I swear I will not dishonor my soul with hatred, but offer myself humbly as a guardian of nature, as a healer of misery, as a messenger of wonder, as an architect of peace. (Diane Ackerman)
Recently Barack Hussein Obama was sworn in as the 44th Predisent of these United States of America. In fact, he was sworn in twice, because the Chief Justice mixed up the words during the inauguration ceremony. It got me to thinking about promises we all make and oaths we take in our lives. How can we make them more than mere words?
Tha above quote from Diane Ackerman came to me from Gratefulness.org as part of their email program, Word for the Day. Many of their quotes give me pause, but none more so than this one.
I have decided to take this oath every day, each morning as I start my day. I offer it to you and to President Obama. It is not as formal or specific, like swearing to "defend the Constitution of the United States". But it says so very much more to me.
It uses words like: guardian, messenger, healer, architect. Most important it uses the word humbly. I am touched by this attempt to align oneself with nature, wonder and peace, and to move away from hatred. I read the words and I want to live up to them, be worthy of them, have them engraved upon my soul.
Perhaps by sharing them here they will begin to spread. And others will take them up as their oath, their words to live by.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Sunday, December 28, 2008
We Live Therefore We Serve Part Two
"Service is the rent we pay for the privilege of living on this earth. It is the very purpose of life, and not something you do in your spare time." Shirley Chisholm
When I was a young woman, I tried to get a job at a fancy restaurant as a waitress. It was the only job available in the rural area where I was living. When asked what experience I had, I lied and said I had worked my way through college as a waitress at my uncle’s fancy restaurant. The closest job I actually had was serving ice cream and burgers.
I got the job and was given six tables to wait on. Each table had six courses to be served in addition to drinks and wine from the bar. I was completely out of my ken. I really had no idea how to open wine with a flourish, keep track of which table was on what course, make sure everyone got what they actually ordered, etc. And then I realized two things: taking care of six tables was like performing an intricate dance. I could immerse myself in the steps of the dance and keep the food and drink flowing. But most important was to approach each table with a true attitude of service.
“How can I help you?” became my mantra and also my heart-felt approach to my job. I was genuinely interested in each group I served. I was honest in telling them that I was new to this type of job. I laughed at myself as I struggled with the wine corks, or forgot who ordered what. I listened to each and every person and soon had them telling me about their lives in the course of the six courses they consumed. I may not have been the best waitress, but I was the friendliest and got lots of praise from my customers and really good tips.
The key here was that I realized as a waitress I was there to serve my customers. Truly serve them. Once I became aware of this, my customers responded with delight and appreciation.
Since that time I have pondered the idea of service. So much of what we all do each and every day is a kind of service, but if we are not aware of it, we lose the opportunity to really experience the benefits and effects of that service. What exactly do I mean by “service”? To serve can mean offering comfort and aid to another human being, feeding the birds on cold winter days, clearing out a storm drain after a big rain, sending money to a favorite charity, volunteering in your child’s classroom. But service also means making breakfast for your family, changing a diaper, grocery shopping, cleaning the toilet, sweeping the floor. The list is endless. We perform countless acts of service every day without being aware of it. As soon as we become aware, the experience is enhanced and we are uplifted by each act of service instead of feeling drained.
Every act of service we perform makes our lives, the lives of others and the Earth a tiny bit better. As we enter the new year, I challenge you to make two new years resolutions: to be more aware of how you already serve and to try to be of more service to this planet, your country, your community, your family, and yourself. Happy New Year!
When I was a young woman, I tried to get a job at a fancy restaurant as a waitress. It was the only job available in the rural area where I was living. When asked what experience I had, I lied and said I had worked my way through college as a waitress at my uncle’s fancy restaurant. The closest job I actually had was serving ice cream and burgers.
I got the job and was given six tables to wait on. Each table had six courses to be served in addition to drinks and wine from the bar. I was completely out of my ken. I really had no idea how to open wine with a flourish, keep track of which table was on what course, make sure everyone got what they actually ordered, etc. And then I realized two things: taking care of six tables was like performing an intricate dance. I could immerse myself in the steps of the dance and keep the food and drink flowing. But most important was to approach each table with a true attitude of service.
“How can I help you?” became my mantra and also my heart-felt approach to my job. I was genuinely interested in each group I served. I was honest in telling them that I was new to this type of job. I laughed at myself as I struggled with the wine corks, or forgot who ordered what. I listened to each and every person and soon had them telling me about their lives in the course of the six courses they consumed. I may not have been the best waitress, but I was the friendliest and got lots of praise from my customers and really good tips.
The key here was that I realized as a waitress I was there to serve my customers. Truly serve them. Once I became aware of this, my customers responded with delight and appreciation.
