Trump’s Assassination Attempt

I’m just going to say it plain and say it straight. The attempt on former President Trump was not such a shocker to me given the rising political discord. Without a stop-break, discord will grow. What’s the real shocker to me are the public responses I’m reading on social media. Where is the decency, where is the compassionate heart for everyone affected by last night’s events? 

I was given a very clear mirror of my own limited heart this morning when, during a call with a community of meditators, I mentioned engaging with the current news. A few people didn’t know what I was referring to, so I mentioned the injury to Trump, another person in critical condition, and the loss of one life. Another person added, like a clear mirror—“and the shooter.” I thanked him, seeing how unconsciously I had dismissed the sniper’s life. After the call, I sat with my dismissal of the one who perpetrated the violence. It was completely unconscious. Why was the sniper left out of my compassionate response? The night before, watching the unfolding events, I had felt a great sadness for the sniper, but most deeply for his family. How might it feel to have one of your own commit an act of violence, did the family feel a sense of responsibility? I can certainly relate. I’ve experienced members of my family who have actually become menacing to society and were incarcerated. I have felt great accountability. Why had I dismissed the sniper’s life? 

For me, “dismissed,” is a key action. How could I have “dismissed,” another as not worthy of my compassion?  One of my first honest questions when viewing the event was, “how many people were struck?” And then, “Who would do this?” All on stage were literally sitting ducks, how terrifying. Next, my mind went to the secret service agents, especially the young woman who continually put her full body in front of Trump’s heart, again and again, until he was in relative safety. There was a doctor on stage who immediately began tending victims. These heroes operated from a place of preserving life and negating a threat to life. 

I’ve identified three key components for myself and I’m mindfully practicing with them this week during the chaos that will certainly ensue: identify when I close down in my body, tend to myself, and open my heart.

I know what dismissal and closed off feels like in my body, I know how to breathe and recognize, breathe and open. In/out until I can engage my heart. What and who am I dismissing? Who is outside of my love and attention? Can I soften those hard lines? 

I’m committed to not having a part in promoting more discord, but in transforming the tragic events of Saturday night. May all impacted by our country’s discord be shocked awake, may we put all resistance aside and embrace the universal right for all people to be free, safe and happy. 

Fourth of July

I’m sitting in the garden on the Fourth of July, beneath an old and mighty Pine tree. Flowers have been watered, garden lettuce is wet and smiling, there’s even a little frog tucked into the crease of the patio chair cushion beside me. All is right in the Independence Day Tahoe world as I smell the grills firing up in anticipation of a community BBQ in about half an hour. I don’t anticipate finishing this vignette before the parade comes alive on my street, kiddos on tricked out bikes and dogs and people decorated in reds, whites and blues, but I wish to get a start. You see, I don’t want to be pulled away, distracted by the long weekend, disconnected from a reality that I see appearing again and again in my life—that of interdependence.

Interdependence began last week in the hospital where I work, when I happened across a precious moment in time. I had walked into the ICU to put away a piece of equipment. The ICU is in the shape  of a rectangle with nursing station in the center and sides of the rectangle, made of see-through glass walls, so each room’s occupants can be monitored at a glance. The door I  entered was directly beside a row of rooms, where within was a very frail, old man, lying supine, eyes closed. Draped over his body was an American flag, whose top corner had just left the hand of a male nurse, having finished pulling the flag across the body.

I stopped in my tracks, took in the sight as the nurse stood at bedside, head bowed and unmoving. Goosebumps covered my whole body, as I, too, dropped into the sacred moment— a gift of honor—the final act of care. No one else was in the room, no family, no other personnel just the veteran and his nurse, connected through happenstance, both living lives of service. It was deeply moving. 

As if this was not enough to demonstrate interdependence, that evening I went to a graduation where a man spoke about a veteran who had died that day. He had been the last surviving D-Day veteran in our town. I wondered—could this have been the man draped with the flag?

(I pause at this dramatic moment to stroll in the parade and eat July 4^th lunch with the neighbors!)

I’m back, once more in the writing nook, beneath the Pine, belly full, heart even fuller in celebration’s wake. I understand, honor and cherish our country’s history, the men and women who died fighting for freedom, Veterans of War covered beneath the red, white and blue and…the reality of interdependence is also alongside freedom. As if the hospital and graduation were not enough to confirm interdependence, guess who I saw at the community BBQ—the nurse who draped the flag! Yes, no lie, (my husband and the nurse are my witnesses!) Whoever is sending the messages, I get it!  

