eye to eye, heart to heart

I often think about how attached we are to our phones, tablets, i pads, etc...

When I'm driving I notice people walking along the street, heads down, phone in hand, oblivious to their surroundings, barely remembering to check both ways when they cross the intersection. Now it seems that we don't even talk on our phones; we text. Our first choice of communication is a brief text message or an email. We are moving farther and farther away from truly connecting with one another. 

I can remember when we first had e cards and Kindles and I thought to myself; I am never going to stop sending a specially hand picked card that I send through the mail nor will I ever replace my precious books with a hand held device. Two great loves throughout my life; books and cards. I've spent hours in book stores and Hallmark and in the post office pouring over all the newest stamps to put on my envelopes with my handwritten cards tucked inside. I've always loved the smell of books and the feel of them in my hands. I love the jackets, the weight of them, the fonts, turning the pages. I love the sound of my friends voices and laughter. A text message seemed such a lame substitute. And yet I have gradually altered my way of communicating. Over the years I find that I send fewer cards through the mail and make many more text messages than phone calls.

I have a few friends who still send cards through the US mail and oh, what a treat when I receive that special envelope! I love seeing the handwriting that I recognize as my friends. I love knowing that the card was chosen and the note written inside just for me. A love note. A reminder that I'm thought of.  A beautiful connection.

I still send the occasional card and I do still call my friends. I appreciate these connections now, more than ever. And, yes, I also appreciate the texts I receive and how quickly I can send  a word to someone I love. These little messages have also become dear to me, but nothing can ever replace hearing someone you love tell a story or say, "I love you", or share laughter or tears. My sister has started calling me almost daily and I look forward to our visits no matter how brief, no matter what we find to talk about. 

So, when I saw the following article on onbeing.org,I just had to share it: 

Less iPhone Spirituality, More Recharging Our Hearts' Batteries

BY OMID SAFI

People in many traditional cultures used to refuse to have their pictures taken, thinking that each photo takes something of their soul. We used to laugh at them, mock these foolish simpletons. I’m not laughing anymore. We do seem to have lost something of our souls to these… these things.

We keep saying that these devices are actually neutral, and it’s just a matter of how we use them. I am less and less sure. Yes, we need to have wisdom in using them, but somehow staring into a screen (as I do in writing these words, and you do in reading them) does not give us the same sustenance as staring into each others’ eyes.

Eye to eye,
heart to heart,
gentle touch of a hand,
There is a subtle exchange of energy that nurtures us.

We crave connection.
Our souls need intimacy.
It is the very sustenance of our hearts.

I wish that we had the wisdom to pay as much attention to our hearts and souls as we do to our devices. I wish we knew our selves, our hearts, and our souls well enough to go into that same kind of cosmic and existential panic when we begin to run on fumes. I wish we knew our own selves well enough to know how to sustain our own hearts and souls.

For some of us, it’s through prayer.
For some, it’s immersing ourselves in nature.
For some, music.
For some, the gentle touch of a loved one. 

So many of us walk around with the “battery” of our hearts showing red. Would that we were as kind to each other, and our own hearts, as we are to these devices that we are so quick to recharge.

iPhone spirituality? Not quite. What we need is less of iPhone spirituality, and more rejuvenation of heart and soul.

Let’s leave the last word to that sage of intimacy, Rumi:

There is some kiss we want
with our whole lives,
the touch of spirit on the body.

Seawater begs the pearl
to break its shell.

And the lily, how passionately
it needs some wild darling.

At night, I open the window
and ask the moon to come
and press its face against mine.
Breathe into me.

Close the language-door
and open the love-window.

The moon won't use the door,
only the window.

Thin Places

Thin Places are places where the eternal world and our physical world meet and mingle.

The term is widely used by mystics and those who write about Celtic Spirituality. The term thin place comes from the pre-Christian culture in western Europe - particularly Ireland - and refers to a place where the veil between this world the "other world" or the "eternal world" is thin. Old tales tell of people and beings of the other world being able to pass back and forth between worlds in thin places.

Why would anyone want to visit a thin place?  Because it exercises your spirit, makes you more in tune with your own spirituality.  Prayer seems more powerful.  Answers come more readily.  The sense of peace is overwhelming.

