By Debra Basham, on November 27, 2015
“It is the best of times, it is the worst of times.”
This Thanksgiving I am aware of so many families finding gratitude amidst deep emotions: emotions related to loved ones having passed on since last year at this time. For some of us, the transition has been quite recent.
Just yesterday, our beloved Aunt Marge joined all those we love whom are now in spirit. I am remembering so many fun times with her over the years. These photos are of Marge, and her husband, Al, over the span of their years together.
All emotions are said to come from past similar events. My heart has certainly been aware of that as one of our new grand kitties we just met this week has been under the weather. Thor, and Butter (he was named Buttercup when assumed to be a girl) were orphaned when their mom died a couple weeks after they were born. Bottle fed, these sweet fur babies certainly enjoy being with humans.
Here they are with my husband on our arrival to their house on Tuesday. Thor is on his back.
Not wanting to cause alarm, but concerned that Thor’s eye was red and had some discharge, Wednesday evening we called the vet. The office was closed, but Thanksgivingmorning Thor was seen at the 24-hour emergency vet service.
Almost forty-five years ago, we lost a young ginger-colored kitten just a few weeks after she joined our family. It was not immediately clear to me if the concern I felt for Thor was warranted as memories of our previous loss came flooding back in spades.
Those “past similars” related to our emotions are not just limited to kittens.
I am thankful for the competent care Thor received this morning by compassionate, skillful personal who were spending their Thanksgiving Day taking care of animals in need. I am optimistic Thor will be feeling better tomorrow. For now, I am grateful for an amazing message from Patricia Cota Robles, following the transition of her brother, Jimmy.
JIMMY’S PRESENCE
On this very special day when we are gathered together to Celebrate Jimmy’s Life, I assure you he is with us. He is flooding each of us with his Love, and he is expressing his deep Gratitude for having all of us in his life.
One of the hardest things about someone leaving as unexpectedly as Jimmy did is that we feel there are things we wanted to say to him, but now we think it is too late. The wonderful thing we are learning from people who have been through NDEs {near death experiences} is that is absolutely NOT TRUE. So let’s just take a moment and from the deepest recesses of our hearts let’s say to Jimmy anything we want to say to him on this very special day.
Please breathe in deeply and go within to the Divinity of your heart. If you feel comfortable doing so, gently close your eyes. In your mind’s eye see that beautiful big man standing before you with his wonderful smile. Now from the silence of your heart, tell him exactly what you want him to know at this time. I promise you, he will hear every single word. (Pause)
Now gently return your consciousness to the room and KNOW that communicating with Jimmy or any of your Loved Ones on the other side is just this easy. I will do what Patricia suggests. In my mind’s eye, I will imagine Ginger Kitty helping our young Thor recover. I will think of Al welcoming Marge.
I will breathe deeply and express Thanksgiving for all those on the other side who are sharing love with us here today.
By Debra Basham, on November 14, 2015
The worst terroristattack on a Western city since 9/11 unfolded in France on Friday, leaving the nation in a state of near-martial law.
This text message exchange with a dear friend:
K: Are you watching the news of Paris?
D: No, I just walked in the door from a session. What’s going on?
K: Multiple terrorist attacks on-going. City is in lock down.
D: May all beings come to the end of suffering.
K: Pray hard. I had to stop watching. Every minute more violence is reported.
D: Do you know how to do Tonglen? I just emailed directions.
From Joan Halifax’s handout on Tonglen, sent to my friend:
In order to give no fear, we must first learn to relate with our own suffering—our rage, helplessness, frustration, doubt, bitterness, and fear—instead of pushing it away. Gentle loving-kindness toward ourselves is what it takes to be present for our own suffering. We need to learn to stay with our own suffering without trying to change it or fix it. Only when we are able to be present for our own suffering are we able to be present for the suffering of others.
In January, 2012, I wrote about having done Tonglen after we witnessed my grandson crash his go-kart at over ninety miles per hour at Daytona. (See: Deep Gratitude.)
While this is not the first blog post in which I have mentioned the practice of Tonglen, it might be the most urgent. We must look from a place within that includes suffering but that is bigger than suffering. We must look from a heart that is so big that it is open to everything, including freedom from suffering.