No single act, not a single one, goes without ripples. Every thought, word, action, has a reaction and the ripples go out and go out and touch lives. We are intricately connected, woven in more ways than can be imagined. Countless times throughout the day, we are given glimpses of our interdependence. Is there recognition? Is there someone with eyes to see?  I am you. You are me. My freedom is your freedom. We are profoundly connected with all things, we are interwoven. We are interdependent, a cause for celebration!
 

In the Pinewoods with Mary Oliver

It's 5:00am. I'm up early with candle lit to spend time with you and one of my favorite poets, Mary Oliver. If you've not read her before, the suggestion is to drop everything, even reading this and get yourself a copy of any book of poetry by her, favs are Twelve Moons and House of Light. She writes of her greatest love--Mama Nature, with an intimacy so real, she puts you there. Miss Oliver was said to step outside her door, gone for hours to fall inside a time warp of communion, with the trees, creatures, birds, flowers...where she gave her heart over to it and wrote of her experience. Such awareness, such mindfulness. such close attention, was her life and she takes us there, inside her perception. As I flip through House of Light, trying to determine which to share, Miss Oliver speaks...

Five A.M. in the Pinewoods  

I'd seen 
their footprints in the deep
needles and knew
they ended the long night

under the pines, walking
like two mute
and beautiful women toward
the deeper woods, so I 

got up in the dark and
went there. They came
slowly down the hill
and looked at me sitting under

the blue trees, shyly
they stepped
closer and stared
from under their thick lashes and even

nibbled some damp
tassels of weeds. This 
is not a poem about a dream, 
though it could be. 

This is a poem about the world
that is ours, or could be.
Finally
one of them--I swear it!--

would have come into my arms.
But the other
stamped sharp hoof in the
pine needles like

the tap of sanity
and they went off together through 
the trees. When I woke
I was alone. 

I was thinking:
so this is how you swim inward,
so this is how you flow outward,
so this is how you pray. 

Sweet Little Does ~ swim, flow, pray through your summer day. May you taste beauty and light, and may every good thing, lead you home, home, home to the precious life within and all around. Amen. 

Hanging with Eeyore or Desmond Tutu?

I'm feeling brave today, to address a way of being -- Reactive Positivity. The desire for this way of being came out of deep reflection on the Tedx Talk I gave in May 2021. I watched post-production following the event and was disappointed. The hope I thought I had conveyed was a smidge, barely scratching the surface.

The talk birthed a North Star within me ~ I wish, above all to be a positive and uplifting force in the face of the opioid crisis, a pandemic, stubbing my toe, whatever it may be ~ I want to react with positivity. Not fake-o, Polly-Anna stuff, but the tapped-in substance of a greater source. 

Part of my clarity came with Desmond Tutu's passing yesterday. I have always been inspired and touched by his joyful personality in the face of tremendous hardship, apartheid--it doesn't get much worse than that. The Dalai Lama, a very dear friend to Tutu, also falls into the joyful category. Even though the Dalai Lama has faced the tremendous pain of exile and the destruction of his people, he continues to exude peace, hope and love. The Dalai Lama and Tutu's capacities for positivity are strong and massive, unable to be contained, and the people feel it. Watch this video of Dalai Lama and Tutu and try not to smile--impossible!

How do we grow the capacity for unwavering, reactive positivity? Training the heart and mind seem key. We're talking-- reactive--so, rather than fear, or the past, or our habitual habits and traumas taking over--positivity takes over. That sounds subconscious to me, it sounds the stuff of consumption--what music am I listening to? What am I reading? What am I viewing? What am I speaking? Who is my company? Am I hanging out with Eeyore or Desmond Tutu? 

And...if I am with Eeyore, hello, dear Eeyore! In my practice of mindfulness, I will not turn away the donkey at my door...or get sucked in but rather, practice being a force of reactive positivity, uplifting and free. 

Like any good gardener, if I want positivity to grow, I must water and feed positivity. With water and food comes a growth in capacity and true healing. Reactive positivity is my 2022 New Year's Resolution! Who's on board with me? I want to grow lotuses in all the mud, ya'all! The giant, mammoth kind that grow 60 inches tall, pushing through all the muck. Dear Lotuses, drop me a line on Facebook or use #reactivepositivity for insights, thoughts and ideas to grow Reactive Positivity 2022! 

Malala ~ She Who Hears the Cries of the World

In the Zen tradition there's a figure called Avalokiteshvara, described as the embodiment of compassion. This being is known by other names: Kwan Yin, Mother Mary, and is said to transcend the idea of gender, race or creed. A translations of her name is, "she who hears the cries of the world." One beloved image is her sitting in water/moon pose ~  a very relaxed posture with one foot pulled up comfortably, yet ready to propel her upward for action, and the other touching the earth, grounded in solidity. The first time I heard Malala Yousafzai speak, the image on the right ~ water/moon was what I envisioned. 

