Im speaking today at David Wolfes Womens Wellness conference, and I ran into Diane, a conference attendee who appreciates what I write. Standing next to her twin sister, she hugged me and said, Bless you for sharing your gifts from above. I loved that she recognized this key distinction, that it isnt MY gifts, that I am just the steward of these gifts. This is why I love the Joyce Carol Oates quote, I never understand when people make a fuss over me as a writer. Im just the garden hose that the water sprays through. Isnt it a blessing to have the opportunity to share our gifts from above? Yet sometimes we forget these gifts come from above, and we try to claim them, make them ours, attach to them, let the ego have a heyday with they. Im in love with this story, written by Outrageous Openness author Tosha Silver, about how our gifts from above dont belong to us anyway. May we never forget who really owns our gifts. I heard a story about ten years ago that seared itself into my mind. A spiritual teacher from France was a charismatic and potent speaker. He had the uncanny, profound ability to connect people to their own Divinity when he spoke. In the beginning when he first started this work, he was deeply grateful to be of help. As years went by and he spoke around the world, he received endless praise and awards. People treated him with great deference and respect. He heard constantly how supremely talented, amazing and uplifting he was. And he began to believe that indeed he was all that. Then one day he was about to give a talk in Australia. The conference center was packed, the crowd sizzled with anticipation. He walked to the microphone and opened his mouth. And nothing came out. His voice was gone. He spent the next three months essentially mute. This was no common bout of laryngitis, no doctors or tests could say what occurred. He cancelled his tour. He finally prayed with complete desperation to understand. He felt like he was losing his mind, not to mention his livelihood. That night he had a dream. So whose voice was it anyway? he heard. Once you knew. Eventually you forgot. Remember the truth and it will return. He ended up prostrate on the floor. He offered his voice, his teachings, all he had, back to the One, that had silently patiently owned it all along.
Posted on: Fri, 19 Sep 2014 15:30:13 +0000
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