Living Long, Living Passionately. Karen Casey

to a better choice, a saner perspective, a softer, kinder feeling within. What brought me to this new experience of faith, this place of wellbeing, was two decades of near constant alcohol and drug use that could have ended my life. But I reached that new place. I arrived at a saner, faith-filled place with the help of friends who had been sent to make sure I'd arrive. The place had a name; it was called Alcoholics Anonymous.

      I don't mean to suggest that anyone else needs to travel my path to find faith, to reach that peaceful place of knowing that everything is okay. But that's what I had to do. We can get here following any number of paths. There is no right one. The goal is just to seek a path until you find it, then travel it, share what you know if someone expresses an interest, model faith for others without making a point of it, and give it away when you can so that it can be kept. Having faith is like having the gold ring in your pocket that you grabbed on the merry-go-round when you were a child. That ring promised you another ride whenever you wanted to claim it. Like faith, it would always be there. And even when you used it, you knew another gold ring was yours for the taking.

      It's funny, really; I don't even ponder my faith any longer. I simply live it. I never doubt that God is present, that all is well, that what I need to experience will come calling, that who I need to meet might be around the next bend in the road. Even when I don't like what might be happening, I know that what is happening is the next right experience for me. My faith has taught me that. Again and again. And life feels simple and calm and intentional. Most of all, it feels purposeful. I do what's on the chart for me, and God is pleased. This I believe.

      Are you at peace?

      Has your life measured up in the way you had hoped it would?

      Do you long for a more faith-filled life?

      It's not too late to create it. Here are some suggestions that I can vouch for. Maybe one or two will appeal to you:

      1. Make a list of what you are grateful for in your life. How has each one made you a better person?

      2. Make a practice of having a short conversation with God each morning, either right before your feet hit the floor or right after.

      3. Ask him for his help in everything you are called on to do.

      4. Be prepared to thank God throughout the day for all of the little miracles that seem to be happening, miracles you might not have noticed before.

      5. Be ready and willing to help the first person you meet. At the very least, greet him or her with a smile.

      6. And if you are still failing to connect with God, write him a note and ask for help.

      7. Share with your closest friend a few of the events in your life when God “showed up.”

      8. Keep a list of these special experiences close at hand for those times that you doubt his availability.

      Now relax. God is in charge and he doesn't need your help today.

      4

      Rapt Attention

      Rapt attention is the greatest gift we can give to one another, to the natural world around us, to all that's seen and not seen but only felt. Being fully present to all is how we acknowledge and honor God.

      At least thirty-five years ago, my husband, an artist who works in many media, created a beautiful eight-foot cross that was to be carried by the priests at St. Stephen's Church in their ceremonial processionals. He asked me if I could think of a good quote to embed in the base of the cross, and I suggested: “Rapt attention is the greatest gift we can give to one another.” I continue to believe it is the greatest gift.

      One of the beauties of this gift is its simplicity. We don't need any special qualities to do it. We need nothing more than desire. And then the willingness to bestow our attention on whoever stands before us, knowing that he or she has been summoned by the Spirit within, unabashedly summoned.

      I haven't always been comfortable with the idea that I, that we, summon whoever comes to greet us. All those “greeters” have one thing in common: they serve as teachers within the curriculum we have designed. But with Caroline Myss's help, I grew to trust the idea. Myss is a spiritual intuitive who has written many books, including Sacred Contracts: Awakening Your Divine Potential. That book moved me to my acceptance of the idea, an idea that has been more transformative than any singular idea I have ever been introduced to: not one person who has ever signaled to me, who has ever boldly or quietly caught my attention, was on my radar screen willy-nilly. And with my acceptance of that came profound awe.

      Perhaps you are doubtful of the veracity of this idea. I certainly was when I first heard it. And even after I had inched closer to believing it, I still had reservations. How could the one who had abused me at such a young age have been summoned by me? Myss's explanation was that we “designed” our lessons, and “our partners” agreed to be part of our learning. There was no judgment, good or bad, attached to the lessons. They simply were the experiences that defined our lives, in the process making us more whole, more spiritual, more necessary to the remaining people we'd meet and learn to love.

      Before going a step further, close your eyes and remember one of your “lessons” that has helped you be who you are today. In your journal, share what you realize now was the specific enhancement to your life that resulted from the experience. Do you now relish the lesson in spite of how it no doubt looked and felt at the time of the teaching?

      Forgiveness was my lesson. A profound expression of forgiveness that only came after I was drawn to offer it to the perpetrator of my abuse in the silence of my mind. I'm relieved to tell you that my life never felt the same once I got to the big “payoff.” The willingness to forgive was the first step, of course. The forgiveness, itself, is what transformed me, and I believe it is what transforms all of us.

      You may be wondering how this story of mine relates to rapt attention, what I consider to be our greatest gift. Here is how I see it. The perpetrator, in a sense, demanded my attention because of the experience itself. But then what remained for years in my mind was the shadow of the experience, always taking away from the attention that the person standing before me deserved.

      My introduction to Myss and her theory about all of the people who make the journey with us jarringly established that he, too, had been a necessary part of my journey. When I sought to understand why such an invasive lesson was necessary, I was shown that forgiveness, one of the hardest of all human challenges, when fully practiced, changes us profoundly in all the right ways. It transforms us into the people who can eventually heal others by our example. And that oftentimes it demands harsh experiences to elicit its full impact.

      I know I was forever changed. And the rapt attention everyone is deserving of can now be expressed. Completely. Do I give that attention always? Of course not. Life is a series of missteps. But I still have the last quarter of life to practice in. The last quarter. Sounds a bit ominous. But that's all in the choice. I can see it as the best quarter of all because my worries are few. And you? You can make this choice too.

      Your most important lesson: What was it? How have you grown from it?

      What does the concept of rapt attention mean to you? Is it a gift that you bestow freely on others?

      1. Share about these two ideas in your journal.

      2. Tell a friend why he or she is important to you. It's an exercise that will have a profound impact on your