Knowing how to navigate life while feeling overwhelmed is the hardest. Being in the "here and now," in the breath, with the heartbeat and the space between them is enough. This awareness creates a space where I can remember that I am safe and ok right now, and that knowledge keeps me calm and tethered in life's storms. -gws
I choose to approach the world with curiosity instead of cynicism. Open-mindedness leaves room for expansive thinking and more positive-feeling experiences. -gws
So, I just witnessed a random occurrence from my dining room window. Captured by the hazy, early afternoon light, I found myself gazing out of the window not too long after lunch. Everything was as expected for a mid-Spring day until something very odd caught my eye. As I looked out I saw…Jesus. As in Jesus CHRIST. The Messiah. The bearded dude. God Jr. One third of the original pop group, The Holy Trinity. Randomly, at one-thirty in the afternoon, on a Friday, there’s Jesus. He was walking down my street, carrying a slightly smaller than life-sized cross, and headed up the block. He was not walking on the sidewalk. That might have brought a sense of normalcy to the scene. Jesus was walking in the roadway. No people around. No cameras. Just a guy dressed as Jesus on, what I realized, was Good Friday. He was reenacting The Passion as his own show of deep faith. I felt honored to be allowed to witness such a personal act of devotion to faith. -gws
That one time when I realized that I lived several significant chapters of my life in a more compressed amount of time than I remember them. In my mind, these chapters are written in the space of a couple to three years, but in actuality it was only about eighteen months. And realizing this is all the fault of a playlist. I'm from the days of mix tapes and mix CDs. Mixes may now be in the form of digital playlists, but this change doesn't alter the joy of these collections. These gems of curated musical narratives form soundtracks for my life. A really good mix yanks me back to a specific time and place. The music transports me into the heart of nostalgia where my younger selves dance in too bright colors with naive abandon. Melancholy or celebratory, music transports me to a specific time, feeling, event, emotion. It's the time machine of memory connecting my flashbacks to my body as I New Jack Swing, Smurf, Roger Rabbit, Kid 'n Play, or head-bang on a cellular level when the right song plays. Maybe it's remembering a friend's antics on the dance floor, or awkwardly slow dancing with that boy I liked in ninth grade. Playlists can share the feelings I am unable or unwilling to express out loud. The music tells my story through lyrics and orchestration. I can sing along and tell my truth in the middle of others, but only I know my expressions are more than a sing-a-long. I've confessed so much though the filter of a song playing on the radio, more through a well agonized over compilation presented to a crush or a friend. I've crafted playlists to set the tone for car trips and for friends surviving a breakup. Playlists are the gifts that keep on giving. I look forward to being reminded of where I was physically and emotionally when I listen to old playlists. I look forward to creating new ones that speak to my now. I encourage you to shake your groove thang. Remember people are people. The groove is in the heart. It's okay to say bye, bye, bye. Hips don't lie. And don't forget to celebrate because it's the dawning of the age of Aquarius. -gws
Yesterday I saw a friend for the first time in a long time. Although it hadn't been terribly long, a lot of life happened for both of us since I last saw them. We hugged each other fiercely, as if quenching a long neglected thirst. The power of the moment, the energy and emotion that flew across the room and into my unknowingly needful arms was surprisingly welcome. Everything stopped for a few heartbeats as we existed in the silent contentment of a deeply longed for and comforting embrace. They are kindred. Family. Precious to me in ways I have no need to explain. Being with them is like sipping sweet water for my soul. Time together is always precious and seems never long enough. I look forward to the next visit together. -gws
Once upon a time, there was a young woman full of bright hot rage. If she could have burned the world, she would have. The young woman couldn't function in the world in this state so she shoved down the rage. She stuffed it into the darkest, most secure space in her soul. The trouble was that the hot, acid rage ate away at its container. The young woman could feel hints of the corrosion. Sometimes the rage would escape, like a coronal eruption, flaring fierce and hot, leaving the young woman devastated and trying to pick up the pieces left behind in the aftermath. One day, the woman wasn't quite young anymore. The wound that housed the rage showed in her eyes in the mirror. It slipped from her lips as resentments. It cramped her hands into fists in her sleep. It tasted bitter in her mouth, and started fragmenting her damaged soul. One day, she grabbed her keys and just started walking. She walked with tears in her eyes and sobs in her chest until she found herself in an open space. In that open space, she laid down on her back, looked to the sky, and she screamed. She raged and wailed at the sky, emptying herself of all the bitterness that had filled her up and overflowed the hollow space in her soul. She let all of it go. She gave it to her god with desperation, and prayed to know how to heal. Her higher power led her to others who knew her pain. Those people welcomed her without judgement, and offered her twelve small steps that lead her to a new experience: serenity. -gws
