Anywhere is Heaven

At the beach recently I saw a kid wearing a t-shirt that read, “As long as you’re with the right people, anywhere is heaven.” Amen to that.

So much in life depends upon our perspective. And our perspective is heavily influenced by those around us. So, with the right traveling companions, anywhere is heaven.

Surround yourself with the wrong people – negative, critical, controlling, etc. – and you might find you’ve created your own personal hell.

We have a lot of power to create the life we want, through our thinking and our attitude, and by the relationships we choose.

All this is to say that it’s good to surround yourself with the people who make you feel good, and who help you be at your personal best, regardless of the circumstances you, or they, may be facing.

And when it seems like the wrong people are everywhere you turn, sometimes it’s better to just enjoy your own company.

The Long Game

“Karma plays the long game.” – Sara Eckel

A lot of times people in spiritual practice become preoccupied by the idea of karma, and misunderstand it to mean that everyone who behaves selfishly will get their comeuppance in some fashion, while all the wronged parties are watching.

Not so with karma. Because the concept of karma assumes reincarnation and a soul’s lessons over lifetimes, it just means that everything comes out in the wash. In other words, no one gets away with anything, ever.

But this simply means that if we don’t learn a lesson the first time it’s presented, it will continue to be presented to us in various forms until we pass the test.

And, if we can’t understand other people’s perspectives, or viewpoints, we may find opportunities to do so firsthand, in the scheme of things.

But karma’s not really a reward-punishment system, in the strictest sense.

Karma’s just part of the process of earth school. Except that unlike conventional schooling, there’s no scheduled timeframe to complete the lessons.

You’re done when you’re done.

In the meantime, you’re just here to learn.

You have got to be kidding me

My friends know that nothing enrages me like shoveling snow.

Yes, you read that right. It’s entirely irrational.

Recently I told one of my friends how I had to shovel a snow drift at the end of my driveway. Even though it took only a few minutes, I got so angry, I found myself saying at least a few choice words aloud as I did it. I could feel my whole body tensing in anger.  “You have got to be f****** kidding me.”


She told me, “You should write about this in your blog.”

My response? “Why? So people will know how crazy I really am?”

She said, “No one really thinks you ever get angry. I’ve never seen you get angry.”

She’s not the first person to suggest that they’d like to see me get angry.

People routinely tell me that they think I must lead a charm-filled, stress-free life.

I assure you that this is both true and not true.

I choose to believe that my life is the way it is for a reason. That the reason is both me, and not me (in other words, it’s bigger than me). Nothing in my life looks the way I planned it. And yet, it’s both more and less than I expected.

Sometimes we tend to label emotions as good or bad. Anger isn’t a bad emotion. It can be harmful when expressed in certain ways, though.

One of my long-time male friends used to sometimes break furniture when the wrong team won the football game.

I always wanted to ask him, “What are you really angry about?”

He lives alone, so I guess if he’s breaking his own furniture maybe he’s not hurting anything (though I suppose it’s also an expensive habit).

As for me, I feel like an inanimate outlet for anger (like, say, a force of nature), while seemingly childish, is basically harmless. As long as I know what I’m really angry about.

I suppose it’s the adult version of a temper tantrum.

It also proves I’m human. (In case there was any doubt.)

Just a number

I recently celebrated another birthday, and it gave me a chance to reflect on the way that we tend to assign certain meaning to milestone birthdays, or to have internalized judgments about who we should be, or what we should be doing, at a certain age or stage in life.

Age is just a number. And yes, 50 is different from 20. But is one better than the other? Not really. There are pleasures to be enjoyed at each stage in life.

We often fall victim to our preconceptions about what a certain number means, since there’s really no hard and fast way of determining of what it means to be a particular age. I’ve known people in their seventies and eighties who were vibrant and active, while I’ve known people much younger who were completely mired in the idea that “it’s all downhill from here…”

It’s only downhill if you think it is.

And since you’re the one writing the story, you can create the landscape any way you like.

The Love We Deserve

“We accept the love we think we deserve.” – Stephen Chbosky

As I look through my last few posts, I notice a theme: books and movies. Welcome to winter in northern Indiana. Last weekend I watched a movie I’m still thinking about: The Perks of Being a Wallflower. When I rented it, I thought it would be just your typical coming of age teen movie. A little funny, a little raunchy, and good for about 90 minutes of entertainment. What a wonderful surprise that it turned out to be so much more.

