I’ve discovered a new reason for me to exercise:  I get cosmic messages when I do.

A few years ago I was uncharacteristically into running.   I would get up early and run a few miles before the family awoke.  Interesting how that seems like such a foreign concept to me now.  One day as I was nearing my home I noticed a large black bird circling overhead.  We have a lot of crows or ravens in the area, so at first I didn’t think anything of it.  Then I noticed it seemed unusually large.  Just then it swooped lower and landed on my neighbor’s chimney.  It was indeed NOT a crow!  I ran into my house and up to my 3rd floor office and there, perching on their chimney and staring directly into my window – was a large black VULTURE!  Let me tell you, it is a bit unnerving to see a vulture starting at you!  Once I got over my initial freaking out, I decided to try a different perspective on the situation and looked up what vultures symbolize.  It seems that vultures symbolize patience, are a reminder to think things through and to utilize your resources at hand.  They also represent renewal.  So, although admittedly a non-traditional messenger, it was a great message for me to receive.

Today I think I got another one, from another of the bird family.  I have for a few years now come to revere hawks as a power symbol and harbinger of good luck.  This morning as I was pulling into the parking garage in downtown Montclair to go work out at the YMCA, there in my path was a hawk!  My immediate reaction was one of surprised excitement.  And then I noticed it was eating a pigeon.  I couldn’t wait to get home to look up what pigeons represented.  It made my workout fly by as my mind ran the gamut of possibilities.

When I finally rushed home to my computer, here’s what it said:

Hawks:  “The hawk comes to you indicating that you are now awakening to your soul purpose, your reason for being here. It can teach you how to fly high while keeping yourself connected to the ground.”

Pigeons: “Pigeons are symbols of love and marital bliss as well as happiness in the home”

So does this mean that I’m finally discovering my purpose in life:  to destroy love and marital bliss?  **sigh** Maybe I’ll have to rethink this exercise thing again.

There’s the story about the man of great faith who was waiting on his roof for God to come and rescue him from the floods.  He sent away the rescuers in the rowboat saying “God will save me”.  He sent away the helicopter saying “God will save me”.  Finally the flood waters overpowered him and he awoke in Heaven, sitting in front of God.  “I don’t get it, God,” the man said.  “I had great faith that you would save me and look where I ended up!”  God answered “I don’t get it either.  I sent you a rowboat and a helicopter…”  Somehow I feel I’m relating to that man a little too much.

I don’t know why I feel like I’m merely treading water these days, just biding my time until I can start to do what I’m REALLY supposed to be doing in this life.  All this reconnection with my past of late has left me with the attitude of “well, sure I made a difference back then, but what am I doing now?”  I can picture the conversation right now with God:  I’ve arrived at the Pearly Gates and am feeling so sad that I didn’t accomplish my mission.  “What about your children?”  he’ll ask.

“Oh, yes, well, I did the best I could.  Look what they’ve been able to do for themselves!”

“Well, what about your work?  The people you helped launch and grow their businesses?  The ones who re-examined their lives because of your workshops and writings?”

“I’m truly grateful for that.  But I never got to really be of service!”

“And what was the Sunday School teaching, the tutoring, the PTAs, the committee work, the boards, the car-pooling?  What about the times you were there for a friend?  What was all that?”

“Yes, yes, yes.  But it wasn’t ENOUGH!”

At that I picture God throwing up his hands, shaking his head and walking away muttering under his breath.

OK, maybe I’m just where I’m supposed to be.  At least for today.

The other day I was putting something down on my dresser and my eye caught the picture of my dad cradling a rather pudgy baby sound asleep in him arms.  The very proud grandpa was beaming, holding his first grandchild.  Then my eye traveled to the school pictures of my other two children – and I was stopped dead in my tracks.  The tilt of their heads, the gentle smiles, the twinkle in their eyes….they are the spitting image of my father!  I had never seen this before but the resemblance is uncanny.  My middle son looks exactly like him, but with hair.  I know in his youth my dad sported an Elvis-like head of hair so it is even easier to see the connection.

I was so excited by this revelation that I pulled the pictures off the dresser and went in search of my kids to show them this incredible sight.  The first I found was my daughter, who said, “Really?  You think I look like him?”  She agreed that her brother did bear a close resemblance.  I shook off her nonplussed attitude, figuring its just not cool for a 14 year old girl to be told she looks like her 84 year old grandfather.  I marched into her brother’s room in gleeful anticipation.  Once I succeeded in pulling him away from the video wargame he was commanding, he glanced over at the pictures and said, “Really?  You think I look like him?”  Oh come on now – they are practically twins!

