Love At First Sight

Last week I was sharing with some girlfriends that I have been revising my impression of spiritual connection. Over the last 90 days I have felt very connected emotionally and physically but I have a tendency to resist making a habit of any spiritual practice because my views of God are antiquated and defunct; I have had this fixed idea of God being a benevolent old man sitting in the heavens watching over us since I was seven years old. Although I appreciate the “Santa Claus” persona my developing mind created for the Almighty, I am looking to update my perspective.

My girlfriend, Susan, suggested that I write a “want ad for God.” I loved the idea and was excited about what kind of creativity I could lend to this assignment. All my enthusiasm could not overcome my old picture when I put pen to paper. The same image floated through my mind and down to the paper as I wrote. My want ad consisted of the same banal language of the original idea. I struggled with it for nearly a week until today when I was sitting in a café and came into contact with a total stranger. 

She was alone and had a small face, small body, thick dark hair and young eyes.

She looked at me and smiled and then looked away. I felt an instant connection. I thought, “How nice of her to notice me and smile.” For a moment we shared joy, two total strangers connected through kindness. Just a fraction of a second we were connected and I could feel an opening in my chest. I was instantly in love. How can that be? Do I really love her? How can I love someone completely unknown to me?  

This is not uncommon for me. I have had this experience quite often actually. 

I have a habit of people watching. I am fascinated with humans, how they act, what they do, what they say, how they laugh, how they connect. I love watching how people sit, eat and walk. I examine their face, the posture of their body, where they carry their weight, etc. I like to come up with a story about them.  I dream about what kind of life they have had. I imagine what kind of people become their friends. I wonder about their hobbies and interests. I want to know what makes them happy, sad, or scared. 

Every once-in-a-while I see someone sitting alone and for a moment I can see the kid in them. I can see what they looked like when they were seven. When people think they are not being watched they are at peace, free to be himself or herself and I observe innocence in that person. I instantly fall in love with them. 

Sitting in that café today, with my husband, I nudged him and asked, “Do you see her?” He nodded. “I love her,” I whispered.  Lindon just smiled, he knows this isn’t romantic love or attraction. I just… love her. 

After we left I asked him what goes through his mind when I profess love for strangers. His response shocked me. He said, “Cass, you always say stuff like that. No different then any other time you have said you loved someone.” After further questioning he reminded me of the last person I fell in love with in an airport. 

When we were traveling to India, Lindon and I were waiting for our flight drinking a cup of chai. A man sitting behind Lindon caught my eye. He was slim but his face was round with long hair down to his shoulders neatly tucked behind his ears. He was nicely dressed; jeans, collared shirt, vest, jacket. He was sitting alone eating a fruit parfait, with this legs crossed at his ankles tucked under the chair and wrapped around the leg of the chair. I loved him instantly. He was so sweet, content and well put together but so unassuming and understated. 

Lindon saw me staring at him and brought it to my attention because let’s face it- it’s rude to stare. Before I tore my stare from this man I “prayer boomed” him. I thought to myself, “Hi friend, you are so sweet. I love you. Have a safe flight. Have a beautiful life full of health, happiness and love. May you feel appreciated for being so uniquely you. I appreciate you.” 

And the best part is that these people stay with me. I can remember the dozens of people I have fallen in love with over the last year. When I reflect on these moments their faces come to my mind and I am filled with joy. This is definitely something I love about myself. 

Evidently this isn’t something that a lot of people experience fror strangers so I have been curious about it and the more I write about it the more I realize this is my experience of God. This is how I connect spiritually. My want ad isn’t for God because God is ever present in all things, at all times.  All I need to do is deliberately create the conditions under which I experience God.

WANTED

Love At First Sight: I am actively seeking occurrences where I deeply connect with someone else in their experience and share it with them. I am relaxed, peaceful and open. I am positive, supportive and intend to leave others with a prayer or appreciation for who they are and the joy they can bring in a short encounter. I look for the innocence and childlike wonder in those I meet and I am patient knowing that essence lives inside everyone and I exercise compassion until I find it. I open my heart to all and love unconditionally those around me. During this time I will leave the people and places better then I found them. 

