• Choose a category
• All
• Classic-Fiction

Let me tell you about the death of my Grandma Charlotte Davis. Grandma Davis loved me. Of that I was sure. We were kindred spirits—independent, curious, questioning. Our times together in the ten years she lived with our family centered around reading, talking, questioning things, and going to libraries and museums. Whether we were sitting on a park bench, waiting for a bus, resting in a museum, or snuggled up on the couch, there was always a book nearby—in her purse, on the table, or by the bed.

When I was fourteen and she was dying from cancer, every day after school I’d run upstairs to her room to see how she was. For some time she had spent her afternoons resting on the chaise longue. But then one day she said, “I want to go to bed and never get up.” I was losing the one person who gave me the gift of her full attention and love. I was devastated to watch her slipping away.

Grandma Davis helped me with my desolation and sorrow through a simple gift I will never forget. One day when I came to her room, she asked me to read some of her favorite poems to her. It had never occurred to me that I would ever be asked to read to the woman who had instilled in me a profound love of learning. In my grief, this act connected me to her in a way that spoke to every moment we had spent together—words, beauty, meaning. Through my tears I could give something back to my grandmother, my namesake who had read to me thousands of times. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt so completely loved and connected to anyone before or since.

I don’t believe it is more blessed to give than to receive, the usual words intoned before the donation plate is passed in church. I believe there is no separation when the giving and receiving are embedded in relationship. It forms a sacred union between both people. For some people receiving is far more difficult because it challenges the belief that one is undeserving. Receiving can pierce the heart and humble us. I remember my mother, after attending an Alzheimer’s support group when my father was dying, saying in a heartfelt way, “People really do care, don’t they?” It appeared to be a surprise to her.

Being of help raises many spiritual questions because it can easily lead to sentiment, condescension, or ego gratification. “See, I’m be-ing a good person.” At the purest level, giving doesn’t exist, because we don’t truly own anything. All things are One Energy. We are simply channels for whatever has been given to us. As recipients and givers our paths converge, each of us sharing our unique selves and gifts.

Steven Harrison, in Doing Nothing, writes, “Giving without relationship creates an object out of a human being. Our responsibility to help is the responsibility to relate. In relationship, we discover that the divisions that thought creates dissolve into wholeness.”

STEP SIX

Move from Thought

to Action

Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it.

Boldness has genius, magic and power in it. Begin it now.

—GOETHE,MOBILIZING THE FORCES OF THE UNIVERSE

40. Find Your Fire, the Source of Transformation

It is not enough to be compassionate. You must act. There are two aspects to action. One is to overcome the distortions and afflictions of your own mind . . . The other is more social, more public. When something needs to be done in the world to rectify the wrongs, if one is really concerned with benefitting others, one needs to be engaged, involved.

—THE DALAI LAMA,THE PATH TO TRANQUILITY

Ultimately in life, you take action or you don’t. All the talk, analyzing, insight, and dreams are only interesting ideas until you put them into action. The challenge is to find your fire, the energy of transformation, and use it to mobilize your intentions in a sustained, organized direction. Fire creates the alchemy that mixes together your hopes, desires, and dreams and converts them into, “I can, I will, and here’s my plan.”

Siddhartha Gautama reached a state of enlightenment through the actions he took. It started with an inner restlessness and curiosity