Tag Archives: change

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.

Zen Cairn with flower (c) Depositphotos.com, Anegada

When the Trappings Go, What Next?

I am surprised sometimes when I look around and the trappings of my life are gone.

Some of them.

I’m in my office and here’s what happened to get me to this point of blank walls and space on the shelves. I looked around my office one day not so long ago and I saw photos of me, my partner, my family, my business, then more of me. Big ones, small ones and some in a packet on the shelf. I saw a poster of Portlandia and two wall calendars. On my shelves were stacked books upon books, stuffed alongside with CDs. On my desktop were piles of folders and stray papers, spreadsheets and notes. Against all four walls were plastic boxes of files and maps and grocery bags full of stuff temporarily placed and waiting for someone to move them on. Hanging from the curtain rod was a boomerang. Somehow, when I looked around on that one day not so long ago, the room, which has been my office for more than three years, just did not feel right anymore.

The photos and posters seemed wrong, and so I took them down, fully intending to rearrange and put them back up. The books were overwhelming and the folders had become relics of projects long past. The boxes and bags weighed my room down, filling it with heaviness. And the boomerang? A souvenir. This was over a month ago and now, as I look around, I see just a few things on the walls – a poster of doors, which I like for some reason, an eco version of a calendar, a small printout of a photo of my partner, and an old license holder that says Les Bons Temps Rouler.

Nothing else has made it back up on the walls yet, and I cannot think of anything that could.

My room is in transition, shedding the old and waiting for the new to arrive.  I know this room is a reflection of my journey, as it is my room, the one room in the house that is not shared, and so, I wonder – what belongs on the walls now?

Awakening Consciousness, O, the Agony and Ecstasy

It’s exhilarating to be alive in a time of awakening consciousness; it can also be confusing, disorienting, and painful.

~~Adrienne Rich


A Shift in Perspective

Sunset off HawaiiCopernicus revealed the big news – the sun does not circle the earth. It does not rise in the East and set in the West. It took awhile, some 200 years, but finally science and the rest of the world agreed and said, “Of course”. We are the ones circling, not the sun. How could it ever have been thought otherwise? And yet, we say the sun “rises” though we know it does not, that in fact, the earth spins and reveals the sun and then keeps spinning and faces away from the sun. Our language still, after so many centuries, has no everyday words for the earth spinning and thus turning to the light in the morning. Sunrise is what we say. And Sunset.

At Mauna Kea – the top of the world and the site of some of the most advanced telescopes on earth, I listened to a nighttime Star talk by park rangers and up-and-coming scientists. They, led by Pablo, a personable ranger and an engaging speaker, describe the stars moving overhead. In a talk that ranges from nebulae to zodiac signs and their constellations, Pablo points out our galaxy that is so gorgeously spread across the night sky. And it is heartrendingly beautiful to see the stars in such clarity and such numbers, accustomed as I am to a city sky with its few stars twinkling here and there in the night. And I am fascinated by the constellations and the clusters of stars I see in the sky.

As night progresses, the scientists on site talk about the stars passing overhead. And I think once again: it’s the language. We all stand here, knowing that the stars will not circumnavigate our world, that our world spins its view of them each cycle. And yet we say the stars pass overhead, the sun rises and sets. Language is always in flux, we know, changing with our changing understanding of the world. And yet this particular aspect of our language is slow to catch up with our world view.

I sit on a balcony in Hawaii the next morning watching the sun “rise” and I work at not seeing the sun rise but focus instead on the earth turning. It takes some effort, as I am so accustomed to the notion of our sun “rising” and “setting”, but soon I begin to see it, the movement of the horizon as it dips into the sun’s light. We dip and then dip further, as we make our slow revolution, revealing just a bit of the sun’s rays and then more and then, voilá, the globe of the sun appears. And we are in the light.

The earth has turned and I have noticed, but I still have no new word for sunrise.
I’m aware that there are deep and philosophical conversations about how much language affects our thinking. Or how much it does not. The discussion on that chicken and the egg proceeds at its own pace. For me, though, the question of the sunrise brings me to ponder some of the other aspects of life. Like consciousness and its effect on our world. I have no word for the way consciousness affects the world around me—is that maybe why I find it so difficult to perceive this influence?