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Greta Garbo

Greta Garbo

As you head out this July 4th, with thoughts of independence in mind, I’d like you to consider liberation on a larger scale. I realize while living these seemingly, all-consuming, physical experiences we get caught up thinking that all we see, is all there is. Please consider that this is not so.

To see what rests under the surface of life one must first grow quiet. It is within the quiet place behind the mind that awareness of the soul is most felt. And the stillness of the soul is where we come to familiarize ourselves with the peace of the Divine. God is calm. God is non-judgment. God is joy. God is love. And God can be found within every minute of every day – even the most chaotic ones. You just have to go within to see it, feel it, experience it. And that dear reader, is freedom.

If this sounds daunting, if this sounds like a near impossible task, start by noticing your commentary. From the moment you wake until the moment you sleep your mind offers comments on everything. The first step to silencing the commentary is in noticing it. By shining the light of awareness, we begin to take back our power. No longer is the mind something allowed to run rampant. Instead, we see it as an unattended tool.

Just because a comment is voiced within your mind doesn’t mean that it is accurate. It doesn’t mean it is in your best interest or a guiding force. Nor does it mean you have to listen. Allow it its moment, then tell it to hush – even for a second. In time that second will grow into minutes. And those minutes will, if we are patient, become an hour. Soon, that hushed stillness will be our predominant way of being. And our judgments of the world will be few and far between.

It is liberating to allow yourself not to have an opinion on each and every thing we see. It is freeing to allow yourself to let go and let it be. It is true peace to feel this calm within chaos.

There have been many times, dear reader, when I could not find silence within my mind. During those moments I refrained from inundating the heavens with my feeble words, but instead, asked for words to be given unto me. What I received was: let it be. And so with that, I said those three words repeatedly until I felt a wave of calm settle over me.

Awareness is one of the greatest spiritual tools given to us. It is your key to freedom. Life mirrors our beliefs. When we free ourselves, we free the world around us. It’s a subtle ripple that carries with it a great spiritual impact. Use your key my dear, sweet reader, and set yourself free.


Written to: Beatles, Let it Be. One of the many songs on my spiritual playlist.

State of Mind

I was all of about seven at the time, but I remember the conversation well. It was when my mother shared the story of my aunt finding a four-leaf clover when young; this aunt being my father’s one and only sibling. Considering how things were playing out for my family at the time, I concluded with certainty that the finding of that four-leaf clover was to blame for her lot in life turning out so differently than that of my father’s. It took the unfurling of quite a few years before I concluded differently. Luck doesn’t have anything to do with one’s lot in life. Not really. However, thinking one is lucky – does. It’s all, a state of mind.

The mind is one of our greatest strengths, as well as one of our greatest weaknesses. It all depends upon what we do with this intricate energy center. We are the only creature that will envision what we do not want just about as often as envisioning that which we do. And when life gets dicey, generally speaking, we jettison the hopeful thoughts in lieu of fearful ones; making ample room for an auto-loop of bad case scenarios.

Even if one’s mind plays no part in determining one’s future, there is no question that the thought one has is directly correlated to how one feels. And considering that thoughts are energy, and energy builds, it is wise then to build from a place of hopefulness. Instead we do the opposite. And in time the mind sees these images as if they’re memories, things that have happened. We take those who are in our life and throw them onto the stage of our mind. We give this cast of characters the script, and we listen as they rehearse their lines. But these are not their lines. These are the lines of our own terrible making. We subject ourselves to hearing the very statements we don’t want to hear; seeing the very images we don’t want to see.

Sadly, these are not just harmless, transparent ruminations. If we live in the moment long enough we change our being and alter our course. We give momentum to the very thing we fear. If we live with the belief that we are unlucky, luck will never find us. Not because good things are not there for the taking, but because we are functioning, emitting and attracting, from a different polarity.

