Posts Tagged ‘MasterPath’

Listen Within

November 4, 2025

In the season of Halloween with its strong theme of haunting – haunted houses, will o’the wisps, scary dreams, things that go bump in the night, I’ve become aware recently of a different sort of haunting – the way in which the emotional imprint of very old experiences can haunt one’s present, distorting and sometimes destroying present peace, satisfaction, well being. It may even instill a negative tone into current relationships.

I’m not referring to the sort of emotional turmoil that needs professional help from a qualified mental health counselor. Rather, I’m noticing a subtle tugging on emotional strings that results from misperceived identity, or misplaced attention. A current example for me is too easily feeling overlooked in the days surrounding my birthday because of a haunting recall of how my birthday was regularly ruined, year after year, in my childhood. Whatever had been promised as a treat would not materialize, no parties were ever allowed, and instead of pampered, I often became the scapegoat for something/someone else that angered my mother.

In the more than half century since, there have been any number of special events to mark various birthdays – either things I treated myself with, or that friends shared with me. Living on my own for many of those years, I learned to celebrate privately. It has come as a surprise, therefore, to find that now – in a relationship – I can be haunted by those childhood memories, and want assurance from my partner that this year, this birthday, will not be overlooked.

This particular haunting rose into awareness as I participated in a group reflection recently. I have met regularly, for over two years, with a small group of people on Zoom, most of them drawn to Quaker silent worship from a variety of backgrounds. We share our reflections on a query related to a reading. Most recently, we had all read an essay about the different ways that people center themselves, still the mind, enter prayer, or otherwise engage in the activity they consider as the way to connect with the spiritual self. The query was worded:

How do you recognize an inner prompting as coming from your spiritual center, however you identify or name that place of wisdom?

It was enlightening to hear what different people connected with in the article, and to recognize that in a way we had each read a different essay. What spoke to one had not been noticed by another. One was comfortable with the author’s implication that God, the Divine, Spirit, Eternal Love – so many different terms – is external to the author and to be sought outside oneself. Another participant described her spiritual practice as connecting with the Spirit Within. Both stated that they “just knew” because of its “ring of Truth” that an insight arose from spirit, not the mind or emotions.

I also seek inwardly for the guiding spirit, the Sound, my Eternal Teacher to make me aware of whatever it is I need to know in the moment. Most recently the birthday-related haunting served as a nudge, a prompting from within, to finally, permanently stop looking outward for validation and acknowledgment.

Now I face a different challenge – to discern why it is that subtle habits one knows need to be broken remain so hard to shed? My Teacher refers to them as golden chains, as they often seem to be positives, like concern for hearing the opinions of others, listening, and being a “good friend”. It is critical to recognize that the actions themselves are not binding. The enchainment comes from needing to know that one is appreciated for doing them.

It helps that I remind myself daily of an instruction from my Grandpa, given more than 70 years ago, that the guide to follow is that I “do right because it is the right thing to do.” Not for recognition, not for honor, not for any external reason – simply because I know that I am doing what I should when I listen inwardly and follow the Inner Voice that has never failed to guide me well. The doing becomes its own reward.

Restoration

October 1, 2025

To write a blog post means to take time for myself – ignoring the barking dog outside my windows who is either scaring off deer, or defending her territory from marauding neighbor dogs. Ignoring the addictive habit of turning on the news to learn what latest atrocity is emanating from the once lovely city where I was born. Ignoring the phone that invites me to check in with the wants, needs or disregard of others in my immediate circle of family and friends.

Taking time for myself seems solidly set in opposition to all that we are persuaded, daily, it is our obligation to engage with. Don’t be selfish. Put the needs of others before your own. Be a good neighbor, friend, wife, mother.

Where are the exhortations to be good to oneself, without which one cannot sustain constant care for others?

And in particular, what part of self is it that needs attention it is not getting?

Surely not the ego, that so easily takes pride in how well (or poorly?) it cares for all those others it is exhorted to attend to.

The reflective individual who does, indeed, do a good job of other care remains too often in a quandary of self doubt – feeling unsatisfied, empty, even bereft despite their long list of good works and behavior. I see it all around me, have felt it myself.

Why is that so?

