Category: unequivocal love

The Secret of Success

So between a shit show and shining success…that is the attitude of what yesterday and today felt like, to which I write with a quick deviation from instruction on learning to live on a higher plane, because I’m not all too sure that what I feel at the moment is actually representative of living on a higher plane. To start, the day of the move to memory care ( and the day of my show) was laden with anxiety, mostly for my sisters who were on site, directing the move right under my mother’s nose (first time I’ve name her as THE family member), and me not being present, because I had committed to participate in an art show, feeling powerless to help in any way. At about an hour before I was done with my first day showing and selling my art, I started getting emergency phone calls dispatched from my mother’s life link button she wears around her neck. I spent the last portion of the show walking back in forth in the parking lot desperately trying to, and and delicately explaining to this company not to dispatch the emergency crew because she was safe at her new memory care facility, and was just unhappy with her circumstances. Finally, in a hysterical laughing, crying way…I just had to tell the truth, that my mother would continue to push this button because it was “her means” to call her husband, Elon Musk to whom he had given her full responsibility to distribute his money, to come and get her. I could hear silence on the other end, and then a choking voice (I knew she was covering up her laughter) that she would transfer me to her supervisor. Once connected, the same funny noise came, when she read the explanation of her underling, and I had to interject and say out loud, that yes, I knew it was crazy, and yes, it was it was ok to laugh…to which she let out the loudest guffaw I have every heard. Her response: Mam, this is the singular best story I have ever heard in this job (most of the details, I did not share here). She closed the account and even gave me a refund. for the rest of the year…to which the full staff at her new place and my sisters now think I am a rock star (because the staff finally witnessed, first hand, the transformation that we, my siblings, all knew personally that was akin to the most frightening horror story character ever created). In this moment, and I know I’m not being kind and loving unequivocally and I’m OK with that, given how this ordeal unfolded, I am not sorry for it, I released a huge burden. And if God happens to give me a smack of karma, I’m ok with that too. The true heroes of this story are my sisters and the people that have to deal with her now. We all did the best we could for her to honor my dad’s promise and keep her safe, and now realize she has made her bed and well….enough said.

The other side of the last two days is the pride I felt when so many people were amazed and impressed with my art. I received an invitation to display some of my pieces at the new libraries’ artists gallery wall this summer and also met a wonderful gallery owner who is excited to what we can do in the future. I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I felt pride at my ability to squelch the fear that started to rise up when I accepted the invitation at the library and also when I told the other gallery owner I would be proud to have her present one or more of my pieces in her space. There was also an artist who saw the piece I did called, “A portrait of an artist at rest” (Wang Yibo), and said that it reminded him of one of Rembrandt’s techniques regarding shading and depth. I absolutely had no fucking idea what he was talking about, and also didn’t tell him that I just acted by the seat of my pants, and simply thought that if I added an iridescent paint to the black it would give the appearance of a velvet background….which means that I guess that the attempt was successful…and even though I didn’t have a clue about anything else that came out of his mouth. I just smiled, like Mona Lisa and shook my head in the affirmative. Also, both my brother, (who came in from Florida) and my youngest sister came up to see me, in leu of seeing my mother and I was so shocked and pleased because my brother had never seen my art in person before. So, as far as I’m concerned at the moment, I am happy that I stood on my own two feet and weathered both storms…my mother and my own fear of success. I still have one more day to show tomorrow, but somehow I already feel like I’ve won and passed the test, because I know my mother is now safe, regardless of how angry she is…and I believe that am really good at what I do, end of story, which leaves me better equipped to live and love on a higher plane.

One quick epilogue that I am amending to this post…I added a picture of a little hedgehog who picked out a piece of jewelry…my favorite customer of the weekend. Also? I have conflicted feelings about a lot of the gushing about my work…often, I didn’t like it at all, because it felt like the focus was on the wrong thing and was often followed by words like I have no talent, or you are so lucky. I wanted them to be moved by the art, or feel encouraged to make their own or use their own gifts. Regardless of how many times I explained that I only started this a few years ago, and didn’t know what I was doing either, that if they felt a passion for it, they should just try. The important part is in the creation…because it changes the individual as well as the environment…most looked at me like I was nuts…and it made me feel sad. I am even more resolute to bring love into the world one piece of art at a time.

