The Gift Worth Giving

Della and Jim, a young married couple, are very much in love. They live modestly, able to afford groceries and pay their rent, but there is nothing left over for extras, including savings. It’s Christmas Eve and Della only has $1.87 to buy Jim a Christmas gift. Desperate to find something perfect for him, she ends up selling her hair to a neighborhood beauty salon and uses the money to buy a platinum gold chain for the cherished pocket watch Jim inherited from his father. She can hardly wait for him to come home to surprise him with the gift.

When Jim comes home from work he can’t believe his eyes. “You cut your hair?” “Your hair is gone?” Della fears that Jim no longer finds her pretty without long hair. She admits to him that she sold her hair to buy him his present. Then Jim gives Della her present, a beautiful set of jeweled hair combs she had long admired, but never thought she’d receive. Now that her hair is short the combs are useless. Della shows Jim the watch chain she bought for him, and he tells her he sold his watch to get her the combs.

O. Henry, the author of the story, “The Gift of The Magi,” reminds us that even though Jim and Della are left with hair combs and a watch chain that are functionally useless, the real gift is their willingness to give up something cherished as an expression of their love for one another. The real gift is the gift of love and the story behind the gift.

A thing gains value based on its story. The gift is never as important as the story it tells.The most sentimental things aren’t things at all, but stories of the people and places we love, and the parts of ourselves we share.

Linda was a young single mother of eight-year-old twin daughters. She was in the last stages of cancer with little hope of survival unless she received a particular form of chemotherapy. Even then her chances were minimal, but there was still hope. She had no health insurance and the cost of the treatment, $600,000, was prohibitive. In a last attempt to save her life, Linda’s sister contacted the pharmaceutical company, and told them Linda’s story. As it turns out the company had a program for people in need. To everyone’s surprise, including Linda’s medical team, the pharmaceutical company granted the chemotherapy as a gift.

Unfortunately for Linda it was too late. But when you give lovingly from your heart, you never know who might benefit. The following year, around Christmas time, Linda’s sister received a note from a man she didn’t know which said, “I have my holidays to look forward to because of a gift I received. Medications intended for your sister became available for my wife’s cancer treatment and saved her life. Thank you.” He had spent the better part of a year tracking down Linda’s sister to express his gratitude. While Linda’s sister still wishes that Linda could have benefitted from the treatment, she cherishes the gift of gratitude received from a total stranger.

The impulse of love that flows through the heart is what moves us to give. It’s what motivated Linda’s sister to call the pharmaceutical company to ask for help. It’s what motivated Della and Jim to sacrifice something they valued to be able to give to each other. It’s what motivated a grateful husband to search for and find the woman responsible for securing medication that saved his wife’s life. So when you feel moved to give, do it. Don’t stop the pure flow of love in your heart. Holding back the desire to give is painful. Give all you have to each moment, holding nothing back. When you give, you are in alignment with the flow of life itself.

Dare to give what you most want. If you want love, give it the best way you can. If you want help, give support to others. If you want connection, instead of trying to get friendship, offer it.

Start living life by paying attention to your gifts, the ones you give and the ones you receive. What is the story the gift you are giving tells? What is the story behind the gift you are receiving? Don’t just focus on the thing. Remember, the most precious gifts of all are the gifts that tell a story. Cherish the story as much as the gift, and then make sure you tell the story.

Namaste

The Power of Stillness

There was once an Indian sage who performed amazing miracles. One day a woman who was deeply distressed approached him. Her daughter was getting married and the family, who had no money, needed 15 grams of gold for her dowry. The sage reminded the woman that he was not a goldsmith, and advised her to sit in stillness, focus on her breath, meditate and wait patiently for a solution to her dilemma. In the meantime, a wealthy merchant and long-time disciple of the sage approached. He had just been given the news that he was in declining health, due to a pre-diabetic condition. He asked for the sage’s prayers and blessing. The sage told him to stop eating sugar and assured him that if he followed this advice all would be well. In gratitude, the wealthy merchant gave the sage a leather pouch as a gift. Without hesitation, the sage found the woman whose daughter was to be married and gave her the pouch. When she opened it she fell to her knees in gratitude, for inside the leather pouch she found 15 grams of gold.

Sometimes being still is the most powerful thing we can do. Rather than acting on the advice, “Don’t just sit there, do something!,” we are better off taking the advice, “Don’t just do something, sit there!” That’s when we discover that just because we aren’t doing something, doesn’t mean nothing is happening.

We live in a culture that places more value on doing than on being. We attach our worth to our accomplishments. We value how much we do, and how busy we are, more than what we do or how we do it. We miss the point that sometimes doing nothing is more powerful and productive than anything you can do in a situation. But being still is an art that requires practice. It’s easier said than done.

