Love is the Answer

"Love never fails." ~ 1 Corinthians 13

It's time to revisit 1 Corinthians 13, the Love Chapter.  Why?  Because Love is the Answer.  What 1 Corinthians 13 has to say tells us everything we need to know about what we need to be focusing on right now in the world.  It doesn't matter what your spiritual background may be - 1 Corinthians 13 has something important to say to you.  Love never fails.

Saturday at 1 PM PDT/4 PM EDT, listen live to 1 Corinthians 13: Love is the Answer on The Frontier Beyond Fear broadcast, or to the podcast afterwards at the same link.

 Heart on Trail photo by Susan Larison Danz.

Trust, Revisited

“Never be afraid to trust an unknown future to a known God.” ~ Corrie ten Boom

Trust, when placed in Something that can Actually be Trusted, makes all the difference.  We lose sight of it, sometimes.  But it never really goes away.  

Faith

"Fear knocked at the door and Faith answered. No one was there." ~ Old English Proverb

Faith is often dismissed and diminished in our world today.  But when you have it, it changes everything.  

 

 

Glimpses of the Spring photo by Susan Larison Danz.

Spiritual Courage

"Courage is knowing what not to fear." ~ Plato

I admit it.  I'm not as brave as I'd like to be.  I'm talking about this thing I seem to have spontaneously labeled "Spiritual Courage".

What is it, exactly?  Can I meaningfully express it?

I could say it has to do with authenticity, and it does, but that's not quite it.  That's not what I'm getting at today.

What I'm getting at could have to do with spiritual experiences, but that's not how I'm using the term.  That is not to say exploring spirituality itself is generally a timid exercise - it's not.  But that's not what I'm talking about today.

We aren't bold enough, in the ways we need to be, and I'm talking about being bold about being a spiritual person.

I had an encounter with a neighbor yesterday, as I was getting my mail, and we were talking about Covid and isolation.  She commented on how (not quite recalling what word she used) "chipper" I am.  Yes, I think she used the word "chipper".  (She could tell, even under my mask.) I told her I'm not that way all of the time, but I do appreciate my simple life.  She spoke of how this isolation can get a person down sometimes.  And then I found a bit of courage, the kind of courage I'm talking about, but not in a "pushy" way.  This isn't about proselytizing - it's more about honesty.  I said that mindfulness really helps me.  First I used that gentle word.  And then I went a step farther and said that I'm a spiritual person, and I think I may have even said that I'm a very spiritual person (Did I really say "very"?), and then I realized afterwards there are about a gazillion ways that could be interpreted, with a gazillion labels.

I wasn't talking about labels.  What I was attempting to express is actually quite simple.  Spirituality is an integral part of my life.  And yet it takes courage to be honest about that, these days.  In some ways, if I look back honestly, it's always been important, or at least my curiosity about it.  But I'm not looking back right now.  I'm talking about Now.  In this moment Now, it's important.  It has made every bit of difference in my day to day life and gives me astonishing peace.  Am I always at peace?  Of course not.  But when I compare the peace of my life now to the more worrisome self I used to be (yes, I still do worry sometimes), it makes a huge difference.

And it's not only that.  We need to be more open about Spirituality.  I used to be able to do it in the discussion forums - I could write reams and reams and reams of Spiritual material in those days - under a pseudonym.  And I suppose I had my radio show (which, oddly, I almost forgot about), but it kind of got afield of what I had intended originally.  It was thought to be one of the best independent spiritual podcasts around, and it's not over yet.  But I found I tended to "agree" too much when I would have preferred a lively discussion.  Not always, but too often.  It was never intended to be an infomercial, yet sometimes it felt that way.

Spiritual courage expresses itself openly.  Perhaps I diminish it by suggesting it is necessarily dogmatic, that there would be anything to "agree" about at all, if we are talking about an experience of peace.  It's not just an experience of peace.  It's an experience of feeling very Loved.  Divine Love is like that.  Omnipresent Love is like that.  People often feel awkward talking about such things.  Heck, I used to call in on national radio and openly express these things.  Do I really feel I'm not courageous?

But I'm talking about this moment.  This moment.  Now.  You see, because people don't understand Spirituality, especially lately.  There is this tendency to suggest it is damaging, or label it as "contrary to science" (which it's not, not real science) or whatever.  It's taking more and more courage these days to speak up and say, boldly, that Spirituality is not a "threatening" concept.  It is absolutely the opposite.  It is more than "mindfulness", though that is how I gingerly stepped into the concept with my neighbor.  I wasn't attempting to convince her or even describe it - I was just stating a fact.  I'm not even sure the term "mindfulness" applies to me.  I do know "mindfulness" experts who could give you many steps.  That wouldn't be me.  

It's a way of life.

It's a way of BEING.

And I feel that it's IMPORTANT.

And you see, there's the courage part, as now I am appearing to say:  Not just for me.  (Of course not, but in this particular case, I'm talking about my own experience - many people have this experience, so let's be clear, I'm not saying they don't.)

