Seasons of the Soul

Food for Thought

It is some fundamental certainty which a noble soul has about itself,

something which is

not to be sought,

is not to be found,

and perhaps, also,

is not to be lost.

The noble soul has

reverence for itself.

    ~Friedrich Nietzsche

Thoughts About the True Miracle in the Andes

Thoughts About the True Miracle in the Andes
    By Cynthia Boaz
    t r u t h o u t | Perspective

    Sunday 14 October 2007

    Exactly 35 years ago today, a horrific and extraordinary chain of events was set in motion high in the Andes above Chile. A small commuter plane carrying 45 people crashed on Friday, October 13, 1972. For the next two months, a group of survivors of the crash, most of whom were the young members of a Uruguayan rugby team called the "Old Christians," kept themselves alive against all laws of nature, physics and reason. Like many, you are probably familiar with this story because of its more gruesome details, some of which - namely that the survivors ate the flesh of the dead in order to stay alive - were obsessed over and sensationalized in media for months after the rescue, and then again in the early 1990s when Frank Marshall directed a film called "Alive" (based on Piers Paul Read's book). If you saw the film or read the book, you will recall that one of the primary characters on the mountain was a man named Nando Parrado. Nando says in his own book, "Miracle in the Andes" (published in 2006), that he was not a man of any particular leadership skill or quality at the time of the crash, but nonetheless, over the course of the two months following the accident, he emerged as the key figure in the salvation of the other 15 survivors.

    Nando was the driving force behind an expedition out of the mountains (which he undertook along with medical student Roberto Canessa) to get the group rescued after 60 days of surviving freezing temperatures, altitude sickness, a crushing avalanche (which killed eight of their companions in a matter of minutes), starvation, thirst, grief, despair and the horror of being witness to their own slow deaths. Nando and Roberto walked for 11 days over a 17,000-ft peak and across more than 60 miles of ice, snow, and rock with nothing but the street clothes they had packed for a weekend vacation and the will to live.

    When Nando came to SUNY Brockport last month to speak to students, he had an audience of more than 1,500 (the largest I've seen there by a scale of three times). Before he left the stage, he had been given three standing ovations, each of which lasted well over a minute. I was very fortunate to get to spend some time with Nando after his talk, and he graciously allowed me to ask him anything I wanted to know about his experience in the Andes. After some discussion of things like his relationships with the other survivors, how he has been able to not let the disaster be the most important thing in his life, and what he learned on that mountain about himself and human beings, I came to realize that what was most fascinating to me about Nando was not the tragedy or even that he had had the amazing luck to survive such an ordeal. What is most extraordinary about Nando is that he has taken an experience that might destroy most of us, and instead of defining himself as a victim, he has chosen to use his survival as an opportunity to embrace life fully and to show others how to do that as well. He spends many months traveling each year to talk to audiences all over the world about his experiences. But he doesn't lecture them on "leadership" or "teamwork" or "courage." He talks to them simply and candidly about how he learned that love is the only sane reaction to horror and death. He credits his will to survive - indeed, his survival itself - to his love for his father. It's interesting, because although he always packs the room, I get the feeling that Nando doesn't fully understand why people respond to him the way they do. He perceives that he is made into a hero for his actions (which is probably true in the case of some people), and more powerfully (and correctly) that his story resonates with people because it demonstrates to them that anything can be endured and overcome. But I think the most significant reason that people respond so strongly to Nando is not just because of what he endured, but because he reminds us that even in the most hopeless of situations, we still have a choice. At its core, Nando's story demonstrates that we always have a degree of control over our lives, even if that choice is simply defining the terms under which we die. This phenomenon is much more than hopefulness or optimism; it is the manifestation of human agency. It is the essence of empowerment.

    There is a quote from Nando's book where, after being on the mountain for more than two months, enduring the deaths of 29 friends and family members (including his mother and sister), and upon reaching the summit of a 17,000-foot peak in 30-below-zero temperatures in jeans and sneakers, expecting to see green valleys below, he only sees more peaks and snow-filled valleys as far as the eye can see.

