This Has Been Hard

It's kind of amazing to think that we've been in the throes of a pandemic for over a year now.  The last year and a half has seen the world turn topsy-turvy in so many ways, from giving us a subtle sense of dread at the beginning, when things were going so very badly in Italy and Spain, to the deep sense of loss and unsureness that we've felt as we've seen more than 500,000 people die in the United States alone--and 2,300,000 (and counting) worldwide.  So many mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, friends, colleagues, neighbors simply aren't among us any more, though there was good reason to think that they would continue to bless us with their presence for years more.

No matter how we look at it, the past year has been extremely difficult for most of us.  People have lost family members, have lost jobs, have lost hope, have lost savings.  We've been under a constant barrage of pressure and rules, from social distancing to mask wearing to customer limits in stores and restaurants.  We've been worried about our loved ones, worried about our jobs, worried about getting sick ourselves and facing the debilitating effects of a brutal virus--up to and including death.

Sometimes, though, my mind tricks me into thinking that life is going on as normal.  This happens even though pretty much all the rules have changed.  I start to wonder why I feel so tired, and I start to think that I'm overreacting to certain things.  I start to think of how nice it would be to just pretend that there's really no pandemic, that I can stop wearing my mask and hang around with people like before, and that there's no need to worry about going to restaurants or stores or cafes or anywhere else that I feel like going.

But then I read the headlines from places other than where I live, and they're not good.  There are still people dying miserable and painful and frightening deaths that they didn't need to die; there are still people who are catching the disease and potentially facing years of painful and debilitating symptoms in their future.  And I know that this isn't over yet, even if it isn't nearly as severe a problem as it was a year ago.

I've run a few ultra-marathons, from 80 to 100 miles.  And believe me, I got tired long before I reached the finish line.  And after 90 miles of running, no one in the world would have faulted me for giving up and saying I was done (heck, the same can be said for after 40 miles, or after 60).  But I still had some distance left--I wasn't done with the experience.  If I wanted to finish what I started, I still had a couple of hours of running ahead of me, and I didn't want to give up.

It's an apt analogy, though the idea of giving up now on the safety measures against Covid-19 is far more drastic--giving up now could get me very sick, or even worse (in my eyes) cause me to get someone else sick, possibly even causing their death.  That's something that I'm not willing to risk.

Allow yourself to be tired.  Allow yourself to be exhausted, even.  Give yourself some very real treats to celebrate having come this far and having given up this much.  Don't berate yourself for feeling exhaustion--very few of us had any preparation at all for this type of experience.  But please try to stay the course, if not for your sake, then for the sakes of people whom you've never met, who one day may otherwise be exposed to the virus that you may end up carrying inadvertently if you're not careful with what you do and how you do it.

Take good care of yourself, and give yourself a break.  You're tired, too, and that's okay.  Allow yourself to be so.

What I Hope for This New Year

The calendar has renewed itself once more:  we have twelve months ahead of us that will belong to one measured unit of time, another year in our lives.  We're going to see winter, spring, summer, fall, and winter once more in the next year, and we're going to experience pain and joy and love and heartbreak and exciting times and boredom.  We're going to be happy and we'll be sad; we'll go through grief and joy, sickness and health.

But all these things happen every year.  Year after year, our lives follow a course that in many ways we have no control over, no way to change.  But because they are our lives, though, we do have opportunities to make sure that other things also happen, things over which we have a bit of control.

There are tons of things that I'd love to see happen in our next year.  No more wars, no more poverty, no more Covid, no more violence against the helpless--etc., etc., etc.  But it's important that I realize that these things are beyond the control of individuals, and if I want to focus on things that I may have a bit of control over, then I may find a bit of success in this year.

I also need to keep in mind that I need to focus on me when I think about what I want to see happen in this new year.  As soon as I start focusing on what I want other people to do, I'm trying to exert control over their lives--and I simply don't have any control at all over the lives of other human beings.  I'm setting myself up for tons of disappointment if my desire is to see change in others.