Many of us have learned to associate being still with being lazy. We consider it a waste of time. Or we may worry that taking time to relax is selfish and end up feeling guilty. Sometimes we’re afraid to be still because when we stop filling every moment with activities, we encounter feelings and thoughts we’d rather avoid. Sometimes we are afraid to do nothing because our mind tells us we’ll never be able to realize our dreams if we take time out to be still.

Actually when you are still you are better able to quiet your mind and listen more deeply to your heart and soul. It’s in these moments that you can hear the still, small voice within that speaks quietly and with confidence from a deeper place of intelligence than your thinking mind. When you act from the depth of your soul, and deeper guidance, your actions carry a force and energy that bring you into harmony with life. You will likely find yourself to be the right person, in the right place, at the right time.

Sometimes you have to slow down so that the world around you can catch up to your vision. There are certain moments in life and situations where there is nothing for you to do but be still. Acting out of impatience won’t necessarily make things manifest more quickly, but will instead cause you more stress and suffering. Rather than forcing things into existence, slow down, practice being still, silent, and waiting patiently. Connect with the flow of life that already is.

Silence has a sound of its own; listen for it. Stillness is just another form of action. Revel in it. The real power of living isn’t just in the actions you take, but also in your stillness. This is not an “either or” proposition. There is a time for doing something and a time for doing nothing.

Use the time you are doing nothing to reflect, restore, rejuvenate and to prepare yourself for action. If you don’t, when the time comes to do something, you may be depleted from all of your busyness and unable to be at your best when it counts the most.

Learn to trust life.

Slow down.

Listen to the silence.

Enjoy a meditation practice.

Try Restorative yoga.

Don’t just do something.

Sit there.

Be a human being, not just a human doing.

Namaste

Behind Closed Doors

It has not been my habit to talk about myself in my blog posts, but because of the ongoing conversation about domestic violence in our culture I am inspired to share my story of how I survived domestic abuse even before it was considered a crime. This is a story about why I stayed and how I left.

It is only recently that domestic violence has been considered a violation of the law. Although men have battered, abused and mistreated their wives or intimate partners for a long time, historically, wife or partner abuse has been viewed as a “normal” part of marriage or intimate relationships. Only toward the end of the twentieth century, in the 1970s, has domestic violence been defined as a crime, justifying intervention by the criminal justice system.

I married for the first time in 1967. My first husband turned out to be a verbally, emotionally, and physically abusive man, and I was the object of his abuse. His violent rages seemed to come out of nowhere. I had grown to fear him and was as careful as I knew how to be not to trigger him – walking on eggshells all of the time. In 1967 no-fault divorce was not an option and blame the victim was the name of the game, so I stayed and tried to make the best of a bad situation. To set the stage, we were a young inter-racial couple, married the same year the Supreme Court ruled miscegenation laws illegal. I was 21 he was 26.

We shared a car. Both of us worked. It was my habit to pick him up from work in the evening. One afternoon I made a decision to remain at work to complete an interview I was conducting. I had no way to reach him to let him know that I would be about fifteen minutes late (there were no cell phones then). When I arrived to pick him up, he was not there. My heart sank. Instead of waiting for me, he had taken the bus home in a driving rainstorm.

I knew he would be furious by the time I arrived home, and sure enough, there he was waiting for me inside the foyer of our apartment with a leather belt in his hand. When I walked through the door, he began screaming obscenities at me and beating me with the belt. As usual, I was totally unprepared for the assault. Afraid to defend myself, I felt victimized and helpless as usual.

Aside from the extremity of the attack, there was something different this time. I am not really certain how long the attack continued, but at some point during it, something inside of me literally clicked. Time slowed down, almost coming to a standstill, and I remember hearing a voice inside me say as clearly as if there had been someone in the room talking to me, “You know he’s crazy, but you must be crazy too for putting up with this.” In that moment of realizing my own insanity, I was transformed from the victim of an abusive husband to a woman who had choices, and I knew, even though I was not yet ready emotionally or financially, that I would leave the relationship.

I never said a word to him or lifted a finger to defend myself, but the most amazing thing happened. Immediately following, or maybe simultaneous to my thought and decision to leave, he stopped hitting me and screaming at me, dropped the belt, and walked away. We never spoke of the incident, and he never raised his voice to me or lifted a finger to harm me in any way after that. It was as if he somehow sensed that he would never be able to treat me that way again.

In a moment of profound awareness, I had taken personal responsibility for my own sense of well-being. In that instant I had changed on a deep, fundamental level. The shift in me completely changed the way I regarded myself and profoundly changed the way he interacted with me forever. I was no longer a victim. I had choices. Within months I had enrolled in graduate school, moved out of our apartment, and filed for divorce.

