What I Know For Sure Read online

  And then he shared something I still think about to this day.

  The inside of the plane, John said, “looked like Dante’s Inferno, with people strapped to their seats, just burning. It seemed like an aura was leaving their bodies—some brighter than others.… I thought the brightness and dimness of the auras were how one lives one’s life.” John says that experience—seeing what he could only describe as auras, an energy of light leaving the bodies and floating above the flames—changed him, made him a more empathetic person. And although he still won’t call his brush with death a miracle, he does say, “I want to live my life so my aura, when it leaves, is very bright.”

  What I know for sure: It is an awesome gift to be alive on this beautiful planet. And I want my time here to be as bright as it can be.

  I know for sure there is no real meaning to life without a spiritual component.

  Spirit to me is the essence of who we are. It doesn’t require any particular belief. It just is. And the key to this essence is simply being aware of the present moment. It’s transformative. It redefines what it means to be alive.

  Spirituality can be something as ordinary—and extraordinary—as giving your full-force, hundred-percent attention to another person, without thinking about what else you need to be doing right then. Or making an effort to do something good for someone. Or starting your day with a full moment of silence. Or waking up to literally smell the coffee, “tasting” its aroma through your senses, making every sip sheer pleasure, and when it’s no longer sheer pleasure, putting it aside.

  What I know for sure: The light in your life comes in, one conscious breath at a time.

  Breathe easy.

  My entire life is a miracle. And so is yours. That I know for sure.

  No matter how you came to be—whether you were wanted or “an accident” (as I was labeled for many years)—your being here to read these words is awesome.

  I say this not knowing the details of your life. What I do know is that every person carries her own story of hope and sorrow, victory and loss, redemption, joy, and light.

  Everyone has had her share of life lessons. How well you learn from them is up to you.

  When you choose to see the world as a classroom, you understand that all experiences are here to teach you something about yourself. And that your life’s journey is about becoming more of who you are. Another miracle: We all get to share in the journey.

  The hardest experiences are often the ones that teach us the most. Whenever trouble comes my way I try to ask myself: “What is this really about, and what am I supposed to learn from it?” Only when I perceive what the real lesson is can I make the best decision—and grow from the experience.

  After everything that’s happened to me in all my years on this earth, what I’m most proud of is that I remain open to evolving. I know that every physical encounter has a metaphysical meaning. And I’m open to seeing it all.

  I was lucky enough to spend some time in Fiji several years ago, and while I was there, I loved watching the waves break gently onshore.

  I think of each ripple as each of us in the sea that is life. We believe we’re all so different, but we’re not. We cover ourselves in customs and costumes of aspiration, struggle and victory, sacrifice and loss—and soon forget who we really are.

  One morning as I sat watching the waves, I e-mailed my poet friend Mark Nepo, whose Book of Awakening is a year’s worth of daily lessons for living a more intentional life. Mark’s e-mail response was this:

  YOU ASK ABOUT POETRY

  You ask from an island so far away

  it remains unspoiled. To walk quietly

  till the miracle in everything speaks

  is poetry. You want to look for poetry

  in your soul and in everyday life, as you

  search for stones on the beach. Four

  thousand miles away, as the sun ices

  the snow, I smile. For in this moment,

  you are the poem. After years of looking,

  I can only say that searching for

  small things worn by the deep is

  the art of poetry. But listening

  to what they say is the poem.

  I never thought of poetry that way before. But sitting on the edge of an island, I could feel that what Mark said in the rest of his e-mail was also true:

  “For me, poetry is the unexpected utterance of the soul. It is where the soul touches the everyday. It is less about words and more about awakening the sense of aliveness we carry within us from birth. To walk quietly till the miracle in everything speaks is poetry, whether we write it down or not. I confess I started out wanting to write great poems, only to be worn by life to wanting to discover true poems, and now in the second half of life, I feel humbled and excited to want to be the poem!”

  That, for sure, is an aspiration worth holding: to not just appreciate the poetry, but to be the poem.

  Spirituality for me is recognizing that I am connected to the energy of all creation, that I am a part of it—and it is always a part of me. Whatever label or word we use to describe “it” doesn’t matter.

  Words are completely inadequate. Spirituality is not religion. You can be spiritual and not have a religious context. The opposite is true, too: You can be very religious with no spiritual dimension, just doctrine.

  Spirituality isn’t something I believe in. It is what and who I am. Knowing this has made all the difference. It allows me to live fearlessly. And to make manifest the purpose of my creation. And I will be bold enough to say I know for sure it’s the greatest discovery of life: to recognize that you’re more than your body and your mind.

  Over the years, I’ve read hundreds of books that have helped me become more spiritually attuned. One of them in particular, A New Earth, by Eckhart Tolle, resonated so deeply with me that it caused a shift in the way I perceived myself and all things. The book is essentially about recognizing that you are not your thoughts, and seeing, then changing, the way your ego-based mind dominates your life.