- Begin by breathing in whatever you are feeling—fear, agitation, anger, resistance—and accepting it. On the exhalation breathe out well-being. Clear your mind by bringing awareness to what is agitating you and breathing it in, accepting it with kindness. Then, as you exhale, give yourself some spaciousness. Do this breath practice until you are calm and alert.
- When you feel settled, begin the second stage of the practice, which is establishing a rhythm of breathing. On your inbreath imagine that you are inhaling heavy, hot air. On your outbreath visualize exhaling cool, light air. Continue with this pattern—breathing in heaviness and breathing out lightness—until it is familiar to you. The heaviness is suffering; the lightness is well-being.
- Now imagine that you are breathing through all the pores of your body. On the inbreath heavy, hot air enters every pore. On the outbreath, cool light flows from every pore.
- Now visualize a metal sheath around your heart. This metal sheath is everything about you that is difficult for you to accept: your self-importance, selfishness, self-cherishing, self-pity. It is the band of fear that hardens your heart. The practice invites you to dissolve this metal sheath and open your heart to its natural nonjudgmental state of warmth, kindness, and spaciousness. You can do this by visualizing the metal sheath breaking apart when the inbreath of suffering touches it. When the heart opens, the hot, heavy air vanishes into its vast space. What arises is natural mercy. It is this quality of unarmored heart that allows you to be with suffering and at the same time to see beneath the suffering.
We must stay present with the suffering, bringing the sweet salve of breath to the unthinkable. We can imagine the terror in Paris tonight. Because we can imagine that, we can feel it, and we do not have to add our fear to the situation. By the grace of the divine, let there be peace on earth, and let it begin with me…. and you, and you, and you.
By Debra Basham, on November 6, 2015
Regular readers of this blog are not unfamiliar with my practice of going on silent meditation retreats, as I was blessed to do October 27-November 1. What a perfect timing for a much needed renewal on the heels of the transition of my mother-in-law on October 4, followed by the preparation for and execution of a family-run estate sale on October 22, 23, and 24 (See Musings from an Estate Sale).
I was the guest minister at Unity on the Lakeshore (Listen to: Celebrations of Life) in Douglas on Sunday, October 25, did laundry and packed on Monday, and departed for Selma, Indiana, on Tuesday morning.
The retreat was held at Oakwood Retreat Center, and the language on their website is as inviting as the space itself: “Whatever your practice, path or modality, Oakwood Retreat Center is a place you can call Home…. a sacred space filled with encouragement and permission to take that next step in the journey…. a unique venue where you may freely participate in creative and transformational work within a nurturing and supportive atmosphere.”
A bit more from the website: “Oakwood Community is the current manifestation of a passion to offer the world a place where loving-kindness prevails, a place where the spirit of the womb is held safe and unconditionally present.”
What would allow all human beings to live these values? Can you imagine moving in a world where every acre and every being is recognized as a sacred space filled with encouragement? Perhaps time on retreat is designed to remind us to open our eyes and ears and enjoy the beauty of this life all around us.
My pillows (brought with me from home) were clothed in cases from mom, plus the snuggly blanket I tucked myself in with each night had also been one of her favorites. The earrings I wore the last day had been mom’s as well, and on Sunday morning I shared with the group my experiences of loss and love.
Some of the instruction was related to the importance of our learning to not cling or grasp as preparation of our final letting go—the dissolution of our physical bodies and our reemergence into the stream of divine consciousness. This morning (obviously still processing the retreat) I awoke from this dream:
I’m with several people and some sort of phenomena begins to happen. A “guide” is explaining to us how whatever we fear is coming into our life! I know immediately as we get into a vehicle, one of my fears is drowning.
Sure enough, we are immediately plunged into water and the vehicle starts filling up. I know instinctively if I don’t relax completely, I will die. I am able to relax and slow my breathing. I feel the water come all the way up my body and over my head. Instantly, the water is gone, and I’m not even wet.
In the next scene, a woman friend and I go up to the attic to spend the night to face our fear. We are lying down on a futon in the middle of the room. When we turn off the light, four heavy hands clamp down my shoulders and ankles. I try to speak to say that I’m experiencing phenomenon but I have no voice! It is terrifying, but, again I am able to calm myself and the phenomenon passes.