Success, the Within and the Without

The above is the first self portrait I did requested by my mentor early on…I updated it a bit, but still kept the rough edges of representing an early work…

I have been dreading this post…circumstantially, it has been physically (although my lungs are finally clearing from the crud), emotionally and materially overwhelming in every regard. And it was within this context that the subject of success, primarily my own, has been hammering in the forefront of my mind (and the incessant chattering of my spirit guide, which more than any other time lately, I even tried to convince myself was a function of my imagination…to no avail). I am a participant in a county wide art show coming up this weekend. That in and of itself is a challenge: finishing pieces, pricing, organization, presentation, packaging, setup utilizing all aspects of advertising and promotion offered to me, etcetera, etcetera all in the context of baring my soul to the general public, many who are perfect strangers, which I find deeply disconcerting. Also, at the same time, the moment came suddenly for “the move” to a safer space for a family member which, being the medical representative, demands my presence in a myriad of ways, from physically approving the space, to the myriad of checks, paperwork and meetings with medical professionals. The move, of course, happens over the same period of time as my show…which fucking sucks, especially since we can’t say anything to her until the last minute. I have to take time off work (the running of our clinic, which also takes a huge chunk of my time) this coming week to join with my sisters and healthcare representatives to break the news just prior to the move and it will not be pretty. Thankfully, I have amazing sisters who have generously given me permission to focus on the show during the actual move and they would do the dirty work, (my son Riley offered to help move the heavy stuff…love you for that, my bebe). They were all so excited to be present with me at this show, but now will sadly be otherwise occupied…leaving me to stand on my own two feet.

The other issue, which is a direct connection to what I described above, were the messages this person hammered into my head from as early as I could remember. Messages like: Don’t shine, you will make everyone else feel bad, Don’t stand out, Don’t be better than, Be quiet, Be invisible, You can’t do that, I won’t allow that, I won’t pay for that, Be this, don’t be that, Who do you think you are, You were built wrong, Respecting me means doing what I say, Being smart is good enough, don’t get greedy, You think you know so much, you’re so arrogant…etc. were axioms that took so much of my time and life to untangle that I was left not only with a skewed view of what my God given talents were, but how I was supposed to use them, actually, of how I am still supposed to use them. This is NOT in any way, shape or form, a mechanism for your pity, that is insulting to me, especially since there are so many others who have risen from more harsh circumstances than mine, It is, however, merely an explanation of how I ended up where I did. As in all our lives, some of the worst points of darkness, offer the greatest opportunities for uncovering a deeper and more beautiful light, and that is how I am trying, amidst great consternation, to look at it. But…as was made clear by all that has been ruminating in my mind and intuition, I still have some dismantling to do with some of the more pervasive messages, namely, it is perfectly acceptable to have been given many different kinds of gifts from God that may make me stand out ahead of the herd and it is time to stop running from them, regardless of how uncomfortable it makes me feel right now. My focus must be on taking the “talents” I’ve been given, like the parable says, and make something of them. I have taken comfort in Teilhard’s definition of success: The slow work of God often involves passing through stages of instability, meaning success requires patience and faith in God’s ultimate plan rather than immediate and measurable results, and how well one acts according to God’s will and participates in the ongoing, creative work of the universe. True success is moving toward a greater awareness of a “higher” state of being where individual spirits converge and unite in love. I have also taken comfort in the words of scripture: love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love. Never. Fails.