On the other hand, if I choose to do a certain sort of work to accomplish a goal with others, then I may want to hope for change in others.  Perhaps I hope to see more people wear masks in public places, and I start to volunteer for an organization that's trying to educate people on the importance of masks during the epidemic.  Then it would make complete sense for me to want to see change in others, wouldn't it?  As a teacher, I may want to see my students improve their writing--and in that case, it's my responsibility to try to bring about change in others.

It's also good to keep in mind that there's a difference between hoping for something and expecting something.  I can hope for more people to wear masks, but if I don't do anything to try to bring that to pass, then I shouldn't be disappointed if it doesn't happen.  And that's okay--I can still hope.  I can hope that the politicians in Washington do what's right, and I can hope that the people who work in our hospitals can get a bit of relief from the pandemic.  According to some schools of thought, the mere act of hoping is sending positive energy out into the world that may, indeed, contribute to the outcomes we hope for.  And hoping for positive outcomes is a way of sharing our positivity instead of being dragged down into the negativity that so many others show so often.

The trick is to detach ourselves from the need for the results that we desire, and allowing for the results that actually happen without letting them affect our spirit or our peace of mind.

All that said, here are some of the things that I hope for this year:

I hope that more people become willing to wear masks and practice social distancing, so that we may see the number of deaths actually decrease rather than grow, so that those who work in the medical field may get a bit of a break from the horrible situations in which they find themselves now.  And I hope that the vaccines work well and help us to slow the spread of the virus and keep more people from dying in such an awful way, before their time.

I hope that we have some clear logic and reason and compassion coming from Washington this year, and that more of our politicians become concerned about the people they represent rather than their own careers.

I hope that we see much more rain in areas that are dealing with drought conditions all over the world.

I hope that we see the end to the splitting up of families by our immigration services, and that the world over we see an end to the refugee camps that keep people from getting on with their lives for so long.

I hope that the businesses and services that have been affected so strongly by the measures put in place because of the pandemic are able to recover well and move into the future in very positive ways.

I hope that more people decide to spread love and compassion rather than anger, fear, and divisiveness.

I hope that in my life, I'm able to continue to grow and to learn, and that I'm able to share that growth and learning with others, passing it on as much as I can.

I hope that I do all that I can to stay healthy and to stay in good shape in order to stay that way.  The better I take care of my body, the less I'll be affected by many of the minor medical issues that are avoidable.

I hope that more people realize the harm that they do to others in their lives, and do all they can to stop doing so, whether that be spousal abuse, child abuse, or the lack of consideration for their neighbors or co-workers.

I hope that we all have plenty of good times, especially when we're able to get together safely in groups once more, and enjoy each other's company.

I hope that we don't lose the many important lessons that this pandemic has taught us--let's not just go back immediately to the "norm," especially if there are parts of that norm that are negative or harmful.

And I hope that you have a beautiful year in spite of the many challenges that we face.  Let's face those challenges and develop our courage and optimism in the face of a huge obstacle, so that they may stay strong always.

http://livinglifefully.com/hope.html

2020: A Year of Adversity and Important Lessons

As the year 2020 draws to a close, I keep seeing and hearing people express the relief that they feel because this year is almost over.  It seems that pretty much everyone sees 2020 as a terrible year, one that deserves to end and one that they're going to be glad to move out of on January 1.  In many ways, I agree with this sentiment, especially when I consider the horrible toll that the year has taken in the form of Covid-related deaths.  So many people have been killed by this virus who would have had much more life ahead of them otherwise; so many people have lost loved ones who now won't be there to contribute to their lives in any way at all, except through memories.  And all of our lives have been turned upside-down to some extent or another, especially financially.  The toll has been horrific, and I understand why most of us want this year to end.

