love Archives - Page 4 of 22 -

Remembering the Whales

By Simone Lipscomb | November 1, 2018

As I was doing my sunrise, front porch yoga this morning, I flashed back to pre-dawn yoga anchored 90 miles offshore of the Dominican Republic. The moon was still hanging low in the sky, the stars were visible even with the white light of the moon. All around me whales were floating, silent in their reveries. Their misty, fishy breath drifted across the deck as I moved through my practice.

During that time there was no doubt they were completely aware of my consciousness and intention. The words I held in my heart to connect with the Ocean, Stars, Whales were magnified with love moving between my heart and their hearts. As I type this even now I get goosebumps….more than two years later.

In my book, Cosmic Whales, I describe in detail the experience of feeling a purple flame of light surround me. “Halfway through my yoga practice, I face the port side of the boat in a wide, squat pose. White whale breath nearby is illuminated by the nearly full moon. A whale exhales close to the boat and I feel the breath drift across my face and arms. A shooting star arcs across the sky, over the whale….I am awestruck and stand in mountain pose in contemplation….It is a moving mantra of love for the Ocean. The whales respond by coming even closer to the boat….In the moonlit, pre-dawn light I hear them exhale and see their misty, white breath as it drifts across the calm, black surface of the water….I hold my hands overhead in prayer and feel myself engulfed in spiritual flames of blue, then violet.”

Moments like these can bring us joy and peace years after the initial experience. Lately, I’ve been thinking about humpback whales…a lot. They began calling me when I was just a child. And now, living far from their summer feeding grounds, I feel their insistent presence within my heart and mind. Blessed are the singers, who call me home.

Oneness, 2

By Simone Lipscomb | September 20, 2018

Cool raindrops kissed my skin as I pedaled just after dawn. It felt like a cleansing, a baptism of sorts, after several weeks of intense soul work.

My open mouth welcomed raindrops falling on my tongue. Drops of rain dripped through helmet vents as my crown was cleansed. No lightning insured a simple, sacred sprinkling.

The truth of Oneness was a thread I tugged on throughout the eighteen miles. I thought of my concerns over selling my home and purchasing another one and wondering how that will work out with five precious four-leggeds that depend on me. I pondered the work that calls me which I have no real definition for or direction to. Feeling stuck with all of this has driven me deep into my own depths–which has been incredibly painful.

As I pedaled I heard an inner voice arise with guidance that answered my concerns.

It reminded me that what I’m going through–wondering about ‘home’ and how everything will work out–is something wildlife is experiencing….not through ‘thoughts’ but through loss of healthy ecosystems and food sources. Loss of potential mates and young. Extinction for a group of orca seems certain. Right whales….the future is very grim. Is this not the same experience of sorts? Only mine is a matter of timing whereas their situation is truly dire. Remember the mother orca that carried her dead baby for weeks as the world watched and grieved. I believe she was reaching out to some intelligence–somewhere– to ask for help for her species…for all species.

We tend to personalize our suffering, our worries and concerns; however, because there truly is no separation and only Oneness, all life is experiencing this pain simultaneously. We can tune out by ignoring or distracting or practicing addictions that keep us insulated from the global pain or we can, with courage and intention, allow ourselves to feel the grief of all life. If this route is chosen, be warned….it’s not an easy journey.

In truth, if we don’t choose to listen to the cries of all life as it weeps over loss and struggles to survive, we are contributing to and speeding up the process of its destruction…our destruction. Humans are not immune to experiencing loss. Ask those who are living through the floods from Hurricane Florence.

Remaining open to the realization of Oneness is like dancing on the railing of a ship tossed by a storm. It’s a delicate balance where we must gaze into the eyes of suffering while not allowing it to make us fall into the tempest. Somehow we must learn to dance with open hearts and minds, looking at the suffering of the world as it is reflected within us. We do this by reaching out to each other, holding hands and vowing to work together…no matter what.

We must remain mindful that joy and beauty are the Medicines that keep us sane as we acknowledge the deep suffering of our world.

The Face of What’s Happening

By Simone Lipscomb | June 12, 2018

Do you dare look? Can you bear the grief? Sea turtle nearly decapitated by propeller. Children ripped from their parents. Whales dead full of plastic. This takes courage friends. To deny our grief is to make ourselves sick. The planet is suffering. All life is suffering. So what can we do?

