LEARNING OUR IDENTITY

          Charlie Chaplin (1889-1977) was an English comic actor and filmmaker who became one of the most famous and recognizable people in the world during the era of the silent film. Born into hardship and poverty, Charlie began working at a young age to help support his mother, performing variety shows in English music halls at a young age, then eventually graduated to acting in theaters, where he gradually developed a theatrical persona known as "The Little Tramp" who wore the signature mustache, ill-fitting suit and black derby hat that Charlie came to be identified with for the rest of his life.

FALSE IDENTITY
            Perhaps because he had to overcome so much adversity in order to succeed, he felt a strong need to control all aspects of his work. He created his own film company, United Artists, to distribute his movies, which he wrote, directed, produced, edited and composed the music for, casting himself as the lead actor. His silent films developed a large populist following throughout the world, in part because they weren't limited by language, but mostly because they featured the
Little Tramp's struggles against rich people, bureaucracy, hypocrisy and bad luck. Employing his unique blend of hilarious slapstick and deep pathos played out against a background of universal political and social themes, his fictional on-screen character was clearly fleshed out by his own, hard-won personal battles.
            At the height of his fame, during the Great Depression, there were several Charlie Chaplin Look-alike Contests, where people would compete for cash prizes by growing mustaches, dressing and walking like him. One day, the story goes, Chaplin found himself at a county fair where one such contest was being held, and entered anonymously, just for the fun of it. Imagine his surprise when he came in third place!

TRUE IDENTITY
            The story may be true, or it may be apocryphal, but it serves to remind us that it's seldom easy to be ourselves, much less get recognized for who we really are. And apparently, back then, just as now, it can be mighty hard to live up to our own self image, much less the image(s) that others may have of us. All the more reason to invest whatever time, energy and experiences it requires to learn how to identify who we truly are from the inside out, rather than relying on reports from the outer world to validate us...
At least, that's the role I've chosen to play - and I'm sticking to it.

With blessings on your path of Be-coming,
          Rudi        

BRUSHED BY CUPID

        In October of 1979, I was a twenty-seven-year-old, singer-songwriter whose life was sputtering, personally and professionally. In a few short months I'd lost my recording contract in London, moved back to San Antonio feeling defeated, divorced my high-school sweetheart, and gone through some semi-serious binging on "sex, drugs and rock-n-roll." Broke, sad and scared, I knew I'd hit bottom and that it was time to try a different approach to life, although I had no idea what that might look like.


        Earning enough to eat and pay the next month's rent was definitely a priority, so when Craig Pennel, a fan of my music, offered to hire me to paint houses with his company, it seemed worth a try, even though I'd never painted professionally before.


SPILLED PAINT
        But when I showed up at the jobsite the next day at a stately, two-story Victorian home in the historic King William neighborhood, Craig took one look at the thick, leather gloves I was wearing to protect my guitar-playing fingers, accurately assessed my level of inexperience and ordered me to brush a primer coat on an unobtrusive rear wall of the second floor. He assured me that it was a safe space to practice my technique, with only one caveat: "Whatever you do, don't spill any paint on that antique cedar-shingle roof," he said, gesturing to the porch beneath me.


Sure enough, within a few minutes, a whole quart of paint had slipped through my awkward, gloved hands and landed on the shingles with a loud splat that brought the crew leader scrambling up the ladder, lickety-split. She could easily have fired me on the spot, but instead she graciously offered to help me clean up the mess and remained friendly throughout the process of doing so, even though it took us the whole morning to get all the paint off.


When noon finally arrived, it only seemed fair to buy her lunch at El Mirador, a restaurant around the corner. Zet was so calm, friendly and easy to be with that before the meal was over she and I had become good friends; within two months we'd become constant companions and business partners, too. We got married on the Summer Solstice in 1981 and have enjoyed a wonderful relationship ever since.


