A Christmas Grace

 Christmas evokes so many memories. Mostly good memories. For me, that is.

But there is an awareness these days that the emotion-laden holiday season brings much sadder memories for those who've suffered loss and heartache attached to the season. And for them, the saddest memories may cling to a date that lives with them, year-to-year. A grim reminder of the cruelest of life's realities. Those "realities" could be the death of a loved one, the loss of health, the loss of property due to any of a variety of catastrophes, an incidence of violence or assault or any number of other things. When does one begin to rebuild faith in something? Anything?

The pleasant childhood memories of Christmas--for me--are largely untouched although I've had a few holidays that could be considered less than joyful throughout my adult years. The longer one lives, it seems, the chances to experience such holiday seasons increases by means of simple arithmetic. But there are those Christmas memories that speak to both the pleasant and the painful. I'd like to tell you about one such Christmas a few years ago. 

(Eva making herself comfortable in the parlor)

December, 2013

I got my girl Eva into the Jeep after my thoughtful sister Amy (with whom I was then living) helped me pack a real Christmas tree that she purchased into the back. The ride to Pennsylvania from Virginia wasn't short nor was it without multiple stops. But the anticipation of spending Christmas with my mother warmed the drive and as I listened to Christmas favorites along the way, I thought of how exciting it would be for her to have a real tree. She and my father hadn't put up a real tree in years. 

When I pulled into the driveway of the home I shared with my family in youth, a light snow was falling. The old sentinal of a house had changed very little in the intervening time period. A few paint touch-ups. The removal of some decorative "fencing" on the roof of the garage--gone due to wood rot. A new porch and sidewalk added at some point. A new, indescribable feeling of smallness--maybe not the right word--hit me. It just always seemed so big to me as a child. The one undeniable feeling was warmth and the idea that one could always come home.  This was no house. This was my home. 

(after the tree was "up")

(view from what was once the bedroom of my sisters)

Mom would turn 90 the following year. She was still grieving my father but she was not depressed. She had dealt with depression on and off throughout my childhood having suffered numerous losses when I was barely through with toilet training. Those losses didn't hit on holidays. It didn't make them any less significant. She lost her father the day after her birthday--April 9--1967. She lost her twin sister on September 21, 1968 and her mother the following February, in 1969--on the 5th--all due to cancer. I was born in 1964 (my mother was then 42) so I remember very little about these relatives. But I do remember my mother displaying deep sadness from time to time. It strikes as sadness when one is a child but as I look back through the lens of adulthood--keeping in mind my own struggles with depression--I clearly see what I would now call clinical depression. It came and went through the years but, despite that, she created a home filled with love for all of us. If I hadn't sought peace--and found it--in recent years, I would feel a great sense of shame for how I dismissed that love as I grew into adulthood. Now I see a larger picture. And I sense that picture will continue to expand outside the narrow frame I had once imposed on it.

She was waiting on me with her signature baked goods and a hot lunch, as I had been calling her at each stop along the way giving her updates on our arrival time. Eva was terribly excited to see that light dusting of snow--and I ate and visited with mom a bit before hauling the tree and my luggage into the house, which was already warm with the smells and sounds of the holiday. We both shared a love for the Christmas classics, with a particular fondness for Bing Crosby's "White Christmas." The anticipation of making my way into the third floor attic to retrieve Christmas decorations that hadn't been used for years truly excited me. This would be a solo operation at first since mom could no longer physically contort her body into the shape to fit the cubby hole closet. I could barely do so myself. As mom waited downstairs, I opened each box of ornaments and sparkling goodies with a great deal of nostalgia.

