Leaping into Life

"it takes courage to be who you really are” e.e. cummings

The above words providentially graced the promotional postcard for my first public book reading last Saturday night in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Wow! It took more courage than I ever dreamed I had to put myself out there and LEAP into a wild new world! It only seems appropriate that on Leap Day I choose to commemorate that magnificent jump into the public limelight.

Even now my heart beats quickly and tears form in my jet-lagged eyes as I think of my precious time away. The fullness of the whole experience resonates deeply and I know that for a few moments in time I was a shining star spreading my magic into the world.

Leap Day 2008, I sat solo in a Paris café (surprising even myself) and this year I recall perching on a bar stool in the spotlight and glow of my own dreams surrounded by a rapt audience (yet one more surprise). Saturday night was amazing – terrifying – exhilarating – complete. It was absolutely perfect with the finest spectators I could imagine. This shy girl who has been known to sprout hives just thinking of speaking in public loved being on that raised stage. Woohoo! As I entered the coffee house and took my place on the platform flashes of failure and stage fright flew through my mind and body. Freeze? Flee? Or become FREE? Those seemed to be my choices... To free myself, I turned to As I Lay Pondering and offered Anyone There?—one of my most vulnerable pieces.

Will you read my work? Hold my hand? Laugh at my jokes? Kiss my lips? Notice my hair? Anyone there? Are you paying attention? Do you see me? Is it possible I still carry the look of a 1-year-old standing in her crib, reaching and searching for connection? Anyone there?

With a deep breath, I read and they were hooked. I was fully present as I slowed myself to the pace of thoughtful words. My pulse began to steady as my heart connected to my soul... and theirs. Courageously I sat all sassy in my red crocheted dress and cowboy boots surrounded by friends, family, and strangers listening to my story, and as the evening magically flowed on, “my” story became “our” story. It was an iconic event.

Who could have known I was destined to perch on a coffee house stool in Tulsa Oklahoma and launch a book that touched the heart of everyone in that room... especially my lovely sisters-in-law who became so mesmerized in the moment that they forgot their assigned tasks of photography and time-keeping, as well as my young nephews who sat tucked behind electronics? The friend I had known for over 50 years was to my right and various acquaintances and newfound soul mates filled out the audience. Even the barista offered his accolades when I finished.

It was a LEAP comprised of steps bigger than anything I could have imagined earlier in my life. One – that I would (or could) write a book; Two – that I would develop the nerve to speak in front of a crowd and become thoroughly entranced by the magic of it; and Three – I would return to the Oklahoma roots I left nearly a quarter-century ago to begin this new phase of my journey! Poet David Whyte writes, “What you can plan is too small for you to live.” How right he is!

In this special year of the Leap, what do you plan for yourself? What would you do if you had the courage to be who you really are? What does bravery look like in your life? My personal plan is to strap my parachute on tightly, ‘cuz it feels like this leap is a giant one... and I don’t want to miss a moment of it fearfully flailing away!!!

MY NEW BOOK: As I Lay Pondering: daily invitations to live a transformed life by Kayce S. Hughlett Available here and at Amazon.com. Get your copy today!!

Caught in the Headlights

I wrote a book. Those words are enough to make me pause like a deer trapped in the headlights. My pulse starts to accelerate and I wonder if I should flee or allow myself to dance in the high beam... or maybe it's "on" the high beam, because it definitely feels precarious where I reside these days. I wrote a book... actually, I carved open a 500-page space in the center of my chest and invited the world to peek in. Here's my heart, everyone. Please be kind.

I've recently joked that I need to add Dramamine to my daily regimen, as the highs and lows attempt to swing me through my days... and then I pause and read a line or two of my own words—Let go and release... There are no ordinary moments... Recall what we already know within—and I feel myself returning to the center of my truth.

I've spent the last 3 days packing, blessing, and shipping packages of signed books to over a dozen states within the U.S. and several countries around the world. Early readers have begun sharing their moments of connection and serendipity with me. This morning a friend elaborated on how her young daughter has been using my poem, Aslan's Gift, to help her release anxiety before she falls asleep each evening. My friend had tears in her eyes as she thanked me for pushing through to publish the book, so her daughter could find this comfort. Others have written how they love "having coffee" with me in the morning (even though we're miles apart). My heart sings as I hear these stories. It makes it worth opening up the tender place in the center of my chest.

As I Lay Pondering started writing itself before I knew what form it would take. My hunch is it will continue to take on its own life as it wings its way around the world. The big question I hear most often is What now? Who knows? All I can say for sure in this moment is I wrote a book. It's up to the Universe—God, Spirit, the Unknown—to say what's next!

My hope is that everyone who will benefit or be touched by my prose will have an opportunity to do so. Perhaps it will only be my coffee buddies, Aslan's snuggle bunny, and me... perhaps you or someone you love. Who knows?