Most certainly, because the self that needs care isn’t getting it. Ego is not the self that needs care.

Spirit, Soul, Inner Self, “that of God in everyone” is the self that needs care, but too rarely gets it.

I see it all around me, and am guilty of this neglect myself.

Hearing the exhortation to practice what you preach, I wish to relearn the habit of regular posting that I achieved some years ago, when I was also working full time and meeting other commitments. Somehow retirement, which should have given me more time, did the opposite. Partly due to a simultaneous health challenge to my energy. Partly due to living through Covid, two successive wildfires that did severe damage to my home, and a major change in my family situation. But mostly due to neglect of Self care. To post I must make time for inner reflection, which is one form of Self care. I must assure that I do my daily contemplation exercise, and keep my attention focused on the inner voice that guides me wisely. I have not totally lost those habits, but I have allowed myself to become distracted, overwhelmed.

No more.

Be-ing or Lazy?

March 17, 2025

How many times in the past several months have I said to myself that “today I will write another blog post” only to see the day pass with me occupied with all the other activities that can consume our daily lives, especially those of us who are older, and/or having to manage health issues and limited energy. Today is really no different, except that I seem to have finally come to the end of my laziness, and decided to start writing without having first selected a topic. Because choosing a topic was one of the many “excuses” I had to cover what I have resisted identifying by its proper title, laziness. I mean, how could I call myself lazy when I am as active as I have been with running a home, caring for animals, supporting friends who are dealing with illness, family member deaths, troublesome children, plus responding with resistance as best I can to the trashing of America’s institutions and its standing in the world, plus preparing for major changes in my daily life at home? All while my body is controlled by the random whims of an autoimmune disorder that reacts with increased pain and decreased energy whenever there are even minor shifts in weather.

I suspect the answer lies in some aspect of self image, or how I define my sense of self. I had no trouble keeping up regular posts throughout my last, time demanding period of employment when I was also running a household and doing all the activities listed above. When I retired, in 2020 at the age of 76, I thought I would be a more prolific writer with so much newly freed time. Instead, my posting declined until it virtually stopped. Yes, I became ill with the autoimmune disorder that took much of my energy and required almost two years to be diagnosed so that I could begin what has proven to be a moderately effective treatment regimen. Yes, the changes that Covid wrought throughout our society affected me as well. And yes, retirement brought about a greater change in my sense of self than I anticipated, given that I was fully aware of how this transition impacts people.

What I think I did not anticipate, despite the warnings from my acupuncturist, was the extent to which removing the stress and pressure I had lived with for most of my working life would collapse rather than free me. Running on adrenaline from stress, deadlines, meeting others’ expectations is what kept me going, Removing that pressure left me not just exhausted in body, but disoriented and adrift in mind and spirit. Adding in Covid-caused distancing and long days of isolation pushed me further into “the blahs” which in turn morphed into an ambiguity as to who I am without a persistent drive to do, and to be recognized as a do-er.

A dear friend whose own physical challenges forced him into an earlier retirement than he had planned described the challenge I faced as the do-be-do-be-do of the music he loved. He and I both noted that we needed to run counter to the end of that theme, as we were both striving to settle comfortably into self definition as be-ing rather than do-ing.

I suspect that my mind conflated “being” with laziness – if I wasn’t “doing,” I was lazy. Gardening, poultry care, house chores were readily available ways of doing that could convince me I was not lazy.

Writing, on the other hand, is part of my being-ness, part of my sense of self, of the spirit centered entity that I have known all my life but have only lately been given the opportunity and circumstances to fully develop.

Two quite different gifts from friends have now, I hope, pushed me out of the need to self-define by doing, into the actual freedom I expected retirement to give me. The first was a request from a college classmate to write a blurb for the cover of a book she translated that will soon be published. I read the manuscript, offered a few editorial comments, and quite enjoyed the challenge of condensing my appreciation into a short paragraph for the blurb. That activity resurrected my awareness of the pleasure I take in language fluency and writing. The second was the gift of All In For Love, the first of a trilogy of books by Leslie S. King, given to me after I had posted an online appreciation of her third volume, I Am Love. Leslie’s poems and short essays detail her spiritual journey and express the essence of Be-ing that she, like I, have been working our way towards. Her courage and lucidity in putting that challenge into words and sending them out into the world have been a great inspiration for me.