Malala was 14 years old at the time of her unfortunate introduction to the world, having been shot by the Taliban in Pakistan for going to school. The world seemed to wake up overnight as we watched her struggle for life. Malala was highlighted in my Freedom Series tab in the first blog post in 2012 commending her amazing spirit: "There is this quality in me--I'm ready in all situations." 

Since then, brave and fearless Malala Yousafzai has stepped out of her relaxed childhood identity with both feet touching the earth, responding to the cries of the world, specifically to the voices of women and girls in the Middle East. 

She reported a few weeks ago, "On August 9 in Boston, I woke up at 5:00 am to go to the hospital for my latest (6th) surgery and saw the news that the Taliban had taken Kunduz, the first major city to fall in Afghanistan," she writes. "Over the next few days, with ice packs and a bandage wrapped around my head, I watched as province after province fell to men with guns, loaded with bullets like the one that shot me."

In my first blog post, Malala spoke of a quality that is ready in any circumstance. What is this quality? It is a heart of great compassion. For many years, I've studied the quality of compassion and never has it been needed like right now. All around is epic suffering: pandemic, record drug overdoses, suicides, forest fires raging 15 miles away as I type this. What is this quality that is ready? A compassionate heart turned towards suffering, meeting it head on, rather than turning away. 

A heart of great compassion resides in those who hold a posture of open-hearted awareness, refusing to be hardened--knowing that to turn towards our pain is the most direct path to freedom and liberation. It does not work, obviously, to anesthetize, isolate, and separate.

Malala's response to what she sees going on around her, grows my own capacity to respond, "Nine years later, I am still recovering from just one bullet. The people of Afghanistan have taken millions of bullets over the last four decades," Yousafzai writes. "My heart breaks for those whose names we will forget or never even know, whose cries for help will go unanswered."

Malala, you enter the stream of spiritual and blood ancestors who embrace this walk of deep listening and responding with a heart of compassion. I am renaming you, "She Who Hears The Cries Of The World." 

Will we wake up alongside you? Will we allow our hearts to soften, open, grow and be moved? 

Artist: Seol Min, Korean nun

 

“Love Your Enemies,” MLK Jr Speech For Our Time

As I watched the events at the Capitol breech unfold, I honestly was not surprised. The division in our country is completely out of control and the events reflected these conditions. Perhaps it was the timing of Martin Luther King Jr’s remembrance in the weeks that followed, but a sermon came strongly to mind entitled, “Love Your Enemies.” As I listened to the speech, I felt MLK was speaking directly to our nation, directly to our government and to each citizen’s good heart. A few quotes stood out:  

Now first let us deal with this question, which is the practical question: How do you go about loving your enemies? I think the first thing is this: In order to love your enemies, you must begin by analyzing self. 

When there is hate within us that has not cared for, it will spill out onto everyone in its path, same goes for fear, and any other strong, unchecked emotion. MLK goes on to offer two more how-to’s and the next is perhaps my favorite:

A second thing that an individual must do in seeking to love his enemy is to discover the element of good in his enemy, and every time you begin to hate that person and think of hating that person, realize that there is some good there and look at those good points which will over-balance the bad points. 

I have been saddened by the criticizing, sneering and dehumanizing of the hurt people pouring their pain out onto the streets, into businesses and now into our nation’s capitol. Are we listening? Are we trying to understand their concerns? Or shutting them down due to intolerance? 

Another way that you love your enemy is this: When the opportunity presents itself for you to defeat your enemy, that is the time which you must not do it. 

Love does not mudd-sling, love does not kick when a person is down. MLK orates to perfection, building and infusing his words with moral integrity. In closing, he implores:

Somewhere somebody must have some sense. Men must see that force begets force, hate begets hate, toughness begets toughness. And it is all a descending spiral, ultimately ending in destruction for all and everybody. Somebody must have sense enough and morality enough to cut off the chain of hate and the chain of evil in the universe. And you do that by love.

On this day, dedicated to a heroic and beautiful man, please enjoy Martin Luther King, Jr.’s words and allow them to penetrate into your being, into your response and fortitude. His is the greatest call ~ to love one’s enemy in this time of division as we prepare for inauguration and changing of the guard.    

 

Mothers of Unrest

The following was written after hearing the goose-bump speech of Julia Jackson, in response to her son being shot by police in Kenosha, WI. Her speech was not sad, it was not hopeless, but rather the exact opposite. At the end of the poem is a link to view the powerful speech. As we move into September and the theme, “Community in the Eye of the Storm,” Julia Jackson is a North Star to watch, listen and soak in:

Mothers of Unrest

©2020 Karla Johnston, InnerConstellation.com

September 1, 2020

A storm brews more powerful than a hurricane,

people whipped up, circling, caught in the maelstrom.

