By Debra Basham, on April 3, 2015
Years ago, I opened a sermon with this illustration: Three guys have been stranded on a desert island for a very long time when one of them finds a magic lantern containing a genie. The genie grants them each one wish. The first guy wishes he was off the island and back home─and poof!, he is back home. The second guy wishes the same thing─and poof!, he is gone too. The third guy says, “I’m lonely. I wish my friends were back here with me.”
It is really important to keep our wits about us when we are making our wishes, isn’t it….
One of the things about wishing is that it can come as a result of not being present with or appreciative of what currently is. I have been very aware of that the past few weeks as we were preparing to leave Pine Island and come home to Michigan, especially given that the home we had been wintering in for the past three years would no longer be available to us next season.
As a child, feeling homesick was a very common emotion, and I can bump into that feeling even as an adult, so I made a conscious choice to do my best to stay present. I wanted to neither feel grief about letting go of a space that had been very nurturing to me, nor to long for another place that is filled with people that I love.
Wrapping my days with this intention, I organized my departure well enough to enjoy nature visits with Nancy, a friend I share both Michigan and Florida with. Nature seemed to respond to my intention in spades!
Visiting one of the nearby eagle nests, Nancy and I were treated to soaring eagle chick, not once, but twice! And the day before my departure, she and I had the most amazing dolphin sighting.
Our encounter was so prolonged, and unusual even in a setting where dolphins are common, I looked up the symbolic meaning of dolphin. Please honor the author by checking out the link for yourself, and enjoy this wonderful summary:
Christian symbolism conveys the dolphin as an aspect of Christ. Dolphins seen in Christian art are symbolic of resurrection. Some artists utilize the protective, stabilizing, compassionate demeanor of the dolphin as a message of wellbeing to the pure of heart.
Some artistic renditions speak of dolphins transporting the spirits of the faithful to Christ’s side upon leaving their physical bodies.
This dolphin meaning is mimicked in ancient Greece where legend tells us the dolphin was responsible for carrying the souls of the dead to the Islands of the Blessed.
- Playfulness
- Transcendence
- Gentleness
- Harmony
- Intelligence
- Contentment
- Friendship
- Community
- Resurrection
- Generosity
- Power
The following evening, as we had left Florida and were heading north, we walked to a small restaurant near the hotel we were staying for the night. As I walked the short block, I was having cellular memory of other times and places I had walked to dinner. It was so clear that dolphin meaning was working:
This is a key understanding because the dolphin meaning is connected with themes of duality. It has to do with the dolphin being both fish and mammal. It is both of the water, and an air breather. Ergo, dolphin symbolism talks to us about “being in two worlds at once.”
As I bid farewell to Florida and hello to Michigan via some delicious days with Stacey and Doug and Brad and Christina and Adam and Courtney in Tennessee, I say thank you to two worlds. There is great love for all!
By Debra Basham, on March 18, 2015
Maybe the most important teaching is to lighten up and relax.
It’s such a huge help in working with our crazy mixed-up minds to remember that what we’re doing is unlocking a softness that is in us and letting it spread.
We’re letting it blur the sharp corners of self-criticism and complaint.
When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chödrön
Perhaps other cultures have an easier time of it, but as Westerners, it may not come as a huge surprise to you that humans are not usually very compassionate with ourselves (or with one another). Previously, I have written and spoken about how ingrained blame and shame are to those of us who grew up hearing the story of Adam and Eve. In that story, the female archetype caused the male archetype to do something bad. In the book of Genesis, Chapter 3, Verse 12:
The Man said, “The Woman you gave me as a companion, she gave me fruit from the tree, and, yes, I ate it.”
God said to the Woman, “What is this that you’ve done?”
The freedom comes from our being able to sit with the pain of what is. I love how Gary Zukav and Linda Francis have provided a better way of relating through their Spiritual Partnership Guidelines.