This incident happened over forty years ago. Until I shared the story sixteen years ago with my students at the University of Michigan in a course I was co-teaching with professor Robert Quinn called “Change the World”, I had never told anyone – not my parents, my brother, my current husband, or any of my closest friends. I had buried the memory of that chapter of my life, and along with it the feelings of humiliation and shame I felt.

The premise of the course we were teaching was that through individual personal transformation you can effect positive change. The question that prompted me to tell the story came from a student who asked, “Can you change an abusive relationship organizationally or personally through individual personal transformation?” I told my story.

Before I could feel regret or embarrassment about what I had shared in a very public forum, Professor Quinn said the most amazing thing: “That is an incredibly powerful story. Thank you for sharing it.”

Shazaam! An incredibly powerful story? Not the story of a pathetic victim of abuse who had put up with it for years? Not a shameful story that should have remained a lifelong secret? I had made myself vulnerable by sharing a story that I had always regarded as a sign of my own weakness. In the telling, I watched the story transform into a story of courage and strength. In telling the story, which was in itself an act of courage, my perspective shifted.

The fundamental change in me, by telling that story, was my willingness to lovingly and wholeheartedly embrace those parts of me that I had for years regarded as flawed. This shift in perspective forever changed how I see and relate to the world. Clearly my clients have benefited from this shift, as I am much better able to help them embrace their weaknesses and flaws, which paradoxically transforms them into strengths. My family and friends also benefit, as I am much less guarded and defensive, more willing to be open and vulnerable, and have a greater sense of self-esteem, all of which allows for greater intimacy and closeness.

So the upshot of what occurred for me by finally telling this story was that a pathway opened to transforming what I had internalized as a shameful experience, to be kept secret, into a story of courage and strength that I can now use to instruct others and to be a more compassionate, open, and loving person. It also released me from a long-held but deeply buried belief that I am not “good enough”, which has opened many internal doors that were formerly locked away, freeing me to be more authentic, genuine, and efficacious in all that I do.

I hope telling my story helps you find the courage to tell your story, whatever it may be, and to experience the loving embrace of all those with whom you share it. Secrecy enables the continuation of abuse. Don’t get it twisted. There is no shame in being abused. The shame belongs to the abuser; to all those who blame the victims of abuse; and to those individuals and institutions who would have you cover it up, hide it behind closed doors, and keep abuse a secret. Unless you are a powerless child, being victimized by an abuser does not define you as a victim. No matter what you may think, you always have choices. There is a way out. I know. Find your strength. Find your voice. Tell your story. Stand tall. Stand proud. Change the world.

Namaste

Don’t Demonize Difference

“Rather than demonize difference, yoga invites us to engage, embrace, and celebrate it. Yoga means union, the connection of body, heart, and mind, the connection of breath to movement, the connection of one human being to another. It is an invitation to intimacy with oneself and of connection to others.”–Gail Parker

In Hindu mythology, the Asuras, which simply means “Not Suras,” and the Suras were neighbors who had various shared and divergent interests. Neither group was particularly interested in interacting with or getting to know the other. Over time, for a complex set of reasons, the Asuras, who were at one time revered as gods, became known as demonic. What started out as different and unknown became confused with “other” in a negative sense. The Asuras came to be described as “darker beings,” evil spirits or demons, while the Suras were described as “beings of light,” as gods. The story of the Suras and the Asuras is ultimately the story of the demonization of “that which is not like me.”

Like the Suras and Asuras, we live in a complex world of difference that today, in a positive way, we would call diversity. We are members of a global community, different from each other but not separate. Instead of seeing our own views as the totality of the human experience, yoga offers the view of the human race as one family, each member with his or her own unique contributions, gifts and talents that need to be tapped, developed and shared.

We are not all the same. We don’t look alike, think alike, talk alike or act alike. We are not one. But unlike the Suras and Asuras who kept their distance from each other, yoga asks us to join together to get to know, honor, celebrate and share our perspectives and experiences with each other. It invites us to enter into relationship with that which is unfamiliar and “not like me” even if it makes us uncomfortable. Yoga doesn’t ask us to be the same because unity quickly devolves into conformity. Once that happens, difference becomes a problem. Even though there’s comfort in sameness, a desire for sameness is negative because it negates the other person’s perspective: “I wish you were like me, not like you.”

The negativity of sameness ruptures connection. There are two forms this negativity can take. First there’s devaluation of your self or someone else. Then there’s an elevation of your self over someone else. When we regard those who are different from us from a superior position, we annihilate them. When we regard our difference as a sign of inferiority, we engage in self-abuse. We feel like victims, and we annihilate ourselves.