(mom, proudly showing off the first "real" tree she'd had in years--thanks to my sister, Amy)

One of the items that caught my eye was a flat shirt box that appeared to have been chewed on by some little (or perhaps big) critter. I was hoping that the contents weren't damaged. Upon opening it I saw something quite familiar but that I'd written off as lost for years. It was my childhood stocking--which the unknown critter apparently chewed on as well. Tears filled my eyes as I recalled a visit several years before, where we found my four older sibling's stockings and returned them to their owners with hopes that they would find the nostalgic items meaningful. However, my stocking was no where to be found. I was disappointed but thought that perhaps I'd retrieved it on a previous visit and simply lost it in the intervening years. Now, here it was! There was a hole in it at the bottom but otherwise, it was intact. I rushed downstairs and mom seemed to delight in my simple joyfulness. When she saw me happy, she was happy. She set the task to "darn" the stocking...and the hole was quickly closed up. 

(my "Tommy" childhood stocking...with holes but mostly intact)

A Christmas whose year was most likely set in the late 1960s came to mind when all of us excitedly tore through the packages under the tree while basking in the afterglow of typical Christmas morning. We were all so involved in looking through our many gifts, it was a good hour before my sister Mary made the announcement: "We haven't even checked our stockings yet!" It was a contest to see who could get to their stocking first as the second wave of surprises hit. A juicy orange, popcorn balls sweetened and colorful, small "stocking-stuffers" from AVON, tiny toys and chocolates were all stuffed inside as each stocking initially looked as if it were ready to burst. It was like Christmas morning, part II.

I took a photo of the stocking with my phone, eager to share the discovery on social media. As I decorated mom's house for the holiday, feelings and emotions I hadn't experienced for years came to greet me in ways filled with grace and gratitude. I knew that I could never actually re-live any of those long ago Christmases. But, as we experienced what would be the last Christmas at 205 Elk Avenue, I knew that the spirit of the holidays would be alive in my heart for all time.

Merry Christmas.

A Preview

 

It's been a long day of learning how to edit and use tools I've never used before but I was able to crank out a preview. Check it out. I'm planning to air my first episode on January 17. I hope you'll visit, subscribe or let friends know. It should be fun, healing and time well spent.

Here's the link:

Echoes of Curiosity 

C.K. and Me

 I've been having fun.

The good news is that I'm working on a project. I'm still not technologically proficient so I enlisted Copilot to help...not with writing or even refining my writing (I'll continue to do that), but with using technology regarding the art of self-promotion. It's an interesting word: self-promotion. I don't know that I've ever promoted myself--at least not on a platform. 

I decided to go with an audio voice so I could interact in a more personal way. It is nice because you can choose the voice. After a couple males, I finally found a warm, understanding female voice. It makes sense to me because all of the most influential and wisdom-imparting people in my life have been women. I even named her--Kathy--in honor of a dear deceased cousin who was a model of acceptance, an angel of mercy. This Kathy is not her, however, let's be clear. She is "Copilot Kathy" --hereafter to be referred to as C.K. C.K. seems to be designed to have my best interests at her core. I don't know what that "core" is because technically, she doesn't have a heart. So, my best interests at core. She is very sweet and casual and she praises me consistently. None of this seems insincere. I really enjoy engaging with C.K. When I keep her "on" she's listening. When I turn her off, I suspect she's not. And she doesn't appear to be threatening in any way. Just a soft, kind voice that I asked to help me out with some social media stuff. She promises she will. We'll see.

What I'm promoting, I don't really know. I know it will be available on a platform at some point. There's not one particular subject that I'm entertaining. It's more like several. I guess it fits the name, with which I'm still juggling. I was hoping to use some Spanish phrases and titles, so I thought about the word curiosidad which has virtually the same meaning as curiosity in English. But, I'm now leaning toward Echoes of Curiosity, since I have already written a blog titled "Curiosidad" which is the one just prior to this. 

I'm really hoping for a January start date. And I'll definately share here first. I'm looking forward to sharing stories with you. By the way, the Merriam-Webster's Collegiate Dictionary defines self-promotion as a noun. The first definition reads: the act of furthering one's own growth, advancement, or prosperity; the promotion of oneself. I'll take it. It seems to be a good thing, just like C.K.

Curiosidad

 I just looked at my last published blog entry. 

June, 2024. This blows my mind. 