It was after six when I looked at the clock, so I got up. As I was sitting on the toilet recalling the details of the dream, I heard the phrase, “While you are in this life, it is all phenomena!”
May everyone everywhere remember….
By Debra Basham, on October 25, 2015
It is almost incomprehensible that three weeks ago today mom was with us. She was having a rough day, but lovely moments of connection amidst the breathing challenges. Now, what had been her worldly belongings have been given new life.
The items had been displayed with care, and the lights were on when we opened the door to friends, neighbors, relatives, and some who came in as strangers and left as friends.
Tonight, we received an e-card from a friend expressing sympathy. Writing back, I mentioned that I still use the tea cozy, crock pot, and card table that had come from her mother’s estate more than a decade ago.
After Carol’s husband died, she insisted on paying fifty dollars to mail multiple pairs of her late husband’s shoes to us (here in Michigan), all the way from Arizona. Although not often anymore, when we do talk on the phone, she asks, “Is John still walking in Dan’s shoes?” The answer is yes. I now understand why that is so important to her.
Our mom’s yarn went to ladies at the hospital who knit caps for babies and blankets for elderly patients. Her unfinished quilt (with pins sticking out like a porcupine quills) was purchased by a woman who lives here in Michigan to be mailed to a sister, who would finish it. Her loop rug loom was donated to the senior center. Her baking pans went to the nursing home for the baking circle. Her pillow case went to a woman whose friend makes dresses for girls in Africa. Her fabric when to a woman who makes doll clothes. A newly-divorced dad will now put his daughter’s clothing in her dresser drawers.
“All these years I was friends with the boys, and I was never in this house….”
” I always wanted to look out from the bay window…”
“This house reminds me of my grandmother’s…”
Her clothing was donated to her church emergency closet and a local nonprofit. Her jewelry is now being worn by others. Her rings now slip on to other fingers. Her watches sit on other wrists to keep them on time.
Friends will watch her windmill turn. Grandchildren of friends will now rock in the little chairs she helped build. Her Christmas lights will be strung in homes we have never seen. Friends will be picking up her forks, and spoons, and knifes. A nephew will light her kerosene lamps when his power is out. Even the spices from her cupboards will be blended by other hands in other kitchens. Will the vanilla go into banana bread? Perhaps….
And her records—hundreds of vinyl records! The woman who will dance to them has become a friend. I now know where she lives, and I know why she came to the sale. “For years, I drove by and saw the white-haired lady. The yard was always so immaculate. At first, I would see her bent over the flower beds. She always had decorations out. The goose with outfits for each season! The past few years, I would not see her out in the yard, but she would be in the living room, looking out the bay window.”
So many sweet new memories that would have been missed if we had not handled her estate sale ourselves.
“When I read about her estate sale and that she had passed, I could have died. I had to come by and get a few trinkets to remember her…”
Her unused bedspreads, unopened sheets, and towels not yet turned into crafts now belong to someone else. All the things she treasured are now bringing others pleasure.
“When I play her records, I will think about you all…”
Her plastic shopping bags not cut into strips (three-and-one-half-inches-wide) to be made into mats for the homeless have been deposited in the collection center at the grocery store.
I am so grateful to each person who has helped us continue the celebration of her life.
Last night, I made corn bread in her cast iron tins.
Tonight, I will put her chap stick on my lips. Tomorrow, I will wear her sweatshirt. And forever we will all be changed by her having moved from this world to the next.
By Debra Basham, on October 16, 2015
Sharing with a friend about the huge task of sorting, cleaning, organizing, and preparing my mother-in-law’s home full of personal belongings following her passing from this life, his response was, “I would hope I would have sufficient warning to take care of things.”
I understand his hope, but I also think it is something I want to deal with sooner rather than later. While I might not consciously aspire to acquire, we are all products of that post-depression generation and we have w-a-y t-o-o m-u-c-h stuff.
