My religion is very simple.
My religion is kindness.
The Phoenix Fire Department motto is “Be Nice.” I’ve always liked that. Two words conveying a way of being.
Sometimes the hardest things to grasp are the most simple. The gift of a flower. A pat on the back. A compliment to a stranger.
And yet, if we believe the Dalai Lama, what we give out comes back to us, full circle.
So if we are mindful, fully in the present moment, what we may need and crave is someone to notice us, to approve of our struggles in this world, to be kind.
And If we are able to give what we need, the world will mirror back our intentions in so many ways.
I’d been having a miserable writer’s block.
Nothing seemed to help.
I sang, I danced, I walked around the block, I called my sister. Nada.
Then I set the alarm for 4:45 am and changed where I wrote. Instead of at my regular desk I cleaned out a vacant studio and set up a temporary table for my laptop.
I banished the cat.
I turned off my radio. I opened a patio door and watched the sunshine on the red rocks. And listened to the early morning quail and blue jays chattering in the apricot tree.
And I waited.
Got up and did some stretches. Sat down again. Nothing.
Turned off the Internet. Listened to the painted towhee in the Russian sage.
Watched a rabbit getting a drink of water.
Observed a lizard skittering across the summer-hot rocks.
And was patient.
And finally the words started to flow.
Ah, home, at last!