Debra Basham

Living and Loving

Tag: life

  • In a Single Thought

    It was mid morning on Thursday. I was on a FaceTime call with a client. The goal of the session revolved around not getting thrown out of balance during crisis times. The desire was to stay grounded even in trying circumstances.

    I like to do divination for guidance when I am working with someone to help me stay unattached. Thursday I used Angelic Messenger Cards: A Divination System for Spiritual Discovery, by Meredith L. Young Sowers. Two cards fell out. I made some notes from those two cards and from the Daily Word:

    Need for greater calmness and inner peace.
    Ask yourself, “Whom will this choice benefit?”
    Relinquish struggle and accept the truth of your angelically-inspired perspective.
    Move into the perspective of your divine nature.
    Claim your highest self and release the needy aspects of your life that mentally hold you prisoner.
    Believe more in yourself and your divine guidance
    In a single thought I can redirect my attention toward the peace of knowing I am protected.

    My phone rang. It was my brother-in-law. I could not figure out how to put the FaceTime call on hold to answer, so the call went to voice mail. “Call me immediately.”

    Moments later I was on my way to the hospital where my husband was being taken by ambulance. He had reported having a horrible stomach ache and then he lost consciousness.

    The day spent in the hallway of the emergency room (there was no room in the inn) was stressful. About dinner time he was admitted for observation. A few hours later I was driving home without him.

    The following day he was to be discharged as soon as he had an echo cardiogram, but ER was so busy again they could not get to him. Mid afternoon we were still waiting. When asked how we were holding up, I gave an honest report. “We are listening to elevator music on the TV, we both have our nose in a book, and we have decided to consider it a voluntary library day.”

    About 5:00 they decided to send him home and schedule the echo as a out-patient followup.

    Simply put, we could not control the circumstances. We could choose the thoughts and feelings and experience we were having.

    We had not wasted our day. We took the late discharge as an opportunity to stop for Thai food on the way home.

    I was taught to pay attention in client sessions and consider the message is for me first. That was obviously true last Thursday….

  • Super Blue Blood Moon

    I am blessed to be part of two writers’ groups, and one of the precious gifts of winter for me is that I take more time to write. Do you notice how seemingly unconnected things are not? For example, this morning people all over the U.S. got up early enough to see if they could get a glimpse of the Super Blue Blood Moon. One online comment said the skies have not been like this since Andrew Johnson was President, the second dome on the U.S. Capitol was completed, and Jesse James completed his first robbery.

    Time seems linear, but is not. My writing seems melancholy, but I am not.

    Poem Widow Wake-up by Debra Basham 01/23/2018

    Morning had still not yet come when she rolled over in the bed and instinctively reached her hand to the other side. This day, like so many she had tried to hold back with her sheer will, her hand found nothing to grasp on to. Nevertheless, she left it there as though memories of his warm body could will her body to greet this day.

    But it was not death that had stolen her joy. No, she herself had day-after-day driven the very sense of peace and well-being she longed for from her own heart. Living never in the now, her fears had wound themselves so tightly into her reality no distinction remained.

    “Please God,” her daily prayer as rote as the morning rosary at St. Michael’s Elementary Catholic School, “don’t let today be the day I become a widow.”

    But, not even God could keep that from happening today because in her mind it already had….

    As we take in to account that more is always happening in our lives than we are currently aware of, I suggested a client check out the energy of the Super Blue Blood Moon and how his current experience might well be connected to a childhood trauma. He sent this quote from an article he read online, “The last time there was a celestial alignment of these three things was in 1982.” 1982 was the year of that childhood event…

    Driving to a meditation group, I called the hostess to let her know I might be about 5 minutes late. “I am under the weather so we are not meeting today. I sent an email message.” I did not receive the message, but making that call saved me about an hour-long round trip.

    Maybe we don’t all always pay attention but inner guidance and meaningful coincidences are always there for each of us. Noticing them help us stop torturing ourselves with our minds. We can instead offer kindness. This quote of the day comes from my meditation teacher:

    Deep Spring Center
    Thought for Today

    No matter how many times the world comes to the verge of war or enters into it, each time is new, a new moment that has never happened before, with its own sorrows and also its joys. You ask what joy there can be. Joy in the fact that so many of you do not hate a supposed enemy but in your hearts take the enemy to be fear and hatred itself. The joy that so many of you can offer wishes for well-being, even to those who hate, and at the same time, be willing to say no to those beings who would do harm. A no based on kindness.

