I didn’t grow up in an overly demonstrative family. I don’t remember my parents ever saying to me, “I love you.” But the thing is, I never doubted their love for me. They didn’t have to say it. Instead, they showed me on a daily basis how much I meant to them.

I was shown in numerous ways – in the way they spoke to me, in the way I heard them talk about me, in the way they took care of me, and in the way they touched me.

The phrase “I love you” gets said with such casualness at times, that it is rendered meaningless and impotent. Such as, an automatic response in saying goodbye on the phone. The salutation at the end of an email or letter. The quickly said and-I-love-you-too, as if in a race to get to the obligatory response so that we can get on with our lives.

Words are sometimes inadequate when it comes to expressing love. More people than not find it difficult, and in some cases, impossible to say how they truly feel. So what else will work? It doesn’t take much. Give me a loving touch on the shoulder, a simple kindness or a heartfelt smile any day over the impersonal gesture of an expensive gift or flowers.

Don’t get me wrong. I love flowers. And not in a sensible, oh-aren’t-they-pretty kind of way, but in a rather fanatical kind of way. They jazz me to my very core just to look at them. Tupelo knows this, but in over three decades of being together, I can count on one hand the number of times he has given me flowers.

His style is more subtle. Instead of an occasional tsunami wave of garishness, I get small reassurances of his love on a daily basis, as if coming from a constant babbling brook. And after all these years, that is much more to my liking.

To make this life sweeter, all we need is just a little love around the edges to soften, protect, and make us feel good. It can come from friends, co-workers, children, family, life companions, Aunt Minnie or the mailman. It can be a tiny kiss, a tender hug, a good deed, or a “random act of kindness” from a stranger. I see them on the edge of my life as little bursts of light, firing like an endless string of firecrackers on a Chinese New Year. The spark they ignite in me makes me feel good.

If we love the world and the people in it, the world will love us back. If we embrace our place in the world, get ready to be embraced back. The trick is to tune into and notice the myriad ways we are shown. Feel good about it and then reciprocate in kind.

If we enjoy having love expressed around the edges of our life on a daily basis, chances are, the person next to us does too. Get crackin’ and see what happens.

A car passed us one day while Tupelo and I were driving across the southeastern desert of the U.S. in our motorhome, Bailey. As it zoomed by I caught a glimpse of the bumper sticker on its tail end. “Celebrate Diversity,” it read. “Ooh, I like that,” I said, and proceeded to have many miles of pleasure thinking it over.

I don’t know the driver’s reason for plastering this statement onto his bumper for the entire world to see, but I came up with a long list of my own. As a traveler, I agree wholeheartedly about celebrating the world’s diversity – its peoples, its languages, its customs, its different ways of looking at things, and the big one – its spirituality and many religions.

It seemed to be such a simple statement at first: Celebrate diversity.

Oh yes, let’s do that, shall we?

The deeper I thought about it, the more complicated it got. In this tumultuous time when the world is splitting apart because of the different ways we look at God and the opposing interpretations of religious teachings, the simple sentence isn’t as innocent as it first appears. Now we have to question our beliefs and see if we truly can celebrate how different some of the world’s peoples act in the name of God. One is waging war on infidels, the other on terrorists. It’s hard to draw a solid line between what is right and what is wrong and then decide which side we are on. Diversity is dividing us.

If we choose to not take a side, then yes, we can celebrate with a clear heart the diversity of the world in all of its guises and contradictions. But it’s not easy. It’s hard to stay objective and loving in the face of so much hate. But who said personal and spiritual growth would be easy? Not me.

And perhaps the tougher question: How do we celebrate the diversity in ourselves? How can we celebrate who we truly are and not become so judgmental it’s to our detriment, not to our enlightenment?

We are complicated creatures. Our emotional stew is made up of so many ingredients it has kept therapists’ couches warm for centuries. And our mental state? Oh man, I don’t even want to think about that. And there are so many conflicting philosophies and beliefs when it comes to our own personal spirituality we’re afraid we might die and go to hell before we find which is the right path to be walking on.

