Saturday, January 15, 2011

Child of light

Last week I stumbled across a quote by Marianne Williamson which I thought absolutely brilliant. From her book A Return to Love: Reflections on the Principles of "A Course in Miracles" titled Our Deepest Fear, she wrote:

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

Whether it's fear of inadequacy or power, darkness or light, we are our own worst enemies, when we are afraid to go beyond frontiers, to test our limitations again and again and press on despite repeated failure, or to pursue and nurture a passion just because it defies common sense.

By the time I was in my mid-thirties, I had packed up my dreams for I had bought into the idea that there was a certain order in the universe that I could not buck and I was resigned to a life of frustrated mediocrity seasoned with disappointments and missed opportunities.

This was until I came to the realization that I had a vocation, a mission in life that spoke of untapped potentials and burgeoning possibilities to be explored.

To be powerful beyond measure - not in the way the world understands power, but to be an infinite and unique channel of grace in the lives of those I know and meet every day.

All I had to do was be that child of God Williamson wrote about. The child who realizes she owes her existence to God, understands how much He loves her and knows all she has to do is to simply be that child.

While the truth of my identity is quite apparent, the devil, as they say, is in the details, the details of how to live as that fearless child whose vision is untainted by cultural filters that can be so limiting and destructive.

I am bombarded by internal and external messages daily that I am not good enough, that a woman is a member of the weaker sex, that my worth as a human being is infinitesimal for I do not hold a position of influence or have a career worth speaking about, that I am not smart enough... the list goes on.

It requires a steadfast single-mindedness to be guided in all things by my Father who knows best and not give in to the skewed standards set by the world.

Pope John Paul II defines holiness as receptivity to the gift of the Bridegroom. Only by responding with the open and trusting heart of a child, can I then "conceive the love of God from within and bring it forth into the world".

This openness of heart means letting go of fears, old habits, perspectives and prejudices, to try new things and travel more profound depths, taking many leaps of faith along the way.

It means striving hard and working towards realizing my gifts and actualizing my self. Not forgetting to enjoy the journey along the way.

It also means to constantly check where I am to see if I am on the right track, and then to see if I am keeping pace or dragging my feet?

Williamson's quote is a reminder to walk boldly forward in the new year, not to shrink but to expand (spiritually only, I hope) and to play it big. And when obstacles come my way, to let God's will and wisdom ease me forward.

Only in this way can I liberate my own dreams and maybe those of others, too.


Monday, January 10, 2011

Friends forever

One of the best gifts in life is someone whom you thought was a social kind of friend but turns out to be someone you can count on when the going gets rough. A was such a friend.

It was 1987 when I had just returned from my studies abroad and found it hard to fit back into life at home. My escape was jazz class and that's where we met.

She was an older woman but full of verve and energy, not afraid of looking silly in class. We clicked for A was ultra-friendly, funny and had a gift of being honest to the point of rudeness that absolutely had me in stitches.

It also amused me no end how she tut-tutted my job-hopping ways (she worked for one employer her entire life) and decried my single state of life (which she tried numerous times to remedy with her rather disastrous match-making efforts).

Besides shared laughter and interests, what makes a friendship one that lasts until death intervenes?

In this instance it was the outstretched hand, offered voluntarily out of love with no thought of reward or compensation, that wove a flexible, enduring bond that began life on a tenuous thread of common interest.

A was a casual friend and my modern dance buddy. We met occasionally, some years more than others, some less, and we enjoyed each other's company when we met. That was the relationship we had, light and easy.

Until she saw an opportunity to help me in a period where I was struggling and she reached out in love, and with great perspicacity and generosity

That was the tipping point of our relationship. I loved her for that singular act of love that transformed my life.

A and I used to dance to this song by Michael W. Smith and it says exactly how I feel, especially the chorus:

And friends are friends forever
If the Lord's the Lord of them
And a friend will not say never

'Cos the welcome will not end
'Though it's hard to let you go
In the Father's hands we know
That a lifetime's not too long
To live as friends.

Thank you A for enriching my life in so many ways. When I grow up I want to be just like you, especially the candour that was so endearing. Right now, people just find me rude.

Rouse up heaven with your inimitable flair, tell God how to run heaven and say hi to G for me. Miss you.

Saturday, January 08, 2011

For Anna

J just messaged me that you are gone.
I am stunned by the suddenness of your leaving,
My throat is tight and my heart heavy with grief,
My eyes sockets ache from the weight of yet unshed tears.
I just saw you last week and you were fine,
We talked. We laughed. You offered me crisps.
I chivvied you into working hard,
To connect your mind and body as you move.
I smiled at how you stuck your tongue out at your mistakes.
We had spoken again just Wednesday past,
Making plans for me to come visit you next week.
And now you leave me, in the last sigh of breath.
Is life fair that death should visit so early in the year?
I am bereft, robbed of the pleasure of your friendship.
But then, you are with G. again and I cannot deny
Your pleasure at being together with him once more,
For I know how much you have missed him.
I am glad for the time we had these last few months,
You were my angel here on earth and I know
You will continue to look out for me.
It's just that now you do it from another place.




Monday, January 03, 2011

Fun days

Baby bro asked me a question a couple of days ago, what do I do for me time - to relax and have fun?

The question threw me for a loop for it is one I usually pose to stressed out friends (not one usually directed at me), and also because I couldn't really give him a valid response for a while.

Well, I do have plans this new year and I am quite excited about auditing a course on moral theology called Personal Compass: Navigating Ethical Ambiguity but that hardly qualifies as fun.

I had to think hard before I came up with an answer that satisfied him, that is I intend to buy a ukulele and take lessons this year.

His question set me thinking - do I do fun stuff, am I a fun person? Why did I have to struggle to answer him?

I no longer dive, much as I would love to, due to time and cost constraints. Anyways, that was a very occasional avocation.

Right now, I don't do anything that brings me pleasure and helps me unwind apart from an occasional glass of wine or umeshu, which is a frightening realization.

The last performance I attended was only because I wanted to bring Mum for she enjoys live music.

I rarely hang out with friends who lead equally busy lives.

I haven't stepped into a cinema in ages. I don't even listen to music much although I love music and it moves me.

I haven't danced in years although I love to dance. I still read, but not books that would qualify as light reading.

Hmmm... all I do in my free time is blog, surf the net and watch cable TV. Not good.

No wonder my body is stiff as a board, creaky and growing sideways.

So yes, I am going to prioritize fun activities in 2011, activities which include being outdoors and pushing myself physically so I experience a rush of endorphins on a regular basis.

In honour of my baby bro, whose birthday it is today, I am going to model him and learn to lighten up and get moving.

I wouldn't want to turn into someone with "spiritual bad breath" who has no idea how to laugh at herself and is a pain to be with.

It would be pointless to be a person who does "good deeds" but does them without any joy (I have been rather frazzled and snappish lately so yes, I could definitely be less wired).

Thanks for the reminder, bro. Bring on the fun.