SHARED CHOICES
        Thirty-five years later, I can still recall the look on her face as she came up that ladder, as clearly as if it had happened last week. Her immediate response to my messy mistake was so kind, so caring and non-judgmental, that it represented a major shift from how I'd experienced myself and the world up till then. There was no shame, no blame, no games; just possibilities for making new choices. In retrospect, I can see that the light shining out of her eyes in that moment was my introduction to a whole new way of life, one based on feeling unconditionally loved and loving; being compassionate toward myself and others; seeing life as a series of opportunities to practice being as loving as possible, whenever possible. What a wonderful teacher she was, and is, to this day.

Of course, it hasn't been all peaches and cream; Zet and I have certainly encountered our share of personal and professional challenges in our relationship. And sometimes I still feel so small and unloving that it scares me. But time and again, whenever difficulties arise, I remember what Zet and a number of other powerful teachers have helped me learn since that pivotal moment: that my true purpose in this lifetime is to experience, explore and express the free flow of Love. Period. Everything else is just details.


RENEWED FEELINGS
        So this year, as we prepare to celebrate Valentines Day, I pause once again to send a silent, heartfelt "thank you" to the memory of our Cupid: the late, much-missed, Craig Pennel. To feel gratitude for the gift of Zet in my life, as my wife, teacher, partner and best friend. But I also chose to stop and remember that, in the larger sense, every day is Valentines Day - an opportunity to be loving, kind and caring to ourselves, to each other and to every sister and brother we encounter along the way. That's my choice, and I'm sticking to it.

Wishing you love on Valentine's Day and every day,

         Rudi

BROADCAST SIGNALS

         If you were to turn on your TV and tune into almost any newscast, you'd be greeted with lots of graphic evidence that the world is in terrible shape, wracked by war, greed and environmental devastation.

         But instead of doing that, I invite you to spend the next nine minutes with me, co-creating your own "broadcast" - simply by seeing the world with the eyes of your heart, listening to new possibilities emerging in the space between your thoughts and broadcasting them into the world using your incredibly powerful gift of Imagination.

TUNE IN

         What follows is a beautiful song, "See Myself in You" ** along with a brief guided meditation on compassion, both of which were performed and recorded with the Circle Band last Sunday morning. It seemed like such a wonderful experience for everyone present, that I wanted to extend it to you here.

         This process is part of our participation in the 18th Annual Season for Nonviolence (SNV), which began on January 30th and is being celebrated by spiritual communities and organizations in 900 cities and 67 nations across the globe, including Celebration Circle. Sponsored by the Association for Global New Thought (AGNT.org), the SNV is an educational, media and grassroots awareness campaign spanning fromJanuary 30th to April 4th, memorializing the deaths of Mahatma Gandhi and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., with the aim of fostering peace through a wide variety of nonviolent actions and attitudes.

TURN WITHIN

         Won't you please click on the link at the end of this paragraph and join me in envisioning a world of peace and compassion for a few minutes? Granted, it's not a particularly high-quality recording, nor was my voice in very good shape that day and, for that matter, right now probably isn't the best time for you to pause and meditate with me for nine minutes, either. But... why wait for the perfect time, the perfect place, the perfect words before taking action?

         Co-creating a new, world-wide culture of peace is a huge undertaking that requires many people embracing a variety of efforts in a many different places. But who, if not you? And when, if not now?

         So, if you're willing, you're invited to take a deep, calming breath now and click below to begin...

 

CARRY ON

            Whether you've already opened that link or are waiting until later, thank you for considering the possibility of co-creating a new vision of peace, compassion and Oneness for ourselves and each other. You make a difference!

With blessings,

          Rudi

FEEDING THE BEAST

Once upon a time, long ago and far away in the peaceful, prosperous Italian town of Gubbio, the citizens woke to the grisly sight of a young woman's badly mangled body lying on the street, bearing clear signs of having been gnawed on. No one knew what had happened. But a few nights later, it occurred again to an elderly man; and later a child, and then another. People were frightened, not knowing who or what was responsible for these horrible deaths.