As you start the week, choose your state of mind. Remember that the mind often sees what it is prepared to see; so see yourself as lucky. Know that it’ll all work out in the end. Know that the right person, opportunity and experience will find you at just the right time. And if this thought seems a bit fanciful, its only because we repel what is not our inner belief. Unlike with love, in this respect, opposites do not attract. So choose to believe that you are loved. Choose to believe that you do not need to know the who, what, where and how – to believe that all is well. Change your belief, change your state of mind, change your life. At the very least, you’ll feel better. And isn’t that reason enough.


But Why?


I can remember with vivid color, the confounded look that swept across my mother’s face after having asked her what I (a nine-year old, with a very inquisitive mind), felt was a rather straight forward question.

Standing in the kitchen, my small feet planted on the brightly colored, orange and yellow carpeting that gave our kitchen an unmistakable seventies flare, I stared at my mother while voicing my question, “If ya’ only get to heaven through Jesus…then what about all the people who never heard of him? What about all the Indians?” To which, after a lengthy pause, she replied, “I don’t know. God just knows, that’s all.”

My mother was constantly hit with similar questions. In fact I had a Hefty bag full of questions resting on my mind. Periodically, while driving to the store, or moments before my mother would attempt to bring closure to another long day, I would launch a question in her direction. She was, after all, the person to whom I went for all guidance in this regard. She read the bible and believed in it, and while young, we were raised to believe in it too. However, I questioned everything that failed to make fundamental sense to me – and still do. On the flip side: I had no problem with the things in the bible that did make sense. So, like a rookie reporter from a small town newspaper, I would seek out my mother, wherever she was hiding, and expect a thorough explanation for all that baffled me. I needed her to patch the holes I felt were peppered throughout the bible. My mother, it seemed at the time, was content stepping over the holes.

“Why does the minister say it isn’t right to work or labor on Sunday, that it’s a day of worship and rest…then he goes out for lunch after church? The waitress and cook are forced to labor as a result of him wanting to go out for lunch?” I said eyeballing my mother carefully. On a separate occasion I asked, “Why is there a King James version of the bible? What happened to the other versions? Why did this King James guy need his own version?” I immediately zeroed in on the very real possibility that valuable information may have been, inadvertently or perhaps quite intentionally, left out of this valuable manuscript as it morphed from version to version.

“If it’s a sin to murder someone Mom, then did all the soldiers in Vietnam commit sin when they had to shoot the enemy?” I questioned, while looking at my Mom as she tried to enjoy her lunch. This question bothered me considerably. I needed an explanation, and she tried to offer one. “The soldiers were doing their duty. They were following orders,” she said. Later I asked, “Well, what if a person breaks into your home to steal food for their starving child…that’s a sin right? But it seems to me like God would understand why the person did what they did and it would be okay?” She reassuringly offered, “God understands Honey.” I nodded, pleased for the moment with the thought that there was a good deal of grey area involved with these so-called sins. “Mom – how do we know the commandments are what God really said…?”

So far, my children do not pepper me with these types of questions. And years ago I abandoned those particular questions altogether. Instead, I believe only those things that rest comfortably on my soul. When I want to commune with God I pray regardless of where I am. And when I question the existence of God or that which is bigger than myself, I merely look into my children’s eyes, let my own eyes scan across the natural vista that sits outside my window, or pay attention to the way my heart hurts when I see someone being treated poorly. I see and feel God in these things. And upon doing so, my questions, for the most part – are answered. To this day I still see the great divide between those that profess adherence to certain religions yet fail to let their actions mirror that which they say they believe. Nothing seems more blasphemous either. I don’t care what one believes, but at least live it with respect and strength of mind and character. With that said, my ways most likely wouldn’t feel right to someone else, and that is perfectly fine. Our journey is ours alone to map out, walk, and discover. But looking back, I can’t help but to smile. My mother tried in earnest to answer questions for which she had no answer. But she took the time to listen. God’s love rested within her patience.