    Nando writes:

I don't know how long I stood there, staring. A minute. Maybe two. I stood motionless until I felt a burning pressure in my lungs, and realized I had forgotten to breathe. I cursed God and raged at the mountains. The truth was before me: For all my striving, all my hopes, all my whispered promises to myself and my father, it would end like this. We would all die in these mountains. We would sink beneath the snow, and ancient silence would fall over us, and our loved ones would never know how hard we had struggled to return to them. In that moment, all my dreams, assumptions and expectations of life evaporated into the thin Andean air. My love for my father swelled in my heart and I realized that, despite the hopelessness of my situation, the memory of him filled me with joy. It staggered me. The mountains, for all their power, were not stronger than my attachment to my father. They could not crush my ability to love. I felt a moment of calmness and clarity, and in that clarity of mind I discovered a simple, astounding secret: Death has an opposite, but the opposite is not mere living. It is not courage or faith or human will. The opposite of death is love. How had I missed that? How does anyone miss that? Only love can turn mere life into a miracle and draw precious meaning from suffering and fear. For a brief, magical moment, all my fears lifted and I knew that I would not let death control me. I would walk through the godforsaken country that separated me from my home with love and hope in my heart. I would walk until I had walked all the life out of me, and when I fell, I would die that much closer to my father.

    In that moment, when he accepted his own death as inevitable and impending, Nando made what must have seemed to him a tiny choice, but which had enormous consequences. Although he was sure that he would never see home again, he chose to refuse the path of least resistance. Instead of lying down in the snow and waiting for death to come to him (as he had pondered doing on many occasions during those two months), Nando elected to continue walking. He understood in that moment that the fear of death was the real horror. In making that split-second choice to take one more step, to breathe in and out one more time, Nando conquered that fear and discovered a reserve of spiritual resilience that he believes (as I also do) is accessible to everyone. Nando's transformational experience on that summit is not unlike what Buddha or Gandhi or other great spiritual leaders have described. Although he didn't know it at the time, in choosing to continue walking, Nando not only saved his own life and those of 15 other men, but he pulled all of us one step further down the road of human evolution.

---

    Cynthia Boaz is assistant professor of political science and international studies at the State University of New York at Brockport. She is currently working on a book project about leadership in the age of global citizenship.

A Heart Full of Honey

by Hal Manogue

" I dreamt last night, oh marvelous error, that there were honeybees in my heart, making honey out of my old failures."

Antonio Machado was born in Seville, Spain in 1875. He was a Spanish poet and one of the leading figures in the Spanish literary movement known as the Generation of '98.

Antonio's idea of turning his failures into productive experiences is an important one. I have had many failures through the years and each one has not only taught me something about myself, but also encouraged me to continue on my journey of remembering with my eyes open and my heart full of honey.
As I look back on these failures, I see them now as lessons that I created for myself. At the time I didn't blame myself for them, there was always someone or something else there to blame; I never caused the suffering and pain I went through, by the choices I had made. I never had the insight to see what I was doing to myself. The world was a big bad place and I was a victim of circumstances and luck. I failed to feel my truth, and went blindly into situations that could only have one outcome.

Failure is a word I feared, and that was what I focused my attention on. I was always in a state of fear, and I attracted that experience into my physical life. I did not go into these ventures with love in my heart, I was filled with illusions, and the end result was filled with what I expected. What I asked for, I was given.

I know now each act that I labeled, as failure was a blessing waiting for me to accept it. They became part of the me that accepts all the choices I have made. All of my thoughts have gotten me where I am now. Through the pain and suffering I was able to change my thoughts and focus on the honey in my heart. I was able to forgive myself and ask forgiveness from those I may have hurt by my choices. I was able to grow into a grander version of the self that had been hidden in the fear of failure. This grander version of myself accepts responsibility for the choices I make and lives them without fear. I am the bee who creates honey in my heart and shares it in gratitude.
Now I treat success and failure as natural experiences on my journey. I fill every choice with love and I dress myself in truth. My truth is to be the connected spirit, traveling a physical journey to grow from the contrast of being human and expand from the experience. I do this filled with the freedom and awareness of All There Is: Love.