Essentially we are able to become aware of our reactions, especially strong emotions, and take responsibility for our feelings, experiences, and actions. Imagine if the story we were told as a foundation for our faith journey went more like this:
The Man said, “I am sorry. We did not intend any wrong. The fruit was there and we both had some.”
God said to the Woman, “That is a good man you have there.”
Of course, we do not have to pretend we are in relationship with a good man or a good woman. We are all capable of bringing a greater consciousness to each of our relationships. We can learn to act from the healthiest part of our being, and to easily say, “Oops,” if we notice that we were not in integrity about something.
This winter I have been focused on learning more and more how individuals can overcome the biology of addiction. Tommy Rosen of Recovery 2.0 fame is someone I have come to appreciate in that area. I read about an experience he had at a facility for recovery of 13-20 year-olds. When he asked this group why they had come there, he expected to have them say they were there because of drugs and alcohol. What he heard, instead, in every case, was they were there because of anxiety and trauma.
You can download a free pdf version of the Spiritual Partnership Guidelines. You have to love what it says at the top (and bottom) of the page:
PRINT • SHARE • PLACE EVERYWHERE • EXPERIMENT WITH YOUR LIFE
And remember to enjoy yourself!
By Debra Basham, on March 8, 2015
Hank’s friend was in Michigan this winter rather than in Florida golfing with Hank. John lost his spot on Jerry’s golf league. About 1:00 pm today, John’s phone rang. Hank was calling to get the name and address of the golf course they were going to play on Tuesday. “I will call my brother and call you right back with that information.”
Jerry answered the phone, but John could barely make out what he was saying about his dog, Max. “I cannot think about golf right now. We left Max at Kathy’s so we could all go out to dinner last night. When we got back, Max had broken through a screen. We have been out looking, but he is still missing. We may not even be golfing on Tuesday.” John hung up the phone near tears himself.
“He will try to find his way home,” I said. We both knew how difficult that would be. Max had gone missing from somewhere other than his own home, and would be trying to find his way to a “seasonal” home, along the crazy-busy roads in that area at this time of year….
Never realizing how significant it would turn out to be, John and I had had the opportunity to be part of a happy ending when a lost dog named Sophie got home safely thanks to social media (See: The Tool is Neutral).
Sophie’s information had been posted on the Pine Island Prospect Facebook page, so I quickly posted Max’s photo there. Within minutes, a wonderful woman shared it on the Cape Coral Pet Lost and Found Facebook page. This was the area where Max had gone missing!
Going to that page, I was greeted by a photo of Max with this message: “Picked up this cutie last night at the corner of Skyline Drive in front of El Rio golf course. Please share so we can get him home. Thanks.”
Calling Jerry, I almost yelled into the phone, “Max is safe! I am looking at a photo of him right now! He was found last night, and the woman who found him has your number now!”
“A woman just called me!” Jerry quickly responded.
“Take the call. She has Max!” Hanging up, John and I shared tears of gratitude and awe. One hour after we learned Max was missing, Jerry and Max were reunited.
Professor of World Religions, Huston Smith, said, “Daily the world grows smaller, leaving understanding the only place where peace can find a home.” Grace is the only word to describe what happens when we follow the threads woven together to reveal how Max and Sophie and Hank and Jerry—and everyone and everything in life is connected in one grand web.
By Debra Basham, on February 26, 2015
How much more our beliefs, attitudes, and perceptions dictate our emotions, but weather can really get people down. A gray day can drag our mood down, or sunshine can lift our spirits.
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| Photo taken by my sister-in-law, Cindy Basham. |
Having spent the past few winters in sunny Southwest Florida, I marvel at how easily folks there get blessed by sunshine all winter long. Michigan winters are notoriously gray. It may be more the lack of sunshine that affects folks even more than the cold or snow.
My musings on weather and moods, and a writing prompt photo inspired three differently styled poems. Enjoy “Three Variations on Clouds Hanging Overhead” I wrote in February 2014.
