By Debra Basham, on August 18, 2012
We are gradually coming to see that the years beyond sixty five or seventy,
the years of our second maturity,
may be evolution’s greatest gift to humanity.
Jean Houston
Reading an article by Jean Houston, “The Genius of Second Maturity,” this week birthdays have been on my mind. It is not my birthday, but many dear friends are celebrating: one turning 70, and another turning 60. I am going to a party so I got a very funny card with a young woman with BIG hair. You may remember that look.
Carl Jung is said to have reflected that his life would only have meaning in terms of centuries. Houston wrote: “One of the greatest capacities of second maturity is the capacity for spiritual development. Having known the breadth of existence, we now have the capacity for knowing the subtleties of the depths as well in ways that few could have known them before. No longer needing to compete, to be acceptable, likeable, and all those other things considered respectable in society, people are finally being uncaged in their elder years, free to release energies and capacities that the culture restrained in them when they were younger.”
This sense of no longer needing to be acceptable, likable, or respectable came to me in spades last Saturday morning as I was driving to join Betty Lue Lieber and Robert Waldon for a day workshop while they were in Kalamazoo, Michigan. This is a group that is generally very high conscious when it comes to food, and the workshop included a potluck lunch. The dish I had brought to contribute was peanut butter pie. Not exactly a health food, but delicious!
I arrived at the choice to bring the pie based on some tricky logistics of having just gotten home from a road trip to San Antonio, Texas, and having taught all day (13 fifteen-minute presentations on stress relief at Three Rivers Hospital) the day prior, and staying the night in Kalamazoo.
I am guessing the conversation I had in my head about the pie was influenced by an experiential learning with Karen Drucker while in San Antonio: Taming Your Inner Critic. It went something like this, “If no one chooses to eat the pie, I am fine with that. Another person’s choice is not a reflection on me, it is simply his or her freedom to choose.”
It was really quite wonderful to have this exchange within myself and to be totally in awe at the ease I was feeling about however things played out. I laugh even now realizing that Betty Lue opened with a talk about the need to honor that our path does not have to be anyone else’s, it just has to be genuinely ours! I was moved to share about the peanut butter pie, and that became a symbol for all of us of the ease of respecting personal choices in our lives.
On a much deeper level, though, what Houston calls second maturity, really is gift. It is about inner transformation.
From the poem, Minnie Remembers, by Donna Swanson:
I remember Hank and the babies.
How else can I remember them
but together?
For out of the fumbling, awkward
attempts of new lovers
came the babies.
And, as they grew, so did our love.
And, God, Hank didn’t seem to mind
if my
body thickened and faded
a little. He still loved it and touched it.
Every piece of that peanut butter pie was enjoyed. Sometimes as the outer fades, our inner beauty shines more brightly.Thank God for that truth!
Right after I posted this, a friend received a newsletter from James Twyman with the same theme and this handy checklist. You know you are a “Golden Indigo” if…
1. You are over the age of 60.
2. You have always felt a “stirring” within your soul to heal and bless humanity.
3. That “stirring” has increased considerably over the last five to ten years.
4. You feel a tangible connection with the Indigo Children.
5. You can’t keep silent any longer, but feel drawn to share your wisdom.
6. You refuse to sit back and simply “retire.”
7. You felt a resolute “YES” when you first read or heard about the Golden Indigos.
By Debra Basham, on August 12, 2012
“Is the Universe a friendly place?”
Albert Einstein considered this question to be the most important question a person can ask. Today the only answer I can honestly give is, “YES!”
This past Monday I was in San Antonio, Texas, teaching “Out of Fear, Into Health: Anchoring as Healing Modality.” Tuesday we drove 850 miles, arriving in Sikeston, Missouri, about 8:30 in the evening, Fortunately, our accommodations were acceptable because we had chosen a destination we had stayed at in 2011, but we were weary from our 14 hours drive, and we had not yet had dinner.
I thought I remembered having enjoyed a nice meal an easy walking distance from the hotel when we had stayed there last year, but we found out I was mistaken. Disappointment, coupled with the lack of what we considered desirable choices, developed into an awkward conversation with the folks at the front desk.
