Debra Basham

Living and Loving

Tag: Yellow Brick Road

  • Better than an Orgasm

    We almost won money at the Trivia night at Bob’s BBQ in Murfreesboro, Tennessee. Our grandson, Brad, is the MC for the Thursday evening game. The play-off question was when Mother’s Day had become an official holiday. I guessed 1923. The other team guessed 1922. It was really 1914.

    I am not at all sure why 1923 popped into my mind, but the moment I said it, John said, “That is the year my mom was born.” Is it possible her spirit influenced my guess? I am not sure, but I do have those sorts of connections happen often.

    A few weeks ago, I met with a couple. He asked me if I thought I had some sort of gift beyond what I have been trained in. My response was, “I hope I do.”

    Every day we have opportunity to decide what we are going to believe about life.

    John and I were on our way to Tennessee late Wednesday evening. We were just north of Nashville, driving South on I-65, when we saw a line of taillights strung across all five lanes. John began to slow down when he realized what was going on. “They are about to do a race!” Sure enough, those drivers were lining up to run a quarter mile.

    Right in the middle of the thoughts about how dangerous, careless, and selfish a choice to do that on the highway was, I heard those car engines peal out. I was transported back to my adolescence and could only speak the truth, “There was a time when that sound was more pleasurable to me than an orgasm.”

    One thing I know for sure, right in the midst of whatever difficult, dangerous, or despicable event that is happening is something more. As my brother-in-law goes through cancer treatment he is surrounded by family and friends who care. Many contributed to a fund-raiser. Most say prayers. Some visit.

    Ryan Jon knows he was adopted. He posted an amazing video on FaceBook to his birth mother thanking her for making the difficult choices to give him his life. He wanted her to know he appreciates her and wishes her a happy Mother’s Day.

    Whatever Mother’s Day or drag racing means to you personally, take some time to reflect on the gifts right in the midst of any rough spots. What are the odds we would be at that exact spot on the highway at the exact moment those cars were lining up to race…. Chances are the chances are very slim, but we were at the right spot at the right time. Knowing that moment to moment is even better than an orgasm!

  • Shoo Shoo Shame

    Listening to a podcast titled “Empty Out the Negative” by Joel Olsteen this morning has my process stirred. Of course, that stirring began before today. A few days ago, as the sorting, purging, packing and staging continued here on Lincoln Avenue, I found the following penciled-in note in the back of my first NIV bible. A bible gifted to me by my friend Rick, who has since died of AIDS.

    My precious notes are barely legible but an internet search attributed a significant quotation to Dr. Ray Anderson, published in Proclaiming the Scandal of the Cross: Contemporary Images of the Atonement, page 147, by Mark D. Baker:

    Shame is the perceived loss of our place with others. Those who have the power to create our history have the power to make us feel worthy or unworthy at the core of our being. Since our being is dependent upon how others view us, we feel shame as loss of being. It is this deep sense of shame, which seems to deprive us of our very right to exist, that drives many over the edge of guilt to suicide.

    Shame is a sense I have been all too familiar with in this life. Many of you know the story of my conception and birth and teenage pregnancy (Loved and Wanted: Listen to Your Mother Southwest Michigan 2016). The idea of our need to empty out the negative in order to enjoy the positive is what I appreciated most in Olseen’s podcast.

    If your life is filled with frustration, anger, sadness, resentment, guilt or any other unpleasant emotional states, little space is left for life to fill in all the good stuff. Olsteen offered the metaphor of a catheter draining the body of toxins to our need to release stored toxic emotions through forgiveness.

    I agreed wholeheartedly with Olsteen that forgiveness is something you do for yourself, not for the one thought to have done you wrong. However, him saying we don’t have to seek vindication because God is the judge drew my heart back to a line at the bottom of the page of penciled notes: “Remember Christ died for my sins, not because of them.”

    While releasing toxic emotions, best to let go of any stubborn toxic theology, too.

  • Love and Affection

    Untitled
    by Ryōkan

    It is not that
    I avoid mixing
    with the world;
    but I do better
    playing alone.

    This poem was excerpted from Sky Above, Great Wind: The Life and Poetry of Zen Master Ryōkan (page 2). It was translated by Kazuaki Tanahashi.

    What I found most fascinating about Ryōkan (1758-1831) is not that he lived much of his life as a hermit and a beggar, or that in spite of never heading a temple or monastery, he is considered one of the three giants of Zen, and has become one of the most popular poets in Japanese history.

    Something inside me was moved by his words because I understand them. Some days you’d like to tell your boss off, yell at your beloved, or run away from it all. That’s when you have to take a breath and remember what you truly want.

