Sunday, June 19, 2011

Gifts from my Father

I miss my dad’s physical presence in my life greatly. My dad stood just shy of 6’4” tall and felt larger than life to me especially when I was a child. His smile lit up the room and opened my heart. He was imperfectly perfect. Today as I feel into his presence, knowing I will connect with him directly in spirit, I now feel moved to share some of the gifts received from my dad:


Never give up. He used to say “knock on the door, if no one opens, go through it anyway. If it’s locked, find a window. If there isn’t a window build your own doorway. But never let anyone stop you from living your dreams”


Reach out and connect to others. I was quite shy as a kid. One evening at a dinner party he and mom were having, he encouraged me to greet his guests and shake their hands.  I was petrified.  "Look them in the eye. See who is standing before you." he said warmly as he helped me move to each adult around the dining room table one by one.  Take no interaction for granted was his message.
 • Laugh out loud. He used to tell jokes and funny stories at the dinner table and I would laugh until my tummy hurt. When I was older he told me that he stood outside the den, listening to me laugh at comedians on television admiring that I laughed aloud even when no one else was around. He told me to never lose that quality to laugh boldly. One father’s day I bought him a book on Yiddish Humor. He loved it so, he called me weekly to read the funniest joke for the week. In honor of his brilliant sense of humor, I told one of his favorite Yiddish jokes from that book at his funeral.


See the World! All of it. He loved to travel and believed it was as important as providing his children with a great education. He took us to almost every state in the nation when we were kids and had us meet the people, see the places we were in from the local’s perspective. He and my mom took it all in. He was fascinated with unique cultures, customs, and cuisines. He made friends where ever he went. My dad (and mom) had been to every continent and visited every major culture of the world before he died.


Love with your whole being. He was head over heels in love with my mother for 55 years until his last breath of life. He spoke the words often and more significantly, he demonstrated his love and devotion to my mom and his family on a daily basis.


Treat your family reverently. To my dad, family was the foundation of his strength and good fortune. He was loving and generous with his family including his parents and siblings; my husband, daughter and my husband’s family. He always spoke of his family with an open heart.


Work hard and Play passionately. He came from a financially impoverished background and valued hard but meaningful work. He created a highly successful company and developed systems that promoted clean emissions for power plants, long before the EPA required it. And he played sports actively; danced and dined on the weekends; traveled the world and indulged in the theatre, opera and symphony.


Stand by your convictions. My father was a die-hard liberal who believed that those with a lot of resources had a responsibility to share the wealth and opportunity with those who do not have so much. When he grew into financial affluence many of his friends chastised his political persuasions urging him to vote for the protection of his earnings rather than remain a “bleeding heart”. He said “I worked hard to be in a position to give back and believe it is my duty to do so.” He often claimed that the integrity of a government standing for liberty and justice for all is reflected in the willingness for it to compassionately care for those citizens who are in need. He also proudly served in WWII and was devastated that citizens of Germany would not stand against an unconscionable regime on behalf of the persecuted. He stood for civil rights and women’s rights before it was popular.


Taste everything. He used to say that most people make up their minds before they even know what is before them. Taste the unusual food. Experience different customs. Learn what is there before your reject it out of fear. He and my mom exposed us to every kind of cuisine and culture and the rule in our home was “taste it first and then decide”.


Take responsibility for your choices. My father was a humanist. He did not feel connected to a G-d and it concerned him that humanity often gave away its power and responsibility for the world it created by claiming it was all in the hands of the divine. He believed that if humans choose to live from love, kindness, generosity, compassion and peace, they will create a world that reflects something far greater than one they hope will be created by a power outside of themselves.


 • When you’re wrong, apologize. He was never afraid to admit when he was flat out wrong.


Live each day like it might be your last. My dad seemed to pack a week into a day. He worked hard, played hard and appreciated the fullness of his life. He seemed to have more stamina than anyone I knew. I intuitively felt he was preparing to leave the earth plane about 5 years prior to his actual death. The very last time I saw my father he had come over for dinner to celebrate Hanukah and to see us before flying to Florida for the winter. I’ll never forget that final goodbye as I held my beautiful newborn Samantha in my arms. Before walking out the door, he stopped and looked me in the eye and I could feel him taking us in, glowing with love. “I love you dad.” I choked out the words, “Call me when you guys get settled” I said. “I love you too” he offered through his heartwarming smile. He walked out the door, flew to Florida the next day and died 2 days later in his sleep. I never saw my father alive again. But I am forever grateful that our last interaction was an exchange of mutual respect and love.