Still unsure about where we could have dinner, and both tired and hungry, while unpacking essentials for the night, we got cross with one another over where to park the vehicle, and Joel was very annoyed as he blurted out, “It’s not worth arguing over!”
Feeling responsible for both of us, I dredged up the memory of a sign I saw out on the highway, searched Google on my iPhone, confirmed directions with the folks at the front desk, and we walked the half-mile to Lambert’s Cafe, where the motto is, “We hope you come hungry, leave full, and hopefully have a laugh or two!”
If I had been thinking more clearly, I might have realized sooner I had been to a Lambert’s Cafe in Gulf Shores, Alabama, a few years ago, but by the time we were seated, it was too late. I thought Joel might cry when he ordered a beer and was told they do not serve alcohol. Add to that, they throw hot yeast rolls at you from across the room! (See http://www.throwedrolls.com/)
OK, I confess that I sent my daughter, Stacey, and my nephew, Chris (the one who took us to Lambert’s in Alabama), a quick text message letting them know we had arrived safely in Sikeston, that we were at Lambert’s Cafe, and that Joel did not have on his happy face….
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This building was right next to the motel.
I noticed the sign as we came back from Lambert’s. |
Even though we had enjoyed wonderful experiences and made great connections at the conference, the mood continued to be less than blissful the following day. We checked out, loaded up, and got on the road for another 600 miles. Less than an hour from Michigan, when we stopped to buy gas, we had another stressful communication glitch about which gas station to go to! Looking back, I can see how my snappy, “OK, just blame me for everything. It is always my fault!” was an emotional overreaction to Joel’s use of active voice, coupled with the carry-over tension, and the stress of the travel. (See more about active and passive voice in the most recent “Language Tip” on the new Subtle Communication Systems website at http://scs-matters.com/the-power-of-voice/)
But, the universe is a friendly place, and life is always inviting us back into balance. We do have the opportunity time and time again to remember what is real. Just as we got back on the highway, Joel passed a semi truck advertising a charity organization that helps treat facial deformities such as cleft lips and cleft palates. A child looking much like the one above, and the name of that organization, was spelled across the whole length of that truck:
At the exact moment we were passing the Operation Smile truck, I could also see a billboard to the left of the highway advertising some dental group: “Get your smile back.”
Today, as a way of honoring how life is working for me, I told all this to some of my colleagues in Reunion Ministry. I also mentioned a wonderful You Tube video about a little girl having a great time loving everything about her life. I told them I would send the link if I could find it.
When I got home from the reunion, and played the video, I noticed an ad on the screen. If you look closely, you will see that the ad is for operation smile…
OK, God, we get it! The universe truly is a friendly place.
By Debra Basham, on August 5, 2012
… something timeless and indestructible
within each of us
that can heal us and the world if
we can just open ourselves to it.
~ Mark Nepo
A dear friend was sharing about having recently read about the research into how some individuals meet crisis and trauma in life and come out resilient. Others are beaten or broken or become embittered. Our conversation reminded me of the story about carrots, eggs, and coffee beans.
You may have heard the story of how three
things—a carrot, an egg, and coffee beans—
respond differently to life’s challenges. After
reading this, you may never look at a cup of
coffee (or life) the same way again.
A young woman was complaining to her
mother, saying that life was too hard for her.
Facing what seemed to be an endless stream of
difficulties, she was feeling overwhelmed and
discouraged, and felt like giving up. She went to
her mother and told her about her life and how
things were so hard for her.
Her mother brought her into the kitchen where
she put three pans of water on three burners,
and turned them all on high. As the water
began to boil, in the first she placed carrots, in
the second she placed eggs, and in the last she
placed ground coffee beans. Again, letting life
teach, rather than lecturing her daughter, she let
them sit and boil, without saying a word.
After about twenty minutes or so, she turned off
the burners. She placed the carrots on a plate
next to the eggs, and she poured the coffee
into a cup. She turned to her
daughter and said simply, “Tell
me what you see.”
“I see carrots, eggs, and
coffee,” the daughter replied.
Her mother asked her to
touch the carrots and notice
that they were soft now.