What is the act that makes you pause in the headlights while simultaneously causing your heart to sing? Find it. Do it. The Universe will applaud. I promise.

As I Lay Pondering: daily invitations to live a transformed life by Kayce S. Hughlett. Available here and at Amazon.com.

Aslan © KSH

Pondering... 30 in 30 - Day 10

What lies below us? And what is above? - Christa G.

When I was a little girl, I envisioned splendid images of God and his kingdom in the sky. I believed that if I squinted through my eyelashes and pretended I wasn’t looking that I could catch a glimpse of him floating by on a cloud, surrounded by white-winged angels. I would lie for hours in the fresh summer grass, staring up into the sky until I could feel the slow turning of the earth beneath me. In my child’s mind, I never quite caught that vivid peek of God, but as an adult I realize those were the moments a Higher Power was most fully present to me. In that dreamlike state where waking and sleep merge, when vision blurs and yet becomes crystal clear. The place of being held by the earth, gazing longingly into the sky and being completely content for timeless hours.

Without nearly as much conviction as believing I could catch God through the window of my eyelashes was the notion that somewhere beneath my feet lay a fiery pit tended by a man with red horns, pitched fork and tail. I also imagined that if I dug a hole through the center of the earth, I would end up in China. Much more time was spent fantasizing about the delight and joy of ending up in a faraway little girl’s backyard than worrying about falling into a fiery pit. How could the same earth, soil and grass that cradled my cloud-watching self, also cover such a nasty place in the midst of the earth? I preferred to think of the magical tunnel that connected me to my foreign soul mate.

As an adult, my heart returns to cloud watching and earth pondering. What does lie below? My heart believes it offers a place to be grounded and held. We can be cradled and nurtured in love or we can be captive to fear with worries about what waits to pull us down. And above? Both adult and child know that is the space filled with infinite possibility. The dreamlike state where waking and sleep merge, when vision blurs and yet becomes crystal clear. The place where the most lovely of all things are made manifest.

photo © h3images

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Pondering... 30 in 30 - Day 9

Old Brain

There is a voice inside our heads that, believe it or not, usually wants to help. It comes from the places of old and is reptilian in nature. Karen Armstrong simply calls it “old brain.” Martha Beck names it our “lizard.” It also goes by such pseudonyms as the inner critic, devil on your shoulder, or possibly your mother. It is the voice that keeps us in check and goes back to primordial times when all we needed was to be safe, fed and procreate. Since there are no saber-toothed tigers stalking us today, our brain has a tendency to make stuff up that emulates danger.

Since it is an old brain, it is both sophisticated and naive in a very primitive way. My inner critic says things like Who do you think you are? No one will read this drivel! Stop while you’re ahead, fool. It doesn’t sound very helpful, does it? I want to shout back and name call, too, in a display of my own unevolved self. Experience, however, demonstrates that what we resist persists. Fighting, pushing, ignoring and shouting back – all feel like resistance to me. Perhaps a new tactic is in order. Pause. Breathe. Listen a little more closely.

Hey, Lizard, what do you really want? Like a sultry teenager or a petulant child, she pouts and whines and calls me more names. By engaging in the name-calling, the drama escalates and no one wins, so I choose to listen a little more deeply. What she really wants is to simply keep me safe. By convincing me to back off from my goals which entail taking risk, she thinks she’s performing her job successfully. Counterintuitive to my basic instincts to battle her, I’ve noticed responding with laughter, kindness, humility and confidence is much more effective in quieting down this petulant child.

What do you really want? Could there be something helpful beneath all that brain noise? Probing a little deeper, I understand my lizard also wants to be heard – just like me. Hmmm. Perhaps a compassionate bent is the best choice, even though placing my fingers in my ears and screaming, “I can’t hear you” can be quite appealing. Petulance or compassion – which will I choose today?

Today's ponder is inspired by Laura S. Her prompt: How does our inner critic serve us, and how do we best relieve her of her duties?

photo © h3images

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Pondering... 30 in 30 - Day 5

Youth's Challenge

Over coffee with my friend of 20 years, we mused about where we have been and how we live now. Wisdom, foolishness, joy and sorrow have carved prophetic lines in our once smooth faces. Still, we shine with beauty and grace. We cry with sorrow as agony forms the deep places of our souls. We have chosen to live and were we to die today, it would be without regret. There are things we cannot change and things we've yet to do. We still ask questions of ourselves and know that no one can answer our questions for us. We must do it on our own.

Earlier this same morning, a fellow ponderer asked me what I think the greatest challenge is that faces young adults today. My quick response? The fact that they are young. They have the world before them and have not yet gathered the experience of longevity. It is both gift and rival. I believe, the greatest challenge (and one not exclusive to youth) is to find authentic voice and pave paths of our own truth. To live unfettered lives that bring freedom versus imprisonment. To unselfishly and unabashedly stand for who we are. Life's challenge is to sort through the history the elders have bequeathed us - emotionally, spiritually, and economically. To find personal choice while sifting through peer pressure and the voice of the inner critic.