We NEED more of it.  Not less.  And that is my concern.  Like it's somehow not "logical" to pursue (and I feel it's actually the opposite), or that it is even harmful (nothing could be farther from the truth).  I see it being boxed up and labeled and diminished and disparaged these days, by so-called "skeptics".  And it isn't quite what people tend to think, not at the center of it.  Oh yes, it can be many, many things, and perhaps I'll get into some of them at some point, but I'm not talking about that.

The Center.  What is it?

You FEEL it.  It HELPS.  We need MORE of this, not less.  That's what I'm saying.

And I suppose by saying it, I'm being just a little bit more courageous.  And I sense that is a very good thing.  If you want to know the truth, it is entirely logical, what this is.  So if you think that it isn't, that's a misunderstanding.  Oh yes, it's mysterious as well, in fact, entirely miraculous.  (Yet what is a "miracle"?)  I feel there will come a time when more and more of us will realize that there is much, much more to this world than meets the eye.  And when we look at it, we are even able to do so analytically.  It is not unintelligent.  It is not ignorant.  It is not denial of reality.  It is not any of these things.  It can even be provable.  If you want to know the truth, I will tell you what it is, whether you believe me, or not, because I've found my courage.  What it is...It is REAL.  To see it is to see.  But a person generally must be willing to look.

 

 

Blue Skies photo by Susan Larison Danz.

Learning to Float

"To have faith is to trust yourself to the water.  When you swim you don't grab hold of the water, because if you do you will sink and drown.  Instead you relax, and float." ~ Alan W. Watts

It took me a very long time to learn how to float.  When I finally figured it out, it was one of my favorite, most relaxing things, though I haven't had much of a chance, lately.

The first time, I was around the age of 6.  I had a best friend when I was 6.  Her name was Maggie.  She lived a short city block away.  I met her around the time I was 4.  In those days, even when I was 5 years old, it was not unusual to walk by myself to her house.  These were different times.  One summer day, I accompanied Maggie's family to a little lake by the mountains.  I recall Maggie's mother telling me that this lake was salty, and this would help me to float.  Maggie's mother set me upon the water on my back on a hot August day (I seem to think it was August).  To my delight, after a couple of tries at relaxing, I was floating!  I recall not knowing how to stop floating, so I just kept floating, happily looking up at the sky.  Maggie's mother was not far away.  Eventually she helped me come out of the float.  The afternoon at the lake went really well.  Trust came to me easily.

The second time, it was a couple of years later.  Maggie had moved away by then and I was with other neighborhood kids.  We were dropped off by a parent at a "swimming and tennis club" nearby.  It was not fancy, just swimming and tennis, and this family belonged to the club, so I was able to be their guest.  The pool was very loud and crowded.  And I can't even quite remember who it was who set me up in a float - but it wasn't a parent or adult.  It worked, and I was floating on my back again.  I can't remember any adults very close, just lots of kids (surely a lifeguard as well, but not very near).  Even so, I was "kind of relaxed" (not like on the lake, which one would think would have been scarier, but it wasn't).  I floated for a short while, and then all of a sudden a splashing boy came wildly by and he intentionally "dunked me" (or so I thought).  It wasn't very deep, but deep enough for my height, and there were too many kids around.  I thought in that instant I might drown.  I didn't know how to get to the surface.  To this day, I don't recall how I did, but I did, coughing and sputtering, and then I somehow got myself out of the pool.  And didn't go in again.

That was the end of my trust in floating.  For years after that, I might get in a pool just to walk in shallow water, but I wouldn't even try to float.  Nor did I want to. 

I was somehow brave enough to be an assistant for the swim team at least part of high school, but I was mostly in the back room typing up results on a manual typewriter, and on carbon copies (where you couldn't make a mistake).  I rarely went close to the water, and nobody knew I couldn't float or swim.  I did become a good typist, however.

The years passed.  I was a young adult in my first job in my 20's, and I had heard of a swimming teacher who could teach anyone.  Sure enough, this teacher was wise - she was patient and nurturing.  She gave me things to hold onto and also kept me steady.  At some point, I was floating again, but she never left my side.

She used to hand me empty milk jugs to hold onto while floating.  They clearly (in retrospect) did no real good whatsoever, and I had enough education at the time to know this.  But this wasn't about "logic".  It was about trusting, and they gave me security.  Well, one day, I was holding on to a single milk jug, and she said to try to let go of it.  And I did.  She wasn't holding onto me or all that near.  I was floating!  It took all that time to learn how to trust the water again, but it was actually trust that led to trust. 

 

 

 

Lake photo by Susan Larison Danz 

Carried...

"I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived." 

~ Henry David Thoreau

I observed the current a long while, the water high, enough to encroach upon the branches of bushes, some attempting to float and others submerged.

And then I noticed a stick that looked to be stuck - yet also adrift, apparently.  It wasn't like the rest.  It wasn't attached to a bush or a tree.  It had become entangled within the branches that were.  And then all of a sudden, it broke free, the current carrying it forward.  It traveled a few feet.  Before it became stuck, again, this time a bit more.

I left it there, eventually, watching long enough to see the current turning it one way, then the other, working its way, as if aware this particular stick had the freedom to roam. 

