Developing a Better You

Category: Mystery (Page 1 of 4)

Why I Love Cemeteries

I’m tired.

For most of the last six weeks, I’ve traveled the U.S. on book tour, talking with people about writing and my Monsterious series. I’ve done a steady stream of stock signings, interviews, school presentations, and bookstore events. It’s been exciting, frustrating, fun, exhausting, and deeply fulfilling.

At the end of it all, I feel empty. Drained. In need of quiet, rest, and reflection. When I realized I didn’t have the time or the energy to write a new post this week, I waded through some of the hundreds of posts I’ve written over the last six years. The one I’m reposting below (originally published March 3, 2018) spoke to me, maybe because the thought of lying down for a long time sounds very appealing right now. I hope it helps you take another step toward Becoming Yourself.

Why I Love Cemeteries: Cemetery

I love cemeteries. That might sound odd, even morbid. I’m not insensitive to the memories of pain and loss that they hold for so many. I deeply respect that. But to me, they are special places that nurture my personal development in ways few others do.

Cemeteries invite quiet reflection. They encourage me to slow down, to ponder, to contemplate. What do I want my life to be about? How do I want to be remembered? They have an atmosphere of reverence and respect, rare qualities in a time often marked by derision and divisiveness. A stroll through a cemetery reminds me of what I believe is important: Relationships. Character. Purpose. Joie de vivre.

Why I Love Cemeteries: Cemetery

I love how my perspective is sharpened by reading tombstones. I’m reminded that all of these people were once like me. That one day a grave marker will bear my name. Soon after, I’ll probably be remembered only by loved ones and then, over time, by no one at all. Reading those names reminds me that life is a breath, and I am small. I’m not as important to the world as I sometimes think I am. That’s a healthy dose of humility.

Why I Love Cemeteries: Cemetery

Yet being in a cemetery also makes me feel cherished, prized, special. Not to a fame infatuated world but to One whom I believe made me, knows me, and desires me. I think of a cemetery as a transition point, a way station, a gate that leads from one season to the next. It’s a passageway connecting one plane of existence to another. The end of one journey and the start of a far greater adventure.

Why I Love Cemeteries: Cemetery

I could be wrong. Maybe death is the end. Perhaps nothing waits for me and everything that I am will be snuffed out like the flame of a candle. But I don’t think so. I have subjective reasons, things I’ve felt and heard and seen that point to something greater, something beyond this life. And there are more objective arguments that appeal to my rational mind as well. So for reasons of both the head and the heart, I believe and find hope.

Why I Love Cemeteries: Cemetery

So if you need some perspective on life, if the thought of some quiet reflection sounds like water for your thirsty soul, if you’re looking for a little hope, I encourage you to slip away for an hour. Stroll thoughtfully through a cemetery. If you do, you’ll take another step toward Becoming Yourself.

Embrace Your Elephant: Find Peace with a Pachyderm

Sometimes a piece of art just hits me. While looking for pictures to decorate our apartment, I came across one that made me smile. It was whimsical and playful, yet also thought provoking. Here it is:

Elephant and Dog Meditate at Summer Night by Mike Kiev
(purchase here)

There’s just something about this painting of a dog and an elephant sitting together, gazing over moonlit waters on a summer night, that I absolutely love. I’m a fan of quirky things, nature, and the color blue, so on those levels, this art piece has a lot of appeal to me.

But I also love contemplation. Just sitting and thinking. I have an evening ritual where I sit on our balcony, look at the night sky above a nearby park, and reflect. I meditate on simple things, like what I did that day, and bigger things, like who I am, why I’m here, and what life is all about.

One of the reasons those times are meaningful is that I feel like the dog in the painting. That I’m not alone in my nighttime routine. I sense an invisible Elephant sitting beside me, staring out into the starlit sky. I feel it’s presence surrounding me, comforting me, whispering to me, guiding me. Something bigger, stronger, and wiser, keeping me company and joining me in quiet reflection.