After spending a week working so hard that I have ended up walking like my MIL did at 92, this morning our book club opened up Brené Brown’s Daring Greatly: How the Courage to be Vulnerable Transforms the Way We Live, Love, and Lead to this heading: The Source of Scarcity. “Scarcity doesn’t take hold in a culture overnight. But the feeling of scarcity does thrive in shame-prone cultures that are deeply steeped in comparison and fractured by disengagement.”
How many pairs of knee-hi hose is enough? How long should one keep a half-finished craft item one has not touched in a decade? Will one wear a dozen watches? Does one need three closets full of clothes? Please don’t judge her harshly. This is about most Americans, for sure. I know the pattern to the bean bag chair I made 35 years ago is still here in my house. I can guarantee you I would never make another. Why hold on to what is not needed?
I am hanging out this dirty laundry in hopes we can all recover from the deep insecurity that had us hanging on to things. I am not talking about tossing out the truly significant items we might consciously want to preserve. That attitude is healthy. Our habits toward acquisition are not.
Matthew 6:19-20
19“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. 20“But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal;…
Anatole France said it best, “It is good to collect things, but it is better to go on walks.”
We cannot take it with us.
As soon as my knee recovers, I am going to choose one room per month to purge. We can take a lesson from the Tiny House Nation and clear each room of all but the necessities.
We can pretend we have died and are sorting out only those things that are worthy of passing along. While at it, we can also be clearing out old attitudes, beliefs, and behaviors….
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| My sister-in-law and I rewired this little lamp for mom last May. She had just come home from the hospital with hospice care. She loved using it for a night light. It is now in my family room. |
By Debra Basham, on October 7, 2015
Was I being intuitively guided when I purchased a ten-pound-spiral-cut ham on Saturday afternoon? All I knew in consciousness was that she said she was hungry for my ham and broccoli quiche. Little did I know that ham (and the quiche) would be used to provide nourishment for my brothers- and sisters-in-law over the next few days as we said our final goodbye to the woman who has been my mother-in-law for almost fifty years.
Fried potatoes, beans and ham, southern cornbread… We have joked about my channeling my “Inner Martha” as I cooked and served and cleaned up the kitchen. (See Luke 10{38-42) Of course, I recognize how each of us offers nourishment to one another in our own unique way, and I know this was Seva Practice for me.
When she was discharged from the hospital in May of this year, her goal was to get better and ”graduate” off hospice care. If sheer will could have brought that forth, she would have succeeded. Although that was not to be, she certainly squeezed every succulent moment out of her last months of life.
While she did not dance, she was able to attend the wedding of her great grandson in May. A few weeks later, her church celebrated her 92nd birthday, and she went to lunch with four of her five sons and wives. An afternoon visit with her 96 year-old sister-in-law who lives out of state delighted them both as they put aside their walkers to stroll down memory lane.
When her first cousin and his wife celebrated their 60thwedding anniversary, she was there to enjoy the worship service and the delicious brunch.
One week later, she is free from the body that could no longer sustain life.
We had several nights of little-to-no sleep, and I went to bed exhausted last night after a long day of meeting with the pastor, having visitation at the funeral home, going out to dinner with the brothers and families, and then hungry for connections, sharing with my own beloved daughter and my three grands who came for the funeral.
Finding myself wide awake, it is now 4:00 am and I am tucked in my bathroom, sitting on the toilet seat, with my hungry fingers being satiated in their familiar home on the keyboard.
This column cannot contain the depth of our family’s gratitude for our local Hospice at Home, and I am sure there will be more writing about that. For now, I will close with the words of the late (great) Wayne Dyer:” Follow your excitement. For me it’s writing. I know that I’m fulfilling a dharma.”
RIP Eleanor Basham. Your legacy lives on….
By Debra Basham, on September 27, 2015
Character
is who you are when nobody is looking….
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| Virginia “Ginny” Grove, with son, Sean. |
The Celebration of Life ceremony for Virginia “Ginny” Grove was held on Saturday, September 26, 2015. Knowing how deeply Ginny felt about Native American spirituality, I wondered how well that might be honored in a service officiated by a Roman Catholic priest, and held in the cafeteria at the Catholic school where finished out her teaching career.