Young men

shot by police,

call into question

excessive use of force.

 

Eyes rest upon the scene,

seeing black men, young sons, neighborhoods echoing the shots

amidst mothers, calling for peace.

 

“Clearly, you can see by now

That I have beautiful brown skin,

But take a look at your hand

And whatever shade it is, it is beautiful as well.

How dare we hate what we are.

We are humans.

God did not make one type of tree

or flower, or fish, or horse, or grass, or rock. 

How dare you ask him to make one type of human

that looks just like you.

I’m not talking to just Caucasian people. 

I am talking to everyone:

White, black, Japanese, Chinese, red, brown,

No one is superior to the other….

We are the United States.

Have we been united?

Do you understand what’s going to happen when we fall?

Because a house that is against each other can not stand. 

 

“Citizens, police officers, firemen, clergy, politicians: 

Do Jacob justice on this level and examine your hearts. 

We need healing. 

As I pray for my son’s healing—physically, emotionally and spiritually—

I also have been praying even before this for the healing of our country.

Everybody, let’s use our hearts, our love,

and our intelligence to work together

to show the rest of the world how humans are supposed to treat each other. 

America is great when we behave greatly.”

 

Julia Jackson, Eye of the Storm,

Holy Mother,

walk, stand, show 

in this suffrage,

True North.

 

 

Video of Julia Jackson’s speech

Good Trouble RIP John Lewis

Precious, conscience-of-the-nation, John Lewis, has died and since hearing the news of his passing this weekend, I have walked, sung and watched two thunderstorms build in the clouds and unleash their blessings, while touching the hero nature of this man.

I remember some years ago hearing an interview John Lewis gave to Krista Tippett that permanently changed my world. He spoke directly to my soul, expanding my sense of engaging other beings with dignity—especially those who disagreed with you— and by doing so, the beloved community grows.

John Lewis internalized a loving heart during the civil rights movement, even as he was mocked, tear-gassed, trampled by horses, beaten to an inch of his life and jailed. During a time when it was only natural to close down for self preservation, he did the opposite, he opened. He claims that he felt no bitterness, no animosity toward his persecutors. His life in every way shows dedication to peace and love as ultimate North Stars.

He has said, “Non-violence is not the absence of violence but the presence of justice, presence of bringing the dirt and the filth out into the light so we can deal with it.” During the non-violent campaign, participants were trained to look into the eyes of the ones who disagreed with you, address them as holy and sacred. He stressed that we must be taught to love and to see the spark of divinity in every fellow human being, and that we don’t have the right to extinguish the sacred spark. We are often taught to hate, to abuse and so we must appeal to the goodness in every human being and never give up, never give up on anyone. This way of engaging is conflict resolution for holy beings, those who have their sights and their feet in the Eternal Dimension, in the land of freedom.

One of his most recent quotes of 2018 is a Tweeted-torch, a lamp for this time we find ourselves:

"Do not get lost in a sea of despair. Be hopeful, be optimistic. Our struggle is not the struggle of a day, a week, a month, or a year, it is the struggle of a lifetime. Never, ever be afraid to make some noise and get in good trouble, necessary trouble."

He speaks of being pulled into The Spirit of History and that we have a moral obligation, a mandate to engage suffering, to recognize what is harmful and cast light on it. But, here’s the mandate: engage with love, peace and strong faith in the goodness of humanity. John Lewis taught that our civility demonstrates the absurdity of the other side.

"Freedom is not a state; it is an act. It is not some enchanted garden perched high on a distant plateau where we can finally sit down and rest. Freedom is the continuous action we all must take, and each generation must do its part to create an even more fair, more just society.”

John Lewis, Rest In Peace, knowing you have made a mark on history that is incomprehensibly good. As your divine spark shines inside future generations, may we nourish its light and tend it like a beacon.

She Is Nectar

I recently discovered a Noble Peace Prize winner ~ the amazing Nadia Murad. After hearing her moving story, I found her to be a beacon of light, unable to turn away from the suffering of her people, the Yazidis, who experienced genocide at the hands of the Islamic State. After experiencing first hand the loss of her mother, six brothers and her brother’s children, she was forced into sex trafficking. Nadia’s spirit, rather than being broken, became increasingly brighter, shining light and awareness on the atrocities of war.