Clouds hang overhead, hijacking the horizon as far as the naked eye can see. The reflection of these clouds in the still waters below creates the illusion of clouds being everywhere. How like problems, these pesky clouds. Feeling low, mental clouds seem to span the distance from past to present to future—dimming the light of possibility almost to the point of nonexistence.
Carrying sufficient moisture to dampen all but the heartiest of souls, problem clouds of troubled memories choke out the azure blue of present life. “Why did you do THAT? What makes you believe YOU are worthy of love? See, we knew you would fail.”
Toxic habits of shame slide into the human body unnoticed: slinking past adoration, forgoing appreciation, and leaving behind a massive, putrid, vapor of regret spread wider than the contrails obediently following behind jet planes carrying people hither and yon.
Father Sky opens wide to clouds. Billowy blankets of white on a sunny day, and even stormy fists of green and black and gray. Lakes smooth the way, providing a willing vessel for these clouds’ illusions to rest a while. The nature of our nature is to embrace all that is passing away and coming to be.
Coming to be free from shame. The sun will shine again.
Coming to be free from self-doubt. The clouds will not always be out.
Coming to be free from the shackles of prisons made of what ifs or buts…
Rising above all illusions, reflecting only colors. Colors born of water drawn up from the face of our beloved Mother Earth as infant particles of dust.
From dust we come; and to dust we return.
Clouds fill the sky, but need not bring tear to eye.
Someday, you will look back on all this and laugh.
Why wait?
Haiku
Clouds over Lake Champlain
Will these clouds drench us with rain?
Even while the sun shines
Let clouds fill the sky
Only once—without the why
Let them drift on by
Smile, and feel relief
Why give freely to a thief?
Illusions steal joy
And the last one:
Sitting by the lake, looking out over the placid water, I could see only clouds. The sky was filled with grey clouds tinged with white cottony edges. Looking down, looking up, glancing left and glancing right—as far as I could see: clouds.
Perusing the scene before me, it popped into my mind how much life’s problems are just like these clouds. The emotion of a current challenge can reflect onto the surface of those smooth areas of our life robbing us of creativity and inspiration and joy!
Looking only at what has or might go wrong is like seeing those clouds reflected in the water and letting the illusion convince us that the situation is hopeless or we are a failure or unworthy of well-being.
Once you take on as the vital truth of you, the nature of nature, you can watch emotions’ clouds drift across the sky knowing that they too shall pass. This is the nature of true freedom: “Only one life, ‘twill soon be past. Only what’s done for Christ will last.”
By Debra Basham, on February 13, 2015 Japanese Zen masters sometimes know when they are going to die.
Once master Hofaku called his monks together and said: “This last week my energy has been draining – no cause for worry. It is just that death is near.”
A monk asked: “You are about to die! What does it mean? We will go on living. And what does thatmean?”
“They are both the way of things,” the master replied.
“But how can I understand two such different states?”
Hofaku answered: “When it rains it pours,” and then calmly died.
She has been my friend, student, colleague, mentor, and soul mate. My heart is overflowing with the blessings of having her in my community and in my life. Today is the last day at her current work, and she is moving to another state.
How do we survive the loss? What supports adjusting to the changes? Is it possible we can experience a skillful goodbye?
I remember well meeting with a young couple after she had decided to stop all treatment and to consciously die. We created her Celebration of Life ceremony (she crossed every “T” dotted every “I”). The deeper work, however, revolved around how to consciously let go of life as they had known it, and to welcome the next chapter.
We sat in her hospital room, just the three of us. I asked them to close their eyes and to begin exploring what it was like to feel their connection without relying on their physical senses of sight and sound and touch. “Imagine you are able to slip your consciousness out of your body, float to a meeting place in the middle of the room, and enjoy being together without skin on.” They were familiar with animal spirits, having been actively involved with a Native American Shaman.
