Latest Endeavor

Back in late January or early February I got a post card in the mail. It was one of those random pieces of advertising that usually gets filed in the trash before I even read what’s on it. This time, though, I couldn’t let go of it. Really. I physically could not make myself drop it in the bucket. I looked at it, and both the front and back were covered in words that I had no time to read or be bothered with. I had enough legitimate mail to deal with that day and categorized this as simply junk mail. But a few words did pop off the card and catch my attention: love, miracles, holistic, experiential.

I kept the post card.

Later that night, I noticed that the postcard wasn’t even addressed to me, but a former tenant. I knew, however, that the postcard was, in fact, meant for me. The sender just didn’t know it.

There were several things on the card that I became very interested in. First, it contained an invitation to two events—an evening of “Love, Medicine, and Miracles” with Dr. Bernie Siegel and a weekend exploring “Holistic Health from a Pioneer’s Perspective” with Dr. Norm Shealy. On another part of the card was information about earning a degree in Experiential Health and Healing. In another section was information about when and where I could attend an informational session about the program.

I was a little disappointed because I knew I would not be in the area on the day of the session, but I soon forgot about it. The postcard ended up on my desk in a heap of other papers.

I remember driving home from my out-of-state visit on the day of the informational session. I kicked myself a bit because, if I had just planned a little better and got myself out of bed a little earlier, I probably could have made it home in time to attend. And, as I drove, it began snowing. Flurries. Then big, fluffy flakes. Then the real heavy stuff. It was slow going. A three hour drive turned into four and a half. I wondered if the people who sent that postcard might have to cancel that day’s informational session.

Yes, they did.

After arriving home, I visited their website. I shot off an email to see if they were going to reschedule the event. They did, but it was on yet another day that I already had plans for. Oh, well. The card sat in the same growing paper pile. And then it happened again. Another snow storm. My plans got cancelled. The informational session got cancelled. And the third time was a charm. The event was once again rescheduled, but this time to a better day and time. I finally got to meet the program that I had been falling in love with through that postcard!

The program that I committed myself to before I even learned everything there was to know about it is The Graduate Institute’s Master of Arts in Experiential Health and Healing. It was the answer to my prayer. That’s why the postcard was mistakenly placed in my mailbox. It’s why I couldn’t toss it out. It’s why the first two sessions that I couldn’t attend were cancelled.

Okay, maybe that’s a little self-centered of me to think all these things happened just for my benefit. But that’s what it always feels like when I’m walking on the path that I’m meant to be walking on. Things fall into place as they need to. Just like it did in this case. And that notion—the fact that it’s where I’m supposed to be at this time—makes me even more excited about the program.

As it says on The Graduate Institute’s website, their programs are designed to “explore new applications for emerging knowledge in the arts, humanities, natural and social sciences.” That’s what my prayer was all about—new applications. I had gotten tired of doing the same old things in the same old way. All that that was accomplishing was giving me more of the same old results.

There is so much new knowledge being uncovered every day. What is this knowledge? Can I incorporate it into my life to make my life better? Can I use it to help other people? I want in on this!

I had been trying to defragment various parts of my life. My writer self was in one place. My healer self in another place. My spiritual self in yet another place. Then there was my daytime self who was trying to keep food on the table and a roof over her head. My weekend and evening self who just wants to relax and enjoy her special relationship with her special someone. My prayer was to find a way to connect all these aspects of myself. To find a way to be all of me all of the time.

At first I didn’t know how this was an answer to my prayer. I only knew that it was the answer. And, although I still don’t know 100% where this education will lead me or how it will integrate all my facets, I’m getting a clearer vision day by day as I immerse myself in the process.

I see myself right now as divided into three parts: writer, healer, teacher. By the end of this program, I hope and believe that I will be able to call myself just one thing. I don’t know what the word for that one thing will be, so for now I will call it writer-healer-teacher.

I’m only in my third month of the program, but already I am learning about the source of good health, and also what good health really is—and it’s more than just being able to get out of bed in the morning. I want to share these things with others through my writing. I want to apply what I learn and what I know to my Reiki practice and to other healing modalities that I have yet to experience. I want to be a healer, but I also want to help people find the healer within themselves. And I believe I can do these things.

There is still much to learn. I don’t even want to make a plan about where this is all going until I know more about what the possibilities are. I even stated that on my application essay. I figured if they didn’t want to accept me because I didn’t have a firm goal in mind, then the program probably wasn’t right for me anyway. As it is, they seem to welcome my lack of planning. And this is the first time I have ever been as pleased as I am right now with the world of academia.