She peeled an egg, showing that it was now
hard-boiled. She let her daughter take a sip of
the coffee. After her daughter asked what that
all meant, the mother wisely pointed out that
while each of these objects had faced the same
adversity—boiling water—each had reacted
differently.
The carrot had gone into the water strong, hard,
and unbending. After being subjected to the
boiling water, it became weak. The egg had
originally been fragile, with just a thin outer
shell protecting the liquid interior. After sitting
through the boiling water, the insides of the
egg had became hardened.
The ground coffee beans were unique, however.
After they were in the boiling water, they had
changed the water. The mother is said to have
asked the daughter, “Which are you?”
It is worth noticing when challenges come your
way, how have you responded? Have you been
like a carrot, an egg, or a coffee bean? Were you
like the carrot that seems strong, but with pain
and adversity, or illness or hardship, had you
lost your strength?
Were you like the egg that started with a soft
heart, but changed with the heat? Did you
let an unexpected death, the loss of a job, a
relationship change, or some other difficult
circumstances make you become hard-hearted
or inflexible? Had your shell looked the same,
but on the inside had you been feeling bitter?
We can all be more like the coffee bean.
The alchemy of life happens because the
bean actually changes the hot water, the very
circumstance that brings the pain. It is when the
water gets hot that the coffee bean releases the
fragrance and flavor. As you become more like
the bean, even if at times things seem to be at
their worst, those are times when you can only
get better because you change the way you
look at things and are able to change the
situation around you.
The happiest of people don’t necessarily always
have the best of everything. They just find ways
to make the most of everything that comes
along their way. The brightest future will always
be based on a past that is filled with stepping
stones rather than stumbling blocks. Letting go
of your past failures and heartaches compels you
to push forward with positive intent. Once you
let go of your disappointments, you find yourself
moving forward in life with greater confidence
and competence. Happier people are actually
smarter people.
~ Falling Together in Love: Stories From My Heart for and about YOU
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| To order your copy, visit http://scs-matters.com/products2.shtml. Profound gratitude to Patty Reddy for the magical illustrations and layout! |
By Debra Basham, on July 29, 2012
When we live from the heart, we can hear.
~ Jennifer McLean
Have you ever wondered what in the world it means when someone says to live from (or come from or be in) the heart? This week I had the wonderful opportunity to enjoy listening to an audio presentation by Jennifer McLean, of “Healing with the Masters.” This particular segment featured what Jennifer calls body dialoguing. If you are already familiar with the Imagine Healing process, you will recognize the similarity and the benefits. (See http://www.ImagineHealing.info)
I was so excited because I had a client coming in to work on “presence” as she undergoes some physical challenges. I knew she would find this process insightful and enjoy the freedom that comes from simply being with a thought or a feeling or a sensation—having a meaningful conversation with your genuine self.
Before I share the steps, ponder a quotation from Jennifer, “Everything that is here is something I requested for my evolution.”
When an individual is experiencing an upset, a health crisis, or even something as simple as a sensation, you can learn to be present with yourself in ways that will allow healing and transformation. I admit that I added the suggestion that you notice the color. Since everything in our world is made up of color, and we see color everywhere in our world, this is an important (and powerful) addition, and it is used in the Imagine Healing process.
- Where do I feel this in my body? What does it look like? What does it feel like? Cold? Hot? Tense? Color? Shape?
- Say: I am present with you. I am listening. I am not going anywhere. Be present in a space of support.
- Ask: How have you served me? What is the purpose of your being here?
- Discover: What was the thought in your head just before the upset/accident? (This can be recognized as some sort of fear.)
- Ask: Who planted that fear? How old were you when you had the first thought life was not safe?
- Bring your attention to that former you at that age. The current you is going to be the adult now (higher self). Let that little one purge the emotion as the adult you holds the space; nodding, rocking, stroking —being there in support.
- Now ask your body part and the little one (simultaneously): What do you need now? Jennifer says it will usually be a “god” quality. (Connirae Andreas identified these as core states in Core Transformations.)
- Ask: What would the full expression of this need look like and feel like right now? Feel it. Allow it.
- Ask: What would it feel like and look like six months from now as you are fully living this quality? Feel this and allow this.
