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Artist of the Spirit

By Simone Lipscomb | July 23, 2014

A long time ago I had a teacher ask me to write my personal myth. I wrote about what I did and what my dreams were but knew that didn’t fulfill the assignment. I didn’t quite understand the idea.

Over the years I’ve come to grasp the concept a little better. Each of us has a story. We create our story with awareness or without awareness. With awareness we weave our story with truth and love and without awareness we create a personal myth based on lies.

The personal myth or story is the internal dialogue we repeat over and over in our minds. The chatter, the busy-talk, the mantra on permanent replay that is the white noise of our lives. The problem with the story is that most of the time it is a distortion. Until we can clearly listen, it quite literally is the old trick of putting short micro-second clips or subliminal messages in movies that create within viewers the urge to buy popcorn and soda at movie theaters. That’s illegal these days. But clearly nobody has outlawed the story we tell ourselves about our own lives. Too bad.

Since we don’t have advocates for truth-busting our internal dialogues, how can we excise the pervasive messages that keep us stuck? It takes practice to tune in to the internal narrator that bombards us with propaganda. You might have heard your internal storyteller whispering your story in the first person.

“I can’t do this.” “I’m not strong enough.” “Why do I think people will buy my books or photographs?” “There’s nobody out there for me.” “Nobody cares about the planet.” “Corporations rule the world so why should I bother? My voice is too small.” “I don’t need his or her help.”

The list my internal storyteller (tyrant) tells me is endless and on constant replay. Yet that voice is so soft I must be very diligent in listening. Otherwise, the dialogue becomes habitual and my life yields a perfect mirror of the near-silent lies.

I’ve been able to trace my core myth to my toddler years. One specific experience remains vivid because it became such a family story. I was riding my tricycle under my grandparents carport and came to the end of the concrete. My uncle asked if I needed help turning my trike. I stopped, stood up and replied, “Nope,” as I grabbed the metal bar and seat, lifted it and turned it around and continued peddling.

In today’s meditation I reflected back on that moment and how my basic myth is ‘I don’t need anyone.’ I saw my core personal myth is based on this huge lie. As the realization grew, patterns of behavior became evident and I saw how I have created my life on that foundational belief.

The crazy part of this story is there is nothing I want more than a good partnership, a true love. What I desire most will never come to be until I change my story, alter the internal dialogue that is the foundation of what I believe about my life.

It takes courage to listen and become aware of our story. The courage part is necessary because we will discover darkness woven into what we believe about ourselves. And others. We all can fall prey to the inner tyrant–that ranting storyteller who weaves very negative tales.

So how do we create a story that is true? First, we simply listen. Carefully and without judgement, listen to what is repeating in our minds. And most importantly, if the internal voice goes against us, puts us down or reinforces those negative beliefs we have about ourselves, then stop believing what it’s saying. “Truth survives skepticism but lies don’t.”*

I’m weary of the inner tyrant narrating my story. I see glimpses of the truth as I open my heart and mind. It’s not easy but freedom comes when we create a personal myth based on love rather than lies. All of us have the capacity to be an artist of the spirit.

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*Several years ago I read the Don Miguel Ruiz book, The Voice of Knowledge. I was recently guided to re-read it. For a deeper exploration into uncovering personal myth I suggest reading his book.

To order my books visit my BOOKS page.

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I Stopped Trying to Save the World Today

By Simone Lipscomb | July 1, 2014

Solstice. Sunrise. Sunset. Moon. Stars. Inky blackness in a space vacuum pierced by pinpoints of light.

Cosmic glue. Love. Source. Spirit. Animation of matter through particles of light.

Heart and mind open, light sparkles through eyes and aura.

Light, mist of Love manifested in physical. Light and love, same expression of the Mystery, the Unnamable.

Defining It lessens It and contorts It into our image.

Light came from Dreamland with me this day–a flower opening, a single ray of light from the sun…smile of a friend after a belly laugh slurped from the same straw.

Today I stopped trying to save the world. Now there is only laughter and beauty. Outrageous laughter. Delicious beauty.