The greatest challenge for me comes from within, and I can't imagine it's so very different for others, be they young, old or in-between. The beauty is that this very same challenge is also our greatest gift. For if it comes from within, then we are free to change through choice. What will I choose for me? What will I offer to others? Life. I choose life over mere existence. Perhaps this is the challenge? This intentional pathway doesn't always taste of sweet honey and love songs. Terror and exhilaration swirl in a strange mixture toward conquering fear. Stepping into light means moving through darkness and befriending fear. It means letting go of what does not work and clinging tightly to what does. Choosing life is taking the risk to be immersed in the fragrance - aromatic & otherwise - of authentic being.

Inspired by Laura S's prompt: What is the biggest challenge facing today's young adults?

Prizes for you... Inspiration for me... Check it out!!!

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A Simple Sunday Post

Freedom, pleasure and ritual. What are mine? Stretching before I arise. Steaming hot coffee, fresh in the moment. A burning candle to awaken my senses. Music for ears and soul. Gentle pleasures. A desire to live in France or at least embrace the joie de vivre. To not fear dying. To not fear living. Awakening to everything. Pleasure. Desire. Wellness. Fear.

Freedom to speak my mind and share my magic. To spread my arms and soar like an eagle or the graceful pelican along the Sonoran sea. Pleasure to walk on the beach and feel the sand between my toes. To climb a rock wall and feel the strength of my body. To witness the lean and toned muscles in my arms that share the same body with crepe paper thighs. To knowingly love the signs and tokens of where I’ve been and who I am.

What brings you freedom and pleasure? What is the ritual that awakens your senses?

lucy's climb © 6.2011

Robin's Song

I awoke feeling a little restless today. Kind of excited and a bit overwhelmed. That’s what sometimes happens when life presents so many full possibilities – ranging from new creative adventures to curling up with my Lenten readings.

While sitting at my desk just now, I caught sight of a glorious robin sitting at the tip top of a barren tree. She takes my breath away as I hear her song across the rumble of a school bus and the music playing gently in the background of my room. Her wings flap and I see the brilliant orange of her chest. Ahhh. Breathe. One. Two. Three. Four. I am here now.

A friend wrote me last week about a robin that’s been banging on her window whenever she tries to sleep or read in her room. My friend was not quite as enamored with her robin and was considering homicide (due to sleep deprivation). I encouraged her to not shoot the bird as it might be a sign of new growth in her life.

When I revisited Animal Speak this morning these words for robin showed up:

“The song of the robin is a cheery, rolling trill. Part of its purpose is to help the robin establish territory… This is very significant when robin shows up in your life… it reflects a need to sing your own song forth if you wish for new growth. Any confrontations or hindrances are more show than actual threats, so go forward.”

Oh my, there’s the call of the fierce warrior yet again. Breathe. One. Two. Three. Four. I am here now.

Where are you being called to sing your own song? Can you offer it with a cheery rolling, trill like the robin?

© robin's song 3.29.11

Fierce Warrior

“How are you called to be fierce in your commitment to…?” (This question posed by Abbey of the Arts Lenten Retreat)

I am a fierce warrior. This I know to be true. Nonetheless, I have a hard time understanding how other people see me because of conflicting messages. Shy – the label of my childhood. Bitch – the critical murmurs that followed me as I learned to stand up for myself and set appropriate boundaries. Peaceful. Contemplative. Mean. Brilliant. Crazy.

There have been times in life when making a controversial decision has taken all the strength and courage I could muster. It was terrifying and it was absolutely the right thing to do. To walk away from someone or something you love is the hardest thing in the world. Agonizing. Painful. True. Even harder is to step back in when your heart’s been broken. Rewards beyond our wildest imagination beckon us forward. Risk of rejection looms with infinite magnitude.

We reject ourselves all the time out of fear. I can’t do that… I could never… When we hear those words coming out of our mouths – beware! Especially when they sound like: My child would never.. I’ll never allow… This is just the way life is… Absolutes get us into trouble most of the time. Words like: I can’t or I won’t are rigid and stifle our growth and creative movement. They also push us away from what we are authentically called to do and be. They leave us passive and without choice or responsibility.

I daily choose to step into the places that scare me. I’m not frozen with fear to do the hard or unpopular things especially if it will benefit another’s growth (or my own). There is a Hindu mudra called Abhaya. It is a gesture asserting power and giving peace at the same time. The Buddah is said to have quelled a rampaging elephant with this simple gesture. In it I see both compassion and fight. So, as I fill-in-the-blank to the above question, my answer becomes Compassion. I am called to be fierce in my commitment to compassion for myself and the world. Finding compassion in the fight, and fight in the compassion. Yes, I am a fierce warrior.