Don't Hope, Friend....Decide!

by Michael D. Hargrove

While waiting to pick up a friend at the airport in Portland, Oregon, I had one of those life changing experiences that you hear other people talk about. You know, the kind that sneaks up on you unexpectedly? Well, this one occurred a mere two feet away from me!

Straining to locate my friend among the passengers deplaning through the jetway, I noticed a man coming toward me carrying two light bags. He stopped right next to me to greet his family.

First, he motioned to his youngest son (maybe six years old) as he laid down his bags. They gave each other a long, and movingly loving hug. As they separated enough to look in each other's face, I heard the father say, "It's so good to see you, son. I missed you so much!" His son smiled somewhat shyly, diverted his eyes, and replied softly, "Me too, Dad!"

Then the man stood up, gazed in the eyes of his oldest son (maybe 9 or 10) and while cupping his son's face in his hands he said, "You're already quite the young man. I love you very much Zach!" They too hugged a most loving, tender hug. His son said nothing. No reply was necessary.

While this was happening, a baby girl (perhaps one or one and a half) was squirming excitedly in her mother's arms, never once taking her little eyes off the wonderful sight of her returning father. The man said, "Hi babygirl!" as he gently took the child from her mother. He quickly kissed her face all over and then held her close to his chest while rocking her from side to side. The little girl instantly relaxed and simply laid her head on his shoulder and remained motionless in total pure contentment.

After several moments, he handed his daughter to his oldest son and declared, "I've saved the best for last!" and proceeded to give his wife the longest, most passionate kiss I ever remember seeing. He gazed into her eyes for several seconds and then silently mouthed, "I love you so much!" They stared into each other's eyes, beaming big smiles at one another, while holding both hands. For an instant, they reminded me of newlyweds but I knew by the age of their kids that they couldn't be. I puzzled about it for a moment, then realized how totally engrossed I was in the wonderful display of unconditional love not more than an arm's length away from me. I suddenly felt uncomfortable, as if I were invading something sacred, but was amazed to hear my own voice nervously ask, "Wow! How long have you two been married?"

"Been together fourteen years total, married twelve of those," he replied without breaking his gaze from his lovely wife's face. "Well then, how long have you been away?" I asked. The man finally looked at me, still beaming his joyous smile and told me, "Two whole days!"

Two days?! I was stunned! I was certain by the intensity of the greeting I just witnessed that he'd been gone for at least several weeks, if not months, and I know my expression betrayed me. So I said almost offhandedly, hoping to end my intrusion with some semblance of grace (and to get back to searching for my friend), "I hope my marriage is still that passionate after twelve years!"

The man suddenly stopped smiling. He looked me straight in the eye, and with an intensity that burned right into my soul, he told me something that left me a different person. He told me, "Don't hope friend...decide." Then he flashed me his wonderful smile again, shook my hand and said, "God bless!" With that, he and his family turned and energetically strode away together.

I was still watching that exceptional man and his special family walk just out of sight when my friend came up to me and asked, "What'cha looking at?" Without hesitating, and with a curious sense of certainty, I replied, "My future!"

Michael D. Hargrove

© Copyright 1997 by Michael D. Hargrove. All rights reserved. Used with author's permission. Visit Michael's website at: www.bluinc.com 