Finally, an old woman reported seeing a large wolf slinking through the shadows on a side street, causing even more fear. No one was willing to have anything to do with the beast, much less hunt it down. So the terrified townsfolk decided to seek out a holy man who lived in the region, because he had a reputation for being able to communicate with animals, and they thought he might be able to help the town deal with this nightmare.

A delegation arrived at the abbey where St. Francis lived, and asked him to talk to the wolf about obeying the commandment against killing, or, better yet, stay in the forest where wolves belong. Francis did as he was asked, went into the forest and met the wolf, addressing it as "Brother Wolf." Afterwards, he went to the town square and spoke to the anxious citizens gathered there, saying "Good people of Gubbio, the solution is quite simple: you must feed your wolf."

The townsfolk were outraged at the notion of feeding the beast, much less acknowledging it as "their wolf." But not having any other solution at hand, they followed Francis' advice and began feeding "their wolf" - and the killing stopped, leaving the people of Gubbio to live in peace again.

SEEING THE BEAST
When I first heard this story years ago, it was just another interesting, historical and perhaps apocryphal anecdote about St. Francis. But these days this legend speaks to me at a deeper level because, as difficult as it has been, I've gradually learned the importance of recognizing the presence of the "hungry wolf" that comes prowling through the streets and alleys of my life from time to time.

Mostly it tends to remain a nameless, shapeless fear that lurks in the shadows of my mind, something I'd rather not face or deal with. Very rarely is my fear based on an immediate danger (a raging fire, a coiled rattlesnake, a medical emergency). Almost always, it takes the vague, shadowy form of am unspecified feeling of unworthiness; a wringing concern about money; a bottomless well of worries about an upcoming event.

Whatever form it takes, if left unattended, it can eventually sneak into my body and leave me exhausted, perhaps even sick. More often, it simply devours big chunks of precious time and energy that are spent being unfocused, stressed and depressed.

FREEING THE BEAST
As far as I know, there's no way to kill it, medicate it or chase it away, although heaven knows I've tried such strategies often. Because the very act of attacking it in any way simply allows it to steal more and more of my time and energy. It's much healthier - and in the long run - much easier to face this "wolf" directly; to acknowledge it's presence, recognize it as "my" wolf and "feed" it with compassionate, non-judgmental attention, without getting caught up in the made-for-reality-TV drama of it all. Then, and only then, is the wolf free to slink back into the distant, misty forest of old memories, habits and patterns that it came from...

Granted, that's much easier said than done. It takes time, patience and persistence to develop the ability to see the wolf for the imaginary, self-constructed concept that it is. And it takes some degree of practiced skill to feed it with loving, non-resistance, from a space of compassionate detachment. I certainly haven't perfected this approach, and still find myself fighting the wolf more often than I'd care to admit. But at least I've learned to recognize the symptoms of the Wolf Attack Syndrome more quickly than before.

FEELING SUPPORT
Fortunately, I've also learned that I don't have to face the wolf alone, because Spirit is ever-present in the process, if I'll just remember to attune to the Presence through prayer and reflection. And that each time the wolf appears is actually a gift, providing another valuable opportunity to grow. That one of the benefits of having a regular meditation practice is that it helps develop that part of the Inner Self that is capable of observing circumstances unfold on the outer plane, without judgment or needing to change things. And that it's helpful to be part of a spiritual community, full of loving companions who can remind me about the truth when I forget what the wolf is (finite, illusory, powerless) and who I AM (infinite, loving, powerful).

Thank you for being part of that community. I trust that you, too, feel that the Celebration Circle helps you deal with challenges as they arise. Whether you live locally or far away, attend Circle events often or not, your love and support play an integral part in helping me, and countless other individuals, remain focused on the positive power of unconditional love, which is more than a match for any "wolf" or challenging circumstance. At least, that's my story, and I'm sticking to it.

