Nobility

When a man has pity on all living creatures, then only is he noble. -Gautama Buddha

I saw a man on the freeway putting himself at risk to save a runaway dog. Occasionally, I see a lady in my local park feeding the ducks. When I'm at the airport I occasionally observe a blind person being helped by a guide dog. Love, concern, and trust are all aspects of Say Yes to Your Spirit. And none of this is complicated. The above stories that include animals are all everyday experiences. None of them are complicated theory. Rather they represent feelings. They are an emotional response to life. Nobility is demonstrating love as a response to the many happenings in our life. It is the love dance. - Leo Booth

Today I am able to appreciate the creatures who share our planet.

On this day of your life

I believe God wants you to know ...

... that you are loved on this day for all the wonder
that you bring to your world with the gift of being you.

Hard to believe, isn't it, that you are that special in the

eyes of God? Yet you are--and not because of what

you have done, but because of who you are. You are

God's own creation, an expression of Divinity

in human form.

The fastest way to experience this is to be the vehicle

through which others see it in themselves. Each person

is walking his or her path and doing his or her best. God

knows this and that is why God loves you all.

Soul Seeing (OM)

by Madisyn Taylor The soul is the purest expression of an individual and is not bound by physical forms or fleeting emotions. When we want to see deeply into the heart and mind of another person, soul seeing, also called soul gazing, allows us to see their soul. The soul is the purest expression of an individual and is not bound by physical forms or fleeting emotions. Through a simple art that involves looking deeply into a partner's eyes, soul seeing can show you a person's inner beauty that you might otherwise miss. It is possible for someone who appears cold to have a warm, giving, nurturing soul or someone of average appearance to have a beautiful soul. Soul seeing is a way of looking past shapes, sizes, attitudes, and behavior to see the real individual that lies beneath the surface. It allows you to see the true essence of another person, the radiance of their being, and their spirit within. Soul seeing is accomplished by sitting face to face with another person. It is helpful to first state your intention before you begin. As you stare softly into each other's eyes without stopping to look away, each of your souls is revealed to the other. Try not to look for anything in particular or seek traits you're hoping to find. Simply let the other person's soul reveal itself to you. After twenty minutes have passed, stay where you are and share a period of silent reflection with your partner for two minutes. You may have suddenly seen your partner's inner nature as clearly as a bright day, or you may need to meditate on your experience before you feel comfortable with your impressions. Either way, soul seeing can be a wonderfully intimate and shared experience. So little of who each of us is can be captured by our appearance or personality. The thoughts, fears, desires, and longings that are part of what makes us whole are not always written across our faces. Often, the most surprising thing you may learn while soul seeing is that while you and the other person may appear on the surface to be quite different, you actually share many of the same inner qualities. And then there is the unique beauty that resides within that is longing to be revealed to another who is willing to see. Soul seeing can help you experience the people in your life as they truly are, beyond any mental barriers or physical limitations.

The Art of Letting Go: On Grief & Gratitude.

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Erica Leibrandt80 Followers

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“The key to being able to let go of all the stuff you’re holding on to is knowing that you’ll be okay if you don’t have it.

And that’s the truth. You can survive with very little. And though the passing of people and things can be painful, you will survive.” ~ John C. Parkin, F**k It: The Ultimate Spiritual Way

Life, human life anyway, can be said to be an endless, hapless attempt to cling to that which will inevitably slip away. I’m certain I began my own formal crusade to cling to things I had no control over in the very earliest days of pre-consciousness. Though I don’t remember doing so, it’s a safe bet based on my personality that I battled ferociously to stay inside my mother’s womb. I just don’t like change.

An incomplete list of things I have lost:

>> The key to the dollhouse my dad made me when I was six. It was tiny and actually worked the lock on the equally tiny door. The house looked exactly like my real-life house.
>> The real life house the doll house resembled. We left it when I was eight, and though we briefly returned, I would never feel like I was home again.
>> Seven dogs. All beloved.
>> A 17-jewel family heirloom watch my aunt gave me for college graduation that disappeared somewhere in New York.
>> Five (adult) teeth.
>> Sleep, as an adjunct of motherhood.
>> My 16-year-old son.
>> The belief that anything is in my control (see above).

I clung to all of the above in varying degrees, but in each case with the conviction that I “deserved” to have whatever thing I had lost or was losing. Such entitlement. I don’t entirely blame myself (if I did, I would be in a lifetime in-patient program strapped to a gurney and medicated with horse tranquilizers) as there are the additional factors of human nature, maturity, and culture to be considered. But I own a lot of it, and have come to see that—as Buddhists teach—attachment is suffering.