So what do I conclude? Probably that I was not being lazy, but rather that I was not yet ready to accept a total change in my sense of identity, just as I had not felt ready to take on a rather radical change in my outer living circumstances that will now most probably manifest by mid-May. It is neither positive nor negative – just majorly different. If nothing else, it will give me plenty to write about. I hope you will care to follow along as this familiar but also new me expresses itself.

Mind the Mind

October 3, 2023

As I strive to be patient with what is beginning to feel like an intolerably delayed process, I repeat to myself that things can’t happen on any different time schedule, just because I want them to. I remind myself that stressing about delays moves nothing forward, only wears my patience down further. I think that I would be handling the situation better if only there were meaningful communication. Are the workers coming today, or did their cancellation due to weather yesterday (never communicated to me until after dark last night) set everything back an unknown length of time?

As I try to stay in the present, and enjoy the quiet that I know will be lacking in days ahead, my squirrely mind jumps to the self imposed approaching deadline – that I want to be able to enjoy entertaining guests for a joint birthday for my stepson (his first in the US) and me in just a few weeks, in late October. No way can I do that with the inside of the house in its present dismantled state, everything off the walls and away from shelf edges, to prevent crashing disasters as the outside walls are pounded, in the process of putting up new siding.

I do not lack for alternatives. Several friends have offered us retreats to their homes during the noisy reconstruction, and I’m certain I could even plan a party in one of those spaces. As deeply appreciative as I am of these offers, my mind keeps me hung up on it “not being the same” as entertaining at home.

Why does this aspect of identity (a demanding mind) that I know is not “the real me” keep interfering with acceptance of what is? Can’t it be content with its prowess at Wordl and crossword puzzles, and let go of the false and illusory pretense of control? How many times must it subject itself (and me) to the hard lesson that no amount of planning and preparation can ever envision all possible outcomes? No matter how many past experiences I reflect on, where in retrospect I see that things worked out exactly as best benefited me despite not being what mind intended, still today sitting here waiting for the possible arrival of a crew (or not), that mind resists relaxing and letting me just be.

It helps, verbalizing the dilemma, so that I have a focus for the spiritual exercise I will engage in as I walk out to feed chickens and go down the hill to empty the mailbox, grateful that the sun is out and that there is green showing on the tops of many of the still-standing burnt trees both on my own property and its surrounding areas.

Mind, please be at peace.

Summing Up Another Year

September 21, 2023

Apparently I have been engaged in a transition, recognized by others on the spiritual Path I follow, as a key shift in both focus of attention and sense of identity, that requires limiting one’s outer engagements to just what is necessary for daily life, with much of what occupied my time and energy stripped away. Hence my writing has been set aside, along with most social interaction, social media usage, even the number of books I am accustomed to getting read in a week. Undoubtedly the considerable demands to adapt imposed by acquiring a teenage stepson, and being displaced from home (again) by wildfire, have played their part in my largely unconscious decision to pull in, focus inward, and go relatively silent to the unseen audience such as I may still have for this blog.

The aftermath of fire damage is still unfolding. My house was saved, its exterior severely damaged and about to be remade (projected to take about a month). Garage and large shipping container of stored life history are gone. The electric meter, and therefore power for the well, was destroyed and took several months to be restored to code specifications, during which time I was evacuated to a location 140 miles away, traveling back twice a week to care for animals and receive my scheduled weekly health support treatments. Friends housed me near home for those overnights. I am deeply grateful for their caring assistance.

Learning to live, three of us in a small one bedroom apartment where my husband lives during his workweek, in a big city near its airport, was a challenging adjustment for the three months of being evacuated from home. I have known intuitively, all my life, that I am not a city person, despite living in them from early childhood until my late 20’s when I moved to New Mexico. Once here, I have lived rural, delighted to visit cities when necessary but no longer confined by them. Despite the view from some of my windows now being of charred trees, I still savor the rural landscape that has been my daily blessing for more than thirty years. And there are patches of green reemerging on many of the trees, the grasses have come back in full, along with sunflowers and some other small wildflowers. Additionally, the grasshopper infestation that has plagued my neighbors living outside the burn area has not come near my surviving perennials. Doves never left, and songbirds have returned. The only thing I missed this summer season was hummingbirds. I expect them back next year.

