Are You Living By Remote Control?

I keep remembering your voice. Subdued? Down? Depressed?

I know that voice, as it has been part of my life at different times. I can still hear it in my head at times, though I have made it my Practice to not give it any power, or believe it is Real.

In India, I learned the difference between happiness and joy.

For many years in the early 2000s, I had a low grade depression going all the time. I couldn't identify why I felt this way, though I had lots of theories about who to blame and what needed to be different.

Some friends insisted I go with them to a Paula White revival, a giant event held in Tampa at a sports stadium. Do you know Paula White? She is perhaps 40, and had a life of HELL (on all levels) before she was born again. She specializes in pumping people up, injecting them with Jesus, getting them out of their Blue Funks.

But as I stood there, listening to some great black gospel music and swaying with the crowd, I knew my depression was still with me. Even Paula White couldn't shake me out of it.

Studying with some of the living masters in India (I concept we don't have in the West, that is, people who are considered Divine contemporaries. We think of Jesus as the only one in our culture, and he is long gone) I learned a giant principle. This principal echoed a teaching I learned while studying Sivananda Yoga: I AM BLISS, BLISS I AM. What I learned is that the true nature of human being is JOY. The best evidence I have of this truth is babies. See how naturally joyous they are? Remember what you would do to get your babies to smile or giggle? How did you know you would be able to get them to respond with JOY? Because, that was their being, that was what was inside them. The nature of human being is Pure Abundant Joy.

What happens is that all of the stuff that is happening around us, from day to day, begins to dull us, fatigue us, wear us down. We begin to identify with what is going on Out There, rather than In Here. We let the nasty opinions, rude behavior and unfairnesses of others begin to define how we feel. We surrender our power, we give away our peace, and become remote controlled by external factors. You know all of these factors in your life.

"So now what?" you ask.

Just wake up to this awareness, and life shifts in an Extraordinary Way.

You remember you are Bliss Absolute, and just like the babies, you have JOY at your center.

This Joy is not the same as the happiness that can come from a good cup of coffee, crispy potato chips or a new outfit. That stuff is just the manmade highs that we seek to distract ourselves from the pain of remote control living.

Can you see the difference between Joy and Happiness?

JOY is who you are. There is no more need to seek it or yearn for it. All you have to do is acknowledge it and allow it to bubble up...it sits, waiting, deep within you. Remember, the Buddha taught us that, "Neither praise nor blame shall move me," as that is allowing the remote control living.

I pray this little lesson brings you immediate HOPE.

I love you!

Our Holiday Week

Like most Americans, we found ourselves sitting around a table for a giant feast today, giving thanks for our life of blessings.


Not only do we have a new home, but our new neighbors couldn't be kinder or more generous. Larry and Sandy fed us like royalty, then sent us home with enough leftovers to get us through the weekend.

We continue to work away on our new home. Before the Thanksgiving meal at 2 p.m., Thurmond finished putting the new towel racks, toilet seat and medicine cabinet in the front bedroom. I made rolls and took a nap out in the sunlight, at poolside. And we had our fair share of phone calls with friends and family, reminding us that our relationships are the greatest treasures we possess.

A few shots from our album...

Lapdog with Laptop

Our Cindygirl is enjoying her Southern lifestyle.

I caught her emailing girlfriends back in Vermont, sitting at my laptop.

Her message is mine, too. We send our love and prayers to all family and friends this holiday week. To our friends outside the US who don't celebrate Thanksgiving, we earnestly pray you have plenty of good food and are living in a safe place with people who love you.

Wednesday is also our 19th wedding anniversary. When Rev. Asa Sprague performed our wedding November 25, 1990, in Montpelier, Vermont, Thurmond and I could never have imagined we would be celebrating in Florida in 2009. One of life's many blessings.

What a difference a week makes!

We woke to another blue sky and continue to feel like we need to pinch ourselves, asking, "Is this real?"

While the work of settling into our Florida home has been exhausting (every surface has to be washed!) we sense that, "this is the right place and the right time for our lives."

Friday, when we went to the Salvation Army to buy some furniture, the sign said, "25 percent off furniture today." See what I mean?