If we want to celebrate diversity in the world, we must first celebrate the diversity in ourselves. If we can, change what can’t be celebrated, embrace that which can’t be changed – for instance, what Dr. Carl Jung’s called our shadow. We are not all good and not all bad and when it comes to choosing sides, we need to be on our side, no matter what.

Bumper stickers are one thing, putting the sentiment into action is another.

Celebrate diversity. Oh yes, let’s do that, shall we?

It’s winter in Wyoming. The mercury in the thermometer has headed south, not to warmer climes but diving below zero into teeth-chattering cold. The clear mountain creek and bare limbed trees out our dining room window have been changing every day. The recent cold plays with the water as if its Play Dough. Taking advantage of the thaw-freeze-thaw cycle it rearranges the mounds of white on the exposed boulders, twists the ice that flows through and around them, and draws a white sheet over the running water as if it’s dying.

This is where I sit each morning to write, but the beauty outside the window continually lures me away from the computer screen. My artist eye tries to capture what my camera cannot. The scene stuns me with frigid, fragile beauty. The creek whispers a message, muffled by the ice and snow, so I sit for long periods of time just listening. Here’s what it tells me today.

The changing face of the creek shows what we do to ourselves when harsh outside conditions cause us to hide from others. When cruel words, unloving gestures, or tough experiences happen, we harden and close ourselves off to the world. We draw a sheet up over our emotions and cower underneath. We bury deep feelings, careful not to show too much. Our love becomes frozen, impossible to chisel from our hearts.

Then comes a warm touch, a sunny smile, an experience that makes us glow with pleasure. We thaw. Not much. But enough to let our true selves come up for air. Just like the appearance of the ice, we change with the circumstances, letting small patches of our always-flowing, inner being show when we feel safe. But things can change quickly. Harsh conditions can ambush us when we least expect it so we keep our cover ready.

Brave are the ones that disregard what others say or do and stay true to themselves no matter what. Their cover of ice is non-existent even with the toughest human interactions. They set themselves up to get ridiculed and teased. But their spirit is a strong running current, making it impossible for a hard cover of ice to form. They don’t cower or cover up. Their hearts stay open and accessible.

We should all live like this.

The trick is to not let outside conditions have such a profound effect on us. The stronger we get, the stronger our inner flow will become. The stronger our inner spirit becomes the less chance someone or something can change our personal reality. Ice will fail to encase our heart.

Tupelo and I watched a full grown mountain lion use the ice to cross the creek one winter. His tail trailed behind him, leaving a shallow trench in the 6” of freshly fallen snow. His muscles rippled, and then he jumped across a patch of open water to get to the opposite bank. Ice wasn’t a deterrent. He used the ice to his advantage and got to where he wanted to go. Good for him.

This morning, the creek peeks out at me from the encroaching ice in a game of hide and seek. It’s not whispering anymore. It’s laughing because it knows its true strength, its true beauty will never go away. It will always be there, flowing strong and steady. It will never let the white cover of ice smother it completely. It waits with patience for the eventual return of spring.

We can learn a lot from Mother Earth if we just listen to her. Like what she said to me today: keep your inner spirit flowing strong – no matter what.

Washington, DC – Metro Station.

On a cold January morning in 2007, the man with a violin played six
Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time approximately 2 thousand people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.

After 3 minutes . . . a middle-aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried to meet his schedule.

4 minutes later:

The violinist received his first dollar: a woman threw the money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk.

6 minutes:

A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.

10 minutes:

A 3-year old boy stopped but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time.

This natural curiosity and interest was demonstrated by several other children. Every parent, without exception, forced their children to move on quickly.

45 minutes:

The musician played continuously. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32.

1 hour:

He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world.

He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before, Joshua Bell sold out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100.

This is a true story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste, and people’s priorities.

The questions raised:

* In a common-place environment at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty?

* Do we stop to appreciate it?

* Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?