It is too soon to say what may be my biggest gift from this year of upheaval, but as I approach both the anniversary of meeting my spiritual teacher and my own birth anniversary, both in late October, I acknowledge my gratitude for finally learning to release mind’s iron grip and dictates, freeing me to be flexible, adaptable and trusting, experiencing satisfying outcomes I could not envision with my limited mental outlook. My Teacher repeatedly reminds us that Soul is a happy entity. Seeing that I can be happy despite outer tensions and challenges is a lovely indication that I am approaching knowing myself as Soul, lovingly guided on what to say, when to say it, when to be still, when to act and how to simply Be.

Thank you to all who continue to follow despite my long silence. I appreciate you.

Uncertainty

January 2, 2023

I have been thinking about, and feeling my way through, this topic for a couple weeks with each day revealing a different aspect of it, or presenting me with a new challenge to consider. As I type, I am aware I may not be able to complete a full post. Not because I don’t know what I want to say, but because one of the constraints on my daily life (intermittent severe pain to my dominant shoulder, arm and wrist) may stop me from typing.

Covid, post-Covid uptick in flu and RSV, unpredictable weather, unstable economic conditions, and a general increase in threats of all sorts (Will Russia deploy a nuke in Ukraine? Who will next host mongers of hate and violence here at home?) all contribute to an overriding atmosphere of uncertainty. For most of us, uncertainty brings with it an uptick in fear, as we fight against loss of control and try to find ways to ward off the worst potential consequences of that loss.

I have been reading essays and opinion pieces about some of these social aspects of living with uncertainty, and have responded in letters to the writers, or to the editor, at the several news organizations that publish the journalists I choose to follow. None of them have taken on the sources of uncertainty that are the main concerns for me these days. The closest any have come is to mention the aging of our population and the lack of adequate support for the many more people who are both older and living alone. In that context there has also been discussion of burnout among health care workers, including doctors who are leaving their profession, worn out by overwhelming caseloads and corporate directorships that dictate quantity of visits and hence revenue, over quality of care.

I am grateful for personal circumstances which suggest I will not be left alone to face the increasing limitations of aging. Though I am alone 4-5 days each week now, I can call on my partner to be here within 2 hours, should the need arise – and we are talking about a change in home base that would permit him to be at home with me each evening.

Stopping due to pain – hoping it is temporary and I can resume later this morning.

Well, that break was not a few hours, not even a few days or weeks, but more than a month. Limited energy forced different priorities for my time and/or I have been still trying to do most of the activities that have given me satisfaction or pleasure and a sense of purpose in my retirement, leaving nothing for writing. I am hopeful that starting the new year with a post will set the tone for 2023 and help me implement my desire to once again be an engaged writer.

Help for achieving that goal comes from a friend who has included me in the group of “beta readers” for his manuscript on living with and managing pain, and from another dear friend who has been using self hypnosis to cope, for a number of years with a level of pain she describes as “screaming”. I have much to learn from them, and from my own inner wisdom, as I seek to continue being “of use” to others in ways that are effective but less demanding of my limited energy.

So the very personal aspect of uncertainty I am now examining in my spiritual practice is that of learning to be maximally focused in the immediate now. For a person raised by a German Virgo father to plan well ahead, with two or three backup alternatives as the means to manage uncertainty, becoming able to just be, in the now of time, is essentially to shed what has been part of my core identity for all of my adult life. As I write those words, I hear the inner voice of my spiritual teacher assuring me that the mentally formulated concept of a core identity of planner is a total illusion – my core identity is Soul or spirit, all knowing and able to manage whatever life brings to my attention, so long as I keep my attention where it needs to be – in the present moment, open to being shown each next step.

So that is what I am taking as my task for this new year. Not a resolution, with its associated sense of mental discipline in order to be implemented, but rather a suggestion for where – and to what – I give the nourishing food of my attention. 

Here. Now. For each set of circumstances that arise for me to navigate.

So be it.