  Allowing the truth of who you are—your spiritual self—to rule your life means you stop struggling and learn to move with the flow of your life. To quote from A New Earth: “There are three words that convey the secret of the art of living, the secret of all success and happiness: One With Life. Being one with life is being one with Now. You then realize that you don’t live your life, but life lives you. Life is the dancer, and you are the dance.”

  The joy and vitality that come from being that dance are unmatched by any pleasure you can imagine. What it takes, I’ve learned, is being committed to experiencing life’s spiritual essence. And that, as I’ve said in conversation with Eckhart Tolle, is a decision you make daily: to be in the world but not of it.

  Remember the Internet rumors about the year 2012? For those of you not familiar with the prophecies of global change (based partly on the cycles of the Mayan calendar), suffice it to say that some people predicted a cataclysmic collapse of human civilization, while others foresaw a time of spiritual transformation.

  Of course no one can predict the future, but one thing I do know for sure is the power of intention. And my intention is to approach every year as one of great promise. No doomsday for me: I hope to do my part, within myself and within the world, to bring about a shift that lets us live more authentically, more lovingly, more intuitively, more creatively, and more collaboratively. That’s my idea of spiritual evolution. Of a spiritual revolution!

  I chose to see 2012 as the dawning of a new year of alignment, because with alignment comes enlightenment. When you’re aligned with your heart’s desire, when you’re in sync with who you’re meant to be and how you’re supposed to contribute to our magnificent earth, you feel a shift in perception. You start to notice moments of what some people call serendipity but I like to call marvelisms. Because when I’m doing everything I’m meant to do to keep my mind, body, and spirit whole, I constantly marvel at how other experiences fall into place. It’s as thou
gh that beautiful line in Paulo Coelho’s novel The Alchemist comes true: “When you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you to achieve it.”

  My goal: to stay open to all the universe has to offer. Every year. Every day.

  One of the things I often ask God: Please show me who I really am.

  That may seem like an odd question. But as I go through life, I want to never lose sight of the truth of my existence. One of my favorite life quotes comes from the French philosopher-priest Pierre Teilhard de Chardin: “We are not human beings having a spiritual experience. We are spiritual beings having a human experience.”

  To make that experience as purposeful and poetic as possible is my heart’s single greatest desire for sure.

  Breathe with me for a moment. Place your hands on your stomach and feel it expand as you inhale. Then let it contract and deflate as you exhale. That cycle happens, on average, 720 times an hour, more than 17,000 times a day—without your even thinking about it.

  The biological wonder of a breath is so easy to take for granted, but every now and again I get still enough to notice it. And when I do: Wow! For sure I stand in awe of the miracle that is life.

  Walking barefoot across an earthy carpet of freshly mown grass. Wow, it feels so good!

  Another wow: Every night at sunset, friends and neighbors gather on my front porch to watch what we call the greatest show on Earth. We take pictures and compare the color variations of each magnificent light show as the sun dips below the horizon.

  One day not long ago it rained for four hours straight. A steady downpour, and then suddenly it stopped. Wow! Everything—trees, fences, sky—was luminescent.

  For me, nature is one great big wow after another, and sometimes its smallest offerings are the ones that open my soul to its splendor. For my birthday one year, a florist friend who has created spectacular arrangements of every sort gave me one of my most treasured gifts ever: two small leaves shaped like hearts. I keep them pressed between the pages of my favorite book, Eckhart Tolle’s A New Earth. Every time I open it, I am reminded how simple and beautiful life can be—if we choose to see it that way.

  Seeking the fullest expression of self. That’s the story of my life in six words—my personal definition of what I’m all about, at least for now. I think of it as my mini-memoir, but in writing it I was reminded that my definition has always been and still is evolving. Words I would have used last year don’t apply today. Because if we’re really committed to growth, we never stop discovering new dimensions of self and self-expression.

  A few years ago I went to Fairfield, Iowa—population 9,500, smack in the middle of Midwestern farmland, the last place you’d expect to get stuck in an evening traffic jam caused by hundreds of people heading off to practice transcendental meditation. But that’s what they do in Fairfield; in fact, it’s often referred to as TM Town. The action takes place in two golden dome-shaped buildings: one for the women, one for the men. Housewives, shop clerks, engineers, waitresses, lawyers, moms, single ladies, and me—we all gathered in our dome for the sole purpose of being still. Knowing that stillness is the space where all creative expression, peace, light, and love come to be.

  It was a powerfully energizing yet calming experience. I didn’t want it to end.

  When it did, I walked away feeling fuller than when I’d come in. Full of hope, a sense of contentment, and profound joy. Knowing for sure that even in the daily craziness that bombards us from every direction, there is—still—the constancy of stillness.

  Only from that space can you create your best work and your best life.

  I try to give myself a healthy dose of quiet time at least once—and when I’m on point, twice—a day. Twenty minutes in the morning, twenty in the evening. It helps me sleep better and focus deeper; it boosts my productivity and fuels my creativity.