It wasn't actually adrift.  And it was never actually stuck.  Carried, it was free.

Sunrise

It lasted a moment or two
or a little bit more
And that was plenty
Now unseen, yet seen.

The Window Without a View

"But lo! the morning peeps 

Over the eastern steeps"

~ William Blake

In my house upon a hill, there is a window to a wall. 

But what is it that you glimpse when you approach and truly see?

Make A Wish

"...for to have faith is to have wings..." ~ Peter Pan, J.M Barrie

"Make A Wish"

Just three simple words and perhaps a "...."

I was about to post it on Facebook, a picture at the ready, from my time in the midst of Beauty, a walk long overdue.

And then I read the words.

And then I read them again.

And again.

As if for the very first time.

Make A Wish. 

How does a person truly "Make" a wish? 

It is a participatory process, the Multiverse embedded. 

Some might call it "co-creation"...

The picture.

Storm

Last night I talked about a perfect metaphysical storm, just to watch the tragedy of actual storms unfold today in Oklahoma.  The storms today are reminiscent of another outbreak precisely on this date in 1957, including the infamous F5 Ruskin Heights tornado in Kansas City.

My heart goes out to anyone impacted by a tragedy this severe.  This will be a simple post, no grand philosophies tonight, just thoughts and prayers for all who are suffering on the planet, just faith the Dawn is near.

September 11: Choosing to Forgive

A year ago today, I wrote a spontaneous, heartfelt essay on my personal recollections and reflections on the impact of September 11. The expression of my journey guided me to the following words, worth repeating today. You can read the entire essay here.

"In retrospect, I now realize the tremendous gifts fear gave to me. It was fear that led to my heartfelt prayer to the Creator of the Universe, tearfully begging to be shown "the way", whatever it might be.

And the way was indeed shown, though it took years for me to begin to understand, a journey of progressive understanding that continues on this September 11 too, nine years later.

The way had to do with unconditional Love. The way had to do with unconditional Forgiveness. The way had to do with lasting Peace.

I have not forgotten what happened on September 11, 2001. I have not forgotten on a personal, national or global level. I have not forgotten the many people who died that day. I have not forgotten the many people who died in the days and years that followed, on all sides of the resulting wars, including many innocent children and civilians, in addition to soldiers. But there is a difference between forgetting and letting go.

I am finally finding a way of letting go the fear of those days. And it's been quite some time since I have felt any need for vengeance. Instead I have discovered understanding. Instead I am really beginning to see what true faith, forgiveness and unconditional Love actually ask of all of us.

When you begin to look through eyes of understanding, you realize that the entire event on September 11 (even if you believe in alternative theories on the subject) resulted from centuries of fear and vengeance, something that drove a few misguided people to commit an act they felt was justified by their own convictions.

We can question those convictions of course, but can we even dare to try to understand what might have made them feel this way? Can we even dare to end the silence of tolerance (which need not be silent at all)? Just as we expect the tolerant in other countries to take the lead in educating those in their midst, can we dare to take on the responsibility of educating and enlightening those in our own country plagued by eerily similar fears?

Wars breed more wars. Any student of history can see that this is true. Fear breeds more fear. Vengeance breeds more vengeance. Blame breeds more blame. Anger breeds more anger. Death breeds more death. This is true on both sides of any conflict. And sometimes the cascading domino effects of war go on for centuries. This is what happens when we choose not to forget, when we choose not to let go, when we choose not to understand, when we choose not to forgive, when we choose not to Love.

We have a choice. We can indeed choose to Love. We can indeed choose to Trust. We can indeed choose to Understand. We can indeed choose to Forgive. We can indeed choose to place our Faith in the Love that binds us all together on this Earth.

That is where I place my Faith tonight. I have released the angst of September 11, and I no longer believe reacting in fear has anything to do with Faith or Love. I have not watched a single news report today. I honor those who died, just as I honor those who died on every horrendous day, days that continue in some parts of the world, impacting people of many nations, not just ours.

I'm going to dinner in a while. I choose to visit a small family-owned restaurant run by a Moslem married to a Christian (not sure if she converted, either way is fine with me). I happen to know that these people have personally felt an impact from the fear and unreasonable bias that still have a strangle-hold on some who claim to be all about forgiveness, but are actually more interested in judgment, vengeance and a a skewed nationalistic furor instead (something that has led to more wars and death than can be fathomed). I look forward to a nice meal of spicy lamb tajine, a favorite of mine.

I invite you all to dine with us at the table of Universal brotherhood, sisterhood and Unconditional Love.

Understanding breeds more Understanding. Tolerance breeds more Tolerance. Forgiveness breeds more Forgiveness. Love breeds more Love. Joy breeds more Joy. Peace breeds more Peace. Faith breeds more Faith.

I have unwaivering Faith that true Peace on Earth will soon be in our midst."

My son and I dined at that wonderful Moroccan restaurant on Friday, now a favorite of his too. As a parent, I choose to teach tolerance and understanding, not vengeance and fear.

May all of our children learn these lessons well. And yes, I do believe they will one day know Peace, as miraculous as that may seem.

That day is coming soon...for all of us.

~ Susan Larison Danz