As you appreciate these feelings, you might want to check in with the body part and test for more needs so you can repeat the process if other needs are expressed. It is so exciting that we are more and more choosing to free ourselves from painful perceptions. One of my favorite authors, Mark Nepo, writes that “the energy of the world floods through whatever moment we dare to enter fully.”
Wonderfully, a few days after listening to the presentation and the same day I had been with the client I shared this body dialogue exercise with, I experienced some pain in my foot. It was in the middle of my left foot—and the painful sensation was very deep, not on the surface at all. It was between my toes and the ball of my foot, and it was excruciating. I found it challenging to walk but it was painful even when I was not moving.
I was grateful you can remember to breathe. I began to just notice the sensation and affirm that I was willing to be present with it. When you do that, you are able to resist making up anything about it. I began to hold the intention: I am present with you. I am listening. I am not going anywhere.
Although I hobbled up and down the stairs several times, before I went to bed the sensation had totally vanished. What a wonderful process to remember and use and appreciate. Imagine healing that easily!
By Debra Basham, on July 23, 2012
God grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change;
courage to change the things I can;
and wisdom to know the difference.
~ Reinhold Niebuhr
This morning I was gifted with some wonderful time on the bluff, overlooking Lake Michigan, in downtown Saint Joseph, Michigan. The happy occasion was a reunion (of sorts) of our Interfaith Fellowship group. In various spaces and configurations that group has met since 1997. This gathering was co-created because one member who has been living in Florida for the past several years was in Saint Joseph visiting.
We brought our chairs, delicious and nutritious snacks to share, and hearts open to being together as the ONE. I introduced the inspirational cards from Wellness for All, the organization Mary Jo Bulbrook has helped birth into our world.
Detach was picked by two individuals, and the message of this one is probably deeply important for each of us now.
Detach
There are dimensions that are holding you back from your true destiny.
Learn to detach and release all that causes harm to your inner life
and ability to find true peace.
As you search and journey within,
you will find that all aspects of life have only one true mission
which is to pave the road to inner life of serenity that is within your control.
That message is clearly essentially that of The Serenity Prayer, those powerful and utterly familiar words penned by Reinhold Niebuhr.
It may not come as any surprise to most of us that the wisdom to know the difference is key. We cannot change the Aurora tragedy (as much as we might like). We cannot roll back time and unburn the acres devastated by wild fires. We cannot wish back a loved one. No amount of denial will unhappen history, however, that “inner life of serenity” unfolds perfectly as I surrender my desire to fight against what is out there and to embrace what is truly within my own control.
Our true nature is that delicate, silent, loving, inner state of peace.
I saw this Queen Anne’s Lace thriving, having come up between the cracks in a driveway. I love that Queen Anne’s Lace (as it is called in the U.S.) is considered a beneficial weed, because—according to Wikipedia—it is able to “boost tomato plant production and provide a microclimate of cooler, more moist air for lettuce,” just by growing nearby.
I am not sure if my fascination with weeds this summer is because the hot (unusually hot), dry (drastically dry), weather here has been so hard on annuals that the weeds are strikingly beautiful by contrast. I am more inclined to think it has something to do with my spiritual journey as I am coming to see the beauty of the weeds (unplanned, often wild, life-changing events) in my own life.
The following was written in the loneliness upon my return home to Michigan in April, 1996, and by May I was enrolled in the Living Ministry Program of Reunion. A year later I had gone on to birth the Holistic Alliance. In 2005, we were letting go of that form. Once again I feel that tugging at the weeds of my life, as though I am soon again to give birth to heaven knows what gifts for our world. Enjoy ~ Debra
Where can I go to find peace?
Where can I go that peace cannot find me?
Who is the searcher?
Who is the sought?
Peace is the natural state, trust and embrace a new thought.
The rhythm of peace is silence
the words a language of naught
I lay down beside the still waters
My burden immediately scatters.
Here, I become the me that matters.
Where is peace for my world?
my stars, my moon, my son?
Found simply waiting to be honored
For you, by be, my word…
A gift, freely given, in the silence to be heard.
By Debra Basham, on July 11, 2012
“But a weed is simply a plant that wants to grow
where people want something else.
In blaming nature, people mistake the culprit.
