Last night, Sunday night, the night I usually post a new entry here, I was lying in the bathtub, trying to think of something to write about. Something meaningful that might ignite a new thought in the minds of my readers; help you experience life a little differently, feel a smidge more joy-filled. But, I was stumped. So I went to bed, covered up my head, and asked Spirit for guidance.

Monday morning, between the piano tuner and the plumber, the rain and the to-do list, I forgot to tune in and ask my heart for a good writing tip. Instead I braved the mall the week of Christmas. What was I thinking, as I pulled into the full-to-capacity parking lot ? I finally got inside and decided to have lunch at my favorite café before braving the miasma of the mall. Luckily, I found a seat at the counter.

After I ordered, the fellow sitting next to me with his open face and warm eyes, turned and asked, “How is it out there?” The implication being, how are the crowds in the mall. I said I hadn’t yet decided to leave the comforting confines of the store we were in. He smiled and said maybe he would just stay in the store, too. We chatted while I chewed through my pecan tuna salad sandwich on rye toast and sipped my tortilla soup. He told me in July, his mother had passed away at seventy-four. This would be his first Christmas without her. He said it was very hard, and that recently he had had to leave a ladies shop he was in with a couple while the wife shopped for her sister’s birthday. He said it was too much for him because he saw things he wanted to buy for his mother. I said how sorry I was and that I understood because I too had lost my Mother. I said that first Christmas without her was a doozy for me. I fell silent. As I nibbled the last bites of my sandwich, I could feel the sadness of this sweet man’s heart. I searched my mind for something meaningful to say to him, something that might give him a wee bit of comfort. I finally asked my heart, my source of all truth: what might I say that could be of help?

In the blink of an eye the answer came to me. My heart, which has never failed me since I started actively asking and consciously listening for the response, gave me the perfect thing to say.” Why don’t you go to one of your Mother’s favorite stores and find something you would like to buy her and which you know she would have loved receiving. Buy it. Have it wrapped just as you would if you were going to give it to Mom. Now think of someone who could use a boost this time of year, someone you know who would relish the chance to sit at this counter and enjoy gourmet tuna. Give her the gift you chose for your Mother. You will give someone something wonderful and unexpected, and allow the spirit of your mother to be felt by another,  ” I said smoothly, effortlessly, as if I had had this thought every day of my life. (That’s a heart thought–ones that just comes out of your mouth so perfectly, so naturally, but, that’s a topic for another day.)

He turned towards me and just kind of stared, boring into me with his large liquidy eyes. In that instant it happened. From long experience I knew; we had made a heart connection. Slowly a grin spread across his face and he said that was a great idea. A great idea. He then offered his sincere thanks, several times, and said he couldn’t believe what a perfect idea it was. He got up, walked out of the store and was gone. I thanked Spirit for the perfect response and paid my bill.

Later, as I was re-entering the store after a very short visit to the mall, the fellow reappeared at my side. “I just want to thank you again for your wonderful idea. I feel so much better just thinking about it and I know it’s the right thing to do to honor my Mother. Thank you, thank you, and Merry Christmas!” he said, then he stepped away and the crowd swallowed him up. I smiled, I said thank you silently once more. I knew I had only listened to my heart and done what Spirit suggested. I had made a heart connection with a stranger during a ten-minute conversation. I love the way the Universe works.

The way is not in the sky.
The way is in the heart.
Dhammapada 18

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You make hundreds of choices every day. You choose what to eat for breakfast, what to wear, whether to have coffee or tea and what needs your attention this day. Your choice-making muscles– your head and your heart– have been working since birth offering advice on how to manage life. But, more than likely your head does most of the work, and your heart sits in the background with dancing shoes on, ready, waiting, hoping to be invited for a spin around the room. Now it is time to consciously engage both parts of you in choosing how you desire to experience your own world, the world around you and those other folks who share the floor.

Your power to choose is the most powerful exercise of human will available to you. In understanding what is true about life around you in general and your life in particular, you make the best choice of what to believe based on what you have experienced and learned, what you think about the past, and your guess about the future. The Talmud expresses this so beautifully, “We do not see things as they are. We see things as we are.” So, in your brain you mix these particular bits of information together to form your own personal worldview, your beliefs about yourself and the world around you.

Imagine you could deliberately create a new worldview by choosing to believe something different than what you have been told, been taught or have surmised from your life experiences. You can. By setting this intention and tapping into your heart you become the conscious creator of your own life; you decide your life is to be something more fulfilling than what it is at present.

This decision marks your starting point; a chance at a more joy-filled life. You cannot know exactly where this will lead, but to make this choice, you step onto the path that leads to a heart-centered life. Your next move is to set your intention and gently escort it into reality.

Few cross over the river.
Most are stranded on this side.
On the riverbank they run up and down.

But the wise man, following the way,
Crosses over, beyond the reach of death.

He leaves the dark way
For the way of light.
He leaves his home, seeking
Happiness on the hard road.

Dhammapada 6

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So many people asked me, in the weeks since my blog of 11/13, why I didn’t include my Grandmother’s meringue recipe in the blog, that I have decided to reprint it here. All my life she made this same recipe to top her famous pies. Each time I make it now, I think of her, in her faded green bib apron with it red and white checkered trim and two little white buttons with whisks stamped in red, buttoned  each pocket tight.

She always told me anything was possible in my life, if I chose to believe it was possible, and I trusted it would come to me in time. “Have the faith of a mustard seed,” she said, referring to the Biblical story, and then she would turn humble egg whites into shiny wintertime fairy castles before my doubtful blue eyes. Making meringue reaffirms my knowing that I have the power to choose.

Magical Meringue
Heat oven to 300*
3 egg whites
1 Tablespoon water
Dash of salt
¼ Teaspoon cream of tartar
4 Tablespoons powdered sugar
¾ Teaspoon vanilla
Mix the egg whites, water and salt together. Beat the eggs until frothy and add the cream of tartar.
Beat until they are almost stiff. Beat in ½ teaspoon of sugar at a time, until all in combined.
Continue whipping and slowly add the vanilla. Beat until peaks form and it holds its shape well.
Pile lightly on top of pie filling and bake for 15-20 minutes, until golden edges form on the top of the peaks.
Cool completely on a cool counter.

By attempting the impossible, one can attain the highest level of the possible.
August Strindberg, Swedish playwright

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