Each one of us is a gift like a flower that emerges. Our yoga is to engage with our gifts and our experiences and then share them. All of our experiences, gifts and talents when drawn together and shared become the opportunity for evolution and growth. In sharing our gifts and our experiences, we nourish what is greater than ourselves, the community. In this process of sharing we discover and strengthen our connection to each other.

We don’t have to deny difference to keep from demonizing it. Our differences are part of what make us unique. But while we have different interests and backgrounds, we share a common humanity. Acknowledging differences does not have to divide us; in fact, acknowledging our differences can help us develop closer bonds through mutual understanding and respect.

Because of differences in national, cultural, gender, racial, ethnic and religious identity, and due to differences in sexual orientation, ability, disability, age, body size and learning styles, a person’s frame of reference and perspectives may be different from but no less valid than your own. Let us learn and then teach each other to embrace the totality of the human race as one’s own people, as members of the human family, no matter who they are or where they come from.

The pre-conditions of a functional community require that each of us value one another. We do this by:

Getting to know those who are different from us

Acknowledging each other’s differences

Affirming each other’s differences

Advocating for each other’s reality and potential

Sharing our gifts and talents

Respect for difference asks that we recognize that different does not mean better than or less than. It is not something to be hated, feared or eradicated. Different just means different. Engaging, embracing, and celebrating difference is our yoga.

Namaste

Gratitude: A Habit of the Heart

The most powerful agent of growth and transformation is something much more basic than any technique: a change of heart. ~ John Welwood

Gratitude is more than a feeling. It is a practice. In the Native American tradition elders begin each ceremony with a prayer of gratitude to father sky, and mother earth, to the four directions, and to the animal, plant, and mineral brothers and sisters who share our earth and support our life. A Buddhist monk begins each day with a chant of gratitude for the blessings in his life. Tibetan monks even offer prayers of thanksgiving for their suffering: “Grant that I might have enough suffering to awaken in me the deepest possible compassion and wisdom.”

As we mature, one of our tasks is to move beyond a purely emotional response to life and to cultivate positive emotions as habits of the heart. What this means is that we practice being grateful when we don’t feel thankful, loving when we don’t feel loving, and kind when we’d rather be mean and surly. This is how we turn feelings, which come and go, into conscious, intentional attitudes that guide our actions even when we don’t “feel” like it. Our attitudes then become habits of the heart.

What you discover through focusing on and practicing gratitude is this: The more grateful you are, the more joyful you become. You become more joyful for yourself, and for the good fortune of others. You find that you can be happy for the people you love, for bright blue skies, warm sunshine, the scent of flowers in bloom, the soft caress of cool breezes blowing–even for your own breath. Instead of feeling guilty about your own good fortune, you become able to embrace pleasure even when you are aware of the suffering of others. The more grateful you become, the happier you feel for no apparent reason. You simply love life and enjoy being alive.

There is much to be grateful for even if we can’t always see it. Author Dawna Markova says it best when she reminds us, “Gratitude is like a flashlight. If you go out into your yard at night and turn on your flashlight, you can suddenly see what’s there. It has always been there, but you couldn’t see it in the dark.”

When you shine the flashlight of gratitude on your life you can see all of the blessings both great and small that have always been there. Like the Native American elders, gratitude helps us acknowledge and appreciate everything that sustains our lives each day.

Gratitude is an expression of our confidence that life itself is on our side, that good things will come our way, and that even when unwanted experiences visit us, we regard them as merely bumps in the road that can help us learn to become wiser, more complete, and more loving. Gratitude helps us acknowledge that the life force that the poet Tupac Shakur identified as enlivening “the rose that grew from the crack in the concrete” is the same life force that enlivens each and every one of us.

An attitude of gratitude is not judgmental, envious or jealous. It does not compare itself to anyone or anything. It does not compete or disparage; rather, it is an attitude that openly receives what the Universe is offering, the sun, the rain, the air, and the earth as that which supports all of life. Gratitude invites us to become engaged in the excitement and wonder of life.

One caution: Telling yourself or others that you or they should feel grateful is not helpful. Guilt doesn’t work. Gratitude springs from either a conscious decision to notice what’s right with your life instead of what’s wrong or what’s missing, or from a spontaneous opening of the heart to life’s wonders. If you’re like most people there will be days when it’s impossible to feel grateful for anything no matter how hard you try. When that happens, be kind to yourself. The less guilt tripping you do to yourself and others, the more space you create for gratitude to sweetly and softly envelope your heart.

As you intentionally cultivate an attitude of gratitude, it changes the way you view the world. When you practice being grateful you feel connected to the abundant flow of life. The more you say “Thank You” the more you experience the feeling and the richness of spirit that gratefulness produces. At such times you don’t need to work at being grateful; you just are.

Dhanyavad Ananda