Right now I am experiencing a strong desire to go to sleep, but my body won't have it.  Along with this nagging mental desire to rest is a strong sense that I will be OK if I don't sleep right now.  It is 3:30am, the best time to write and reflect.  

The Children of Dune were taught "fear is the mind killer."  I thought about this as I watched this film for the fifth time the other day.  Indeed, fear can take other the mind like an oil spill, suffocating rational thought and triggering panel and dis-ease in the heart.

But it can also spur me on to states of greater survival and success.  It is fear that prompts me to finally surrender my ideas to the better judgment of others and to God.  It is fear that reminds me that I still have compassion work to do so that I don't get too cocky or indignant or critical.  See fear comes before these emotional masks.  Once I catch myself applying the mask of criticism, I can pause and consider the source of my concern.  Many times, I admit, the source of my self-righteous indignation is fear. 

The result of this mindfulness is at times a greater sense of balance and connectedness.  Without this, the mindkiller not only separates me from my own heart, but it also separates me from the hearts of others.

My would express gratitude for gravity that allows me walk on the earth, feet to soil, head in sky, arms in tha space bwtween.

The biggest adventure of this past year has been my discernment about entering a religious order.  My beliefs about myself, my relationship with God and my relationship with the universe were all questioned.  Amazing people showed up in my life to offer their experience.  I opened myself up to a whole new life.  It appeared, initially, that I might join a convent where I can lead a contemplative live in community.  Now, as my discernment continues, I'm not so sure.  Is it possible, I wonder, to be a hermit in community. . .?

The last thing I shared with someelse was a list of networking websites.

Yoga, apple cider, and apple cinnamon cereal lift my spirits.

The last thing I smiled at was Charles Dicken's description of young David Copperfield's housemaid Pergotty as she busted the buttons on her dress each time she laughed or cried.

Every time I put energy toward a clear purpose or goal, I give up my life as I know it.  Everything that stands in the way of fulfilling this new purpose is surrendered.

Gosh, wouldn't it be cool if my purse held a shovel, a pair of waders and an change of clean clothes?  Chances are that I won't need a shovel or a pair of waders any time soon, but the spiritual equivalents could come in handy.  What happens when I end up in a financial or logistical mess?  I have to dig my way out of it.  Many times I have to wade through to the other side and climb until I can see the sun.  In reality, a change of clean clothes is always handy.  But so are these coping tools that allow me to meet the unknown with acceptance and courage.  Life is.  Sometimes it feels as if it is happening to me as if I'm some innocent bystander in a crime scene.  But the Spiritual CSIs are always quick to point out that I remain a willing participant in this drama of life.  And today I get to clean up my own messes. 

The last hand written correspondence I sent was a set of thank you notes to the staff of company I interviewed with the day before. It seemed the thing to do.  .  .These days, all my correspondence is sent and received by email.  The whole point is to communicate with another person.  So whether it's by smoke signals, morris code, or a single candle in a window, it'simportant that the other person gets my message.