Holding that space, breathing with them, and choosing to be willing to feel my own quivering heart. How would I be handling things if I were the mom of a six-year old son letting go of my physical life? It is one thing to have all of the ideas, another to be experiencing the lessons real time. She was so brave. They both were. Even without yet knowing the rest of the story…. (See http://scs-matters.com/?s=Hawk&submit.x=0&submit.y=0)
Today, I witness other friends facing serious medical challenges that may result in early death. In my mind’s eye, I sit in a quiet room with each of them, holding that tender space of learning we are more than these physical bodies. Even now, my heart quivers again.
May we live each moment so fully we have no fear of the future nor regret of the past.
May we remember who we really are. May we each learn the art of a skillful goodbye.
By Debra Basham, on February 3, 2015
Recently, I have been blessed to share some of my writing in a variety of settings, including in my writers’ group, at an open mic event, and within an assisted living facility. I am amazed at what happens inside you as a writer through your writing (and sharing) process.
For one thing, sharing your writing feels like inviting someone into your home, and hearing someone share is being invited. Some writing feels like sitting in PJs, it can be so intimate. The emotions evoked span the emotional spectrum: happy, sad, glad, or mad.
This week, belly laughs galore from Debra Fewell sharing the revenge of the crawdads. Dan England’s words about a betrayed love still fill the air. Chris Michaels’ touched us all deeply by reading her memoir of her beloved husband’s death from pneumonia, following his decline from Alzheimer’s Disease.
It truly is an honor and a privilege to witness the insides of another human being.
Nostalgia by Debra Basham
My mother-in-law learned to drive a car later in life than anyone else I know, but following my father-in-law’s stroke, it was an absolute necessity; so learn to drive she did. It was either that or wait a couple of years for their youngest to turn sixteen.
Going from having someone take care of you to having to take care of someone is not all fun and games. It would be years later that we all went into family therapy to deal with the stress. No one expected things to go on as long as they did, and my husband and I certainly would not have predicted that in our early twenties we would have the opportunity to be raising a troubled teen. Agreeing to open our home to one child essentially closed off the door to another. Years went by, and by the time my brother-in-law moved out, we were not interested in starting over with the baby phase.
I tell our daughter she is an only because we could not improve on perfection. She knows the rest of the story, but it feels so good to have someone recognize you are perfect just the way you are.
My mom had the ability to do that for every one of her grandchildren. She would make each one’s favorite food: lasagna, fried chicken, barbeque—and all for the same meal. She would also make three pans of cinnamon rolls so everyone who preferred it could have the one from the center.
Mom worked hard. It was not until after my dad died and she moved into an apartment at the senior living complex that she had a proper bedroom closet. We sometimes forget how quickly things have changed so much. Growing up, we had a party line. Kids today would think that is something entirely different than what it was. We only answered the phone when it rang one long and one short, and if we picked up and the neighbor was still talking, we hung up just loudly enough she might get the hint, finish her call, and hang up, but not so loudly she could know we were trying to ask her to do so.
Privacy was just not the same. When I grew up, we shared bedrooms, and we shared beds. Sometimes our whole family was in one, lying in the dark listening to the radio…
It is true, we did not have much in the way of worldly wealth, but we certainly knew the importance of being generous with what we had. There was always enough to set an extra place at the table. My folks raised pigs once, but my two sisters and I named them after the people we bought the piglets from and after my dad had those pigs butchered, we refused to eat Tom and Fran!
We did not think of our lives as hard, life was just what it was. And I am not saying you know it for sure, but I have often though, looking back, I could just about understand what drove my dad to drink….
I’m so very thankful he had gone into sobriety about the time I got married at the tender young age of 16. We could probably say we had all been blessed because my dad’s grandchildren only knew him sober.
By Debra Basham, on January 26, 2015
On a walk through a nature preserve with a friend, we came upon a most unusual sighting. Not at all sure what we were seeing—one was on it back, covered by tiny ants—at first we thought perhaps both of these Giant Leopard Moths were dead. A small stick was lying nearby so I gently touched the one that was upright. It was not dead! What happened next was nothing we could have expected, and at the risk of anthropomorphism, I will simply report what we saw.