All I want is the experience of falling in love over and over and over again. The freedom I feel in those moments profoundly moves me and I will live forever changed and grateful for noticing the greatness in others. 

This feeling is my experience of God.

Giving and Receiving

Saturday when I woke up I had a very normal morning.  I got out of bed, turned on the tea pot, did sun salutations waiting for the water to boil, poured myself a cup of tea and sat outside to write my morning pages. The morning pages went as usual, a little resistant at first as my mind wakes up and then I got into a good pace and thoughts flowed out of me and on to the paper effortlessly.

I wrote about some dreams I have about giving on a broader scale. I want to live a generous lifestyle. I want to have free time to volunteer. I want to work for Techo and build houses in Brazil. I want to teach at the school I visited in India. I want to go to a convalescent home twice a week and just be with someone.

 "It is better to give than to receive" hummed in the back ground of my mind but I had no idea how much that belief dictated my actions until later Saturday afternoon. 

After I finished up my morning pages the morning continued to be normal. Took a shower, had breakfast, got dressed ready to go to a workshop and waited for my husband to pick out an outfit to drive me to the office.

Yep. That is when things got strange...

I was waiting for my husband to pick out an outfit??? He has one style (that he sports very well) and it takes him all of three minutes to make a decision, get dressed and go.

Now, all of a sudden, he is Goldie Locks, "this shirt is too small!" "These shorts are too big!" "This doesn't match." I thought he had lost his mind. I am frantically trying to put outfits together that he will like because I need him to get out the door so I can be on time.

Then it dawns on me, this is weird! What am I doing? I look at him and I say, "You are stalling on purpose!" He looks me straight in the face and says, "Yes."

Instantly my energy sinks and a nervous pit begins to swell in my stomach. This is odd behavior and now I know it is on purpose and I don’t know why. I plead with him to tell me while he pretends to be distracted by getting dressed. All of a sudden there is a knock at the door.

We freeze and stare at each other.

With alarm I ask, "Who is it?" He smiles and says, "Go answer the door".  I plead one last time, “Please let me know who it is!!” He simply grabs my hand, bringing me into reality and out of whatever craziness was in my head and sooths, “Go find out.”

When I opened the door it was my sister-in-law and my nephew who live in Seattle.  Overjoyed to see them I screamed which frightens my two-year-old nephew and I jumped and wrapped my arms around them both. After whipping the tears from my eyes I asked, “What are you guys doing here?” To which my sister looks down at her son and says, “Hand Auntie Cassie the letter.” Aww… you are just a cryptic as your twin brother I see...

The letter read:

Suffice it to say my day was anything but normal after Taylor and Bobby "came over." They were followed by a ton of my friends who came from all over to participate in the adventure race. I can’t begin to describe all the surprises and fun we had so here are a few pictures from our great adventure:

My husband knew I wanted this for my 30^th birthday and we couldn’t make it happen on my actual birthday day so he collaborated with his older sister Dana to plan this entire day and make it a surprise to me. His twin sister Taylor traveled from Seattle to be apart of it and my friends arranged their plans to travel from all over to be a part of this great adventure! We had a blast!

I am beyond grateful. There are not enough words in the dictionary, flowers in the garden or cards at Hallmark to accurately express how appreciative I am for all the planning, secrecy, coordination, arranging and rearranging it took to make this day so fun and special...for me.

And yet, in a quiet moment I feel a twinge of anxiety on the heels of the whispers in my mind, “You don’t deserve this. What have you done for Dana to warrant this time and attention? You need to think of a way to repay her.”

Again, as you know, I don’t believe this self-depreciating story any more and yet I want to pay attention to it. It may not be true but it shows up in my life for a reason and I want to understand its message. So I share my observation with my husband in between adventures and as we talk I share that I believe we get what we give and right now I am having a hard time seeing what I have done to have this extravagant gift show up in my life. 