Weeds are people’s idea, not nature’s.”
~ Anonymous
I have been enjoying seeing all the “weeds” along the roads as I am out riding my bike or walking. I had an inspiration of what gift it might be if we were to all begin working with nature by planting only wildflowers.
Just the idea of these beauties having been unwanted seems more than just a bit foolish. They are very hardy plants that seem to be thriving even with this summer’s excessive heat and lack of rain.
This stream of thought about weeds soon led me to looking at other aspects of my life that might not automatically have been seen as gifts. If I am totally honest, the wild parts of my own nature have often been treated as weeds rather than treasured as wildflowers.
I certainly did not see the inherent beauty in my having to leave school in the tenth grade because I was expecting a child. Many assumed weeds were growing in my soul when I left my church and began the journey to becoming an Ordained Interfaith Minister. Others assumed something was amiss as I became trained in Healing Touch™.
In ways sometimes accessed only through the blessing of hindsight, it has been quite a sacred journey to realize that there is profound beauty in what grows wild. My ordination ceremony was July 12, 1997. It does not seem possible that it could really only have been fifteen years ago I became a Minister of Reunion. Today my heart welcomes the beauty of the wildness in the weeds of my own nature that led me to say, “Here I am, Lord…. I will hold your people in my heart.”
I am still saying YES to the divine within all of life as I sing the words of my ordination song, Here I Am Lord. The music and the lyrics are by Dan Schutte. (Copyright 1981)
I, the Lord of sea and sky,
I have heard my people cry.
All who dwell in darkness now
My hand will save.
I who make the stars of night,
I will make their darkness bright.
Who will bear my light to them?
Whom shall I send?
Here I am, Lord. It is I Lord.
I have heard you calling in the night.
I will go, Lord, where you lead me.
I will hold your people in my heart.
I, the Lord of snow and rain,
I have borne my people’s pain.
I have wept for love of them.
They turn away.
I will break their hearts of stone,
Give them hearts for love alone.
I will speak my words to them.
Whom shall I send?
Here I am, Lord. It is I Lord.
I have heard you calling in the night.
I will go, Lord, where you lead me.
I will hold your people in my heart.
I, the Lord of wind and flame,
I will tend the poor and lame.
I will set a feast for them.
My hand will save.
Finest bread I will provide,
Till their hearts be satisfied.
I will give my life to them.
Whom shall I send?
Here I am, Lord. It is I Lord.
I have heard you calling in the night.
I will go, Lord, where you lead me.
I will hold your people in my heart.
By Debra Basham, on June 24, 2012
Be still, and the world is bound to turn herself inside out to entertain you.
Everywhere you look, joyful noise is clanging to drown out quiet desperation.
High Tide in Tucson, by Barbara Kingsolver
When I was a youngster, I absolutely loved going to camp. There was something surreal about the experience, and the setting. I loved the connection to God I felt there. I felt that same thing last week as June 16-18, 2012, I was able to attend a three-day meditation retreat. We arrived on Saturday shortly after lunch. My dear friend, Claudia Mierau, has been attending this particular meditation retreat for about nine years. She and I were assigned to the same room so we brought in our luggage, and Claudia showed me around, introducing me to others she has known over the years. I had the sense that we were all a bit like children in our excitement and anticipation.
The retreat was held at The Emrich Retreat Center at Parishfield—nestled among 5,000 acres of state park land in Brighton, Michigan.
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| The Emrich Retreat Center at Parishfield in Brighton, Michigan. |
We gathered for an opening session in the meditation hall (held in the chapel), and each person introduced him- or herself, sharing a bit about our meditation experience, and telling if we had previously attended this specific retreat.
There was a wonderful mix of newbies and veterans, and I found some of the stories of what brought each of us there very touching. Easy conversation was shared over dinner—especially sweet as we all knew that once we entered the evening gathering we would all be in “noble silence” for the balance of the retreat. Being silent allows you to have your concentration on your practice of mindfulness as you walk, shower, open and close doors, do our work assignments, etc. I am not new to the practice of silence, but this was the largest group (maybe 50 people) and the longest time frame (3 days), and I found it to be a welcome and wonderful gift to body, mind, and spirit.