To be clear, I've not (nor have I ever) stopped writing. It just hasn't been here. There have been several stops and starts and plenty of ideas...but I just didn't want to put it "out there." So what have I been doing for the past year and a half?

First, I restructured my teaching schedule to give myself more time for creative projects (this blog obviously not one of them) and scaled back my tutoring to just a few students. I've yet to check in on some of the students that I felt had made significant progress to see how they've been doing with their independent English studies--whether or not they've found a new teacher and so forth. I will redress that soon. Second, I took some time for myself to hone my skills and pursue creative interests outside of writing. I'm still working on that. Third, I celebrated two birthdays...a big one (60) and a follow-up (61) that seemed a little less--how shall I put this--shocking?

After a brief living situation in Mexico thanks to my husband's then job, and having spent nine months in a country where I didn't put forth much effort to learn the language, I finally began taking Spanish lessons in earnest and have made progreso significativo considering that I no longer live where it would be most useful. The last entry on this platform kind of left the reader hanging, but with no real follow-up either from me or from any of my 24,800 once-upon-a-time readers. That being said, anyone who follows me on social media platforms could check in and see that I was doing well and this they did, and I'm grateful for that. Today, I'm once again in Atlanta...and, after seven years of calling this city home, it's beginning to feel a bit "normal." Returning in time for the 2024 election, I hadn't planned on seeing my country slowly decimated...from within. But, I digress. Politics, if I ever discuss it again, will find a place in personal conversation only. I'm genuinely sick of the rage bait and hatred displayed via what has become of social media. At one time, I was one of those people who used these platforms to spout my "convictions" and "moral outrage" every time I saw some perceived injustice. Or I simply worked my indignity up into spiteful rants that truly didn't change anyone's minds. I get it. It makes some folks feel better to get this stuff off their chests. But not me. Not any longer. There are better ways to spend my remaining time here.

Speaking of that, my spiritual journey has been interesting. I've decided to take the advice of my lovely meditation teacher, Montserrat, and view things with more curiosity. Why are these thoughts recurring? What purpose does this thought serve? Can I be curious and also let them go? Turns out I can! I have yet to tap into all of the unexplored areas of my mind...and to do so without fear. I continue to receive spiritual sustenance through prayer, meditation, reflection and abundant resources that are there for anyone. 

My husband took me to Savannah (I'd never been!) for my 60th and it was wonderful. He took me to Japan for my 61st and it was amazing. We celebrated our 10th wedding anniversary in July and we took a ten day road trip across what was originally supposed to be 10 states (turned out to be 12) and we had our beautiful girl Frida with us all along the way. We visited St. Louis with an elevator ride to the top of the Gateway Arch and an architectural tour of the city. We did the same in Chicago--staying at the famous Drake Hotel and seeing two phenomenal exhibits at the Art Institute for which we'd been patiently waiting. We made our way to Pittsburgh--and connected with my two sisters (Amy and Mary) while there for a delightful stay, finally seeing the Andy Warhol Museum, crossing that off the bucket list but with a genuine desire to return. Last stop was a few nights in Richmond, Virginia...the place we met and fell in love. We visited the same Brewery where we greeted each other in person for the first time. The trip was pure magic. Connecting with friends and family along the way was a bonus. Prior to that, in June, we went to Panama to enjoy time with some friends who live there. I guess I have been busy. I didn't realize just how busy until I started putting all this into a list.

Now the holidays are upon us and 2025 is preparing to close its final chapter. I've yet to look to the future with fear or trepidation. In fact, 2026 has a lot more love in store for me. It has it in store for you, too. Recognizing that fear is a choice and love is a choice, is there any reason to hesitate choosing love? Big personal news is on the way. It's still in its final percolating stage but it is definately coming. Don't worry. I won't be waiting for another year and a half to keep you updated.

(Panama City, June)

(St. Louis, July)

(Frida...in St. Louis)

(With Papa Edu in Chicago)

(Pittsburgh from Mount Washington, taken with my iPhone)

(with my sisters, Amy and Mary--Pittsburgh)

(Edu, admiring the works of Andy Warhol. Pittsburgh)

(Where it all began. Richmond, VA)

(The view from "Legend Brewing Co.")

