Category: conscious change

Sacred, Holy Work

Sacred, Holy Work

800_1019Yesterday a person I haven’t seen in a while asked me what I was doing with myself these days. As I was attempting to answer she said, “Nothing? Still goofing around?” Maybe I misunderstood as I was attempting to answer her,”I’m still writing and taking photographs and generally trying to make the world a better place.” But our words intersected and I was left feeling quite strange. You see it didn’t matter who said the words…nothing…goofing around…what I heard is what I think about my life much of the time. The slap in my face comes from my own self-assessment, not from anyone else. Her words simply pried open the lid of my inner Pandora’s box.

A couple weeks ago a person I met asked what I ‘did’ and my reply? “I’m just a writer and nature photographer.” I couldn’t believe it when the words came out of my mouth. My jaw literally dropped as I caught my statement of shame and restated to her….”I am a writer and nature photographer.”

I’m just?

Image taken while I was on a spiritual-photography retreat

I stunned myself by proclaiming that the work of my life, this sacred, holy work is...just? Doing this work is following my spiritual path so why did I answer with such shame? And what’s with the snooty judgement of my life’s work?

In contemplating the words from yesterday, whether they were actually spoken aloud or my inner filters chimed in with the negative assessment of my life, I realized an old wound had circled around again and was snarling at me. It says this: Nothing I ever do is good enough. I’m not good enough so therefore everything I give to the world is unacceptable….. Old beliefs don’t die. They just quieten their chatter and slip underground when we become distracted. They lay waiting until they can slyly sneak within hearing range and softly whisper their dark, sinister messages into our innocent ears. You’re not good enough. Why do you think you can make a difference? Why don’t you give up? The spiral brings the wound around again to be healed at a deeper level.

Photo by Rebecca Droillard
Photo by Rebecca Drouillard

Today I was reading from a course of study and the question was asked, “What more can one give but oneself?” I thought back to yesterday’s exchange and to a couple weeks ago when I stated I was just a writer and photographer. If I am ashamed of my sacred work, how will I ever believe that what I have to offer in service will be enough? How can I be enough in relationship with the Universe, my self, a man, other people?

What am I willing to sacrifice on my spiritual path? Everything, even the old beliefs that have kept me small.

Armondo carves stones that he places on his property in Akumal, Mexico as a way to honor the earth
Armondo carves stones that he places on his property in Akumal, Mexico as a way to honor the earth

No matter what work we do, if we do it with love and surrender ourselves to it, it is sacred and holy. May we find the courage to walk our paths and seek opportunities to share ourselves with the world.

 

Making a Difference

Making a Difference

simonelipscomb (7)Several weeks ago I met my friend in the Smoky Mountains for an afternoon photography shoot. As we drove through Cades Cove we caught up with each other and shared a bit about our lives. We are both committed to our paths and want to make a difference in the world and shared our frustration at not really knowing how to do that or if what we are doing is really positively impacting the world.

A friend in Japan has been exploring how she wants to work to help make the world a better place and is frustrated as to how she can do this. She has volunteered in an elephant sanctuary and in the past has worked with marine mammal rescue but she, like others I know, wants to make a difference every day.

Over the past couple of days another friend and I have been in contact about the desire to make a difference in the world. It feels like the HID light was just turned on deep in an underwater cave. His clarity encouraged me.

A funk, for lack of a better word, has been dominating my life for the past several months. I am not sure of the origin of this downward turn. There is so much negative everything happening and the environmental issues coupled with atrocities humans perpetuate on each other have made it difficult to know what to do. After working with vigor and with passion documenting the BP Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill and before that, in creating books of beauty and inspiration, all with the goal of making a difference, I find hundreds of books in boxes in my home…their message of beauty and hope sitting tucked away from the world. A perfect metaphor of how I feel. Despondency and feeling a loss as to what I’m really supposed to be doing with my life has been the question that occupies my mind.

simonelipscomb (5)The heart-friend I recently wrote of retired from over thirty years of service to his community. He was a leader as a firefighter and trained in many disciplines so he could be excellent in his work. Rookies and seasoned firefighters alike looked up to him and his valuable skills. His career of rescue work is truly inspiring. Upon retirement he wasn’t doing what he wanted to do…making a difference. It was a terrible adjustment for him as his heart is huge and his intention of service matches the size of his heart. It wasn’t until he followed his path to serve in a war-torn country that he once-again fulfilled, in his mind, his goal. He has found what he was looking for–making a difference.