Stopped pushing, began allowing. Profound peace is at home within me. And now….everything is possible.

Keep It Real

By Simone Lipscomb | June 20, 2014

I woke up early my first morning back from two weeks of desert and ocean and heard myself say out loud, “Keep it real.” I was referring to breaking out of that habit of turning on an electronic device as soon as I was conscious. There, among fish, cactus and iguanas, I was either scuba diving at dawn, photographing the sunrise or writing beside the Ocean…all contemplative and solitary experiences. I didn’t want to return to old habits.

With pen and pad in hand, I went to my hammock chair on the back screened porch. It seemed to be inviting me to sit and contemplate. The cat kids joined me as we welcomed the day under the massive arching branches of my friend, the grandmother live oak tree. I sat quietly observing the sounds, listening to the dawn.

I’ve pondered the reason I feel so alive in Bonaire. Is it diving? Ocean? Desert? Latitude? What if it’s simply spending so many hours outdoors each day. What if it’s that simple.

There are many distractions at home…stacks of mail to sort and recycle, Netflix series paused mid-season, Facebook, emails, telephone messages. It’s an endless list created just to navigate each day. Everything on my to-do list seems to take me further away from the reality of nature and more specifically, the connection that nature and I share. When I unplug from nature, I am unplugging from my self. These castles of distractions I build seem to carry me further from home, further from who I am in my most physical self and spiritual core.

Rainbow cotton threads supported my body and I swayed gently. Birdsong filled the air. A barred owl hooted nearby. Cardinals, chickadees, titmice, wrens, warblers and even a random sea gull voice created a welcome song to the day. Flashes of wings flitted among the courtyard greenery as my cats and I sat watching, welcoming life.

Stanley K, my orange tabby friend, jumped on the ledge at the screen and threaded his head in and out of the hammock support strings. I don’t know why he did it but he appeared to be having fun. So I wondered….what do I do just because it is fun and playful? Do I miss out on life because I’m too serious….there are those piles of correspondence in paper and electronic form. Do I allow myself the freedom of play while in the land of saltwater and desert, fish and iguanas and not so much when I return? Do I censor my relationship with nature?

The day before I wandered through my yard and noticed someone had trimmed the shrubs in my yard while I was away…without my request or permission. I felt anger arise. I don’t like them cut into perfect spheres and prefer a more natural shape so the new shape really irritated me as it was generated from some random person that maintains the development’s plants (not invited into my yard). I sat with my strong emotions as an observer and realized that in Bonaire it’s easy to be fully who I am, open with my wild-woman self…the part of me that is fiercely connected to nature, gently connected…deeply aware of her connection with all life. When I return to my home it feels like a constant inner battle to stay real with my self, like I’m fighting an established norm to fit into a box or in the case of my shrub friends, a ‘perfect’ sphere. It’s draining and exhausting at times.

I don’t like boxes or conforming for the sake of conforming; yet I know, on some deep level, the constant attention to the edge is what motivates me to create. Dancing with the edge builds courage. It cultivates determination. It deepens passion to pursue the dreams. Just realizing this truth gives me understanding and thus fuels my efforts even more to keep it real…to stay connected with trees, earth, animals, sky, ocean….to dance with nature as She calls me.

Am I willing to drink the Koolaid and conform to the machine that keeps me asleep to my strong, wild and outrageously beautiful connection with nature or am I willing to continue to work for my freedom? If you’ve read this far and you know anything about me you already know the answer to that question. Koolaid be damned.

A Wild Heart Always Has Hope

By Simone Lipscomb | June 15, 2014

Stanley Kubrick awakened me this morning in his attempt to snuggle closer. My orange tabby and his sisters missed me during my two week absence as I recharged and renewed my life in my spiritual home, Bonaire.

Unable to return to the land of dreams, I felt a shell forming around me…the one that I unconsciously assemble when away from the wilds of the magic of the desert island that touches me like no other place. When I make my yearly pilgrimage I feel it immediately cast off as soon as I walk down the stairs from the plane to the ground in the high, dry winds. Once the ground of Bonaire is underfoot I enter a deep place within myself.

