SILENCE AND THE SOUL

This morning I was feeling considerable angst over a business situation. I wanted to do something about it. I wanted to fix it, as if I could. I was caught up in my ego and the illusions of the world.

Finally, I knew, if I was to have any peace today, I must sit quietly, pray and listen. I was directed to the book shelf where my copy of Yogananda's In the Sanctuary of the Soul resides. Upon locating the book, I settled into my comfort chair.

I opened the book to its concluding pages, 115-124. Yogananda speaks of the "inner temple of silence" and said, "When tigers of worries, sickness and death are chasing you, your only sanctuary is the inner temple of silence." Within that temple, "receive God with your awakened intuition ... God is in the heart of soul of every being. And when you open within yourself the secret temple in your heart, then with the all-knowing intuition of the soul you shall read the book of life. Then, and only then, will you contact the living God. And you will feel Him as the very essence of your being."

On closing the book, I went into my temple. As I sat in blissful silence, I knew to the depth of my being worldly objects and thoughts were of no value. I can live without them, but I do not want to live without God's peace.

FIRST ART SHOW

Last night saw the first exhibition of any of my work, which consisted of two paintings. What was special for me was another exhibiting artist, Michael, raved about one of my pieces, "Roll With It," and complimented me by saying, "I wish I had painted it."

My art teacher, Patti, also said, "I've never seen anyone do the things with paint that you do."

Truly, the only thing I can claim as my own is hard work and perseverance. My emotional and spiritual healing opened the channels within me through which the Divine energy flows onto canvas. The visions and inner voice issues from the collective conscious of all that is and ever shall be. I feel blessed to be their recipient.

May each of you receive the Universe's blessings. L.B.

LIES

I look for the good in all beings. Lying is foreign to me, and those who use lying as a means to navigate in the world is almost incomprehensible to me.

Yesterday, I received information verifying my suspicion that one of my patients had lied to me on numerous occasions. I am deeply saddened and disappointed by his behaviors. His ability to look me in the eye and lie is uncanny. In his perfidy, his performances were of Academy Award caliber.

Because of his lies, over the past eight months, he has significantly increased my stress level and wasted a great deal of my uncompensated time. At this stage in my life, my energy to help others in therapy is very limited. Perhaps another could have benefited from my time. It remains to be seen if he, on some level, has benefited by our work together.

I see a great deal of potential in this individual. At this point, I am unsure if he truly wants help and is willing to work to change his behaviors. Only God knows the answer. Time reveals all. I may not be around to watch his story's conclusion, but I am certain God brought us together for a purpose. It is not necessary that I know the reason.

IMPRISONED BY FEAR

Over the years, I have seen many people imprisoned by their fear. No matter how miserable they are in a job, relationship or situation they refuse to change. They are terrified of the "unknown."

I have seen individuals paralyzed in marriages. The only freedom they will know is death, unless their spouse bails out first. In the latter case, as painful as that is for them, their spouse is doing them a favor. They are being forcibly evicted from their self-imposed prison.

The only true solution I know to fear is prayer, prayer and more prayer. The Divine Source will reveal the path. If they resist, their pain usually intensifies. Some will explore beyond their bars. Others, will huddle in the corner of the living death of their cell.

Enjoy the adventure of life. The wide-open expanse of all that is invites you to the dance. Check your fear at the door.

TRIP "HOME"

I have been estranged from my parents for over twenty-five years. Following my inpatient trauma treatment and memory retrieval, I was emotionally devastated and terrified of allowing them near me. I wrote them a note and stated, "A child remembers everything. Do not contact me again."

Over the years, I prayed for my parents. My fear of them and my anger toward them had largely abated. My pain had diminished, and I felt compassion and love for these two souls.

In 2010, I became aware of my need to see my parents. Before they crossed to the other side, I wanted to tell them that I loved them.

I sent them a card requesting to visit them. My mother responded. Over time and several correspondences, she invited me to visit. We planned to share lunch. I was to stay in nearby lodging.

In October of 2010, I made the journey to my childhood home. The distance required for me to travel far exceeded the mileage on the trip meter.

Having moved from the farm, my mother arranged for me to meet her at their new home in town. My father refused to see me. He had vacated the premises for my arrival.

At 86, my mother looked well. Her hair color and style were unchanged. Her face, due to cosmetic surgery, was as I remembered it. I was glad she had the means to meet her needs.