    Because April is National Poetry Month, our Pine Island Poetry Meet has no specific assignment for 27 April. We are inviting our muse to have fun. As a tribute to my knowing I am the only barrier to my own happiness, I am sharing “Laid to Rest,” an Insult Poem.

    NOTE: AN INSULT POEM OFFERS A WAY FOR THE POET TO EXPRESS ANGER WITHOUT ENGAGING IN A TOTAL SNARK FEST; THE MAIN HALLMARKS OF AN INSULT POEM ARE HUMOR AND EXAGGERATION. INSULT POEMS DO NOT GENERALLY DEAL IN UNIVERSAL THEMES—THEY ARE PERSONAL AND ARE DIRECTED TO A SPECIFIC PERSON OR GROUP. HOWEVER, THESE POEMS ARE ARTISTIC IN THAT THEY EMPHASIZE THE POET’S VERBAL SUPERIORITY WITH WORDS (AS OPPOSED TO DOWN AND DIRTY FIGHTING AND NAME-CALLING).

    Laid to Rest

    You think you’re so smart
    You think you’re so wise
    The truth is your blindness
    Can be seen in your eyes

    You hide behind intellect
    Totally failing to feel
    Cast your net of blame
    Miss the chance to be real

    You open your mouth
    And close down your heart
    You wax eloquently on
    Playing your part

    Someday maybe
    you’ll see
    Beauty so near
    lurking in me

    But whatever may come
    As the years pass us by
    Too swiftly for most
    Gone in the wink of an eye

    For now I forgive me
    for not giving you
    the space to be
    the freedom to do

    Our past is now gone
    a shadow at best
    too soon, my dear friend
    we’ll both be laid to rest

    Debra Basham 3-21-2017

    I recall the day I stood in my kitchen and spat out an announcement: “I wish I could just run away!”

    My husband looked straight ahead and calmly replied, “What keeps you from doing that?”

    Tears filled my eyes and spilled out onto my cheeks. “I cannot think of anywhere I can go that I will not be there.”

    I loved reading that as an old man Ryōkan fell in love with a young Zen nun. She became his student and the poems of his later period are influenced by his affection for her.

    I’m glad he recognized there is something better than playing alone. I am glad he chose love and affection….

  • 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…

  • Tapping into Gratitude

    My grandson, Brad, and his wife, Christina, spent five wonderFULL days with us on Pine Island. Brad had been working for Charter Media in Murfreesboro (Tennessee) since earning his Master’s Degree three years ago. Recently, though, he declined a large promotion with Charter that would have meant their move to North Carolina. It was not the move itself that was a deciding factor, it was the corporate lifestyle that demands you live to work rather than work to live.

    They called their visit “Retirement Training.” He decided the reason they call it retirement is that first you are tired because you are working so hard, then you are retired because you are playing so hard.

    They rode bikes, went kayaking with dolphins, watched manatee in the canal, took a pleasure boat ride to lunch at Fort Myers beach, grilled fresh shrimp, participated in music on the island, played shuffleboard, and went to dinner at early-bird schedules. In the early morning, and late in the evening, Brad would work remote as a consultant in data management. It was way beyond great.

    After they left, I participated in a World Tapping Summit talk on gratitude with Carol Look. I loved her words, “Expressing gratitude is like planting seeds; many good things will come from it.” She stressed the importance one not do it because you will get something. Do it because it feels good.

    But what about those times when it is difficult to catch a whiff of gratitude? The darkest of the dark days? Especially then, it is important to start where you are and cast a net of well-being with the WHAT IF frame: “Even though thus and so, what if there could be a solution I don’t yet know about.”

    I also appreciated learning the importance of tapping thank you to the universe or god or whomever/whatever you conceive: “Thank you for brining me a solution to thus and so.”

    Finally, Carol says you will benefit by moving through the points just expressing anything and everything you are grateful for. “Nature, family, friends, sunshine, dolphins, manatees, health, freedom, kindness, flowers, trees, birds, bicycles.”

    Today, I am tapping thank you for Brad and Christina having been able to visit, and for the wisdom they have at 27 years-old to avoid clamping on golden handcuffs.

    (If you are new to it, here is a short instructional video and introduction to EFT (Emotional Freedom Technique), commonly called just “tapping” with Jessica Ortner: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pAclBdj20ZU)

  • Catching Rays

    Have you ever seen any of those 3D “magic eye” images? You have to hold the image close to your nose, look through it so it is blurry, and maintain your gaze as you slowly move the image away from you. As your eyes relax, your focus changes, and you can see amazingly beautiful things. This image contains two giraffes.

