Category Archives: Writings

More Than Shades of Grey

Imagine there's no heavenIt's easy if

I’ve just finished reading 50 Shades of Grey and I want to read the next two books of the trilogy – at least at this moment when this part of the saga has left me hanging! Shocking I know. I didn’t expect to read it or like it or admit to either…having dismissed it as popular trash. I never had an interest when it appeared that everyone was talking about it, but then one night this summer, sleeping in a guest room at my brother’s for the weekend, there it was in a pile of books next to my pillow.

I picked it up out of curiosity, reading – or more accurately skimming through – the first third of the book when something even more curious happened. I found I wasn’t reading it alone, for the sole purpose of my late night entertainment – the sex scenes tantalizing as they were – but rather with the Spirit within urging me to get past the judgements in my mind about what I considered to be aberrant  sex and a fixation on the body.

The thought came that this might be a good way to allow my judgements about the kinky sex, the need for control, the dissent into darkness of an innocent young women, to rise… experiencing them in the safety of words on a page, much the same way as I did with images on a screen as I watched movies through the eyes of my inner Spirit, allowing my reactions to play out as experiences in my living room, rather than in my life.

I read the rest of the book in my normal thorough mode rather than in my previous cursory manner, and dare I say, I wanted more. The story became, not so much about an abnormal  indulgence of the senses, but an example of pleasure and pain as one; a tug of war between guilt, fear, punishment and shame on one side and non-judgement, forgiveness and a urning for love and healing on the other. It became a story of a journey out of darkness into the light, lead by innocence and a call for love.

I never expected to admit my indulgence publicly, and I certainly deemed this subject completely inappropriate for a spiritual blog…but here I am. I’m surprised as you are – proof that the Spirit truly can take ANYTHING we make and use it for it’s own purposes.

We are all on a journey out of the darkness of our own making, seeped in a well of our misperceptions, struggling to make sense out of a world that makes no sense, colored in shades of grey that define a life that can’t be defined in the absolute of black or white, but only by the light that shines on it. We’re led by the Innocence within that transforms and ultimately set us frees until we land in a place bathed in white, where no shades of grey exist.


PS. Does any of this make sense? Or am I 50 shades of confused?




Making Contact

Contact Somewhere within each of us, buried but not lost, is a yearning to hear the Voice spoken as one, used to pierce the veil of forgetting and remind us of who we really are. It calls us to join in a dialogue whose only purpose is to guide us home. This gentle Voice is ruthless in it’s pursuit of purpose, using anything to turn our attention to it’s consistent message of love, reminding us that we’re not lost, could never be lost, regardless of where or who we think we are.

Over thousands of years and countless journeys on this road that seems to go on forever on the timeline, but experienced only as now, comes a moment of contact that changes everything. For me it came as a 10 or 11 year old child when the teachings of my Catholic up bringing tried to tell me of a God of anger, punishment and sacrifice when all I could feel was His love. And so one day, smack in the middle of my Wednesday religious ed class,  I raised my hand and declared out loud, with an innocence I couldn’t betray, “But he’s a God of love. This can’t be true! ”

This knowing has never left me despite huge challenges along the way; disappointments I thought I’d never drop; detours that sucked me in time and time again and would have been meaningless except for the curiosity and openness of that child who declared, “This can’t be true!” I remember it still -many decades later – that moment when there was no doubt, when the child knew her innocence and could clearly hear the Voice of Love.

Is it surprising to any one of us that life with the ego interrupts a communication that was once so strong? We all get sucked into the character of the script we’re living, and as we do, the connection to the Voice gets weaker and so we stumble and gather up sad stories to tell ourselves and anyone who will listen.

I’m not interested anymore in your  tales of woe, or mine…except when they can be used to heal or inspire. As long as we believe the character is us – even a little – we’re living a divided life. I’m living one, like you are.

Somewhere along this path of awakening to our True Self and from the dream of characters we’ve all played in a never ending story of complex chaos, we ask for help. And the help meets us where we are, infiltrating our misadventures with reminders of a connection that can never be severed, and waits patiently until we can once again hear it’s soft Voice of Love, loud and clear, through the distractions we set before it.

Getting to loud and clear is a winding road tethered by the thinking of the world we learned so well and interferes with the connection we once knew. For most of us this is a long and arduous trip from which we’d never make it out alive, like a suicide mission we signed up for and then distracted we were with playthings and magic tricks that diverted our undisciplined attention from what was really going on.

This trip is different. We made contact, and that’s all that needed to guide us back on course; back on a road that seems to twist and turn, get blocked and broken, filled with obstacles that impede our way, often dark and lonely until a break through the thick canopy of dreams comes a clearing, a light to point the way to the next rest area where we can be still a while and lighten our load, bruised but not broken, graced with a strength we didn’t know we had. Now, revitalized and inspired, we set out once more.


Would love it if you’d share your thoughts or comments below!!!

We’ll See

Che Sara Sara

I haven’t written a blog post here since April 4th. I don’t really know why except to say I just wasn’t inspired to do so – which surprised me because normally I have all kinds of ideas swimming in my head that I want to write about and share with you, so please forgive me for my silence. I have no doubt you will.

Actually, I thought it was a month since my last post, not almost two! I totally lost track of time – completely understandable when dedicated to a path that tells us that time doesn’t really exist.

Still, the old me would have judged myself as being irresponsible, uncommitted, undisciplined, blah, blah, blah. The “me” that’s writing this knows better.

I may not know why or what anything is for, but I do know I can’t judge it.  I can’t judge it because I don’t know what anything is for. Funny how the truth always makes a complete circle and the beginning is the end. As the Course says, this is a journey without distance.

“The journey to God is merely the reawakening of the knowledge of where you are always, and what you are forever. It is a journey without distance to a goal that has never changed”    T 8. VI. 9

So if I can’t judge anything because I don’t know what anything is for, then how can I tell if something that I wanted to happen didn’t or if something happened that I didn’t want to happen is a good or bad thing?

If either scenario caused me to be attached to the outcome, or suffer in any way, I’d be suffering for no good reason…because I can’t judge what anything is for. I have plenty of life experience, as I know you do, when I thought something that happened was a good thing, that turned into a  bad thing, that turned into something else once again. The specifics don’t really matter, as beautifully exemplified by this famous story of the Zen monk…O

One day a Zen monk walks into the village and there’s great jubilation. He inquires into what’s happening and the villagers tell him that they’ve acquired a new horse; a symbol of wealth and status at the time. They tell him how great it is that they have this horse and all he does is shrug his shoulders:

“we’ll see…”
He comes back a few days later and a group of the villagers have crowded around an injured boy. The zen monk finds out that the boy was riding the new horse, fell off and broke his leg. The villagers shake their heads, worried and tell him how terrible this is. He shrugs:
“we’ll see…”
A few weeks later the monk returns to the village; this time, there is great commotion…a war has broken out between the territories. All the male villagers must go and fight, except for the boy with the broken leg, which has not yet healed. ‘Isn’t it wonderful that he broke his leg…now his life has been spared’, exclaim the villagers. The monk smiles and shrugs:
“we’ll see…”
Which reminds me of the famous saying in songs and films…”Che sara sara”
And in the complete acceptance of what will be will be, comes a sweet surrender to what is. This is where peace lives.
It is my intention to write more often…but we’ll have to see.