Debra Basham

Living and Loving

Tag: coronavirus

  • Blessings “Raining” Down

    John and I rallied from Covid sufficiently to make the trip to Tennessee for our granddaughter’s wedding. There are sooooooo many significant points about this wedding.

    Courtney’s brother, Brad, was on emergency stand-by to officiate if John and/or I were not recovered sufficiently to make the trip. He had just officiated at the wedding of a good friend. But Brad told me how relieved he was to not have to do it! And he said this was his favorite line in the ceremony:

    We have gathered here, not to create a union, for that union already exists. The soul’s commitment to marry another happens long before the legal wedding day and in truth we have been invited here to witness the love already affirmed between Courtney and Josh…

    That love had already created our great-grandson, 8 month old Jackson, who was brought to the altar by Gampie (John) in a little red wagon with a sign on the back announcing proudly, “Here comes the love of your life!”

    These two are absolutely adorable!

    Here we are recessing with Jackson.



    A friend (who has been very concerned about John and me) wondered aloud if it would be more considerate to postpone the wedding, given the current surge in cases. In truth, Courtney did postpone her wedding because I have been absolutely terrified of Covid.

    Courtney and Josh were willing to wait 18 months to get married so that I would officiate their ceremony.

    This is the oddest part….

    I am not sure I could have officiated if John and I had not just recovered from Covid.

    You see, all along it has been my heart’s desire to neither get nor give the coronavirus.

    Because those risks were removed for me, I was able to be fully present with Courtney and Josh on their wedding day.

    It was a beautiful venue, and she wanted the ceremony to be outdoors, but the skies opened up and it rained all afternoon!

    As an interfaith minister, I learned that rain on your wedding day is said to be blessings “raining” down from great spirit.

    I also found this online: Rain on your wedding day is considered good luck because it signifies that your marriage will last. As you know, a knot that becomes wet is extremely hard to untie – therefore, when you “tie the knot” on a rainy day, your marriage is supposedly just as hard to unravel!

    It is my pleasure to present to you for the first time, my granddaughter, and her husband: Courtney and Josh Yarber!

  • The Collective

    When I picked up the spoon off the napkin to stir my morning tea, a huge ant fell out onto the kitchen counter. I carefully picked it up with the napkin, and carried it out onto the porch.

    Looking up “ant as animal totem” I was surprised to see a reference to MOLD:

    The plant spirit medicine of mold is in partnership with Ant medicine and it teaches of the psychedelic dimensions of Earth.

    The insect nation is in direct communication with such dimensions which is why it is often very disconcerting to encounter Dragonfly, Ant, Spider, and all the other tiny crawlers of Earth.

    (Regular readers of Yellow Brick Road know we had quite the dance with mold.)

    Coming back to get my tea, I saw a long-legged spider in the sink. I grabbed a tissue and carefully delivered the spider to the porch as well. Very unusual happenings both of these….

    The following morning, another (near-identical) spider was in the sink!

    Over the past week I have been gifting contents from my professional office. While it was not an easy decision to give up a formal practice space, I have already had many confirmations that opportunities abound to love, serve, and remember, as Betty Lue and Robert (Reunion) taught us to sing.

    My massage table went to Tina at Creative Therapy School of Massage.

    The elephant statue was dropped off to Kimberly.

    It has been my hope that the love and healing related to each item and all of our history will continue to bless the world with remembered wholeness.

    I had an odd interaction when I dropped off the door name plate to one colleague. Knowing she had last expressed not having been vaccinated, I put on my mask and offered a hug. “No hugs,” she replied. “I have to protect you.” The words did not match the energy.

    “I am masked to protect you,” I responded.

    “No hugs,” she repeated, shaking her head.

    I got back into my car feeling some sadness. I was very grateful our next delivery was to drop off the afghan with Jesus surrounded all the forest creatures. It was a wonderful visit…. complete with hugs.

    One of the members of the Zen Empty Circle shared the stressful situation with his in-laws, who neither mask nor choose to be vaccinated against the coronavirus — understandably wanting his young daughter to come spend time with them. They miss her. He does not feel comfortable allowing her to go. The meditation teacher said, “Remember you are not keeping her from them, you are protecting her from the virus.”

    In our own family we have this dynamic.

    In many families, this polarized world view expresses itself.

    What will our post-pandemic world be? The wondering comes if we will we be like the Sneetches (Dr. Seuss) and get over ourselves, but at a cost like when McBean drives away with the Sneetches‘ cash, exclaiming, “They never will learn. No. You can’t teach a Sneetch.”

