What have you done to improve the world today?

The question was met by total silence. Max is a child who doesn’t believe in talking if he has nothing to say. But I could almost hear him thinking Is she nuts? I’m 10 years old. What do I know about improving the world?

Clearly he needed some help here, since it was the first time I had asked him this question. (I had gotten tired of asking “What’s new and exciting?” to be met with “Nothin’ much…” and decided to change the question.)

“Did you make your bed?”

“No…”

“Rats! That kills that idea!” Thinking fast I asked, “Did you feed Fluke?” knowing that feeding the dog twice a day was one of his chores.

“Yes!”

“Well, don’t you think that improved his world? To have a nice full food bowl?”

“Yeah. Would you like to speak to Mom?”

Twelve-year-old Dante had similar reactions – hadn’t made his bed, but had done a load of wash for his Nana who can no longer lift heavy things. And then on a later call noted with pride that he had taught his Grampa how to do laundry!

What they didn’t tell me, but their mother did, was that when the parents went out on a “date night” to celebrate their anniversary, leaving the two boys home alone, the parents came home to find that the boys had not only tidied up the house before they went to bed, they had gotten into the decorations – their mother loves decorating for any season and any reason – anyway, although it was September, the boys pulled out the Valentine decorations and festooned the place with hearts and cupids!

So, although doing their chores and helping around the house are their current fall-back positions when I ask, what will their answers be like in 10 or 15 years?

And what about you? What have you done today to improve the world? It doesn’t have to be earth-shaking. No one’s ever going to remember me as a financial or technological wizard like Bill Gates. Or a scientific genius like Pasteur, Flemming, or Salk. Or even a humanitarian like Mother Theresa or Desmond Tutu. But sweeping my front walk, pulling weeds, or planting bright flowers improves the world my neighbors see. Making dinner for family, or cleaning up after someone else made the dinner improves their lives. All these things are world-improving for someone.

If all else fails, my summer fall-back is that I reduced the total amount of hunger in the world when that mosquito bit me! (Now, lest you think I’m getting too sanctimonious, let me hasten to assure you that I also smacked that mosquito, which also improved the world by reducing the number of biting beasties…) So I’m sure you’ll have some wonderful answers the next time someone asks “What did you do to improve the world today?”

Let there be peace on Earth and let it begin with me…

This weekend many people celebrated the life and legacy of Peace Pilgrim, so it is fitting that we look at peace today. Most of us are not called to model peace in as drastic a fashion as Peace Pilgrim did. And most of us think “Peace? With my frantic lifestyle – job, kids and all their activities, house, spouse – and all the horrible news I see in the papers, on TV (and radio), on the Internet, how can I possibly have peace, let alone model it for others?”

Well, I have some pointers for you, but before we get to those, let me tell you a bit about how I came to learn them.

A number of years ago I was in Glastonbury, England. During the time of King Henry VIII, the abbey was sacked and the roof was taken off the church. But the lovely grounds are now a park around the ruins of the abbey. The church walls still stand, but the floor at ground level is gone, so although you can go into the church, you immediately go down to a below-ground level, with the church walls soaring above you.

Because it is no longer consecrated, you could get close to the altar, which in those days was usually kept separate from the congregation by an altar-rail. So I was close to the altar, but off to one side a bit, just standing there, when I got this feeling of power, this knowing – I don’t know how else to put it – that whatever I asked for in that place would be granted, but to be careful what I asked for as there would be no judgment of good or bad attached, it would merely be granted.

At that point in my life, as for most young people, money was an issue, so that was my first thought: I want to be rich! But then the inner dialog took over. What good would money be if I wasn’t healthy enough to enjoy it? So then I thought Well, then, I want to be wonderfully healthy. But, believing in reincarnation, I realized that if in this lifetime I was supposed to have some dreadful disease as part of expiating my karma and I sidestepped it, I’d only have to come back and do it again, which made me realize I want to fulfill my life’s purpose!

At which point I got a totally intangible confirmation Done! Now, relaxed and happy, I continued to wander the abbey grounds and eventually headed back to my hotel. As I walked back to the hotel, I realized that it would be easier to fulfill my life’s purpose if I actually knew what it was. I had done some hypnotherapy where the therapist guided me to my “answer place” based on Native American practices and thought I would go there and ask.

Well! I got totally petrified! If you’ve been brought up in a Christian tradition (and perhaps even Jewish: look at Abraham and Isaac!) you KNOW God can ask you to do some really horrific things! But I calmed myself by deciding that if it were truly horrific, I could still back out and anyway, it would be better to know than not to know. So I went ahead and what I got was that my life’s purpose was to spread peace. Not ban-the-bomb, demonstrate against war, kind of peace, but peace between individuals. Whew! What a relief. But how to do it. I’ve spent the intervening years working on that question and working out some answers.

One thing I learned is that the easiest way to restore your sense of peace is to breathe deeply. There’s a reason why one of the oldest pieces of folk wisdom for when you are tense and angry is to take a deep breath! It works. When you breathe shallowly – as we tend to do when upset – you are activating the fight or flight nerve receptors in your lungs. But, when you breathe deeply, you access the peaceful receptors which are located in the bottom parts of your lungs.

This deep breathing is also contagious! You will find if you are breathing slowly and deeply when others around you are frantic, it will slow them down. Especially if on the out-breath you “breath” peace “at” them. I don’t know how else to describe this. You have to test it out for yourself. The best way to observe the results is to do it when other people are arguing but you are not part of the argument. Doing it around children who are squabbling is particularly good as they are much more open to the “vibrations” around them. I have watched during business meeting when two people are getting heated up about their opposing positions. I breath peace at them for a while and watch them settle back a bit in their seats and slow their animosity. Then I stop and watch them heat up again. It’s wonderful practice to start and stop and observe the results! Have fun with it!

