Re-Imagine the Stage

The great bard, William Shakespeare, once wrote, "All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players: they have their exits and their entrances..." These words suggest that we live in a world where the "script" and the "actors" in our lives are malleable. Through the use of imagination this turns out to be the case.  

Walking into a government facility can be intimidating. First there's security to pass through. Pockets are emptied, purses overturned, and guards watch you as though you're on the FBI most wanted list.  Once you're through that obstacle, then you're confronted by overworked, underpaid, clerks who would rather be anywhere else than waiting on you.  When you finally get to the front of the line and your name is called by the clerk, the belligerence is palpable.  They know the rules.  They know what forms are required.  And answering your questions is akin to pulling teeth. 

Such was the situation on a recent visit to city hall.  The clerk was not happy. Her answers were short, curt and at times antagonistic. She was going to make life as difficult as possible for everyone she encountered that day.  A typical reaction reaction would be to respond in kind or to defuse the situation by being overly polite and smiling.  With this clerk, it didn't matter.  Her face remained passive with a touch of arrogance.  When she dismissed us by saying "fill out the forms on the computer at the kiosk" which was conveniently far across the room from her, we knew any questions we had would not be answered without getting back into line.  So we
headed to the kiosk to begin filling out the forms she required.

Half-way through page one we could hear her angry comments in the background.  As if on cue, years of spiritual training kicked in.  We could change the atmosphere in the room as well as change the situation through the power of imagination.  "We know what to do, so let's do this" we said to each other.  "Let's change the stage and the situation."

We imagined the clerk in a peaceful bubble of pink light.  We imagined her happy at home and at work. We imagined all her worries and anger dissolving.  We imagined her with the word LOVE prominently written across her chest.  We saw radiant pink light pouring from her as she greeted every new person who came to her window. We saw the mask of anger on her face dissipating and it being replaced with a smiling face.  Then we continued filling out the forms.

We returned to the line to complete the paperwork. As we moved up to the front of the line
the clerk suddenly got up, closed her cubicle, and left the room.  We looked at each other wondering what had just happened.  Then, another window opened.  A beautiful, smiling, face greeted us. The new clerk now waiting on us, said, "Ladies, good morning.  You've come to the right window. I'm here to make your experience at City Hall perfect."  The contrast between the first clerk and the second could not have been more pronounced.  One actor exited and another had appeared on our little stage. 

Then we realized what we'd done and what had just happened.  Our training had worked a magical transformation.  We had Re-Imagined the atmosphere around the clerks on the Stage of City Hall. We had rewritten the script. What we created with our imagination had been delivered by the second clerk. She was smiling. She was happy.  She was pleasant. She loved her job. And she told us that since she was child, she always knew she had a special purpose in life. Eight years ago she discovered that purpose was to serve everyone with respect and LOVE.  

So the next time you're presented with a situation that is less than desirable, re-imagine it.  Re-write your script with the power of your mind. Perhaps the Bard was right, "All the world is a stage..." Be the playwright and the director of a life worth living.
++++++++ 

 

                                                                                                 Jo Mooy - March 2016   

HOW DOES YOUR GARDEN GROW

How Does Your Garden Grow?

 

The labyrinth was in a state of disrepair. Tall weeds were growing over mounds of dirt, and several outer rings were submerged by frequent downpours. When she arrived at Unity, Mary Badeau felt deep sadness at the condition it was in. She said it was the same feeling one gets when seeing a hurt or abandoned animal. She had to do something.

She was neither disheartened nor discouraged. Instead, she rallied to the task, intent on bringing the labyrinth back to its full potential. For forty days she did what she called "an intervention." She began the physical work of raising the rings above the water level, carting hundreds of bags of soil to the rings. When needing a rest, she read volumes about Labyrinths.

On the twenty-first day, her friend Susanne arrived to help. These two women, seniors in body but youngsters in heart, worked together for nine months. After the mounds were built up, they placed borders around the rings to keep the soil and mulch in place. Then they added small succulent plants and native species at the edges of the walking area, marking the course. But the real impact of the Labyrinth was the personal tokens. Crystals, small ceramic or stone animals, candles, chimes, fairies, Buddhas and plaques interspersed the plants. They dotted every section of the trail because visitors were encouraged to bring a plant or crystal to commemorate their walk.

I've walked dozens of labyrinths at sacred sites all over the world, but this one at Unity of Venice was in a realm by itself. It was organic. It was sentient. It was personal. It was mindful. Each item one passed told a story or unearthed a related memory as walkers made their way to the center. As I walked the rings, the nursery rhyme, Mary, Mary, quite contrary how does your garden grow, flitted across my mind. I had to learn more about Mary.