Possible conclusions reached from this experiment could be:

If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made . . . it makes you wonder:

Are we capable of recognizing talent, one person at a time? Or, do we need the approval of the masses first, and then simply go along with the herd and agree? Is social proof more important to us than our own personal experience?

How many other things in Life are we missing?

What other amazing experiences are right in front of us that we miss because we are too busy focusing on our preconceived “appointments?”

How many special persons pass us by and we do not MAKE ANY EFFORT TO get to know them?

How many other masters do we turn a deaf ear to?

Everyone loves to laugh (well, almost everyone) . . . so this message is a reminder that it’s good for us.

I wrote a song a while back to help me remember the wisdom of this favorite quote . . .

“Life is too important to be taken seriously.” – Oscar Wilde

Here’s a link to the song . . .

http://www.somemusicmatters.com/DescX.html#Anchor15

Here are a few great ideas about humor, and then an actual example of humor in action:

“Humor is by far the most significant activity of the human brain.” – Edward De Bono

“True humor is fun – it does not put down, kid, or mock. It makes people feel wonderful, not separate, different, and cut off. True humor has beneath it the understanding that we are all in this together.” – Hugh Prather

“A sense of humor is just common sense, dancing.” – Clive James

And now (drum roll please) an example of people wise enough to appreciate the humor in their everyday lives . . .

After every flight, UPS pilots fill out a form, called a ‘gripe sheet,’ which tells mechanics about problems with the aircraft. The mechanics correct the problems, document their repairs on the form, and then pilots review the gripe sheets before the next flight.

Here are some actual maintenance complaints submitted by UPS’ pilots and the solutions recorded by the aircraft mechanics.

(By the way, UPS is the only major airline that has never, ever, had an accident.)

PILOT: Left inside main tire almost needs replacement.
MECHANIC: Almost replaced left inside main tire.
*
PILOT: Test flight OK, except auto-land very rough.
MECHANIC: Auto-land not installed on this aircraft.
*
PILOT: Something loose in cockpit
MECHANIC: Something tightened in cockpit
*
PILOT: Dead bugs on windshield.
MECHANIC: Live bugs on back-order.
*
PILOT: Auto pilot in altitude-hold mode produces a 200 feet per minute descent…
MECHANIC: Cannot reproduce problem on ground.
*
PILOT: Evidence of leak on right main landing gear.
MECHANIC: Evidence removed.
*
PILOT: DME volume unbelievably loud.
MECHANIC: DME volume set to more believable level.
*
PILOT: Friction locks cause throttle levers to stick.
MECHANIC: That’s what friction locks are for.
*
PILOT: IFF inoperative in OFF mode.
MECHANIC: IFF always inoperative in OFF mode.
*
PILOT: Suspected crack in windshield.
MECHANIC: Suspect you’re right.
*
PILOT: Number 3 engine missing.
MECHANIC: Engine found on right wing after brief search
*
PILOT: Aircraft handles funny.
MECHANIC: Aircraft warned to be serious, straighten up, and fly right.
*
PILOT: Target radar hums.
MECHANIC: Reprogrammed target radar with lyrics.
*
PILOT: Mouse in cockpit.
MECHANIC: Cat installed.
*
PILOT: Noise coming from under instrument panel. Sounds like a midget pounding on something with a hammer.
MECHANIC: Took hammer away from midget.