I turn to him, as he is driving to Casey's Cupcakes where there is a crowd of people waiting to sing happy birthday to me,  and with tears in my eyes I ask, "How do I know I deserve this?" 

Without hesitating he responds the most simple, beautiful truth, "Because it is in your life right now." 

At that moment I realize there isn’t a scorecard in life and love, there is no one tallying up points as to who did what for who and when.

My father in law, Lindon Crow, wrote this beautiful article about enriching the lives of others. The below is an excerpt that really speaks to me now:

“Herein lays the power of reciprocity.  When we receive we give, when we give we receive.  We must keep the flow open by always doing our part which means to receive graciously and with appreciation and gratitude and to be willing to give without reservation or fear of scarcity.  In fact, we often have to deal with a lot of resistance when it comes to giving.  But, if we don’t deal with that resistance than we will stop the natural flow and inevitably our own lives will cease to be enriched.”

My part is to give and receive graciously, wholeheartedly with as much love and gratitude as I can muster. 

So what if I can't see a direct relationship in what I have done to deserve this day. That is a flimsy way to look at it, for three reasons: First of all my self perception is unreliable at best, so I will reject that out of hand. Second, how do I know what I have given? Strangers with a kind smile and the time to show me the way when I am lost have changed my life and they don't know the impact they have had on me. Third, what I have "done or not done" is in the past and completely out of my hands. What is in my control is what I choose to do from here on out.

I want to make a contribution in this world in a big way and part of giving is receiving. I do not want to create a bottleneck in the flow of reciprocity and restrict my ability to give. I also want to celebrate and feel grateful for the amazing people in my life who do overwhelmingly incredible acts of love and kindness for me. If greatness is showing up in my life, I graciously and humbly accept and I will continue to look for ways to give and receive with an open heart and the continued desire to return the love I feel and so deeply appreciate. 

Inviting The Unexpected In For Tea

What if I didn't think cancer was a problem? 

What if I wasn't “fighting cancer” or “being a cancer survivor” or “battling cancer”?

Now I don't have cancer (as far as I know) but several people in my life do. Two people I deeply respect and care about recently got the news that they have cancer and their response to the news changed my life and my story about cancer forever. 

When one of them told me we were face to face. She knows full well my history with cancer and she wanted to be delicate because of my situation (Can you imagine the beauty and decency of someone just diagnosed with cancer being delicate with me? Sensitive to my sensitivity- that’s a class act. I was humbled). When she said the words, “they found a cancerous mass” it felt like I was being gut punched. In an instant every moment of sadness and loss I experienced came up at once and quickly gave way to anger, resentment and futility. 

As she continued with the prognosis; what she knows, how she feels, I listened with compassion but one questions kept circling through my mind, “Why is this in my life again?” 

It wasn’t that long ago that a strong, responsible, courageous woman (healthy by every estimation) was diagnosed with cancer. This woman was my best friend and she just so happened to also be my mom. 

Flashing back forward, when my friend turned to me, wrapping up her gentle delivery of news, I asked if there was anything I can do for her, if there was anything she wanted or needed. She simply requested, “Just be someone I can talk to and listen to me.” So simple, so lovely. It was the least I can do. 

Then I asked, “How would you like me to listen to you?” She knew what I meant and she replied, “I will let you know how I want you to listen to me but at this time all I want is your friendship and understanding.” 

I said, “Done. It’s yours, only always and forever.”  

Then I told her I had something to say and I relayed my experience to her, “I’m sad, I’m pissed, I feel helpless and yet I feel a level of excitement because I think I get to have the experience with you I wish I had had with my mom.” 

Later she asked me what I meant by that and I explained, “I held back my feelings with my mom. I didn’t tell her how scared I was and how much I wanted her around. I thought I could only tell her happy things because I thought at the time that everything else was negative and would only bring her down.” 