The upright moth moved nearer to the one that was on its back and covered by ants. Moving as close to the other as it could without getting on top of it, its front and hind legs on the adjacent side came up and over the upside down moth. It is difficult to tell you what we saw without calling this an embrace. My friend and I were both shocked to see the antennae of the upside down moth begin to move ever so slightly!
Before continuing on our walk, for some time, we watched in awe, quietly whispering our shared wonderings of what we were witnessing. For sure it looked (to two humans familiar with hospice care) like some sort of being present with; a giving of comfort; a vigil.
Eagles soared overhead, woodpecker drummed us a tune, tiny warblers sang sweetly, and as we came back over the wooden walkway where we had seen the moths earlier, we forgot to look for them. Going back, we were amazed to find only the small stick I had used to gently nudge the upright moth. No upright moth, no upside down moth, and no ants were visible on the walkway. Just the small stick that had been used to test the life of these creatures we had encountered.
A more thorough search led to the discovery of what we assume was the upright moth, now under the base of the handrail that ran along the walkway. The other moth and its coat-of-many-ants were nowhere to be seen….
We were both down on hands and knees watching the moth when some other nature walkers came along. Curious, they asked what we were looking at. Standing upright, drawing attention away from the moth, my friend mentioned that we had a picture, so I took out my phone and showed them this photo.
Interestingly, I read on the internet that seeing these moths is most rare because they are mostly nocturnal and have a very short lifespan. Walking away, mysteriously summoned, Brandon Bays, author of The Journey, began lecturing to us from deep within my pocket:
This is a book about freedom. Freedom to live your life as you’ve always dreamt it could be. All of us have issues feel trapped or limited by in some way—be it anger, depression, grief, anxiety, or fear. It may be as simple as thinking there must be more to life, or as overwhelming as feeling a complete failure. It may be as debilitating as addictions, or as life-threating as serious illnesses, and yet, no matter how deep the issue is, no matter how much you have struggled with it, the possibility exists for you to become absolutely free, whole, healed.
For sure, as human beings, we are capable of being absolutely free, whole, and healed. We are each capable of being real friends to ourselves and to one another. We can learn the lesson well from the Giant Leopard Moths….
By Debra Basham, on January 21, 2015
It is totally amazing what technology can do. Someone can snag bank account information when they walk beside you on the street. And as cloud computing gains popularity the risk to gigantic quantities of sensitive data is magnified. Information now travels across national borders in the blink of an eye.
At the same time, technology can mobilize, inform, support, and save precious moments and lives. That is exactly what happened when an adorable white Westie named Sophie got out of her house unnoticed early one Sunday morning.
By mid afternoon Sophie’s “mom” posted a sign at the end of their driveway.
By early evening that sign was photographed by a bicyclist with a cell phone and Sophie’s photo and her owners’ contact information was posted on a neighborhood Facebook page. Hundreds of individuals were alerted and about 48 hours later Sophie was back home safely!
Of course, not all missing pet stories have such a happy ending, but the important awareness for us all is to notice that the value of technology comes from its use, the tool itself is neutral.
Our mind, our body, our attitudes, our beliefs, even our very lives are given meaning by us, based on our actions. Celebrate Sophie’s safe return. Let’s all make the best of today!
By Debra Basham, on January 7, 2015
“Saul is quite the healer,” Sheilana quietly announced following the meditation. Sheilana Massey has been recognized as gifted since her early life within a Quaker farm family. For decades, Dr. Massey has hosted a weekly Meditation for Peace in her home on Pine Island in Southwest Florida. She had heard of Dr. Saul Shaye’s spiritual healing for years, but was herself meeting him for the first time that day.
He looked anything but extraordinary, although the Star of David amulet with a cross in the middle caught my eye right away. Nothing about his appearance hinted that he had been a contender for Mr. Louisiana, although he later shared a treasured (yellowed) version of this photo as proof of his life-long passion in body-building.