Life is Too Important to Be Taken Seriously This is just plain fun . . . an unlikely love song and reminder of the importance of making it a point to deliberately live life in joy, reverance, and with a light-hearted spirit. A good sence of humor always seems to come in handy too! http://www.somemusicmatters.com/DescX.html#Anchor15 Celebrate Life Create your own personal celebration of life by your choices, rather than allowing life to be something that merely happens to you, or around you. http://www.somemusicmatters.com/DescHB.html#Anchor2 Preacher and the Bear I always appreciated the refreshing attitude of faith coupled with a healthy attitude of self-reliance demonstrated by this adventurous preacher’s style of prayer. http://www.somemusicmatters.com/DescAnth.html#Anchor11 Stuff, Stuff, Stuff, Stuff, Stuff About all the stuff you’ve been keeping that’s not good enough to actually use, but it’s way too good to throw away. http://www.somemusicmatters.com/DescAnth.html#Anchor4 You Gotta Have Fun Our moments are fleeting . . . and finite. Too few to squander on “bad news”. We must steer our attention deliberately in order to attract the kind of life we were born to live. http://www.somemusicmatters.com/DescAnth.html#Anchor20 Songs by Tupelo
The Six Mistakes of Man We share the journey, even though each journey is unique. It’s encouraging to know others are also interested in the mysteries of life. It’s inspiring to see others dedicated to living life to the fullest, in spite of the fact that humanity has been making some of the same mistakes for centuries. Your Passion as Your Compass Allow your passions to stretch their wings and the direction of your life could surprise you – in a good way. Celebrate life with passion! Being Present through Sensuality The idea is to occasionally turn off the senses in order to better tune into the aliveness that lies beyond them. The realization that there is something beyond the world of the five senses can provide an “aha” experience, especially at first. With the senses turned off (or even turned down), there remains a vibrant sense of aliveness – the world of feeling and the realm of being. Articles by Tupelo
Why wait for inspiration to strike? Be proactive, and go get it. Better yet, this newsletter brings it to you. “Inspired on Purpose” newsletter by Tupelo Kenyon contains articles, reviews and resources to supercharge your personal development, inspiration, productivity, abundance and joy. FREE e-book Instant download – when you subscribe. Personal Development Supercharger 101 Tips and Techniques by Tupelo Kenyon It’s FREE. Subscribe now. Enter name and email address below: Name: Email:
Privacy policy: Your email address is secure. I will not sell, rent or trade your information to anyone for any reason. Period. – Tupelo Kenyon

Hi {!name},

We all make mistakes. Or do we?

In life, we have plenty of should-have-dones, and if-I-had-only-knowns, but do we really make mistakes? No, I don’t think so.

Let me explain: A very close sister-friend of mine has had marriages that ended in nasty divorces. Obviously, this saddens her, and unfortunately, she feels unlovable and a failure because of them. We have had many conversations over the years where she bemoans the huge mistakes of marrying these men. I listen because she needs me to, but I don’t agree that they were mistakes.

I look at it like this: There are no mistakes, just hard lessons.

When our choices turn out to be less than what we wanted, it was no mistake we brought these tough experiences onto ourselves. It happened because we were meant to learn that lesson.

Make no mistake, I’m not saying that some choices don’t knock us on our butt. These are the ones that scratch the diamond who we are, but eventually, after the hurt subsides, we are polished because of them. The experience fine-tunes us, and hopefully, makes us smarter. Tall order sometimes, I know. But if we grasp the true meaning behind the raw emotions, hopefully we don’t have to repeat what isn’t for our greater good.

The harder the lesson the more we can glean from it. It may take awhile to lose the heavy emotions and gain a new perspective, but if we’re patient, there will come a time when we can grasp the enormous gift hidden inside. This is key.

But the first step is to believe we never make mistakes. Instead, we can look at it like this: Hard lessons catapult us to being the best we can be. We’re not perfect, don’t claim to be, but we’re expanding our perception to try and see the good in our choices – whatever that may be.

It’s New Year’s Day and we’ve parked Bailey, our RV, out here in the desert. There are a few other road warriors scattered like dice across the cactus and brittlebush but they are far enough away to make it feel like we are here in this arid vastness by ourselves. I’ve found a good spot to write in my journal this morning, out in the kind sun but sheltered from the cruel wind. Yesterday, on New Year’s Eve, I filled my latest journal with one last entry, and then put it away. Today, my journal is a new one. I write #60 in the top corner of the inside cover and turn to the first page, all crisp and new like a freshly picked apple.

The page glows white in the glaring desert sun, blank of thoughts, ideas and aspirations. It looks like a magic page – as if I could write anything I want and it will come true. I try to focus, but I’m dizzy from all the possibilities as my imagination runs wild. I’m an unsupervised kid in an amusement park. I take up my pen and smooth the paper down with my other hand. I am literally turning a new page for the coming year.