It’s fascinating to watch one of her first interviews in 2014 where a veiled and frightened. Nadia asked the cameras to avoid her face and not use her last name. Since then, she has grown increasingly brave, no longer covering her face and transforming her sufferings into medicine to offer to others who have experienced similar circumstances. Nadia Murad has literally and fuguratively shed the veil and speaks out, refusing to be silenced—an unheard of response from a woman of her culture and background. Her request is twofold:

• International protection for her people, the Yazidis 
• That those responsible for crimes of war be brought to justice

Nadia embodies the North Star qualities of courage, resilience, devotion to her people and a pure-heart. I’m delighted to honor her today in the Freedom Series category of this blog. Here are some Nadia Murad resources to water our seeds of bravery and interconnection: 

Nadia Murad’s Nobel Peace Prize acceptance speech

Nadia’s book: The Last Girl 

Storm Chaser Benjamin Franklin

Our IC theme for June is Nature as Medicine. Interestingly, I stumbled across a little tidbit of history related to dear Momma Nature ~ today in history (1752) Ben Franklin climbed to the top of a church steeple during a thunderstorm and let lose a kite on which was tied a metal key. He hoped that the key would act as a conduit and harness the power of lightning which he suspected was electricity. He was motivated by the desire to decrease the devastation he saw to neighbor and property when lightning struck.

Benjamin Franklin was reported to have chased storms on horseback. He was obsessed, some say, with the potential raw power inside thunder clouds. He lived in a time when candles were used for light and thus invented day-light savings time, calculating the many tons of wax preserved by the simple habit of, “early to bed, early to rise.”

When his kite experiment proved successful (his son bore witness), he constructed the lightning rod which did indeed attract and empty all harmful power into the earth rather than structures and human beings. Ben Franklin was thought of as a magician, able to control and eventually use, what were viewed as supernatural and godly forces. Can you imagine his bravery? That’s some powerful medicine!!!!

Ben Franklin is going into the Freedom Series category of our IC blog. Today, let’s contemplate and honor his unique relationship with the energy of our earth and his ability to literally harness it for the good of many. Earth bodhisatvha Ben Franklin, we bow to you!

Muhammad Najem, 15 Year Old Photojournalist

Muhammad Najem 15 yo photojournalist from Eastern Ghouta, compliments of Missy Morton

Crossing to the Other Shore
©2018 Karla Johnston, InnerConstellation.com

When I push off and place both feet in the boat,
I am received immediately by calm, dark sea.
I turn, look back at land boundaries, previously defined:
hard edges where I’ve come from dissolve
as clear water softens shore.

Moon hangs full, brilliant, peaceful in an open sky.
Sometimes, all freedom takes is the willingness
to no longer stay on demarcated ground.

(Poem written in response to bombings in Eastern Ghouta and the photo journalism of a 15 yearold boy who hopes for a brighter tomorrow)

Martin Luther King ~ North Star of Equality Shines Bright

It's been a long time since writing in the "Freedom Series" category of this blog, and I know--I've highlighted MLK before but by far he's one of my favorites, so I'm extolling his praises again! I'm presently reading his book: Where Do We Go From Here: Chaos or Community and this story struck me as clearly defining a major driving force in MLK's life, his aspiration or in Inner Constellation language~his North Star:

...a group of us packed into four automobiles and made our way to that desolate spot on Hwy 51 where James Meredith had been shot the day before. So began the second stage of the Meredith Mississippi Freedom March. As we walked down the meandering highway in the sweltering heat, there was much talk and many questions were raised. 

"I'm not for that  nonviolence stuff any more," shouted one of the younger activists.

"If one of these damn white Mississippi crackers touches me, I'm gonna knock the hell out of him," shouted another.

Later on a discussion of the composition of the march came up.

"This should be an all-black march," said one marcher. "We don't need any more white phonies and liberals invading our movement. This is our march."

Once during the afternoon we stopped to sing, "We Shall Overcome." The voices rang out with all the traditional fervor, the glad thunder and gentle strength that had always characterized the singing of this noble song. But when we came to the stanza which speaks of "black and white together," the voices of a few of the marchers were muted. I asked them later why they refused to sing that verse. The retort was:

"This is a new day, we don't sing those words any more. In fact, the whole song should be discarded. Not 'We Shall Overcome,' but 'We Shall Overrun.'"

As I listened to all these comments, the words fell on my ears like strange music from a foreign land. My hearing was not attuned to the sound of such bitterness. I guess I should not have been surprised....I should have been reminded that disappointment produces despair and despair produces bitterness, and that the one thing certain about bitterness is its blindness. Bitterness has not the capacity to make the distinction between some and all." *

Equality shines bright in our hero Martin Luther King, Jr. May we, as his continuation, strive toward a freedom that sees not gender, race, sexual preference, financial status, class, political party or any other contrived divisions but rather practices this sole desire ~ for all beings everywhere to live unmolested and in peace.

