Life lessons from the Long Island Medium

I’ve started watching The Long Island Medium on Netflix, which is (ostensibly) a reality show in which we are to mock a stereotypical woman from Long Island for her outlandish accent, her belief in spirits, and her amazingly poofy hair.

I think it is actually a far kinder show than most people realize. Sure, I’m kinda interested in the whole talks-to-dead-people thing, but here are some lessons I’m taking to heart after watching a season or so of this show.

1) Don’t be afraid of being loud and extravagantly you. There will still be those who love you, and that love is all that matters. Even if they rib you for being so unapologetically, SO very much YOU, they will love you for who you are, and that is the most important thing.

2) Trust yourself. So, people may think you’re kooky, but so what? It is more important to try.

3) Everyone you meet –no matter where you go — each and every one of them carries some grief in their heart. And, more importantly, they are usually willing to open themselves to someone who is willing to be vulnerable with them. This is the inherent goodness in people. Sure, some people will put up a wall, and you’ll never convince them, but that number is so tiny and insignificant when compared to the number of people who are waiting for someone to reach out to them.

 

today

 

Click image to see full size.

Walking home from work today, I saw a big sycamore tree, silhouetted against the sunset. The wind blew, and the leaves stirred – they were starlings, flying away into the sunset.

Namaste.

yoga and the quest for the true self

Paradoxically, without the experience of having been safely held and soothed, we cannot grow up enough to make the soother our adversary. We need the worthy opponent. We need to feel the effects of our own power in the world and to experience our own mastery. To acknowledge, experience, and bear reality — and finally, to bring it into perspective.

– Stephen Cope, Yoga and the Quest for the True Self, p. 288.

Blue Moon over Avon, NC 2012

 

If we allow ourselves to be ravished by the irrational we are compelled to face our own evil. Trust takes on a new dimension. In knowing our own darkness, we know what another’s darkness can release. We learn to forgive and love. Then, we don’t know from moment to moment what will happen next. As [the] Pashupats clearly understood — this is God’s country, not ours.