With blessings,
    Rudi

Lesson about humanity

I've been writing a piece in this Around the Circle space just about every week for the past seven years, and hope to continue doing so for a long time to come, because it's one of the favorite parts of my work with the Circle. But when Zet and I read the commentary (below) that Sonia Lopez posted about her experience at the MLK March, it felt like something we wanted share with the wider Circle community, because it's such a wonderful illustration of the practical applications of spiritual principles in daily life, which lie at the heart of what the Circle is all about. Sonia is the Development Director/Volunteer Coordinator at Haven for Hope (havenforhope.org), a place for people experiencing homelessness in San Antonio. She is also a yoga instructor teaching classes for children at the Southtown Yoga Loft (southtownyogaloft.com). She and her husband, David, and their children, Zach and Olivia are an integral part of the Circle family, and have been instrumental in fostering the growing energy of our Children's Circle program.
              With rich blessings,
                    Rudi


There was a lesson about humanity hidden inside of today's MLK March for me and my friend, Emily. It started with two moms' ideal, romanticized version of what an over-three-mile walk would be like with our four kids. I don't know about Emily, but I envisioned my little ones gasping in disbelief at the immensity of the crowd gathered to pay tribute. I fast-forwarded to when they were thirty years old, citing today as a positively pivotal moment in their childhoods. I think there may have even been a song playing in the backdrop..."Wind Beneath My Wings" or something like it.

Instead, we soon realized that three miles can feel more like a twenty-mile-hike to little legs, that a wagon is hell-on-wheels when you're pointed uphill, paletas will give the kids a sugar rush and it's a good idea to note where you parked your car...that is, if you want to get home.

At the end of the march, we were human. We were hungry, tired, and frustrated. So we practiced humanity. We laughed, we hugged and we thanked each other. Because, no matter what, inside of every circumstance, we should always at least try to choose love.

 

Emily, Lilah, Olivia, Sonia, Zach & Charlie in their wagon at the MLK March 2015

THE BEAT GOES ON

           The photo of Barbara (pictured left) isn't a very good one, and doesn't begin to do justice to her radiance and beauty, much less the grace and enthusiasm with which she was dancing to the beat of "La Bamba" at the time this photo was taken. Hopefully you can still see the sheer joy of movement she was expressing. But what you probably can't see very well is the wheelchair in the background, and therein lies a tale.

            Ever since moving into a nursing home several years ago, Barbara has spent most of her time confined to that wheelchair. According to her, it had been "a long, long time" since she'd last danced, but there she was, rising up out of that wheel chair, swinging and shimmying from side to side with the sweetest smile imaginable.

            I went to that nursing home to perform a concert sponsored by the Texas Music Heritage Foundation of Kerrville,www.TexasHeritageMusic.org

, an amazing non-profit organization founded by writer and musicologist, Kathleen Hudson, who is fully committed to reminding people that "telling stories and singing songs make a difference." I've enjoyed performing a number of these THMF shows at various residential care centers and educational settings, and each has proven to be an interesting adventure in letting go of limited beliefs and expectations.

FEELING BEAT

            The residential center where Barbara lives was actually the last of the three different residential care facilities where I was scheduled to perform that day. The first one had been a particularly tough audience to engage, due to the fact that the majority of the 25 people "attending" were actually fast asleep in their wheel chairs, and all but a few of the ones who were awake didn't seem very interested in listening to me play in their dining room, much less participating. Still, I take seriously the biblical reminder that wonderful things are possible "wherever two or more are gathered in the name of Love," so I just focused intently on the three that were interested initially, until eventually the good vibes we generated rippled through the room and a few others joined in the fun, too.

            Afterwards, the THMF Program Director and the facility's Activities Director both declared the event a success, but I felt pretty bummed out, because it had been so challenging I wasn't at all sure that I had enough energy left to perform at the two other facilities scheduled later that afternoon. But as I sat eating lunch at a local café, I realized my mistake:  I'd been trying too hard to "make it happen" by myself, by sheer force of willpower and stagecraft, rather than simply sharing my music as skillfully as possible without being attached to how much the audience members did or did not like the tunes.