Happy MLK day everyone. 


   * Where Do We Go From Here: Chaos or Community? on sale for $7.68 (Amazon) consider adding this classic to your North Star library

Magic

Here in the Sierras leaves are turning brilliant colors and the air has turned crisp with shadows creeping long in the softening light of fall. It's one of my favorite times of year and I find myself captivated by the seasonal process of degeneration in preparation for rest. Magic as a theme seems natural and was precipitated by an early morning run along the river by my home the first day of September. Temperatures were invigorating as I rounded a bend to nearly bump into a white crane. He stood perfectly still about 20 feet from me in the golden grass and didn't move, so I didn't either, and we just regarded one another for a few brief seconds before he took flight. My active mind began thinking of reasons why he hadn't been scared off--perhaps he was deaf, or blind, or both, or....perhaps I had run into a magical moment.

A few days later I read an article on an amazing millionaire who, along with his wife and teenage daughter, rescues refugees out of the sea. In August 2014 at the age of 33, Christopher Catrambone dedicated half his savings to establishing Migrant Offshore Aid Station (MOAS). Red Cross recently partnered with him because he has one of the lowest casualty rates. A reporter had recently accompanied MOAS on a rescue of Tunisian refugees and witnessed the following:

"Back on the Phoenix, one girl, her trousers covered in vomit, collapsed as soon as she got on board. Mostly there was quiet relief as energy snacks, water bottles, blue towels, woollen socks and thin white, wind-blocking protective overalls were handed out. After a few minutes of stunned silence the small children, miraculously, began playing." 

After such a harrowing ordeal, the children began playing. Magic--our internal innate ability to turn toward life and survive and thrive. We have this same desire for others. I reflected this morning on the power of two North Stars--loving-kindness and compassion. Often when I introduce these to folks they'll ask, what's the difference? To me, loving-kindness is doing good for others simply to do good, uninitiated and perhaps this can be associated with friendliness or wishing well and doing our part to be kind to living beings in all circumstances. Compassion on the same hand :) is the capacity to recognize suffering and do what we can to alleviate that suffering, Mr. Christopher Catrambone and his family are prime examples of compassion in action. The incentive of loving-kindness and compassion seem to be the vision of a common good. When we practice loving-kindness and compassion we become forces that lift hearts and minds (ours included) to new heights. As enchanting September days set stage for glorious Fall, I look forward to magical moments with you. Send me your insights, I would love to hear them.

Blue Pill, Red Pill?

I recently finished the novel, "Night," by Elie Wiesel. Anyone who has read this slim holocaust memoir knows it was not easy. The reading was precipitated by a personal commemoration of the author, for Elie recently died at the ripe age of 87 years. Also, my momma, who knows my heart well, gave me the book. It had sat on my book shelf for years until I was most recently ready to read it.

Now, before you go thinking this is a kill-joy blog article, no-sir-eeeee. Remember IC Truth #3: everything no matter how challenging has the ability to be transformed. Elie Wiesel is a shining North Star example of this certainty. The day I finished the book, I dedicated my morning to sitting with what I had learned. I did this in my garden of course, and as I sat by my pond, in addition to holding Elie Wiesel's story close, I noticed the hummingbirds came around, as did the nuthatches, chickadees and all other kinds of joyful critters. I smiled, and pondered these competing realities--the destruction of a race of people juxtaposed with all the beauty of this natural world. Both exist--one heart-breaking, the other heart-sustaining--such interplay is constantly present. How to reconcile these realities?

I recalled this month's Inner Constellation theme--Co-creation--and grabbed my notebook as a poem took root...

Ground to Soften
©August 4, 2016 Karla Johnston InnerConstellation.com

The novel, “Night,” by Elie Weisel—
I’m reminded my every thought of impatience, anger, intolerance,
waters the larger seed of cruelty growing in the world today.
Annihilation of Jews (and anyone not conforming to radical Islam) is happening this moment.
Tears escape the corner of my eyes, seeking ground to soften.

The other side of human possibility: tenderness, joy, understanding
water seeds of freedom,
which, in the choice to cultivate, loosen cruelty’s strangle hold.
Do I wish to be grounded in the killing field
or tend the garden of humanity with compassion and mercy?

Germination starts within,
it grows within. 


How do I reconcile competing realities? My answer--germination starts within, it grows within. More questions follow--Am I more able to Co-create and practice goodness and generosity because I live healthy, happy, strong and free? Do I have a responsibility to do so, due to my good measure? 