    It did not feel as though she refused a hug “to protect me” but I do know she is not a Sneetch, and neither am I….

    If you want to go fast,
    go alone.
    If you want to go far,
    go together.

    ~ African Proverb
    (The tag line on the ant totem reading.)

  • Hand-in-Hand

    With all that takes place in our lives,
    it can sometimes be easy to overlook the fact that
    we’re part of something greater than ourselves —
    a collective consciousness, the Universe, a greater cause.

    ~ Daily Om

    The March 2021 skies over Pine Island, near Ft. Myers, in Southwest Florida (winter home of this snowbird) demonstrate a very important fact: light is present within darkness.


    During the past few weeks of “the season,” instead of the usual blue skies, the horizon was often dotted with dark, billowy, ominous-looking bumps of clouds with amazing streams of light simultaneously peeking out. Some clear, some bright, some pinkish-orange enough to resemble remnants of a dwindling campfire…. Those glowing embers that you only see late, late—late enough that you think you should give up and go to bed. Despite the chill, you are drawn to sit where you are as a witness to what is dying.

    For the past three years I have been in a study group looking at the spiritual phenomena of light within the darkness.

    I am attending and helping Zoom host a meditation retreat this week.


    As I was doing walking meditation early, I saw a black stone on the sidewalk. I noticed it but did not pick it up. Continuing, about half a block up, also on the sidewalk, I found a white stone. Neither of these were located with anything similar nearby. Seeing the white stone, I looped back and also picked up the black one. Light in the darkness.


    ((Confession, this is an article scheduled for publication in May. But the time for me to share it with you is NOW.))

    Every religion, Western and Eastern philosophy, and each individual artistic world view provides commentary on this subject of light in the darkness.

      The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. John 1:5

      Look at how a single candle can both defy and define the darkness. Anne Frank

      I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars. Og Mandino

      We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light. Plato

      Don’t fight darkness – bring the light, and darkness will disappear. Maharishi Mahesh Yogi

    In an audio presentation, Living and Dying, Ram Dass says about his work with people as they were dying: I watch some people who are able to open to the new stage and say, “Ah, so….” and those people don’t suffer. And then I watch somebody who looks at the shoes in the closet that they’ll never wear again and sits around feeling sorry because they can’t wear the shoes anymore. They’re holding onto the model of who they were a moment ago. A moment ago, they were somebody wearing those shoes, and now they are not wearing those shoes.

    I have been wondering about a similar phenomenon related to the pandemic. It is undeniable that the coronavirus has brough considerable darkness. (Another of our friends passed the day I was writing this article, in Florida, and then a 42-year-old relative, father-of-five, in Michigan.)

    Have you also been able to see the light this global pandemic has brought to you over this last year?

    My online search of “benefits of the pandemic” produced a lot of evidence of light within the darkness. Reduction of the carbon foot print made every list I read. Improved health and cost-savings from less eating out and more home-cooked meals was another. Parents spending more time with children; partners having more time together; time for reflection and opportunity to reevaluate your life. Within each of these is both light and darkness.

    It has been said about picking up a stick: you pick up both ends.

    What Buddhism calls wisdom mind is the recognition that only light has ultimate reality. Niels Bohr, a Danish physicist who made foundational contributions to understanding atomic structure and quantum theory, says you do not go into a room and look for a “dark” switch. The switch you are searching for is the “light” switch. Of course, with that switch you are either turning the light on or off….

    Ram Dass wrote of a friend’s passing.

    “Well, you know what I know. Probably I won’t see you again in this body, so, stay conscious.” And I left.

    Her husband called me the next morning at 7:30, and said she died during the night.

    And he said her dying was just like ink being poured into water. It was just expanding outward. He said, “I came away from her death with one of the deepest experiences of peace I’d ever had in my life.”

    We are a collective witness to the dark and the light, to what is being born and what is dying.

    Some individuals have hated working from home. Some students have been miserable with online schooling. Some of us have grown calmer, others catastrophically chaotic. Attitudes reflect the moment-by-moment position of the light switch.

    Less and less frequently do I hear people yearning for things to get back to normal, but often people express specifics of what they are eager to resume. I made up a set of rules for “distant dominoes” with good friends that live down the street from us in Michigan and also winter on the same street in Florida.

    While in Florida, the four of us drove across the state to receive our first (and second) vaccines. We expressed excitement to once again safely play dominoes by the original Basham house rules, sitting around a table touching the tiles. We agreed we will all likely needed a refresher….

