humanity Archives - Page 9 of 13 -

Whose Story is it Anyway?

By Simone Lipscomb | December 28, 2012

At the lunch table yesterday a discussion began… it actually continued from weeks ago. My friend Geshe Thupten Dorjee was describing teachings he is sharing with people to help them overcome challenges. He said that our suffering and pain comes from being unsatisfied and discontent. One reason is because we respond to things that happen in our lives with old behavior patterns.

An example he gave was of a hunter and a bear trap. If the hunter baits the trap the bear doesn’t have to step in it. The bear makes a choice to step into the trap or avoid it. Likewise, we make choices that either keep us trapped or give us freedom.

A few weeks ago our Voluntary Sustainability group was discussing the hook. I describe the hook as being dangled tauntingly by circumstances in our lives, especially in our relationships with other humans. We are so conditioned to respond in a certain way that we often bite the bait and the hook even when the consequences result in pain and suffering. And we know, even before biting the hook, that our behavior will create suffering in our lives….but we do it anyway.

Why?

Years ago a friend suggested I journal about my personal myth. I had no idea what she meant. My personal myth? But over the years I have come to understand that each of us has a story upon which we base our lives. Our story comes from society, family and teachers in our young lives but continues to grow as we become fixated on it and unable to break free from it. As a practicing psychotherapist, I witnessed some clients identify so strongly with labels and rigid personal stories that they found it almost impossible to find healing and wholeness. “I was an addict so …..” or “I was mistreated as a child so….” or “Nobody liked me in my family so…..” All stories upon which their lives were tightly woven, too comfortable and familiar, even with suffering or agony, to rewrite.

Geshe-la gave the example of a medical doctor thinking that a fine car, huge home, country club membership and all the fluffy fixings were part of being a doctor, that those things defined what being a doctor means. Not that there is anything wrong with nice stuff, but creating a life story around a limiting societal belief gives a person little room to be fully able to bring their gifts and talents into this life, to experience freedom that comes from being authentic and real.

The Work That Reconnects with Joanna Macy
by Simone Lipscomb

This lunchtime discussion created an opportunity for me to reflect upon our relationship with Earth. What stories do we buy into? What information do we take as valid without question? How have we failed to challenge mega corporations who continue to rape the planet? They tell us we need what they are producing but do we? Whose story is that?

We have a most amazing opportunity to rewrite the story of our relationship with the planet. Each day we can add a new chapter. This is a living story, an unfolding love story….or a murder mystery. It is our choice.

manatee2 — Manatee, Three Sister’s Springs
by Simone Lipscomb

Enter the Light

By Simone Lipscomb | December 21, 2012

I stood in the chilly air awaiting the dawn. Not just of a new day but a new way. As I stood beneath old growth live oak trees, present with birds and cows awakening, I glanced over the metal roof of my home and saw a huge owl cresting the roof. She flew within a few feet of me as I stood in stillness. Silent was her passing, without a whisper of wind on wing.

Owls have amazing eyesight and can see in the darkest night. A timely reminder in this time of transition and spiritual awakening on our planet.

Bundled in warm clothes in the pre-dawn moments, I contemplated this auspicious day and remembered a conversation I had in the late 1980’s with a professor in graduate school. We were on a break and several of us were sitting around a table. The conversation turned to the end of the Mayan calendar. At the time, it was still 25 years in the future. He expressed fear and asked our opinion. I told him I thought it was simply a time of awakening, of moving from darkness into the light.

Through the years I have continued to hold that belief. And this morning I felt incredible excitement that people all over the planet were welcoming the light. Over the past few years there has been an apparent increase in darkness but what has appeared to be more darkness is perhaps light exposing the worst of humanity. Now, like the owl, we see more clearly the darkness and can make conscious choices to turn to the light.

With gratitude I saluted the Light and made my way back into my cozy kitchen for a hot mocha. Yes. This is the start of a new dawn.

And Then There Was Silence

By Simone Lipscomb | October 27, 2012

Today I was presenting a workshop on relieving stress through connection with nature. At one point participants were paired and were completing sentences given to them as cues. The room was lively as people shared about places they loved, animals and other nature-related themes. At one point I gave them the cue: What’s happening to our planet makes me feel…. The energy in the room suddenly shifted and it was quiet. Sad, depressed, scared….twenty-one individuals united for a moment by their concern about our world.