And you? Where are you called to be fierce in your commitment?

(btw-this post is my scary thing today...)

Meeting Anne Lamott - or Do you Believe in Magic Pt. 2

"It's not convenient to be a seeker. You may look a little nutty." -- Anne Lamott

I believe. I believe in God, magic, and a universe that comes together in indescribable ways. I believe in my power to make things happen and I understand I have control over nothing - absolutely nothing. I believe each and every moment in time has the opportunity to be life-changing. They are all worthy of being placed in the mosaic of our life. Some pieces just shine a little brighter, but even within those chards are miniscule elements forming to create the whole.

Saturday was one of those shining moments for me. When did the elements begin to form? As my wise son offered, "Mom, who knows how or why things aligned like they did, but they did." Yep, they sure did. Magic happened. God showed up. The universe did its thing and I met one of the greatest writing inspirations in my life, Anne Lamott. Holy Cow! I seriously met her, as in was introduced, sat down, held hands and prayed together MET! Over 1,000 people in attendance at Seattle University's "Search for Meaning" event and I (only I) had a private conference with her. How the heck did that happen?!?!?

The series of seemingly uneventful happenings could fill pages. In a nutshell, it went something like this: somewhere between my envisioning, I invited a friend to go with me, we ran into her friend who happened to be getting coffee for Anne, when I offhandedly mentioned my article, and the next thing I knew, the keynote speech was ending and my friend and I were being ushered backstage like rock star groupies. "You'll have just a few moments with her, because she's really not seeing any press today." "I'm not press," my panicked self sputtered. OMG, my inner critic started yammering "Fraud! Fraud! You're a Fraud!" My essential self got me into this mess by following my heart and then my social self took over. Be perfect. Intelligent. You have to make the most of this time. She's more important than you. They're going to know you're a fraud. And with all of those words, my brilliant and calm self vanished into thin air until I sat there sputtering like a bumbling fool. Finally I said, "I think I just need to breathe." In that moment, I remembered why I admire Anne Lamott as she offered me grace by taking my shaking hands and said, "Let's pray. Would that be ok?"

Yes, I believe in God, magic, and moments when I know there is a power greater than I. Period.

Stay tuned for more wisdom from this day and my article for Spiritual Directors International coming soon.

Do you believe in magic?

"Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people. It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life, and it is the main obstacle between you and a sh*tty first draft." -- Anne Lamott

I’ve carried around a picture of author Anne Lamott for nearly two years. It's been tucked in my image folder - waiting. I’ve also been in love with Lamott's style ever since I heard the concept of writing the “sh*tty first draft.” Her words have motivated me out of many a creative slump and encouraged me to check my perfection at the door and thus put things out into the universe I never would have dreamed possible.

But, what does this have to do with magic? Well… I’m currently enrolled in an enrichment course and in the class we’re visioning what our ideal future looks like. For me, it’s all about feeling versus fact. Things like freedom, creativity, joy, play, spirituality, connection, curiosity & spontaneity – my absolute favorite things! In creating a vision board, I intuitively gathered images to capture my feelings and placed them on the mandala. Lamott’s picture is the perfect reminder for me to Keep Writing! So, on she went. (Check out 3:00-ish on the board).

What's so magic about that you may ask? Well... less than 48 hours after completing the board, I got a phone call from Liz Ellman, the director of Spiritual Directors International, inviting me to attend Seattle U's “Search for Meaning” and subsequently author a piece covering the keynote speakers… Drum roll, please. Anne Lamott and Tarik Ramadan. I nearly fell out of my chair!!!

Of course I’m going and the visioning continues in my mind. I now see myself at the event chatting it up with Ms. Lamott (actually, she’s invited me to call her Anne.) When I introduce myself she intuitively knows I’m special and a part of her tribe. She hands me her card and says, “Call me anytime.” Or better yet, “I’m alone here in town. Could you grab a bite after this? I’d love to hear more about your work and your “Sam”. Oh yea, I’m cool, calm, collected and oh so very excited. She loves the idea of my new book, “Pondering with Presence” and hopes we’ll stay in contact. {pinch pinch}

The magic continued when yesterday on our class group call, the instructor randomly made a reference to none other than dear Ms. Lamott. We weren't even talking about writing! So, this post is my confessional and 2nd vision board. Methinks, I’ll go for broke and print it out. Perhaps when I hand her my copy of bird by bird for autograph, I’ll slip her the letter along with my business card. I mean what’s the worst that could happen? Arrest? Psychiatric commitment? She tosses it in the trash? Public humiliation? She’s not a nice person? (I think that would be the worst!) Perhaps she’ll at least admire my bravado and be just a little curious about whether or not we belong to the same tribe ☺. Do you think she believes in magic?