Mary's labyrinth is a story of love. It's the love she and Susanne had for nature that was both spiritual and inspirational. Mary told me "It wasn't until I went into the garden that I gave birth to myself. I asked the question, 'Who am I?" and the transcendent spoke silently through the garden." She and Susanne arrived early each morning to begin their work. The birds would be singing in the branches of the great oak grandmother trees that surrounded the labyrinth. Each of the magnificent oaks revealed a name to them.

The design, she said, was intuitive. "We both love color and texture and we would surprise each other with trays of flowers and plants. We followed the chakra colors. Row 1 was red, Row 2 orange, Row 3 yellow. It was a challenge because some plants like sun and some like shade. Some like to be dry and some like wet. Theylet us know fast if they were unhappy."

When I asked her why she and Susanne did it, she replied, "For the sheer joy of it. Even the hard physical work was wonderful. Going to the labyrinth every morning was like running to a lover, delighting that it was still there. But best of all was being in the silence of living, growing things." She continued, "The labyrinth is a silent teacher. Without words or books it allows me to engage in the mystery of being for the sake of being and creating. I know what harmonic balance feels like. I can see how it works. The labyrinth inspires dancing. Sacred encounters. Expressions of joy. Exploring. Picnics. Conversations on the benches. Birthday parties. Children running and playing in it. It brings joy."

The labyrinth is a metaphor for the journey of life. The many rings meander around a path, asking us to simply walk forward in mindfulness. The journey of Susanne's life was that. But sadly, it was soon cut short. On the day the labyrinth was dedicated in a Summer Solstice ceremony, she felt "something was not right." Within three months she learned she had ALS and within a year transitioned. Amemorial stone with Susanne's name is a daily reminder to Mary of her friend

The labyrinth is an ancient archetype symbolically conjuring up the path to the center of inner stillness. Mary's devotion to gardens, to nature, and to all living things is a metaphor for love. For what is love but service to others. In creating and now maintaining this labyrinth her nature is joyfully expressed without fanfare. Mary, now known as the Keeper of the Labyrinth, is quick to remind everyone that Susanne was an integral part of its creation. Even though she's gone, Mary knows she's continually working on it from the other side. In Mary's expression of loving service we experience their peaceful blessings with every mindful step we take on this memorable labyrinth.  

 Jo Mooy - July 2015 

What's Love - Feb. 2015

“I love you so much, Moo Moo” he said, putting his arms around me and resting his head on top of mine. He was 15 years old when he said that - an age when most teenagers hardly utter a civil word to members of their family, much less express such a heart-felt emotion to a visiting grandmother. It was so unexpected I couldn't respond. So I just hugged him back, content in this moment of enjoying a grandson's surprise expression of love.

No longer interested in the video games they'd been playing for hours downstairs, he and his younger brother sat with me as others cleared the table from Thanksgiving dinner. They asked me questions about my childhood and where I'd grown up, laughing at some of the stories. I remembered for them each of their births, recalling how I'd raced two and a half hours across several states to see them when they were but hours old. It was no struggle to remember the dark haired infant that was now six feet tall standing next to me.

When just the three of us were alone, he asked me a question that revealed not just how much he'd grown but also portrayed the depth and maturity of who he was becoming. He asked me, “Moo Moo, is there anything that I did that you would not forgive me for?” I just looked at him, stunned by the question. I was not yet ready to answer him. My mind raced in countless directions, wondering why he asked that question of all questions. He returned my gaze quite easily so I asked him let me think about that a moment. He continued to stand there patiently waiting for my answer. His younger brother slid over to a chair closer to us, also intent on my answer. Because both brothers were very close I knew whatever I said would be later dissected and discussed in private.

After a moment of silent centering and an invocation for guidance, I told him that love and forgiveness were interchangeable pieces of the same emotion. I told him that I would always love him and his brother. That they might do things in life that could hurt many people, some of which might be judged unforgivable, but love would always be constant. “Like what?” he asked. Realizing I was letting a “teaching moment” get away, I took the plunge.

Here's a short list of some things that could badly hurt you along with the most important people in your life. These things damage your character or your body and would be hard to forgive because you have control over them. They moved closer. I held up my closed hand, listing each of four things with an outstretched finger. “Doing drugs. Misusing alcohol. Intentionally hurting others. Not sticking up for the underdog.” In unison they both said “We don't do drugs.” With one item cleared off the list I knew they'd be thinking about the other three for a while.

Both of them were quiet for a few minutes. Then the oldest one again put his arms around me and said, “So you would always love me?” Yes said I, but remember, the older you get, the longer the list gets. They hugged me and headed off to the next round of video games while I sat by the fire thinking about “What's Love?”

I went through a litany of things that I know Love is. Love is a chemical reaction. Love is compassion. Love is emotional commitment. Love is a magnetic binding. Love is service. Love is kindness. Love is a spiritual experience. Love is God. But on that Thanksgiving afternoon, Love was my 15 year old grandson wrapping me in his arms and telling me he loved me and asking about forgiveness.