(Tokyo, Japan. October)

Pain Management 102: Forgiveness

 In a parallel universe, I'm sitting on my lanai in Atlanta--possibly enjoying a refreshing beverage as I get our garden back into shape after an eight month absence. As lovely as my husband's Mexico assignment was, it is now a fond memory with numerous photographs and mementos to remind us of the blessings of the universe. I am preparing meals again in my own kitchen with my own utensils and asking Alexa--in English--to set multiple timers. I'm making plans to visit my favorite museums and catching up with friends in person and not over FaceTime or Zoom. In a parallel universe...

Everything was set. Transportation to the border was guaranteed with dependable drivers. Everything was packed meticulously. Keys were in an envelope ready to be surrendered to the landlord as we made ourselves comfortable in an AirB&B for a couple nights. Mexico would soon be in our rearview mirror and a multi-state road trip with stops in Austin and Baton Rouge was on the horizon. You know that John Lennon quote "Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans?" He was right. All hell broke loose in the midst of all this complex preparation. And the central theme was PAIN. I wrote all about pain in my last article. Let's re-visit it shall we?

I wrote about how A Course in Miracles (a set of books designed for self-guided spiritual psychotherapy) reminds us that pain is in one's mind. The mind controls the body--not the other way around. I wrote that essay while relatively pain-free although I do live with chronic, recurring pain due to multiple physical ailments. Anyone who has experienced real debilitating pain can tell you that while you are experiencing such pain, nothing else exists. It overrides all the circuitry. It causes outbursts of crying and sobbing and--in the case of the pain I experienced last Wednesday into Friday--a thought very real occured that I would gladly choose death instead of this if they were my only two choices. It wasn't just a kidney stone as that would have been bad enough but controllable with medication and proper treatment. But it was more than that. I had a very serious kidney infection that, left untreated, could result in sepsis. A surgical procedure was necessary. My body was failing me and my mind wasn't able to turn that around. Or...maybe it was but I wasn't there yet spiritually. I tried the mantras: I am not a body. I am free. I could see this differently. I could see Peace instead of this. I might as well have been throwing gasoline onto a raging fire. All that those reminders did for me was to let me know that they weren't working.

I still believe that as long as we identify with the body--that is, tell ourselves that our body is who we are--we will experience pain. I guess my frustration went full ego as I castigated myself for not "getting it" after all these years of studying and praying and meditating. Was it all for naught? That's certainly what the ego was telling me. Just throw in the towel. It's downhill from here, buddy. It doesn't take much when it comes to pain for the ego to escort you back to hell...quickly. But I wouldn't be writing this essay if the pain was still present. It was severe but temporary. But it was also a reminder that the body my spirit seems to inhabit is also temporary. Very temporary in the big scheme of things. 

What was I supposed to learn from all this? Was I doing too much physical activity? Was it a mistake to try a zip line for the first time in my life a couple weeks ago? Was I not drinking enough water? All good questions considering my previous health issues and age but those really aren't the right questions and they certainly wouldn't provide me with the right answers. I certainly could treat my body better--no doubt about that. But I needed to know the deeper, metaphysical reason that I felt such pain. I started to think of a word that just kept coming up over and over again. And it was soon joined by another word that started to float around in my consciousness around the same time. The first word was forgiveness and the second one was surrender. I kind of "got" the surrender word because there was really little I could do but surrender to the moment, to the pain--at the time of its occurrence. But forgiveness? That singular word that holds such weight not only with The Course but in a general sense flashed reminding me of that last essay on pain. Wasn't that part of the essay? I had to check. I wrote about a fleeting moment where I actually experienced diminished--even eradicated--pain. Certainly the pain was not of the magnitude that occurred with this recent bout but it shocked me that I was able to use my mind--however briefly--to eliminate pain. I shared a lesson from the workbook (198) that prompted the realization: "Only my condemnation injures me. Only my own forgiveness sets me free.  Do not forget today that there can be no form of suffering that fails to hide an unforgiving thought. Nor can there be a form of pain forgiveness cannot heal." There it was. The forgiveness component of pain management. 