I had a sudden and harsh realization amidst all the myriad of emotions this week, that I will never reach a higher state of being, or converge and unite in love unless I face my own fear and worthiness of success. While I cognitively know how capable I am, and talented…I do hide and am comfortable in anonymity, which, according to the parable is tantamount to burying my talents in the ground. (and the very reason this parable has always made me a little sick to my stomach). So, regardless of my natural inclination to be “supportive” rather than be in the lead…it is important, at this point anyway, to prove to myself and “her” that I can be and will be in the forefront of a creative movement, even if only momentary, and that is the lesson at this appointed time. Ironically, the circumstances of the moment only seem to serve as the exact incentive for to me to forge ahead. It is her messages that I bury in the ground, and not my talent…and doing so with just my own two hands and feet seem to be the appropriate way to do so.

Building on the Richness in my Head

Holy Thursday, the first day in the Christian triduum, which represents Holy Thursday, Good Friday and Easter Sunday, is the most difficult for me. The last supper occurs on that day, as well as Jesus visit to the Garden of Gethsemane where he asks his fellow disciples to stay awake with him as he prepares for his coming sacrifice…in which they all fall asleep, leaving him alone in his fear and despair. I’ve written about this before: https://maryfrancesflood.com/2013/03/30/agony/ Ironically, it was when I finally fell asleep last night after hours of trying to do so that I finally received some comfort and insight.

I was in the garden…after the fact. At first, I sat quietly and waited, and finally he came in his risen form and I tried to breathe amidst the turmoil of the moment. He reached over and took my hand in his and with the other gently turned my face toward his and looked into my eyes and said: “Tell me.”

“Remember when that priest told me the movie in my head was much better than the real thing, and that I was setting myself up for disappointment? In this moment, more than ever, I feel like he may have been right. I am finding that trying to bring the richness of what is in my mind and make tangible in the world feels impeded or blocked at every turn. I so want to honor the choice you made…” The tears began to flow, “that you bore the weight of my sin, of our sins.” He rubbed his thumb over my hand and waited for me to continue. “Sitting here, is where you chose to sacrifice yourself so that people like me would have unlimited access to the power of love to wield in the world. I have spent my lifetime trying to figure out how to do that and looking around, I’m not too sure I am any better at it than I was when I started.” He looked at me with brow furrowed and sighed deeply.

“Stop trying to be perfect, you are not me!” And he put his hand up by my mouth before I could interrupt him. “I never expected you to love perfectly, or follow exactly in my footsteps. This”, pointing to the garden “was my journey, my choice, my sacrifice. I embraced it in the beginning. I knew everything that was coming, and even though I became human, and I was afraid, your beautiful face and the faces of so many other beautiful blueprints were my inspiration in that moment to say yes, to what was required of me. You, Mary Frances and others like you gave me hope that it would be all worth while. Your love and light inspired me in the darkest moment of my journey to drink from my Father’s cup. Love saved us all in that moment…and I want you to look into my eyes and let that sink in. Your journey is unique to you alone, with all you need to succeed already given to you and I am perfectly happy with your progress thus far. But I sense the depth of your sadness…so talk to me.”

“But what of those who you love, but don’t love you back? I don’t want to be a resounding gong or a clanging symbol like Paul talked about. I have forgiven and tried to appreciate all the good things I’ve been given and I’ve tried hard to love according to Scripture’s definition, promising to be unequivocal, but when I expect the same in return,…” Crest fallen, I started to fall apart, a bit, and in an incredible intimate gesture, Jesus pulled me on his lap and held me tight.

“You can’t make someone love you, if they don’t (like the song you love says)…but what you need to know is that how she decided to live with, or bury her gifts is her decision alone. I saw how hard you worked to be a good daughter. And now, I know signing that paper placing her where she is safe, is an act of love, on your part, and on your siblings part and not a betrayal. Sometimes wielding love is painful.” He turned my face toward his. “But that isn’t everything, is it?”

I sighed deeply and shook my head in the negative. “No. but compared to your sacrifice, it seems almost insipid to bring it up.”

