Author: Debra Basham

  • Saved by the Horn

    Sacred Stories

    This man’s memory of his having being saved by a horn honk is still alive after over fifty years. He writes:

    I was driving north on Bayshore for a date with my then-girlfriend. The speed limit was 55. Traffic was, as usual, heavy. I was listening to the radio and pretty-much lost in thought. I heard a horn honk. I looked up just in time to see that the traffic had come to a full stop in front of me. I jammed on the brakes and just barely managed to stop before rear-ending the guy in front of me. I looked around to see whom I should thank for the warning honk. No one was paying any attention at all to me. My sense has always been that the sound of the horn was “other dimensional.”

  • Great Things Come in Small Packages!


    When I found out I was going to be a grandma, I went kicking and screaming. I was only 39 years old, and I was way too busy to be a grandmother. 
    Everything changed 26 years ago today, when I held Bradley Joseph Zelenak for the first time. He truly is an “Angel Baby!”

    “Hi, I’m your Gammie,” slipped off my tongue like velvet when his newborn eyes looked into mine, and the euphemism “Gammie” stuck. To this day, all three of my grandchildren, plus many others who know me as their grandmother call me Gammie. 
    (See my previous post: Truly Meaningful Gifts.) 
    It is not uncommon to resist some of the best things life is bringing our way. Perhaps that is because we truly do not recognize the blessings until we have received them. 
    For sure, being Gammie has been (and is) one of my greatest joys. 
    I will try to remember you can welcome what you resist. Great things come in small packages!
  • Thanks, Chrissie!

    Sacred Stories

    She went swimming one day, and as she was looking at the clouds, she thought, “I should have asked Chrissie when she was alive, that once she passed, I would know what that sign might be.”

    So she thought, “Okay, Chrissie, just give me a sign, any sign.”

    As she was driving home, there was a huge rainbow in the sky…

    “Thanks, Chrissie!”

    rainbow michigan city lighthouse sept 2015

    How often we might have thought something was too late, then realized those who have passed on are right here with us.

  • Truly Meaningful Gifts

    The idea of meaningful gifts has been on my mind and in my heart for a good long while. December 13, 2015, I shared a talk about the subject when I was guest speaker at Pilgrim Congregational Church. As usual, none of my pre-thinking did anything to inoculate me from enough tears to sink a battleship over the exchange of v-e-r-y meaningful gifts with family on Christmas day.
    I love that our daughter and her kids draw names and make hand-crafted gifts. Witnessing this exchange has been such a joy in the past, last Christmas we decided to get in on the fun this year. A few of the truly remarkable gifts from this year included: arm-knitted infinity scarfs; a metal American flag; personalized bulletin board; a kitchen herb garden; colorful crayon art; and a year of monthly snacks! 

    For six-weeks this past summer I attended Write2TheEnd focused on learning self-publishing skills. I was combining skill development with the creation of my gift for grandson, Bradley—a book of memories!
    Beyond my wildest imagination, Bradley was at the same time creating an audio of words of love and affirmation from family and friends he put over special relaxation music, including some by my dear friend Pamela Chappell.

    I loved each contribution, and I love every one of you who helped make this very meaningful gift. I hope you will enjoy Grandson Adam’s words (based on the second “M” in G-A-M-M-I-E):
    My Gammie, My Grandmother, My Hero, My Role Model, My Go-To, My Advice Giver, My Friend, My Family, My Guardian, My Laughter, My Fat Camp Instructor, My World Traveler, My Picture Taker, My Massage Therapist, My Healing Touch, My Counselor, My Helping Hand, My Sous Chef, My Cinnamon Toast Maker, My Supporter, My Biggest Fan, My Moon, My Red Balloon, My Minister, My Mentor, My Author, My One and Only Gammie.
    OK, I admit I cried so hard my eyes hurt as I opened my heart and let the love flow in. Fortunately, we recognize how cathartic tears can be.Thank you, everyone, for giving and receiving truly meaningful gifts!
    (You might appreciate knowing Bradley and I giving these gifts to one another this year was a total “God-thing.” I did not draw Brad’s name, nor did he draw mine! We each ended up with the others name because two other family members initiated a trade. The  resulting in our having this magical opportunity to express our deepest love for one another.) 
  • Jesus Healed Me!

    Sacred Stories

    Her co-worker’s daughter was having routine surgery in another state when the call came through with shocking news. “We are losing her!”

    Feeling totally helpless to do anything for her daughter, the mother asked her co-worker to please pray.

    Seeking a quiet space, the co-worker centered herself, and began to send healing intention. Much to her surprise, she had a powerful image of Jesus pop into her mind. This was not a normal religious icon for her, and she watched with great interest as Jesus went to the side of the operating table and began to work with the patient.

    Moments later, another call affirmed what she had seen happening, “She made it!”

    Although the woman did not share the images she had seen that day as she prayed for her co-worker’s daughter, several years later, she had the opportunity to meet this daughter. The daughter spontaneously burst into a description of the experience she had with Jesus while she had been in surgery—detailed as it had been seen by the co-worker of her mother.

    Jesus
    She is not sure why Jesus chose to come to her, but she has continued to always call on Jesus when she is asked for healing intention.

  • Barred Owl

    Sacred Stories

    Traveling to visit a friend in Florida, she missed the road and ended up on a two-track where she had a surprise encounter with a barred owl.