During the interview process with the teachers, I was given the suggestion of focusing especially on walking meditation during the free-time for practice. I was blessed to enjoy my practice in a marvelous labyrinth in the meadow near our dorm.
One of the first “lessons” came as I watched a bee drawing nectar from a buckhorn. In my mind, I was aware of the way I have experienced jealousy when other teachers have audience and fame. It was as though I was aware of an intrinsic knowing of the bee as to where to be. Deep peace came to my heart as I let that truth seep into my wounded perspectives of not being recognized or valued. Each awareness blessed me more and more deeply as the silence allowed me to witness my own inner states with compassion.
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| According to the chef, the labyrinth was home to fourteen varieties of dragonflies! |
One exercise was particularly profound. To see beyond the mundane, we were encouraged to look with defocused eyes or if we wore them to take off our glasses. I took my glasses off and spent the next hour walking in the labyrinth with that soft focus, seeing just the outlines of shapes and colors (big picture), rather than being focused on the details.
When I got to the center, I put my glasses back on and the beauty of the detail of the wildflowers nearly took my breath away!
I came away from my time at Emrich with a profound sense of inner peace. I will do my best to recall the experiences I had there and to make time to practice that holy awareness every day. What gift you give to the world when you can do that… and what gift you receive!
By Debra Basham, on June 12, 2012
Over the weekend, a wonderful young, Zen worker gave my front walkway a facelift, replacing the old, worn out, poorly installed concrete sidewalk with some beautiful new pavers—artfully designed and lovingly installed. Thank you, Rob Roy!
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| Thank you, Rob Roy, for designing and building our new Zen walkway! |
This morning, I am enjoying the surprisingly cool air and the peaceful ambiance while having my inner time out here. As I listen to the sounds of the birds—and the sounds of the traffic—I am reminded of the saying that opinions are like @$$holes. Everyone has one.
In my opinion, the bird sounds, and the gentle singing of the leaves blowing in the breeze, are sounds of nature, and the traffic sounds (both near and distant) are not.
Seng-ts’an said there is no need to seek the truth—just put a stop to your opinions. If his name is new to you, an internet search will reveal that his life was lived in the late sixth century, and he was the third patriarch of the early Chan (Zen) lineage in China. One teaching story about his life is that he had leprosy when he met his teacher, Hui-k’o, when Hui-k’o asked Seng-ts’an what he could possibly want since he had leprosy.
According to one website, Seng-ts’an is supposed to have replied, “Even if my body is sick, the heart-mind of a sick person is no different from you heart-mind.” Impressed by this response, Hui-k’o accepted Seng-ts’an as his disciple, and later named him his spiritual successor.
It probably comes as no surprise that our earth is under some stress right now. That is something a lot of people have a lot of opinions about. I have a few of my own. Yesterday I took this photo of some beautiful trees, all of which had been brutally maimed to accommodate utility lines. As the horror of the butchering came into my awareness, I heard these words of wisdom inside my head, “This could have all been avoided by simply putting the wires underground or realizing how big we would grow to be and planting us in a safe place.”
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| There is a better way…. Utility wires can be underground. |
Both yesterday and today I have drawn the Gecko card, the subtitle of which is: Do What We Must in Struggles. Gecko teaches the importance of righteous anger and the need for proper responses to the causes of that anger. We lessen stress by doing what we can.
We can place utility wires underground and we can plan sufficiently as to give trees room to take root and grow tall and live long and happy lives filled with just the right amount of rain and sun and wind and calm. And we can remember that all humans are a part of nature—rather than a part from nature.
One opinion I hold is what the world needs now is awareness…. My life is dedicated to expanding my own and that of others. I will begin right now by surrendering my opinion in order to let truth find me sitting here on my beautiful new walkway enjoying the early morning air and the sounds of all of nature.
By Debra Basham, on June 2, 2012
Your success and happiness lie in you….
Resolve to keep happy,
and your joy and you shall form an invincible host against difficulties.
~ Helen Keller
It seems as though I have used this quotation before. Helen Keller’s attitude always touches me. A few years ago, the beautiful daughter of my dear friend, Tanya, played the role in The Miracle Worker at our local community theater. It is quite significant to realize that challenges can create character.