We had a very stilted conversation, as we sat at my parent's kitchen table. I inquired about her health and the various people in the community. With little visible emotion, she spoke of her health and reported the local news. She told me of her church activities and the monetary contributions she and my father had made to the church.

Throughout our time together, my mother avoided eye contact and made no inquiry into my life.

At an appointed time, she announced we were going to the farm where I was reared. My nephew, his wife and their two daughters now lived there and continued the farming operation started by my parents.

With my mother in the passenger seat, I drove to the farm. On arriving, I noticed little had changed. The house, barns, granaries were as I remembered.

As I gazed upon the various structures, I attempted to appear normal. However, I was experiencing a movie reel of flashbacks of the abuse that I had sustained in those buildings. The same was true when I entered the house. In vivid color, I was reliving my trauma.

I had not seen my nephew since he was a small child. I was struck by his resemblance to his father, my brother. My nephew and his daughters, ages two and seven, were filled with energy and delightful. I was unable to meet his wife, who was working out of town.

My nephew began to inquire about my life, profession and world views. To our surprise, there were many parallels in our journeys.

For lunch, we took my mother into town. Afterward, my mother was tired. I drove her home and returned to the farm. My nephew had invited me to spend the afternoon with him and his daughters.

At the day's end, I was exhausted, feeling emotionally fragile but glad I came. During the evening, on my return drive, I listened to the radio broadcast of the day's events. To my surprise, it was Halloween. Unknown to my conscious mind, my subconscious mind and Higher Source had coordinated the scheduling. During the subsequent four months, I was depressed and in emotional pain. The trip reopened my wounds. I had more work to do.

UNPLUG

I needed a respite from the world, so I unplugged it for a few days. I sought to disconnect from the chatter of patients and their interminable needs, but a few insisted upon intruding into my space.

Eighteen months ago, I was emotionally depleted, and my health was hovering on the brink of dissolution. I sent sixty patients letters stating, "For physical and personal reasons I must markedly decrease my practice and will no longer be able to see you." I saw this group of patients on an annual basis, and their medications had not changed for a number of years. In the envelope, I included 6-to-12 months of their medication refills, which gave them ample time to locate another psychiatrist.

Of this group of sixty, only one person contacted me with concern for my well-being. Most of them, when their refills expired, I received requests for renewal. Apparently, they mistook me for a free, psychiatric 7-11.

Over the years, I have seen patients who were very needy and self-absorbed. They consumed my energy. At times, I felt like they had an I.V. in my arm and were draining me dry. If I laid dying on the floor, I felt these people would step over me and keep on talking.

A few years ago, one such individual reported to me, with no sign of emotion, that her massage therapist, of many years, had died. His death appeared to be an inconvenience to this person. However, I was assured they had already found a replacement therapist, who was even an improvement over the recently departed.

Needless to say, to preserve my sanity and health, my work requires me to set firm boundaries and, on occasion, to pull the plug on it.

For several days, I have painted, read and rested. I have thoroughly enjoyed my time for me and plan to make it a regular habit. I encourage you to do the same.

ICU VIGIL

During Nick's five days in the ICU, I was often found in his room or standing outside it or in the waiting area. From this vantage point, I watched the comings and goings of many.

For every occupant in an ICU bed, a constellation of family and friends hold vigil. Bound together in similar experiences, we often confided in and comforted one another.

There were the three sisters, along with their husbands and children, grieving the last few days of their mother's life, after her long struggle with breast cancer.

Fifteen years earlier, Molly's husband, Frank, had three-vessel, heart-bypass surgery. Now, in his late sixties, all of his vessels were occluded, and his time was near. As his life ebbed, Frank was lovingly tended by his wife and sons. Molly had resigned herself to the inevitable but received comfort in knowing that Frank was "returning home."

Standing less than five feet tall, in a yellow, sweat suit, Maxine hovered outside her husband, George's, room. Maxine, 85 and the mother of five, said she and her husband had been married for 67 years. George was a retired Southern Baptist minister. According to Maxine, he had been the epitome of a loving husband and father. However, during George's stay in the ICU, Maxine related he had been "out of his mind." With much chagrin, Maxine tearfully said that throughout their years together, George had never spoken to her or used such language,as was his current manner. Maxine attributed it to the medicine being used to treat George's pneumonia.

Maxine looked lost. I sensed George was her anchor. I was reminded, in such marriages as Maxine and George's the death of one spouse is often quickly followed by the death of the other.