Before the service began, my sister, showed me a reading she had asked Ginny’s son to share. He said he was not emotionally able to do that. My sister understood—herself unable to hold back the emotion to read. As the service began, the paper with the treasured prayer was folded up, and placed back in her purse.
The priest really did know Ginny! That was such a relief. I loved hearing him read the sacred texts related to nature. Ginny taught science, but, more than that, as the priest said, “Ginny taught LIFE.”
Ginny was (IMHO) way too young to die, but I knew she had had a major heart attack many years ago. Following the heart attack, she experienced severe anxiety and was sometimes afraid to stay alone at night. I remember leaving our back door unlocked each night, so Ginny could let herself in at any time if she needed to. Some mornings, she would be curled up comfortably on the family room sofa when we woke up.
Her coworkers spoke of Ginny’s integrity, creativity, and passion for inspiring students. Many giggles were sprinkle throughout the room when her leaf collection requirement was mentioned! Wonderful words of praise were shared, including a note from a former student, unable to attend. It is very different to teach a class than to inspire a life. Ginny inspired. She was one of our daughter’s teachers in middle school, and Ginny was the flow into my life of several dear friends (best called soul mates).
One teacher who spoke—another passionate cat lover—had been mentored by Ginny. It almost took my breath away when she closed her sharing with the poem my sister had brought hoping it would be read! It was perfect that it was shared by another teacher, one blessed to be nurtured by Ginny. Authorship is not conclusive, but it is often referred to as Native American. It may have come from such an oral tradition, but was likely written by Mary Elizabeth Frye. Regardless of the source, it is a source of comfort for Ginny’s friends and family, and a beautiful tribute to Ginny.
Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.
In 2001, I had the privilege of officiating at Ginny’s wedding. Ginny made bouquets of feathers—Turkey, Bluejay, Crow, and she chose to say her vows on the Pier, where the Saint Joseph river was flowing freely into the waters of Lake Michigan.
Ginny chose this Sioux Prayer:
O our Father, the Sky, hear us,
And make us strong.
O our Mother the Earth, hear us,
And give us support.
O Spirit of the East,
Send us your Wisdom.
O Spirit of the South,
May we tread your path of life.
O Spirit of the West,
May we always be ready for the long journey.
O Spirit of the North,
Purify us with your cleansing winds.
Ginny’s son has created a scholarship in her name. What a thoughtful action. Recipients will be from the three schools Ginny blessed during her career as an educator. Ginny’s body has been donated to the science she loved.
Ginny has made the long journey, but Ginny’s legacy lives on. Aho.
By Debra Basham, on September 9, 2015
Sometimes awkward experiences yield valuable insights. That certainly was the case when a young woman (upset about her older brother’s attitude toward her) blurted out, “He does not deserve my kindness!”
My response may have not meant much to this young woman at the moment, but it meant the world to me. I told her simply: “YOU deserve your kindness.”
Most of us are familiar with the saying about resentment being like our eating rat poison, expecting the rat to die. Instantly, I was witness to how her hateful response to his treatment of her was toxic to her. In fact, I am quite sure at the time he was not even aware she was upset.
It reminded me of Richard Bandler’s teaching that the best way to help a poor person is to not be one.
Her brother had not shown her kindness. He reacted to something she had done with impatience—and rather than ask her respectfully to take care of things, his tone of voice was disrespectful. By returning his unkindness with more unkindness, neither was experiencing the respect both essentially would have preferred.
When might the effects of her kindness be seen? Perhaps her brother will never learn the value of treating her with kindness, or maybe it will be a long time from now before he sees the value of his treating others with greater kindness. But, this young woman could have experienced kindness instantly by following Mahatma Gandhi’s suggestion: “Be the change that you wish to see in the world.”
What might have changed with her ability to meet her brother’s unkindness with kindness? For sure, she would have changed.
By Debra Basham, on August 31, 2015
Dr. Wayne Dyer, the renowned motivational guru and author of dozens of self-help books, has died at age 75, his family announced over social media Sunday.
DrWayneDyer.com
“Wayne has left his body, passing away through the night. He always said he couldn’t wait for this next adventure to begin and had no fear of dying. Our hearts are broken, but we smile to think of how much our scurvy elephant will enjoy the other side. … We Love You Forever Dad/Wayne,” his family posted in a message on Dyer’s Facebook page.