Chances are you’re not reading this on the new year. But let’s pretend for a moment, it is. A new year can start at any time, like right now. Especially right now.

Okay, so right now is the first day of the year, agreed? If so, hopefully interest and introspection spike and we immediately evaluate our life. Are we happy? Do we like the direction our life is heading? What can we do to better ourselves? We assess where we stand and look to see if our next step is moving forward, is stagnant, or trying to step backward.

It’s a good day of the year to be completely honest with ourselves – tough to do but important if we are going to realize the changes that need to be made.

Today we bask in possibilities. Standing on the rim of this coming year, we dream of the best possible outcomes. We dream our dreams coming true. If the past year was difficult, hope dances on the horizon.

Today’s the day that we can consciously turn the light on to illuminate what we want most. Light it up from the inside. Everything seems alive, all rushing toward us as fast as the speed of thought.

I write on my magic page, my heart pumping. I’m thrilled to know everything I write is coming into my life at exactly the right time. It’s like writing a letter to Santa and he is nodding kindly and taking notes.

I suggest you do the same. The universe is listening. Happy New Year.

Recently, we were at a holiday gathering. The house was immaculate. The food superb. The guest list fascinating. The hostess was gracious and beautiful with everything under control and apparently running smoothly.

After dinner I found myself relaxing at a table with a few women, the hostess included. While a band of musicians were tuning up for an impromptu jam, a close friend of hers leaned over, put her hand on the hostess’s arm and commented what a wonderful party it was.
“I had a lot of help,” she said, deflecting the compliment with practiced ease.

This was not the first time I had heard her do this. Remembering the guided tour through the newly built house earlier, Tupelo commented how tasteful it was.
“We still have quite a bit to do,” she said, waving his impression away and turning to go up the stairs.

Later I heard someone congratulate her on receiving a major award in her profession.
“Oh, it wasn’t any big deal.”
But it was. She got major publicity and recognition, and rightly so. It proved she was exceptional in her profession and was honored for it.

I wondered why a talented woman like her was not able to accept a well-meaning compliment. What made her so uncomfortable? Did she think she would come off boastful or egotistical?

Another experience taught me how giving and receiving compliments could be perceived differently. While attending a good friend’s birthday party, the guests gathered in a circle, arm in arm. In a spontaneous gesture, one of the guests told her how much he appreciated her and how grateful he was that she was his friend. One by one, each in turn, told my friend the difference she had made in their life, myself included.
I was amazed and amused watching her accepting each comment, each heartfelt admission, every extremely personal confession. I thought she would crumble from so much gratitude and love, or try to dodge, duck and tumble out of the way of all the intense attention. But she didn’t.
Somehow she accepted each person’s love and radiated it back to them. There was no ego involved. It was beautiful to witness.

Here is the basic difference between these two women: My friend didn’t deflect any of the personal comments made to her, and by doing so, she honored the giver.

For many, it takes quite a bit of fortitude to voice an opinion, express their true feelings, or tell someone how much they care. Deflecting these admissions, for whatever reason, dishonors the giver and leaves the compliment hanging, useless and impotent.

So here is what I suggest if you are like the talented hostess: Next time someone gives you a compliment, smile a heartfelt smile and say a simple, “Thank you.” That’s all you have to do. You will honor the giver by doing this and you will both feel better for it.

Open yourself up to hear what others have to say about you and love will shine through everything you do.

Thank you.

At a personal development retreat, a hundred people put their name in a basket in the hope of asking a spiritual leader a question. It could be spiritual, personal, or physical – there were no limits placed on the kinds of questions one could ask. I wrote my name on a small piece of paper, but hesitated before putting it in. I was surprised to realize that I didn’t have a burning question to ask, and thought by putting my name in the pot, it would add to the odds against someone else who did.

