Allowing Life to Happen

At my house, they play water polo. My son and middle daughter also swim competitively, but the sport that matters is water polo. I’m pretty sure that neither of my daughters could tell you who won the last Super Bowl, much less who played. Actually, I don’t know that my son could tell you… but that’s fine. He is an awesome water polo coach. Just ask any player on his 12 and Under Boys team.

This weekend is huge for us – it’s the Junior Olympics Qualifier tournament. The winners of this tournament will go to National Junior Olympics later this summer. Needless to say, everyone at my house is a little keyed up this week. Probably no one more so than I. They have invested months of practice time in preparation for this tournament. (Trust me, I know, because I drove them to all of those practices.) That investment of time and effort has yielded tremendous benefits for them – they are both outstanding water polo players. I know that they can hold their own against any team they meet this weekend. 

Still, Orange County is the epicenter of water polo nationwide. This weekend, they will be facing some of the toughest competition the Junior Olympics has to offer. So there is a possibility that one or more of them won’t qualify for the national tournament. (Won’t that make for some awkward dinner conversations?)

This is one time that I wish I could chuck the concept of right action, and just cheer for them to win with every fiber of my being. Certainly, there is a lesson for them in losing, but couldn’t they learn it some other time?  After the hours of practice they’ve logged, the parties and outings they’ve missed, they would be so disappointed if they didn’t qualify for the National Junior Olympic tournament.

I would be so disappointed, too. I’ve had a front row seat on their journey. Sometimes I’ve been the passenger, sometimes I’ve been the driver, but always I’ve tried to support them. (Which is how I ended up as team mom. Talk about hours logged, Yay!)

Now, here we are, on the eve of JO Quals, as they are commonly known, and I am more on edge than the kids. Perhaps that’s because I have to sit back and watch it all play out. There is nothing I can do to influence the outcome – I can’t play for them. 

As parents, we all want the best for our children, and it can be difficult to watch them go out and risk disappointment. We have invested so much of ourselves in them and helping them achieve their goals. It can be hard to be relegated the role of observer.

The thing, of course, is to know that it is all right action. Life, unfolding exactly as it should.
As it always does.

We Are Spiritually Supported Always

During our Tuesday night class on The Essential Ernest, students were asked to write a paper on how their thoughts create their reality. Pat  Brencic used what she knows about the importance of a positive attitude to create positive results in her life. She learned  something  about judgment and perception as well. Her writing is so beautiful; I wanted to share it with you. 

One of my greatest joys is to see students awaken to the power of their own minds. I love to see how the Universe is always supporting us. I love that we are always at choice about how to use our minds. The following was submitted by Pat Brencic, a long time student of the Science of Mind.

A TRIBUTE TO BARBRA STREISAND by Pat Brencic

"I was driving north on Coast Highway headed for watercolor art class--my favorite activity of the week! I was listening to a favorite Streisand CD, “Higher Ground.” A mellow mood of peace surrounded me as Barbra sang, “You’ll Never Walk Alone.”  As I listened, my heart was bursting with appreciation for the warmth of the day, the sunshine, the beauty of my surroundings.

When I arrived at my destination and began to collect my painting gear, I realized my purse was missing. I looked everywhere—under the seat, in the back, in the trunk! In a matter of seconds, my serene mood gave way to panic. I vacillated between disbelief and reality. My heart beat loudly and irregularly. A sick liquid rose from my belly into my throat. An all-too-familiar voice shuddered through my body: “How could you be so stupid?” “How can I ever trust you?” “Look what you’ve done, now!”

Humiliated, I turned the car around to return to the coffee shop where I’d placed my purse on the counter while I added cream to my coffee. Doubtless, innumerable customers had been there in the meantime. In my mind I sorted through the content of my purse--$200 in cash, credit cards, drivers license and bank debit card—potentially an irresistible temptation to a desperate human being. I thought of the varied patrons of the coffee shop and of the two Vietnamese, who worked there, particularly of Dennis, the cook, who spoke few words, seldom made eye contact and whose face never showed any expression.

My body and mind were beset with distrust, discouragement and shame as I began to retrace the route I had driven earlier under an aura of gratitude and blessing. How was it possible that the flavor of my reality could change so quickly from light to dark, from joy to hopelessness when nothing had actually happened in those brief minutes? Nothing at all changed except MY THOUGHTS!

 In a moment of clarity, I realized that I had a choice. The result of this event in my life remained unknown. I could spend the next 15 minutes of my drive painting the outcome with fear, shame and mistrust. Or . . . I could try to unearth and reestablish the sense of gratitude and appreciation that had colored my earlier trip along this route. Knowing this was a pivotal moment, I made my choice for the latter. I turned Barbra on again, trusting her voice to reengage my earlier vibrant mood. As she sang, “I Believe,” I visualized people going in and out of the coffee shop and sent them thoughts of blessing and good will. I imagined good fortune for the couple who operated the shop. Several times, doubts overwhelmed me, but I also remembered my ability to choose again!

My purse was nowhere in sight when I entered the coffee shop once more. With little hope I asked the small, shy woman behind the counter if anyone had found my purse. She paused for a moment, and then reached behind her. Her eyes showed delight when she handed me my purse and said, “Dennis found it!” In that moment my heart swelled so much that I thought it would burst out of my body. I couldn't speak! So, by way of saying “thank you” I reached in my purse, took a large bill out and held it out to her. She shook her head and backed up, refusing to accept it, even when I tried again and again. I suspect it may have shocked her that I was crying. How could she know the depth of the lesson she had brought me that day.

When I returned to my car and started it up again, Barbra was singing, “We are standing on Holy Ground.” Isn't Barbra amazing!"

Here is a challenge for all of us: Next time you are tempted to fret, fear and make scary stories about your future, remember Pat's story, its lessons and its happy ending.

And So It Is!