My Father-in-law went to his new home this past weekend; his last home. Greg’s mom packed up his clothes and a few personal things and bought him a television for his room. He seemed  happy to be there. He has not asked to leave or go “home,” yet. He has made new friends with two ladies and a gentleman at the home, and the two ladies love to sit and listen to John’s stories of the Korean War. Sadly, none of the three of them remember what was said, so to his audience John’s stories will always be new adventures.

After the emotionally draining day, Greg slept better that night than he has in months, so did his mom. She no longer has to worry about John getting up in the night and bringing all the power tools from the garage into the bedroom, or taking the VCR apart. The grieving, for anyone, has not set in yet. It seems like John’s just on vacation and he will return home after a nice rest. Greg’s mom can’t really comprehend that he will never come back. Could anyone after being married to the same person for fifty-three years?

I am happy for him, and happy in his happy in his new home. He can sleep as late as he wants and have breakfast at noon, if he so desires. His new home is beautiful and bright and spotless, with cheerful fabircs on the furniture and beautiful views of Puget Sound. The folks that run the facility seem more like walking saints than flesh and blood humans, they have been so kind and understanding and helpful.

My heart is grateful such a lovely place with such nice people, two blocks from his old house, existed, and that they had one spot available. It all fit together so effortlessly. I am most grateful to the Universe for these blessings.

 What matters is the sense of giving thanks and praise, the feeling of a humble and grateful heart.
Oliver Sacks

Both my parents died quickly, my Father, four days after complaining of not feeling well, had a massive heart attack. A few years later, my Mother caught pneumonia and passed away a week later. My brother and sister and I had no time to grieve beforehand, no time to prepare ourselves. Which is a better way? Instant change or, like my husband and in-laws, knowing this was coming for literally years? I think it is different for everyone, I could not choose how my parents died, only my response to the hand I was dealt. So this is all new to me, the slow death of Alzheimer’s. It’s the gift that keeps on taking.

My husband, an only child, has been hit with moments of such sadness that he can barely breathe. He mourns for the Father he knew, but is now largely gone, and breaks down as he negotiates the contract with the facility, understanding he is truly an adult now, and holds the fate of his Father’s future in his hands. I have asked my heart for guidance, listened for that small still voice to tell me what is the best course of action. I have watched the entire first season of Downton Abbey, twice, and I have cooked my husband’s favorite dinners and held him.

This week as the proper clothes are bought, the few personal, hopefully recognizable items are packed, I will try to live from my heart, forget the past petty grievances I had with my father-in-law, and do what I can to support my husband and his family to make this transition. I know my heart will guide me, even as it is breaking.

My firm belief is that God reveals himself daily to every human being, but we shut our ears to that “still small voice.”
Mohandas Gandhi

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

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

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

You have had your fill of turkey sandwiches and football, tomorrow the holiday season officially start and you, and me some years, just aren’t feeling very loving, giving, or even a teensy-weensy bit festive in the least. I know how that feels. Some years I have thought I would find a tree house, move in, and stay until early January.

Holidays can be hard for many reasons. I sometimes dread them because it seems to get harder each year to get everything done and still find some time to enjoy the season itself. That’s when taking time to be grateful becomes my lifeline to surviving, and maybe even enjoying, the holidays.

So much research backs this up.  Last week, The New York Times (see link below) ran a delightful editorial by John Tierney who quoted several great researchers in the field of gratitude, Dr. Robert Emmons and Dr. Michael  McCullough. Both gentlemen, along with Dr. Martin Seligman, the father of the Positive Psychology movement, all find that being grateful, even just once a week writing down five things going right in your life, can make you feel happier and more loving towards others.

That’s a lot of payoff for so little an investment.

What if, each time you got up to go down the hall at the office, or got out of the car during the day, or brushed your teeth, you practiced my new One Minute Meditation? This meditation is an abbreviated version on my longer Gratitude Meditation, and in it I ask you to be grateful for one thing going right in your life right now, in this moment, and it only takes a moment to do, just 60 seconds.

 Try it for a week. 7 days. You can do it.

