm).
Since on this sacred occasion, we are celebrating without the benefit of formal ceremony, I will borrow a slightly edited version of a wonderful prayer for the wedding of Ann Kidd and Scott Taylor, from the book Traveling with Pomegranates: A Mother-Daughter Story, by Sue Monk Kidd and Ann Kidd Taylor:
Eternal Spirit, Mother and Father who art in earth and heaven:
We acknowledge your presence on this holy occasion,
Like the oak branch that reaches into heaven,
And the roots that travel into the earth,
You are above us and below us, and everywhere around us.
May we know You in the beauty of the green earth,
In the music of the flowing river, and
In the hearts that rejoice together at the 50th wedding anniversary of Debra and John Basham. Amen.
By Debra Basham, on March 15, 2016
I have a secret—something I am very excited about, but cannot yet share.
What I am aware of is how that excitement and feels in my body. My breath is a little quick, and high in my chest….
As soon as I can, I will share the details of my wonderful news.
In the meantime, I can share that today we had an amazing kayak trip today: one dolphin sighting, and many great encounters with fish, birds, sun, and sky.
Kathy Boevink says on any journey, we must find out where we are before we can plan the first step. True.
We looked at the map last night, and Cindy studied the mangrove paths on the GPS before we headed out.
Fortunately, it was a calm day, and we got to see some open waters!
It was not only a calm day on the water. It was also a calm day in my mind. I was present in my kayak; I was breathing. We know how fortunate we are to have this opportunity. We cooperated and we shared and we enjoyed.
By Debra Basham, on March 7, 2016
Some people will not be able to relate to the concept of feeling homesickness, but it is a feeling that has been with me since childhood. I would go to spend the night with a friend, have a wonderful time all day, and then at bedtime get overwhelmed by wanting to be home. More than once, the mother of a friend had to take me into her arms or into her bed to comfort me.
Homesickness is a feeling akin to that of not being wanted or safe, but it has a more subtle tug on the heart.
I can feel homesick for a space, like my office at 1111 Main Street, or an experience, like a day at Still Waters Retreat Center or watching So You Think You Can Dance.
Missing the beloved pets of friends or family will send me to the ice cream parlor or the auto repair shop to pet the resident cat there.
![]() |
| Here is Zeus, one of my kitty friends…. |
Even the smell of certain foods (oatmeal cookies, curry noodles, corn bread) can cause my heart to hurt. I can feel that longing for those who have passed, one who is living but not where I currently am, and sometimes even for those I have never met.
While I understand not everyone feels such angst of missing, I am also keenly respectful that the feeling is a symptom of my not being fully present in the current moment. Darn, it is awkward to find yourself where you wish you were not, even if you are where you choose to be.
One of the best things I have learned to do when overcome by my emotions is to tap. Emotional Freedom Technique, or EFT, or simply “tapping,” has become a very welcome addition to my energy medicine toolbox.
If you are not familiar with tapping, and would like to learn more, let me know. If you already know about it, I hope you are getting the benefits of using it, too, even if you never feel homesick.
For now, I will go for a bike ride—another of my favorite ways to stay present moment….
By Debra Basham, on February 25, 2016
It has been said that time flies when you are having fun. Delighted by the plentiful waterfowl, sea shells, and sunshine, the time is flying by with many family and friends visiting and enjoying some time here on Pine Island, what I call a zoo without cages.
![]() |
| Great Egret coming to check out what we are cooking on the grill. |
A recent kayak outing provided great opportunity for healing when I discovered we were lost out in the mangroves. The GPS showed clearly where we were, but there was absolutely no visible way back to the main canal. My Michigan skin had already met its tolerance for exposure to the hot tropical sun. I was suddenly transported back to the time I was alone in Europe. I had no Euros, and I did not know where I was. I could not find the woman I had been traveling with.
![]() |
| Blue is the water ways we were on. |
Sounding much more calm than my insides felt, I said to my companion, “We are lost. I am trying not to panic, but Google Maps cannot show us how to get out.” I handed him my phone.
I knew I did not feel confident to get us out. Everything we could see looked alike. I forced myself to remember that I had survived the Europe experience. I could feel tremendous fear both present and past.
We had come through an opening in the mangroves where we had to duck down. Had the tide risen sufficiently that we would be unable to get through, or just enough we would not be able to see the opening?
While I did believe we would survive, I imagined a helicopter having to come get us after days of exposure.
How similar is all of this to the larger schema of what is happening to human beings and planet earth? Have we lost our way and are we panicking because we are afraid of what we might yet encounter?
This morning, reading the book by Matt Kahn (Whatever Arises, Love That) in which he encourages you to love whatever arises, I am drawn to this sentence: “No matter how closed off you feel or how shut down you seem to be, it is your willingness to love that reminds you how safe you’ve always been.”
I am willing to love. I suspect we all are. We did get out of the mangroves, and we got home in time for lunch! The only visible injuries I encountered were some sunburned knees.
As my knees have recovered, I am deeply appreciating the reality that if we have always been safe, we will always be safe as well.Thanks be to God. Let’s all join Matt Kahn for what he calls “A Love Revolution That Begins with You.”
![]() |
| Here is my happy face selfie, taken when we were back in the canal! |
|
|
Subscribe to Blog via Email
Join 43 other subscribers
|
Comments are closed 
You must be logged in to post a comment.