When paying for some lovely oil paintings at the Hospice Thrift Shop, the cashier said, "Of course, pictures are 20 percent off today." Of course. Today, we'll hang some of these landscapes, painted by an artist we need to learn about named Ruth Stump. Vertical blinds for windows are on order.

I got myself this enormously comfortable and colorful chair and ottoman, which we call The Peacock Throne. I accept the title and the duties herein....

Thurmond is liking his equally huge couch, he is tucked under a little lap robe now, taking a morning nap. We found a companion easy chair of the same style to round out the room. Still waiting for our TV to arrive, but the cable is in, which is how I can write you today.

We've had no time for watching television anyway; I joke it won't arrive until all the ceilings and walls are washed, and we have one more room to go.

In another hour, we go to the community hall for coffee and donuts, a weekly get together. We are giving ourselves a break and heading over, before returning to more washing, painting, organizing. To think, a week ago at this moment, we were on the New York Northway, heading south.

We are singing heartfelt prayers of gratitude and thanksgiving. Oh, one more thing. Our neighbor Larry, a retired cook to an Army general, has invited us for Thanksgiving. See what I mean?

Living in Love; How I Work for Peace

The mini war in Fort Hood is no different than the bloody skirmishes over the past hundreds of years on dark Belfast street corners. This week's senseless killing in Texas is just like the random acts of violence in Indian marketplaces and tech parks, where bombs take the lives of innocents. Wherever, whenever we hear of such shootings, our hearts ache over the insanity of it all...the families ripped apart, the holes torn in the lives of mothers, wives, children, husbands, fathers.

Hearing of this latest carnage, I again ask, "What can I do?"

After tears and prayer and silent sadness, I find comfort and direction in the same answer that has propelled me forward for many years:

I must live in love, be the presence of kindness wherever I am. We need to resist the urge to argue ourselves into separate polar positions. What value can come from our black and white views....keeping us from finding common ground and peaceful compromises?

Last Wednesday, we held a formal dance at the little health care facility I work in; an evening of live music and dancing. Three local businesses donated fancy gowns and suits for anyone who wanted to get dressed up. We had a ball!

My dear husband Thurmond wore his tuxedo and danced with the ladies, including me. We all had a great time, and offered up our evening of happiness as a small gesture to help tip the world back in balance. Making peace seems more important than ever, doesn't it?

Following the Sun, Again

We woke into November this morning; the thermometer reads 42 F, the clock had to be set back an hour, as we obey the rules of daylight savings time. Our trees are all leafless, and the gold needles of the tamarack coat the pond.

Like geese, we are preparing to leave northern Vermont for the season.

Yesterday, I made the last trip into town to leave our indoor plants for the winter in safe, warm places. Last week, Thurmond transferred about a dozen aloes, spider plants and cacti to Matt and Annica, a lovely young couple who just bought their first home. Our home will be cold and lifeless, as we have chosen Florida for a season. I left our eight foot Norfolk Island Pine Tree at the Barton Public Library (how did this tree get to live my fantasy?) the Christmas cactus, feathery fern and blooming pink vine have spread out in our local banker's big office with the giant window.

When I started leaving for Florida or India each December, our 25 year old cactus began blooming at Thanksgiving, so I could still enjoy her show. This year, she became a Halloween cactus, in full bloom when I deposited her at the bank; how did she know we would be on the road November 14?

Sadness flowed through me as I moved the plants. Not because I am worried about how they will survive the winter or even how I will live without them creating the indoor environment. The sadness was about what the Buddha taught us, about creating our own suffering through attachment. My possession of beauty was now making me sad, because I no longer possess it.

Does this mean our very pursuit of beauty and happiness leads us, inevitably, back to where we started, yearning for beauty and happiness?

I think so. And I think the only way out of this "chasing one's own tail" is to love and appreciate the moment we are in, fully and completely, without any expectations about ongoing ownership or relationship. Now is where it's at.

And soon, our Now will be at Orangewood Lakes, where more trees and plants will bring us beauty and breath. That's what is so wonderful about the Present, we are always provided for.