FEELING BLESSED

            So in the space between lunch and my next show, I did my best to arrive with an open heart, prepared to meet the residents wherever they were energetically and let go of my expectations and desired outcomes. Sure enough, both shows were much more enjoyable for me and everyone else involved, ending with the singular sight of Barbara rising up out of her wheelchair, ever so slowly and precariously, before she was finally able to get on her feet. There she was, careening to the beat of "La Bamba", lurching through a series of scary-looking balancing acts that spontaneously morphed into a heart-achingly enthusiastic dance, causing several nurses, administrators and maintenance staffers to coming running down the hall in amazement as word rapidly spread through the ward, "Barbara's up out of her wheelchair and dancing!!!"

            I've been blessed to receive many standing ovations during my career, but this was by far the most rewarding one in memory. Thank you, Barbara, for demonstrating the true power of trust and Spirit in action!

With joy,

        Rudi

 

OFF TO A GREAT START

       

           It's one of those beautiful, sunny winter days that the San Antonio Chamber of Commerce likes to brag about to would-be visitors from up north. It's just 65 degrees, but it feels much warmer under clear blue skies as a slow, soft, southerly breeze prevails, ahead of the cold front forecast to blow into town tomorrow night. I can't help but grin from within as I review the many personal and professional blessings swirling through my life.

            A number of frisky squirrels, dogs, cardinals and honeybees are delighting in the gloriousness of this day while I take advantage of this magnificent sunshine to hang a load of laundry on the clothesline, pick some fresh collard greens and green onions from the garden for tonight's pot of soup, and cover our herb garden in advance of tomorrow's plunge of temperatures into the mid-20's.

BLESSED SPACE

            Even something as simple as hanging the clothes on the line, one garment at a time, feels like a totally luxurious experience as I become mindful of the movements involved, grateful for the ease of motion in a healthy body, thankful for the resources to buy, wear and care for these clothes.

            Looking down into the grass, I unexpectedly encounter several patches of arugula growing wild beneath my feet, and harvest some of it for a salad to eat with our soup, too. Sometimes called "salad rocket" or "roquette", these tasty greens have a rich, savory flavor that can fetch top dollar in gourmet markets, but here they are, growing wild and free for the taking, right in our back yard.

MEETING SPACE

            Writing these words while basking in the sunshine, I'm grateful for the freshness of the New Year and the first full moon of 2015. It makes my heart smile to think of the many blessings we've been experiencing in the Circle community recently, beginning with the strong wave of positive energy that was generated in last Sunday's Morning Circle, when we officially moved into our new meeting location at Say Sí.  It was so stimulating to write our Letters of Affirmation while seated in the new gallery wing of this inspiring art institute, surrounded by the creative energies of the many talented teenagers who explore, express and exhibit their artistry here. I can't help but believe that the seeds of consciousness planted in those self-addressed letters we wrote on Sunday will bear marvelous fruit in many different ways in the days and months to come.

BACK IN PLACE

            It's also exciting to be meeting once again in the historic, arts and cultural district that is the King William neighborhood. Ironically, it's just across the intersection from JumpStart Theater, where we met from July 2005 through November 2013. Only this time our meeting space is an art gallery that is bright, colorful and full of natural light, instead of being a black-box theater.

            And it's very affirming to know that our Year-End Fundraising Campaign was such a success, with a final tally of $9,600 that surpassed our goal of erasing the deficit in our 2014 Operations Fund and helped us start 2015 on firm financial footing.

EXPANDING SPACE

            As we prepare to enter the 23rd year of sharing our co-creative approach to spirituality in South Texas and beyond, it's heartwarming to feel like we're basking in the radiant light of love flowing through our community. I hope that you, too, feel yourself flourishing in the ever-expanding field of possibilities that is the Celebration Circle - as we continue to cultivate this rich field together.

With gratitude and blessings,

          Rudi