A Gift You Cannot Purchase

Here it is, once again, the season that both excites us and depletes us, as we hurry along day after day, formulating lists, scurrying along from store to store, buying, purchasing, wrapping and waiting. We wait for a day in which we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ, with our family and friends, unwrapping gifts, singing songs, and eating a bounty of food. I myself have been caught in the excitement, moving from one store to the next, looking for items that will bring a smile to the face of my husband and son on Christmas morning. Along with these activities that lead up to Christmas morning, I have been spending time with my self, sitting in the silence, listening. One of the gifts I want this season is peace and love. There is a woman at work that has been disturbing my peace- or more accurately- that I have been letting disturb my peace. When I speak with Martha and tell her about some of the projects that I am working on outside the office, such as my cooking classes, often she will respond with a comment such as this: "Did you know Susan that Diane, in finance, makes the best  homemade jams and has a successful web site where she sells her creations!" I  then stand there with my mouth hanging open, responding, "Oh-that's great."

For months I have prayed about the situation, as I dodge her in the hallways of our office. This morning, as I sat in the silence, a light bulb went off. The past six months I have been judging Martha, her comments, and asking myself, "Why does she always mention another individual that is more accomplished than me?" I thought to myself, "Could it be something within myself that she intuits when we are together that brings forth these comments?" Maybe instead of pointing my finger at Martha, perhaps I might look within, in a loving, forthright manner, and see what I find. So instead of rushing out this morning to join the masses at the mall, I did some searching.

As a young girl with no sisters and a female cousin my age that I visited frequently, both of our mothers would engage in competitive conversations about their respective daughters, myself and my cousin Mary. Naturally, over time, I found myself comparing my achievements with Mary's. Mary was smarter, Mary had more friends then I had, these were the thoughts that played over and over in my head. Could it be that I viewed Martha as I had my cousin Mary, and when we were together she sensed my feelings of doubt concerning my accomplishments, which in turn brought forth her statements. In the book, Zero Limits, by Joe Vitale and Ihaleakala Hew Len, it states, "Our thoughts create our world." For months I have been judging Martha. By not accepting my own gifts, and having thoughts of being "less then," possibly Martha was reflecting her own feelings of "less then" back to me. If I could love and forgive my self, my judgements of Martha, then perhaps I could love and forgive others, including Martha.

During this holiday season, as we rush to purchase the perfect presents and cook delightful meals, let us take a few moments a day to sit in the silence. In the silence, if we listen, we may be given a gift more precious then one we may unwrap. As I did this morning, ten days before Christmas, in realizing that as I forgive myself and let go of my judgements towards my fellow brothers and sisters, opening my heart to them in love, they can in turn forgive themselves for their judgements and love themselves a little more. Perhaps this is the true meaning of Christmas.

Falling In Love With My Husband- Again

 As a young girl I often heard my Mom say things to my Dad, or to no one in particular, such as: "What happened to all the bananas, I just bought a bunch yesterday and they are all gone!" My Dad was a big guy, and yes, he did eat a lot of bananas!  Or when my Dad, who loved to entertain and cook Italian food for his family and friends, invited over twenty people into our home for a meal, my Mom would react with anger, "Why does he always do this!!!!- he is going to take over my kitchen!" My parents would proceed to cook together, arguing as they worked. In my Italian family a lot of the bickering was over food: what to cook, how to cook it, and who was going to get the credit for the results.

I "learned" at an early age that my Dad did not do things as my Mom wanted things done and she frequently made this known to me and my brothers. For many years of my marriage I found myself repeating this behavior with my husband. My husband, the gentle, patient man that he is did not respond. That is, at least for a while. You could say I was lucky. Maybe not. As Charlie began pointing out the criticism that I directed towards him, he also reminded me of my Mom's reactions to my Dad's actions.
At first it was difficult for me to hear this truth. I was young at the time and was not sure how to change my reactions to my husband, and at times I did not want to. It was comfortable, this behavior of mine.

This past May I turned fifty and decided that I wanted more love in my life. I wanted to love myself and my husband in a deeper way. Using the works of Byron Katie, Loving What Is, and developing a daily practice of mindfulness- paying attention to each moment and "falling behind" and just watching the incessant chatter in my mind- I began to make a shift. The more I was able to notice my thoughts, the ones that criticized and complained about my husband and myself, and then question their validity, the less these thoughts would pop into my consciousness. Or if they did appear in my mind, I taught myself to laugh at them.  More and more I noticed the little, sweet things that my husband does for me and my son. The way he lovingly makes breakfast for us, or while we are driving together in the car he reaches over to me to hold my hand.  I focused on the good, on love, and practiced gratitude each and every day for all the blessings I was given. A shift took place; my heart opened wider and wider. The more love and acceptance I gave to him and myself, the more I received. Then one day recently I woke up feeling like the newly married bride, excited for the day with her new husband- only it was twenty-three years after the wedding!