Ok… Time to wake up from dreamland and get on with the tasks of the day. Who knows what will happen next? I believe in magic. Do you?

A is of Annealing & Alchemy

This morning I discovered a new word, annealing. "Annealing" is a heat treatment wherein a material is altered, causing changes in its properties such as strength and hardness. It is a process that produces conditions by heating to above the recrystallization temperature and maintaining a suitable temperature and then cooling. Annealing is used to soften material, relieve internal stresses, refine the structure by making it homogeneous and improve cold working properties.

The description resonates so clearly with what has been seen as my "original medicine" - the ability to raise the heat level higher than normal temperatures, foster a shift in conditions and refine structure. My desire and ability to step into the hard places (Johnny Cash and Martha Beck call it "the ring of fire") while holding a space of compassion and kindness allow the dross to be burned away. Heating can feel dangerous and it's risky to step out of our comfort zone. I continue to learn from personal experience beginning with the time in my life when it became evident my children weren't willing or able to maintain malleable existences. It became imperative for someone (me) to shift out of a brittle existence and move into something more free flowing - otherwise the fracture could have become irreparable. So, I'm learning to "anneal".

Alchemy is a similar word I've been drawn to for awhile. It means the art of transmuting metals. I think of it in terms of seeking inner wisdom through a process of burning away the unnecessary shell to get to the precious gold (or diamonds) that reside within each of us. My original medicine is to find the gold in everything - including and perhaps especially fear. It's a little scary to announce to the world my own original medicine, but being one who supports stepping into the fiery ring, I choose to live it in order to give it.

While this post feels a little rambling, it's important for me to get some of these thoughts out there. I wish this blog offered polished thoughts, but alas, this is where my training wheels play. Or in the words of the wise Anne Lamott - this is where (reader beware) my sh*tty first draft often lands.

Annealing & alchemy. I invite you to consider where the process of softening and reshaping may be welcomed by stepping into your own ring of fire.

Inside Out

“For no matter how badly we want to love or be loved, we cannot alter our basic nature and survive inside, where it counts.” Mark Nepo

I have a friend who is absolutely the most gorgeous woman I have ever known. She has the face and body that many would consider “perfect.” As one friend described, “She’s better than anything that’s stepped out of Hollywood.” For all outward appearances she lives a charmed life – handsome husband, beautiful house, successful child… the list goes on. AND, she is miserable, lost and floundering in her life.

As we caught up about old times and what’s been happening in our lives in the last 15 years, she listened compassionately to the story of my journey and looked at me with her doe-like eyes to offer, “Your life hasn’t been easy.” True. It hasn’t. AND I wouldn’t trade the hard times (nor would I ask for them) if they would bring me to this place in my life today. Her 'hard times' are very different from mine, but in many ways they seem even harder - they are subtle and keep her trapped in a place of confusion, because she "shouldn't be complaining." Oh, my heart breaks for her.

Somehow my journey has brought me to a place where I am able to wake up each morning grateful. Sometimes I’m a little groggy or a little slower to realize I have found my voice – “my basic nature” as Nepo describes – and I am learning to live out of that place. My insides are awakening even as my outside gathers wrinkles and gray hairs. Learning to love myself from the inside out brings more life than any outside appearance can ever offer. My hope is that I will continue to remember this. My sincerest prayer is that others will know this too.

I’ve been away and miss my friends here. I hope you’ll stop and say hello. I look forward to reconnecting!!!

Do you need an earthquake?

Before you read today's post - and I hope you'll read it all & comment - take a look at the accompanying image. It's a card created between yesterday's post of desert blooms and today's words that flowed from my heart. I haven't spent a lot of time with this card, but a couple of observations: it's big and bold - there's a shadow side in there somewhere - I feel empowered and terrified when I consider it - she gives me the courage to step out and post the following reflections that poured into my journal this morning.

I didn't necessarily set out to write this for the public, and was going to heavily edit it if it turned into a post. I opted, however, to make minor revisions and go with the flow. The beginning quote is mine, made at Claire's post, Signs, where she speaks of the earthquake that sets Paul and Silas free from jail.

"yes, those earth shattering moments - many of them have melded together for me almost to the point where i see them everywhere i look - my heart has expanded and softened - fright seems to have been replaced with a love i thought i could never experience. it seems abstract and a bit cliche to put into words. simply put, yes, i've had those experiences and i remember, thank godde!"

the post describes the fear of the jailer when the earthquake shook and the prisoners were set free. the fear of the prisoners. it was elucidated in one of the comments on the blog "yikes, prisoner's escaping - time for fear." prisoners are scary, and i don't want to admit that to myself. prisoners are scary - really the unknown is scary. prisoners are just people like the rest of us and, yes, there is cause to be frightened of some of them, but not all of them. (oh, i hate them/they language.)

