“Love, Shia” (edit)

(Edited to add a simple but worthy change.)

Every day, I watch the battle of my Ego and my Source. I’m always wrestling with quieting my ego versus seeing the God in all I meet and yet, seeing God in all I meet creates such peace in me, peace I so desire.  Why then, is it so difficult to call upon my Source?

What is this “I” that I say wants peace?  I used to think, rather one-dimensionally, that “I” was just one entity … but I’m not.  I consist of two entities; my ego and my Source, or my God.  Sometimes I think it’s difficult to call upon my Source because my ego is fighting for its life and since I desire the peace my Source provides, I know they both cannot co-exist. 

Every day, in every encounter, I have the opportunity to engage with my ego or my Source; to come from fear or to come from love.

My ego gives me the tools of anger, blame, condemnation, superiority, judgment, snippy responses, put-downs, attacks, pain, sorrow, need, pity, feeling sorry for myself or others, crying, loss, retaliation, shame, blame, etc.

My Source gives me the tools of, seeing the God in everyone I meet, knowing that everything that happens, happens for a reason and I have something to learn from it; knowing that life works out just like its supposed to.

At this Holiday time I’m especially sensitive to the God in me and wonder why I don’t call on my Source with the same frequency during other times of the year.  It is always there for me to call upon and it brings me such peace, why don’t I always call upon it?

“You want to change the world?  Change yourself first.  When you change your mind, the things you look at, the things you experience … change.”

Shia was mentally retarded, and physically awkward as well.  Shia’s father would sometimes get fed up with the challenges, raise his fists to the sky and angrily ask God, "Okay, God, where’s your perfection here? Where is your perfection?”

One day, when Shia was about 7, he and his dad were walking by the park when they passed some kids playing baseball. "Dad, could I play?" Shia asked. His father was distraught; again, another chance to see his imperfect son fail in a social situation. However, the father walked over to the coach and asked him if Shia could bat once. The coach asked him to wait a minute while he consulted with the other team’s coach. Soon he returned and much to the father’s surprise, the coach said Shia could bat. "Probably because they were already ahead by 5 runs," the father thought.

Soon after, the opposing team hit several runs, tying the game. It was Shia’s turn at bat however; it was the last at bat in the last inning with two outs and one on base. A solid hit would win; an out would lose the game for Shia’s team. Would they let him bat?

 To the father’s surprise, they did.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Shia clumsily approached the plate and as he’d never played baseball, he didn’t even know how to hold a bat and it showed. He held the bat awkwardly,

and on his first swing caught air and swung himself completely around.

The pitcher stepped forward a couple of steps so he could lob the next ball underhand, making it easier for Shia. One of the team came up out of the dugout and stood behind Shia, arms over his shoulders, hands on the bat with Shia’s. Together they swung at the next pitch, “Strike Two!”

Again, the pitcher moved in a few more feet. Screams of encouragement came from the stands and both dugouts, “Come on Shia, you can do it.”

The third pitch … Shia and his helper swung and connected … a bouncing grounder rolling to a stop at the pitcher’s feet. Shia ran towards first.

The pitcher slowly picked up the ball and threw it, deliberately … about ten feet over the first baseman’s head. "Run, Shia, RUN!” everyone screamed, pointing him toward second. Shia ran, squealing and laughing with delight. At second he became confused, turning back toward first. The second baseman grabbed him and physically turned him toward third.

As Shia approached third, the first baseman threw the ball  — and again, ten feet over the third baseman’s head. Shia ran toward home to the crowd’s excited screams of, “Run Shia, RUN!”

 

 

As Shia crossed over home plate, both dugouts emptied and both teams hoisted him over their heads to the delirious screams of the crowd.

Shia laughed and laughed and laughed.

On that day, at that moment, Shia’s father and everyone else who witnessed the event, learned that God’s perfection, as manifested in his son, wasn’t in his intelligence or his physical prowess, but in the humanity he could elicit in others: in the coach, the kids who let him play, the helper, the crowd … it was everywhere that day.*

Did God enter that game?  If so, when?  Did it happen when the father asked the coach if his son could have one at bat; or when the coach said yes; or when the pitcher made his pitches easier, or with the batting helper, or the screams of encouragement from the team, or the crowd?

Or … did God enter with Shia’s simple request of his father … as He would for us with a simple request of our Father?  (Click "View" and turn your sound up)

How do YOU define Love?

Finally, will you join me in challenging ourselves to call upon our Source with more frequency during the coming year?  Jesus, Buddha, God, The Light, Energy, Source, Wisdom … it doesn’t matter what we call it.  Don’t we need to connect with our spiritual side more?

"Please Jesus, help me to see the world as you do."

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God bless you at this holiday time,

Nunzio

"Your attitude, your actions, your comment – will it add to the sadness and hurt of someone and thereby, the world?  Or, will it add to the love and kindness which might heal us and make us whole?  It’s your choice."

(More Random Acts of Kindness)  

* This is a true story. I first heard it from Dr. Wayne Dyer

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