I don’t talk, or even think, about this much anymore, but there was a time when I lost nearly every material thing. My first dysfunctional marriage put me in the unenviable position of homelessness. We didn’t get evicted from just one apartment, but from two, and the second time we were kicked out unceremoniously by a sheriff with unreasonably bright red hair, it finally hit me: I had nothing. (Of course, this too was an illusion.)

As we walked (limped) down 47th Street in the baking hot July sun, strung out, starving and filthy (we’d been too f*cked up to shower or eat for several days) it felt as if we been booted right off the edge of the world. While everyone else was strolling along going about their day thinking about—I imagined—soft beds, regular jobs, and spouses you could bring home to Thanksgiving without shame, we had maybe two dollars total and the few inches of pavement in front of us where our next step would land.

And yet, we carried on. Stripped down to the bare essentials, sleeping on the hard dirt of Tompkins Square Park, the endless sky shaking overhead day and night like a fist, we lived. I remember marveling then at how little one needed to actually stay alive. I began to feel gratitude for things I’d taken for granted all my life. When a fellow homeless woman offered to share her half-eaten fried rice with me in Penn Station I nearly wept with joy.

Of course, I promptly forgot about real, abiding gratitude once I got comfortable again. But I had known it for a moment, and I stuck it down deep somewhere in my bones.

Learning and un-learning. Remembering and forgetting. So the wheel turns.

I was stripped down in a much different way when my son took his life. In the space of a mere few minutes not only he, but my entire family were swept off into an alien dimension. It took a lot longer to start feeling gratitude then. I tried firmly to remain in a state of denial, even getting excited about his wake because I thought it was a nice chance to see him again. I really believed, right up until the moment I saw him in the casket, that he and I would just kind of be hanging out at the funeral home together. Bizarre. Despite being forced to let things go, we can still cling to them.

I realize now, that for me at least, grief begets gratitude. In other words, losing things makes the things that remain, or that are recovered, or discovered, so much more vivid. But if we don’t do the grieving first, the gratitude may never come. That is the art of letting go. We work so hard to avoid grief. Of course we do! It’s scary to think about who we will be now that whatever thing has come and gone. But allowing ourselves to fully feel and process the painful reality of loss, and to eventually accept it, is the only way we will experience some measure of peace.

The truth is, whether we let it be or fight it tooth and claw, everything is both coming and going. We ourselves, on a cellular level, will only be as we are in this moment one time.

Already, in the act of typing this sentence, I have changed. It is up to me, up to all of us individually, to accept that things are changing, to mourn them if we need to, and then try to temper and brighten all of that with thankfulness even as we move forward into the currents and many pointed winds of the unknown.

~

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Erica Leibrandt Read Bio

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AUTHOR: ERICA LEIBRANDT

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Ayahuasca didn’t Heal Me. I am Healing Me.

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Anna Palmer1 Follower

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One word stands out more than most other words these days in the spiritual, self-seeking enlightenment community:

Ayahuasca.

To most and some unfamiliar, it goes a bit like this:

She is a Mother Spirit. A vine. A plant. A healer. A tough lesson. A sick night. A purging cleanse. A new start. A fresh slate. The Alpha Medicine. All-Things-Healer. Whatever you have, she will show you the way to heal.

I feel as though I need to establish my respect for this teacher plant here (as if she could hear me utter these words). Alright, alright, so maybe that’s the paranoia in me in the sacred medicine community I found myself in. Let’s get one thing straight: I have the utmost respect for her medicine, her teachings, and her beautiful visions and realizations.

Ayahuasca came to me at a point in my healing journey when I felt as though the experience in and of itself (i.e. traveling to the jungles of Peru for seven days, three weeks total travel in Peru) would expand my little, but confining safety bubble.

I was not new to plant medicine as a whole. I participated in a plant medicine community for about one year, each month attending ceremonies that broke me back down to feeling and processing years of unresolved pain. Plant medicine became a vital tool to my then stagnant growth and cyclical addiction of bulimia and disordered eating patterns.

Plant medicine brought me back to feeling pain other types of therapy hadn’t even gotten close to scratching the surface. But, it was in community and relationship that the healing was amplified.

As most of us are wounded in relationship, so do we heal in relationship.

Two years later, I am a recovered bulimic, continuing my present recovery from exercise addiction and body shame, dysmorphia, disembodiment, and altogether body rejection.

Eight months ago, when I went to Peru, I went for the lived experience. Of medicine. Travel. Friendship. And anything and everything outside of the predictable routine.

Trauma makes us clutch to what makes us feel safe. At points along the journey, these tools are necessary to survive. Whether that be food, alcohol, drugs, sex, relationships, and so on.