“Love in any expression is never insipid. I would have thought you would know that by now.” He took a deep breath and continued, “All I have ever asked of you, of all of you, is believe that I am the way, the truth and the life and that none of you come to God, to love except through me…” he paused, looked at me and smirked “and I can already see the wheels turning in your head, so when I say ‘through me’ you know I mean by how you love one another, as I have taught you, so trust the plan I have for you and utilize all the gifts you’ve been given to shine your light in the darkness and you will move mountains. And believe me when I say all who seek me will find me. We are tethered together, you and I, and you need to trust that my grace is sufficient, and trust those whom I have placed with you on your journey. You are never alone. Simply concentrate on utilizing your gifts to bear good fruit in the world, and your song of love will shape the future.” He looked deep into my eyes, and said: “I know all the prayers you asked for, in goodness, not only for yourself but for others, and I always keep my promises. Remember, Love believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never fails…Ever” He kissed my on the forehead and I woke up to a new day,

I hope my dream can inspire you. Have a Blessed Easter…and never give up on the movie in your head.

Dimensionality, Horton and a Who

I often find it difficult to write about abstract ideas in a way that gives them a certain dimensionality so they become more real, more concrete, and also so people don’t look at me like I’m nuts. It’s why Jesus used parables to instruct us about God, his own ministry, and his purpose of reconciling God and humanity and connecting to a world, much of which at the time anyway, was beyond human comprehension. So, using the same kind of idea, I am appropriating, once again, a story that I think gives concrete dimensionality to what living on a higher plane looks and feels like from my perspective. “Horton Hears a Who” by Dr Suess is one of my favorite books from child hood and I have to thank my older brother for bringing it to mind one day when we were talking.

The gist of the story is this: Horton, a big elephant is relaxing in the water one day when a speck of dust floats by and Horton could swear he hears a noise coming from it. Because his ears are more sensitive than other animals, he thinks that maybe the noise was a cry for help. It turns out it was, a creature so small was calling from atop the speck of dust that he can barely hear him. Concerned that the speck of dust would float into the water and drown this small creature, Horton puts the speck of dust on a clover and delivers the most famous line of the book: “I’ll just have to save him. Because after all, a person’s a person, no matter how small.” Horton realizes that there is a whole other world living on that speck of dust, and the voice he was hearing belonged to the mayor of Whoville, an entire town of small creatures and right then and there commits to keeping them safe. Unfortunately, a kangaroo and her “joey” over hear and see Horton and mock him for conversing with a speck of dust and because of their small ears they can’t hear the little Who and decide that Horton can’t either. No amount of convincing by Horton in explaining how sensitive his ears are is enough to elicit trust from the kangaroos that he is, in fact, telling the truth. Soon the whole jungle hears about the speck of dust and there a many who try to take away the clover and one in particular, a nasty black bottom eagle, finally succeeds in grabbing the clover tosses it into a huge field of clovers. Horton spends night and day going through the whole field and finally, to the great happiness of the mayor of Whoville, gets reunited with Horton…only to be confiscated again by the largest Kangaroo and other jungle animals. They plan on boiling the speck of dust in oil, and in a last ditch panic, Horton implores the mayor of Whoville to have everyone yell at the same time, which they do. Surely everyone had to have heard the singular cry. But to no avail, they don’t. They overcome Horton and cage him. In a last desperate moment Horton implores the mayor to check and make sure everyone is doing their best. The mayor does one last search and sure enough, he finds his small son, JoJo, playing with a yoyo. He grabs him and brings him back to the top of the town, and with JoJo’s little “YOPP” as the final addition, the sound finally travels to all the other animals ears. Horton rejoices and says: “Their voices were heard! They rang out clear and clean. They’ve proved they ARE persons, no matter how small. And their whole world was saved by the smallest of ALL!”