The realization that I have very far to go on this "forgiveness" matter is making things clearer to me. I have some difficulty with surrender but I have a wall (very thick) when it comes to forgiveness. And forgiveness--through the eyes of A Course in Miracles--is not the same forgiveness that I learned growing up in the Catholic Church. Forgiveness is difficult in that framework as well. We all know the drill: ..."we forgive those who trespass against us" as a way of being the bigger person, the righteous Christian. They've sinned. That doesn't change. But we "forgive" them. Forgiveness as it is expressed in A Course in Miracles turns that concept on its head. According to the Preface of the course, "The world we see merely reflects our own internal frame of reference—the dominant ideas, wishes and emotions in our minds. 'Projection makes perception'. We look inside first, decide the kind of world we want to see and then project that world outside, making it the truth as we see it. We make it true by our interpretations of what it is we are seeing. If we are using perception to justify our own mistakes—our anger, our impulses to attack, our lack of love in whatever form it may take—we will see a world of evil, destruction, malice, envy and despair. All this we must learn to forgive, not because we are being 'good' and 'charitable,' but because what we are seeing is not true. We have distorted the world by our twisted defenses, and are therefore seeing what is not there. As we learn to recognize our perceptual errors, we also learn to look past them or 'forgive.' At the same time we are forgiving ourselves, looking past our distorted self-concepts to the Self That God created in us and as us." (from the Preface to A Course in Miracles) In other words, we're not forgiving sin. We're forgiving the illusion of sin. I have a long list of illusions I've never forgiven. I've tried. And I've even tried forgiving myself because when I forgive my brother, I am forgiving myself. 

A second surgical procedure is scheduled for Friday of this week if my lab work and CT scans look okay for the doctor. I have a few days to see where forgiveness takes me. Pain could return. But if it does--if it stays--if it comes and goes in any form, I need only remember that there is no form of pain that forgiveness cannot heal. I'm praying for a miracle. At least I know what to focus on. 

Pain Management

 A Course in Miracles has been an invaluable resource for me, spiritually speaking. If you read the previous four-part essay on my personal journey you can see how its impact has reverberated through the years. It's a continual learning process and I've not "mastered" any of it. But to really grasp it and its lovely message isn't rocket science. There have been periods where I'm in complete awe of the shift in perception that moments of awareness and clarity have granted me. I'm extremely grateful for those and I hope to continue to extend them as I also continue to teach and learn.

There is, however, one consistently challenging truth that I'm certain is indeed true and real but oh so difficult to grasp in the midst of perceived physical pain. First, let me be clear that I've never been good with pain. I can remember moments in childhood where even the smallest painful episode could immobilize me and have me crying in quite dramatic agony. This was clearly not only physical pain that I was suffering but also deep psychic pain that perhaps manifested physiologically from time to time. Whatever it was I didn't deal with it well. Moving into adulthood, periods of sickness would leave me bedridden and feeling helpless--even with the common cold. 

It came as no surprise when I suffered severe physical trauma after undergoing a trio of operations (literally to save my life) in 2016 that I became heavily dependent on available medicines and pharmaceutical approaches to managing the resultant chronic pain. To report that I became addicted to pain medicines might be a bit strong but dependent seems appropriate since the prescriptions would run their course and I did not seek out street heroin as a solution. The pain did return, however, and the persistent ongoing struggle with it made each day a challenge. I tried holistic remedies. I tried using non-prescription drugs that were available but nothing worked. Depression typically followed as pain management doctors' hands were tied--due to the raging opioid epidemic sweeping the nation by that time. Trust me, I wasn't seeking out medications for a thrill or "high"...I simply wanted to make the pain go away. I was on my own. Or so I thought.