    May the energy of this Super Blue Blood Moon remind us of all we can do. Today and everyday…

  • Corpse Prayer

    Each year I enjoy some ritual on my birthday. Yesterday afternoon I still did not know what that was to be. Riding to the birthday celebration of our 85 year old friend, I learned of a marvelous exercise called “Corpse Prayer.” It comes from Jarem Sawatsky’s book, Dancing with the Elephants: Mindfulness Training For Those Living With Dementia, Chronic Illness or an Aging Brain (How to Die Smiling Series, #1).

    The “Corpse Prayer” exercise resonates deeply with me because it is essentially my own Imagine Healing process where you anchor positive images along your future timeline to allow the worry brain to turn off. In my process, you build in the caveat although things won’t happen exactly as you imagine it, as you make an image that lets know things have gone so well, even better than you imagined it….

    As Sawatsky suggests, I imagine the last three minutes of my life.

    I am propped up in a big fluffy bed. The bedclothes are pristine white. Stacey is there with me. I have no pain or illness, just old-age. It is time to let go. I see Stacey as old too. That comes as a surprise. White hair. Wrinkled hands. I feel sadness for a moment that her life will not be much longer, then I let that go as I celebrate sacred life and sacred death. I love her so much. I am so blessed she has been with me since I was only a child. I breathe the familiar Corpse Prayer:

    Corpse Prayer

    Be not afraid.
    I give thanks to god who created all things good.
    In christ, all things hold together.
    I am not entitled to life without death.
    I embrace sacred life.
    I embrace sacred death.
    I embrace the growing and crumbling in between.
    Smile at yourself in the silence…
    Jarem Sawatsky

    Sawatsky says to next imagine the moment you will be buried. Since I plan to be cremated, I saw that happening and breathed the Corpse Prayer again. I am not entitled to life without death.

    Two years after death, you are to see your body decayed. I see the place my ashes had been spread. Barely any shards are left. A cat walks on the ground and I think, “I love kitties.” I breathe the Corpse Prayer again. I embrace the growing and crumbling in between.

    Now I am to imagine myself 80 years after my death. My granddaughter (Courtney’s) child is old. I breathe the Corpse Prayer to her. Be not afraid…

    I smile at myself in the silence. Happy birthday to me!

  • No Ordinary Face

    Listening to the wind blowing, thoughts come to mind of how relative our perspective is. A prime example of that is weather.

    Bundled up out for a walk, Floridians see Michiganders riding bikes in shirt sleeves.

    Americans look into a brimming pantry complaining about nothing to eat.

    “No Ordinary Face” was first shared at an open mic. I have since been encouraged to share the story more widely. It certainly is a powerful demonstration of perspective.

    No Ordinary Face

    It has been over twenty years since I met her, but hers is a face I will never forget.

    I work as a wellness consultant, sometimes called a holistic healer. She had been referred to me by one of my colleagues, for a surgical support session. Physical healing happens more easily when you are emotionally and mentally prepared. Combining hypnosis and energy medicine I help people “imagine healing.” I knew she was facing an extensive reconstruction following serious burns, but nothing I had been told about her prepared me for what I was seeing.

    “So, you are scheduled for plastic surgery?” I asked. As she answered I jotted the date and time and hospital onto her chart without looking away from her face.

    With a poise not anticipated from her shocking physical appearance, she provided a brief highlight of her MANY previous surgeries.

    As she answered my unspoken question, without permission my chest with it’s now rapid-beating heart leaned forward ever so slightly, “I set myself on fire. I did not want to live,” she was not apologizing but merely helping me understand. “More than my not wanting to live, I thought no one would care if I died. I was wrong, nearly dead wrong.”

    “As the flames caught,” she continued, “I heard a voice yell ‘OPEN THE DOOR AND GET OUT OF THE CAR…. NOW!’”

    She went on to tell me that her life had been totally changed by that event. I thought to myself that was an understatement. There was no person who yelled. She recognized the voice as god, an angel, or some divine guide.

    As though proof of these changes and her true value, she reached in her purse and produced a photograph of a red-haired, blue-eyed toddler sitting on the most realistic rocking horse I have ever seen. “I have a daughter now… My daughter knows she is loved,” her voice trailed off wistfully as she placed the photo back in her purse.

    “There are other people who feel like no one cares but it is not true. I would not be here today had it not been for that voice… Someone cares. Call it what you want. I am living proof someone cares about each of us.”

    “I don’t really remember what I looked like before,” she added with twisted grin, “but I love this face.”