    This snowbird gleefully anticipated being able to meet our great-grandson, Jackson (born December 28), on our trek north. I could almost smell his baby breath. Almost feel the weight of him. Almost hear his coo….

    *Note – It was exquisite!


    Awareness of the collective “benefit” of our collective glee, relief, appreciation, and joy almost takes my breath away….

    Just as those clouds on the Florida horizon revealed the truth of light within the darkness, we are a collective witness to the dying of what was and the collective welcoming of what is.

    We have no need to fret over an unworn pair of shoes.

    We can join together and blissfully walk barefoot hand-in-hand on the beach….

  • In My Life

      You CAN attend to these things — to the blizzard, to the hurricane, to the forest fire, to the automobile accident, to the volcanic eruption, to the political hate-throwing — with an open heart. You can respond to these with a consciousness that refuses to be drawn in with fear, but instead comes forth to attend. It’s very helpful to remember, as it’s often said: ‘This too shall pass.’ But you cannot hide yourself and say, ‘Well, it will pass, so I don’t have to pay any attention to it.’ It will pass, and it still must be attended to. ~ Aaron

    Sweeping under beds, cleaning beneath cushions, emptying the jar with a half-teaspoon of salsa…. I am mindfully paying attention to pre-packing and cleaning in preparation for our heading home. Always mixed feelings about leaving Florida, but before the pandemic these snowbirds’ twinges of leave-taking were tempered by the lovingly longing to be with family in Tennessee and visiting with friends over breakfast or lunch in Indy.

    The Beatles long ago named a song (In My Life) after the title of this blog post. Here is the opening:

    There are places I’ll remember
    All my life though some have changed
    Some forever, not for better
    Some have gone and some remain

    April, 2020, John and I drove straight through from Florida to Michigan, and did not even stop in Tennessee.

    November, 2021, we stopped for one overnight but stayed in a hotel. Our brief time together was somewhat stressful. Only the cats seemed unaware of the unspoken perspectives that separated us more than the safe-distancing and masks.

    John and I are now 9-days post our second vaccine, and we will be just under the recommended two-week wait time when we get to Smyrna on Saturday.

    We are so excited that when we get home on Monday, we will be able to come together safely with others we love who are also fully vaccinated. Look out Janis and Larry. It is going to be one heck of a hug-fest!

    Yesterday morning as I placed puzzle pieces and sipped tea, a “stream-of-consciousness” came through. I shared it with John, and with Linda B/G, who said, “Maybe it is important to share this now. Last year, lots of people were speaking up about this. Not so much right now, but it needs to be said.”

    As she spoke, my iPhone popped in with a “notification” of the federal government having to consider a mask mandate. People are ignoring the guidelines, refusing to avoid non-essential travel. Continuing to gather in large numbers without safe-distancing or masks, and the numbers of covid-19 cases sadly are increasing again.

    This is what came through:

      Open letter to my friends, family, neighbors, and total strangers who have chosen not to mask, safe-distance and/or be vaccinated to help curtain the spread of this coronavirus.

      I am a 71 year old woman enjoying an amazing quality of life given how I began. My mother had syphilis when I was in utero. She spent her entire pregnancy with me fearful of any damage this sexually transmitted disease might do to me, a result of my father’s indiscretion.

      When I was five years old, I was hospitalized and treated for polio. Never having spent one night away from my mother previously, I was placed in the pediatric unit at the hospital in isolation. When my mom would come, she was on the other side of the glass wall. At the ripe old age of 71 years, I can still feel my spindly legs holding me up as my urchin thin arms reached toward her devastated face.

      A serious auto accident at age 12, resulted in months on crutches, and I still wear the scars from the stitches necessary to reattach the flesh to my forehead.

      At age 62, a 22 cm ovarian mass was removed, along with all of my feminine parts. I spent some time in the cardiac intensive care unit, what I call the high rent district, a result of aFib, most serious of the post-surgical complications.

      My blood pressure can spike and my pulse will routinely be well over 100 at just a routine doctor visit.

      Am I afraid of dying? I don’t think so. Do I have PTSD around medical processes? Obviously…

      I have spent the past 12 months doing everything I can to avoid “getting or giving” this novel virus that has killed so many, left many others with life-limiting complications, and wreaked havoc with our global economy, but my investment in living a long and healthy life didn’t begin in 2020.

      I have spent 71 years, 72 if you count the time I was in my mothers womb, choosing life.