To which she replied and her response change my story forever. “Tell me everything. This isn’t a problem; this is just the next thing on my to-do list. I am completely confident I will handle this all very well and be a shining example to others that go through this experience. This is an opportunity to see what cancer is like with consciousness. This is your opportunity to be with cancer consciously. Put all our work into action. We may not have control over cancer but we have complete control over our attitude.” 

It had me think; what if cancer wasn’t a problem but an opportunity? I used to think cancer sucked. I was angry about cancer; I saw it as the enemy. Yet no matter how much I fought cancer, it’s still here, pervasive in the lives of people I love. 

Who would I be if I welcomed it into my life like I do every other unexpected event that pops up in my day? I don’t get angry when someone calls me out of the blue and I have other plans. I don’t lose my mind when I think I am going to be able to see a friend and she has to cancel at the last minute. I don’t feel futile when I call someone for an appointment and they don’t pick up. In fact as I am thinking about it nothing in life ever really goes exactly as I had planned. I handle each of these events as neutral; it’s just what happens. I don’t resist it or fight it. I am not a missed-appointment survivor or battling last minute cancellations; I am just some chick living in a world full of unexpected opportunities. 

Each unexpected event is another test of character, another opportunity to demonstrate the strength of spirit. 

As I pondered this idea, I reflected on my experience with my mom and smiled. My mom’s spirit and character were present with her until the very end. She had a cute lamb pillow that she carried with her everywhere she went. She called it “Lamby-kins” and she always said it in the cutest voice with a smile on her lips. She expressed her opinion, strongly, emphatically, and lovingly when ever possible.  

A memory of her that always tugs at my heartstrings was when she was very ill right before Christmas. She was sick from chemo treatments and at 7pm on Christmas Eve she looked at me and said, “We have to go Christmas shopping.” I told her what time it was; all the stores are closed by now. She opened her eyes wide, “Every store? “  To which I conceded, “Ok, probably not every store.” She grinned and said, “Good, lets go.” 

I drove my barely mobile mom around until we found the only open store where she bought hot coco kits to put in our stockings.  She wouldn’t let a moment go by where she wasn’t giving, no matter how sick she felt. 

I am sad I didn’t tell her how I felt about her then. I thought how I felt was a problem, I thought her having cancer was problem. She didn’t see it that way, but I didn’t see that until now. She handled it with dignity and grace; like she handled everything, it was just the next thing on her list. 

So here is my opportunity to be there for two people I love and welcome their experience. There is no problem, nothing to fight, and nothing to survive. If what we resist persists then I am choosing to experience this with loving, open acceptance.  Not I, or anyone I know did something to deserve this; it is not a punishment, this is just another unexpected to-do item giving us all the opportunity to respond with the best of us. I’m in. 

Here is the end of a story by Pema Chodron about a Buddhist Monk named Milarepa who went to live on his own in the mountain to fight his demons. 

“One evening Milarepa returned to his cave after gathering firewood, only to find it filled with his demons. They were cooking his food, reading his books, and sleeping in his bed. They had taken over the joint. He knew about non-duality of self and other, but he still didn’t quite know how to get these guys out of his cave. Even though he had the sense that they were just a projection of his own mind—all the unwanted parts of himself—he didn’t know how to get rid of them. So first he taught them the dharma. He sat on this seat that was higher than they were and said things to them about how we are all one. He talked about compassion and shunyata and how poison is medicine. Nothing happened. The demons were still there. Then he lost his patience and got angry and ran at them. They just laughed at him. Finally, he gave up and just sat down on the floor, saying, “I’m not going away and it looks like you’re not either, so let’s just live here together.” At that point, all of them left except one. Milarepa said, “Oh, this one is particularly vicious.” (We all know that one. Sometimes we have lots of them like that. Sometimes we feel that’s all we’ve got.) He didn’t know what to do, so he surrendered himself even further. He walked over and put himself right into the mouth of the demon and said, “Just eat me up if you want to.” Then that demon left too.” 

I’m done fighting you Cancer. It only makes you stronger and stick around longer. Ok, Cancer, come on in, sit down, have some tea and a danish, let us live here together because the best of me isn’t going anywhere.