I took a walk under warm October skies. Friday night lights lit my way as the marching band at the local high school played Motown on the nearby football field. As I walked down the street, I passed a young woman in a relaxed phone conversation on her front porch. She was joyously telling the person on the other end of the phone that she had just realized that she was excited to get married, and I smiled at her to show my joy at her joy. She smiled back in acknowledgement. But as I made my way toward home, my smile quickly faded as I realized that I never got to experience that feeling she was describing. I never got to be excited about getting married. Every time I started to get excited a shadow would eclipse my sun. Another discovery. Another confrontation. Another meltdown. Another confession. Another betrayal. Another, "I'm sorry." Another. Another. Another... Stolen joy. Disappointment. Hurt. Reassessment. Promise. Betrayal. Apology... I envied that woman's excitement. More, I wished her great love and lasting happiness. I knew neither. I watched red contrails crisscross the orange-glow, autumn sunset sky, and wondered if it could have been different. I wondered if it should have been different. I wondered if it should be different. I returned home to my reality, and as I stepped back into my rut-worn role in my desaturated, carbon copy world, I hoped tomorrow might be different despite knowing that would likely never be. -gws
Accepting powerlessness does not equate to resignation. Accepting my powerlessness over people, places, and things is working to accept the things I cannot change or control in a way which invites serenity and hope for a different way of existing. Resignation is acceptance of what is undesirable, but inevitable. Resignation implies resentment and judgment are involved; a sense of, "I have no choice." Accepting my powerlessness is very much a choice, and an impowered one I'm compelled to make every time I recognize I'm in a situation where I cannot control the details or the outcome. By accepting my powerlessness, I am making two choices: to care for my own sanity, and to live with hope. In accepting my powerlessness, I can release my self-inflicted codependent chains which weigh me down and add to my suffering. By freeing myself from the compulsive desire to influence the outcome of situations that are not mine to own, manage or fix, I can start to regain a sense of peace and calm. I can only be responsible for me and my reactions. I cannot take on the responsibility of others, their behavior, or their reactions. Embracing that truth brings a great sense of freedom. Letting go and letting God, in whatever form I envision God, returns me to myself. I'm not trying to herd cats or conduct the orchestra while rewriting the score to "make it better." That's not my job. That's not my responsibility. I cannot prevent or protect others from the consequences of their own choices. I cannot be someone else's higher power, nor do I wish to be. I strive to stay where my feet are, to check in with myself, and to do my best to only manage me. The rest I have to put into the hands of the higher power of my own imagining, and trust that Power will use my love and faith to bring into being what is in my best interest. I also trust that other people's higher powers will do the same for them. -gws
One morning I needed to go buy some cereal. As I left my house, I prayed out loud saying, "Things are tough right now, and I have much fear. I know I am supposed to trust in you, but I am feeling doubt that i am surrendering to your will, and having difficulty trusting that you will catch me when I fall despite experiencing over and over that you always take care of me. Please. I need a sign that you'll see me through this challenge." I prayed this walking from my front door to my car. As I got into the car, I had tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat as I finished up this prayer. I closed the car door, and with a small sob, I looked up to witness the most gentle of Divine communication. Hovering just on the other side of the driver's side window was a hummingbird who was staring right at me. My sob instantly became a laugh as I recognized my higher power appearing before me. I know my higher power was saying, "I've got you. You will be okay." As soon as my soul recognized this tiny being as a messenger from Spirit, the sweet bird flew off, and a bit of weight lifted from my heart. The next day began with conflict and chaos. It felt particularly bad since I was already in such a fragile emotional state. However, that little life's message of, "Just hold on. You'll be ok," blossomed into reality that afternoon as I received a phone call saying that a new position was about to be created, and the manager had only one person in mind to fill it: me. Wow! There's no guarantee that this opportunity will "fix" my problems and challenges, but I am confident that it can only help. There's a lot of space between now and if I get the position, but I am grateful to be reminded that my faith and trust in my higher power is both real and powerful medicine. -gws
Go deep. Find the still waters and listen to the rhythm of breath and heartbeat. Sit in the uncomfortable silence with yourself. Repeat until the discomfort is gone. -gws As an affirmation: I will go deep. I will find the still waters and listen to the rhythm of my breath and my heartbeat. I will sit in the uncomfortable silence with myself. I will repeat until the discomfort is gone. -gws
Words Wishes and Wisdom 