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| Forgiveness can feel a lot like the dawn coming up over the horizon. |
Recently, I have been working as administrative assistant to Johnny on the Spot Window Cleaning Service. It is amazing to me the difference in attitudes people have. What makes that difference? Is it personality or circumstances? I certainly know at times I bring my best to the table and at other times I fall far short.
And just last night, worn to an emotional breaking point by a very demanding schedule complicated by two days of rain, we were edgy with one another, having gone to bed in stony silence. Fortunately, this morning the sun is out. He came down the hall and said simply but honestly, “I am sorry for being such a crab last night.” My response, “It’s OK. We have both been under a lot of pressure.”
The following is excerpted from “I’m Still Learning to Forgive” by Corrie ten Boom (GuidepostsMagazine. Copyright © 1972 by Guideposts Associates, Inc., Carmel, New York 10512).
It was in a church in Munich that I saw him—a balding, heavyset man in a gray overcoat, a brown felt hat clutched between his hands. People were filing out of the basement room where I had just spoken, moving along the rows of wooden chairs to the door at the rear. It was 1947 and I had come from Holland to defeated Germany with the message that God forgives.
It was the truth they needed most to hear in that bitter, bombed-out land, and I gave them my favorite mental picture. Maybe because the sea is never far from a Hollander’s mind, I liked to think that that’s where forgiven sins were thrown. ‘When we confess our sins,’ I said, ‘God casts them into the deepest ocean, gone forever. …’
The solemn faces stared back at me, not quite daring to believe. There were never questions after a talk in Germany in 1947. People stood up in silence, in silence collected their wraps, in silence left the room.
And that’s when I saw him, working his way forward against the others. One moment I saw the overcoat and the brown hat; the next, a blue uniform and a visored cap with its skull and crossbones. It came back with a rush: the huge room with its harsh overhead lights; the pathetic pile of dresses and shoes in the center of the floor; the shame of walking naked past this man. I could see my sister’s frail form ahead of me, ribs sharp beneath the parchment skin. Betsie, how thin you were!
[Betsie and I had been arrested for concealing Jews in our home during the Nazi occupation of Holland; this man had been a guard at Ravensbruck concentration camp where we were sent.]
Now he was in front of me, hand thrust out: ‘A fine message, Fräulein! How good it is to know that, as you say, all our sins are at the bottom of the sea!’
And I, who had spoken so glibly of forgiveness, fumbled in my pocketbook rather than take that hand. He would not remember me, of course—how could he remember one prisoner among those thousands of women?
But I remembered him and the leather crop swinging from his belt. I was face-to-face with one of my captors and my blood seemed to freeze.
‘You mentioned Ravensbruck in your talk,’ he was saying, ‘I was a guard there.’ No, he did not remember me.
‘But since that time,’ he went on, ‘I have become a Christian. I know that God has forgiven me for the cruel things I did there, but I would like to hear it from your lips as well. Fräulein,’ again the hand came out—’will you forgive me?’
And I stood there—I whose sins had again and again to be forgiven—and could not forgive. Betsie had died in that place—could he erase her slow terrible death simply for the asking?
It could not have been many seconds that he stood there—hand held out—but to me it seemed hours as I wrestled with the most difficult thing I had ever had to do.
For I had to do it—I knew that. The message that God forgives has a prior condition: that we forgive those who have injured us. ‘If you do not forgive men their trespasses,’ Jesus says, ‘neither will your Father in heaven forgive your trespasses.’
I knew it not only as a commandment of God, but as a daily experience. Since the end of the war I had had a home in Holland for victims of Nazi brutality. Those who were able to forgive their former enemies were able also to return to the outside world and rebuild their lives, no matter what the physical scars. Those who nursed their bitterness remained invalids. It was as simple and as horrible as that.
And still I stood there with the coldness clutching my heart. But forgiveness is not an emotion—I knew that too. Forgiveness is an act of the will, and the will can function regardless of the temperature of the heart. … ‘Help!’ I prayed silently. ‘I can lift my hand. I can do that much. You supply the feeling.’