We follow little breadcrumb thoughts which lead us to decisions. We act on these decisions and make changes in our lives–some are huge, some are small. We direct our energy toward the slow-growing momentum and then hope for the best. But how do we know our efforts really are making a difference? How do we maintain trust in ourselves and in our decisions? Here’s a cave-diving analogy.

Photo by Ed Jackson
Photo by Ed Jackson of me and my buddy Ray and his light in the distance

When cave diving a diver knows that caves are dark. It seems a silly statement but I cannot count the number of times I’ve been asked the question: Are underwater caves really dark? Think of the darkest, inkiest, blackest darkness and then think of it as flowing and moving around you. Yes…underwater caves are dark. So a diver takes redundant equipment into a cave–air and light. Three lights are required equipment–a primary light and two back-up lights. The primary is a very bright, strong light and the back-up lights are smaller and always contain fresh batteries.

Photo by Ed Jackson
Photo by Ed Jackson…Yes, that’s me diving with my buddy, Ray, behind me.

So if I’m diving in a cave and for some reason my primary light fails, out comes a back-up light. If that fails, out comes the other back-up light. If we apply the analogy of cave diving to our lives, think of our life’s path as the primary light. We are born, we develop and learn and find our way to our path. A natural light is emitted from it as we progress. But there comes a time when we lose faith in our path, we find ourselves far from those we love, and who love us, we retire, or move to a new area, and that light wavers and then blinks out. We are left in the dark.

It’s not a happy place, this darkness. It’s difficult to orient ourselves, find our way. Which way do we go? Where is the line? Which tunnel is the way home?

Photo by Ed Jackson
Photo by Ed Jackson….I miss these caves!!!

When this happens we can contact a friend, one of our back-up lights, to help light our way. Sometimes the path we tread must have light from another source. When our own light seems dim, there are others who can help us see the path we have chosen. Their light can help us stay true and move forward when we have lost faith in what we do. We may come to a side tunnel in our underwater cave and the extra light may be necessary to see which way leads us home.

Some may think the primary light in cave diving is the most important but ask any cave diver who has had to deploy a back-up light or two. Those little lights are the real life-savers.

I am grateful for my heart-friend that reminded me to keep working on my path of service. His light encouraged me to stay with it, even when it feels like I am not making a difference. Sometimes I stumble along in darkness and then a ray of light comes forward to illuminate the way.

simonelipscomb (6)May we all be lights unto each other.

Thanks for reading. Please comment or share as you see fit. 

 

 

Enter Persephone

Enter Persephone

simonelipscomb (6)A couple days ago I was shopping at my favorite natural foods store and happened upon organic pomegranates. Something compelled me to add one to my cart. Today, after my workout, I arrived home hungry and wanting refreshment so I greedily eyed the ripe fruit.

I began cooking brunch while simultaneously beginning the long process of freeing the plump, red, succulent seeds from their honeycomb-like womb. Stir the broccoli, peel a bit more….add the eggs, peel a bit more. Sneaking a sweet seed with its fleshy pulp fruit, I nearly melted. How exquisite, what an explosion of flavor. My spelt bread finished toasting and I added local honey to it. I dipped my finger in the thick, golden liquid and sucked it off and was met with a most interesting contrast of intense sweetness mixed with the sweet-tart-sour of the pomegranate fruit.

But meanwhile, the main course was ready so I sat down, with red-stained hands, to eat. Upon completion of my meal I went back to the task of sorting the tiny, fleshy fruit from the peel with the intention of sitting in my courtyard and enjoying the fruits of my labor. The effort yielded a bowl-full of delicious treats and I sat outside, next to the grandmother oak tree, eating until I could eat no more. As I ate, I pondered the mythology that was linked to pomegranates.

simonelipscombIn mythos Persephone was beautiful, well-loved and innocent. She was the daughter of Demeter–goddess of the harvest–and Zeus. Even Hades, god of the underworld, wanted Persephone. So one day, when she was out enjoying the flowers and most likely chatting with deer, rabbits and other gentle creatures, the earth split open and Hades thundered out in his chariot pulled by black horses and abducted the fair and lovely Persephone.

simonelipscomb (2)Demeter was heart-broken and wandered the earth looking for her lost daughter. She was so upset that she withdrew in deep depression and loneliness and because of this the earth ceased to be fertile. Everything began to turn brown. Zeus saw what was happening and sent Hermes into the underworld to demand the release of his daughter. Hades consented but gave Persephone a pomegranate as she left and it is said that she ate only three seeds of the sweet fruit; in doing so she forever bound herself to the underworld.