I call my elephant God. You may call it Mother Nature, a cosmic force, or your higher power. You may call it nothing at all and believe that the universe is a purely physical, naturalistic system. My goal is not to argue in favor of a specific definition of a spiritual component to the universe, but I would like to propose this:

HAVING AN ELEPHANT MAKES LIFE BETTER

Why do I say that? Because I’ve discovered over the course of my life that having Someone bigger, higher, stronger, and wiser than me helps. A lot. It gives me peace. Security. Comfort. Guidance. Companionship. Belonging. Meaning. Love. Joy. Of course, an Elephant is not the only place to find these things, but it is the deepest, truest, and most lasting source of them that I’ve ever found.

I’ve learned that when life is all up to me, I’m not enough. Not to become who I want to be anyway. I need help for that. I’m in no way saying that I think I’m bad or unworthy. Far from it. I believe in and love myself deeply. I have huge respect for the power of the human spirit and what I can accomplish when I set my will to it.

That said, I find the thought that I’m my own highest power is more than a little depressing. I know me. If I’m IT, then I’m in trouble. As wonderful as I am, I know I have weaknesses, flaws, and limitations that will prevent me from being the person I really want to be. From living the life I truly want to live. I need help.

That’s where my Elephant comes in. A Helper. A Guide. A Friend. A Comforter. A Provider. A Protector. A whisper in my spirit that assures me I’m not alone, and that in all the craziness of life, someone much bigger than me has their hands on the wheel. That gives me a lot of comfort and hope.

You may feel that makes me weak. That I’m unwilling to face the cold, cruel reality that we are nothing but a cosmic accident, alone in a mindless, uncaring universe. Perhaps you’re right. Maybe there is nothing more. No-one, certainly not me, can prove the existence of God, a higher power, or whatever a person may call their Elephant. But no-one can disprove the Elephant either. I believe in God because of deeply personal experiences I’ve had and rational arguments I find compelling. Enumerating those is beyond the scope of this post, but if I’m using my belief in an Elephant to achieve a more meaningful, joyful life, then I’m in good company with people a lot smarter than I am. That’s a choice I’m happy to make.

So what about you? Do you have an Elephant? Someone or Something bigger than yourself that you believe in? A higher power that allows you to face life with a hope, peace, and security that can prove elusive when you choose to go it alone?

If you’re intrigued, gaze up at the night sky. Open your mind and heart to God, the Cosmos, Mother Nature, whatever you want to call it. Breathe a prayer. A request for awareness. For ears to hear, eyes to see, a heart to feel. Taste and see. You just may sense an Elephant at your side. If you do, you’ll take a giant leap toward Becoming Yourself.

This post was originally published March 16, 2019.

The Surprisingly Inclusive Symbol of Christmas

Sometimes shorter is better.

I’m embracing that idea for this week’s post. Also, the words of others often say what I’d like to say better than I can. So I offer you the short, powerful words of theologian and mystic Howard Thurman (1900-1981) on the inclusive symbol of Christmas:

The symbol of Christmas—what is it? It is the rainbow arched over the roof of the sky when the clouds are heavy with foreboding. It is the cry of life in the newborn babe when, forced from its mother’s nest, it claims its right to live. It is the brooding Presence of the Eternal Spirit making crooked paths straight, rough places smooth, tired hearts refreshed, dead hopes stir with newness of life. It is the promise of tomorrow at the close of every day, the movement of life in defiance of death, and the assurance that love is sturdier than hate, that right is more confident than wrong, that good is more permanent than evil.

Howard Thurman, The Mood of Christmas and Other Celebrations (Friends United Press: 1973, 1985), 3

For me, Christmas is a symbol of the deep love of God from which we all come, in which we all live, and to which we all will one day return. Whatever Christmas means to you, I hope and pray that you have a wonderful holiday season. Thank you so much for reading and being a part of this community. I am truly grateful for your company on the road to Becoming Yourself.

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