Maxine, Molly, the three sisters and I continued to wait, watch and pray.

LOVE AFFAIR

I am having a love affair with acrylic paint. On a canvas, there is no amount that is too much. I might use three or more large tubes on a 16" x 20" canvas. I love the paints swirling fluidity, and the exquisite patterns formed as the colors merge.

For now, I am not interested in creating a particular image. I am exploring my inner world of rotating, spiraling, oscillating color. I enter and dance in this realm of energy and its vibrations.

This world at our centers is the seat of our souls. This domain is a part of Divine Consciousness and the source of our inner knowing and intuition. This realm is as much a part of God as a drop of the ocean is the ocean.

After a stressful day, my tension dissipates when I pick up a brush or palette knife and allow my spirit free rein. Then, I am allowed admittance into the Divine symphony of color and form.

INNER VISION

Before I begin a new canvas, I feel the need to experience a particular color or combination of colors. I frequently receive visions of one or two strokes of the color on canvas.

In the midst of the process, with painting flying everywhere, I may hear an inner voice. In an early piece, of course everything is early now, I was using a combination of orange and yellow and was told, "Make it dance." I began to feel the rhythm of the colors, and they danced.

On another canvas, I was again working with yellow and orange. It was 2:00-to-3:00 a.m. I kept making a circle that resembled a fiery orb. I repeatedly questioned, "What is this?"

A few minutes later, I began to laugh. Internally, I heard Johnny Cash singing, "Burn, burn, burn and the flames grow higher ... that ring of fire." I was painting the ring.

Other times, I am in the throes of various color combinations and am not sure where I am going. Then, the title comes to me. I am never left wandering alone.

ART

I have studied art, artists and art history for almost fifty years. Art is my passion. When I was pregnant with my first child, Billy, I worked in the town library. Ms. French, the librarian, allowed me to paint posters for book displays. My paint drippings resembled those of Jackson Pollock. Bless her heart. Ms. French was blind as a bat. She and I loved my posters. The remainder of the rural townspeople had other opinions, but at least they kept it to themselves.

To date, I have written two books framed in art, Renaissance Woman and Ivey Hayes, the Art of Living. I had presumed my artistic abilities were limited to enjoying and studying art but did not include its creation.

In April of this year, I joined other women in an art class. I enjoyed talking to the women, particularly Patti, the teacher. I was afraid to pick up a brush and was preparing to leave. Then, I saw the other women go to work on their projects. Like an orphaned child, I looked on.

They were painting a bit of everything. Patti said there were no rules in her studio. "Paint whatever comes to your mind," she said. "And you can never use too much paint."

Well that suited me to a T. I love art with lots of color and texture. Van Gogh was my kind of guy.

As I perused the jumbled array of materials, I spied a long, narrow piece of canvas, with stringy edges. I promptly began to separate the loose threads.

For weeks, the color, purple, had come to my inner vision. I was hungry for it. I rummaged through the paints and found a match. I squirted purple on a palette, also known as a meat packaging tray. Finally, I picked up a brush. Floodgates opened within me. I was carried into another dimension of myself, the artist.

Fifty paintings later, I am going strong. As I said earlier, it is never to late to have a happy childhood.

HEALING COLORS

I have spent much of my life in rooms with white or beige walls. In the spring of 2010, I was depressed and decided I needed a little color to cheer me up. I promptly began to purchase green paint samples, for one wall of my living room. I splashed six shades on it before I found "the" peridot green I desired. The green, which resonates with the heart chakra, energized me. So, I covered the opposing wall with the same hue. My living room looks like a long, peridot sandwich.

In the meantime, my project had mushroomed. I decided to paint my dining room a solar-plexus yellow and a bedroom wall, behind my bedstead, an indigo blue, which vibrates with the energy level of the third eye.

I repeated my color selection process. Those little sample cards don't do it for me. I require a big dollop of paint on the wall to see and feel its frequency. During this process, my walls looked like a two-year-old had gone wild with a paint brush, and they probably did. (You are never too old to have a happy childhood.)

It worked. The colors morphed my spirit to a higher plane.

SUICIDE

Following a suicide, I have repeatedly heard mourners espouse the departed is free of pain and in a peaceful place.

I'm not so sure about that. I have also heard and read that when a soul exits its body, self-induced or otherwise, it vibrates at the same energetic frequency as it did during its embodiment. For me, this belief resonates true.