The quote above features prominently in the movie (and I presume also the book, though I reluctantly admit I haven’t read the book. Yes, my former English teachers are no doubt gravely disappointed. Watching the movie before you read the book is a cardinal sin.)

We accept the love we think we deserve.

In the context of the movie, it’s about struggling to understand why people we care about choose romantic partners who don’t give them the love that we think they deserve.

Sometimes it can be hard to accept that other people are going to make their own choices when it comes to setting the standards of behavior for those close to them. It’s especially hard when it’s someone we care about.

They accept the love they think they deserve. Not the love we think they deserve.

Relatively speaking, though, it’s easy to look outside of ourselves and see the ways in which other people are not living up to their potential. But it’s a little harder to turn that lens on ourselves. To ask tough questions, and not merely about romantic relationships. “How is my own limited perspective keeping me from getting the _____ that people who want the best for me think that I deserve?”

When we step outside of the box in our own thinking, imagining ourselves as an observer in our own lives, the things we learn may come as a surprise to us.


I just finished watching Season 1 of HBO’s Enlightened, starring Laura Dern and recently released on DVD. It’s an ambitious show that attempts to tackle the complexities of the inner landscape, and what happens when we are in the process of re-shaping core beliefs.

The main character, Amy, has just returned from a stay at a treatment facility following an emotional breakdown in the workplace. At Open Air she learned a variety of meditation and positive thinking techniques which were presented as coping strategies for life’s difficulties. Now thrust back into the real world, with a smattering of new age thinking, she faces the challenge of navigating her “new” life.

For starters, she’s been demoted. And she’s not especially well-liked at work. She also lives under the same roof as her mother. She has a complicated relationship with her ex-husband. Further, with her effusiveness and new age-isms she quickly alienates quite a few people.

To me, the most interesting aspect of this show is the portrayal of someone starting on a spiritual journey. Amy has all of the intensity and excitement of a new practitioner. She wants to share her newfound knowledge with everyone she meets. The trouble is, not everyone is interested. But Amy’s not self-aware enough to see that she’s offending people.

Moreover, she has trouble staying in the mindset because her core beliefs haven’t yet changed. She is in the stage of “talking the talk.” She has this veneer of kindness and acceptance covering up a lot of anger and resentment; she hasn’t quite gotten the hang of letting go. She’s also in the process of learning that it’s not always possible to “follow your heart,” especially since most of the non-profit jobs she applies for don’t pay a living wage.

While I do wonder if the show will appeal to a wider audience, I applaud HBO for attempting to deal with such subtleties, as the screen doesn’t lend itself well to complex relationships and inner dialogue. Those interested in the process of spiritual awakening will likely find the show both heartbreaking and entertaining.

Deliver us from Evil, Part II

Read Part I of this entry.

Wright’s book included a substantial discussion of forgiveness, and he made several interesting points. I’ve noted that there’s a lot of confusion surrounding the concept of forgiveness, and that it’s often mis-understood, first and foremost, because forgiving is often equated with forgetting: “Forgive and forget.” But they are not the same thing.

Second, it’s simplistic to think about forgiving someone as “letting them off the hook,” or to see forgiveness as something that only benefits the alleged perpetrator. And, Wright further points out that forgiveness does not equate to tolerance, inclusivity, or indifference. “Forgiveness doesn’t mean that we don’t take evil seriously after all; it means that we do.”

Wright favors the concept of “restorative justice”. A bringing together of the offender and the victim, their families and friends, and the larger community, to determine a way forward. Forgiveness is, at its core, is about freeing both parties. Forgiveness “releases not only the person who is being forgiven but the person who is doing the forgiving.” Moreover, “forgiveness can mean not only that I release you from the threat of my anger and its consequences, but also that I avoid having the rest of my life consumed with anger, bitterness and resentment.”

Forgiveness, while it’s not about forgetting what happened, is a striving to act as if it didn’t happen. It is a way of repairing the relationship.

As an extension of this idea, Wright says that forgiveness is not about clearing an “emotional overdraft.” He adds, “If you try to love someone simply in order to be loved in return, what you are offering isn’t love, and what you get back won’t be love either.”

