playtime

I can tell i'm aging because i reminisce more than i used to. Having lived awhile, it gives me more material! So here goes...

When i was a kid, we had fewer organized activties. We had a front door, a back door, bikes, maybe a dollhouse or playhouse, and neighbors. Those were our toys. We made weapons, water balloons, little wars, chemistry experiments (try baking soda, toothpaste and mouthwash), doll clothes, secret clubs, and kickball matches. We played hide-and-seek; we rode around, bored, waiting for inspiration.

I wonder now if today's kids know boredom, or have enough empty time to recognize their own inspiration. I notice that now, there are so many moms doing a fine job making their kids' lives full that the moms are empty, and the kids are overstuffed. This situation is aggravated by the media, with its constant injunctions to buy, or lose the glamour race. The commercial world conspires to turn us into consumers.

This is a Faustian bargain. Our sacred mandate is to be creators. And lovers. Early childhood research shows that when children feel secure in their primary love (usually mom), they explore, and play. When they don't feel secure, they're too nervous to leave mom's knee. Much energy is spent assuaging fears and reconnecting.

In a similar fashion, many kids today are not anchored well, in spirit or in nature. Their moms, either. This makes them overly dependent upon "strokes" by others, rather than a more solid well from within. In a strange twist, much of our creative energy is spent creating situations in which our value is reinforced.

Take time, and see, if a little time in nature doesn't fill your tanks. I gotta go now, my favorite tv show is on....

living by a script

The world is changing, to say the least. You can almost hear the ground rumbling. Old people, old systems, old paradigms, and old storylines are falling away. We're questioning all kinds of trusted institutions like marriage, the presidency, the integrity of our marketplace, and the very security of our world. Academia is stale, healthcare is sick, and the family unit is assaulted by hyperactivity, fragility, and materialism. Tough times, indeed!

This is what we might call the "dark night" of a collective spiritual passage. We are asked to let go of old habits of being, and thus remember more accurately who we really are, making more room for ourselves and each other to let spirit flow through us. It's a lot like letting go of a stylish - or at least safe - outfit that got us needed attention, or inclusion. We mistake it for our very skin. We cling and pull, and still it comes off, and we feel stripped, naked, vulnerable. We feel that others are staring at us, judging us for our nakedness. Hmmm. Sounds sort of Biblical.

The point is, we are so busy trying to please others, or to fit in to some tired old clique, that we forget whom we're meant to be. Our souls are not vapid, winged ephemera whose presence is only palpable in the afterlife. They have specific qualities, like a recipe, that give us indications of what kind of life experiences best suit us, uniquely. Some of us are meant to be dreamers; others, housewives. Yet others, inventors or connectors. At some point, it may be time to give up the homefront for an office job - or vice versa! We may long, in our depths, to feel more complete by completing the menu of experiences our souls have designed for us.

It feels frightening to step outside the safe bounds of convention (even if you're unconventional!) and become something else. Yet the courage to do so opens new doors for a more exciting, fulfilling pathway. Beware the guardians at the gate! They are not monsters, like the myths portray; they are monstruous fears or disappointed friends, who want us to stay comfortably stable, unmoving. Can we move beyond trite scripts into a fresh zone of creativity? Try it.