    Just like those hidden images, you have undoubtedly been able to see the way an unusual event will bring something else into view. Like seeing not one, not two, but three gopher tortoises one day during a bike ride. Or catching not one, not two, but three stingrays one day fishing off the dock.

    The odd thing about catching the rays while fishing off the dock is that the people right next door who have fished from the dock for years have never ever caught one stingray here. Let alone three in one day.

    So, I looked up the symbolism of stingray.

    Stingrays represent your emotions and how you may be hiding them from others. If it’s calm, stingray suggests maneuvering a challenge in your life with ease and grace. If the ray is aggressive; it means you may be reacting to your emotions, rather than using careful deliberation in your approach, which could be costly.

    Oh, my goodness. The first and largest of the three rays fought very hard. For the longest time. Taking the line way out. Darting away from the dock. Digging down in the mud. This first and largest one was about the size of a garbage can lid. In case you are wondering, the ray was able to be safely released.

    The guy who managed to wrestle with and land that big old ray on an ultralight rod and reel currently has two younger brothers navigating cancer treatment. One of his brothers was having his right kidney removed at that time! Another of his brothers has been dealing with the side-effects of radiation and chemotherapy treatment for lung cancer. His platelet count was too low for him to receive chemo at that time! While the fisherman has been snow-birding in Florida this winter, he has begun saying he is bored with being here and thinks he might go home early.

    Stingrays may be telling you to not overreact to your emotions, to calm down and wait before reacting. Stingrays maneuver themselves quite well despite their size and shape and they tell us to also carefully maneuver the complex emotional waters of our inner world.

    This week, I am participating in the World Tapping Summit. I especially enjoyed the interview with Dr. Paul Sheele, “Feeling Abundant: Attract More Wealth and Prosperity Into Your Life!”. Sheele made the distinction between abundance and prosperity. The universe is abundant. Prosperity is the degree to which we are aware of and participating in the true state of the universe.

    I am thinking about all of this in relationship to catching the rays, and those magic eye photos. I am going to think about it this way: well-being (like abundance) is there even while going through all those challenges, hidden right there just out of view.

  • Life’s Squalls

    So many sweet friends and family members are going through major STUFF right now. One of the dynamics is how stuff comes out of the blue.

    That reminds me of the Captain Ron movie. Kurt Russell, who plays Captain Ron, says, “It’s just a little squall. They come on you fast, and they leave you fast.” Hear this message in a gravely, pirate-style, voice and you will get the picture.

    I enjoyed my daughter, Stacey, belting that out several times while we were at Cayo Costa. We went for a beach day. It was sunny when we got dropped off at the dock, and sunny when we started walking along the beach on a shelling adventure.

    Off in the distance was an amazing cloud formation—what at home we call a “front”.

    As we shelled, that front drifted right over our heads. Before we got back to where we had left our chairs and cooler, the sky overhead was very dark, the wind was quite cool, and the mist that was blowing our way was definitely more than sea spray.

    This week, a good friend ended up in ER with chest discomfort and high blood pressure. Her heart checked out fine, but they spotted two lung nodules. She will be having a lung biopsy.

    Captain Ron’s words popped into my mind. “It’s just a little squall. They come on you fast, and they leave you fast.”

    Over the years, I have been privileged to witness so many folks weather storms in their lives.

    From Presence, Kindness, and Freedom: Aaron’s Teachings on Living from an Open Heart by Barbara Brodsky:

    Certainly, there are issues that need to be resolved, but you can relate to them in loving ways. First, know that there are no problems, only situations that ask for your loving attention. If you are willing to risk being undefended in a place of pain, as you open your hearts to these difficulties, then there is no “problem,” which implies a negative experience, only a situation that asks for attention. (p. 37)

    I am enjoying a poetry group. The group leader, Gail Berreitter shares different poetry forms. The current assignment, Found poems, take existing texts and refashion them, reorder them, and present them as poems. The literary equivalent of a collage, found poetry is often made from newspaper articles, street signs, graffiti, speeches, letters, or even other poems.

    A pure found poem consists exclusively of outside texts: the words of the poem remain as they were found, with few additions or omissions. Decisions of form, such as where to break a line, are left to the poet.

    As a sort of poetic prayer for loved ones, I took that quotation from Presence, Kindness, and Freedom, and I created a Found poem.
    No Problems
    by Debra Basham 2/24/2017

    Certainly (3)
    there are issues (4)
    that need to be resolved (5)
    you can relate to them in loving ways. (10)

    First, know that (3)
    there aren’t problems (4)
    just situations (5)
    asking us for our loving attention. (10)

    If you are (3)
    willing to risk, (4)
    be undefended (5)
    in a place of pain and with open hearts (10)

    to these (3)
    difficulties (4)
    there is no “problem“ (5)
    nothing negative, just a call for love. (10)

    After that squall, the sun came back out. We had a marvelous day.