      This may be the first time in my life I’ve ever asked you to help take care of me. I know the masks are hot. I know the bands pull on my ears. I know voices are muffled, and deaf people can’t read lips.

      I know we can’t see one another smile.

      But this morning I got to see the moon and the sun in the sky together. I got to wake up with my husband of 55 years lying in bed next to me snoring.

      I know I won’t stay in this body forever, but I really don’t want someone’s political view or stubborn independent streak, or aversion to temporary discomfort to end my life unnecessarily. And I don’t want to end someone else’s life unnecessarily.

      Is it my destiny to have you give me a deadly virus? Perhaps…

      Or perhaps it’s my destiny to ask you not to….

    All these places have their moments
    With lovers and friends I still can recall
    Some are dead and some are living
    In my life I’ve loved them all

    Some are dead from this virus…. including my dear friend, Bonnie, the first casualty in my life. And Fred, the second. Patty’s mom. Four high-school classmates (all in one week in December). And Jackson’s Paw Paw…

    Perhaps it was their destiny to die of something preventable.

    Some are living….

    In my life I’ve loved them all.


  • What Remains is Enough

    There’s going to be pain that feels overwhelming.
    There are going to be situations
    that come up where
    we just suddenly freeze up and say,
    “I don’t know how to do this.”

    ~ Barbara Brodsky

    This is certainly a time of accepting what is and knowing that what is, is enough. The current version of this process began for me last March when Lee County, Florida, experienced it’s first fatality from a confirmed community-transmitted case of the coronavirus.

    As John and I began to self-isolate, I would gently remind myself of the truth: we can live with what we have for a long time. We can hold the desire for something else with compassion. We can notice the voice inside that habitually insists, “I want it this way!”

    I was naïve enough at that time to see everyone doing what was quite difficult for a short period of time, so together we could quickly move through this pandemic with grace and ease.

    Of course, I notice subtle judgment about those who continue having big gatherings, “We could be done with this if THEY would do what is needed.”

    I watch mindfulness to conserve.

    I still move a new sheet of paper towel from “use with food” to “use to clean,” rather than grab a clean sheet and then toss it. In the toilet, I limit most wipes to four squares, if you know what I mean.


    Okay. I don’t know how to do this.
    Can I give myself permission
    not to know how to do it?

    And then finally
    I can come to the part that says,
    “Yes, I do know how to do this.”

    ~ Barbara Brodsky

    As we traveled from Michigan to Florida this past weekend, we took what we learned from our trip home last April. We had food, water, and potty preparations in the van with us. I used safe protocol when we had to stop for fuel.

    We opted for a Zoom Thanksgiving with my sister, Janis, and brother-in-love, Larry.

    We chose to stay in a hotel near Stacey, and to wear two masks while visiting with Stacey and Doug, Brad and Christina, and Adam — and Baxter and the cats!!!


    Later today I will make a sign for the lanai door here on Bounty Lane saying we are safe-sheltering. Not at all our normal, not at all our desired — but enough.

    I have some curiosity about those who have tested positive and are navigating the virus but have requested that information not be shared. My wondering about it is, “Are they experiencing guilty feelings about having contracted this virus?”

    We played our first Zoom dominoes game last evening with Linda and Larry while we are here on Bounty Lane and they are still at Lot 101 at home in Glenaire. While our location has changed, much remains the same.

    The theme of our meditation retreats has been about what remains.

    What remains in my cupboard? What remains as we continue to navigate a global pandemic? What remains when a loved one passes?

    What remains is LOVE. What always remains is LOVE. And LOVE is enough.

    It was great to take Michigan apples to Stacey. It was wonderful to deliver her favorite sauerkraut casserole. We loved seeing the beautiful improvements to their home. It was sweet to share homemade caramel corn with Christina.


    The ego doesn’t
    know how to do this,
    but the deeper self does.

    The heart mind,
    the wisdom and compassion heart,
    knows how to do it.

    ~ Barbara Brodsky

    We have already started getting mail here. In addition to having sent John his usual insulting (it’s a game they have played for years!) birthday card, Lee Mapes sent us a very impressive Christmas card, appropriate for snowbirds!



    And he gifted us with an Echo Show 8!

    Lee is a loyal friend, but it is not about what he buys (although he is generous that way too). Lee remains. Lee’s love remains.

    Lee navigated Stacey’s adolescence with us as John was on the road for Morton Shoes. Early one Sunday morning he went to our house in Saint Joseph, broke into our garage to get the suitcases that were inadvertently left there, and drove them to Midway Airport in Chicago.