20 Things to Remember

1. Faith is the ability to not panic.

2. If you worry, you didn't pray. If you prayed, don't worry.

3. As a child of God, prayer is kinda like calling home every
day.

4. Blessed are the flexible, for they shall not be bent out of
shape.

5. When we get tangled up in our problems, be still. God wants
us to be still so He can untangle the knot.

6. Do the math. Count your blessings.

7. God wants spiritual fruit, not religious nuts.

8. Dear God: I have a problem. It's me.

9. Silence is often misinterpreted, but never misquoted.

10. Laugh every day - it's like inner jogging.

11. The most important things in your home are the people.

12. Growing old is inevitable, growing up is optional.
(Preach it!)

13. There is no key to h appiness. The door is always open.
Come on in.

14. A grudge is a heavy thing to carry.

15. He who dies with the most toys is still dead.

16. We do not remember days but moments. Life moves too fast so
enjoy your precious moments.

17. Nothing is real to you until you experience it; otherwise
it's just hearsay.

18. It's all right to sit on your pity pot every now and again.
Just be sure to flush when you are done.

19. Surviving and living your life successfully requires
courage. The goals and dreams you're seeking require courage
and risk-taking. Learn from the turtle, it only makes progress
when it sticks out its neck.

20. Be more concerned with your character than your reputation.
Your character is what you really are, while your reputation
is merely what others think you are. No matter the storm,
when you are with God, there's always a rainbow waiting.
Leave gentle fingerprints on t he soul of another for the
angels to read. I don't want to get to the end of my life
and find that I lived just the length of it. I want to have
lived the width of it as well.

~author unknown

Dark Night, Emerging Light

The call came in June. “Kathleen, I’m in the hospital in terrible pain.” With that began an odyssey of dark and light that continued for the remainder of the year. My mother had undiagnosed digestive disorders for the previous 14 months. She went from specialist to specialist, lost over 20 pounds, but was given no diagnosis. Finally, her gut twisted itself and refused to unbind.
She was taken to the hospital, had emergency surgery, a resection because the twisted part had gone into gangrene, and almost died on the operating table because of a heart attack during the procedure. However, she didn’t die. She came out of the surgery, struggled back to health, and was released from the hospital two weeks later.

As I shuttled between her place in San Francisco and my home on the Peninsula, I saw she was failing. I’d just started a new business, and tried to juggle work with overseeing care for mom.
One day I was up helping her, noticed that she was trying to open one of her heavy windows, and feared she’d fall out of the tower apartment in which she lived. So I looked for window stops, saw something on the top that looked like it might be that, pulled them down…lifted the window to see if it worked, and the next thing I knew, the heavy metal framed window was crashing on my temple…less than 1/8 inch from my eye. I felt the thud and was stunned. However, I was grateful that the blow was there and not in my eye. I was very fortunate, and made a mental note of gratitude. I seemed to be alright, put the window back, and sat down for a bit to get my bearings.

As the day wore on, a huge lump began to emerge, and by the next day and the day after the whole side of my face was black and blue. I felt weak and a little disoriented. I had a concussion. Because of this, I couldn’t work. Because I couldn’t work, I realized I needed to bring my mother to my home so I could watch her more closely. She was not doing well.

My partner and I drove up to the City early on a Saturday morning and brought her to our place. I was so relieved, and realized that had I not gotten the concussion, I would be working and unable to do this. Another note of gratitude.

The next morning, my mother experienced the same pains she had the day she called 911, and we called an ambulance to take her to the hospital nearest our home. From July 2, for the remainder of the year, she was in the hospital, with two short times of release followed by relapse. She has had a complex combination of symptoms that defied diagnosis until one doctor thought about an ailment found in Europeans. He took a biopsy and found one of the culprits, Celiac-Sprue…a complete intolerance to wheat and gluten in any form. But then they noted that she also had ischemic colitis, a deterioration of the colon and inability to absorb nutrients.

My mother dropped from 125 lbs. at the onset of the disease to 76 lbs. She was on the verge of death, on the verge of health, and everything in between. A lesser person would have folded given the ordeal she endured. But she was not a lesser person. Instead, she went through the dark night of the soul, struggled with whether or not there is a God, and came out of an inner battle that brought her into a light body she never knew before. She made peace with old hurts, overcame one of her worst traits…extreme impatience, and became a model of an intangible quality we all long to possess. The entire staff of the hospital marveled at her kindness to them, her appreciation in even the worst moments, and her ineffable light. She weighed next to nothing, but there was a strength and energy that radiated from her that made people stop and feel better because they had been in her room.

