Woodstock, Snoop Dogg, and Mother Teresa
I am not an academic. Nothing about what I study or observe is extraordinary. Shooting stars, chirping birds, fond memories. These make up my thoughts on most mornings and I try to keep things light.
There are times when I go deep, but most of my learning is from dreams, audio books, and children. This weekend, I indulged in two documentaries. Woodstock, a story about the first music and arts festival, in New York, in 1969, and Reincarnated, a film about Snoop Dogg and his month long trip to Jamaica.
Woodstock was filled with thoughts of love and peace, and how a generation of young Americans came together in a time of war and strife to shock the world. The community of Woodstock, New York, responded with love and gifts of food and water for over 450,000 people who quickly ran out of supplies for the festival. It was beautiful in a lot of ways. What impressed me most, was the fact that organizers quickly gave up on making a profit on the venture, after the flood of people outweighed the ability to collect funds.
In Reincarnated, Snoop Dogg spoke about his earlier gang life, and music surrounding that time. He did not apologize for the music, but understood that he needed to be more about, in his words, “peace, love, and positivity.” He was ready to make a change. In my opinion, Jamaica is the perfect place for that. Snoop Dogg is a seeker. He has been a part of Christian, Islamic, and now, Rastafari communities.
While it was inspiring, it reminded me of what Dylan did in the late 70’s with his conversion to evangelical Christianity. Also of a documentary I saw, about Deepak Chopra being initiated into some Buddhist community. But, to Snoop Dogg, I say, “Jah Love.”
These things are all good. They happened. I was able to partake in some way through the miracle of media, and it beats worrying for, this or that news story. I will not summarize them, but if you like, you may find them on Netflix.
The real story is when I heard the voice of Mother Teresa this weekend. Without getting into the mysticism or the miracle, we may simply call it a memory of something I had read. Those stories of mysticism and miracles can be had over coffee anytime we are in the same town. Life is a miracle.
Usually on the weekend, weather permitting, I try to walk the wishing path. This weekend, I did it to settle my nerves after feeling like my ideas were being ripped off. As I struggled to believe that affecting change, not matter how, was what mattered, I saw something out of the corner of my eye.
It was not raining, but just as I was approaching the wishing path, there was a disturbance in the creek beside me. Something hit the water. Whatever it was, caused a perfect, concentric pattern of ripples that sparkled in the sun. Then I heard her.
“I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across waters to create many ripples.”
Mother Teresa was ahead of her time in so many ways.
My thoughts are not my own. My life, in so many ways, is not my own. Yes, it is for me to enjoy. Yes, it is for me to create. But, what is apparent at all stages, is that at any point, the resources I have used to create this life, have been given to me by Source.
All credit due to those “Abundance Theorists”. Great props to the gurus of self-help that suggest we are able to live lives of wealth, health, and prosperity. Do we deserve better? Yes. Do we understand we deserve better? Not often.
What most miss, is that abundance is not always about wealth, health, and prosperity. Also, what others miss, is that the light of our successes mean little if not used to spark the successes of others. Do I need credit for my ideas? My ego sure does. Are they my ideas alone? Never.
What I am most, is human, but only in my head. Truly, what I am most, is a spiritual being. If someone uses my ideas, or drawings, or wealth, without permission or payment, or even a note of “thanks”, it is not for me to worry over. In business it makes little sense. In my spiritual life, for now, it makes great sense.
Gratitude is my mantra, and love is the way. I would be more compelled to be upset if ideas were stolen from others. For me, the miracle of the weekend, is the projection of voice and image through the air and onto a screen. The running of clean water. The smile of a teenage boy as he discovers something new. My miracles are, helping my family through tough times, while getting through my own tough times.
There are also cups of coffee, music played at the instant I call it into being, the dancing of sunlight on a frosted blade of grass. Early spring. My imagination setting sail for worlds and circumstances beyond anything I have dreamed before. Books. Printers. Ink pens. Art and Dad Jokes. These are the miracles of my weekend.
But there is still that voice that whispered to me… “ripples.”
The truth is, I am more weird than most. I over and under think things that most simply let go. What I know is this.
Nothing of our life is predetermined. There is no way to discover the “correct” path. If Dylan, Snoop, and Deepak need, or needed, to transform in some ritualistic way, this is theirs to experience. Most of what I spend my time doing is unlearning what I thought was truth.
What have I found? Nothing of what I do is a “have-to”. It is all a “get-to”. That idea was born from Snoop Dogg also, but earlier in my life.
May you find miracles in your daily thoughts and experiences. May you leave some things to chance, which is really only God, and may we all find peace in knowing that life always works out for the best.
Love is all there is, but our reactions to that love, determine the amount of love we see and feel. From the foothills of the Smoky Mountains, there is love, on the way to you now.