ProsperiTee

Sanding My Ego

Years ago I visited San Diego for the first time. Loved it. Loved every part of it.

Flying home to New York, I noticed the sound-alike relationship between San Diego and sandy ego.

As I've been working (hard) for the past few years on taming my ego, the homophone took a slight shift to Sand the Ego.

Sand the ego to reduce its size, weight, importance, significance, problems caused, and all that (and more). Sanding my ego at least down to smaller size...cause I see getting it down to Absolute Zero as a life-long task that's maybe longer than this lifetime.

Anyway. I'm pleased by my efforts. Want to share a few with you so that you can offer me more ways to sand my ego. And, hey, I'm OK with any grade ego sandpaper you'll offer me: fine to coarse.

The Rock
I kicked the rock. The rock didn't move. I fell. I skinned my hand. (Want to know more?)

My hand has healed and I run past that rock a couple of times a week. First few passes, I gave the rock a gentle kick: gentle enough not to trip me, firm enough I felt in time the asphalt would let go of the rock.

I was grateful when I realized my ego's what wanted the rock moved. I could rationalize kicking the rock, but it was just my ego still doing battle with a small stone, still seeking revenge.

Maybe I'll never say "Hi!" to the rock, but neither will I kick it anymore.

Wee Me
The first Sunday I made the announcements in church, I really puffed up. Were I a peacock, my tail would have knocked people down. Navy blue suit. Favorite striped shirt. Smart executive tie. Gettin' to be on the platform! Yeah!

Then I walked to the podium. I smiled at the singers behind me. I turned and looked at the 200 people filling the sanctuary.

POP! I literally heard my ego burst. I heard the words, "They're just announcements. Not burning tablets!" I was doing a simple service for everyone there. But, was feeling proud of my realization a (f)act of ego?

Breathe Blessings
Walking Alex (dog). Watching clouds. Waiting to hear first bird of the morning.

Each of these I punctuate with conscious breaths. The stillness of the morning gives me time and space to attend my breathing: inhale...exhale...inhale...exhale.

And coupling what I do/see/hear with the grace-full-y simple act of breathing reminds me of all the blessings I (we) enjoy. Such gifts as those--and the infinitely more gifts we receive--put my egotivation to shame.

And make it a little easier for me to sand away some more of that ego.

Please share with me your sandpaper.

Thank You for the Pat on the Back!

I woke up this morning grateful for a wonderful new kudo!

David Zinger, mentioned, quoted, and posted here several times in the past, writes Slacker Manager (blog) along with Phil Gerbyshak.

David has just paid me the supreme honor of inducting me into the Order of the Golden Slacker. And you can read about it ... here.

David says these are the attributes of a Golden Slacker...

1. infuse work with passion and purpose
2. focus on smarter not harder work
3. ensure that work is effective and efficient
4. leverage learning for results
5. commit to both personal and professional development
6. draw out the strengths of others and themselves
7. transform “me thinking” to “we thinking”  
8. weave results and relationships into good management
9. delegate for results and development
10. engage in lifelong learning in diverse and multiple ways
11. value giving and serving ahead of taking and being served
12. willingly admit when they don’t know something
13. use all available resources
14. laugh as leaders - taking work seriously and themselves lightly

and so I am truly honored.

But I wonder about the Golden part. Anything to do with being (almost) over 60?

Thanks, David!

It Really Does Not Matter Where. Or When.

Since becoming a prayer chaplain at my church, I have loved discovering not to confine praying to a proper time or proper place.

I've loved learning that any time I pray is prime time. And any place I pray is right here, with full play on right.

I so remember growing up to the tune of bedtime prayers. Child mind locked in that prayers happened either right before I went (or was supposed to go) to sleep or in church on Sunday. And no other time.

No, the pure-meal blessing never seemed like a prayer to me. It seemed more like a somewhat weird  requirement that we say thank you before we knew we really liked the food. And the invocations before high school football games I thought was to warm up the PA system.

And all that's changed. How sweet the changes.

I love speaking directly to God when I say my morning thank you's. That's often when I'm dog-walking. I believe God appreciates multi-tasking and loves us both even if a "Let's go, Alex" comes between my thanks for successes and thanks for loves.

Sitting on my balcony after the sun sets and the sky is still orange-pink and turning to dark blue, outstanding peace comes when I pray for those who crossed my path and those who crossed my mind during the day.

Stopping at an intersection and swapping smiles with the homeless man or woman on the roadside, sometimes I offer a bottle of water or a tee shirt. I always offer, "May you know you have God's blessing."