Until they are no longer safe. No longer self-protecting, but self-harming.

Bulimia did that for me for nearly 10 years. And exercise, for much longer.

Ayahuasca didn’t heal me though. I healed—and I am healing—me. I say this in the most humbling way possible. Plant medicine was a tool. A resource for me to connect deeper. To show me how to feel again.

And also to show me that the medicine is already in me.

In my heart. In my Spirit. In my daily choices since I stepped away from the self-harming title I wore. In my daily habits. That sure, maybe still cycle back to obsession, but have ceased to create my identity as a sufferer.

I am a healer. We are all healers. Whether in the grips of suffering or coming out the other side.

Healing happens from the inside out, but sometimes the outside in. Or, maybe both at the same time.

It was the perfect storm for me to heal from bulimia. Entering a new field of bodywork, a newly licensed massage therapist. A move to a “big” city, out of my hometown. A new home. A new community network. A whole bunch of newness to shake me from the sturdy foundation that I had been building.

Self-empowerment came when I stepped into my career as a “healer.” A woman ready to hold space for herself. And, in that, create more healing space for others.

So, no, Ayahuasca didn’t heal me. She showed me in one week that I had come with the medicine I needed: Love. And would be leaving with this same medicine.

Love is a choice. It is our birthright, but it does not mean we sometimes choose otherwise.

The medicine exists in the love we give ourselves and our world. Most of us still don’t fill our own cup. We seek to be filled by another. By money, status, or the worldly desire to feel whole.

I am here to remind you that nothing outside of you will heal you. Not even a spiritual plant. We can access healing in certain modalities, all the while knowing healing is coming from within.

We came here to heal. That is our mission. And, love, as I have searched the edges of the earth for anything else, is the only way.

The Medicine is Love.

Love is the Medicine.

You are the Medicine.

~

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Anna Palmer Read Bio

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AUTHOR: ANNA PALMER

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IMAGE: LUDMILA VILARINHOS/FLICKR

The Quote

Faith

Faith is never identical with piety. - Karl Barth

When I was very religious I would genuflect in church, make the sign of the cross, rattle my rosary beads, and murmur prayers so that everybody knew I was praying. I had piety but little faith. Today I'm more spiritual. I have faith not only in my understanding of God but also your understanding of God. Namaste ! I not only believe that Christianity is a path to God, but I also believe that there are other paths to God, religious and nonreligious. This is my understanding of Say Yes to Your Spirit. Also I have a faith in myself today. There is a divinity within me that allows me to love and heal others and myself. I have joy today. Now can you understand why I am dancing in God?

I do not want to be a hypocrite in God's world.

On this day of your life

I believe God wants you to know ...

... that gratitude in advance is the most powerful creative

force in the universe.

Most people do not know this, yet it is true. Expressing

thankfulness in advance is the way of all Masters. So

do not wait for a thing to happen and then give thanks.

Give thanks before it happens, and watch energies swirl!

To thank God before something occurs is an act of

extraordinary faith. And that, of course, is where the

power comes from. It's Thanksgiving Day in the U.S.

Why not make it Thanksgiving Day in the hearts of

people everywhere, all the time?

Breaking Bread Together (OM)

by Madisyn Taylor Taking the time to share a meal with family or a close friend not only feeds your body, but also nourishes your soul. As we rush to keep up with the speed of our busy lives, one of the first activities we tend to sacrifice is the sharing of a meal with other people. We may find ourselves eating alone at the kitchen counter or hurriedly drinking a cup of soup while driving in our cars. Yet taking the time to share a meal with family or a close friend not only feeds your body, but also it can nourish your soul. Companionship can fill the heart the way warm stew can satisfy your belly. Eating a meal with others allows you to slow down, while nurturing your relationships. Breaking bread with others can be treated like a ritual where the gestures of sharing and togetherness are just as important as the food you eat. Planning, preparing, and consuming a meal are all stepping off points toward good conversation, bonding, and learning about someone else. Inviting a new acquaintance to share a meal can be the start of a wonderful friendship. A shared breakfast can be a brainstorming session between coworkers, or it can set the tone for a positive day for family members. Lunch with a friend can be a welcome break from the day's stress, as well as a chance to unwind. Dinner with loved ones can be a chance to talk about the day's events with people who truly care. Sometimes, there may even be no need for conversation, and you may want to share a meal with someone while sitting in comfortable silence. The breaking of bread can be a fulfilling experience, especially when done among people you love and trust. So the next time you find yourself rushing through a meal in front of your computer, you may want to pause and reconsider. The warm feelings, sense of security, and enjoyment you experience from sharing a meal with others may be the kind of break that you really need.