yesterday on a Facebook status, a well-meaning woman talked of wanting to provide spiritual direction to an "incarcerated" person and a "normal" person. my blood boiled. are you kidding me? you want to go and share God, but geez, can you hear what you're saying? i hear her saying "us and them". we're normal and they're not. an incarcerated person and a normal person. what bullshit is that? oh, i don't even want to rant about her. i need to listen to my own heart.

why does this grate on me so much? because i can see it in myself, huh? my fear. her fear. the jailer's fear - of the other. we fear 'the other', and as long as we fear the other - whether of another nationality, religion, social status - whatever - there will never be peace. fearing the other is the most dangerous thing we can do. yes, i know we have instincts to tell us when we're in danger, but what of the "instincts" we have been carefully taught? to hate people of color or those who weigh "too much" or fill in your own blank... we're taught to fear being old, too. how many of us fear the handicapped or the infirm? it's scary - really scary, 'cause it could be us!

when my mother was placed in a memory care facility (i.e. she had alzheimer's), my son at age 13 was the most compassionate person i've ever seen. he didn't fear the looping stories or the blank stares - he joined in with the residents and listened to their stories again and again. life has warped his views now with more prejudice, but then, he wasn't frightened - they were just people and he was a friend and champion for the under dog. now he is one. he's the guy behind the bars. he's the one we're supposed to be afraid of.

i sit in the visiting room at the prison and it looks like a class room. i haven't felt a moment of fear in that environment. maybe it's because the guards are standing around. maybe. but they're all people with stories. i feel more curious than anything and would love to sit down and talk with everyone (not allowed - btw). i don't see the men as "other" - other than making different choices than i've made, but i have no idea what life path lead them to those choices. fear - certainly. desperation - probably. self-contempt - absolutely.

and so we pour on the contempt by placing "them" in the other category. we're not scary and they are. we're normal and they're different. it's all fear. so what do we do? who are you afraid of? how does it cause you to be in the world or not be in the world? what's the difference between you and me and the guy in the orange jump suit? choices? luck? nature? God's plan? did God predestine them to be bad and us good? bullshit. yes, it comes down to choice. it comes down to love and fear. how can we be curious? i don't know what it means to be black or jewish or handicapped, but do you know what it's like to have a kid in jail and have the "good" Christian people afraid of him - categorizing him before they've even considered him as a person?

if you've ever read Martin Buber, you know about the i/thou relationship. when do we quit making people "it" and consider them as I/Thou. look into the eyes - yes, you may feel your blood chill - i've had that experience and i say "run". watch "dead man walking" and see sister prejean. yes, sean penn was scary in that movie - the character was terrifying and there was a spark of humanity. my son sits beside the most heinous offenders. does that make him scary? yes, i won't deny that i've dreamed of being terrified of him, and i will still give him a chance to be more than an it or they. i will not categorize blindly. at least i hope i won't.

i hope i will be like the jailer's in Claire's story and ask what i need to do to be saved - from myself. from my own pettiness and bitterness and fear. that's who and what i need to be saved from. "they" don't need to be saved, I do - especially if i hold malice and unjustified fear in my heart. - uneducated fear. ignorant fear. i say to me and you - to us: listen to yourself. have knowledge before you speak or at least acknowledge your ignorance. don't speak of love if you don't know what it's like to love unconditionally. i don't wish the challenges i've had on anyone AND i am grateful to have been challenged to know what it's like to love without condition. i'm not sure i would have done it on my own without an earthquake - would you?

Thanks for reading today. Wishing you peace and blessings.

Book Review: God is Not One

When TLC Book Tours contacted me about writing a review of Stephen Prothero's new book, God is Not One, I found myself connecting to the topic through my personal lens. Surrounded by fundamental Christianity throughout childhood and early adulthood, I was taught and believed, there was only One "True" God. It was easier to don the mantle of others rather than break out of the structured mold and delve into the stirring questions with my own curiosity.

It was not until my middle years that I began to question who God is to me. As I have explored outside the boundaries of Christianity and learned about other faiths, I have found a broader and more encompassing God than the one of my upbringing. There has been ensuing peace and a sense of personal freedom as I have made connection with those I previously considered "different" (religious or otherwise). So, when asked to read and offer a review of God is Not One, I found myself grating at the division which I thought the book implied. I was not prepared for the delightful surprise that followed.

The book's subtitle - "the eight rival religions that run the world -- and why their differences matter" - found me focusing on the "rival" and "difference" aspect as I braced myself for another dialogue stirring the world toward division instead of unity. While most books on religion or "anti-religion" (think Christopher Hitchens, Sam Harris, Richard Dawkins) push an agenda of their belief, Prothero is a breath of fresh air who leaves lots of space to welcome your own conclusion.