  Try it yourself and I think you’ll agree that Glinda the Good Witch was right: “You’ve always had the power.” You just have to be still to find it. And when you do, you’re on the way to finding the fullest expression of you.

  I’ve always thought of myself as a seeker. And by that I mean my heart is open to seeing—in all forms—the divine order and exquisite perfection with which the universe operates.

  I am beguiled by the mystery of life. As a matter of fact, on my nightstand I keep a book called In Love with the Mystery, by Ann Mortifee. It’s full of tranquil photographs and bite-sized reminders of the preciousness of the wondrous journey we’re all on.

  Here is one of my favorite passages:

  “Let the power come. Let ecstasy erupt. Allow your heart to expand and overflow with adoration for this magnificent creation and for the love, wisdom, and power that birthed it all. Rapture is needed now—rapture, reverence, and grace.”

  I find solace and inspiration in those words. Too often we block the power that is ever-present and available to us, because we’re so wrapped up in doing that we lose sight of being.

  I often wonder what Steve Jobs saw when he uttered his last words: “Oh, wow. Oh, wow. Oh, wow.”

  I wonder if it was the same vision the mother of a 26-year-old cancer patient shared on my show years ago. With his last breath, her son had said, “Oh, Mom, it’s so simple.”

  I believe we make our paths far more difficult than they need to be. Our struggle with and resistance to what is entangles us in constant chaos and frustration—when it’s all so simple. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. And remember Newton’s third law of motion: For every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. The energy you create and release into the world will be reciprocated on all levels.

  Our main job in life is to align with the energy that is the source of all energies, and to keep our frequency tuned to the energy of love. This I know for sure.

  When that is your life’s work, mystery solved—or at least, the mystery no longer mystifies you. It only heightens the rapture, reverence, and grace.

  As the day got closer, I couldn’t stop silently rejoicing. I’d tell myself: I’m turning 60! I was so glad I’d lived long enough to say those words and celebrate their meaning.

  I’m turning 60. I’m alive. Healthy. Strong.

  I’m turning 60, and—please don’t take offense—I no longer have to be concerned about what anyone thinks of me! (You know, the old “Am I doing it right?” “Am I saying it right?” “Am I being what or who I’m ‘supposed’ to be?”)

  When I turned 60, I knew for sure that I’d earned the right to be just as I am. I’m more secure in being myself than I’ve ever been.

  I have reached the moment Derek Walcott describes in his beautiful poem “Love After Love”—“… with elation / you will greet yourself arriving/at your own door , in your own mirror/and each will smile at the other’s welcome.”

  I am in awe of the way my journey here on earth continues to unfold. My life has been marked by miracles for as long as I can recall (and even before, considering that my entire existence is the result of a onetime frolic under an oak tree). My early days speaking in a Mississippi Methodist church—Baptist leanings, shoutin’, and Holy Ghost included—prepared me for a future of speaking in a public arena I could never have imagined.

  And now I simply want to share what I’ve been given. I want to continue to encourage as many people as I can to open their hearts to life, because if I know anything for sure, it’s that opening my own heart is what has brought me my greatest success and joy.

  My highest achievement: never shutting down my heart. Even in my darkest moments—through sexual abuse, a pregnancy at 14, lies and betrayals—I remained faithful, hopeful, and willing to see the best in people, regardless of whether they were showing me their worst. I continued to believe that no matter how hard the climb, there is always a way to let in a sliver of light to illuminate the path forward.

  We go through life discovering the truth about who we are and determining who has earned the right to share the space within our heart.

&n
bsp; This I also know for sure: God—however you define or refer to Him, Her, or It—is for us. The forces of nature are for us, offering us life in abundance. We humans narrow what is an open field of wonder and majesty to the myopic reality of our day-to-day experiences. But there is extraordinary in the ordinary.

  Some days the awareness of the sanctity and sacredness of life brings me to my knees with gratitude. I’m still trying to wrap my head around the idea that the little girl from Mississippi who grew up holding her nose in an outhouse now flies on her own plane—my own plane!—to Africa to help girls who grew up like her. Amazing grace, how sweet the sound!

  I approached the milestone of 60 with humility, supreme thanksgiving, and joy. Knowing for sure grace has brought me safe thus far, and grace will lead me home.

  Clarity

  “First say to yourself what you would be; and then do what you have to do.”

  —Epictetus

  I was 40 years old before I learned to say no. In my early years of working in television, I was often overwhelmed by people’s view of me as a benevolent caregiver. Some would spend their last dime on a bus ticket to get to me, children would run away from home, abused women would leave their husbands and show up at the doorstep of my studio, all hoping I’d help. In those days, I’d spend a lot of energy trying to get a girl back to her family or hanging on the phone with someone who was threatening to kill herself. I found myself writing check after check, and over time that wore on my spirit. I was so busy trying to give all that everyone else needed me to offer that I lost touch with what I had a genuine desire to give. I’d been consumed by the disease to please—and often the word yes would be out of my mouth before I even knew it.