Discouraged, I went back to my room to return the pictures and then tried putting a picture of myself next to my dad.  Hmmm…just not seeing it.  I am sure there are those out there who know me and my dad and would be shocked that I couldn’t see the resemblance.

So what is it in us that does not see ourselves as others do?  Like the anorexic who sees themselves as fat even though they are a walking skeleton, we have implanted in our brains some sort of image that may not actually jive with reality.  Our vision of ourselves is influenced by the opinions of others as well as our own self-talk.  We can literally convince ourselves that we are not what appears before us in a mirror.

I know that I have gone through so many physical changes in my life that it is difficult for me to have a clear picture of what I look like.  Even more telling are the internal changes and how that affects my vision of myself from moment to moment.  I have trouble at times believing that anyone thinks I am attractive and at others I am feeling downright sassy.  Add in teenage hormones and it is no wonder my kids can’t recognize themselves.  The person they were in that school picture a few months ago is practically a stranger by now.

Maybe in a few years my kids will be able to look back and see their resemblance to their grandfather.  Who knows how long it will take before I do.

On church on Sunday I was asked to do several parts of the service, including writing and reading my own prayers.  Just call me “Pastorette Neal”.  I had successfully managed to avoid being called on to do this duty for the past 12 years, the equivalent of avoiding eye contact and staying under the radar the entire time your kids are in school.  This is not an easy task for someone who loves the spotlight, mind you.  It illustrates the skill I have learned very effectively: how to make myself invisible in close quarters.  It must have been that Facebook birthday greeting I sent to the organizer that brought me back into their consciousness.  That’ll teach me!

This was not a difficult task for me, or so it looked on paper.  I actually had done it once before and didn’t remember any lasting trauma from it.  Besides, if I could sing Latin with the choir in front of the congregation, reading words I had written myself was going to be a walk in the park.

Writing the prayers were more difficult than I thought.  For one, I was trying to think of how they usually sound and realized I either have a very limited memory, or I am totally not paying attention during the service.  I believe that although those are both true, the latter is really the issue.  The only thing that comforted me was that if I wasn’t really paying attention, probably others weren’t as well, and they probably wouldn’t start listening with me.

The second issue is that my views have, shall we say, strayed from the traditional Presbyterianism.  Over the years I have spent time in California (enough said) and obtained a Masters in Spiritual Psychology.  My beliefs are founded on my traditional church upbringing, liberally sprinkled with beliefs pulled from a variety of global spiritual sources.  I didn’t think that my staid Presbyterian cohorts would react quite so positively to my message if I kept saying I was “sending them Light and Love”.  So the challenge became how to express myself within the comfortable confines of the institution who asked me to do this service.

Lastly was that issue of logistics.  I couldn’t even remember when we stood or sat, which chair I was supposed to use (there were 2 chairs up front – did it matter which one I sat in?), and what if I forgot my reading glasses?!  Fortunately I typed it in large enough font to avoid that issue and the minister graciously let me know when do the rest.  The only thing I forgot was to ask the congregation to stand before I launched into my 1st responsive reading, leaving many looking bewildered and very few actually chiming in with the group response.  One or two words that were stumbled over and then I got my sea legs and it was smooth sailing from there on out.

At the end, when I was in the “receiving line” greeting the congregation on their exit from the sanctuary, people said “Nice job”, and I responded with “Well, except for that beginning…”  I finally realized how I was discounting myself after hearing myself say it for the 5th time.  A simple smile and “Thank You!”  would have been the appropriate response. Why is that I feel the need to put myself down instead of stepping into my greatness?  Why am I so uncomfortable with being acknowledged for doing a good job – is it feeling that I am making someone else feel bad in the process or do I feel I am undeserving of the praise?  I know I still harbor some very old belief that it is wrong to think highly of yourself – a belief that just may have its origins in the very institution I was now representing.  Perhaps this exercise was a way for me to learn to let that mislearned lesson go.

I don’t think I’ll be running out and signing up for seminary anytime soon, but I am sure I’ll be doing a presentation of some kind in the near future.  I’m going to make sure that I acknowledge the good work I have done, letting go of anything that doesn’t meet an unrealistic view of perfection.  And if anyone happens to give me a compliment, I’ll remember to answer with a simple “Thanks!”  And maybe I’ll throw in a little “light and love to you”,  just for good measure!

Yesterday I was in a silly mood and was doing a very goofy dance, a la Elaine from Seinfeld, in the kitchen.  My daughter, by now resigned to the fact that she has a slightly bizarre mother, said “Mom, look at the dogs!”  I turned around to see my pups looking at me with heads tipped to the side.  And the look on their faces was a mix between sheer horror and disbelief.  I was half expecting them to say “What in the WORLD are you doing?!”  Rather humbling to be dissed by a dog.