There are eight other women walking this path alongside of me. For now. We know that we are each heading toward different destinations. The vision I have is not the same vision that my cohorts have. We come from different places, we are going to different places, but in the meantime we are learning from each other and experiencing things together and they are as much a part of the process as the program itself. This isn’t a typical college experience where you sign up for a bunch of random, disconnected classes and at the end you “become” something. The program will carry us together, as a unit, to the end, which of course is really the beginning of the “becoming” process, and the whole thing is just so exciting to me.

I know I will be sharing more of this experience on my blog, so I will leave it here for now before this post gets any longer. Now it’s time for me to work on a few assignments . . .

Broken Words

It is often said that actions speak louder than words. I believe it’s a comparison of apples and oranges. Actions are powerful. Words are powerful. Why try to rank one over the other?

Actions can define meaning in much the way that words do. Yet, we need words (thoughts) in order to act. We also need action (speech, writing) in order to use words.

Sometimes it seems as if words can be used with no action or effort, as when someone speaks thoughtlessly or writes disjointedly or only half pays attention to what someone is saying. Yet, ineffective action is still action. So, to say “action speaks louder than words” doesn’t really make sense when you understand words this way. Words are action.

God created existence with a Word, so I believe. Creation is action. The Word is action. A word is not simply an icon that is recorded and then forgotten. We too create with words, even if we are not aware of it. Obviously we don’t create as effectively as God, but we create all the same. And we have potential to create beauty and we have potential to create ugliness. It’s all based on our choice of words and how we choose to use them. We can speak them, write them, think them. We can keep them to ourselves, use them in our prayers, share them with other people.

What does it mean to break a word? When someone breaks his word, he no longer stands by his initial use of his words. His words become a lie. Some words are a lie from the start. These words are born broken. They are worse than meaningless, but not without power—negative power. They may initially create a desired effect but, because there is no real foundation holding them firm, the effect cannot last.

I believe people break words and use broken words because they are trying to control something. Maybe they’re trying to give meaning to something that has no meaning. Or they’re trying to change a thing’s meaning. In effect, they are trying to change reality, or at least disguise it. But if control can’t be found within straightforward truthful words, it certainly won’t be found in broken words or by breaking words.

Broken words create nothing lasting.

Forgiving the Guilty

When you’ve done something wrong, how eager are you to get the issue out in the open and begin the healing process? Is your degree of eagerness the same in every case? Or does it depend on the circumstance?

My guess is that it depends on the circumstance. Speaking for myself, I know I have an easier time apologizing for something I did wrong if what I did is already out in the open. The need to apologize is almost instinctual if I see the harm I caused and see the pain in another’s eyes. But it’s not always as easy to fess up to something that no one took notice of. There’s the dilemma of whether revealing the matter is worth the pain that may result from the confession. After all, if nobody knows what I did, and nobody was harmed by it, what’s the worry?

The worry is guilt. Even a small amount of guilt can interfere with how we feel about ourselves. When we carry guilt, we carry ourselves differently. Our joy decreases. We feel less than worthy of the goodness around us. Guilt can only be ignored for so long before it interferes in our relationships. Out of a sense of shame, we distance ourselves from the person or people we are hiding our guilt from, and so we end up failing them twice, compounding both the mistake and the guilt.

So, in remembering your own mistakes and failings, do you have a little more empathy for the guilty? How hard is it for people to approach you when they have offended you in some way? Are you a soft place to land for those who have fallen? Or are you a pane of glass that reflects shame and disappointment as they come crashing down to be wounded further by the resulting shards?

Given that forgiveness is so important both for the giver and the receiver, I believe we are at our best when we are approachable, prepared to listen with empathy and without judgment, and willing to love people even when they fail us. Even more so if we love them when they are not aware of their failings. And more so still if we love them when they seem indifferent to their failings. In other words, we are at our best when we treat others the way we want to be treated when it’s our turn at screwing up (and we all get our turn!)

Admitting mistakes is difficult enough, so it doesn’t serve us well when we give others a reason to conceal their offenses. Wounds can’t be healed until they are acknowledged and taken care of. None of us are perfect and none of us are expected to be, so we shouldn’t act as if it’s so. Forgiveness is a beautiful gift. But that gift can only be transferred when we are approachable.