    When she had doused the car with gasoline, climbed in behind the steering wheel, and struck the match, her previous face had melted away like a candle burning in the August wind.

    This face. A face made from other body parts: abdomen ears, underarm eyes, back-of knee nose, and labia lips: this definitely was no ordinary face.

  • Winter Wonderland

    As a writer, generating material is as easy as paying attention to the burr beneath your saddle. On January 5 of this year wishing our granddaughter happy birthday pulled me back 19 years to the day she was born. The words “winter wonderland” — one of the nicknames for Michigan, my home state, were not the first on my lips.

    Drifts were piled outside that rivaled the summit of Mt. Everest. Visibility was reduced to the nose in front of my face. Temperatures had plummeted so low the gas line in our car was frozen solid even while it was parked in the garage.

    We were not getting to Tennessee for our granddaughter’s birth.

    January 5 that year I cried all day.

    There are times in our lives when our human efforts are just not enough to bring about what we want. I could not clear the roads, and I could not stop my granddaughter’s timed entry into this world.

    For several years our family has drawn names and made hand-crafted gifts. This past Christmas, I got my granddaughter’s name. I designed a deck of cards, and a companion book of inspired writings to correspond with each card, based loosely on the symbolism in a Tarot deck.

    Yesterday I received a gifted copy of The Crafty Poet: A Portable Workshop, by Diane Lockward. Our poetry group has begun working through this wonderful book. As I opened to the first chapter, our assignment, I read:

    Those who have caused us early pain and loneliness, the sources of our art: should we detest them or kiss their feet? ~ Wesley McNair

    A tear formed in the corner of my eye as I read my granddaughter’s words in response to my happy birthday message. “I’m so thankful that you’re my Gammie…”

    To which I replied, “And I’m so thankful that you’re my granddaughter. Sometime today or tomorrow draw a card from ‘Courtney’s Cards’ and see what the message is for your birthday. You can share that with me!”

    “I’d love to.”

    She picked the King of Spades.
    “The Christian does not think God will love us because we are good; but that God will make us good because he loves us.” ~ C.S. Lewis

    Amen.

    I am symbolically kissing the feet of the snow that has piled around my home this week this year freezing the water line into the house. Even the most bitter of our days will thaw out and the difficult will be made easy. Spring always follows winter…

  • Property Virgins

    First times are memorable just because they are first. This has certainly been true for me this summer with the selling of our home.

    Here is a handout left on our kitchen table next to the plate of cookies just-out-of-the-oven:

    This was our first home, purchased 40 years ago this past April.

    Our next home is in Glen-Aire, just around the corner.

    Here are a few of the things to love about this home:

      Location, location, location!
      The beautiful hardwood floors.
      The family room.
      Looking out on the back yard.
      The laundry chute.
      The kitchen layout, including the pantry, the pull-out shelves, and the 36 inch drawers.
      The dimmer switches.
      The built-ins (master bedroom, master bathroom, garage).
      The lighted closets.
      Instant hot water in all locations.
      The gas fire place.
      The sunrises and sunsets.
      The basement shelves.
      Did I mention the location and the lot?

    If you decide this is to be your next home, you will love it.

    This is the first home we have ever sold, and it is also the first home the buyer has ever bought. We are both well past our teenage years but we are property virgins.

    The selling and buying of this home will be memorable, as will this morning’s sunrise….

  • Treasures

    Would anyone recognize the importance of these treasures? Without my providing a guided tour, might they just look like useless items delinquent on the trip to the trash?

    Might my sweet spirit whisper to anyone who was willing to listen how significant each really is?

    The round tuit—such a valuable reminder!

    A simple wooden acorn that allowed me to recognize my spiritual calling to healing work.

    NONME stamped right into the material by the manufacturer of a piece of PVC pipe, found in the garden at a Sangha silent meditation retreat on no-self.

    The shaman’s medicine bundle from the back-yard blessing provided by a beloved Carmelite Sister.

    Yet, even right now I realize these items themselves are of no significant value.

    I welcome awareness and learning slipping into an ease of being much like pulling on your favorite pair of slippers…

  • You ARE Love


    What is my definition of heartbreak?

    heartbreak (noun): the vast pain that we suffer in response to our expectations
    not being met in some way.
    A facet of reality as a human being.

    So if you’re experiencing heartbreak,
    be it romantic, in your work life,
    or if you feel let down by society overall,
    I’m here for you.

