For Wayne Dyer, the Journey Continues

We are not our bodies, our possessions or our careers. Who we are is divine love and that is infinite. ~~ Wayne Dyer

I’m holding Wayne Dyer close to me today, close in peace, harmony and joy.  Sadly, I am not alone, as millions are hugging him to their hearts today, the first day in 75 years that the world has been without its Wayne.  He has been a brilliant presence, persisting and growing through the years, going from motivational speaker in the 1980s to one of the people named on the top ten list of spiritual leaders in the world. (For a good chuckle, hear Wayne Dyer tell of his placement in 2011 as number 3 spiritual leader behind Eckhart Tolle and the Dalai Lama.  He tells a good story and his stories always have a point. —Or rather, I should say, “told” and “had”.)

He had the gift of compacting big thoughts into small sentences– aphorisms and memes that now appear across the Internet. But make no mistake, his wisdom and his gift to us, the world, is not in the aphorisms; it was in his generosity and persistent intention to take as many of us along with him on his journey as would go.

In April, he visited my hometown and my thoughts and appreciation are the same today as they were in my notes then, though today I would expand that one day as an expression of the full journey:

… I metaphorically walk with Wayne through the day, I catch a glimpse of what he wants us to achieve − the complete acceptance, expanse and joy of being. Capture that, I think, and you have captured the meaning of life. Or, no. You have captured life itself.

He leaves us with so much wisdom so well expressed. Here are just a few quotes from Wayne Dyer:

When you dance, your purpose is not to get to a certain place on the floor. It’s to enjoy each step along the way.

Begin to see yourself as a soul with a body rather than a body with a soul.

I see death as simply removing a garment or moving from one room to another. It’s merely a transition.

When Wayne Dyer’s family spread his ashes off the coast of Maui, Wayne’s face appeared in the waters. Coincidence? Wayne Dyer taught us there are no coincidences.

My Friend

My friend tells me he is dying.

He jokes, “The doctor gives me four weeks if I don’t take the chemo treatment. (pause for effect) Four-and-a-half if I do.”

I am quiet. Even though I have seen his six-year struggle with cancer, I am caught off guard.

“I’m joking,” he says.

I realize how much I love this guy who has been an absent presence in my life for four decades. He came into it, the childhood friend of my late husband, as part of the package. He appeared on our doorstep on his vacations. Then he was gone, off to create special effects for Hollywood. Then back, on hiatus and living out of his van in my driveway. A familiar, quirky pal to me right from the beginning. Well, we like to call it quirky. Others sometimes see him as a bit eccentric, sarcastic, prickly, passionate and opinionated. An artist. He is all of that and we loved him quietly through the years, watching him meet up with women, briefly, then move on, ending up back in our driveway again.

He built a complicated speaker system with my husband, the two of them working well into the wee hours, creating the perfect parade speakers for our Cajun/Zydeco band. He came to performances and sat with our group. Sometimes. He disappeared for months to work on a movie, then back again in between and blending in with our twosome of a family life. He regaled friends and families (and still does) with stories, like the one about puppeteering the backend of Mighty Joe Young, a movie gorilla. — ”Someone has to be the butt, and it’s not as easy as you’d think!”

Three friendsNow, so many years later, I revisit those days, stepping back into that time. I smile. Those were good times, when I would go to bed listening to him and my husband laughing and bantering over the intricacies of PC vs MAC, of how to Photoshop a jpeg, the drone of the discussion humming well into the night.

Did I enjoy those moments enough? Did they?

I wonder.

To live in the moment, to fully embrace the joy in every speck of time – did I? Do I now? Do I reach that underlying joy that is the universe at play? Did he? Did they? – taste, feel, see, hear and touch it?

Did I? Did they?

When my husband died, I thought I would die, too. After almost five days when food turned to dust in my mouth and I found it impossible to eat, our friend appeared to take me out for a smoothie, to help me taste the world again. It tasted like a banana milk shake on a warm summer day with the smell of an ocean breeze and a vision of white clouds against a blue sky, seagulls squawking in the air.

I’m just joking,” he says. “It’s not four-and-a-half weeks.”

But the doctor advised him to get his final documents in order, to sign the DNR. And my friend did.

And, still, I thought I would have another chance to talk with him.

Know Ye Science

Today seriously aspiring seekers and philosphers must first become conversant in science, for the revelations of science are too profound to ignore.

~~ Frank A. Wilczek, PhD and Deepak Chopra


Awakening to Joy

“You’re floating in empty space in a universe that goes on forever. If you have to be here, at least be happy and enjoy the experience.”

 ~~ Michael A. Singer, The Untethered Soul

Sometimes a Bad Day is a Good Thing

Reconnecting with Oneness, and Francis Lucille

I was having a bad day.

Houseguests made our morning coffee, creating a weak, half-decaf concoction without telling me, a woman who enjoys a strong cuppa in the a.m. We’d gotten up and dressed by 7:30 to go to breakfast, at their suggestion; then, they said, “Oh, we changed our minds. We’re leaving at 8:30.” An hour’s sleep lost. A friend sent me a photo of me, which she loved, in which I looked ancient, wrinkly and sweaty. The ego took a blow. It was hot and we have no air-conditioning. Stifling. My computer tablet refused to start; my mini-blinds would not lower to shield out the hot sun; in my irritated state, my meditation crawled from shallow to shallower, my mind jumping from one irritation to the next.  The neighbor started up a drilling/pounding house project.

I kept it in perspective – none of this was earth-shattering. “Get over it,” I said to me. But I was off center. I slipped further and further, as the irritations built. I sneezed, itchy eyes of allergies settling in; I gave up on yoga stretches and slipped further. I was at the door of a funk. In fact, I opened the door and was ready to take a step.

In a moment of synchronicity, I flipped on my Google + and  a new video popped up on my one working computer. It was from Francis Lucille’s satsang, and he was answering an online question from someone named Luke, who did not like who he was.  “That is my question,” I said. “I feel this way today, too.  I’m not liking who I am in this world.”

In Francis’ answer to Luke, he said that the one you believe yourself to be is not who you really are. That’s good, I thought, because I don’t want to be this irritable individual with hurt feelings. I sat down to listen and watch. Francis explained:

The one you really are is extraordinary awareness which is hearing these words right now. Nothing else. Stop linking this awareness to this body-mind called Luke [or Judy!]. Be open to the possibility that this awareness is independent from the body-mind that you call Luke. And that the awareness is the real Luke.…

Francis continued to explain that awareness is not a hostage to the body-mind. Or dependent on it.  And further, its freedom, power, peace and happiness derives from this independence.

“That which you want to change is not the real you,” he said.

I paused to listen again: “That which you want to change is not the real you.” But where is this awareness, this consciousness, then, when I want it and when I have slipped into an ego-driven funk? Where was it when I wanted to blame other people for weak coffee, switches in plans, crappy photos and a faulty mini-blind?

Hiding, I decided. Waiting for me to remember. Waiting for me to feel its presence. Waiting for me to get over this everyday body-mind junk focus. Yes, waiting patiently for me to remember. I finally did, thanks to a generous answer to Luke’s question from Francis Lucille.

I remembered and I moved on – not perfectly, but with a leap of intention. My heart eased and my soul let go. And that should be the end of the story. But, I admit to you that, even with all that resolve, I still do live within the powerful magnet of this body-mind.

I deleted the unflattering photo from my email, flipped on a fan, made a fresh batch of hefty coffee and covered my window with a curtain.

Oh, and I slathered on a facial mud masque, just for good measure.

The journey continues.