Divided into nine succinct chapters, Prothero leads the reader through a journey of knowledge and enlightenment about eight significant religions and "a brief coda on atheism." Throughout the pages, he lets us wrestle with the question of how we even define religion (e.g. "Like Buddhism, Confucianism can't seem to make up its mind about the religion thing. So it calls into question what we mean by religion and in the process helps us to see it in a new light.") He also isn't afraid to pepper a few of his own thoughts and beliefs throughout the pages in a nonjudgmental way. (e.g. "Although I do not believe that this life is a mere dress rehearsal for the next..., I (Prothero) was moved by passages about the "homecoming" Muslims believe they have waiting in God.")

The author's voice includes both wisdom and humor, and I found myself savoring each chapter as a beautiful course leading toward a full meal. Granted, there were times I got bogged down, particularly when trying to decipher religions that are confusing even to their followers (think... multiple Hindu gods and layers of philosophy). Nevertheless, this tasty treat kept me turning the pages and finding myself moving toward a fuller understanding of the world we inhabit.

Rather than finding discord, I continued to discover tidbits that resonate with my own faith and wishing I could do as Prothero asks of one of his Boston University classes and create my own religion. By leaning into the similarities, rather than pushing away from the differences, my world broadened as I opened the door to greater understanding of significant cultures around the world. (For example, I had never heard of Yoruba which may account for as many as 100 million people. Nor had I ever considered the rich tradition of Confucianism as anything other than the source of 'Confucius says' humor).

God is Not One is by no means an exhaustive volume on these religions, however, it is a well-thought out and documented resource which I will return to again and again. For anyone wanting to broaden their understanding of world religions without spending years doing research, this book is a rare find. It balances nicely between factual information and easy-to-read status. Personally, I found it fascinating and will highly recommend it to anyone who is interested in issues of personal faith, world alliance or inter-faith dialogue.

While I recognize the importance of understanding differences, one mantra kept running through my head as I read each chapter - We are all searching for one thing, and that one thing is encapsulated in the word Freedom.

Much of my personal doctrine comes from the belief that we either operate out of our capacity to love or to fear. By refusing to engage with what we fear, (in this case, other religions) our capacity for relationship is hindered at best, and most likely becomes destructive (as witnessed daily in the world). Human beings can remain in personal or global bondage by refusing to step outside boundaries of knowledge, or we can choose to seek freedom by understanding ourselves and our world more wholly. Whether you are a seeker looking for contextual understanding of your own personal faith, or longing for peace in the larger world, God is Not One is a must-read.

In conclusion, Prothero offers, "Whether religion divides or unites depends on whether we can learn to talk about it with some measure of empathetic understanding." God is Not One is an excellent conversation starter. I invite you to join in the dialogue today!

Stephen Prothero is the New York Times bestselling author of Religious Literacy and a professor of religion at Boston University. Visit him online at www.stephenprothero.com.

dark

Throughout this Lenten week of praying with the hours and focusing on the four cycles of breath, I have discovered my own ambivalence with the time of dark (emptiness) that follows the exhale. This pondering continues to permeate my days and many words and metaphors have popped into my mind. For today, however, I share with you the initial thoughts in the breath cycle following dawn, day and dusk.

Darkness. Empty. Despair. I am frightened here.

The stillness in the depth of the ocean, waiting to be stirred. Waiting and knowing the hand of God will reach down deeply and meet me in this darkness.

The dark in the night of my five year old self, afraid to look under the bed.

Oh, the dark of night when stars shine and the Big Dipper speaks to me of fullness and joy. To be emptied out in order to be filled again.

God meets me in the dark.

Clean Heart

Have mercy on me, God, in your goodness; in your abundant compassion blot out my offense.
Wash away all my guilt; from my sin cleanse me.
For I know my offense; my sin is always before me.
Against you alone have I sinned;
I have done such evil in your sight
That you are just in your sentence,
blameless when you condemn.
True, I was born guilty, a sinner,
even as my mother conceived me.
Still, you insist on sincerity of heart;
in my inmost being teach me wisdom.
Cleanse me with hyssop, that I may be pure;
wash me, make me whiter than snow.
Let me hear sounds of joy and gladness;
let the bones you have crushed rejoice.
Turn away your face from my sins;
blot out all my guilt.
A clean heart create for me, God;
renew in me a steadfast spirit.
Do not drive me from your presence,
nor take from me your holy spirit.
Restore my joy in your salvation;
sustain in me a willing spirit.

-Psalm 51: 3-14

Well, I have to say this week’s Lent readings from Abbey of the Arts are tapping into my fury at a God of judgment and condemnation. My early personal story contains a history of God principally being defined by fear and rarely offering unconditional love. I also struggle with the notion of being “sinner(s) even as (our) mother(s) conceived (us).”