    I took him to the hospital when he had hernia surgery. I brought him to our home and cared for him until he was able to go home. Stacey is Lee’s legal and medical representative.

    There is enough love, enough generosity, enough wisdom and kindness to get through this with grace and ease, regardless of how long it takes, because what remains is enough….

  • The Last Page

    Every day we pray for the willingness
    to make sane choices about our lives.

    ~ from the book Answers in the Heart

    We will be having left-over Thanksgiving for dinner tonight. Last evening, John and I shared the traditional fare with Janis and Larry!

    We bought the turkey. She roasted it. She made deviled eggs and gluten-free brownies. I made mashed potatoes, corn (cut off the cob), and lemon pie. We each steamed garden peas, and we made our own gravy. Larry shared his cranberry sauce with John.

    I even included two cloth Thanksgiving napkins along with my contributions. And, of course, chocolate chip cookies for Larry.

    Our dining room was on ZOOM, where we could see one another, and hear first-hand the murmurings and moans. The food was delicious, and the company was delightful. True thanksgiving.


    The four of us have been very mindful to avoid unnecessary exposure to the coronavirus. We mutually decided virtual was the best choice. It was Larry’s first Zoom experience. He said we will definitely have dinner together via Zoom while John and I are in Florida for the winter.

    I finished another journal.

    A mixture of emotions always accompanies the ritual of writing the date of the last entry on the cover. I chose to let a poem be my final entry.

    Truth-be-told, the poem was begun on the evening of November 21, 2020, and completed on the morning of November, 22, 2020.

    Perhaps the poem, like our virtual thanksgiving, is a bridge:

      The Last Page

      Years of journals
      Pages yellowed from
      Decades of moments
      Unfolding like
      Butterfly’s virgin wings

      Each new volume
      Filled with possibilities
      Nothing hidden
      Raw experience splayed out
      Telling the ancient tales

      Momentous occasions
      Now lie perfectly flat
      Letters etched with
      Precious precision
      Fading with great haste

      Someday perhaps
      These words will land
      Upon lips of one who can
      Treasure what was
      Just because it still is

      … within the heart

      Debra Basham 11-22-2020

    The first page of the new journal begins with: One week from today we expect to head to Florida. Willing to have all of that go easily and safely. The greatest unknown is seeing the kids. Weather will play a role in all of that.


    Word for the Day
    What gives me hope
    is that life unfailingly responds
    to the advances of love.

    ~ Nipun Mehta

    The final words on that first page in the new journal are from the “voice” (what I call Holy Spirit):

    Intend, invite, inspire!

    We are helping you.

    Remember, your faith is verifiable.

  • “Keeping Quiet”

      Deep Spring Center
      Thought for Today

      When you stay in the relative reality box, you create the kind of fights with each other, ‘I’m right.’ ‘No, I’m right.’ ‘No, I’m right.’ You can’t hear each other. You become more and more polarized. And this of course is consonant with the lower stages of consciousness, the magical consciousness that believes that somehow it can prove to everybody that it’s always right. I think you all know that one! If you don’t remember it in your own experience, go and find a 2-year-old. It’s very much engrossed in the magical consciousness and very certain that it’s always right. Slowly you begin to open out, and as the stage of consciousness rises you move more into the openness that can view infinite possibilities. ~ Aaron

    From my journal this morning:

    D: I fully recognize the thought, “when I make a choice that is right for me, it is right for everyone,” as a relative reality thought. The thought holds a subtle distortion because of the separate self.

    What is whispering to me is awareness of the interconnection of everything. Like waves in an ocean.

    So how do I navigate?

    V: The awakened heart knows one person is planning a picnic — a big event serving lots of people. A “thank you” event to many, for great service to humanity. That heart also knows the farmers in the region need rain. The time is crucial. The seed has been planted but rain is needed to bring forth the sprout. Many will feed upon the bread made from the farmers’ wheat.

    What happens to support highest good for all beings?

    D: This is exactly what I am asking!

    V: In relative reality, a conflict-of-interest seems to exist. This is not real.

    Imagine an all-night, slow, steady rain. Imagine the rain nourishing the soil and causing the conditions that bring forth a healthy harvest. Now imagine the sun coming up, a light breeze blows over the face of the earth, drying up the surface moisture. The picnic takes place now on a ground that is well-watered.

    When you are drawn to notice a seeming “conflict-of-interest” simply greet the situation with an open heart, saying, “Hello, Teacher.”