    May all beings relate to the issues that need to be resolved in loving ways. They come on you fast, and they leave you fast.

  • Old Enough

    Do you remember wanting to be old enough for kindergarten? Old enough to stay home alone? Old enough to babysit? Old enough to drive a car? Old enough to vote or drink?

    Remember when you thought forty was old?

    One of the best things about age is its relativity. I was mother to a 3-year old. My nephew was riding in the car with me. “Aunt Deb, you could pass.”

    Looking around, I saw no other vehicles, “I could pass what?” I asked.

    Motioning to my hands on the steering wheel, he said, “You could pass for a teenager.”

    I was 19!

    Do you remember the Ivory liquid commercial with the teenager and her middle-aged mom comparing hands? In that commercial, the mom’s hands could pass for those of a teenager because she used the correct dishwashing soap!

    I am now old enough to know my hands could not pass for those of a teenager.

    I’m glad.

    I sometimes miss seeing my younger self in the mirror. I am surprised by the crepey skin.

    I’m glad I’m old enough for more important things.

    I’m old enough to choose comfortable shoes.

    Remember the pointed-toe spiked-heels?

    I am old enough to value women friends.

    Gone are the days of blowing off our girlfriends because we got asked out by a boy.

    Old enough to be honest about what we want. That was quite an adjustment.

    “No, I’m really not comfortable with thus and so; given the choice this is what I’d do or where I’d go.”

    I remember the summer morning in 1995: robins singing, sun streaming through the window. I sat on the sofa and I knew—with every fiber of my being—I was going to spend the winter in Tennessee bonding with our new grandchild who was due in October. “I am going to go to Tennessee for the winter,” I later told my husband, “I hope you can get your ducks in a row so you are able to go with me.”

    Gloria is in her 90’s. Buried her son when he was in his 50s. She says about that, “By far the hardest thing I’ve done.”

    Nancy’s in her 80s. She takes her therapy dog to hospitals and schools three days a week and still maintains her house and garden.

    I’m not yet 70, but I’m old enough. Caroline Myss writes, “But now I feel that I have reached that age where I can speak more openly about the hidden realm, mysticism, and the wonders of all things holy and Sacred.”

    I am old enough to know I would rather be close than right. I would rather be honest than accepted.

    I am old enough to know that just because not everyone one talks to dead people doesn’t mean I am crazy because I do. After all, I don’t just talk to them, they talk to me.

    And I am old enough to know we don’t have to agree to agree to be kind and compassionate.

    Ah, yes, old enough for that….

    1/15/2017 ~ Debra Basham

  • Happy Birthday Bradley!

    Twenty-seven years ago today, I became a grandma. Grandparenting has been and is one of the most glorious roles of my life, but I often say I went kicking and screaming into it. I was only thirty-nine when our daughter, Stacey, told us she was expecting. I was working full time. I did volunteer work. I traveled. I felt like I was not only too young to be a grandma, but also too busy.

    Our family has been laughing about all of the quirky names people come up with for grandmothers. Me Me, Nana, Memaw, Gigi, Yaya, Mawmaw—to name a few. My grandchildren (and countless others) call me Gammie. I wonder if I am not alone in sometimes resisting the wonderful but new.

    What I know is that I did not think about that name. It is something that slipped out of my lips like the oohs and aahs at the Fourth of July fireworks.

    Early Monday morning on January 8, 1990, that is how I introduced myself to my first grand, Bradley Joseph Zelenak. “I’m your Gammie.”

    Last year I wrote a grandmothers memory book for him for Christmas.

    Brad has the only copy for now but I may publish a slightly different version because the pages are sprinkled with wisdom he came to share.

    It is truly amazing how your sweet heart and beautiful mind processes life. The day we carved your first pumpkin it was getting late and your mom wanted you to get into the bath, but you were still having fun with your jack-o-lantern. Your grandpa had the idea to bring your pumpkin into the bathroom.

    While you can’t always have a bath by jack-o-lantern light, you can almost always enjoy a soaking bath by candlelight. In the summer of 1997, you were in the tub. You had your entire body submerged, with just your face sticking up out of the water. Because your ears were covered, you were bellowing out very loudly.

    “GAMMIE, I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHY PEOPLE ARE SO UPSET PRINCESS DIANA DIED. DON’T THEY KNOW SHE IS IN HEAVEN WITH GOD?”