In 1973, while Dr. Shaye was working on his doctorate in chiropractic in Iowa, he attended a workshop on psychic diagnosis, intent on disproving the technique. After attending the workshop, Dr. Shaye found to his surprise that he too could read and diagnose by sensing energy fields.
When Dr. Shaye offered to provide a demonstration of his spiritual healing I quickly said I would love to be his demonstration subject. I later offered if anyone else in the group wanted to be the recipient, but none came forth so my exact words were, “I am always willing to receive healing and grace.”
While Saul went to the car to get his portable table, and bring in some copies of The Little Book of Miracles, Lois Mallinder told us she had put the booklet together over 20 years ago as a gift of gratitude after having benefited from Dr. Shaye’s spiritual healing. Since that time, she has printed and shared over 45,000 copies. You can get a free e-book from Smashwords or download the pdf version by putting Dr. Saul Shaye The Little Book of Miracles into a search engine.
You can listen to interviews online and I found this photo that substantiates his relationship with the Green Bay Packers. He told us Brett Favre has received his spiritual healings, too.
Dr. Shaye asked me if I was comfortable saying in front of the others what I would receive healing for. I assured him I was, and, when instructed to limit my list to three (even though he assure me that every healing need would be addressed), I first mentioned abdominal bloating that had been a very uncomfortable side effect of the surgery I had in 2012 to remove a 21 centimeter mass from my abdomen. Second on my list was spinal and muscular challenges since having been diagnosed and treated for polio when I was five years old. “My left knee,” was my last comment.
“Put your shoes on and lie face down, please.” Before he even touched me my left knee started twitching with energy. I am not a newbie to energy work, and I am very sensitive. I could feel energy running throughout my body as I listened to him explaining to the others what he was doing. I was aware he addressed a leg-length discrepancy related to my left knee being out of balance. Sensations of energy have continued, and there is a very welcome relief from the abdominal discomfort.
I want to shout to the mountain tops. Knowing I cannot decide what is best for another, I have shared information about Saul with several.
What makes some people open to spiritual healing while others hold bias or even fear? This especially baffles me about Christians, given that Jesus was a healer and told his followers you are healers, too. John 14:12, “Truly, truly, I say to you, he who believes in Me, the works that I do, he will do also; and greater works than these he will do; because I go to the Father.”
Was it chance that placed me at that gathering, or destiny? Say only, I am grateful….
By Debra Basham, on December 31, 2014
Days have flown by, filled with family fun and shared experiences. For Christmas, hand-made gifts were shared, bringing delight beyond belief. The gifts, included an aromatic rice bag for the microwave (the scent was created using herbal teas); a sugar scrub to make hands and feet soft as a baby’s butt, and a fantastic board game which included elements of some of our old favorites and created a level playing field for all participants!
Additionally, as part of our family time, we went to see Unbroken, a powerful film based on Laura Hillenbrand’s biography of an Olympic runner, turned war hero. A true story, the violence in this film activates a sense of shared humanity rather than separation. I was willing to go see it a second time….
The real-life hero, Louis Zamperini, died this past July, but after seeing this film, I can expect that his spirit will continue to bless our planet for all eternity. He ended up going to Tokyo as a POW, rather than to compete there in the Olympics as he had hoped. After their plane crashed several hundred miles from Oahu, Hawaii, surrounded by sharks, shot at by Japanese runners from above, and without food or water, it is nothing short of miraculous that they survived.
The details of his story I find most touching take place where the film leaves off—after this amazing man returned home from the war.
As some still argue the question of nature or nurture, none will argue the absolute inspiration that comes from this incredible human life. Plagued by night terrors of his ordeal, his wife insisted he go hear Evangelist Billy Graham speak. He never had the nightmares again.
Louie Zamperini made good on the promise he made to God during those 47 days he spent drifting in the ocean before being captured by the Japanese: “If you get me out of this alive, I will serve you for the rest of my life.”
Fortunately, most of us will never have such dire conditions in which to make such significant a choice….
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