Today I wonder about the Psalmist and consider perhaps he wrote from his own inner voice of condemnation – passing the buck to God as the One who blames us for sin. For most human beings, it’s much easier to blame outside circumstances or other people rather than look inside and hold our own responsibility. Personally, I would prefer to “blame” myself rather than worship a vengeful God who creates sinners by design.

I’m much more inclined to start with Genesis 1:31 and hear the resounding, “it was very good” than “...born guilty, a sinner, even as my mother conceived me.” Where does the latter fit with “it was very good”?

Lest you think I believe everything is sweet hearts and rosy flowers, I know it is true that we “sin.” We turn away from God. We turn away from ourselves. We turn away from others. The cloak of darkness shrouds us tighter and tighter, especially when we listen to those voices of condemnation and evil. We move toward hate – hating ourselves and thus hating others. I cannot reconcile the discrepancy (and ensuing theological debate) between Genesis and this Psalm other than to consider it as man’s influence in the writing. Perchance he writes from a mind riddled with guilt, thus momentarily forgetting the goodness and light I believe resides in each of us.

This Lenten season, my turning is toward God – toward my inner most self – the one who shows mercy and compassion. If I truly forgive myself knowing all that I have done wrong and felt and been, how can I not forgive others? How can I not find rest and have my joy restored?

By being more compassionate toward myself and thus others, I move toward God. We are all created with a Divine spark – perhaps it is hidden in the clean heart this Psalmist begs for.

I'ao Valley River © lucy
Maui graffiti © lucy

Love. Fear. Sorrow. Transformation. Coincidence?

Synchronicity? God? Once again I am awed by the great presence that surrounds us. Shortly after writing this post, I opened up my e-mail to read the following. Coincidence?

When have love or suffering transformed me?

"Two universal and prime paths of transformation have always been available to every human being God has created: great love and great suffering. Only love and suffering are strong enough to break down our usual ego defenses, crush our dualistic thinking, and open us up to Mystery. They, like nothing else, exude the mysterious chemistry that can transmute us from a fear-based life to a love-based life. No surprise that the Christian icon of redemption is a man offering love from a crucified position…. Love and suffering are the main portals that open up the mind space and the heart space, breaking us into breadth and depth and communion." --Richard Rohr

#2 - from Inspired

“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”

~Jalal ad-Din Rumi

#3 - from Writing without Paper

"Here's the thing, say Shug. The thing I believe. God is inside you and inside everybody else. You come into the world with God. But only them that search for it inside find it. And sometimes it just manifest itself even if you are not looking, or don't know what you're looking for. Trouble do it for most folks, I think. Sorrow, lord."

~ Alice Walker

Ponder this with me... love. fear. suffering. transformation. synchronicity. coincidence.

Off the path or On?

“…it is the path off the path that brings us to God.” -- Mark Nepo

I could hear the fear in her voice – tangible, palpable, present. She was grasping for someone –in this case, a Christian counselor – who could bring her fractured family back together. Our conversation was brief since the role of mediator had already been filled. Still, her terror has stayed with me. I wholly connect with the panic for her family, but it is not this fear I ponder today.

To be clear, let me say this is someone I know and for who I have great respect. In this context, she’d visited my website and noticed the impact of Julia Cameron’s Artist’s Way on my life. Unlike others who have watched my personal transformation over the last several years, she feared for my salvation. I had “opened myself up” to broader horizons and in her God-fearing mind that isn’t a good thing. Again, her fear was palpable and it is that I ponder. What follows are my morning pages (thanks, Julia):

Fear is a powerful weapon. Fear is evil. It may even be what the Bible speaks of. If God is love, it would make sense that fear is evil or Satan or the serpent or whatever you want to call it. Fear is the seducer. The one that keeps us from God. From love. Fear is power…Fear moves me away from God. Fear moves me away from love.

And as I wrote those words, I realize fear is also what ultimately moved me toward God. Broken, desperate, panicked – my family reached for something that could bring our fractured family back together. In our case, we ended up in a fishing village in Mexico – a boarding school as our hope. I sat alone by a pool, focusing on an assignment to meditate on the 11th step of AA. I "opened myself," and in “unorthodox” prayer, God met me on the page. I wrote like a fiend and a near-stranger heard my words and introduced me to the Artist’s Way. The rest they say is history. My world as I knew it was broken wide open and stepping through my fear I began to receive the world in new ways. I began to look fully into the face of both love and fear.

Big topics here, I know. I wonder where or if these words resonate for you. Is God love? And what of fear? Today, on this sacred Sunday, I offer gratitude for my God who is big enough to journey with me off the path and I humbly offer the following prayer:

Let me live in my house by the side of the road,
where all manner of folk go by.
They are good, they are bad, they are weak, they are strong,
wise, foolish – so am I.
Then why should I sit in the scorner’s seat
or hurl the cynic’s ban?
Let me live in my house by the side of the road
and be the friend I can. – Sam Walter Foss from Celtic Daily Prayer

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