One of the incredible truths about gratitude is that it is impossible to feel both the positive emotion of thankfulness and a negative emotion such as anger or fear at the same time.

 M. J. Ryan

http://www.nytimes.com/2011/11/22/science/a-serving-of-gratitude-brings-healthy-dividends.html?_r=1

The week of Thanksgiving is upon us: turkeys, cooking, Pilgrims, and the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade.

 We are busy!

So what is going right for you in this moment? What is going right for you today? What is going right for you this week?

Close your eyes for a second and think of something going right, it can be anything.

This is what is going right for me: _____________________________________________

See, I knew you could do it. Now say “thank you” to yourself or out loud.

You just acknowledged that among the cranking up insanity of the holidays, which begins “officially” this week (ha!), there is something to be grateful for. Could you do this at least twice a day until Thursday’s meal? Your heart and mind will now be primed to suggest a new tradition at your Thanksgiving table: The Gratitude Game.

Here’s how it works:
* After the turkey and stuffing, during the pie and coffee time, suggest that you go around the table and each person tells one thing going right in his or her life right now that they are thankful for.

* See how it goes… If you have a tough group, you could call it quits, adjourn, and go wash the dishes. But, with a little encouragement from you, I’ll bet you can tease out a second round. How about a third? That’s usually the maximum folks feel comfortable with, although I have heard stories about some families that went for 11 rounds before they went for naps or football.

* After you finish, notice how you feel.

Please let me know how it went and Happy Thanksgiving!

When I started counting my blessings, my whole life turned around.
Willie Nelson

Can you dare to believe? Can you let your imagination float out beyond what you can see in front of you on this plane of reality and entertain the possibility of something else? Can you choose to believe your life or your world can be different?

Around this time of the year–Thanksgiving and the holiday season, I think of the miracle of meringue when I need to believe my situation, what I’m presently experiencing, can be different. Why meringue, you ask a bit incredulously? Not only does it top my great Grandmother’s cherished holiday pie recipe, but to create meringue you have to believe in possibility.

There in the bowl in front of you sits an unappetizing glob of uncooked egg whites, some cream of tartar and a scoop of sugar.

That’s reality.

You see it, you can feel it and if you’re so inclined, you can taste it. In goes your whisk, and just as your arm is about to cease functioning for the rest of your adult life, something happens and before your very eyes the bowl of slimy liquid transforms into  shiny, snow white peaks and valleys of luscious meringue for which, you are most grateful ,and possibly astounded. You believed it could be, just like it said in the Joy of Cooking, and it happened.

So this week, imagine whatever is making you feel sad, frustrated, angry or helpless, as the raw batter in the bowl. Now, see it, feel it, choose it to be transformed into something abundant, beautiful, and wonderfully delicious.

  “You will see it when you believe it.”

                                           Wayne Dyer

Choosing to believe a situation, an experience or your life can be different is a lesson I had to relearn
(again) this week.

Monday started off with a big disappointment and the week went downhill from there, adding a second
and then a third blow. Into the tar pit I fell– weighted down with anger, frustration, helplessness, and
all-around self-pity. For several days I struggled against the dense, viscous cocoon I had created. I barely
saw over the dark surface, much less actively tried to choose to believe something, anything, would
ever, could ever, be different.

At times like these, it’s hard to stay focused. I looked into the handbag of my life and dug out some
things for which I could be grateful right then, in that present moment. I sat on my patio and went
through a short list. I practiced my Gratitude Meditation^SM and came up with a few more. I acknowledged
what was going right in my sea of sorrow. As the week came to a close, I sporadically believed these
setbacks were only temporary; in the timing of the universe they would work themselves out to my
benefit, despite what I was seeing in front of me, and how my return to running old belief tapes through
my head had dumped me into my fabricated black abyss.

Like a punching doll that falls over when hit, I am slowly swaying back up to center by reconnecting to
my center, the source of all truth–my heart, dwelling in thanks giving, and gingerly reclaiming my power
to choose to believe something different. You can too.

Human beings, by changing the inner attitudes of their minds, can change the outer aspects of
their lives.
William James (1842 – 1910)