Since that time I have pondered the idea of service. So much of what we all do each and every day is a kind of service, but if we are not aware of it, we lose the opportunity to really experience the benefits and effects of that service. What exactly do I mean by “service”? To serve can mean offering comfort and aid to another human being, feeding the birds on cold winter days, clearing out a storm drain after a big rain, sending money to a favorite charity, volunteering in your child’s classroom. But service also means making breakfast for your family, changing a diaper, grocery shopping, cleaning the toilet, sweeping the floor. The list is endless. We perform countless acts of service every day without being aware of it. As soon as we become aware, the experience is enhanced and we are uplifted by each act of service instead of feeling drained.
Every act of service we perform makes our lives, the lives of others and the Earth a tiny bit better. As we enter the new year, I challenge you to make two new years resolutions: to be more aware of how you already serve and to try to be of more service to this planet, your country, your community, your family, and yourself. Happy New Year!
Friday, November 28, 2008
We Live Therefore We Serve
"Service is the rent we pay for the privilege of living on this earth. It is the very purpose of life, and not something you do in your spare time." Shirley Chisholm
Why am I here? Why do I live in this place at this time? What is the purpose of my life? Of all life? What will happen after I die? Does God exist?
These are BIG questions. They occur to all of us as we live and grow and look toward our inevitable death. Of course, it is easy to ignore these BIG questions and allow ourselves to get buried in the minutiae of our lives, all the SMALL details comprised of living on this planet. We can get tunnel vision as we go about our daily lives and pay attention only to what needs to be done on any given day: going to work, paying bills, making dinner, parenting, watching TV, going to sleep at the end of the day, only to wake up and immerse ourselves in the minutiae once again. Still, when we are alone in the car or the shower, or in the space between waking and sleep, the BIG questions resurface: Why am I here? What is the purpose of my life? What happens after death?
It is all this un-knowing, these Mysteries that keep philosophers and religious thinkers busy coming up with new theories and new religious sects. Soon these BIG thinkers start to think they have solved the Mystery of Life and that they have discovered the RIGHT way. "Follow me," they say. "I know the answers. I will save you from all doubt, all uncertainty. I will show you the Way."
Doesn't it seem just a bit too easy? In all this vast Universe, amid all the other uncountable Universes, how can one man or woman on this tiny blue-green planet have all the answers? How can one religion be RIGHT and another WRONG? How can God choose one people and turn His/Her back on another? If God is LOVE, how can God's rule include punishment and fear of damnation?
So, what is one small person to do? How are we supposed to grapple with these BIG questions all on our own? It is easier to bury ourselves in the minutiae of our lives and hope that the BIG questions will take care of themselves, or let whatever religion we belong to provide the answers. Which brings me back to the title of this essay: We live therefore we serve.
My answer to all the BIG questions for which I have no answer: offer my life up in service to the greater good, see every action as an offering of love, keep away from self pity and fear. When self-pity and fear rear their heads, find a way to offer up even those feelings as a gift to the great Mystery which surrounds our lives and moves with us through our days and nights, whether we acknowledge it or not.
It is easy to feel powerless and helpless, to feel no responsibility for all the evil and violence and poverty in the world. After all, what can one person do? If each and every one of us offered our life as a daily gift to the Mystery of Life, all the evil and violence and poverty would vanish from the Earth. Of course, we have no power over those who feel invested in keeping things as they are, but this "fact" does not absolve us from offering our life as an example of love and service. We live therefore we serve.
"Any human who feels that he or she is not "good enough" to cultivate peace and generosity is overlooking the wondrous gift of life. You live, therefore you are good enough." Dhyani Ywahoo
Why am I here? Why do I live in this place at this time? What is the purpose of my life? Of all life? What will happen after I die? Does God exist?
These are BIG questions. They occur to all of us as we live and grow and look toward our inevitable death. Of course, it is easy to ignore these BIG questions and allow ourselves to get buried in the minutiae of our lives, all the SMALL details comprised of living on this planet. We can get tunnel vision as we go about our daily lives and pay attention only to what needs to be done on any given day: going to work, paying bills, making dinner, parenting, watching TV, going to sleep at the end of the day, only to wake up and immerse ourselves in the minutiae once again. Still, when we are alone in the car or the shower, or in the space between waking and sleep, the BIG questions resurface: Why am I here? What is the purpose of my life? What happens after death?
It is all this un-knowing, these Mysteries that keep philosophers and religious thinkers busy coming up with new theories and new religious sects. Soon these BIG thinkers start to think they have solved the Mystery of Life and that they have discovered the RIGHT way. "Follow me," they say. "I know the answers. I will save you from all doubt, all uncertainty. I will show you the Way."
Doesn't it seem just a bit too easy? In all this vast Universe, amid all the other uncountable Universes, how can one man or woman on this tiny blue-green planet have all the answers? How can one religion be RIGHT and another WRONG? How can God choose one people and turn His/Her back on another? If God is LOVE, how can God's rule include punishment and fear of damnation?
So, what is one small person to do? How are we supposed to grapple with these BIG questions all on our own? It is easier to bury ourselves in the minutiae of our lives and hope that the BIG questions will take care of themselves, or let whatever religion we belong to provide the answers. Which brings me back to the title of this essay: We live therefore we serve.