Another Uncertainty

July 27, 2022

I’m puzzling over my current inability to generate an essay or post without something triggering me to respond to another’s thoughts. I have written quite a number of letters to columnists, or “to the editor” in response to articles (mostly in NYT or Atlantic) that, on rereading, I find to be thoughtful and probably appropriate to post, with some edits to clarify the content to which I have responded. What keeps me from creating posts on those same topics which I have been reflecting on for some time? Have I retreated so far into pandemic initiated solitude that I no longer feel a connection with any audience (a necessity, in my experience, for finding my voice) so that I am only able to respond to someone I’ve read?

Maybe…

With plenty of time to start practicing piano, I have not done so – until now that I have committed to play duets with a friend who will be visiting, with his guitar, at the end of the year. A deadline and an audience in place, I have begun to sit down for at least a short session of music as close to daily as I can prod myself to undertake. Am I so undone by the loss of work deadline pressures that I can’t commit to something I want to do, without a target date?

Maybe… 

Or am I simply not yet adjusted to the transition to retirement after being multiply engaged with work, housework, family, social obligations, etc?

Maybe…

So how long does such a transition take? Is there a standard? If so, does the standard take into account Covid lockdown and a need, due to age, for continued precautionary limitations to activities?

I don’t know. Maybe…

Walking to the mailbox this morning, I recognized that my many letters of response to opinion pieces or other news feed items are an exercise of intellect, whereas my posts have most commonly been expressions of inner reflection, or insights gifted from spirit. So am I, of late, giving too much attention to mind and not enough to Soul?

Maybe…

A recent increased interaction with Quaker acquaintances and friends has challenged me to clarify how I perceive the relationship between inner spiritual unfolding and outer expression of spiritual beliefs. Both my Quaker (and far distant Jewish) values and my ongoing spiritual Path dictate being engaged in the world, though not focused on finding one’s worth there. Rather, one’s outer daily environment is both a source of lessons, and the outlet for manifesting one’s growing awareness of spiritual Truth.

Intellectual understanding (represented for me at the moment by reading and responding to well reasoned opinions on affairs to the day) has its place, but should not overshadow time spent in inward contemplation – “seeking that of God within” in Quaker parlance, “checking in” with the Master and Soul, as explicated by my Path.

So are my questions about motivation, reasons for writing, use of my now abundant free time a reflection of an as yet unresolved issue of self identity? Am I in the process of transforming my sense of identity, of Self, from being rooted in what I think and do to what I Am?

Maybe…

Alike – and Not

July 7, 2021

Emerging from my lockdown solitude, I have recently interacted with two couples with whom I have a number of things in common, and some significant differences. All five of us attended the same college at approximately the same time. Three of us graduated together, the others a year and two years behind the three. The two couples each married upon graduation, becoming additional statistics in what has been affectionately labeled “the Quaker matchbox.” They are still married, roughly 50 years later. I too married just after graduation, and I too have been married just short of 50 years – but my total is accumulated across several relationships instead of a single long-lasting one.

All of us live in the fire threatened, drought stricken Southwest, within a day’s drive of one another. All of us do our part to care for the environment, and we have all had careers that emphasize making life better for others – in medical care, teaching and the arts. We are all retired and, to the extent that circumstances permit, either working part time or otherwise engaged with activities generally labelled “contributing to society.”  

One couple, my classmates, live in an intentional community, or what they refer to as co-housing. Some twenty four families have their homes clustered along two graveled walkways radiating from a Community Building which has a kitchen and expansive meeting/dining/activity area all centered within some 340 acres of ranchland, with animals, gardens, greenhouse and necessary support buildings and infrastructure maintained communally. The housing area is, courtesy of a good, carefully protected and rationed well, a riot of trees, flowering and native plants, an emphatic green thumb imprint on the adjacent dried grass fields. 

The second couple live in a shaded urban residential area within the largest city in our state. They too have a landscaped and flowering front yard and a small vegetable garden behind their home. Their street is a block long dead end, creating a sense of community among the neighbors who perforce coordinate to care for plantings dividing the block into a U, one side in and one out, rather like a circular drive moving past and uniting the several homes.

By contrast, I live in rural solitude in a small home on four acres, my neighbors barely in view. I have no landscaping, only wildflowers, assorted grasses and a persistent army of encroaching mullein stalks that I do my best to weed out. I have started a small, one vegetable garden, to grow my husband’s favorite greens.

