Meditation on Kindness

When you are in a crowd, look around at all the different people. Notice their clothes, faces, hair, sizes. Look at their gestures and movements, noticing if they are loose, stiff or free. Just take it in, without judgment, as if you were looking at a garden of people. Then see them all as energy fields, the same as you. Just energy. As you continue watching, think to yourself, “Every person here has had to live every day of their lives, just like me. They have had to get up every day, decide what to wear, face loss, success, hurt, shame, just like me. Everyone fell down while learning to walk, everyone probably felt anxious the first time they kissed, just like me. Each person has a story to tell. Some of the chapters are heroic. Some of them are about loss, some about fear, some about achievement or joy, just like my story”. Then continue to think of them as energy, conceived as an egg and sperm, just like you.

We are a moment in each person’s story, make it a story that doesn’t leave a scar.

Excerpt from "If the Buddha Dated" 

A little soul retrieval in the darnedest places...

I thought I was so ready for the weekend, until it got here. I am thankful for the mornings when I can “sleep in” (I woke up at 7 AM, couldn’t go back to sleep for the life of me!) But then what do I do with the rest of Saturday and Sunday? In the short time that I have been here, I find myself asking that question a lot. What to do, where to go, with whom. The truth is, the idea of doing something alone is lackluster. So I find myself doing mundane things when I'd rather be out exploring. Clean apartment, walk Pickles, eat lunch, rinse and repeat.  The funk needs to end soon.

And I do realize it’s all up to me. What it's going to take to give me an inspirational jolt, I haven't yet discovered.

I spent three days in Oklahoma this past week for a business trip. Having grown up in Texas, I find this kind of “research” to be kind of tedious. Nothing in the way of this lifestyle and mindset has changed much since I wore cowboy boots in the 8^th grade (Yes, I admit it). Although I will say, denim has changed a bit.

These people are good folks. They love their family, they love Jesus, their horses and livestock, they love honesty, integrity, shaking hands, simplicity, home. When I go to these events and wear the required uniform (i.e. Jeans, Boots) I reconnect with that 14-year-old girl I once was, wearing my red Justin boots, Rockies and feeding 'Big Red', the unbroken horse that kicked me, knocked me down, left a bruise on my right butt cheek and my ego hurt for weeks. The familiarity of this life is something that eludes me but at the same time I feel a sense of comfort in it all. Perhaps this is a part of my life that I need to remember. It was an innocent time for me, one of very simple and humble times and a time where the world was a big white canvas just waiting for me to paint whatever future I wanted.  In many ways, a lot of the people I meet remind me how far I have come in my life. The road behind me is very long and foggy.  This experience was a reminder that I have done pretty good thus far and I am comforted. So while I am doing a good service to the company, I am also taking notes of my own personal journey.

Now What?

I have been here in Denver for three months, so now what? That is the question I seem to ask a lot. There is a lot of quiet time to reflect on the last whirlwind year of my life. I am OK with the quiet time, I guess.

Colorado is beautiful.  I sometimes can't believe I live here.  I met my family in Durango for the 4th of July weekend. It was very nice to get away, to drive somewhere. I loved the mountains, Mesa Verde, Durango's historic downtown. I just loved being with everyone again, even in all of their chaos. I realized on the way back to Denver that I am on what seems like two separate journeys.  One of self and the other with matters of the heart and companionship.  It's amazing what a long road trip can do for your soul.

My trip back to Denver began at 4 PM and made it's way well into the night. I didn't arrive home until 11 PM. The road was silent, no radio, no cell phone. Just me and Pickles. I had a lot of time to think. And in some ways, it was a deeper conversation with myself than I usually have. Many things were said and realized in all of that silence.