And finally, he points out that love is not a feeling, as so many of us mistakenly believe. It’s a choice, a call to action. “What ‘love’ means first and foremost is taking thought for someone, taking care of them, looking ahead in advance for their needs, in the way that you would take careful thought about, and plan wisely for, your own life.”

I think what Wright is trying to point out is that love and forgiveness are linked. Perhaps it is because in making the choice to love, we open our hearts and thus pave the way for forgiveness.

Easier said than done. But well worth the effort.

Deliver us from Evil

I just finished reading Evil and the Justice of God by N.T. Wright. It was both more and less than I expected. While a relatively short book (less than 200 pages) surely cannot hope to tackle the topic of evil in its entirety, it did present some ideas and definitions which I think merit further discussion and reflection.

Wright’s basic point about evil is that many of us no longer believe in evil at all. If we do, it often exists as this vague, nebulous force that we pretty much ignore until it shows up right in front of us – at which point, we are surprised, and then react in a ways that are immature and dangerous; thus Wright cautions us against what he calls “unthinking moralism.”

While it’s easy to think of evil in the manner of a personified, cartoonishly distorted force operating in opposition to goodness, Wright’s basic definition of evil invites us to think about it differently, and with less of a dualistic mindset. It is, rather, the absence of something, a rung missing halfway down the ladder in the dark. “Evil is the moral and spiritual equivalent of a black hole.”

I wonder then if the absence of a working conscience, or a strong inner compass qualifies as evil under this definition. Perhaps then selfishness (selfish thinking and acting), as a manifestation of the lack of love, also qualifies.

It has long been my assertion that there’s very little malevolent evil in the world. But that most evil is the result of people’s inner confusion and lack of clarity about their own values and thoughtless action as the extension of it. Perhaps this is just another way of saying something very similar to what N.T. Wright has said, in terms of the definition of evil. The challenge, then, may be to know ourselves, to act on what we know, and further, to do so while maintaining an awareness of how our actions impact others.

More on this topic in part II.

On Letting Go, Part III

How do we know when to let go, and when to hold on?

Sometimes when presented with a challenging person or situation in our lives, it can be difficult to determine what constitutes right action.

If what we’re facing is unlike anything we’ve experienced before, can we evaluate it on the merits of our previous experiences? If we do so, we run the risk of devaluing it, or of evaluating it based on a set of outdated criteria.

When something, or someone, so different from our previous experiences comes into our lives, it’s an opportunity for learning about our ingrained beliefs, habits, and patterns. And an opportunity to reflect upon whether or not these are serving us. Sometimes they are, and other times they are not.

That’s the funny thing about identity. We construct it over time, and we can deconstruct it as well. But if we throw out everything we know to be true every time someone comes along with a new idea, we run the risk of losing ourselves entirely.

On the other hand, if we are so concerned with building castles within ourselves that we cannot allow anything new to come in, we are closing ourselves off to growing, to experiencing our lives – and ourselves – more fully.

 And the difference is not always easy to discern.

Sometimes (actually more often than not) there are no easy answers. Through remaining in a space of watchful awareness, and cultivating a heart of compassion for everyone involved in a situation, we can ease the discomfort that is often so much a part of being in the midst of not knowing. When the turmoil within us subsides, we may discover a space of calm, quiet, and peace which holds the answers we seek.

Echoes from the Past, Part II

At the end of part I of this entry, I said that really easy things are rarely worth doing anyway. But, let’s take that a step further. Does it then follow that all difficult things are worth doing, just to prove a point? Should I dedicate my life to proving that oil and water can mix?

But seriously. It seems to me that it’s important to discern which difficult things are worth committing our very best to, and which ones go against the grain of who we really are, and what we really want our lives to stand for, lest we become a modern-day Sisyphus.

And beyond that, it’s also worth reflecting on why certain tasks may be difficult. If we are, for example, invited to confront our biggest fears, or called to heal old wounds in the process, we are faced with a great challenge, and an even greater opportunity for growth.

On the other hand, if we are motivated primarily by the desire to prove a point, we might simply have uncovered another variation of triumphantly declaring our own right-ness, with the added bonus of grueling experience.

Right action outwardly is meaningless if it lacks the heart as a foundation. Compassion, both for ourselves and for others, is an integral part of choosing and acting in ways consistent with our true calling. If we let our choices – and our actions- be motivated by love, we may surprise ourselves.