All of us have dogs. I am the only one to also have a cat.

All of us have maintained a positive attitude toward our health and longevity, focused on what we can do rather than what now limits us.

All of us follow, to some extent, current politics and express our similar views in the voting booth.

They have children, I do not – except now in my later years, by step-parent status.

Using my driving time during recent visits to both couples, I have been reflecting on my life overall, undoubtedly part of the process of emerging from pandemic isolation. Also part of the ongoing process of considering who I am as a retiree, and what I wish to do now that the focus of my life is more my own to discern.

The one clear direction I am following is to be guided more by inner prompting (listening to that of God within, as Quakers would express it; Hearing, and Being the Sound Current as MasterPath reveals it) than by outer demands. 

What does that have to do with the comparisons with which I began this reflection? 

As a child, I expected that the course of my life would be more like that of the two couples – finding a compatible mate and living our lives out together. It still surprises me to see that instead I learned and grew through a sequence of relationships, mostly to partners of different races and ethnicities from my own. Yet I have evolved in a quite similar pattern to my college mates as regards values, professional roles and lifestyles.

What if anything meaningfully sets me apart?

My marital relationships have been cross race/ethnicity/culture whereas theirs are not.

I have had longish periods of functioning as a single person; they have not.

They have articulated their goals for the next several years; I do not know mine.

Or rather, I only know that it is time for me to have goals of my own, and to make them as much of a priority as I have, over my lifetime, made it a priority to help my mate(s) meet his/theirs.

Now the work begins – first to define my goals and then to teach myself to keep them front and center. 

Fortunately I know that the only place to seek my new goals is within myself, as I complete my daily spiritual practice. Which means that defining the goals is not work, merely an extension of what I already do.

As with so many questions in life, the answer is simple once “overthinking” is curtailed.

Quiet the mind and let inner wisdom speak.

Stepping Ahead

January 1, 2021

Setting new priorities and looking forward to at least occasional good news in the year ahead, to replace the barrage of negativity that defined 2020 I want to set the tone by appreciating and thanking all those who follow this blog, and also those who occasionally stop to read it. May you all find opportunity for joy, growth, a sense of achievement and of community in 2021.

Baraka bashad – may these blessings be.

Fighting Back

December 10, 2020

The combination of retirement, a dip in overall health, and the isolation of self protection from Covid have combined to push me toward being what I have most disliked over my life until now – an old person talking constantly about health complaints. How else can I view myself, when the few calls or inquiries made of me begin with “How are you doing? Are you okay?” and while the overall answer is “Alright, just rather bored and tired” the more specific answer is “Aggravated by the sequence of health challenges that have arisen since I stopped work” which in turn rob my energy and focus, and when combined with all the pandemic-imposed restrictions, prevent me from engaging with anything that can stimulate my interest or give me the opportunity to discuss substantive issues with others.

Minus the pandemic, I know I would be enrolled in a sketching class, probably teaching workshops, and certainly driving out to visit friends or meeting them for a meal and conversation in a restaurant. I would still have the health issues that affect me (residual apparently from something toxic inhaled along with the smoke from the West Coast fires) but I would have distractions, and a schedule of activities to motivate me to do more than read my daily news feeds and the novels that I still enjoy.

Transitioning from very full time, demanding and people-interactive work to retirement is a challenge. Isolating at home to keep safe and relatively healthy is a challenge. Adapting from having one’s mate always present to his being away all week and only home on weekends is a considerable challenge. Combining all three at once and layering on a coating of decline in health seems to be enough to turn me into a stereotype of an old person. Only my hatred both of stereotypes and of whining, complaining people stands between me and overwhelmed defeat.

Thank heaven I live in a rural environment, can get out and walk freely around my property, and at times am treated, as this morning, to the delight of deer effortlessly completing a standing jump over the fence and onto my land. It is a gray day, with dropping temperature and possible rain predicted, after a week of warm, sunny autumn weather. Without the deer my mood would most likely not be great. Instead, as I see the picture of my spiritual teacher smiling at me, I understand His gift just provided to me.

For you, today and all days, may similar blessings be.


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