My friend was one. She had many questions to ask and struggled to find just one should her name be called. But it wasn’t called. That evening, away from the others, we talked about her question: “When you ask for guidance, how do you know if it comes from ego or true insight?”

Good question.

I have had the opportunity many times to speak on the topic of how to recognize our inner voice – how to tap into our well of wellbeing and find guidance from our true source. You could say that it is a pet subject of mine. It’s not because I have the answer, it’s because I’m fascinated by the question.

Simply put, this is how I know the difference when it is my ego shouting to be heard or it is my true self offering a guiding hand: I ask myself these questions.

1) Does the answer serve just myself or is it for the good of the whole? Ego is selfish, having a very limited perspective, trapped inside the mind. Our inner self is not selfish and small-minded because its perspective is from a higher plane of existence – unlimited and vast. Be honest with yourself. Ego hates it when you are.

2) When I think of acting on this guidance, what emotions does it provoke? Am I terrified or elated? Overwhelmed or excited? Resigned or exuberant? Is my heart closed or open? Our emotions are true mileposts of where our actions are taking us. We should notice and listen to them more often. True insight would never ask us to do something against our better good. Ego would.

It’s important to recognize whether it is ego or true insight when we ask for guidance.

But above all, we must remember to keep asking.

I’m in Greece. I’ve just turned 20, and I’m about to have my fortune read. I didn’t go willingly. I had no interest what-so-ever of knowing my future because I was having a great time traveling the world on a backpack and a prayer, and I didn’t need some gypsy telling me where my path was taking me. I wanted to find out for myself. It’s like Christmas morning – Why would I want to know what was in my gifts and spoil the surprise?

I also innately knew that our momentum into future events can change at any moment because of free will. I was flexing my free will muscles on a daily basis. They were becoming resilient and strong.

But I have to admit, I was a tiny bit intrigued. A fortune teller in Greece … how could I pass up this experience? And like I said, I was up for surprises.

My first surprise came when we didn’t walk down a creepy path to find a secluded hut in the dark hills, but took a bus to a middle class suburb of Athens. No bead curtains. No crystal balls and candles. No scarves and long skirts, heavy make-up or enchantment. She was a housewife. A plainly-dressed, American woman living off-base with her Army husband.

We sat around her Formica table under florescent lights and drank dense Greek coffee in little cups. When we were done, the thick grounds settled to the bottom. She flipped the cups upside down on each of the saucers and then talked about the latest presidential election.

My friend, Laura, a worldly woman from California and who has seen it all at the rip old age of 22, was first. The fortune teller looked at the mass of coffee grounds in her cup and talked in generalities. I don’t remember one thing she said to her. I just remember what she said to me.

She flipped over my cup, looked inside, gasped and turned it back over. She looked to her husband for guidance, her hand over her mouth. I stood up abruptly, my chair falling behind me. I pushed my hands out to her as if to stop an ill wind from forming.

“I don’t want to know!” I said.

Laura reached up and touched my arm.

“Janey,” she said in a soft tone, “This is just bullshit.”

She knew me well. She knew how much I trusted her. I took a deep breath and sat back down.

“I see death,” the woman said softly. “And soon.”

My mind quickly scanned the faces of my family back in the States. My heart clenched. Laura put her hand on my arm again. She squeezed. I got the message, and took another deep breath to calm down. I began to chant silently, this-is-bullshit, this-is-bullshit.

“It’s major, and it’s close.” The woman acted as if her words were rebelling to come out. I didn’t want to know specifics, but she didn’t let on that she knew any. I was relieved when we finally got out of there.

I wish I could say I believed Laura and not the fortune-telling woman, but my mind replayed her words over and over. Until one day, insight hit, and I laughed in the face of death.

This fortune telling episode happened during the first year of traveling when I had escaped the conventions of being a predictable hometown girl to find my own way. I was learning everyday about myself. It was shocking and thrilling and scary. I was exploring my freedom, my emotions, my inner voice. It was a brand new world. The old me had died. This death was major and it was close.

How about that? The old gal was right after all. What a nice surprise.