Humiliation vs true Humility on the Spiritual Path: August

Journal entries about clairvoyance, meditation, spirituality, and mystical experiences

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figaro
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Humiliation vs true Humility on the Spiritual Path: August

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Image

Image: the moon over the lake at Windgarth House.

Wednesday, August 13
3 p.m.

A beautiful day, sunny and cool. Chance of rain. JF took me shopping. Afterwards, I stood outside in the parking lot, in the sun and wind, feeling momentarily safe from summer heat and my friends the yellow jackets. Just a few rare minutes of sun and wind, while JF packed the car. As I stood there, facing the sun - I thought that even those few moments in the sun and wind would become memory; and once they were memory they would be eternal in a way, infinite. Because we can stand in a memory for as long as we wish. I also realized that the experience of the sun and wind was evoking past memories, memories of being at the beach when I was a child; and in those memories I was in the sun and wind and water for many hours. In addition: there was no true sense of time even as I stood there in the parking lot - in a sense that experience was also timeless.

In this way those moments became infinite and precious, just as precious as if I had spent a day outside at Windgarth, or by the gorge. Memories are only a fleeting glance until we step into them - and today I somehow stepped into that same eternal place, in the sun and wind, while JF packed the car ...

Tonight we will have meditation and class for the first time since my surgeries.

Thursday, August 14

A new aide this week; dark curly hair, blue eyes; young, shy. She sweetly did laundry, watered the indoor plants, washed the dishes, swept. Since I can now go up and down the stairs fairly easily, hopefully next week will be the last week for these hired aides.

No visitors today; just the aide and the fellow who brings my lunch each day. Worked on a painting of our grape arbor, made some phone calls; arranged a plumber for next door.

Took a long walk after dinner. Admired all the gardens I passed. Met Migdahlia on the corner - she will clip some of the topiary and help plant bulbs that arrived in the mail last spring. She continues to water the gardens and window boxes for us. The climbing roses are reblooming, different shades and intensities of red, oranges and pink. The monarda continue to form swatches of color here and there throughout the gardens; pink roses gaze through the blue sage on the corner; plumes of purple loosestrife, mums, coreopsis, phlox, liatris ... No matter which direction or corner of the garden, paintings everywhere .... Meditations on Beauty ...

Friday, August 15

In the low seventies today. M. is spending the night at Windgarth. JF came by and took me to dinner; then a short errand. Afterwards, glimpses of the moon through the trees. When we arrived back at Lincoln Street, before going in we walked to the small woods down the street, but the moon was still hidden. We walked further, but firs still hid the moon. After she left I took a short walk in a different direction, and there it was - radiant and clear and a perfect disc, with a few horizontal, thin clouds beneath... I called to Migdahlia from the sidewalk, and she came outside; we walked to the moon together. Told her the plumber was coming Tuesday morning; gave her permission to buy wall paint; showed her what bushes and trees needed clipping.

A new healing request: this fellow asked to be cured of his stuttering, that it felt like a dark cloud hanging over him - and said that he felt like a failure because his persistent prayers for healing were not answered. I responded:

“ The first thing we learn as Healers - is that sometimes we are not allowed a miracle. My teacher said that if we were not allowed a miracle, it meant that the person was in Higher Hands than ours. Which I believe to be true. And from what Our Lady had said to visionaries in Her appearances to them, we are healed or not healed when we pray depending on what is best for our own soul and the souls of others. And only God knows the answer to that.

In my own case, I have found that it is best to ask for healing, say "thank you" - and then completely let go of the outcome. I still pray that I will be healed from my head injuries; I am still dizzy often, sometimes to the point of falling over. I cannot drive a car because my eyes cannot track motion well enough; sometimes my left leg drags; often I cannot understand what people are saying, if they speak too fast. Moreover, I could no longer teach piano, which was my main livelihood. The list is too long to include here ... However, because I could no longer teach, I gave more concerts and wrote more music - and started the online journals, wrote books. And I have been asking almost 20 years for this healing! Head injuries entirely changed almost every aspect of my life - and not for the better, from my ego's point of view. But my ego's point of view is not where I wish to stand .... my head injuries ruined my life as it was, that is all.

One thing I learned after the accident, was the difference between humiliation and true Humility. In humilation, we are standing in the ego - and suffer terribly. When we stand in Humility - the power of the universe comes through us, because we are now bypassing the ego. I learned this lesson very quickly after the accident, because humiliation was too painful for me ... This Humility is before God, and is also a trust in God and in the soul. And when we stand in true Humility we open our deep connection to God and our own soul.

I have received much healing and many miracles for my injuries; the doctors said I would never play the piano again, nor give another concert. They weren't sure of anything in my life. But I am not healed to my personal, ego-based satisfaction, not by a long shot .... I am still dependent on others for many things I would rather do myself. And there are still so many simple things I cannot do ...

I have used all this suffering to deepen my Humility and my Trust in God and the soul. You must ask yourself what in your stuttering brings you closer to God and the soul - and honor it.

I would like to hear what answers you come up with.

Of course I will also send you healing. Pray to Saint Dymphna, she is in charge of everything neurological, psychological and emotional. But for you to be healed without thanking God for your condition might mean you will miss the greatest lessons of your life ... First you must see what God wishes you to learn!

Hope this helps and thank you for your message.”

Saturday, August 16
Windgarth 11:00 p.m.

My first trip to Windgarth since late May. Many tenants have come and gone; no renters this week, so we have the entire house to ourselves tonight. The sound of the waves, the gardens, the hanging petunias in the window boxes, the asparagus with its delicate and frail plumes; the upright piano. Someone bought a cushion for the rocking chair in the downstairs study, I see new spices on the spice shelf in the kitchen ... These wonderful rooms - home.

We arrived around 7 p.m. Went to Happy Landing at the crossroads to buy something for dinner, past the fields and wildflowers and under the clouds; past the sheep and the roadside stand where we buy peaches and blueberries, later in the season corn and homemade jams. After a simple dinner we walked to the Point. Later, I went down to the dock to watch the fireworks a few houses south of us, while M. took pictures of the full, radiant moon and its reflections on the lake. In the spaces between the echoes of the fireworks hitting the shore the sound of the rhythmic waves and crickets, cicada.

Now downstairs on the couch in the front room, the sounds lulling me to sleep, the different pitches and rhythms of the waves and the small beings that share the night hypnotic, soothing ... I had planned on working on We meet in Dreams tonight. That work can wait until tomorrow.

Sunday, August 17

Sitting on the dock at dawn, a different disc rising over the hills, throwing its swath of light on the water. Now it is the sun and its moving bright band of light on the waves that reach my feet. Briefly some men in a sailboat, my only human company. The distant hills south of me caught in a blue haze as the lake turns to the east. Cool enough for a jacket, the heat of the day is still many hours away.

A neighbor has come out and sits on his porch overlooking the lake. Changing pictures in the clouds in the open sky before us, a half globe slowly circling, forming a half bowl around the lake and hills; behind me the vineyard and its fields. Only rows of trees along the shore partially obscure the ring of clouds behind us; we are encircled by huge clouds slowly moving in the wind, in changing patterns. M. said the martins left yesterday, for the warmth of the south. Now a lone seagull sits on one of their houses facing south, calling to someone.

As the sun gathers strength I must close my eyes. The white brilliance of the sun’s moving light on the water reminds me of the Brilliance of the unearthly radiant Light of the soul ...
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