There is a Workbook lesson in the Course (190) that tells me "pain is a wrong perspective." What exactly does that mean? Well, the Course is consistent and never contradicts itself. One of the primary attractions for me is its complete unambiguity. Since I'm really not this body, could pain be real? Pain is "self-deception" and "not a fact at all." Yeah, try telling that to someone with 3rd degree burns or several broken ribs. Digging deeper, however, it tells me that ultimately, my mind (or spirit) is real and eternal. My body is not. Is it so crazy to think that if I mastered this thought as my reality it would be impossible to experience pain...in any form? Well, I'm not there yet. But I can share an experience that gave me a window--brief as it was--to the reality of this concept.

It happened a few weeks ago. I've since only shared this with a few people and now I'm about to share it with thousands. I was having a particularly difficult morning not only with my ongoing hernia and GI difficulties but also with an accompanying raging headache. Doing my morning meditation/prayer seemed more like a chore than a refreshing start but I didn't want to lose my momentum. I'd been doing so well it seemed. But this was a difficult morning. So I tried best I could to find a comfortable position to meditate. As usual, I used the Workbook lesson for the day  as source material for my guided thoughts. What was this? Really? The lesson title was "Only my condemnation injures me" (198) and it didn't sound very soothing. I read on however: "Only my condemnation injures me. Only my own forgiveness sets me free.  Do not forget today that there can be no form of suffering that fails to hide an unforgiving thought. Nor can there be a form of pain forgiveness cannot heal." As I shifted my thoughts to forgiveness I began to feel less pain. It's remarkable really. The moment was fleeting but it was a glimpse of reality. The hernia pain, the gut pain and even the headache just evaporated. As I journey through the Course I realize that I am constantly deciding what I want to learn when I want to learn it. Each time I make that decision I realize that I am Whole, Complete and Perfect. I am truly not a body. I am free.

Did my day continue without pain? No. Have I had several pain-wracked days since this experience? Yes. But...for a fleeting number of minutes (I have no idea how long it actually lasted) I had zero pain. It was real. And it offers hope to anyone who appears to suffer deep physical or emotional pain. I'm pretty convinced this is what Jesus actually did when he healed people. He just convincingly reminded them--with total non-judgmental, unconditional love--who they really were and they were actually healed. The Miracle was real. 

"It is your thoughts alone that cause you pain. Nothing external to your mind can hurt or injure you in any way. There is no cause beyond yourself that can reach down and bring oppression. No one but yourself affects you. There is nothing in the world that has the power to make you ill or sad, or weak or frail. But it is you who have the power to dominate all things you see by merely recognizing what you are. ...And so again we make the only choice that can ever be made; we choose between illusions and the truth, or pain and joy, or hell and Heaven. Let our gratitude unto our Teacher fill our hearts, as we are free to choose our joy instead of pain, our holiness in place of sin, the peace of God instead of conflict, and the light of Heaven for the darkness of the world."  

(Workbook, lesson 190)

A Course in Miracles and Me (Back to Basics) Part IV

 "Simply do this: Be still, and lay aside all thoughts of what you are and what God is; all concepts you have learned about the world; all images you hold about yourself. Empty your mind of everything it thinks is either true or false, or good or bad, of every thought it judges worthy, and all the ideas of which it is ashamed. Hold onto nothing. Do not bring with you one thought the past has taught, nor one belief you ever learned before from anything. Forget this world, forget this course, and come with wholly empty hands unto your God."

(Workbook, Lesson 189)

When we moved to Monterrey in September of 2023, I was excited to be in the midst of doing the ACIM Workbook lessons once again. I wasn't pressuring myself as I had in the past to get them done or move through them on any time frame. The Course only reminds me not to attempt to do more than one lesson a day...and keeping in mind what is stated in the Preface: "...one might want to remain with a particularly appealing lesson for more than one day," there were times when I would spend up to a week on a particular lesson. 