    Love Hurts:
    Buddhist Advice for the Heartbroken
    by Lodro Rinzler

    I did not expect to be writing about heartbreak ten days before Christmas, but these words from Shambhala Publications seem so relevant.

    Yesterday was the birthday of my dear friend, Claudia. Today, Claudia’s beloved husband, Wayne, was settled into the memory care unit of a facility about ten minutes from their home. Expectations not being met in some way? You bet.

    One year ago, another friend, Erin, gave birth to twins knowing her daughter, Ella, had anencephaly. Ella packed a lifetime of memories into her short three-and-one-half-days. Heartbroken? Understandably so. (See About Our Ella.)

    A family member is waiting for biopsy results, having received a diagnosis of cancer last week. A facet of reality as a human being.

    I cannot address in one blog post all of the people I know who are heartbroken about life, and those feeling let down by society overall.

    Last evening, Claudia and her adult daughter, Carmen, and I sat on my living room sofa wrapped in warm blankets. Zoom transported us into a spiritual group meeting being held a few hours away where we met with friends in Texas and Michigan and Canada. The message was one of love. Not just that you are loved, but that you ARE love.

    While at retreat in October I wrote in my journal, “I want to celebrate Christmas.” (See Jesus Loves Me.)

    Celebrating Christmas is not about buying presents, but it is about gifts. It was a gift to make a birthday dinner for Claudia, and a gift to be with our spiritual friends via technology. It will be a gift to spend time with Erin tomorrow, honoring Ella’s powerful life.

    Although it is early, I am making my New Years resolution: Live what Wayne said the last morning he woke up in their home, “What I know to be true is love is all that’s real.”

    Well said, Wayne.

    YOU are love.
    wayne-at-royalton-12-15-16

  • Saluting Sally

    Life is wonderFULL. Some days and some times of our lives are definitely more full than others.

    Today is the one year anniversary of my mother-in-law’s transition. I’ve written about her passing in Musings from an Estate Sale, and spoken about it in Celebrations of Life, a talk given at Unity by the Lakeshore the morning after the final day of the estate sale.

    One week ago today, I had the honor of giving the eulogy for John’s Aunt Nor.

    Yesterday, I sat with my beloved sister as she supported their sweet cat, Sally, in crossing the Rainbow Bridge.

    As much as I try to not write so much about life and death, it is life after death keeps calling my fingers to the keyboard.

    You may appreciate a reminder of our seeing the boat named Miss Ellie on the highway as we drove home from the first Basham Family Reunion without John’s mom with us in body. Miss Ellie is the nickname given to my mother-in-law by another of her daughters-in-law, Cindy.

    This morning, I opened my email to a Quotation for the day from David Bloyd. “Every single thing that has ever happened in your life is preparing you for a moment that is yet to come.” According to David, the author of this quotation found on marcandangel.com, is unknown. Known or unknown, the writer has spoken a powerful reality.

    A bit before noon yesterday I drove my sister and her precious kitty companion to the vet. Janis’ husband, Larry, was working. The regular vet was on vacation, but they had someone filling in. The vet who saw us was a young woman. As she was in that room with us, her own story came out. One month ago, she had to put her dog down. She had loved that dog for ten years. She, too, had waited so long the injection had to go into the heart. She fought her tears, gave us hugs, and shared her own tender experiences, Janis and I agreed Sally’s needing support to complete her transition may have been as much about that tender-hearted vet as it was about Sally and the two of us.
    sally-at-vet

    The threads of our lives are connected…. We can appreciate that truth.

    Sally had come to my brother-in-law’s art studio over 16 years earlier. Sally’s ears and tail were bare of hair—having been sheered by frostbite. We can endure painful experiences in life. A month of Larry’s consistent and compassionate feeding resulted in this former feral’s finally coming inside where it was warm. Sally became a studio cat, and she has been a studio cat since that day…. Not one time during the next decade and a half did an open door or window tempt her away from her place of warmth and love. She had been there and done that!
    sally-blue-eyes

    Today, I will ride my bike to yoga class in the autumn sun.

    You can appreciate the truth. As J.K. Rowling wrote in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, “The ones who love us never really leave us, you can always find them in here.”

  • Mandarin Oranges!

    Sacred Stories

    Her most frequent snack of late was mandarin oranges. She was driving on a four-lane road, when—on the dotted line in her lane—she saw a single mandarin orange slice.

    Recognizing it as odd, she missed the message of a visit from her husband until the very next day (on a different four-lane road!) she saw—again on the dotted line in her lane—another single mandarin orange slice.

    orange