Lately the most important thing I do with my time is to learn...from the most extraordinary teachers. Teachers surround us, in every walk of life, every color, shape, fashion choice and hair-do. They pop their heads around corners, smile at us, let us know that they are there to support and protect us. They are similar to angels and if we are open to listening, they will teach us. Hooo boy, will they teach us.

I have a few favorite teachers in my life. My most favorite has always and continues to be my daughter. I recently heard from someone that babies can’t “hug,” because they are so young or whatever reason this person gave. When Hayley was only a baby, as I held her, she threw her arms around my neck, in a hug. She knew what loving meant, young or not. Her newly earthed soul was ancient yet she remembered who she was, who she was meant to be, in her new life—the most loving spirit.

Today she soothes my broken heart—as I regale the latest with my male friend and I. I’m having a tough day, a challenging life these days and Hayley loves to be able to lend me her wisdom. As long as I share my life with her, make her a vital part of it (as she will always be), she wants to be there for me, as I have been there for her. A therapist friend once told me, “You are one another’s rock.” We hold the space of strength for one another, when the other is breaking and not bending.

Her words comfort my heart and our hugs are priceless. I teach her the Sufi way of hugging; first we hug on the left side, then pause to look into one another’s eyes, then hug on the right side, the other’s heart side. She gets a kick out of this—this silliness that her mom insists on doing. Yet she indulges me.

Another favorite teacher is one I met recently. He is teaching me to live with a “Christ Consciousness,” something I would have most definitely rebelled against five years ago.  Just those words would have rubbed me the wrong way. Yet now, more experienced and familiar with the meaning of the words, I am comfortable with that term. I understand that it means to love with a willing, forgiving heart and to let love pour from within.

Recently when things seemed to go sour with my male friend and I, this teacher friend set me straight. He talked about “showing up,” by taking charge of my life instead of waiting for this guy to call me, where I was courting disappointment; he said to call him and to speak my voice, my truth and to ask that he speak his. To let this guy know that truth is vital to me—and being a grown woman, I can handle it. And if I feel I can’t, then I can handle my own feelings about it.

The results were powerful. Instead of waiting around for this guy to call and to perhaps say things I didn’t want to hear, I called him. I was straightforward; in fact, I was a bit riled. Was he playing games with me, I wondered and asked him? (He had emailed earlier about the best time to call me, when in fact, I told him that if he had called and it wasn’t a good time, I could call him back at a later, more convenient time.) Why is everyone so reluctant to “show-up,” these days?

In our ensuing conversation, magic happened. My “voice” became clear as I expressed myself to him and was able to be open enough for him to express his voice. He vocally confirmed something that I had suspected in my heart, yet he hadn’t talked about—until today. And in my Christ Consciousness eyes and heart, I was able to truly listen, hear his concern and fears: All I wanted to do was to tell him that everything was going to be alright, that I would do what I could to assail his fears in the most loving way that I knew how. It’s not what would have happened five years ago.

In my ego mind as a writer, the importance of having my words out there and read are so strong that I can easily and guiltlessly lay aside any kinds of fears from anyone else who is involved in my life and in fact, is written about. The weight of my words has always meant more to me than the person I am writing about. Suddenly—this has all shifted.

One of my friends asked me, “How would you feel if someone wrote about you, on the Internet?” I laughed at their question, more of a comment. Yet today I didn’t laugh at my friend’s pouring out of his heart, to me. In his courageous sharing I understood how someone on the “other side” might feel. How someone other than myself has feelings about certain things. And I vowed not to make public what I personally have considered not a big deal all these years, at his request. And in doing so, not only did it make him feel great beyond words, it also made me feel like a million bucks. 

His teachings are priceless to me, whether he knows and understands that or not. And as long as he is in my life, I am open to learning, forgiving and circulating the love and clarity that relationships can bring us.