I decided to observe my pets to see what I could learn from them on the secrets of life.  Lily, the year old pup, lives for walks and attention and Trixie, the 9 year old lump, lives for food and naps.  I am in agreement with both lifestyles.  But here are the other things I have learned:

• There is no love except unconditional love
• A little nuzzle when someone is looking down helps brighten their spirits
• Run hard/rest hard
• Look at your surroundings each day as if it was the first time you’ve been there.  It makes each day an adventure.
• Protect your loved ones from the “bad guys” and enjoy their friends
• The simplest things bring the greatest pleasure
• Be consistent, hold your boundaries and make sure you praise the good stuff

Lily just came up to check on me as I was writing this.  Much can be said without ever uttering a word.

It has been said that the best things come to those who wait.  I’m finding that sometimes the gifts come 30 years later:  I just got a note from one of my former students!

Thirty some years ago I was a bright eyed, dark haired exuberant optimist who could not WAIT to be a teacher.  I knew since I was in first grade that this is what I would do and it seemed like an eternity until I could actually fulfill the dream.  When I graduated from college there was a glut of teachers and very few jobs.  My parents and other worried adults tentatively asked me what I was going to do.  “Get a teaching job!” was my reply.  I was confident that there was one out there for me, regardless of where I had to move and how long it would take.  I did a lot of substituting and waitressing until the job came through, but as expected, it did.  I was finally on my path!

A new elementary school had opened in Lapeer, Michigan and I was hired to teach a combination 3rd and 4th grade.  I can still feel that sense of pride and excitement in setting up my classroom for the first time.  The only issue was the classroom itself.  Following the best of educational intentions, one wing of the school had been designed to accommodate the latest teaching trend: open classrooms.  The theory behind it was that by eliminating physical walls, it encouraged and enabled children to move freely to the areas in the building where the most level-appropriate training for them was available.  Great idea, bad execution.  Basically what was done was to build a traditional school wing and just don’t install any walls.  You can imagine the noise issues and chaos created by having 6 classrooms of 8-12 year olds all able to hear and see each other at all times.  I believe it was about day 2 of the school year when the portable chalk boards came rolling in to create at least visual barriers.

In addition to the physical location challenges that year, I also was “gifted” with a class of 29 children with no aide.  And being the rookie, I also was allowed to experience all those children the other 3rd grade teacher didn’t want to handle.  I was up for the challenge and loved each unique personality – and believe me we had them!  I spent many hours coaxing Superman off the desk, the shy one out from under the table and holding the nervous ones until they were brave enough to go to gym class.  Somewhere in there I must have taught them something too – or at least tried to.  It was fun and draining and exasperating at times and I wouldn’t trade a minute of it.

I left the elementary classroom 4 years later feeling absolutely wiped out.  It was one of the more discouraging times in my life.  I had known I was a teacher and yet was physically making myself sick from the job.  It was just too much for me and I left the education world for a summer job in the corporate one and never went back.  Even though I was out of education, I still considered myself a teacher, resulting in a big mismatch in my self-concept and a feeling that somehow I had stepped away from my purpose in life.

Years passed and I left the corporate world for the world of enterpreneurship.  I was giving workshops I’d created on how to find balance in your life – a topic I’d learned about the hard way- and invariably at the end a few of the participants would come up to me and thank me, telling me that what I had presented was invaluable to them.  It was probably after about the 3rd time that this happened that it hit me:  I’m teaching.  I had had it set in my mind for so long that being a teacher meant having a classroom of children and had shut out any other possibilities of what that meant.  It was a spiritual awakening of sorts to realize that yes, I am on my path afterall.

It is so easy to go through my day without giving myself any credit for what I do or what I have done.  I take it for granted that I’ll use my skills and abilities and am actually quite harsh on myself when I don’t feel I’ve done a particular job to the best of my ability.  After leaving teaching, I harbored some lingering thoughts that although I think I did the best that I could at the time, it was perhaps not enough.

And then I got a note from JoEllen.

How she found found me I am not sure but yesterday there in my inbox was a brief note asking me if I was the MacMeekin who used to teach 3rd grade.  I immediately recognized the name and replied.  She went on to say that she remembered me and told me I was the BEST teacher.  I think I still have tucked away in some storage box those same words written in a 3rd grade girl’s scrawl on a handcrafted card complete with hearts and rainbows and flowers.  I know that they are forever written in my heart.  If I ever had any doubts that I am on the right path, I certainly don’t now.  What a beautiful gift, 30 years later!

