I ran across this phrase a few weeks ago. I forget where or who wrote it. Here it is: your personal zone of genius. I’d never heard it before. It hit me. Wow. I mean, did you know you had one? Does everyone have one?

Turns out the answer is yes. We might call it ‘what you were born to be’. In the Hindu tradition, it is called dharma. In Jungian philosophy, it is soul purpose. In Native American tradition it is known through vision quest.

Your personal zone of genius is the place you feel in tune with the inner and the outer. It is a place of alignment and deep satisfaction. It is your place in the world.

You don’t choose it. It chooses you. It’s the way you came here…primed for your personal zone experience. It’s not what you think you should be doing or what others think, either. It’s what you know from the inside. Because it’s how you are built. It may be one big thing, but more than likely it is something that changes over time. The zone shifts and evolves.

The key is to stay open, flexible, and awake. To make decisions that keep you in the zone. To notice when it feels like you get pulled off-course. To ask yourself…am I in the zone? Is this my place right here? Is this my place in the world now?

Personal zone of genius. I like it. It’s a place I want to be in as often as I can.
In the zone. Yeah.
Paula

You don’t have to say yes when you really want to say no. You don’t have to make decisions based on what you think the other person wants or needs. You don’t have to do it because everyone else is doing it.

A yes or no, the best decision, the right choice is the one you make that honors what you really want for you, how you want to feel, and who you really want to be in the world. No one else can make those choices for you, you have to make them for yourself. You’ve got to answer the question: What do I want?

It’s curious how many people cannot answer this question. And curious, too, are those who know what they want but are afraid or stuck or are filled with so much doubt they set their desire aside.

This is a reminder: you have one life this time around. This is it! What do you want? Take a step in that direction. If you’re not sure how to start, ask for some help. Don’t let another day go by without making a decision about your life. It’s too important. I mean, it’s your life!!!

Get used to asking this question every day, all the time, about everything. Pause. Ask and answer. Make conscious choices. If you don’t know for sure, give yourself a minute. Most choices are not life and death choices. Sometimes the answer can be: I’m not sure. At that point, don’t give up…just be with it. You’ll know. Trust yourself.

I think that’s the bottom line. Learn to trust yourself. Ask the question and trust the answer.

It’s your life. Live it for you.
And always be kind.
Paula

I wrote this poem last week. The destruction from Hurricane Helene was heavy on my mind. It reminded me that you just never know. Instead of feeling hopeless, maybe we let this simple fact teach us to be more kind. Here it is. It’s called Who Knew?

Who knew it would happen today?
The thing that would bring you to your knees.
The thing that would change your world.

You didn’t see it coming.
It was a shock, a complete surprise,
From out of left field.

Who knew it would happen today?
There was no time to prepare.
At first it seems unreal, did that really just happen?

Then it starts to sink in.
The mind catches up, puts the pieces in place.
Puts an order to it, makes it real.

Who knew it would happen today?
I would lose my best friend.
I would finally get that kidney transplant.

Nobody ever knows for sure.
Life is full of twists and turns.
I think we just be kind, all the time, to everyone.

Maybe that’s how we get ready for whatever happens.

You just never know how life can change, and dramatically, from one week to the next. Hurricane Helene was expected to be a devastating storm when it rolled into the Big Bend of Florida on September 26th. Just how devastating could not be comprehended. The same is true for what would become a tropical storm with raging winds and 30 inches of rain dumped in the Western NC mountains. No words can adequately describe what has happened or what it will take to recover.

Many folks are moving to rescue and take care of those who are stranded and lost. They have the skills and resources to be of great service at this time. Food, shelter, equipment, utilities, and medical attention. Some are getting set for the long haul. They know it will not be a sprint. They have experience dealing with disaster.

So, here we are in Wilmington wondering how to help. We feel the urge to do something NOW! Of course we do. We are all moved by such tragedy. It is a time we feel most connected to each other. We want to help.

It is wise to remember that the best help is offered not by what WE think would be most useful, but by providing what is actually needed by those in need. Turns out our best help is usually money. And money is usually the thing we hesitate to give. I don’t know why we think buying something is better. Is it because it makes US feel better? Is that why we give…so we can feel good about ourselves?

The people caring for people need money so they can care for them in the best way possible. Find those who are on the ground doing the work and send them some money. Empower those who are doing the work to do it the best they can.

And then in the time you set aside for prayer and/or meditation, send the strength you want them all to feel from your heart. Send them the feeling they are not alone. Send them appreciation and love. And send some more money if you can.

With great humility.
Paula

This is the opening line in a story on CNN by Oscar Holland dated August 29, 2024: “A 4-year-old boy accidentally smashed a Bronze Age jar at an archeological museum in Haifa, Israel.”

Do you think you can fill in the blanks about what must have happened next? Maybe not.

The accident happened at the Hecht Museum where its founder, Reuben Hecht, had emphasized making artifacts accessible to the public. So, the ancient jar was sitting without any barrier when the boy pulled it slightly toward himself to see what was inside. It crashed and broke at his feet. Of course, the parents were in shock. You might imagine how you would feel if your young son destroyed an ancient artifact. Yikes!

But hold on a minute. Here is what the museum’s director had to say: “The museum is not a mausoleum but a living place, open to families (and) accessible,” she told the news outlet, adding: “We are appealing to parents: Don’t be afraid. Things like this happen. We will fix (the jar) and put it back.”