On the final dive of the visit home, I turned to face the deep, blue water past the reef. My hands folded in a prayer position, I thanked the community of life there that welcomes me and nurtures me so profoundly. As I gently flipped my fin to turn back toward shore, I noticed a smallish green turtle slowly and effortlessly swimming in across my path. I stopped and watched and started laughing with joy. How perfect! For many years my logo has been a sea turtle and so the many, many teachings received and lessons learned from these two weeks were given the proverbial icing on the cake.

As I surfaced I turned and look back over the Ocean toward the mountains at the north end of the island. The setting sun was golden as it sparkled on the water’s surface. Suddenly I burst into joy-enduced laughter that was in no hurry to subside.

Another desert visit on Friday and then it was Saturday, time to leave. This is no easy task for me…aside from repacking dive gear, photography gear, computer and clothes. Uprooting myself from this sacred place is painful, so deep is the connection I feel to it.

As I sat next to the Ocean in the pre-dawn moments, the full moon hung amidst puffy clouds in the lightening sky. The rising sun’s light began to reflect onto the cloud which in turn reflected on the Ocean’s surface and then to me. It felt like the resplendent light of the Universe was touching me to ease the pain of leaving.

The pull of the moon on the sea has the same pull on me, my own inner tides. Turquoise and indigo saltwater bliss were inches from my toes and once again I was conscious of the Oneness of life.

Little crabs, at home in their crab kingdom, creeped closer and closer to my still toes. Wind whipped through my long mermaid hair. Salt air filled my lungs with each deep breath I took and with the exhalation feelings were given space to be…joy, sadness, grief, gratitude.

The bells of Her voice spoke through the tinkling coral pieces washing in the surf, in the wind whispering through cactus needles and by osmosis as I spent over 31 hours beneath the surface during my time there. Be fluid, be movable. Be open to the tides of your life. Live in awareness and awake to the energies of the planet. Be an ally to all life of the planet.

The downy breast of the tiny dove cradles her heart thats warmth touches mine. The iguana’s reptile heart, encased in rough scales on leathery skin, beats a rhythm I feel. The small but strong hearts of tiny crabs skittering along the shore’s edge, give yet another cadence. Each part of life pulses to its own, unique beat yet exists in harmony with all other life. We are all connected by one beating, planetary heart.

My favorite experience of the two week journey happened on a solo dive:

While diving at the Salt Pier I floated weightless among a huge school of small-mouth grunts. Their deep gold stripes and fins were brilliant against the deeper blue water beyond the pilings. Hovering horizontal, unmoving except how the Ocean chose to move us, the fish and I became one life, connected by water. Their large black eyes watched me, unconcerned. I was no threat, only part of the whole, in sync with them, in harmony. Almost an hour spent floating, gently drifting with the ever-so-slight undulations of the sea, surrendered, at peace. Part of the whole. Connected.

A friend recently reminded me that a wild heart always has hope. This is my life’s song:

Into the blue, into the blue

Deeper and deeper I drop.

Gliding down to the briny deep,

The spiral continues in my journey of love,

Of compassion…of hope.

Lesson from a Drop of Water

By Simone Lipscomb | May 17, 2014

Imagine a drop of water clinging to a leaf over a still river. It desperately holds on to what is familiar because the Unknown is vast. What if the drop loses what it knows as itself in the huge expanse of water? What will happen to it?

Alas, the fight to hold on becomes more difficult than facing the fear of letting go. So slowly, ever so slowly, gravity works its magic and the droplet lets go.

The droplet feels the rush of cool air as it speeds to the surface but there’s nothing to do now except allow…be open, inviting.

The first touch of the river sends vibrations of knowing throughout the droplet. Instead of losing itself, its identity, it becomes the river, the bay, the Gulf…the Ocean.

When we allow ourselves to let go and be immersed in the Vast Expanse we call…God, Spirit, Source, Great Spirit, the Tao….we become who we are. There is no need to search, just a need to let go and allow.