As this month of August stretches toward the end, I continue to answer my heart questions. Relying on Lake Tahoe Mindfulness Community and my support network of family and friends, I know answers will come and Co-creation will be the result: germination starts within, it grows within. 

Bless you, wise Elie Wiesel, for your continuation of insight, compassion and hope. 

Tender Vesak Day!!!

Last evening's beautiful full moon marked the celebration of  the Buddha: the cycle of his birth, enlightenment, passing and continuation.

Light plays a dominant role in the Vesak celebration festivities as a reminder of our own Buddha Nature--the seed of goodness within that if watered, grows throughout our lives and influences those around us.

This day's blessing is inspired by the light inside every living being:

Vesak
©Karla Johnston, InnerConstellation.com 

Seed of awakening
planted within,
Moon kissed.
Will you water it?

The importance of self care so we can care for others seems to perfectly encapsulate our May Inner Constellation theme of "tenderness." I've heard many laments this month about how difficult it can be to be tender towards ourselves. Tenderness is a daily practice--a commitment to mindfully attend to one's "Inner Constellation," take care of our sufferings and cultivate peace and understanding within. Mindfulness of one's body, mind, emotions and mental state is a vital part of the Buddha's teachings. When we are clear and without interferences, we are more fully present for our loved ones and our community. Mindfulness, gentle attending, practice, more mindfulness...thank you Buddha for your wisdom....

May you have a happy, full-moon, lighted up day with much love and care on this tender Vesak weekend!

Purple Rain on Earth Day

"Purple rain, purple rain....I only want to see you underneath the purple rain."

I heard the news yesterday afternoon with nostalgia--remembering his amazing vocal range, Prince was at times unbelievable to me, magic. He is an amazing example of someone who broke stereotypes and refused labels and in the process gave his audience an intimate performance of music. His lyrics are so poetic, my heart was won at an early age.

Yesterday, I went on with my day and in the evening, I noticed I had a heavy-heart, very unlike me, and as I did my evening chores, I couldn't quite put my finger on it; then one of my Tahoe moms sent a text:

"Are you sad that Prince died?"

Yes, yes indeed I am.  I hummed Purple Rain most of the day and realized we lost a holy one who knew he was in his element when he was singing--he exuded that in his voice, in his flowy actions, in his impact. When we are in our groove, Momma Earth sends that vibration out to the four corners and beyond--we strike chords within the hearts of many and that precious gift lives beyond form.

Honey, I know, I know I know times are changing
It's time we all reach out for something new,  that means you too...                                 let me guide you to the purple rain 

RIP, sweet Prince.

(Re)Birth of O Mio Babbino Caro

Watch Amira's performance: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZWpLfncliwU 

Happy Spring, Beautifuls! April's Inner Constellation theme is "birth." One of the most prominent appearances of new beginnings is the introduction to Amira Willighagen from Holland. She is this month's inspirational figure for the IC Freedom Series category of this blog--a person who has the influence to orient others in the direction of True North. Words can't do justice in describing this amazing young person...so without further ado, please sit back and enjoy a treat....

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZWpLfncliwU

Teaching oneself to sing opera via YouTube, really? Have you ever attempted to sing opera? Perhaps you can sing beautifully too! Without any preconceived notion of failure, Amira, age 6 at the time, begins...and listen to what is born--a voice "so pure and so beautiful," as remarked by one of those who truly heard. Amira is a poster child for turning toward what inspires, what is wholesome and beautiful and allowing whatever it is to move through you and become a vehicle of expression--perhaps this is one definition of birth. Her talent is not hers alone, however (thanks to YouTube (!), grandma Elsa who listened and encouraged, her parents, violinist brother who inspired her, Holland's Got Talent, the Golden Ticket). The interbeing nature of all the bright North Stars who influenced Amira's young life are many.  

In the month of April, what will you encourage to move through you? Spring time holds the energy of the earth as it is reborn--growth is unstoppable as it moves up and out, gifting us with its expression in the form of green grass, flowers, newborns and the voice of an angel....

Here's a link to Amira Willighagen's Album on YouTube if more infusion is needed:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RFDE5hDtTo&list=PL4dWT5w6l2Q2RI7bcS1LhPgvipYglXlhh

May you have a blessed spring, inspired by beauty, peace and happiness.

Hafiz, Beloved Friend

A few weeks ago, I discovered the Persian poet, Hafiz, who lived during the 1300's, about 100 years after Rumi. A collection of poems, "The Gift," sat on my shelf close to a year until I finally cracked it open, shortly after the Fall Mindfulness Retreat. As I read, I smile, remembering our retreat theme of "befriend" and how this new companion, Hafiz, has made his way to me. The above poem seems to sum up the Inner Constellation ideal and the practice of mindful living:

I am
A hole in a flute
That the Christ's breath moves through--

I am an animation of the divine: a living, breathing, pulsing life force.