    This visit turned out to be their last; her friend passed away before they would be together again.

    Walking on the beach at home, she came upon a most unusual find: a dead barred owl. She was instantly reminded of the owl she had seen on the way to visit her friend, and she recognized this communication through nature.
    barred owl

  • 10-Year Itch


    OMG – I just finished listening to Marie Forleo’s interview with Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love. In the interview, Gilbert is talking about Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear. As a writer, I want to steal so many of her lines, but as a human being with a past littered with broken dreams, and crippled by feelings of failure, I want to curl up in her message and suck my thumb.
    Ten years ago this month, we closed the doors at the Holistic Alliance. I knew letting that dream of a holistic center here in my home town of Saint Joseph, Michigan, go had been horribly painful, but I realized listening to Elizabeth that I had let what she calls the “murderer of all good things” stop me in my tracks: perfectionism. 
    Gilbert called perfectionism a serial killer, saying it goes around killing joy, spontaneity, wonder, grace, and humility. She said perfectionism is fear in high-heeled shoes….
    I wonder what I would have written had I been blogging at that time of my life. Something therapeutic occurs when you put your innermost tender parts out there for the world to witness.
    It is much different to suck your thumb in public.
    After listening to the interview, I asked Joel (Joel Bowman is the co-creator of Subtle Communication Systems) if Big Magic had helped him forgive us for not having our dreams for SCS come true. His reply was somewhat sobering: “I never had a sense of blame for SCS. My blame is more for things I haven’t tried, or perhaps what we haven’t tried, rather than things we did that didn’t succeed.” 
    Gilbert said all love eventually becomes help and quoted her own mother’s advice: “Done is better than good.” 
    Today, with Big Magic, I am more courageous about looking back. The dream of weaving together the threads of body, mind, and spirit is still alive in my heart—and every day you can look around in the world and see how much progress has been made. Fortunately, hearts only break in one direction: open. 
    My heart is more open to celebrating each and every one of the many who came through the doors at 100 Church Street and found something meaningful there. I am thinking about those who studied energy medicine and the power of language with Joel and me. I love you all.
    I vow to let my heart once again have wings and I am willing to stand tall and dance again with inspiration. Lets see what comes from that in the coming year. And so it is…
  • Happy Birthday Candle

    Sacred Stories

    His baby sister died when she was only three days old. When her birthday rolled around, his mother made a cake, put one candle on it, lit the candle, and the family sang happy birthday.

    When they finished singing, the candle went out.

    birthday cake one candle lit

    Sometimes we are able to let our hearts help our heads understand that amazing things are just natural when you recognize the true nature of life.

  • Sunset of Life


    Time is such an odd commodity. Some moments seem like days, and some years seem like moments. Without a doubt, my heart is tender right now with the passing of so many of late. 
    This morning, I posted a controversial commercial on Facebook about an elder man who faked his death to get his family all together for Christmas. You can take a look and decide for yourself if you think it extreme, cruel, or crazy, but making time to be with those you care about is none of these—it is vital.
    This month a term insurance policy I have had for over a decade has ended and the cost of the coverage has skyrocketed. I remember thinking last year, “If I am going to die soon, let it be while we have this policy in force.” Now, looking at the options, determining if it makes sense to pay this higher rate to keep the coverage, I said, “We know for sure we will collect at some point. Let’s pay the premium.” 
    I am not depressed in the face of all of the recent losses. If anything, the losses have allowed me to be more aware of the gift of each moment. The taste of my favorite tea, crawling into a warm bed, the smell of a busy kitchen—these each feel like precious opportunities given for me to savor. 

    If we were looking at chakra development, you might say we are intimately aware of the seventh chakra: the Crown. In, Anatomy of the Spirit, Caroline Myss writes: “Live in the Present Moment.” Myss says this is the chakra of the spirit: extreme unction, Keter. We need to be open and attentive to the constant guidance we receive each day.

    Rabbi Moshe Cordovero, in The Palm Tree of Devorah, writes: “One’s thoughts should be pure, one’s forehead should display no harshness, one’s ears should always turn to hear good, one’s eyes should distance themselves from noticing evil, always looking at the good, one’s nose should be free from the breath of anger, one’s face should always shine, and his mouth should express nothing except good.”

    When is this guidance not appropriate? Goodness, it seems we want to honor this energy every day of our lives. Of course, it may take facing the sunset of life to remember how important letting our face shine each day of our lives actually is….
  • My Dad

    Sacred Stories

    She went on retreat hoping to find some peace around the passing of her dad. At the end of the week, she shared these amazing confirmations with the others.

    “When I got to my room, my room mate had already chosen her bed. The one that was left for me had the photo of the St. Louis arch. My dad’s name was Louis.”
    Louis

    “Checking in at the community room, the wind chime on the porch was a simple settling tank—a common item in my childhood as my dad was a welder!”
    settling tank windchime

    “Out for a walk, I came upon a simple garden stone with just the word WISH: my dad’s nickname!”
    Wish

    When she arrived home, she learned that while she was on retreat, her 27 year-old son posted a picture from 22 years prior on his Facebook page: a vacation with Grandpa, to Grandpa’s hometown in Pennsylvania.

    “It was as if my son heard the calling, too, and he responded to it. The the universe conspires to make things happen.”