One day her doctor phoned me to tell me the latest prognosis was not good. Her entire intestinal tract was ulcerated, and the blood flow was not getting where it needed to go. Yet, he said to me, “Your mother is the most extraordinary person I have ever encountered. She demonstrates the most unbelievable patience, dignity, and acceptance of what is happening to her. I just can’t get over it.”  A few days later my mother told me that she would never be able to describe what she had experienced in the past six months because it was indescribable. The closest she could come was to say it was as though all her life she had been a tight bud waiting to open, and this experience and the inner battles she endured brought her into full bloom. She also said that if someone asked her if she would be willing to go through the entire ordeal again if she knew this would be the outcome, she would say “Yes” without hesitation. That says a lot. And that comes to the point of this article.

We never know the reason for certain circumstances being planted in our lives. They are the seeds that bear fruit we don’t always understand. But they are also the opportunities for deeper self-knowing when we open to receive whatever comes our way. When we resist, we miss golden opportunities. When we gloss over conditions in an attempt to always be positive, we miss the gifts that are often only found in the dark. Sometimes in order to gain our lives, we have to go through the dark night of the soul. And there may be more than one, just as winter comes more than once in a lifetime. However, just as winter comes, and dark nights come, there is always the light that follows. My mother was an example of someone who faced the worst, held herself as best she could to accept what was being given, and triumphed in a way that many people never do.

We do not have to control or manipulate life to gain the best from it. We merely need to acquiesce…to open to possibilities in what is being presented, and to move from the bud of potential into our own full bloom.
From Seasons of the Soul 2000 

Book Review: Unstoppable by Cynthia Kersey

Title: Unstoppable                                                                                              Author:  Cynthia Kersey                                                                           Publisher: Sourcebooks, Inc.

I have a few books I've been given to review, and as much as I sit down to read them, the timing doesn't seem to be right. However, one book that came across my desk recently has just the right mix of inspiration and easy reading.  It is Unstoppable, by Cynthia Kersey. This book is full of forty five inspirational stories that are about real people who have found their way to reaching fulfilling lives. Some have achieved financial success, and others have achieved other goals. But all of them have gone through trials that tested their intention, their character, and willingness to do what they were "called" to in spite of adversity, delays, or frustration. 

Kersey has identified key characteristics that seem to be universal amongst people who succeed, and has arranged her stories accordingly. They include Purpose that ignites one's Spirit, Passion that fuels inexhaustible energy, Belief that sustains the journey, Preparation that builds the foundation, Team effort that strengthens the cause, Creativity that taps unconscious resources, and Perseverance that brings the ultimate rewards.

In reading about people who have found their purpose and overcome daunting odds, we are given an opportunity to take a second look at how we are doing life, and where we either measure up to our potential or fall short.

Unstoppable is a great reminder that we are all born with gifts of one sort or another. Our task is to uncover and nourish them and to bring them into full bloom. This book is a primer to do just that!

Tricking Yourself to Find Yourself

The reason that the teachers have yelled different spiritual disciplines at you is not because there is anything particularly holy about any one of them, but because they are trying to trick you into remembering. Doesn't it strike you as odd that there are so many different paths? Well, is it not possible that underlying all of those differences there is the desire to help you trick yourself into remembering to flip the switch that allows the current to flow between you and that which you are seeking? That loving supportive energy has always been hovering around you.

Even in your most despairing moments, as you are crying out, the thing that you are looking for surrounds you. But, instead, at those points everything goes into a holding pattern. The entire physical and emotional vehicle freezes. You hold very still, because you don't want to feel more pain than you think you can bear.

When you say you become well, that the pain has left, it is because you begin to loosen up inside. All of the inner symbols that you have not been able to touch upon in that frozenness begin to come alive in the thaw, slowly, slowly. And they tell you on a deep level that you can trust this process. Then moment-by-moment, day-by-day, sometimes year-by-year, comes the reawakening of trust.

The symbols of trustworthiness for the entire process of life are deeply embedded with you. So those of you who have been or will go into deep stress, just remember it's as if you freeze and then you slowly, gently thaw, and to whatever extent you can accept them, the symbols come alive. Those of you who are loving those people in times of stress, simply hold them in your warmth and in your caring and that will help the melting process.