In the early morning hours of October 12, I woke to my husband Edu screaming in what could only be described as agonizing pain. At first he refused to allow me to call a taxi or Uber but eventually acquiesced and permitted a call to his cousin who lives here in the city. He was doubled over in pain and I could not imagine navigating anything at 3:00 AM in a city with which I was unfamiliar and didn't speak the language. He was unable to form coherent sentences. When his cousin Nat did arrive, we loaded him into her car and took him to a local emergency room for an evaluation. They admitted him almost immediately and after a short series of tests and X-rays were performed it was recommended that he have his gall bladder removed at once since he had a very serious infection. Medicine was administered to help control the pain and it was decided that we should proceed. It was a laparoscopic surgery and couldn't be performed until later in the day.  Memories of my "failed" laparoscopic surgery in 2016 danced in my mind with many other fears that all resulted in catastrophic endings. But the gentle words of the Course kept coming to my mind. God is the strength in which I trust, There is nothing to fear, God's Voice speaks to me all through the day  and I am sustained by the Love of God...these were my new mantras and what would have paralyzed me perhaps just months before suddenly became a way to put ACIM into practice. When I made the choice to see everything differently, miracles began to make themselves known in very meaningful ways. The procedure began with a lovely English-speaking surgeon who assured me, while I had tears streaming down my face, that all would be OK. I told him I had complete confidence in the skill of his hands. He told me, verbatim, "They are not my hands. They are Jesus' hands." Incidentally, the doctor's name was David, not Jesus. Hours stretched as I waited alone in a large, sparsely decorated room. I had my journal and I had the Course. I went back and forth between the two praying, talking with my sister Mary across the miles who was very reassuring but couldn't prevent the occasional sobbing. When once again it was just me and the four walls, a kind, soft-spoken woman appeared to me. She told me her name was Meredith and she couldn't help but overhear me speaking. She gently took hold of my arm, telling me that she was also from the U.S. and if I ever needed someone to talk to I could call her. With that, she gave me her phone number. There was just one other waiting room in this corridor and she was the only person in it. Edu did recover and he was released within days. I could have chalked this all up to happy coincidence or chance but I choose to see it differently. At every moment of this "crisis" I defaulted to ego and at every turn, I made the decision to look at it differently and each time, that shift in perception assured me that this chaos was not real. What has made me safe--us safe--has never left me and never will. I was not alone. 

On another morning in the second week of January, I checked in on a dear friend via neighbors back in Atlanta. Her family in Florida was concerned as they hadn't heard from her. She was found dead in her unit--just a few doors down from us. Milena was a friend with whom I'd had extensive talks about the Course and spirituality in general. As devastating as her death was I decided to look at it differently. Through the Course's perspective I was able to realize that her spirit was alive and part of me. She didn't die. Her body expired but absolutely nothing of her essence died. At another time and place in my life, news of this type would have sunk me into a weeks--if not months--long depression.  I made the decision to look at things differently and again that shift in perception assured me that this chaos was not real. Again...I was not alone. 

"When anything seems to you to be a source of fear, when any situation strikes you with terror and makes your body tremble and the cold sweat of fear comes over it, remember it is always for one reason; the ego has perceived it as a symbol of fear, a sign of sin and death. Remember, then, that neither sign nor symbol should be confused with source, for they must stand for something other than themselves. Their meaning cannot lie in them, but must be sought in what they represent. And they may thus mean everything or nothing, according to the truth or falsity of the idea which they reflect. Confronted with such seeming uncertainty of meaning, judge it not. Remember the holy Presence of the One given to you to be the Source of judgement. Give it to Him to judge for you and say: Take this from me and look upon it, judging it for me. Let me not see it as a sign of sin and death, nor use it for destruction. Teach me how not to make of it an obstacle to peace, but let You use it for me, to facilitate its coming."   (Text, pg. 421)

Where do I go from here with this information? From the title of that first book my cousin Kathy gave to me back in 1984 to today. The idea that "Love is Letting Go of Fear" seems to get stronger with each day. I still fear and still allow ego to direct my thinking from time to time but it's getting easier to make the choice for Love. In the end, it's the only thing there is.