When I was in my early 20s I had a lapel button that said “My life is a soap opera”.  It was more of a declarative statement than a conversation starter.  I now can see how I used the constant drama as a wonderful distraction from anything that really mattered to me.  But at the time it was exhilaration and pain on a daily basis, a roller coaster of emotions and intriguing situations. Life these days is pretty mundane compared to then.  Thank goodness.

During the moments that I could rise above the insanity and oversee the situation at hand, I would merely shake my head and say “God must have something really interesting in mind for me to have all these experiences.”  I figured that there was a reason for each encounter and if nothing else, it gave me the ability to relate to a lot of people in a lot of different life situations.

I have found that in many ways this was actually foretelling of my current vocation.  My varied and colorful past has allowed me to be far more empathetic towards others because in a lot of cases I’ve literally been there, done that.  However I also have another life situation which, when coupled with this empathy, can come off as perhaps not so helpful.  Ask my sisters:  you see, I’m the oldest.  I am a big sister extraordinaire.  I believe the word “bossy” has been used to describe me.  From my vantage point it looks like the best of intentions:  I have ALL this experience and I am here to help!  If someone tells me their tale of woe, not only will I probably have one to match it, but I’ll share it with you AND tell you what you should do about it – based on my experience , mind you.

I never really understood how annoying and totally UN-helpful this can be until I saw it reflected in my oldest son’s behavior.  I believe he has me beat in the bossy category though, as he really doesn’t hold back at ALL with his opinions.  I at least still had that need for everyone to like me so it was tempered a bit.  But regardless of the degree of bossiness, I was horrified to witness this mirror being held up to me when I witnessed his behavior with others, particularly his siblings.  I believe I started immediately saying I’m sorry to my siblings soon after and still feel a twinge of guilt whenever we meet.

I still believe that the empathy I have for others as a result of my experiences is a very positive outcome and I work hard to utilize it in ways that benefit the other person, not me.  At times I find myself literally biting my tongue to stop myself from chiming in with “OH I know JUST what you mean because I….”  Although come to think of it, just this morning I did have to chime in with how I never had a full night’s sleep for 10 years when my kids were small today when a colleague was talking about her kids.  Well, I guess there’s always tomorrow to start again…

A few Valentines Days ago I saw a news story on the meaning of the various colors of roses.  Why that made the national news, I don’t know, but of course I watched it.  The only thing I remembered was that red was for true love and that yellow was for friendship.  About that time I started seeing my now fiance, who has a wonderful habit of buying me flowers – roses in particular.  I was joking with him about what he was trying to tell me and the “curse of the yellow roses” became a running joke with us.  So it is understandable that on Sunday when we were at the grocery store I nearly missed my chance encounter with Stephen Colbert because of the yellow roses in our cart.

There are inherent dangers in having a degree in Psychology.  The good news is that I have a fascination with human behavior.  The bad news is that I tend to spend WAY too much time analyzing situations and motivations, rather than taking them at face value.  Here are my cases in point:

Situation one:  Guy loves girl.  Guy wants to show his love for said girl by buying flowers.

Situation Two:  Couple is entertaining guests and goes to the grocery store for the supplies.

These are very mundane, normal situations, but I have been known to be able to make a Bic pen complicated.  So here is how my analytic mind saw it:

Situation One:  Guy loves girl.  Guy wants to show his love for said girl by buying flowers.  However, she has perfectly good flowers at home that he bought less than a week ago.  Why does he feel the need to buy more?  Is he feeling guilty for something?  And then he picks out the YELLOW ONES!  Of course they are the prettiest and healthiest of the bunch, but really, yellow?!  What is he really trying to tell me here?  Is this is a joke or is it an unconscious message? And there is red tint on the edges.. does that change the situation?

You can see how with this swirling in my head that I nearly missed Stephen Colbert brushing past me in the produce aisle.  His wife had to ask me (very politely) to move.  This jarred me out of that analysis and into a new one of situation two:

Situation Two:  Couple entertaining and at the grocery store for supplies.  Except the couple is made up of a celebrity who is acting rather standoffish.  Is this because he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself or because he is self-absorbed?  And yet his wife seems very warm and open.   So what could I say that would get his attention in a non-threatening way and yet get him to see that I am a fascinating and funny person that yes, he’d love to have me on his show some time.  Or maybe even over for dinner.  Heck, we’re practically neighbors anyway. Although I’m not crazy about octopus.  I wonder how they cook that?