I also believe that each soul incarnates on the planet to grow spiritually and/or to help others grow spiritually.

For many years of my life, I suffered from severe depression and was daily suicidal. The only thought that kept me alive was my belief in reincarnation. I reasoned that I wanted to learn whatever lessons I came for, because I sure didn't want to repeat this sucker again.

After growing, and continuing to grow, through my pain, I smile over the latter paragraph. For I now have a much broader awareness of the purpose and meaning of this incarnation.

For now, my message is:

"No matter what your pain, pray and don't hurt yourself."

"And don't quit before your miracle."

RESTRAINT OF TONGUE AND PEN

Over the years, I have learned everything I think does not require my expression. If I do not practice restraint of tongue and pen, I will have to apologize for my ill-tempered words. I certainly had a close call last week.

Earlier in the year, I had seen a depressed, young man and received many phone calls from his distraught mother. Her son kept two therapy appointments. As we approached his issues, he became a phantom patient. He missed his three subsequent visits and followed none of my recommendations. Occasionally, he would call for an appointment. When I returned his call, he did not answer and his message machine was full.

I had not seen him for six months. Last week, he called, left a message and urgently requested/demanded that I write a letter on his behalf and fax it to his attorney. First, I always see the patient immediately prior to preparing a letter for the court. Second, I'm like a Missouri mule. A patient can politely ask me for a favor, and I will usually accommodate them. However, I refuse to respond to a demand.

Weary of being treated like a free Psychiatric 7-11, I promptly returned the call. To my surprise, I could leave a message. I reminded him that he had missed several appointments, and I was not a get-out-of-jail-free card. Yes, I was a little over the top, but he was the end of a long line of entitled young men, who have paraded through my office and mistook me for their mother.

A few hours later, after a long day of seeing patients, I received a voice message from the young man's mother. She was irate and unkind. As it often happens, the young "adults," problems stem from overly indulgent caregivers.

I was exhausted, infuriated and hurt. I wanted to call her back and tell her what I thought, but I refrained. I knew I needed to sleep on the situation.

The following morning, I composed a rational, professional letter for the mother and itemized the series of events that led up to previous day. I was grateful that I used restraint of tongue and pen, because I did not want to apologize to her or her recalcitrant offspring.

EYES WIDE OPEN

We often live with our eyes downcast or our vision obstructed by blinders. It takes courage to live with our eyes wide open.

What does it mean to live with eyes wide open?

It means to have a full view of the banquet life places before us. To feast on the banquet, we must release our narrow ways of thinking and our judgemental and self-negating and world-negating attitudes.

It is our choice to walk within the narrow view made visible with our blinders. It is a familiar path, worn smooth by our plodding. We know every twist and curve along its course. Often times, the journey is boring,depressing and devoid of energy, but it is "safe." Its choice is a living death.

However, if we choose to rip off the blinders of our narrow thoughts, we will see the luscious panorama of life's abundance. This path requires trust in the Divine. In spite of our fears, this path also requires action. But, living life with eyes wide open brings fresh air, sunshine, adventure, joy and fulfillment and, when its your time to leave the planet, you will know you truly lived.

FORGIVENESS

After reading my autobiography, Red Earth Woman, a friend, Nell, asked me if I had forgiven my parents.

I told Nell, because of my spiritual healing over the past 25 years, I had forgiven them.

However, I wondered if Nell had asked me the question because she had been emotionally and/or physically traumatized. I went on to caution her, in the early phases of recovery, one must feel to the depth of their being, their pain and anger. Forgiveness comes much later.

I believe we incarnate on the planet to grow spiritually and to help others grow spiritually. My parents were my greatest teachers. They forced me to go to the center of my being, where my True Self resides. In my pain, I cried out to my only source of strength, the God of my understanding. To be free of my pain, I had to surrender all of me to my Higher Power and become willing to do whatever was necessary to change my thoughts and their resultant emotions and actions.

My parents are in their eighties and preparing to cross to the other side. I send them forgiveness, love and compassion. They each carry heavy burdens, and I can only imagine the torture of their souls. I pray they both find peace.

PRAYERS - Abbreviated

In addition to the preceding prayers, I have three abbreviated prayers I frequently use throughout the day.

"I am yours, Dear God. I am yours."

"Thy will not mine be done."

"Show me the way, Dear God. Show me the way."