We need to get together, share our concerns and work together to create change. One thing is certain–if we do nothing, nothing will change.

The Language of Nature

By Simone Lipscomb | October 6, 2012

This past summer I deepened my understanding of nature. The challenge I find now is conveying, in words, the lessons because they came in wordless experiences while sitting under star canopies, beside salty waters–each conveying not with words but with the essence of life. How could I possibly scribble symbols to share this ancient language”? It is unwritten and must be felt….deeply felt.

I’ve puzzled over writing about primeval energies with words. It seems like two ends of a very broad spectrum of experience–the body and visceral and the mind that wants to sort and categorize and label. Maybe ancient earth wisdom is best described by sharing sensations, what my body experienced. And that’s easy: opening. My heart, mind, soul, body….o p e n i n g.

So maybe the only thing I need to write is that nature opened me this summer and I found a deep primeval dance within my heart and soul.

What makes you dance these days? What opens you to life?

Merrily, Merrily…Life is But a Dream

By Simone Lipscomb | September 10, 2012

This morning the wind was painting the clear blue sky with wisps of white–feathery clouds that floated overhead as I paddled my SUP board. While I heard evidence of humans, I saw no one. The sounds of traffic faded and my focus became the splashing of water droplets when they jumped as my paddle sliced the surface of the Magnolia River.

My mind needed time to slow down and process everything that has happened in the past two weeks…this entire summer. Cooler temperatures and lower humidity, heralds of seasonal changes, prompted me to reflect as I paddled.

When Hurricane Isaac passed south of our coast, we really didn’t have much to complain about compared to those who weathered a direct hit. But it did pose a problem for some very special beings, still incubating in their eggs buried under the white sand beside the Gulf.

As the waves roared to heights of twelve feet and the frothy water churned, the beach slowly disappeared along the Alabama Gulf Coast. Not all of it, but enough to begin to wash away sea turtle nests–loggerheads protected under the Endangered Species Act. As soon as Little Lagoon Pass bridge re-opened a few of us went to check on the unhatched nests. One was washing away as I crested the dune. I found a baby half out of her shell, washed on top of the dune. My heart sank. Two other team members arrived and we collected unhatched eggs and egg shells. Because of flooding, the babies were coming too soon but were coming never-the-less because they have a reflex that takes over when their nest is flooded. They were emergency hatching.

With howling wind and driving rain and waves that were shaking the beach, these premie turtles were making a break for it. Emotions within me were scattered just as the egg shells were after waves had eaten the nest and dispersed them. But there was no time to stop and connect with feelings because of the work necessary to save these babies. And we saved as many as possible. The experience left me raw and unhinged.

But today….this beautiful pre-autumnal morning–there was time to allow a space for everything I have experienced this summer. Joyous births of hundreds of sea turtles over the course of the past few months, connecting with nature-lovers and people who put wildlife first, night skies filled with shooting stars, laughter and more all drifted effortlessly through my mind. And challenges I’ve had surfaced as well. But everything that floated through my mind lazily moved by just as a piece of driftwood or leaf blown by the slight breeze.
This summer I’ve immersed myself so deeply with nature that trying to fit into a world of humans and machines has been challenging. I’ve wanted to simply allow nature to take me and teach me the instinctual wisdom that many of us (as humans) have forgotten.

Sea turtles have called to me for many years. I’ve collected art–like a raku turtle hatchling that sits on my desk or the art tattooed on my body–and named my business, Turtle Island Adventures, and had experiences with them while diving or walking along the shore. All of this feels like bread crumbs along my Path, leading me to this point….this place of remembering.

The language of the wind, the Earth’s heart beat, star energy and the ancient instinctual wisdom of sea turtles has filled my summer and I’ve never felt so in sync with my purpose. If I could have dreamed up this life, I can think of few things I would add to the experiences unfolding….maybe world peace and renewable energy instead of fossil fuels….two more things to dream up. Will you join me?