Santa Fe, NM

Tent Rock, Santa Fe

Many of us have had a personal experience of a thin place and, if we are really lucky; several thin places in our lifetime. I remember back to some of mine: My retreat in Old Snow Mass, Colorado, sitting alone sensing God talking to me. The Grand Canyon in winter. Oak Creek Canyon in the fall.  Summer hikes in the woods of Flagstaff.  A meadow in Greer on a  brisk winter  night; perfect silence, stars so close you could touch them.  Spying a herd of elk at sunset in the White Mountains of Arizona.  Summer rainstorms in  Flagstaff.  Thunderstorm rolling across the spacious skies of Cave Creek.  Walking the beach in San Diego. Breathing the freshest, sweetest air at the top of Haleakala in Kawaii. Snorkeling in Belize. Sunsets in Marco Island. The sacred Redwood Forest. Sedona RedRocks. The Arizona desert in springtime. Attending a concert, eyes closed, music filling my entire being... Contentment.  Wellbeing. Peace.  Breathing in.  Exhaling.

Wouldn't it be lovely if we could go back and forth between the thin place and visit our loved ones who have left this world? I would give anything for a moment with my sister, Beth or with my Dad....

Tent Rock, Santa Fe

I often remind myself of this thin veil between us. I want to believe that my sister and dad are right here,  closer than breath. Sometimes I'm blessed with a dream-visit. When I feel their  presence, happiness washes over me. 

Happy Birthday, John!

Yesterday was my father-in-law's birthday. He is quite a remarkable man and has led a very full and interesting life. I've always been impressed with his intelligence and his ability to do absolutely anything he set his mind to.

He is a retired orthopedic surgeon and has helped countless numbers of patients over the span of his successful career. In addition to his work here, he made several trips to Russia where he brought medical supplies and taught surgical techniques to doctors there. 

He loves music and learned to play classical guitar, violin and dabbled in the drums and piano. He has painted beautiful water color paintings. Years ago he was interested in sewing so he made a lined jacket with zipper and pockets! In his lifetime he has been a doctor, pilot, sailor, fisherman, musician, diver, runner, skier, tennis player, artist and author. 

His book on shoulder pain (sold on Amazon) teaches how to heal and maintain the health of your shoulder and possibly avoid surgery. You only need to read the reviews to see that many people have been helped by John's work in this area. 

Shoulder Pain? The Solution & Prevention: Fou… (Kindle Edition)

by John M. Kirsch M.D.

His family all have memories of John sharing a quote, a poem or a line from a song... his mind so quick and the words always accessible. How could he remember all those beautiful lines? He'd stroll in while we were all sitting around the table and say, "listen to this..." and then read from a favorite book or quote something that was sure to make you think or touch your heart or make you laugh. We  also have memories of his favorite music blasting from the stereo, filling the house (and the woods!) with Billy Joel, Elton John, Cecilia or whoever was his current obsession. 

He designed and built the "bistro"; a boat family and friends have enjoyed for years where a group can sit, enjoy a drink and a bite to eat while listening to music and cruising down the river! His kids have memories of early morning fishing trips, camping adventures and road trips with their Dad. I have memories of the best salmon dinners I've ever eaten! 

I remember John rousing us all from sleep many years ago, in the wee hours one very chilly morning to go outside and watch the meteor shower. No one but John wanted to get up at 2:00 a.m. but his enthusiasm couldn't be stopped. We threw on coats, grabbed mittens and hats and headed out to the sled hill behind the house laying on our backs looking up at the sky. That night we did see the meteorite shower and we also saw shooting stars and the magnificent northern lights. 

John enjoyed bringing home a fresh Christmas tree that stood in the living room each year, the tree was always so tall that it had to be hoisted with a pulley and secured at the ceiling, ladders were needed to hang the lights and decorations. One year to surprise us when we came for Christmas he draped the tall pines surrounding the house with twinkle lights.  In the summer he adorned the lawn and garden with giant pink flamingoes and huge butterflies that moved and twinkled at night.

It's a combination of so many things that make a house a home, establish childhood memories that are talked about and shared for generations and create a place where people want to gather together to celebrate  and share all the seasons of life. Thank you, John, for creating magical memories for your family, for instilling a love of beauty and art and learning, and for contributing so much to the world with your medical knowledge and research. You are very loved.