CoDA Weekly Reading

A week after our one-year anniversary, my boyfriend told me about his porn addiction. It was definitely a shock, and I was angry at him that he kept it from me for so long and angry at myself that I didn't see the signs. My mom was a recovering alcoholic, my sister a recovering drug addict, and my brother a suspected alcoholic. And with all this family history, I should have seen the signs, or so I thought. And I also thought I knew how to deal with this new information. I mean, my family dealt with it, so shouldn't I know how to deal with it? And in case the suspense will kill you... NO! I did not really know how to deal with it.
Over the next few weeks after he told me, I became paranoid. I thought about all the times I called him and he seemed distracted, all the times I took a nap and he was out in the living room by himself, and all the times he quickly clicked out of something that was on his phone. And then I began thinking about what he was doing all the time. I felt the need to be around him just to prevent him from falling into his addiction. But it was impossible to keep up with myself, and I did not want to become that "clingy" girlfriend you always hear about. So, I looked for help.

My boyfriend didn't want me to tell any of my friends or family members about his addiction, and I agreed. It's personal, and it was embarrassing for him. But the more and more I got lost inside my own head, the more and more I needed to talk to SOMEONE.

One day I broke—I couldn't breathe and couldn't stop crying. I was having a major panic attack. I ended up telling my boyfriend's and my most important secret to my closest friend. I still feel guilty over it. But I needed to tell somebody as much as I needed water to survive. And it was that day I knew I had to make a change. I had to find a new group, a therapist, or SOMETHING!

Soon after that day I went to my first CoDA meeting! The first group I went to didn't feel quite right. The way they spoke made them sound like victims, and I didn't want to be a victim. I again felt hopeless, wondering if the right thing was out there, but I had to keep trying. I found a new meeting that was a bit further away, but I was prepared to drive anywhere just to find some comfort. And it was at this CoDA meeting I finally found hope and peace. It felt right, and it felt like a new beginning. For a year, I was wishing help would just come, but it turns out I had to go and find it. And CoDA is where I found it.

Cosette R – 11/4/19

Having a Heart as Weak as Wax (MB)

Michael Berg

NOVEMBER 27, 2019

The story in the portion Toldot is a well-known one: Isaac wants to give the blessing of the first born to Esau, the selfish son, but Rebecca tells Jacob they have to trick Isaac into giving him the blessing instead, doing so through preparing food and putting on Esau’s clothing. And the Midrash gives us an interesting insight into Jacob’s psyche and emotions during these moments that are important for us to understand.

"HIS HEART IS AS WEAK AS WAX."

The Midrash tells us that Jacob does not want to do this, and that he is forced to. It says that as he’s getting prepared to enter his father’s room, he is bent over, completely broken, and crying. So, as Jacob is getting ready to receive what is probably the greatest Light revealed in this world, how does he go into it? Forced, bent over, completely broken, and crying. When he enters the room, his father senses something's wrong for many reasons; Isaac smells the Garden of Eden, yet  knows that Esau is not connected to the Garden of Eden, and he hears Jacob use the names referring to the Creator, yet knows Esau is not connected to the Light of the Creator. Therefore, he tells Jacob, “I want to feel you. I want to see if you're really my son Esau.”

"THE CREATOR SENDS TWO ANGELS."

Jacob is crying so much that the tears are falling on his hips and thighs, and it says his heart is as weak as wax. He's so upset and broken that he can't even move, so the Creator sends two angels to support him and take him close to Isaac, since he is not going on his own. Jacob has lost power over his body, and these two angels are holding him; that is the secret of the verse in Isaiah - “Do not give up, because the Creator is there to support you.”

But, why is the Creator doing all this? Poor Jacob - aren't there easier ways for him to draw all this Light? The answer, and this is vital to understand, is that the only way for Jacob to merit the great gifts from Isaac is if he is completely broken. Only when Jacob felt nothing of himself, no thoughts, merit, or ability of himself, could the blessings come. The only way Jacob, or anyone, can awaken that great Light and draw down those blessings is to be as empty as he was in that moment.

Until the End of the Correction, the end of pain, suffering, and death in this world, all the Light of elevation and revelation comes from this moment in Jacob's time. And only because Jacob was so lacking and empty was he able to draw that Light down for himself, and the world. We learn from this, therefore, something extremely important: if we want to have great Light and draw down the highest blessings, we have to feel devoid of merit, like Jacob did. We have to have, as the Midrash tells us, a heart as weak as wax, such that we are so empty we can’t even move and need the angels to support us.