Because she partook of the fruit given her by Hades, she had to spend part of each year in the underworld with him. During this time Demeter mourned and withdrew and green things of the earth stopped growing. This myth explained winter and the cycling of the seasons in Greek culture. And yet, it explained so much more.

simonelipscomb (5)Each of us must take the journey of Persephone many times during our lives. We must journey into our own darkness and get to know it in order to emerge into the light of our spirit. Like Persephone, it isn’t a one-time event. We most likely would prefer not to have to make this journey more than once, but as we engage in our lives, inner triggers are pushed which, if followed, lead us back into our dark, inner world. We can try to postpone the journey but if we do, we will certainly repeat the same patterns again and again until we go within and deal with our ‘stuff.’

Perhaps we fear the darkness and are afraid we’ll be absorbed or lost in it; however, some of the most creative expressions throughout history have come from artists who have taken the journey of Persephone into their inner underworld and give expression to it. Eat the seeds, take the journey and dance in the darkness, sing in it, play it out with music. Create beauty out of the journey into the inner world. For without the journey inwards into our darkness, we could never come to the full expression of light.

simonelipscomb (1)The choice we have is whether we’ll go kicking and screaming when life abducts us or if we’ll go willingly. Either way, it is good to remember that sweetness and nurturance also can be found in the darkness and help is ever with us, even though many times unseen. It is often said that when we feel the most alone is when we have the most assistance on a spiritual level. We can draw from the strength of those who have made the journey of Persephone. Know that just as the seasons cycle, so too do the times of darkness.

Please comment, share and re-post as you feel moved. 

 

A Sensitive Heart

A Sensitive Heart

simonelipscomb“I have sea foam in my veins, for I understand the language of waves.” Le Testament d’Orphee is a movie I’ve never seen but this quote from it touches me deeply. It was quoted in an article I read this morning during my hammock time with my ginger cat, Stanley. It was a piece about sensitive souls…the traits and behaviors…the feelings. As I read it a mirror to my soul seemed to open. FINALLY! There are others out there. (Deep sigh).

IMG_0002My first memory of my inner life being at odds with the outer world was when I was about eight years old. My father and I were watching a movie about an old man who saved up hard-earned money to purchase a pane of glass for the only window in his shack. He installed it and it had only been in place for a brief time when his mule kicked a bucket that went crashing into the window–which shattered. The man beat the mule. I cried and my father laughed at me for crying. He asked why I was crying. For the mule, for being beaten, of course. It was then that I begin to learn that my sensitive heart was in for a rough ride.

The article states, “You absorb sensation the way a paintbrush grasps each color it touches on a palette. The ethereal beauty of a dandelion, the shift of a season, the climax of a song, or the scent of a certain fragrance can sometimes move you to tears…Basically this means if you are sensitive, you have the ability to see colors and feel energy the way others hear jet planes.” Victoria Erickson, the writer, goes on to quote research that says sensitive souls make up about 20% of the population. People who are super-sensitive have nervous systems that respond easily to stimuli which can be overwhelming and exhausting. “Sometimes your sensitivity makes life extraordinarily painful and you want to shut down and hide your raw self from the loud chaos that accompanies this earth’s continual rotation.”

Victoria lists six ways to stay balanced….create, enjoy the company of animals, seek out water, recognize what is only your energy and emotion (its easy to absorb other’s energy), surround yourself with people that understand your nature and nurture that connection, retreat, replenish and rejuvenate. Her advice was so good that I saved the article to my desktop so I can review regularly.

After I finished reading I sat in the hammock chair with my cat buddy and pondered the eye-opening information. There have been many times I have been laughed at, made fun of, and generally put-down because I am sensitive. And I know there are others who have experienced this treatment. When this happens we close down, little-by-little. Our experience of the world narrows as we deny the very ability we have that feeds and nurtures us.

IMG_0010

When my daughter was born, I begin to reawaken to the part of myself I had closed off, lost even, through my childhood, adolescence and young adult life. Her arrival into my life was a catalyst that pushed me onto my spiritual path and steered me deeper into my heart. When she was born I suddenly knew what it was like to truly love someone.