    All of the elements: earth, air, fire, water, and energy — they all know how to collaborate. You are made of these elements. You do know what to do for the highest good of all beings, and harm to none.

    As Aaron says in the opening quotation, slowly, you begin to open out, and as the stage of consciousness rises you move more into the openness that can view infinite possibilities.

    From Neale Donald Walsch:

      On this day of your life I believe God wants you to know that most dramatic conflicts are perhaps those that take place not between men, but between a man and himself.

      What are you battling with right now? What unwanted habit? What undesirable behavior? What old pattern? Claim victory over these, and your entire life can change.

    Last evening I looked up and saw a soft pink haze in the western sky. I stepped out on the front porch and saw a rainbow out to the north. I grabbed my phone and took a photo, and as I turned around the western sky was ablaze with color.


    On May 11, 2020, the poem of the day was “Keeping Quiet” by Pablo Neruda. Please go to Duke Trinity College and read the entire poem. Pablo Neruda, a Chilean poet-diplomat and politician who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1971. He transitioned from this earth plane in 1973, but “Keeping Quiet” is his perfect gift for us at this time. Sharing here the next to the last stanza:

    If we were not so single-minded
    about keeping our lives moving,
    and for once could do nothing,
    perhaps a huge silence
    might interrupt this sadness
    of never understanding ourselves
    and of threatening ourselves with death.
    Perhaps the earth can teach us
    as when everything seems dead
    and later proves to be alive.

    You will want to visit Duke Trinity College to read the entire poem.

    Michigan has gone back under stay-safe-at-home orders as the numbers of coronavirus cases from community contact skyrocket. This is happening across the globe as the second wave of the pandemic crests.

    Humanity is invited by this “teacher” to view infinite possibilities as we are keeping quiet….

  • Bless the Sea Snakes

    Joel has been having ongoing challenges with his gmail account. I reached out to Rebecca, our wonderful webmaster, and she is on it. When he wrote saying, “I think I must have been cursed by the gods of the internet. What did I ever do to them….” I wrote back:

    “Well, bless the sea snakes!!!! Rebecca is going to see if Geek Squad can help her help you!”

    The following morning, Joel responded:

    I don’t remember how the sea snakes got in this. They play a prominent role in Coleridge’s “Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner.” Everyone on the ship has died except for the “hero,” and the ship is floundering and adrift. The only person left alive on board is about to die. He has to bite his tongue to have enough moisture in his mouth to speak, but with what he thinks will be his last words, he blesses the sea snakes surrounding the vessel. With the blessing, the wind comes up, and the ship makes it back to England.

    Recently I was listening to a dharma talk by Kyoun Sokuzan. Sokuzan met Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche, a preeminent teacher of Tibetan Buddhism, in late 1973 and became a student. In 1974, Sokuzan attended the first session of Naropa Institute in Boulder, Colorado. In 1975, he established the Dharma Study Group of Battle Creek, Michigan. The group is currently meeting via Zoom. When someone asked Sokuzan if we need protection from the coronavirus, Sokuzan answered, “You don’t need protection, but you ask for protection. You participate in the realm you are in.”

    Continuing, “Everything is temporary. Work with it however it shows up in your neighborhood.”

    This all comes as I see my mind grasping for a safe way to be with friends and family. I hear Sokuzan say, “Go into the darkness. That is where the light is.”

    Human experience is polarized. I was one of those odd ducks who was anti-abortion and pro-legalization of abortion. A woman desperate not to birth a baby will take dangerous measures to end that pregnancy. Coat hangers are just one… Truth. Some people argue that making abortion legal motivates more women to choose that option. This is just not truth. The same argument is happening around the legalization of marijuana. Truth?

    Sokuzan: “It’s all relative truth. You can’t see the truth.”

    A friend stopped by briefly yesterday, willing to do me a huge favor. I had placed the two chairs on our front porch at the furthest distance. I donned my cute little kitty mask (a gift from my sister, Janis) and went out onto the porch. As my friend got out of her car, she saw me in my mask. “Do you want me to put a mask on?” she asked. She had one in the car. I said I would appreciate her putting on a mask.

    My friend was obviously not comfortable in the mask she was wearing. Every few seconds she would need to adjust it. The mask just did not fit her face well. As I watched, I had the thought it was more like a thong than a bikini. I hate when my underpants ride up in the crack of my butt. I have never understood someone wearing a thong. Maybe it is like Erma Bombeck’s having said she does not eat chocolate cake — she just smears it on her hips and thighs because that is where it is going to end up!