What's Love Got To Do With It

What's Love Got To Do With It?

It was 1984 when Tina Turner first asked that question in a song. The question hascolored the world that I see ever since I first heard it and it's become a pseudo-mantra in raising my own consciousness. When confronting any challenge, life change, large or minor life situation, the mantraWhat's Love Got To Do With It? puts a spin on the event that begs for more careful examination of what's being observed.

While the song highlights the physical, emotional and mental experiences associated with love, other aspects of love are alluded to. For, as the lyrics proclaim, "it means more than that."

Philosophers, scientists, chemists, biologists and mystics all interpret love from the lens of their focus. They say: Love is a chemical reaction in the brain; love is an emotional sensation; love is a religious experience; love is a magnetic energy field; love is God. From each perspective they're all correct. But sometimes, love can't be defined in scientific or metaphysical terms. In fact, when we see the effect it can have on humans or animals those definitions are useless. What's love got to do with those definitions? A whole lot more!

 

Worldwide, there are countless stories of compassionate caring and loyalty between species and within the same species. Recently, an internet video with over two million hits, showed a remarkable dog in Chile pulling its injured "friend" out of the way of four lanes of oncoming cars after the friend had been hit on the highway. After the tsunami in Japan, a Springer Spaniel stayed by the side of its injured companion for days, refusing to leave it even when rescuers arrived. Soldiers who have been away for years in Iraq or Afghanistan return home to find their loyal hounds overjoyed in welcoming them back. One video with over ten million hits shows a soldier arriving home from Kandahar, his duffel bags on the grass, as Gracie his Golden Retriever hears his voice, rushes from the house, circles around him and slobbers kisses all over him until the film runs out. What's love got to do with that?Everything! But love still "means more than that."

Love is a quality that's beyond the physical, emotional or mental ideas. Love is an ideal. It's a force in life that creates an energetic bond between beings. This force binds us together through loyalty, love, memory and friendship in a common compact. It causes us to risk our lives to save a stranger by rushing into burning buildings, forging raging rivers or standing in front of a shooter. This love which is selfless and unconditional, is the perfection of what we can become.

On this second month of 2012, we celebrate Valentine's Day, a day dedicated to Love. Future generations may look back and ask what really happened in 2012. They may find that Love had everything to do with 2012. In the new world dawning perhaps every day will be a day dedicated to Love. What a legacy to leave the earth. 

Jo Mooy - February 2012  

REMEMBER MIKE!

Remember Mike!

"No no, I can't accept that.  It's too much. I can't let you do that!"  One of the women had just given the other a most meaningful gift of true friendship.  But the receiver would not allow herself to accept the generosity of her friend.  I watched the interchange as the protests continued from one to the other.   Seeing the impasse I stepped between them and offered this story to both of them.

After a year of searching, I found a kitchen cabinet island that perfectly matched the granite kitchen countertops.  The online order was so heavy it had to be shipped to the local UPS store.  I called Mike, the owner of the store and told him to be on the lookout for it and to warn him that it weighed over 250 pounds.  I also learned that the island cabinet had to be assembled so I asked Mike if he knew a handyman that could assemble it for me.  He didn't know of anyone so I figured I'd have to find one after the rolling cabinet was delivered.

About two weeks later there was a knock at the front door.  When I opened the door there was UPS Mike with the heavy shipment.  It wasn't in a shipping box.  The cabinet had been assembled.  Mike had rolled it up the driveway and wanted to place it in the kitchen for us.  I was flabbergasted with what he'd done.  Not only had he assembled it on his own time, but he had personally delivered it in his pickup truck. 

I offered to pay Mike for his labor and effort but he refused.  I insisted.  He still refused, saying it was his way of helping his customers.  Realizing he would not take any money, I went to a local restaurant and bought a gift card of dinner for two.  Very proudly I went to the UPS store and gave it to Mike.  He looked at the card, looked at me, and wistfully asked "Why did you do that?"  I said I wanted to show my appreciation.  Mike said, "But in doing that you just diminished my gift to you."  I felt about 6 inches tall.

When I told my friend that story, she got tears in her eyes and said she had never thought of a gift in that way before.  I assured her neither had I.  But I always remembered what Mike had done and more importantly what he'd said about diminishing his gift.  You see, Mike gave me much more than an assembled kitchen cabinet.  He taught me the true meaning of gift-giving and gift-receiving.  He taught me that it was okay to receive without one-upmanship.  He taught me that the gift of the heart cannot be genuinely given unless there's a receiver willing to accept and allow the gift.   

The three of us had an emotional hug as we digested the story of Mike.  When you're next tempted to refuse or overcompensate for a gift someone has done for you, Remember Mike! 

Jo - March 2011