I love this story. It gives credence and context to my journey, not because my story mirrors the Suess tale specifically, but in ways that challenge individual truths and perspectives to go beyond their direct experience and be open to embrace truths that are just beyond their present periphery. At times I have felt like all three major players in this story, Horton, for hearing a whispers that no one else can hear, the mayor for knowing we need help from a world beyond, and little JoJo who even in his smallness turns the tide to save their world. I have felt exhausted, in the past, knowing that many don’t believe or understand the whispers I hear, or in the cry to heaven that our world needs help and we can’t be saved on our own, and in finally in the belief that one small voice joining with all the others who demand to be heard can turn the tide. I don’t feel exhausted anymore, because my periphery has shifted, I know without a doubt that it is in loving unequivocally and the power and efficacious actions of love in all its expressions that strengthens the ties of God’s beautiful blueprints, and is the very source and breath of what living on a higher plane requires.

As I move forward, this little story gives me hope, and if you choose to read it, I hope it gives you hope too; a hope that we the many, both large and small, can join our voices together and with love as the source of our power cast out the the darkness that surrounds us, and shine a light toward a brighter future.

I’ll just have to save him. Because, after all,
A person’s a person, no matter how small.

Faith…A Summary

Generally, my last post on the yearly theme comes with a bit of relief, because most often having conquered what I believe was expected of me over the course of the year leaves me enough time to celebrate the season of light (I steer away from the word “Christmas” because of the commercialization of it). Not so, this year. If anything, I think there will be a continued onslaught of lessons until I find the rhythm necessary to move into or onto, not sure which is more accurate, a higher plane (next year’s theme). I’ve come to believe that understanding faith and building a strong foundation necessary to move forward on my journey as a whisperer and wielder of love more fully and accurately isn’t like learning a language…that once you know it, that’s it, you’re done. Faith and wielding love are more like walking on water, no two situations or initial conditions are the same, and you need to develop a spiritual proprioception to keep your balance. I think the spiritual vertigo I’ve experience this year is an apt description for all the ups and downs I’ve had on this journey, and it didn’t dawn on me until now that I was approaching these situations too concretely.

The essence, experience and unlimited nature of faith and love can’t be understood by restricted concrete and formulaic expressions but are more akin to water, the world of the unconscious or living beyond the limitations of human dimensions. Allowing faith and love, both of which are the source of my blueprint, my dance, practically demands that I “jump out of the boat”, as it were, where I can move without the restrictions of form and convention, that I suspend the limitations of human dimensions and embrace the divine. If I can’t do that, then all this talk about faith in the God of love means nothing at all, at least to me anyway. Recently, after a particular difficult crisis of faith and failure at wielding love, even though momentary, in hindsight I watched how easily I fell into bad habits, the details of which are immaterial except to say I have figured out that my own personal rhythm is so much stronger that I have ever given it credit, so that when I stopped allowing outside forces, for lack of a better term, to throw me off balance or drag me down, I did quickly pull myself together by taking a moment to breathe, remember, and hold onto firmly to everything I’ve learned this year and in doing that, I got my rhythm back.

Looking back in hindsight, like I’ve done after most themes, I never could have predicted how it would have unfolded. In all honesty, I think given where I started, and knowing what it would entail, I would have hid in a virtual cave…especially given all the “feeling” and “sharing” I had to do. And, because God’s imagination is so much better than ours and is always right, in my case anyway (and whether you think I’m crazy or not, also the presence and influence of my spirit guide) …I am not the same woman as I was last January, not by a landslide. In some ways I feel smaller, softer and more delicate than when I began, and in other ways I have become one fucking badass butterfly. I have worked incredibly hard at what I am weakest at, especially in a public forum, often hating the exposure, but it brought me to such great heights and broadened my viewpoint so much that I am incredibly grateful, and also proud, mostly because I think it has been some of the hardest work I’ve ever done and I rose to every challenge. My soul was cracked wide open, and it won’t be on mute anymore; the sound of my heart became more full and more melodic than ever before, because I learned to love unequivocally. The God of love made me just as I am, and in embracing that blueprint, I am looking forward to all the comes as a result.