I have practiced these prayers for many years. Now, on awakening, I internally hear their words. Throughout the day, I realize I am praying them. They have become my mantra. As my friend, Jo Ann, says, "The prayers are now praying me."

PRAYER - Lord's Prayer - Another Translation

Apparently, there are a variety of translations, from the original Aramaic, of the Lord's Prayer. My favorite is Mark Hathaway's translation, which is based on the work of Saadi Neil Douglas-Klotz.

"O Cosmic Birther of all radiance and vibration!
Soften the ground of my being and carve out a space within me where Your Presence can abide.
Fill me with Your Creativity so that I may be empowered to bear the fruit of Your Mission.
Let each of my actions bear fruit in accordance with Your Desire.
Endow me with the wisdom to produce and share what each being needs to grow and flourish.
Untie the tangled threads of destiny that bind me, as I release others from the entanglement of past mistakes.
Do not let me be seduced by that which would divert me from my true purpose, but illuminate the opportunities of the present moment.
For You are the ground and the fruitful vision, the birth-power and fulfillment, as all is gathered and made whole once again."


This beautiful prayer comforts me and resonates with my True Self.

Many Blessings, LB

PRAYER - The Serenity Prayer

The Serenity Prayer is another prayer used frequently in 12-step programs:

"God grant us the serenity to accept the things we cannot change,
Courage to change the things we can,
And wisdom to know the difference."

I use a personalized version of the prayer, changing us to me and we to I. Over many years, the use of this prayer has taught me that I am powerless over people, places, things and situations. Acceptance is difficult but, after many failures to change anything outside of myself, I had to admit complete defeat, which is the beginning of acceptance.

The only person I can change is me, and I require God's help to do that. Many of our ways of thinking, that result in our feelings and behaviors, are very familiar but uncomfortable. Great courage is required to ask a Power greater than we are for help and take a leap of faith into the unknown. The Third Step and Seventh Step Prayers guide us in this process.

It is a wise person who stops fighting anything or anyone, including themselves. Knowledge or information can be gleaned from a book or computer and regurgitated. After an arduous journey, wisdom is found within, in the seat of the soul.

PRAYER - Seventh Step Prayer

The following is the Seventh Step Prayer, which is also from the literature of the 12-step programs.

"My Creator, I am now willing that you should have all of me, good and bad.
I pray that you now remove from me every single defect of character which stands in the way of my usefulness to you and my fellows.
Grant me strength, as I go out from here, to do your bidding. Amen."

In the first sentence, we are willing for our Creator to take all of us, not just our "bad" traits. Actually, what we think is a good trait, used in excess can become a negative trait. Excellent organizational skills are an attribute when held in balance, but the skill becomes destructive when it is used to organize and regulate the lives of others. If we are to grow spiritually, we can't pick and choose what part we give to our Higher Power. We have to turn over the whole package.

The second sentence allows God to select which of our characters traits need to be removed. However, we usually have an inkling of what our character defects might be by the emotional and/or physical pain they cause us.

Furthermore, the reason for the removal of our character defects is not so we can tip toe through the tulips and live happily ever after. The purpose is to fit ourselves for maximum service to God and man.

And, so it is.

PRAYER - Third Step Prayer

For many years, I have used four prayers. Three of them are borrowed from 12-step programs, the Third Step, the Seventh Step and the Serenity Prayers, and the last prayer is an alternate translation of the Lord's Prayer.

In my belief system, God, or the Universe, does not need a grocery list or a Christmas list of my wants. For me, the following prayers align my will rightly with God's.

Third Step Prayer:

"God, I offer myself to Thee - to build with me and to do with me as Thou wilt.
Relieve me of the bondage of self, that I may better do Thy will.
Take away my difficulties, that victory over them may bear witness to those I would help of Thy Power, Thy Love, and Thy Way of Life. May I do Thy will always! Amen."

There are several elements that are key for me within this prayer. In the second sentence, the word, bondage, is power packed. My bondage is my wants, my fears, my anger, my selfishness and my ego, to name just a few. I can only be released from these defects of my character through Divine Power.

Sentence three, "Take away my difficulties, that victory ...," the operative word is "victory," not defeat. But the purpose of our victory over our difficulties is not for our self-aggrandizement, but to "bear witness to those I would help" of God's Power, Love and Way of Life.

Our victories are signs of Divine Power and Will in our lives. We carry our Higher Source's light to others in our thoughts, words and behaviors. We are the message.
God is the messenger.