    Knowing you were attending a church in the Bible Belt, I wondered what you thought about where heaven was, so I tapped you on the shoulder and motioned for you to sit up so you could hear me. “Buddy. Where do you think heaven is?” I asked.

    Submerging yourself again, you answered the question. “WELL, GAMMIE, IT IS RIGHT HERE; IT IS IN OUR HEARTS.”

    I breathed a sigh of relief that your precious view of life had not been washed away by dogma.

    Over the years, we shared many conversations about the meaning of life. The depth of your thinking has been consistently remarkable at every age.

    I recall our being in the car one day. You may have been about four. You said you wished you had a great big house. I asked why you wanted that. You began to list off everyone in your life. You wanted us to all live together. It made me feel sad to know you were always without someone you loved.

    Another time, your grandpa and I took you fishing out at Pitcher Lake. When your grandpa caught a fish, you said to him, “I wish I was you.” Isn’t it remarkable that you did not say you wished you had caught the fish instead of your grandpa? Your disposition was so filled with empathy. You knew you would have liked to have the experience of catching a fish, but you would not have that at someone else’s loss.

    I know your life is still just unfolding, but I can see you as an important being in the world. Every stage of your life you are more aware than most. You are loving, and kind, and generous, and thoughtful, and you have a way of seeing the world that is broader than most.

    And here you are, turning twenty-seven. You recently turned down a big promotion that would have required a move because you were not willing to do for money something your heart was not in. I am still learning lessons from you.

    Happy Birthday, Bradley, from your Gammie!

  • Edema

    Perhaps you remember having heard the name Dr. Saul Shaye. If not, I certainly hope this post gets your attention.

    I had swollen feet after the drive home from Tennessee for our Thanksgiving visit. I chalked that up to having eaten way too much junk.

    On Sunday (Christmas Day) I had edema. On Friday evening, we had had friends in for bunko and heavy hors d’oeuvers. I indulged in salami wraps and cocktail franks and sausage balls. Christmas Eve we did fondue with the kids. Again, these foods were much more sodium-laden than is normal for me.

    The swelling did not go down overnight, and it increased some as I was on my feet during the day so I still had some puffiness Monday. Tuesday I spent about 12 hours in the car.

    I confess to having a bit more angst about health stuff since my blood pressure crisis this past May. I had another spike in my readings (thankfully not as high as in May) the week after Thanksgiving when I was at the foot doctor for a recheck.

    This is what my feet looked like on Tuesday evening when we stopped for the night:

    That is when Dr. Saul Shaye popped into my mind. I sent him an email message, with the photo of my feet and told him, “I would appreciate a distant healing session at your earliest convenience.”

    My phone rang.

    I have previously written about having been a demonstration subject for Dr. Shaye. (See Spiritual Healing.)

    The following day, we did more driving, and then I was on my feet for hours and hours unpacking. It was a very long day and I was exhausted when I crawled into bed, but the edema was gone!

    If my relief of symptoms was all of the story, it would be amazing, but as I was busy unpacking I received a frantic text message from a friend. Her adult son, living out-of-state, has struggled with alcohol addiction. Earlier this fall he had a severe incident, and although he had said he would come home for Christmas, he did not show up.

    She made some calls and discovered her son had not shown up to work. Because of the earlier incident, the police were dispatched to his apartment. The police confirmed that he was drinking again, but since he said he was not feeling suicidal they could do nothing.

    Her son was not answering his phone. Her husband was driving there, terrified of what he might find when he arrived mid afternoon the following day.

    I suggested she have Dr. Shaye do a surrogate healing for her son. It would help her, and it could not hurt her son. She made contact and received the healing. She wrote, “Dr. Shaye went through me to my son, but I felt a huge shift and then a touch on my sternum.”

    This text message came from her earlier today:

    I just got a voicemail from my son saying he was in the same medical unit he was in earlier this year. He gave me the code so his dad could get in. I also got a call from the Human Resources department where my son works. They sent him leave papers, which means he could still have his job! I now have the number of the friend who took him to the hospital.

    Fortunately we never have to know how things might have played out for my friend’s son without the spiritual healing session with Dr. Shaye, but even the most skeptical personalities can not miss the significance of the timing of his distant healing. And we may never know what caused the edema in my feet to dissipate.

    But don’t just take our word for it. Check out Dr. Shaye’s free ebook, Bigger Little Book of Miracles. Who might need you to have a healing experience yourself and then share it with them? I certainly appreciated having just had that experience when my friend reached out in desperation. And I have great appreciation to Dr. Shaye’s willingness to be such a clear channel.

    The cost? $30.

    The result? Priceless.