    Early in the pandemic, I began making masks that are fun. Many of those iterations have been shared in previous posts. Why? Because, as Sokuzan says, “It’s all relative truth.”

    If my friend or I had been an asymptomatic spreader of the virus, would our actions have been enough to protect the other? Sokuzan said we don’t need protection but we do need to work with things however they are showing up.

    Sokuzan used a Buddhist teaching term I had not previously run into, unless I had heard it and did not yet fully embody the dharma these words are pointing to. Trycycle has an excellent article on the teaching if you are interested. Here is the link: “Drive all blames into one.” From the article:

    “Conveniently, blaming others allows us to avoid looking into our own role in the problems and conflicts we encounter. We look outward, but we do not look within. And even in looking outward, once we have assigned the blame, we go no further. So we do not get to the root of the problem. We stop short, satisfied that we are off the hook and someone else is at fault.”

    I think a lot about my family. I take drive all blames into one to heart. If we went for a visit (as we soooooo want to do) and one of them was an asymptomatic spreader, and John or I got ill and/or died, who would be to blame?

    “This slogan {drive all blames into one} is quite radical. Instead of blaming others, you blame yourself. Even if it is not your fault, you take the blame. It is important to distinguish this practice from neurotic self-blaming or the regretful fixation on your own mistakes and how much you are at fault. It also does not imply that you should not point out wrongdoing or blow the whistle on corruption. Instead, as you go about your life, you simply notice the urge to blame others and you reverse it.”

    If my action exposed me to the virus, not even the virus is to blame. But if my action exposed someone else to the virus, I am responsible. It is simply how things showed up in the neighborhood. Drive all blames into one….

    “Pay attention to how blaming arises and what patterns it takes. See what happens when you take on the blame yourself. Notice what changes in your own experience and in what you observe around you.”

    A friend rented a hotel room near her daughter’s cottage as the extended family gathered for the Labor Day weekend. My friend took her own provisions, and she was masked and maintained safe-distance as she joined them for the wonderful celebration of her grandson’s 25th birthday.

    Other friends are leaving this weekend to visit their son and family out of state. They, too, will stay in a hotel and enjoy time with the family out-of-doors.

    Soon, in the Northern hemisphere, it will be winter. “What then?” you might ask.

    Bless the sea snakes….

    Everything is temporary.

  • Order, Disorder, Reorder

    Twelve minutes late coming to join the Southern Circle Poets writing group, I have been transplanting some flowering things that have been blooming beautifully along the left edge of our driveway all summer. We are scheduled to have work begin tearing up the old concrete and blacktop, and putting in a continuous concrete driveway from the sidewalk to the door of our barn. John hopes it will work for shuffleboard!!!

    Yesterday when I mentioned my desire to transplant the flowering things, he queried as to if they were wildflowers or weeds. “What is the difference?” I asked. “Perhaps we just call them weeds because no one sells them at the garden shoppe.” They are beautiful, they are healthy, and they are contributing oxygen to the planet. It is worth a try to keep them alive….

    Simultaneously, I have been going through major disorder in my front bedroom/office/meditation hall. My HP PC crossed the rainbow bridge. (English: My desktop computer cannot be repaired.) I had big stuff tied to that PC: a big tower, a huge monitor, an external camera, a professional Brother laser printer, great-sounding Bose speakers. The PC’s valued accessories generated a need within me to hold onto it all when we downsized three years ago. And now what was is no more.



    Things have changed, and I am now working towards freeing up space. I will use my laptop as my ONLY computer. Unless you count my iPhone….

    So for days now I have been purging files to get the contents of four two-drawer file cabinets down to three.

    I am still somewhat in grief about my Brother printer. This has been a fantastic printer. I have cranked out client intake forms, NLP certificates, myriad lunch-and-learn handouts, and lots of poetry.

    Perhaps it has not yet been determined what will go or stay. Not only is this printer quite large, but the installation is on a CD and my laptop does not have a CD player. I know one can purchase an external CD player but I just don’t know if I want to accommodate the size of this printer.

    I will figure it out as I go along. I did determine that I can use my Bose speakers with my laptop when I want really good sound.

    Things are in disorder around schools. Two Midwestern universities announced on Tuesday that they will be modifying their fall plans because of the coronavirus pandemic. University of Notre Dame has suspended all in-person classes for at least two weeks due to the swell of coronavirus since students returned August 10. A letter from the President of Michigan State University stated: “Effective immediately, we are asking undergraduate students who planned to live in our residence halls this fall to stay home and continue their education with MSU remotely.”