Suffice it to say, most “seekers” have profoundly appreciated his teachings and his essence.
For those familiar with the Christian Bible, the Sermon on the Mount speaks to our experience of loss. Matthew 5:4, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.” But how will you be comforted?
A person wrote online asking advice on how to deal with grief, and someone responded with wisdom worth sharing. Please read the entire article, and take to heart the essence:
- Grief comes in waves, at first very high and very frequent
- Sometimes the best you can do is just float
- Find a memory or photograph or someone else who is floating to hang onto
- Stay alive; eventually you can breathe and function between the waves
None of us escapes physical death. We face this truth each time someone we know and love transitions back into spirit. We can be especially shocked when an icon we value greatly is no longer in our world with skin on. After the news of Dr. Dyer’s transition went out on our “Fellowship” list, several people responded. These two messages speak volumes:
He will now be working from the other side.
So glad this was shared. What a beautiful spirit to have walked this earth. I am sure the stars will shine brighter tonight….and I know he definitely brought light to my world.
Yes, Wayne Dyer brought light into our world. Although he lived in an orphanage, he did not let his past limit his future. He proved you can rise above the mundane conditions of life, spread your wings, and fly. Soaring above limiting emotions and looking at a panoramic view of life, he invited others to enjoy a transcendent existence as well.
Dr. Wayne Dyer has taken off his earth suit and is now in our midst as unlimited energy and light and love. “You are what you choose to be today, not what you have chosen to be before.” We will remember….
By Debra Basham, on August 23, 2015
Those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it.
~ Carlos Santayana
Last Sunday a friend emailed some information from an international financial analyst pointing to a severe correction in the stock market coming very soon. Everything in me wanted to call our investment manager Monday morning and tell him to get us out of the market for a while. In 2007, sharing my concerns with our previous investment manager about a similar warning resulted in my having been made to feel that my worries were unfounded. Feeling insecure, I did nothing back then, and we lost money we had worked hard to save for our retirement.
Monday morning I did nothing about the nudges I felt to make that call. In short, I ignored the gnawing feeling, then watched the market lose about ten percent in two days.
My post is not about finances, but it is about changes in perspective.
Notice what you see in this amazing pencil prayer by my dear artist friend Carol L. Myers.
As I ponder what I see, I remind myself it is not helpful to beat myself up about the stocks.
I recall the message I received from spirit following the 2008 losses. “Debra, you know your security is not dependent upon the stock market.”
This greater consciousness is consistent with Steve Siebold’s “Million Dollar Mind” process, in which he contrasts “World Class” perspective with “Middle Class” thinking:
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1. The Middle Class competes…The World Class creates
2. The Middle Class avoids risk…The World Class manages risk
3. The Middle Class lives in delusion…The World Class lives in objective reality
4. The Middle Class loves to be comfortable…The World Class is comfortable being uncomfortable
5. The Middle Class has a lottery mentality…The World Class has an abundance mentality
6. The Middle Class hungers for security…The World Class doesn’t believe security exists
7. The Middle Class sacrifices growth for safety…The World Class sacrifices safety for growth
8. The Middle Class operates from fear and scarcity…The World Class operates from love and abundance
9. The Middle Class sees themselves as victims…The World Class sees themselves as responsible
10. The Middle Class slows down…The World Class calms down
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Mark Twain may have said it best, “October: This is one of the peculiarly dangerous months to speculate in stocks. The others are July, January, September, April, November, May, March, June, December, August and February.”
I don’t know for sure what the future of the stock market holds. No one does. However, we do know for sure we can choose to cultivate World Class behaviors. We can nurture an abundance mentality, managing risk, and living in reality. We can operate from love and abundance, calm down, and see ourselves as responsible. We can even be comfortable being uncomfortable.
This certainly beats hungering for security and living in fear and scarcity.
Look again at the same pencil prayer, this time from the horizontal view. Notice the peaceful images that emerge automatically with just a slight change in perspective.
It has been my habit to let Carol’s work share my desk with me until it seems the many messages tucked within have been received. This one is about ready to move to my altar.
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