I won't be sad to see 2020 move into history.  But I know that it's not the year's "fault," per se--rather, it's simply that many things have happened in the same time span that we use to define a year.  And the first few months of 2021 promise to be worse--as far as the Coronavirus and the death toll from the pandemic are concerned--than 2020 was, so it's not like we're going to move into an immediate reprieve simply because we're going to start writing a different number in the spot where the year goes.  We're going to be facing very difficult challenges in the months ahead while we wait for enough vaccine to be produced to allow us to vaccinate virtually everyone (except for those who deny the vaccine, for whatever reason).

And though it can be difficult to see, the truth is that 2020 has given us some gifts of its own, lessons that we have learned over the last twelve months that we never would have learned had it not been for the pandemic.  We've learned about the fragility of our economic systems, as well as their strengths.  We've learned about our personal resilience and strategies for building it, as well as our personal weaknesses, and hopeful ways of compensating for those.  We've learned more about what loss is and how to cope with it, whether that be loss of a loved one, loss of a job, loss of certain freedoms and habits and routines, loss of norms, loss of a sense of security, or loss of control over our own lives and decisions.

But we have a choice:  Do we focus on the losses, or do we focus on what we've learned in our attempts to deal with those losses?  Will we look back on 2020 and remember only what has gone wrong, or will we look back with the realization that we've grown and developed as human beings because of the adversity that we've been forced to face?  I know that in my life, I've learned an awful lot this year that I probably never would have learned without the "help" of a pandemic.

For example, I've learned to be more comfortable in my isolation.  I've always been a bit of an introvert and I've always been comfortable being on my own, but the forced isolation at home this year has reinforced many of the thoughts and feelings that I've always had about the values of solitude.  These days, I don't really have the option of going out to be among people without putting myself at an unknown level of risk of contracting the virus, so I choose solitude over company, and the fact that my solitude makes the most sense right now helps me to enjoy it more and to make it more productive.

Both my wife and I have learned about the importance of putting personal safety above material realities.  When the school I was working at announced that they were going to open in August with all of the students in the classrooms, with no effort to follow any sort of hybrid model or online model, both of us knew that the risks of me keeping the job--and being exposed to 25-30 students every day in a small classroom with no windows that opened--were far too high for us, especially at my age.  So I looked for a job elsewhere and found one in a district where they were going to open with a hybrid model even though the number of cases in the area was extremely low.  We both were willing to risk our financial well-being in order to stay safe, and we found that taking that risk put us in a completely different life situation.  We now own a very comfortable house in a community that has very little traffic, a low population, and tons of wilderness all around to explore without having to drive for hours to find wilderness.

One lesson has been very difficult to learn--I've learned just how many people are willing to be selfish by not considering the safety of their fellow human beings at all, as they refuse to wear masks in public places even when the wearing of masks has been mandated and is basically law.  The danger is very obvious--with the number of asymptomatic people catching and spreading the virus, we can never be sure just who has it and who doesn't.  I may feel completely healthy and feel that I couldn't spread anything because I'm not sick, but the reality is that I can still spread the virus and cause others to be sick--or even die--no matter how healthy I feel.  This is why we wear masks, and the refusal to wear a mask is simply a slap in the face to everyone else with whom we come in contact.

I've learned a lot about patience, too.  There are times when I just want to stop wearing the mask, when I want to do something "normal" like go to a movie or restaurant and be relaxed in the company of others.  The inability to be completely relaxed, though, makes our situation much more difficult to be patient with--we see the term "fatigue" being used a lot these days.  "Compliance fatigue" and "moral fatigue" are just two of the terms that I've seen used, and they make complete sense.  When we get fatigued, it's easier to lose patience and make decisions that make little sense or that are even dangerous.  It's important to stay patient even while fatigued, and to make decisions that will help me to stay as safe and as healthy as possible during these difficult times.

On the positive side, I've seen a lot of people who are caring and kind and considerate who are keeping their good humor and who are doing their best to share their kindness with others during the pandemic.  I very much admire these people, and I hope to grow into a person who is like them one day.  They're willing and able to take risks and be kind to others in these difficult times.  As Fred Rogers told us his mother told him, "Look for the helpers.  You will always find people who are helping."  It's easy to forget just how risky helping can be, and how difficult it may be for people to help others, yet there they are, taking the risks and helping all they can.

