I’ve chosen that double-dip name for my blog (Sophy-wisdom), first because Sophy is my Christened name, spelt like that, with a “y,” and then because all my life I’ve been straining and struggling to find wisdom.
My friend’s beloved and aged dog died not long ago. My friend was in a state of grief and there I sat helpless to comfort her—for what can assuage the loss of a dog, or cat, a horse, mouse, parrot, or pet snake? Our animal relationships are pregnant with meaning and almost as profound as the loss of a child. Where do our animals go when they die?
A few days ago I received a chain e/mail with a quote promising that something would happen on the fourth day, presumably something quite lovely. I usually just click delete, but in this case I read the thing all the way through and passed it along to eight other women, carefully choosing those who I thought might not be offended. Here is the quote:
May today there be peace within. May you trust that you are exactly where you are meant to be. May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith in yourself and others. May you use the gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you. May you be content with yourself just the way you are. Let this knowledge settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love. It is there for each and every one of us.
Like many people I’m hooked on Downton Abbey, the new “Masterpiece Theater” now showing on PBS. I’m so engaged that it’s hard to imagine that some people still haven’t heard of this stunning TV show about the inhabitants of a Great House in Yorkshire just before and during the First World War.
What makes the show outstanding is not only the brilliant script or the acting or the ravishing costumes that make you want to wear hats again and change into gowns for dinner; what is exceptional is that each of the characters is behaving as far as possible from the highest moral and ethical code, each one striving to do what is right when it is not always clear; and that it is in the clash of ethics that dramatic conflict arises.
I’ve been thinking lately about how skittish angels are— “Now you see them, now you don’t”; and about how hard it is to hold onto those compelling moments when something extraordinary uplifted you with joy—the sense that “all is right with the world,” or,” I am loved!”
Sometimes it is an angel, sometimes it’s another human who says just what you needed to hear at that moment. Sometimes it comes—this acute awareness—when watching the surge of the sea against the shore, or the moon sailing through night-clouds in the high domed dark. Everyone has such experiences, and then they pass, and we are left wondering: Did that really happen? And why can’t I hold onto the exquisite euphoria?
Not long ago I received an email from a woman, asking if a quote attributed to me was really mine. Her letter read:
“Mrs. Burnham,
���� I receive a quote of the day by email every morning. Recently, the following quote was attributed to you:
“To believe in God or in a guiding force because someone tells you to is the height of stupidity. We are given senses with which to receive our information. With our own eyes we see, and with our own skin we feel. With our intelligence, it is intended that we understand. But each person must puzzle it out for himself or herself.”
– Sophy Burnham
Is this quote correctly attributed to you? If so, could you please explain it to me in greater detail, because I don’t quite understand the point that you were trying to get across. Judging from the books you’ve written, you seem to be fairly religious with a belief in God. I’m just a bit confused. Thank you for your response.”
Not long ago I gave a reading to woman in California by Skype. For many years she had listened to my tapes from Sounds True on mysticism “Piercing the Veil” and on prayer “When you are Hurting and in Need.” She reminded me of how powerful the human voice can be.
Recently the Washington Post reviewed a new book Dangerous Instincts, by Monica Hesse writing about Mary Ellen O’Toole. (View Article Here) For 30 years O’Toole worked for the FBI. She interviewed the Unibomber, worked on abduction cases and investigated torturers, serial killers and serious crazies of all types, including the Green River Killer, who disposed of 49 women in Washington State during the 1980s and ‘90s. She says the most dangerous criminals often came across as harmless, and that people should not trust their intuition about these psychopaths: Interviewing neighbors, she finds statements like: “He was low-key. He was nice. He didn’t swear. He was a churchgoer.” Or, “I just looked at him, and I could tell he was a good guy.” Don’t trust your intuition, O”Toole concludes. It may be seriously flawed.
Since my book, The Art of Intuition: Cultivating Your Inner Wisdom, Tarcher, 2011), takes the opposite position — ALWAYS Trust your intuition– I feel obliged to argue.