And so woodenly, mechanically, I thrust my hand into the one stretched out to me. And as I did, an incredible thing took place. The current started in my shoulder, raced down my arm, sprang into our joined hands. And then this healing warmth seemed to flood my whole being, bringing tears to my eyes.
‘I forgive you, brother!’ I cried. ‘With all my heart!’
For a long moment we grasped each others hands, the former guard and the former prisoner. I had never known God’s love so intensely, as I did then.
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| One of the many crosses I saw in Europe last year. |
I am coming to appreciate how much my physical well-being is connected to my emotional well-being, and vice versa. When I am tired or hungry or have not been eating well, I have fewer emotional resources. Likewise, when I am angry or afraid, annoyed or frustrated, my hormones and my physiology are adversely affected by those emotions. If Corrie ten Boom could forgive, perhaps there is that sacred space within each one of us as well.
It reminds me of the reading for today in Mark Nepo’s The Book of Awakening, “Tragedy stays alive by feeding what’s been done to us, while peace comes alive by living with the result.” We truly are human beings having a physical experience, aren’t we….
By Debra Basham, on May 22, 2012
Please forgive me. I forgive you. Thank you. I love you.
Ira Byock wrote an amazing book about how we can all live our lives with less regret by staying aware of what matters most. The Four Things That Matter Mostcame after he had spent over a decade in emergency medicine, and more than two decades in hospice and palliative care watching people wrestle with the inner demons of wishing things had been different. What four phrases matter most? These phrases that burn peace into our hearts: Please forgive me. I forgive you. Thank you. I love you.
Recently I saw how powerful those energies are, especially between a parent and an adolescent child. This past weekend, my grandson, Adam, and my son-in-law, Doug, were racing go-karts here in Michigan! (see Deep Gratitude blog post from Wednesday, January 4, 2012) Since the track was only about 40 miles from where Lisa lives, she and her husband came out for the day. Lisa is my husband’s niece but she is also my beloved god daughter. It was a rather magical opportunity to share the day.
Lisa’s cell phone did not have reception at the track, but she had been keeping tabs on her younger daughter via text messages through her nephew, Kyle. Lisa granted permission for an outing. The agreement was, “Let me know when you are back.”
Time passed… no word. Lisa left several messages asking her daughter to call her. Nothing… With growing tension, and knowing she would not relax until she knew her daughter was fine, Lisa and her husband headed home.
When Lisa called to tell me she had finally heard from her daughter and that they had been having so much fun playing outside in the sprinklers in the 90 degree heat she had forgotten to give her mom a call. Lisa was on her way to pick her daughter up, saying to her, “You know the rule. You broke the rule.”
My heart broke in that moment…. the mother in me had given way to the grandmother in me. Mothers love so much they can sometimes feel enough responsibility that that rules can in the emotional moments seem more important than the four things that really do matter most. Before hanging up, filled with compassion, I remember quietly saying to Lisa that long after I was a parent myself, I had been at my own mother’s, heading home in Michigan winter weather with the request to let her know we had made it home safely. I would make my way through that storm, and then arrive home but totally forget to give her a call to let her know we had arrived safely until my phone would ring. I would hear her voice and realize how worried she had been.
Lisa said, “Thank you. That just took me down a few pegs. I have done that, too.”
The reason Byock recognized those four things matter most is that we all have….
I am on a healing circle and a member, Lois, recently shared “Something came into my life while here in California. After months of processing and listening, I have found its purpose in my life. ‘It’ is an old Italian candelabra. It is now an important part of my healing ritual. I light a particular candle with a tone and prayer from a request to the Sound Healing Circle. The candle will burn as spirit moves, sometimes an hour, sometimes days. I am so full of joy with this added source of energy from the candle light, the crystal reflections, along with my own energy, together with all of yours, including my Italian ancestors. Life is so blessed as we share and support each other. Gratitude. Gratitude.”
Here is a photo of the Italian candelabra Lois uses as part of her healing ritual. Today, in my heart, I light the candles out of gratitude that our lives are blessed as we share and support each other by remembering and gently reminding one another I have done that, too.
Thank you, Lois. Thank you, Lisa. Thank you, Life. Gratitude. Gratitude.
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