I've also watched others learning lessons that are very important, such as budgeting their money in new ways, making changes that are important for their safety and well-being, caring more for others when they might have been exposed to the virus, staying isolated when they would much rather be doing things with friends, etc., etc.  I know of people who work all day and then come home and undress in their garage, heading straight for the shower, not being willing to expose their families to even the possibility of contracting the virus that may be on their clothing.  Others have become extremely conscientious about washing their hands regularly or using hand sanitizer.  Many have learned the value of working remotely, and many companies have been willing to reconfigure their job expectations to allow people to work from home.

The bottom line, I think, is that there have been many important lessons embedded in this so-called "horrible" year.  It's our choice, though, whether we learn those lessons and make changes in our lives based on what we've learned, or simply complain about all the terrible things we've had to go through this year, not allowing this year's lessons a chance to make our lives deeper and richer.  The truth of the matter is that human beings tend to learn more from adversity than we do from prosperity, and we certainly have had bucketloads of adversity thrown our way this year.  Personally, while I'll be glad to see us move into a new year, I'll always be grateful for all of the lessons that 2020 has brought to me, and I hope that I'll be able to live up to those lessons by making my life fuller and richer because of the wonderful lessons that I've learned.

http://livinglifefully.com/adversity4.htm

Hope

'Tis the season of hope, in many ways.  The Christmas season shows us the hope that people are willing to have--hope that love can dominate our lives, that we can find peaceful methods to use and paths to walk on, that we can exist together in harmony in the spirit of unity.  Of course, most of these hopes have not come to fruition on a global scale, but we can reach them more easily on an individual level if we allow ourselves to follow those hopes and do what we can to make them come true.

Why is Christmas the season of hope?  Perhaps it's because a child from humble beginnings was able to teach so many people about the importance of their own lives, about the ways of love, about the true power that people have to affect their own lives by sharing love and compassion with one another.  After all, "love one another" was one of his greatest messages, and one of his most dominant.

I believe very strongly that if we're to have hope, it must be firmly grounded in love.  I may hope that my life will change if I work to make it change, but if I'm not sharing love in my life, will any changes be worthwhile?  If I hope for a better life and I get a higher-paying job, have my hopes come true if I'm also now dealing with unbearable amounts of stress and I'm no longer able to spend quality time with my family?  Sometimes we allow outside indicators like money tell us that our hopes have been realized, but it seems to me that if a hope comes true and lowers the quality of our lives, then it wasn't the best thing to hope for, after all.

So that gives us a second element of hope that's important, and it's the subject of a very common saying in English--"be careful of what you hope for" (aka, "be careful of what you wish for").

In my life, I've hoped for a lot of things.  Most of them haven't come to pass, like peace in our times, like better living conditions for people in this world (and in this country, even), like an end to the partisan bickering that keeps our elected officials from accomplishing positive things that they were elected to accomplish (infrastructure, anyone?).  In fact, many of these things have gotten worse, so my hopes have been dashed over and over.

And in my own rather powerless state as a teacher, my own contributions to bringing these hopes to fruition have been rather minimal--I've cast my votes, I've shared my opinions and thoughts, I've donated to what I've believed to be worthy causes--and it seems rather ineffective, given the success rate of my hopes.

But that said, my entire profession of teaching is based on hope, isn't it?  I teach certain things to 14-year-olds or 19-year-olds with the hope that those things will be relevant and useful to them--and the rest of the world--their while lives long.  I hope that what I teach may help them to craft wonderful lives out of the situations and gifts that they've been given.  I see very little effect of my teachings in the short term--my hope is that the long-term effects will be worthwhile, and that they'll affect my students and the other people in their lives, in positive ways.

We do need to distinguish between wishes and hopes, of course.  If I say in a casual way that I hope you have a good weekend, then I'm basically saying, "I wish you a nice weekend."  On the other hand, if you're going through difficult times and you're incredibly stressed out and you need some rest and rejuvenation, then I most definitely can hope that your weekend is a good one for you, in all ways.