    A friend who teaches K-12 was struggling with whether or not to take an early retirement from teaching. An important piece for her is that she can now retire with medical benefits — a big deal as she is a survivor of breast cancer.

    So much is going on. Old habit energy is amplified. Some people are paralyzed by panic. Others are already seeing opportunities opening up. I suggested my friend might benefit by creating and using a breath prayer, such as “I will figure it out as I go along….”

    My friend laughed so hard she cried, but the truth is we have all been doing that all along. In this ‘disorder’ phase we can see that clearly. It allows you to relax about it.

    I have found things in this office space while purging that I did not even know I had. You do want to keep the important stuff. As you anticipate reorder, notice what is truly important. Let go of the everything else. We will figure it out as we go along…

    Look at all the space that is being created!

  • When Everything Falls Apart, What Remains?

    I am technically practicing silence in a meditation retreat at Heartwood Refuge and Retreat Center in Hendersonville, North Carolina. But I am attending via Zoom and my fingers are on the keyboard. The focus of this retreat with John Orr is When Everything Falls Apart, What Remains? This was John’s blurb about the retreat:

      Our world has seen a massive upheaval as a result of the coronavirus pandemic, the continuing racism and political divisiveness. We are all having to deal with changes in our lives and the communities we live in. At times it may seem like everything is falling apart and we are left with a profound feeling of uncertainty. Now more than ever the dharma and our meditation practice can be a refuge to meet the present challenges.

      During this retreat we will explore the ancient teachings of:

      The Don’t Know Mind (making friends with uncertainty)

      Impermanence (this too shall pass)

      Dissolution (when everything falls apart, what remains?)

      Non Duality (Something isn’t separate from Everything)

      Our meditation draws on Mindfulness, Vipassana and Pure Awareness. Clear instruction will be offered for all levels.

      Loving Kindness and Compassion Meditation and chanting are also part of our retreat together. A special focus will be how to practice and hold our hearts open with the inconvenience, discomfort and uncertainty of today’s world.

    On Wednesday afternoon before the retreat began, I had yet another tender conversation with our daughter about our diverse approach to precautions related to this virus. We did not argue, but we make very different choices. A few hours later, during the opening introductions, I received news from a good friend–also attending via Zoom–that she was not feeling well. Here is the rest of the story, posted on Facebook a few moments ago in response to another friend, Kate:

    Kate posted:
    I feel like I’m one of the few people still practicing social distancing, and sheltering in place. FB is full of pics of people out to restaurants, at pools and beaches or sharing space with relatives they haven’t seen in awhile. I would love to see our kids but I can’t guarantee I’m not infected nor can they. Am I just over sensitive to this?

    I responded to Kate:
    Kate, THANK YOU! I could have written this post. Today I would add that another friend, thinking the same way you and I have been thinking, relented and got together with her family.

    Her adult children drove in from out of state, each household traveling in separate vehicles, taking proper precautions along way.

    Each household brought a tent. My friend rented a party-potty and set up an outdoor kitchen. My friend’s family did not enter her house, and when the family went hiking each family drove in his/her own car. They maintained social distance along the trail.

    Shortly after they arrived, her daughter’s partner received a call from work that his colleague had tested positive. He got in their vehicle and drove to the nearest location and had a Covid test.

    Of course the results from his test didn’t come back until AFTER he was already back home, and not until AFTER he was already symptomatic. His test came back positive.

    On Wednesday evening, gathered via Zoom, my friend reported that she had a “wicked cold” and had gone to get a Covid test. She would know in a week.

    Yesterday, she sent a private message via Zoom chat, “I tested positive. I have COVID.”

    Even the precautions level that you and I are committed to, may not be enough….

    Kate, keep teaching by example! So much to learn from this.

    ❤️🙏🏼🦋

    Deep Spring Center
    Thought for Today

    It is not the teacher who is the authority; it is the dharma that is the authority. It is sati, mindful presence, which is the authority. It is awareness, which is the authority. It is the deeply loving and open heart that is the authority. It is the Ground of Being, the divine essence of each, which is the authority. The teacher who has done his or her work, understands the practice and has developed a depth of realization of how things are, has no need to be the authority to another, but is willing to offer what he or she knows with a certainty, offering it for the guidance of others, but with no need to say, ‘This is it!’ If it really is it, others will discover that through their own practice. ~ Aaron