I have been visited by my father since he passed into spirit 11 ½ years ago. The humanist who was not so sure G-d existed and the scientist who did not believe in psychic phenomena came to visit me from the world of spirit telling me “I had no idea who you were when I was alive; but you need to step up and offer your intuitive abilities to others Lori”.  Like I said, he was always willing to admit when he erred, even in death. And while I am profoundly grateful to connect with him as a spirit, I still miss his bold physical presence in my life. I miss his powerful voice, bear hugs, big laugh, and dynamic discussions about the book he was reading, about politics, the arts and of course, sports. I miss him for my mom, who knew and loved him since she was 17. I miss him for my sister who resembles him physically and in mannerisms and attitudes. And I miss him for my daughter who could benefit from a papa who would dote on her (as he declared upon her birth: I will be taking her to the zoo, circus, museums, to Israel and Greece; to dance lessons and piano lessons. I will help her ride a two wheeler, tie her shoes and climb trees just like I did with you. And of course, I’ll teach her baseball and golf. She has to play golf. And if you don’t mind, I won’t be calling her Sam…I will always call her Samantha)


Last Friday night my dad in spirit sat next to me watching his granddaughter play softball. That was a sweet comfort for my soul.


His passing opened a doorway for many changes, including an unfolding healing between my mother and me. It meant my brother had his father greet him when he too left this physical world and passed into spirit a few short years after our father’s death. My dad left a legacy of kindness, a willingness to understand and a child-like passion for life. I am glad he was my dad and I his daughter. I am grateful to feel his presence living through my daily life. And I am honored to share a small glimpse into the gifts he gave to me when he was here.




How are you celebrating, honoring or connecting with the gifts from your father or divine masculine influences in your life today?




Monday, June 13, 2011

Sweating It Out in the Dark

Living as an intuitive requires the willingness to surrender to a higher source for actions large and small. And while I've been practicing listening to my intuition and taking divinely guided action for a couple of decades, I still have attachments filtered through my ever present emotionally charged mind. Yep, sometimes I resist.  What can I say, I am a work in process.


So when my guides suggested that attending a Sweat Lodge might be a great thing for me to offer my students and to do with them, I repeatedly questioned the guidance.  You know the same guides who saved my life, led me to my healing, appeared in full form before my eyes and enhanced my life in every meaningful way...this time though, they could be wrong.  Right?  I mean, did they know that my body has begun to experience its very own hormonally induced personal version of a sweat lodge daily? I don't exactly pray while in that kind of a sweat...but did I really need more heat?

They must know too, that I do not like to sit in humid, enclosed spaces? With lots of people?  That I feared sitting in intense heat knowing that I was hosting the ceremony for shamanic students and friends? I wondered if my spiritual guides remembered that I might actually be phobic about spiders?  And don't they like enclosed dark spaces?  Not to mention mosquitoes. I wondered if my beloved guides had lost touch with my latent neurosis that only surfaced once I finally committed to engaging in a Lakota Ceremonial Sweat Lodge.


And once I agreed, I breathed into the process only to be informed that women were expected to wear skirts.  Seriously?  In keeping with Lakota Tradition, this was the request.  I know my guides were with me in the sixties when us girls were forced to wear dresses above the knees even in the dead of winter.  And surely knew that wearing a skirt had nothing then or now to do with my femininity or reverence for spirit.  Naturally my loving spirit guides were aware that when I was promoted into senior management in the corporate world, my first ruling was to award all the women in our company the right to wear pants to work.  And that was in 1994!


So to be sure my guides were actually speaking to me, I journeyed into the divine realms, to seek support for going into the sweat lodge and facing these surfacing fears.  If this is what was showing up at the moment., I wondered what would arise in the hot dark setting?  Once again, the ruminations of my mind were quieted in shamanic journey as my guides revealed the deep healing that I would experience and how truly protected and loved I was in every moment.  Whew! My spirit always remembers what my mind easily forgets.


The morning of the sweat I was actually giddy with wonderment.  I had attended sweat lodges before but they were always led by a harsh guide that was not nourishing to my thirsty soul.  This time, I was in the hands of a competent and compassionate shamanic water pourer who listened to all my concerns with a reverent heart.  18 women and 3 men participated that evening. We sat in the circle of an energetic womb, singing in Lakota, honoring the great ancestors and the spiritual helpers who served our evolution.  We prayed, shared deeply, cried and laughed in the lavender and cedar aromas permeating the dark air.  As I felt the beauty of my fellow travelers, my heart expanded into a thousand unnamed places and my soul opened into boundless space.  Whatever fears had stood fiercely with me prior to entering the door of the sacred haven had floated into the stars of a universe that effortlessly shifted them back into truth. I felt in complete unity with all that was. 


I crawled into the sweat in one form and stepped out as another. It seems my guides may know a thing or two about who I am, what I need and how to shift from the darkness of my mind into the vastness of my soul. Go figure.