Sometimes it's hard to be a hopeful person when we so many bad things going on in the world, so many people treating each other horridly.  Many of us seem to be content to hope that the bad things don't happen to us, and that the bad people don't come into our lives.  But we can also hope that these bad things stop happening to others, too, and with that hope we can practice spreading love--for it's a well-known truth that people who feel loved are also more likely to feel hope, for they have a reference point in their lives (the love) that tells them that their hopes aren't wasted time or effort.

What do you hope for?  Peace on earth?  Then practice peace with your neighbors and loved ones.  Fair treatment for all?  Then treat everyone fairly.  More opportunities for all?  Then help the young people in your life to develop skills and talents that will open the doors to more opportunities for them.  We can work towards what we hope for.  We can't always see the positive effects of our efforts because sometimes they take years to manifest themselves, but if we know that we're contributing to the love in this world, our efforts will be worthwhile whether we see our hopes coming closer to fruition or not.

Perhaps during this Christmas season, it would be nice to take a bit of time and reflect upon our own hopes--what do we hope, and why do we hope these things?  And we can see in the hopes of the season--especially the "peace on earth, goodwill towards all" part--just how important hope is to us, and just how nice it may be to be working our ways towards the hope that is a tremendous part of ourselves.  Let's let that hope out of the deep recesses where we store it and allow it to affect our words, our thoughts, and our actions.

Hope arouses, as nothing else can arouse, a passion
for the possible.

William Sloan Coffin, Jr.

http://livinglifefully.com/hope.html

Be Good!

Always remember, we all have our own opinions and beliefs. We have different ways in dealing with life’s troubles and joys. To survive our differences without hurting each other is what goodness is all about.  -Dodinsky


Of course, 'tis the season to be good because you definitely want Santa Claus to leave you something, don't you?  This is the season when we barter goodness for toys and treats, when we admit that we're more willing to be good when we're promised rewards for our goodness than when our goodness is simply goodness, with no recognition and no rewards.

That's not a social critique, of course--rather, it's an observation of how we behave sometimes.  I like to recognize things like this because it helps me to consider just what it would mean to me if I were never to try to be good or do good simply for rewards--but still filled my life and acted in the spirit of good for the sake of goodness itself, with no thought at all about any sort of return.

And even more importantly, what would it mean if we were to redefine just what goodness is?  I like this particular definition of the word, for it speaks to our willingness to be civil to each other, to treat each other well no matter how different we may see the world and react to it.  We can do good by sharing gifts and giving things and helping others in material ways, of course, but what about accepting one another fully and unconditionally, as long as the other person isn't doing things that harm others (I'm never going to be accepting of any way of living that includes doing harm to others as a major element of itself).

How does my desire to spread goodness in the world help if I'm not quite sure what goodness is?  Not having a clear idea may cause me to miss many opportunities to spread and to be good, and it may cause me to mistakenly cause harm in certain situations.  If I think it's a good thing to criticize someone because I think they need to learn a certain lesson, I may cause harm when they see my criticism as something else.  Criticism, after all, is simply a message that someone else needs to change something that they're doing, an implication that what they're doing is wrong.  But perhaps it's not wrong at all, but just different.  After all, who am I to say what's right and what's wrong for anyone else?

I believe that's what Dodinsky is getting at with the words, "To survive our differences without hurting each other."  You are you and I am I.  We have our own ways of looking at the world, our own realities, and they may not often match up.  They don't have to match up.  When you tell me that you believe in something that I don't believe in, we don't have to become enemies just because of a disagreement.  I don't have to hurt you by criticizing you because I disagree with you.  We can make it through life being at odds with one another, as long as we're willing to respect our differences and each other.