And now that I've taken some 65,000 meals, my advance warning system makes me pretty confident I'll enjoy what I'm about to eat. So the blessing really is a prayer; it's both of thanks and of joy.

I even get the chance to pray with and for other people. In person. Over the phone.

When prayer was freed from the "Bedtime Only" confines I'd created, my days became longer, fuller, richer.

And falling asleep is much easier. It follows prayers that have much more meaning.

Photo Source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/portland_mike/2193768623/

You Can't Pay Too Much Attention...

to a child, that is.

I was blessed by the chance to take a friend's little girls swimming this past Sunday.

Yes, they almost wore me out. I had only one more let me jump off your shoulders in me, maybe.

But as I watched them (closely) and noticed the 30+ other kids clamoring in and around the pool, it occurred to me that we cannot give any child too much attention. No matter how much observation, recognition, praise, congratulation or adoration the child wants, it's never too much.

Listening to them. Looking at them. Applauding whatever they do. Laughing with them. Oohing and aahing with them. All is only for the good: as in for their good and for our good, too.

It fuels self-worth. It stimulates observation. It teaches respect is an action. It brings us closer. All of us.

OK. Easy for a guy to say who's never raised a child, done very little baby sitting, and who likes a fair amount of attention himself. Myself.

But I don't have to be a parent to know it's true. I'm thinking about who and what we become when we grow up. I'm thinking about how lucky I was to get tons of attention from my parents, even after they divorced. And I'm thinking about those kids in the pool Sunday. I'm betting they'll be incrementally better (better off, better adapted, better behaved, better people?) for every time they knew someone was watching them. Willingly.

 Most often said and usually loudest Sunday afternoon was some variation of Watch me!

Whether to watch the cannon-balling, swimming underwater, flailing the freestyle stroke, or diving to the bottom to retrieve the quarter, the need for audience was paramount.

And why would/should/could any of us not give the attention? Willingly.

Slow the Spin

Sometimes we simply take on too much....

and our world spins too fast.

Everyone has their own remedies for those times. Here are just three of mine; I would love to read some of yours.

• Remember to breathe. Our reaction to tension, stress, anxiety is to hold our breath until we have to gasp. Practice conscious breathing (breathe in slowly, fully; hold for a 4 count; breathe out slowly, completely). The more you practice the more quickly you learn to use this as the healthier "spin response."

• Use your memory. Select a real and true memory (person, place, event, object...) that brings you peace. Spend enough time building a clear and distinct image of that memory. Give it all the specific details you can. Practice calling it to memory at a second's notice. Allow it to be your "spin distraction".

• Relax your face. An amazing amount of energy goes into "keeping face." Consequently, a great deal of energy is saved (and relaxation retrieved) when we allow ourselves a couple of minutes of allowing the muscles in our face to rest. Practice letting your face be at ease. Start with your forehead. Loosen the muscles in your brow. Move that relaxation to your eyebrows and eyelids. Then to cheeks, nose, lips, chin. Enjoy this "spin release."

In some ways and at some times we definitely want to be in the spin of things. At other times, however, we want the spin to slow down, even stop, so we might step out of it...if only for a moment.

Build your own set of "spin off" techniques. Share them, please.

 

Bumper Pool

The 6 year old boy walked with rapid, purposeful strides alongside the swimming pool. He turned his head over his shoulder and delivered rapidfire monologue to someone out of sight. "I'll get it fast and bring it back..."

The 70something gentleman approached in the opposite direction. His stride was measured, steady and

cautious. He saw the boy approach. The boy walked, talked, and continued to gaze away from his path.

The gentleman's eyes measured the distance. His mind calculated time til impact and how soon he should speak up.

His lips rose in a playful grin. He so clearly enjoyed the collage: a present reminder of past youth, the creative tension of the wait, his balancing "Shall I warn him now?" and "Shall I let us bump?"

The gentleman let his breath out slowly. The boy shouted, "...if I find it. I'll bring it back if I find it. If I can't find it..."

Gentleman lifted his hands slightly, just a foot's distance before he would gingerly fend off the boy.

The braking power only a 6 year old could demonstrate. Head spun. Bare feet clasped the pavement. The boy moved lithely to his right, around the man. Never missed a step. "...I won't bring it back and you'll just have to...."

The gentle man slowly shook his head, seemed to say, "Good boy. Life offers plenty of bigger obstacles."

Trinity of Fear

I love when my early morning run produces insights.