My answer to all the BIG questions for which I have no answer: offer my life up in service to the greater good, see every action as an offering of love, keep away from self pity and fear. When self-pity and fear rear their heads, find a way to offer up even those feelings as a gift to the great Mystery which surrounds our lives and moves with us through our days and nights, whether we acknowledge it or not.
It is easy to feel powerless and helpless, to feel no responsibility for all the evil and violence and poverty in the world. After all, what can one person do? If each and every one of us offered our life as a daily gift to the Mystery of Life, all the evil and violence and poverty would vanish from the Earth. Of course, we have no power over those who feel invested in keeping things as they are, but this "fact" does not absolve us from offering our life as an example of love and service. We live therefore we serve.
"Any human who feels that he or she is not "good enough" to cultivate peace and generosity is overlooking the wondrous gift of life. You live, therefore you are good enough." Dhyani Ywahoo
Saturday, August 16, 2008
The Resiliency of Weeds
We built a new house on a corner parcel of land. In the process of digging out a basement and due to all the people working on the building, the grass was covered up or destroyed. I took advantage of that fact to create a yard that was all garden and no lawn. Over the last three years I have added many plants and shrubs and ground covers, along with trees, fruits and vegetables. But in addition to all that I have chosen and planted on my own, many plants have arrived via wind-born seed or bird droppings. The result is that I have many weeds living among the cultivated plants.
In some cases I just let the weeds grow along side whatever I have chosen, so you will see a 6-foot mullein plant near my rose bushes, or yarrow popping up here there and everywhere. The clover and buttercup are so abundant, however, they threaten to completely cover up my lovely blue-star creeper, the ground cover I have chosen for its tiny magical star-shaped flowers that cover it from May through September. So out I go into the fray, starting in April and continuing into May and June, tearing out the clover and the buttercup and the crab grass and the dandelions in order to let the very forgiving blue star creeper and vinca and knick knick a chance to grow and thrive.
My husband laughs at my determination. "It's a losing battle," he says. And he is right. Along about July my enthusiasm for weeding starts to lag. By August I am postively weeded out. All my beliefs about weeding being good therapy, about how meditative and healing it is to get my hands in the dirt wanes. Instead I look out at the chaos that is my yard and have an intense urge to lie down in the hammock and read a book.
The trick is not to look too closely. People walk by and, when they see me in my yard, tell me, "I just love your garden! It makes my heart glad to look at it." These words would inspire me to longer weeding sessions in the early summer. Now I just look up from my book and say, "Thanks".
So the losing battle has been lost. The weeds knew it all along. They have let me come through and tear some of them up, knowing quite well that sooner or later I'd get tired. Each time I came through they bowed to my weeding will and started growing again as soon as I passed by. Their resiliency and ability to forgive my weeding ways was and is boundless.
I never feel so accepted for who I am as when I am weeding in my garden. "Come and play in the dirt," the plants seem to say to me. "We will let you pick who stays and who goes for just this little while. Then we will come back where we will and live in harmony, rose and mugwort, dandelion and hydrangea, fuchsia and buttercup."
We can all learn from the resiliency of weeds. They grow where they can. They allow us to pluck them from the soil. And then they grow again. And again. No judgement. No blame. Perserverence furthers.
In some cases I just let the weeds grow along side whatever I have chosen, so you will see a 6-foot mullein plant near my rose bushes, or yarrow popping up here there and everywhere. The clover and buttercup are so abundant, however, they threaten to completely cover up my lovely blue-star creeper, the ground cover I have chosen for its tiny magical star-shaped flowers that cover it from May through September. So out I go into the fray, starting in April and continuing into May and June, tearing out the clover and the buttercup and the crab grass and the dandelions in order to let the very forgiving blue star creeper and vinca and knick knick a chance to grow and thrive.
My husband laughs at my determination. "It's a losing battle," he says. And he is right. Along about July my enthusiasm for weeding starts to lag. By August I am postively weeded out. All my beliefs about weeding being good therapy, about how meditative and healing it is to get my hands in the dirt wanes. Instead I look out at the chaos that is my yard and have an intense urge to lie down in the hammock and read a book.
The trick is not to look too closely. People walk by and, when they see me in my yard, tell me, "I just love your garden! It makes my heart glad to look at it." These words would inspire me to longer weeding sessions in the early summer. Now I just look up from my book and say, "Thanks".
So the losing battle has been lost. The weeds knew it all along. They have let me come through and tear some of them up, knowing quite well that sooner or later I'd get tired. Each time I came through they bowed to my weeding will and started growing again as soon as I passed by. Their resiliency and ability to forgive my weeding ways was and is boundless.
I never feel so accepted for who I am as when I am weeding in my garden. "Come and play in the dirt," the plants seem to say to me. "We will let you pick who stays and who goes for just this little while. Then we will come back where we will and live in harmony, rose and mugwort, dandelion and hydrangea, fuchsia and buttercup."
We can all learn from the resiliency of weeds. They grow where they can. They allow us to pluck them from the soil. And then they grow again. And again. No judgement. No blame. Perserverence furthers.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