(This can be very difficult when one person espouses racist or otherwise hate-filled beliefs.  Then we have to ask ourselves if maintaining a relationship would be worth it, or if we would be compromising our own integrity by accepting another person's hatred.  It's a very difficult question to face, and even more difficult to arrive at an acceptable conclusion.  As I get older, I get less tolerant of other people's intolerance, and I find that I don't want their hatred to be a part of my life, and I'm more than willing to break an acquaintanceship or friendship in order to maintain my own inner peace and integrity.)

I want to be good.  I want to spread goodness.  But I have to keep in mind that I can't do so if I'm trying to change others with my idea of "goodness."  It's important to allow for our differences if we're going to share what's truly good in our hearts.  No goodness can be spread where we harm others, and no amount of rationalization can change the fact that our perspective isn't necessarily the "right" one.  You be true to yourself, and I'll be true to myself, and somewhere there in the middle we'll find a beautiful field of grass and wildflowers where we can sit down and enjoy a beautiful time together, without harming each other even in the slightest.  And goodness is where this time will begin, and where it will end.

More thoughts and ideas on goodness

Things Are Not That Great Right Now. . . and What Shall We Learn from That?

 We're living through very difficult times right now.  Most of that has to do with the pandemic and the fear of an early, painful death that will definitely take many of us, and that's a very real fear to have--no one knows just who's going to contract the virus, and we don't know just who's going to die and who's going to recover.   So we're living with our fears from day to day, and after many months of doing so, it's getting tiring.  Most of us are experiencing some form of fatigue or another, to varying degrees.

Add to this the fact that many people have lost their jobs or are experiencing times of want because their incomes have dropped significantly.  Add to this also the fact that many people have lost loved ones in one of the worst ways possible--they've died alone in hospital rooms, unable to have any visitors to comfort them because of the risk of spreading the virus even further.  And should we add the incredibly divisive and hate-filled election that we've just experienced in this country?  And the isolation that we've all had to experience, not being able to spend time with our loved ones as much as we normally would?  We can't even go over to friends' houses for a cup of coffee any more, or invite someone over for dinner, as long as we're trying to be truly safe.

Personally, one of the most important things that's affecting me is the disappointment that I feel when I see people who don't care enough for their fellow human beings to try even in the slightest ways to keep them safe from the virus, refusing to wear masks, refusing to social distance, even threatening and mocking people who are trying to be safe.  The disappointment I feel is profound, even if I do recognize that these people are coming from a place of fear that I simply don't feel, so I can't truly understand it.


There are not so many lessons in glad times.
Adversity is by far the better teacher.
Adversity will be part of almost all our lives.
So it is not in escaping adversity,
but in answering it, that our character is defined.
-Christopher Warren


We are living through possibly the most stressful period of most of our lives.  I do realize that many people have gone through more difficult times, experiencing significant health problems, times at war as soldiers, being refugees from countries that are too dangerous to live in, and many, many other forms of adversity that most of us will not experience.  But as far as global issues are concerned, our current times have dealt us all significant blows and kept us stressed out for a very long time.

The question is this, of course:  What are we going to do with this adversity?  How are we going to answer it?  How can we not just recognize some of the lessons that it's bringing us, but actually learn those lessons and use them to help us to make our lives better?  What can we learn from the isolation that we're experiencing?  What can we learn from the people who refuse to take any safety measures to protect themselves and others from the virus?  What can we learn from the "other side" of the political spectrum, those people who disagree with us and call us names and mock us just because of that disagreement?

I'm telling my students (most of whom are high school freshmen) that what they're learning from their experiences these days is going to make them much more resilient than their predecessors ever were, and they're learning this lesson at a very young age.  When they get to college or start their careers and certain challenges arise, they're going to be able to say, "Heck, this is nothing compared to the year I spent doing school from home."

This is something that I can feel myself, because when many things happen to me, I say to myself, "This is nothing compared to the Army."  It's all a matter of perspective, in some ways, and if we use difficult times to learn valuable lessons, life can become very rich, indeed.  Of course, my four years in the Army were voluntary, but that fact doesn't change the reality of the situation--they were difficult, challenging years that taught me a lot about myself, life, and living.  I finished my service as a more patient person who was more appreciative of many of the things that we tend to take for granted in life, such as the ability to choose whatever clothes I wish to wear in the morning.