You get the picture…

My challenge today is to use my wonderfully analytic and creative mind to observe and move on – not to tie me down in worry and conjecture.  I need to be grateful for what is and not wonder about what could be.  My reality today is that I am healthy and safe and having loving friends and family – and two beautiful bouquets of roses blooming on my table.  Life is good, regardless of the color.

I love it when I get reminders that this “stuff” I like to profess really does work: seven years later, I’m buying back my old car.

On this day of honoring the great Dr. Martin Luther King, I am reminded of the power of positive intentions.  I am true believer that if you are clear about your intentions, state them to another person, and live your life as if they are already happening, they do indeed come to fruition.  I couldn’t say for sure that Dr. King had this same belief, but I do know that the man was a powerful example of focus on your belief.  I have seen it work in my own life in areas that are vital and areas that are more mundane.  I know that the more I let go of thinking about a situation and just live my life acting as if it’s no big deal, of course it will happen, it really does.  This is how I am getting this car back.

In 1998 my husband and I decided that with 3 kids and a big purple van, we needed another car that we could use to just zip around town and take actual grownups in.  We had been thinking about an Audi or a BMW and frankly I just didn’t want to deal with it any longer so I let my husband loose one Saturday and said “Just go buy one!”  I will always remember that sheepish look on his face when he came home, practicing his best “overcome the objectives” salesperson pitch, to tell me that we are the proud owners of a VW Jetta.  A peppy V6.   Electric blue.  Let’s just say I was less than tickled with that decision.  Sure it could fit the 3 kids in the back today, but if they grew an inch we’d have to dump one.    And that color?!  He told me it would avoid accidents as people would see us coming.  And it would be a great car for the kids to drive.  Keep in mind that our oldest was 8 years old at the time – he just wasn’t getting very far with argument.

It took me a while before I warmed up to that car.  Mostly I didn’t want him to be right I think.  But it was a zippy little thing and fun to drive – a welcome diversion from the grape van.  We actually were sad when we realized that we really needed something a little bigger a few years later and contemplated selling it.  It was about a minute after we made that decision to sell it that our neighbor walked over  and said “This may be a crazy question, but if you are ever looking to sell that car, we’d be interested.”  Easiest car sale I’d ever done!

My 2nd son is getting ready to get his drivers license in a few months.  Although he is noticeably better than he was a few months ago, I still am not looking forward to handing over my sole mode of transportation to him.  We have a jeep that was our “island car” and is really fun to drive in the summer but it is not a winter car and not a safe one in any season.  So about a month ago I told the boys I was thinking of selling the jeep and getting a small car.  Something that seats about 4 people, is a stick shift, reliable car, not too high mileage and under $5000.  I said it and let it go, figuring that when the time was right it would happen.  I swear that the thought of that electric blue car never crossed my mind.

This weekend I was driving to pick up some child one night and there was the blue car parked on the street.  Mind you, we live in a town with gas street lamps which are quaint but don’t shed much light, and it was dark out.  I could still see this car.  As I went by it, smiling, my eyes caught a sign in the window: For Sale.  No way.  I immediately called my neighbor and when I announced myself she said “Do you want to buy the car?”  Second easiest car sale I’ve ever done!

Dr. King has been an inspiration to many for so many worthy causes.  I don’t think he intended it to fall over into car sales as well.  But if I can be reminded of the power of intention by something as lofty as Dr. King or as commonplace as an electric blue Jetta, I just may be a believer after all.

It took until today for me to shed a tear about the Haiti earthquake.  This was extremely disturbing to me as this is such a horrific situation: why on earth was I not more upset about it?  Me, whose eyes well up as I watch TV commercials, was not crying over a real human tragedy.  It was just baffling.

This morning I was watching a news report and there was a young girl from the US who had been in Haiti doing volunteer work.  She had been trapped in debris and had lost her leg but was back in the US now getting treatment.  Her optimism, joy of living, and desire to get back to help were inspirational.  And then I started to cry.  In thinking about it, watching pictures of the devastation were just too surreal for me to get my head around.  Logically I knew this was real, that these were real people in real desperate situations, but it just looked too much like scenes from a movie to me.  I remember my ex-husband saying the same thing when he saw one of the planes hit the World Trade Center.  The mind just can’t -or won’t – register that kind of disaster.

So it came back once again to a single individual to break through the barrier I’d unconsciously built to protect some part of myself.  Someone I could imagine being my daughter or a neighbor.  Someone whose purity of spirit shone through all the words and sounds and pictures of the past few days.  Someone who modeled for me what I wish for myself: optimism, joy of living and a desire to help others.  May her spirit be an inspiration to us all and may it help us to help those who need it most.