There were no calls to lawyers, no fines imposed, no banning young visitors, no changes to museum policy. There was no panic or blame or hauling the parents to court. No public shaming or wild investigation. Instead…things like this happen. And also this…the director invited the family back to the museum for a private tour.

Oh, that we could all be so generous and kind when others break our treasures. That we could feel our disappointment and then let it be. That we could realize the imperfection in our human existence.  If we might really know…things like this happen. Sigh.
Paula

Full story here.

Here is a quote by Saint Augustine from my desk calendar:

“People travel to wonder at the height of the mountains, at the huge waves of the sea, at the long course of rivers, at the vast compass of the ocean, at the circular motion of the stars; and they pass by themselves without wondering.”

I think so. We are marvelous creatures in so many ways. And yet, we rarely stop to notice. We are more likely to notice our shortcomings. We compare ourselves to others who seem to have it all together. We have many insecurities; we think we are small and insignificant. We might not believe we matter much at all.

That may be true, but so is this. We are marvelous in our ability to think and reason and to grasp at ideas from out of thin air. We are incredible survivors of physical, mental and emotional pain. We are passionate lovers of life. We feel, I mean we feel, deeply. We can be utterly confused and we can be absolutely clear. Our whole life long, we fall down and get back up again.

How could it be? How do I exist in this body, with this heart and this mind, at this time on this earth? How is it that creation decided it needed one of me? How did that happen?

I think it’s worth the wonder. At least as much wonder as the stars in the night sky or the hummingbird alight on the feeder or dew clinging to a single blade of grass.

Don’t you think?
Paula

On Monday evening I attended a funeral mass at the Basilica of St. Mary in Wilmington. The mass was held for Alexandra Angelis Brigantti Abraham, the granddaughter of our neighbors, Carmen and Victor. Her birthday is September 9th. She would have been twenty-six years old on the day the mass was offered.

I never met Alex nor did I know her parents. Carmen and Victor are not close friends. Still, when Carmen told us about the mass, there was no hesitation…we would definitely attend. The mass was to be offered in Spanish.  I would be familiar with the rituals, being raised Catholic, but I wouldn’t understand a word that was said.

Sitting there, I understood the importance of being a witness. Not just showing up, but bringing my consciousness to the moment. I felt the importance of bringing my presence and full attention to the life being honored, the words being spoken and the rituals being performed.

To witness the passing of a life is to acknowledge that particular life mattered. However short, that life, her life, Alex’s life mattered. Her life is worthy of my presence and my attention, even if I didn’t understand a word that was sung or said.

It mattered to Carmen and Victor that we shared in their pain and sorrow.

And it mattered beyond that. Somehow, being there, carried a greater significance. I was a small but essential pulse joining others in honoring the sacred nature of Life Itself.

Humble yet again,
Paula

You cannot know a person’s story by just looking at them. You have no idea, based on looks, what another has endured or what they are experiencing at this moment in their life.

Even when you think you know, because you had a similar experience or because they told you part of the story, you just don’t know. You have no idea what it was like. You have no idea because you did not live life in their skin.

Everyone has a story and you have no idea of the breadth and depth of it. Billions of people with billions of stories. People close to you and people all over the world. The only story you really know is your own.

So, why even bring this up? Because I think we need more empathy in the world. I think we need to treat each other with more kindness. And I think if we just admit that we have no idea what it’s like to live another person’s life, well then, we might just find more tenderness in our own self. We might be less arrogant and more humble. We might be less judgmental, more curious and kind.

Because we just don’t know.

With great humility,
Paula

We took our cat, Mae, to the emergency vet hospital on Sunday night. She was passing blood through her bladder. It was alarming to both of us. Her behavior before that was a little off. We thought maybe she was stressed from us being away the week before. But after seeing the blood, another thought came to my mind. I wonder if it’s cancer?

Her brother Buddha died from cancer in 2020. It was a quick connection in my mind. Would this be the last time we held Mae?

While they were caring for her at the vet hospital, we sat quietly waiting for the bloodwork and exam to be completed and the news to be shared. Breathing in and out. Staying hopeful but definitely concerned. In short order, we were called to an exam room where we met with the doctor. She told us that Mae had a urinary tract infection and we would receive medication for her treatment. She would be much better in 24-48 hours. The relief was palpable.

We returned to the waiting area. We were different people than the two who walked back to that exam room. An older woman with her dog had been sitting there before and was still there when we returned. She noticed the difference. She said something like…”I didn’t want to say anything earlier. You looked very concerned.”

I thought…how sweet. To have observed and allowed us to be without interrupting. And then to notice and say something when the coast was clear.

If only we could more often be so aware of others and allow them the space to be where they are. No fixing, no lifting the mood, no distracting from the moment. Just sensing and allowing them to be.

Bravo to the woman in the waiting room at the vet hospital on Sunday night with her little dog that could not stop scratching. I hope you are peaceful and at ease.

Paula

One more post about my trip to Pennsylvania.

Seeing the sunrise is special. I saw this from the back porch one morning, resting with my tea in hand. Isn’t it something?

Just sitting there and this happens! Right in front of my eyes. Exquisite. I sat a while longer and something else happened. This.

Rain comes when it will.
The sun rises at its own pace.
Clouds thicken and break apart.
Birds call back and forth.
Church bells ring announcing the new day.
Early Saturday morning on the back porch.

Sigh.
Grateful.
Paula