So what can we learn from these times of adversity?  First of all, I think that we can learn about the values of isolation and solitude, even if our isolation is rather forced--and perhaps because the isolation is forced.  Most of us would not choose to spend so much time alone in our homes, even though that time can be very healthy.  When we learn that we don't need constant affirmation from others, we learn to be satisfied with ourselves and what we do.  A day spent alone at home can help us to regroup and recharge, rather than putting ourselves in situations that cause us to be pulled in many different directions by the people we spend time with.  Most of us would have given up after a few days of isolation, but the extended version of isolation that many of us are having to deal with allows us to get more used to it more, and to start seeing aspects of it that are more positive, aspects that don't make themselves obvious until weeks or months have passed.

We can also practice compassion.  Personally, I strongly dislike wearing a mask, but I know that I wear one to protect other people from me, so to speak, so I wear one whenever I'm in a situation in which I have contact with others.  This is especially important to me because I teach at a high school, and I never have any idea what kinds of situations my students have been in.  I know that even if I contract the virus, I may be asymptomatic, or I may be in the stage in which I'm still showing no symptoms, but am contagious, and that mask that I'm wearing is supposed to keep the virus that I'm exhaling in my breath from spreading a long distance.

I also want to learn about understanding other people's feelings during these trying times.  People are nervous, afraid, hesitant, defiant, angry, and many other things these days--and it's super easy to judge them for those feelings.  But rather than judge them, I want to try to understand them.  After all, my feelings may seem odd to other people, too, and I would very much appreciate it if someone else took the time to understand where I'm coming from rather than judging me outright.  If I can understand other people's feelings and not try to fix their problems for them, I may be able to be a good listener and help someone else to cope with some of the negative emotions that they're going through.

We can also learn from watching other people's mistakes.  We can see the outbreaks that result from people refusing to adhere to some of our new-found mandates such as mask-wearing and social distancing.  I've always been one to learn from other people's negative actions and results, and now we have a chance to witness a whole bunch of mistakes from a wide variety of people--and hopefully put those lessons into practice, either now or later.  Personally, I hope that the number of deaths from silly decisions is minimal--if I'm going to get this virus, I hope that I get it in a way that was unforeseeable or unavoidable, not as a result of doing something that I really know I shouldn't be doing.

Mostly, though, I want to learn how to love stronger, more deeply, more consistently.  My reactions should always be loving reactions, even in those situations in which "tough love" is called for.  I don't want to let anger get in the way of my love, or frustration or judgment.  I want to learn how to share my love in the most positive ways possible during some of the most difficult times that we've gone through.  If I can learn to do so, and do so well, then many other people can benefit from the love I'm able to share with them.

How do you make it through adversity?  How are you making it through the Covid pandemic?  Do you feel strong and healthy and balanced?  Or do you feel weakened and out of balance?  Adversity strikes us all sometime, and this time it's hitting us all at the same time--so let's do what we can to learn from this pandemic and the ways that people are responding to it.  If we can learn these very important lessons, then we're going to be much more effective at loving and understanding our fellow people on this planet.  So let's try to figure out how to learn our lessons and learn them well so that we can put them into practice as soon as possible!

See more on adversity on Living Life Fully.

Me and My Spirit

That's how I used to see this concept:  I was I, and my spirit was somehow separate from me.  The thinking me, after all, couldn't be the spiritual me.  I was a person who was stuck to the ground by gravity, who was a part of the world that finds itself on this planet, but my spirit was something else, something ethereal, immortal, unlimited and free.

Boy, does that seem strange now.  Now I realize that I am that spirit, that I've hitched a ride in a particular body for a certain amount of time.  I'm not "separate" from my spirit at all--rather, I am the spirit, and I am not simply this body that's here on earth for a short while.

