Soul Divers Blog

Another African ah-hah moment occured our last day in Rwanda.  One of our Ugandan drivers came to my lodge room to collect my duffle bag.  As he turned to walk out of the room with it, he saw a stack of clothes and some sneakers.  What about those? I told him I was leaving them for the woman who made up my room, figuring she would know who could use them.  Please, he begged.  Let me have them.

It was the look on his face I will never forget.  There was a vivid desperation that I had not realized he experienced, too.  Given his job, I’d assumed he was in one of the more enviable positions.  Even so, it was clear the money he made was not enough.  Even now, recalling that moment, fills my heart with all kinds of emotion.  Of course, I told him.  Please take them.

I’ve been teaching Gates that when we “assume” we make an “ass” out of “u” and “me”.  Clearly it’s a lesson I’m still learning.  It may be worth taking a minute and asking yourself: Who in your “circle”  might you be making an assumption about?  Do your friends know how much you love them?    Is the checkout girl at the market having a good day just because you are?  Think that guy who cut you off in traffic did so simply because he’s an idiot?

You could be right, but it’s a pretty big assumption, isn’t it?

Returning from my extraordinary African trip (spent in Kenya and Rwanda), I am reflecting on some of the deeper teachings I was blessed to witness.  While in the Masai Mara, my fellow travelers and I viewed a river “crossing” made by wildebeest and zebra.  It’s a challenging time because there are crocodiles lurking around in the water and crossing literally risks one’s life.

We observed as a large group of wildebeest gathered along the river bank.  There was a lot of jostling and restless movement.  One wildebeest would start and then jump back, skittish.  Finally, seemingly out of nowhere, a baby wildebeest came bounding across the water leading what was to become a crossing of literally hundreds of wildebeest and zebra.

The words from Isaiah echoed in this moment “… and a little child will lead them.”

At the risk of sounding cliche, I have to say that, not only are children our future, they are our teachers.  They inhabit the present moment in a way that few adults are able.  They radiate lightness of being and unrestrained joy.  They are extremely honest and refreshingly unselfconscious.  They “do” for the sheer delight not for any quantifiable “gain”.  Endearingly so, they do not make sense.  I just adore them.  I sit in their church, the church of truth, joy, bubbles, and freedom.

That little wildebeest leapt straight into my heart, reminding me of what I am capable of if I’d just stop banging around the edge of what I need and want to experience.  “Going for it” is, in the end, the only way.  A child taught me that.  May I be wise enough to listen.

A couple months ago on NPR, there was an interview with an appellate lawyer, David Dow, who represents prisoners on Death Row.  At one point, Mr. Dow described a concept in death penalty juris prudence, referring to a person being “innocent of the sentence”.  This is different then being “innocent of the crime”, which in most cases, Mr. Dow’s clients are not.  What Mr. Dow explains is how a person can be guilty of a crime like murder and be innocent of their death sentence. It’s a fascinating interview, and it really got me thinking.  How many of us bear the burden of a “life sentence” from which, in fact, we are innocent?  Yes, we’ve all screwed up at some point,  but does that mean we are beyond redemption?  Do we deserve a life sentence?  A death sentence?  How liberating would it be to realize that we are not our mistakes.  There is much more to us than some past definition: Perfectionist. Liar.  Addict. Bad Mother. Gossip. Narc. Look deeply.  Go ahead.  Face what you fear.  Look into the mirror.  DO NOT LOOK AWAY.  Keep breathing.  Slow and steady.  Let the tears come.  Keep looking beyond the surface.  Get over the wrinkles, blemishes, and gray.  See them for the teachers they really are.  Breathe and gaze through the layers, back to the light.  A wildly beautiful child is there holding hands with the One older than time.  Welcome home. I invite us all to find one thing we may be feeling guilty about having done or not done (said, or not said).  Now let’s ask ourselves how feeling guilty serves us?  For me, guilt grips with a choke hold.  I can’t breathe.  Now, instead of continuing to punish myself with unloving thoughts, I’m going to learn from the “mistake”.  I’m going to breathe in the gift my perceived error brought.  (Had I not lost my temper, I would not have been given the chance to ask forgiveness and experience its grace, as bestowed by my son’s tender “That’s okay, Mommy, I’m sorry too”, for example.) I’m choosing to learn and grow, not suffer and lament.  Like Rumi urged, I am surrendering who I am for who I could become.  That feels even better than innocence.  That, friends, feels downright miraculous. Life is too damn good to be lived in chains.  Be free.  You got the power.

A friend and I were writing each other about falling in love.  Here’s what I offered: here’s the thing, when we fall in love we fall hard.  it’s big and beautiful and we see things like great grandkids.  every moment is full of symbols and fireworks from the divine.  it’s alive and electric and we crave it like water. it makes for great storytelling and imbues life with a deep meaning and kickass joy. so here’s the thing: the trick is to find that within first. i know it’s not sexy (though it can be - hello!) but first fall in love with yourself and life. get really clear within about what makes you so special, beautiful, talented, wise, kind, creative, and powerful. an amazing spiritual teacher once said, “Who you are seeking is who is seeking”. just sit with that, breathe it in and watch your whole world change.

In response to my last post, a friend emailed and asked, “We resist change?  Isn’t that just being cautious and sometimes responsible?”  Here’s what I emailed back.  (He told me “cut and paste.”  So I did.) Excellent question. Resisting change is simply arguing with reality. It’s our insistence that something that happened shouldn’t have.  As long as we fixate on our belief that it shouldn’t have happened, we remain stuck in the past.  Focused there.  We become unwilling or afraid to change in the way deep inside we know we are being called to. Change is dependable.  We can rely on it. The Buddhists remind us that Nothing is permanent. The ground beneath our feet is always shifting. The question is can we become relaxed and peaceful in the presence of continual change? We can’t hold water and yet that’s exactly what so many of us try to do. We want an absolute.  Something we can trust. Something solid.  In my experience, that can only be ourselves.  With practice, we can return to our true self, our deepest and most authentic self. We can live out of that space and know that no matter what unfolds in our story, we’ll respond to it from a place of indestructible vulnerability and love. That’s the rock that makes us all whole.