I am thankful and humbled by all those established and new trajectories out there who have shown me love along the way. I pray for you always and know I love you and that you will never be alone. Because all things asked in goodness are granted: may the God of love protect you, give you hope, strength and courage, and help you celebrate the impact your beautiful blueprint will have on the world. You are a light to the world, and some, in particular, a light to mine.

Faith in Inspiration

So, this post may sound a bit esoteric but bear with me. I have found standing in the still point and being open to receive particularly frustrating and confusing, especially since what was “coming to me” felt like it originated somewhere else and didn’t belong to me…like I was a receptacle or something. I’m not saying that I felt like I was being a cosmic garbage can, but more specifically a receptacle for other’s energy that I could only sense once I was standing still, unmoving as it were. It felt like energy that came to me because I was the one that opened a conduit by sending out trajectories of love outward to help let other’s light and blueprints shine. Think of it like I explained how quantum theory changes the dynamic of knowing the placement of one molecule when measuring another because the probabilities of what that becomes change according to the mechanism of the tool of observation. I know that’s too heady, so suffice it to say, when I was asked to stand still and stop moving, there was energy there all around me, coming from the sources to whom I was projecting my prayers of love. I also wondered if that was why I had so many conflicting emotions and why I truly was all over the place. That, coupled with figuring out why exactly I was learning to embrace and understand all aspects of love, especially where I was weakest and whether or not I would move forward loving unequivocally, I think I have figured some things out.

OK, I took a break to go out and have supper (I really didn’t feel like cooking) and while I won’t go into specifics, my phone blew up and gave me the undeniable proof I needed that I was right on the mark with my above assessment. While I know I had to go through this on my own, (although it would have been nice to get a heads up from my spirit guide that I was on the right track) I will say this. I know I have been struggling with the whole God’s whisperer role, its purpose and practice…now I no longer feel that way. I compare it to facing a difficult challenge, and the moments of doubt that plague me right before I complete it, or get to the top, wondering whether or not all this struggle was worth it just to have that doubt obliterated when I actually do complete it…like getting to an ever higher mountain and my view is forever changed. I see how empowered I am as a result. You think I would know this by now, but in truth…every new challenge has pushed the envelope of usual convention so far, that it almost seems reasonable to doubt whether or not there actually is an envelope to push and I just made all this shit up. Thankfully, God came through and offered me an insight and reward that let me know I had fulfilled the challenges of embracing unequivocal love. BOOM!

From my small and simple place, a world away somewhere in a crowd, in a foreign place (a line from my new favorite song) I, God’s whisperer, and now muse…I send out to all those who come here for inspiration or are a simply a fellow sojourner on a path of evolving faith and love, an even more powerful prayer, because I now get why I needed to understand and embrace all manners of love and what it requires so I can wield it more effectively. I feel demonstrably different and I am physically a different person than when I began this year of faith. I am a more powerful source of energy and prayer for God because I asked to be, especially for those members of the body Christ who may need help and felt alone. As a result, I want to extend unequivocally to all of you who are working to express your beautiful blueprints in the manner that love requires of all of us and will become a light to the world, a prayer, that when you ask in goodness are promised by Christ that it will be given to you:

I pray, as promised by the Savior that all things asked in goodness shall be granted to me, that I will be unencumbered by doubt and fear as I utilize the gifts you have given me to spread my gift, my blueprint as light to the world and become a tool to defeat darkness, and that I can break through my own limitations, and like Peter did step out of the boat when Jesus said “come” and allow the power of all Jesus promised to bring hope to the world through the simple gifts you have given me. I pray that through my example that others too can celebrate their gifts and share them with the world, thereby strengthening the body of Christ and bringing forth the Kingdom of Heaven,

From my vantage point, I just want to let you know that you will never be alone, that I am praying for you always from a much more powerful position than when I began…that doesn’t mean I’m done with my journey, just this part of it (thank you Jesus, it almost killed me). I must say, too…that many of you have inspired me as well and forever changed the way I see a wheat field. I know I will never be the same, and I have you to thank for that. Ok, I have to stop before I dissolve into a blathering idiot. Peace and love to you.