I had a very hard time understanding this idea.  My logical and rational mind, after all, likes to feel that it's in charge, and that it does a pretty good job of making sense of the world and my place in it.  The truth is, though, that it really doesn't.  It's kind of like I put my mind in charge of my life only to find out that it's not competent enough to be in charge.  The mind seems to be quite well suited to be a very good servant, but very poorly suited to be our master.

I do recognize the strengths of the mind.  I'm very grateful for scientists and engineers whose minds help us to develop vaccines and bridges and microwave ovens and airplanes.  My mind helps me to distinguish between lies and the truth, and it helps me to recognize dangers and pitfalls that lie ahead of me in any endeavor I may make.  My mind is a wonderful thing, and I appreciate it a great deal.  Without it, my time in this body would be unbearable, to say the least.

The mind, though, is very limited.  Our eyes are fantastic pieces of work, but they can only see 0.0035 percent of the light spectrum.  Our ears are the same, hearing only a portion of the present sounds in our world.  Likewise, the brain can process many, many things--but it is limited in what it can do.

Our brains, for example, can read about love, study love, interpret love, and process conditions of love, but we don't love from our brains.  We love from our hearts and our spirits, and life is better that way.  Love isn't a negotiation--if it were, it would be in the realm of our brains.  Compassion doesn't come from analyzing data and reaching conclusions--rather, it, too, is a part of who we are, a product of our spirits.  People have tried to think through love and compassion and come up with definitions and explanations of them, but those definitions and explanations always fall short of the true nature of the concepts.  Our minds simply aren't expansive enough to deal with such amazing ideas.

And that's fine with me.  The important part to me is that I've finally realized that there is a difference between who I am and who I've always thought I am.  There is great value in allowing myself to shine as a spirit, as opposed to keeping my spirit subjugated to my reason.

When I allow my spirit to shine, I'm much more patient, for as a spirit I understand the fleetingness of life on this planet and the expansiveness of eternity.

When I allow my spirit to shine, I'm able to deal with life from a position of love and compassion and hope and trust, for as a spirit I don't need to come up with logical reasons to show and feel these things.

I'm able to relax more, for as a spirit I am not in a hurry, and I know that things will come to pass in their own time, as the flower blooms in its own time, not on any schedule.

I can deal with loss more easily, for as a spirit I understand that the words "This, too, shall pass" apply to virtually everything.  When things do pass, I may grieve, but I also understand that I'm to celebrate having experience it while it was here rather than to focus on the fact that it's no longer here.

I can be a beacon to others who see my peace of mind and peace of heart and would like to experience, but who haven't yet been taught the dangers of materialism and addiction to work and money.

I can function in the world without necessarily being part of the world--the negative parts, at least.  I can go to work without feeling fear of being caught up in the so-called rat race, and without dreading so many of the truly trivial elements that so often dominate the workplace.  I can earn my living without contributing to the greed and avarice and heartlessness and meanness of the world.

I can love unconditionally, knowing that others will benefit from that love, even if only slightly, depending upon how ready they are to accept love from others.

I can be more understanding of my fellow human beings, for as a spirit I know and understand the struggles that they're going through trying to get in touch with their own spirits, their own selves, even as they're pulled more and more deeply into the material, superficial world that's been created around us.

There are, of course, many other benefits of allowing ourselves to just be, on the level of our spirit.  I fully suspect that the longer I truly allow spirit to shine through, I'll come to know many benefits that I never even suspected existed.  It's not easy to go through life on a spiritual level--after all, we've been conditioned to see the world as a result of our intellects, and that conditioning is very difficult to put back in its place.  But it's worth the effort.  As I get closer and closer to truly allowing myself to shine constantly as a spirit (and I think I've only come one or two very short steps so far), my life gets simpler and easier.  I understand many things much better, and as that happens, my tension levels shrink significantly.

If we try to get through life using our intellect and reason as our sole guides to life, we're bound to live limited and rather tedious lives.  When we allow ourselves to shine as the spirits that we are, though, life becomes something more, something very special, just as our experiences, too, become much more special and much more loving.