I was just running along, neither fast nor slow. Sort of in a groove, giving thanks that I am able to run, that I am motivated to run, that I so enjoy every run. Listening to, focusing on my breath, and letting everything else just happen.

I did not see the fat, brown squirrel until I frightened it.

Squirrels almost always think the safest route out of harm's way is directly across the path of approaching harm. I thought I heard it squeal as it darted across the sidewalk, almost stepping on my Nike'd toes.

The squirrel, not too chicken to cross the road, startled the driver of the pale blue Cadillac. He braked. His tires squealed on the pavement.

My turn to jump, worried he might dodge the squirrel and swerve sidewalk-ward. I may have uttered a squeal.

The Cadillac stayed its course. The driver and I waved, smiling, to one another.

The squirrel raced to the far side of the road.

Several additions to my thanksgivings. All's well that ends.

Photo Source: http://www.flickr.com/photos/19923675@N07/2005573451/

Change the World

Eric Clapton's not the last one with the idea to change the world.

My friend Leah sent me an e-mail after church last week. She had a wonderfully simple idea and honored me by asking me to work it with her. (The word work should not be taken literally.)

Here's what she wrote:

My favorite quote is from A Course in Miracles: 
“There are only two emotions ~ love and fear.” 
For me, changing the world means increasing the love
and decreasing the fear.
It would be cool if we could meditate for 10 minutes a day,
on a specific thought about love.

At 5:30 this morning, in our separate homes and in our separate ways, Leah and I started Meditating Love to Change the World.

Before I tell you how it looks, sounds, and feels, I'll tell you what we anticipate from doing it:

• Increased displays of infinite types of love among the people we see each day.
• Enhanced awareness of those displays because we're more tuned in to seeing them.
• An astounding feeling of joy (and love) at the start of every day.
• The chance to share this simple process with any/everyone each of us knows.
• What else? Who knows?

Here's how we are doing it:

• Begin by saying the simplified Ho'oponopono prayer:
  • I apologize.
  • Please forgive me.
  • Thank you.
  • I love you.
• Meditate for 10 minutes. This week LOVE is our mantra.


• End by saying the simplified Ho'oponopono prayer:
  • I apologize.
  • Please forgive me.
    
  • Thank you.
  • I love you.

We will change our mantra every week, seeking to bring in as many perspectives and types and meanings of love as we can think of.

For sure, I'll keep you posted!

Photo source: Toshimasa Ishibashi, http://www.flickr.com/photos/iandeth/2470183613/

An Easy Commitment

I decided last Monday to take on more discipline and more direction in my spiritual journaling.  

I sat down and in about 5 minutes listed 20 topics. I promised myself I would write for 45 minutes about one topic a day, for 20 days.

I am 4 topics/4days to the good.

Perhaps you can use the topics.

1. The Kingdom of God: What Is It? Where Is It? How Is It?
2. Prosperity: Spiritual and Material
3. The 4 Parts We Are: Body, Mind, Emotion, Spirit
4. Love: What's Love Got to Do with It?
5. Meditation: How much? How many ways? How?
6. Prayer
7. Service
8. Giving
9. Anger/Forgiveness
10. Blessing: Being Blessed, Knowing Blessing, Feeling Blessed
11. One and Oneness: The "in God's image" Thing
12. Truth and Truths
13. Searching/Asking
14. Jesus and the Christ Spirit
15. The Christ Spirit in Each of Us
16. Bringing God Home
17. Does God Change? Does God Learn?
18. Time and Space (and Confusion)
19. Ego: Edging God Out?
20. Real and Reality: What Is? What Is Not?

Have fun.

The Ouch of It All!

Seemed just a small rock, not much larger than a golf ball. Not unusual for me to give such a rock a little kick when I'm running past.

I attempted to do just that yesterday morning, enjoying a wonderful early run. As I swung my left foot forward to give the stone a gentle poke, I realized it might be just the tip of a larger rock, embedded in the asphalt.

The rock snagged my foot. Suddenly I was stretched out in the air, headed for a bumpy landing on the black, rough pavement. In my mind, I said to me, "You should have known better."

Fortunately I used my palms only to break the fall, not to stop my slide along the asphalt. The result was loss of skin, not broken wrists.

One curse word, several deep breaths, quick check of palms, knees, and calves for degree of injury, and I was up and running. I kept my eye open for someone's sprinkler I might use to rinse the grit and blood.

I found one. Then as I ran on, I alternately grinned at my mistake and smiled with the gratitude that all I did was scrape my palms.






Now, when I got home I was not so grateful for the hydrogen peroxide.