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Greetings myss Subscribers,

I wanted to inform all that are interested that Caroline is writing actively on facebook .

Once registered on facebook, please go to the Caroline Myss fan Page.

Caroline's last post on facebook.

So after a long two days of recording, "Navigating Hope", (and my deepest thanks to all the wonderful people who traveled in to participate as my audience), the gang gathered at my place for pizza. Ellen had just completed a brilliant chapter in her upcoming book, "Reunion"; Jill is busy as ever with her managing authors and her new task of strategizing ways to fund land to help save the very few white lions left in Africa; Bronwyn was kind enough to join me at the recording studio in between her own career of working with clients - and of course, no gathering is complete without my mom, Dolores...and Abbie. For all the rich conversations a group of us are capable of having, what does Ellen bring up? She discovered a bunch of ants in her cabinet because maple syrup had dribbled onto the cabinet shelf. Well, and so? I'd take a vacuum cleaner and poof - they're off onto their next incarnation as bees or toads or whatever. But not Ellen. She does a "maple syrup circle" in her cabinet so all the little ants can come out and have a nice meal before she scoops them up and carries them outside...at least that was her plan. (By this time, I'm imagining my Halloween costume....coming to her door in a six foot ant outfit...you get the picture: Knock-knock...can I come in with all my friends????). The long and the short of El's story is that she says that because she fed these ants a maple syrup meal, they just packed up and left. Left? Left for where? Another cabinet? The basement nightclub? Like where? Ants may be small but they're not that stupid. They know maple syrup is expensive...and they are coming back for MORE. I say: kill the buggers. 

It's not like El doesn't have what it takes to "do in" a creature or two. I mean I had a mouse in my house a few months ago and it was not a pleasant experience, let me tell you. Now I lived on a farm for ten years and never had a mouse in my house. Why? Well, it wasn't because Ellen was around..let me tell you. It was because I had a cat named, Mousetrap. It was her job to keep the place mouse-free...and she did just that. Abbie, on the other hand, is useless in this regard. So anyway, I found out I had this mouse in my house...so what to do? I grabbed Ellen and Bronwyn and we headed to the hardware store immediately to get mousetraps - not the cat sort, but the real kind. Ellen's had experience with killing mice. We arrived at exactly one minute after the store had closed but I was desperate. I pounded on the door - literally - while screaming, 'You don't understand. I have a mouse in my house. You have to let me in. This is a matter of life or death." Of course I meant the mouse's life or death. My begging had no effect. We were forced to head off to....where did we go? Menard's? Some place like that. And if you can believe this...I meet a man in the "mousetrap aisle" who was a sort of expert on exactly this problem. He suggested I get these sticky traps, not the quick, snap ones...that, let me say, Ellen, the queen of the maple syrup ant colony, suggested. So I bought a bag full of them. We headed back to my place and the three of us held a mouse-trap-conference, deciding where to place these things. We had to be cautious, lest Abbie end up with four paws glued to mouse traps. So there we are, wondering around my basement and kitchen (where the mouse was last spotted), acting as if we spoke "mouse" fluently. "Put one here. Mice hang out in places like this." They do? After that, Ellen and Bronwyn abandoned me....leaving me to wait it out by myself. Oh, I had Abbie...but as I said, she's useless in emergencies. Days went by and no sign of a mouse. (Was it in Ellen's maple syrup cabinet perhaps?) 

Then the fateful afternoon finally arrived. As I walked down the back stairs into my kitchen, I noticed that one of the traps was missing from its well placed location - meaning Abbie could not have moved it. My heart started pounding. I peaked around the corner and sure enough - the mouse in my house was stuck to the trap. I grabbed another trap and put it on top of the mouse (after putting on my designer kitchen gloves, of course), and then tossed the "mouse trap sandwich" into a baggie, zipped it up and threw it in a trash can. Bingo. Done. 

I phoned El and Bronwyn...and what does Ellen say? (This is the same Ellen who suggested that I purchase the snap traps that fling their heads to the other side of the room because that snap comes down so fast). So Ellen says, "Are you sure it's dead?"

What?????? 

"Well, I mean, it should die humanely."

This is a rodent, Ellen....not a dog, not a cat, not a pet. It is a disease-carrying rodent that has come out of the sewer. 

"I don't want it to suffer," she says.

WHAT?

Ellen - I didn't torture the creature. I'm not Cheney. It died a respectable mouse-death. 

Honestly - are people curious? Ellen, of course, is a naturally compassionate being so truly her care of life - all life - is congruent with her heart and soul, which is why I can tease her a bit. But not matter what we do or talk about or end up laughing about, inevitably I find that it leads me to think about something more significant when I am alone with my own thoughts - after the gang of four has gone home for the evening. Compassion is truly a courageous grace and I will admit right here that I do not have a compassionate streak in me for rodents.

But the grace of compassion is powerful medicine. It takes a great deal of courage to refine a compassionate heart...not a heart full of pity but a truly compassionate heart. The mystics speak about having deep pain in their hearts, so much pain sometimes that they could hardly bare it. I do believe the pain they wrote about and spoke about was the pain of being compassionate, of refining their heart in such a way that the pain of others could find refuge and sanctuary in their hearts. The mind in us cannot refine our heart in such a manner; only grace can do that - and prayer. So as I say, it takes courage to look upon our fellow human beings with a compassionate heart and to make a decision deep within yourself that you want your heart to hold such a grace. That is a profound choice, one that truly serves humanity....something to reflect on, yes? 

So that's life in the hood this evening....pizza, good friends, ants, a rodent...and the grace of compassion. What a night, huh?

xo

caroline

PS - Oh, lest I forget, Andrew shows up at my door the other night with a shopping bag full of my Tupperware. He has this big smile on his face...as if to say, "See?" And then of course he waltzes into my house with this bag full of Tupperware, as if to "prove" to me - which means to all of you - that he is capable of returning my Tupperware. But here's the thing....he doesn't mean it. What I mean by that is that if I hadn't forced his hand, do you really think he would have walked down here with a sack full of my Tupperware????? Let me tell you....no. It would still be in his freezer - empty, of course. How do I know this?? Because I know Andrew so well! He is NOT kidding me...and he is not going to get away with this act. Returning my Tupperware when I know he doesn't mean doesn't count. How will he ever get out of this one, eh? Hum....

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