The face of suffering is evident every day whether we watch the news or read it or listen on the radio. From every direction we are made aware of the destruction. Perhaps our natural inclination is to look away, but not because we don’t care. Perhaps, as Joanna Macy says, it’s because we don’t know what to do with our grief and we feel overwhelmed.

Last night I dreamed I was helping a sea turtle whose throat had been slit. This morning, on sea turtle nest patrol, I came upon a critically endangered Kemp’s Ridley sea turtle whose neck had been nearly severed from an apparent propeller strike. Even in my dreams they reach out asking for help. And so today, I share this turtle’s story and use it to illustrate the bigger story happening in the world and with every one of us.

So how can we look upon the face of suffering and death and survive the grief? If you are paying attention, you are probably sad and maybe even depressed. And I’m guessing you feel grief. The answer is to feel it. Have the courage to look and feel the emotions and then allow them to move out of your beautiful heart into the world. Don’t be afraid of the grief and likewise, don’t be afraid of your own depth of caring, love and compassion.

I sat beside the turtle’s body after patrol was done. I sang her a song and thanked her for bringing such beauty into the world. The odor of rotting flesh covered my hands and the wind blew her death smell over me as I wept openly. Not just for her passing but for the opportunity to love. What an amazing time to be alive, when every person’s love and compassion is needed so very much.

If you think you can’t make a difference, or the pain of what’s happening is simply too much to bear, allow the strength of that which you love pour through you as grace. That’s what Joanna Macy reminded our on-line group last week. Breathe in the strength of the turtle species that have survived for so long and let that strength pour through as grace to move out through your heart into the world….or the whales….or children removed from parents….or whatever it is that you love deeply. Work with your grief and let it motivate you to love deeper and fuller.

And let me know if you want to work on this together. Thanks to training with Joanna years ago in a week-long retreat, I have some ideas as to how we can come together and stay sane as the chaos of uncertainty shakes us. Always happy to bring a group together to further more love, compassion and grace in this world. (Email Simone)

I Lit a Candle Today

By Simone Lipscomb | February 7, 2018

Mitchell Henry built a small, Gothic cathedral in the Connemara region of western Ireland. He built a castle here in the 1800’s and when his beloved wife died at the young age of 45, he loved her so much he built the cathedral in her memory. Rather than having frightening gargoyles, the structure is more feminine and has smiling angels carved throughout with delicately carved flowers and birds. There is a beautiful stained glass window of Mary depicting the five graces–Fortitude, Faith, Charity, Hope and Chastity.

As I wandered through the small cathedral I marveled at the love this man had for his wife and reflected on my own lack of a partner…which grieves me. In front of the stained glass of Mary was a candle holder where you can light a candle and say a prayer. So I decided to make a donation and light a candle to ask Mary to bring a man that will love me with a great love and be my partner in life and adventures.

After saying the prayer I picked up the lighter. I repeatedly tried to light the candle, thinking it was already in the holder. So I’m not Catholic and had no idea you had to actually put a candle in the glass. I thought the candle was deep inside the glass. I laughed out loud as I glanced to the left and saw a basket of candles.

I finally got the thing lit but am still pondering the entire experience. I asked for this ‘miracle,’ fired up the lighter but there was nothing to light because I didn’t know I had to have a candle. What the heck does that mean in my relationship life? Geez…. There is a definite lesson there.

Anyway….

It was the first rainy day in Ireland since I arrived almost a week ago so no complaints about the rain. There was plenty of beauty to be found wandering around the grounds of Kylemore Abbey.

Some of the leyland cypress trees had to be over 500 years old. I stopped and leaned my forehead against one and dropped into silence. I saw a series of what appeared to be files flashing rapidly in my mind so I asked the tree to slow down and choose one for me to look at…like it was showing me the growth rings representing years. I saw it as a very small, young tree and heard–See, I started out tiny and frail and look at me now. Don’t ever give up.

I thanked the tree and walked on through the forest enjoying the sweet, soft energy of the ancient beings. Maybe the tree was reminding me to keep doing the work I do, that it will grow and develop. Perhaps it was telling me that a great love is coming into my life. One thing is for sure–I was reminded to never give up on something that is important to me.

So beloved man, whoever you are, I lit a candle for you today and asked Mary to guide you to me. And I hugged an ancient tree which reminded me to never give up on anything that’s important to me. And my work to reveal beauty to anyone who will pay attention continues.