Everything didn’t change overnight. It takes an immense amount of work to learn to stay open to the beauty around us and not close down when the rest of the world seems to not notice. There were many, many rocky years and times when the dichotomy, of what I knew to be my truth and what the world told me my truth was, was difficult to sort out. I carry many battle scars.

About eleven years ago I reached a very low point in my life when things literally fell apart around me. It was as if everything I cared for shattered and shifted and I was left feeling completely beaten down and also, oddly enough,  feeling incredibly open. At that time a man came into my life that helped nurture me so that I could put my life back together, in a more harmonious way. His was a sensitive heart, even though he didn’t like to admit it. The light he shined into my life helped me believe that I could be myself and live fully. At first he kidded me about talking to trees but before our relationship ended, I caught him talking to trees….although he would most likely deny that now.

I was blessed to have someone who believed in me, that stood beside me as I lifted myself out of the rubble of my life.

simonelipscomb (5)What does the world do to a sensitive heart? How do we survive the challenges, the fears, the chaos we encounter simply by living on this planet? This fragile beauty, this light within us can be so easily destroyed, snuffed out. The magnificence of a sensitive soul can be chased into hiding by the stresses of daily life. This, to me, is the greatest loss we all experience. When we lose our brothers and sisters whose sensitive hearts and souls bless this place, then truly we have lost great treasures. I know there are many whose light has been diminished or hidden by the stresses of life. May we reach out in understanding and love and stand with them as they work to find peace and wholeness.

When these lights go into hiding it’s not simply a personal loss, but a planetary loss. We need more people now than ever before who are in touch with their hearts and in communion with the beauty..and who are unafraid to show it. May we support each other always in finding and staying connected to our true selves.

 

Unattached to Attachments

Unattached to Attachments

 

800_9979I was driving and found myself laughing hysterically and uncontrollably. It has been a long time since laughter has taken over and caused me to lose myself completely in its grip.

My brother has been working on a project and I decided to spend the afternoon with him and offer moral support. I was on my way to his barn when I began reflecting on realizations that came last evening. I wrote about them in my blog from yesterday entitled, Change. The nutshell? Letting go of the idea that I can create change in others by my actions and feeling like a failure if the world doesn’t improve because of my efforts.

So as I was driving I had this image of me whopping people over the head with my love for the planet. I’ll make you get it!  That’s what started the belly laughs. I felt a huge rush of energy clear out remnants of left-over omnipotence and the image came of me loving someone so much I beat them over the head with love….isn’t that hilarious? For some reason those images completely cracked me up and it felt good. Well…actually…it felt great!

photo by perry dixon
photo by perry dixon

I was reminded again that my only desire is simply to allow love to flow through me and out into the world without attachment to who accepts it or what positive changes happen. What freedom! How much energy I’ve used to try and persuade, cajole, encourage positive change in others while it has depleted me. The laughter helped me feel the insanity of those crusades and release leftover crumbs of that way of thinking.

Isn’t it interesting how no matter the cause we are drawn to…whether it’s saving polar bears, stopping the Keystone XL pipeline, having health insurance for everyone, balancing a budget, gun rights, helping homeless people, helping homeless animals….our passion is what drives us. Our love is what fuels our work, our drive to make a difference. Being attached to our opinion, our work making the difference is the glitch…that’s where we stumble. That’s where we fail.

Our hearts are like blossoms, waiting to bloom
Our hearts are like blossoms, waiting to bloom

If I say I love you, share my innermost feelings and show relentless support and you tell me to go away, have I failed? Not in any way. I took the risk to share and it didn’t change your response. It doesn’t make you or me a bad person.

If you tell me that polar bears have very little sea ice on which to live and I don’t donate $100 to your cause, it doesn’t negate your work or my right to direct my energies elsewhere. Being attached to outcomes is so self-defeating, so damaging.

What would it be like to live without attachments? What if happiness and joy didn’t depend on how others responded to our choices, our passions, the lengths we go to to create positive outcomes? What would life be like if we simply did what we felt called to do with love and passion and dedication simply because it brought us immense joy? And allowed others that same freedom.

Wouldn’t it be great to let go of attachments? To be unattached to attachments….now that is living!

Pelicans and friend at Ft Morgan
Pelicans and friend at Ft Morgan