Words will do nothing. Energy is the only gift, the open gift. Give them your energy and allow them to use it for the thawing of their position. There is no one who, if their desire is strong enough, cannot move into a deep relationship with the Life that always surrounds them, and most specifically with the Comforter
~Author Unkown

Sanctuary and Retreat

Last October I had the good fortune to travel to Jemez Springs, New Mexico, to be introduced to a place and people who are truly gems. If you would like to experience nourishment of your soul in an environment that offers hospitality and the beauty of deep sacredness, Jemez Springs is a place to consider. This small community is deceptive to the eye, because it appears to be little more than a spot on a lovely drive through the mountains. Yet, housed within the space of several miles are places for retreat, hot natural sulfur springs, mineral baths, massage, good food, art and artifacts, Indian museums, historical sites, ruins and villages, a Buddhist retreat center, Catholic monastery, and a wonderful river and mountains that I found to be some of the most sacred I’ve ever encountered.

During my journey to New Mexico I recognized how as a Californian I am always ready at some level to experience earthquakes. When I was there, I felt the solidity and depth of the earth. California is newly forming land. New Mexico land is ancient. It is very still and holds the memory of Creation in a powerful, yet quieting way. I could see why there is so much art that emerges from the state. It is a creative incubator. Whereas California has a dynamic energy that is constantly on the cutting edge, New Mexico offers tranquility to the soul. The economy is depressed there, but the spirit is not. This makes it an especially wonderful place for retreat.
From Seasons of the Soul 1996

The Wisdom of Nature

Years ago while working in the garden, the spirit of a tree in my backyard spoke to me. It was through impressions, and was very clear in its directives of what should be pruned and what not. While working in the garden I sensed a beautiful cooperative effort between the soil, insects, plants, all playing their parts with perfect grace and attunement.

    The tree impressed me with the idea that a certain branch was to be left alone, for there was an important purpose in its being draped as it was. I followed the impression and noted as I sat inside looking out that its shape was beautiful and added to the garden rather than detracting from it. Another aspect of my impression was to make sure that my housemate did not cut that branch either. However, since she never gardened, I didn't remember to tell her what I felt from the tree.

    The next day, I came home from an outing and was immediately aware that something was wrong. As I walked to the patio doors, I froze in horror. The beautiful branch on the wonderful tree had been cut so that the little tree was shaped like a bowl, not in the artful natural flow it had created on its own. I felt its pain, and sat in tears as I realized I had not followed through with the full directive I'd been given.

    When my housemate came home, I asked her why she had cut the branch on the tree. She said it offended her idea of order, and she decided to cut it so the tree would look perfect. I was very emotional at the time and told her what I'd received. She didn't seem concerned, and thought I was being overly sensitive because I hadn't wanted the branch cut. My reaction was surprising even to me, but I knew I had done something to jeopardize the tree's health. I felt deep grief, and went out to "speak" to the spirit of the tree. I apologized and told it I would listen and act upon what I heard from that time forward. There was no answer from the tree, just a deep feeling of sadness.

    As the year progressed, the little tree began to wither. Leaves and berries that previously came forth in profusion did not appear. By the following year, it was clear that the tree was dying. I knew that somehow cutting the branch for the purpose of making it look "perfect" contributed to its death. There was nothing I could do.

    As I reflected on that tree and the message I'd been given, I saw how we as humans have the capacity to be part of a harmonious flow with nature. But when we allow our will to supercede nature's direction, we become unconscious perpetrators of destruction. We need to develop a capacity to listen as we walk into the garden. Then we can expand our awareness to a feeling level of what the garden has to communicate to us. Truly fine landscape architects know this. They walk the land they are to design. They feel the needs of the garden. Their purpose, like that of a great artist, is to liberate the essence and vibrancy within the land. By working WITH nature, a symphony of beauty is created. Through the imposition of our will alone, we lose the benefit of nature's wisdom.
From Seasons of the Soul 1999