...Listen to this 
Music.

Listening to how life becomes alive in us is the practice of mindful living--attending, paying attention--When I interact with my world, is my breath tight, restricted, even or flowing? Do I have resistance to what presents or am I free? Is holy breath animating me or have I plugged up the flute holes?

I appreciate the metaphor of "A hole in a flute," implying more than one hole and more than one flute. It describes perfectly the interbeing nature of us, our connection to others and the fact that I am one expression of many. My experience of "God" will differ from another's experience of "God"--many flutes, many flute holes, animating us.

Listen to this music...honor ourselves, honor one another, pay attention, listen deeply and appreciate the beautiful expressions we encounter. Today, Hafiz's remembrance will serve as my mantra, a sweet gatha to guide my practice and interactions with others. I am, you are, Holy beings; Listen, listen, to the music.

Miracle of Nando Parrado

A few days ago I had the good fortune to hear Nando Parrado speak under the stars in the Sand Harbor amphitheater. As soon as I heard his first words, I knew it would be an unforgettable night...."Before we begin, take a moment and look up at the stars overhead, take in the beauty of the water and the family and friends who may have accompanied you...." He then spun a tale that was almost unbelievable had he not lived to tell.

Nando was one of fifteen rugby players who survived the 1972 airplane crash in the Andes Mountains. He survived for 72 days--an avalanche, severe dehydration, hunger and cold, the death of his mother, sister and teammates--his life is an incredible story of endurance and human survival against all odds. Amazingly, before the crash, he and his team mates had never before seen snow! After a desperate ten day trek, Nando and fellow team mate Roberto Canessa found a farmer who then alerted authorities and the group was saved.

What impressed me the most was two-fold. First was the intimate way he spoke of breath--how it became sacred: when holding his dying sister through the night, as a way to monitor and be with the injured and dying, breath as the only heat source to stay alive through the night by lying face-to-face with a team mate and breathing into each other's cold body parts. Breath became the indicator that he was alive:

Breathe. Breathe again. With every breath, you are alive. After all these years, this is still the best advice I can give you: Savor your existence. Live every moment. Do not waste a breath.

He spoke deeply about the love of family and friends and how this love sustained him. He continually thought of his father and how after the loss of his mother and sister, Nando wished to see him again and be a source of comfort. He spoke of his teammates, how they worked not only for individual survival but for the whole, the pact they made that in the event of death their bodies be consumed as nourishment for the survival of their teammates, and the precious gift of life given in this way. North Stars abounded, keeping him focused during his ordeal: love, personal sacrifice for care of the whole, team work, breath....

Second, what impacted me was the last half hour of the show, when people in the audience introduced themselves. They were from all over the U.S.A. and the world, having come to hear Nando speak because their lives were changed when reading the book/seeing the movie, Alive. One adult, to whom the night was dedicated had survived being hit by a drunk driver in elementary school and was paralyzed from the waist down. After struggling to adapt to the wheelchair on ice and snow conditions, this young person no longer wanted to survive and voiced as much to a teacher, who then gave her student the book, Alive. It proved to be a pivotal moment in the choice for life. There was a person who had survived as a driver in a fatal car crash, where the spouse and child had died. The entire night and the stories of transformation were a blessing to witness. If you wish to be inspired, connect with powerful North Stars and be deeply moved, check out Nando Parrado and the resources below:

Tedtalk
Website
Nando's book Miracle in the Andes

Nando Parrado is a Freedom Series Star for the Inner Constellation Blog--a true embodiment of the truth that we are expressions of the Eternal, and the IC Truth that everything, no matter how challenging can be transformed. Bless each of you today and the holy breath that animates life.

Retirement!!!

My mother retired just moments ago, officially at 3:30pm East Coast time.This poem honors her and the light she shines on so many people, most recently, young ones who receive the beautiful works of her hands--the fruits of which she plans to multiply, now that she's retired! A Friday poetry tribute to beautiful Momma:

Stained Glass
©Karla Johnston, InnerConstellation.com

“How do you like my new dress line?”
my mom texts
with a picture of tiny dresses sewn
for children in Mexico, Africa and India.
Bright splashes of material
remind me of something I cannot place.

At mid-day I do something I haven’t done in years—
walk into a local church for a peace break.
Windows of cobalt blue, royal purple,
sunshine yellow and evergreen reflect and mingle,
stream across oaken pews.

I enter glory’s center,
bow my head
and bring to mind 
a mother’s gifts.