I have also turned off my TV. I don’t listen to or watch or read about “the news.” It’s all about things I cannot fix or change, in places I cannot access. If something major happens, I can be sure that my friends will tell me about it and then I can donate funds or goods or prayers to support the cause, but I myself get the news second-hand and not in constant barrages. So from my place of peace, I can act without stressing myself.

So I wish you a week of peace! And I’d love to hear if these techniques work for you!

The prime requisite of friendship is to share good news as soon as possible!

In that spirit, I’d like to share what happened to me recently. I had a little fender bender in a parking lot. I backed into a car that was stopped but was not in a recognized parking space. It was clearly my fault as I was moving and he was not… There was only a scrape on my bumper, but he had a significant dent.

We exchanged information and seeing as how the other driver looked rather young to me, I asked that he get an estimate and let me know so I could decide whether to put it through my insurance or just pay for it out-right.

He ended up getting two estimates because he thought the first – $1,400 – was high. He emailed me the second which was for $1,000. I talked with my insurance agent to get some idea of what to do and in the process noticed that the owner of the vehicle was not the young man I was dealing with. Now I had a bit of a quandary. What would happen if I sent the check to the young man and then the owner (who was probably his father as they shared the same last name) decided to put it through his insurance. My insurance people recommended that if I was not going to put it through them, I should meet with the owner to give him the check directly and also to have him sign a release of liability stating that he was not going to put it through his insurance.

So I contacted the young man and said I needed to talk with the owner, who then both called and emailed me. We talked and he seemed like a perfectly reasonable person and we agreed that I would send him the check without us needing to meet. So I did.

A week or so later, I got a card-looking envelope in the mail. (When was the last time you got real mail and it wasn’t your birthday or Christmas?) Here is the note I received:

“Dear Ms. ___,

“As discussed, we received your check for $1,000 for the repair of our son’s vehicle. Thank you; however, when.___ was home this past weekend, he asked that we send you back the check. He felt really badly that you would lose that amount of money to fix his car, which is old and has seen better days. As long as it can last until he completes his residency program, he’s good!

“Therefore, enclosed please find your check and know that you are released from any liability or responsibility regarding this matter.

“Sincerely,

___ and ___
Parents of ___”

Is that not truly amazing – and the kind of news you wish you could hear all the time?

This Week I Read

the girl with no name by Marina Chapman.  What an incredible book.  As a child of not quite five, she was abducted from her family yard and left in the jungle, totally alone.  This book is the story of her survival in the jungle for a number of years before finally being found and returned to “civilization.”  I use the word civilization loosely – the locations she ended up in were abusive and degrading.  She was essentially a slave.

The book only tells the first part of the story, until she was perhaps 17.  But the pictures which are included are all from her later life and show a happy wife, mother, and grandmother.  I can’t wait to read the next installment.  Given that this book was published in April of 2012, the next part should be out soon, but I haven’t seen any references to it yet.

Who would I be without my "story?"

I went to a surprise birthday party the other night and in conversation with a former co-worker asked him what he had been thinking about lately.  To say he was sort of surprised by the question is an understatement.  An explanation was required:  the basic and simple reason I asked is because I want friends who talk about ideas.  Still at a bit of a loss, he turned the question back to me:  asking “What have you been thinking about lately?”

Short answer is that I have been trying to answer the question “Who would I be without my ‘story’?”  It’s one of those Japanese koan types of question – there is no right answer.  (Nor any wrong one for that matter.)  But for me, releasing my story means that I am neither fat nor thin, successful nor unsuccessful, old nor young:  those designations come from accepting judgments or distinctions that society embraces.

Current society probably considers me overweight.  A hundred years ago, my weight might have been seen as a symbol of prosperity – a goal to be envied.  In a society where a Rajah was said to demand that his subjects pay him his weight in gold and jewels, the Rajah might consider me to be woefully thin.  So without my story – without a context to hang it on – I am neither fat nor thin.  I am whatever I decide I am!

The same arguments can be made for age.  My age on my driver’s license is not me, since I am not my driver’s license!  At 60 years old, I might be considered ancient by a child, but barely middle aged by a Hunza elder who is herself 120 years old.  So how old is “old?”  During my day-to-day activities – i.e., when I’m not looking at a mirror – I am 18 or 20 or 30.  That’s not what my outside looks like, but it’s what I look like from inside my eyes looking out.  So am I “old”?  Am I “young”?  Again, I am whatever I decide!

Or maybe I am whatever age “we” decide.  Some people might look at me and think “little old lady,” putting me in a pigeon-hole of their own choosing:  “past it,” “wise woman,” “nuisance.”  Others might choose to focus on my radiant smile or peaceful look and choose different pigeon-holes:  “mentor,” “role-model,” “person I can talk to or trust,” “weirdo.”  But notice that those pigeon-holes reflect their story – not necessarily mine.

I can choose to retain my own story and let them think what they want.  I can choose to buy into their story for me and reflect back to them what they think they want.  But either way, they are going to see what they want to see.  So do I really need my own story?  If no one is going to see me for who I “really am?”  Does it really matter what I think about myself?

So.  I’ll leave you with a couple of questions:

If my story is just my attempt to influence how people see me, what happens when I let go of it?

And:

Without some sort of story, can I even interact with other people?

Til next time, Create a joyous day!