Returning Home

We have the ability to lose ourselves so easily with a thought, a word, a deed, an action. But in the losing, we leave space to be found - to find - to return.

Home. What a beautiful word filled with resonance and rich meaning. To me "home" represents the deep internal space where I am fully known. It resides in the center of fullness that is so simple and complex, it becomes wordless. Home provides shelter, warmth and comfort. It contains all of our fears, doubts and greatest joys. It is the place where we operate on all cylinders - not shutting down any area of shadow or light.

This past week I was part of an experience called "Returning Home." My role was as facilitator, but my open heart could not help but receive as participant. I returned home to Soltura (the foundation for healing and personal growth) after a break of nearly two years. The experience was reminiscent of (& profoundly in sync with) the desert time I have been following during my Lenten practice. Like the desert fathers and mothers, we committed to remove ourselves from normal lives, set aside distractions and within carefully designed boundaries find our own unique rhythm(s). In this way, we returned home.

Through experience, I discovered a fresh way to the rhythm of healing - for myself, relationships and others. Through honor and delight, the spiraling movements from deep within spread their wings into the world.

How will you commit to return home today? For yourself and thus for the world...

"port orchard heron" © ksh 3/2011

Blissed to be a Witness

I am blissed to be a witness. You read it correctly – no typo. I am BLISSED to be a witness. Last week I traveled home to the Key Peninsula, the site of Soltura workshops. No, I don’t live there physically. Seattle is still my place of residence. But, my soul returned to its bliss-filled home where joy, light, love, laughter, fear, darkness, peace, conflict, death and life can all be safely experienced…and witnessed.

As I have journeyed on my path toward authentic life, I have come to know myself and the places where I feel most alive and connected. Many of those places have been witnessed by those who read here. I find joy in the simplest of things. A jellyfish. My garden. Friends. Nature. Reading. Writing.

Yesterday while driving across Lake Washington with my i-pod shuffling around, Ben Harper’s song, Blessed to be a Witness, came on and I experienced one of those bliss-filled moments. It dawned on me that the sense of contentment that has flowed through my veins for the last week was connected to my experience of being a witness to other’s journey toward authentic living.

Witnessing life is an honor and an amazing privilege. It takes me out of a me-me-me state of mind, and in the process brings me back to my truer self. I am indeed blessed and blissed to be a witness.

This is not a totally new concept to me, but it is one of those special realization moments that I desire to share – lest I forget. So, consider yourself a witness today. ☺

What are the moments you have experienced the power of being a witness? Do share!

Peace and bliss-filled blessings to you!

"heart in the sky" 6.09 - lakebay, wa

perfect stillness

How do you capture the stillness that is God? One step onto the gravel path reverberates like the clashing of cymbals. It is a cacophony of sound against the deep, dark nothingness that surrounds me. It is nothing and it is everything. I can feel God in the air that is neither wet nor humid nor dry. It does not feel heavy and yet I am immensely aware of the air. Not a breath of wind moves through it. Perfect absolute stillness. It is God.

I tiptoe through the wet grass not wanting to break this mood. It is reverent. Holy. The pool of light from my lamp leads the way. It is absorbed into the night leaving me inside a bubble of gentle illumination. It is perfect soft light. It is holy and for a moment so am I. But I am not alone. My light has disturbed a resting goose who startles and makes it known that he is not pleased by my presence. His honks and wings in flight carry through the stillness and across the water that continues to sleep. My heart races for a moment. The goose’s call quieting long before the thump thump thump of my pounding heart.

And then it returns. The stillness. The calm. God. I tiptoe across the wet grass. My own presence disturbing me. How odd it is. I want to be absorbed into the air; the moisture; the dewy grass. I am one with the night. It is a gift. It is perfect. It is God.

my village

Home again. It has been a nice relaxing day of resting, nesting, catching up on e-mail and home stuff. The wind has been blowing like crazy and the rains have been consistent throughout the day. Right now the sun has decided to pop out and give us a little blue sky for the evening.

My life has entered an odd pattern these days. I feel kind of like a firefighter who goes to live at the station for a week and then returns home. When I am facilitating for Soltura, I know where I am supposed to be and my focus is centered on helping the participants throughout their workshop. It is intense, exhilarating and exhausting. So the challenge when I return to my home is to find the balance of what needs to be done and to what I choose to be present.

When I am facilitating, I am totally present to the participants. It is a very cool experience, because they each come looking for some kind of change in their life. I find that my gifts shine in this environment. Last week was very cool because there were four young ladies who are close in age to my son. So in many ways they were an interesting combination of my son and daughter. One of them shared her philosophy of “being raised by a village” and thanked each of us for being part of her village.

It was so wonderful to see how these women also helped “raise me” with their courage, insight, tenacity and love. It never ceases to amaze me how similar human beings are and yet how very different. The great thing is allowing ourselves to be open and see what we can learn from each other. (I think it’s great to consider relationships with an open door policy ☺.)

This evening I am tired, but content. My home is clean. My heart is in good spirits. My family is safe. And my “village” continues to expand. Blessings abound and I am eternally grateful for life as I know it.

wordless sounds and sighs

The theme of waiting continues to follow me throughout this often crazy busy life of mine. I am surrounded by stillness and beauty at all turns if I just allow myself to slow down and listen.

Even during the past week when my time away was sudden and unexpected, I was able to find peace and serenity. It was almost as if God was stalking me ☺. I am finding that when I wait without agenda, the Spirit speaks for me in ways I cannot fathom: The whisper of trees. The joy of art’s creation. Birds flying. Eagles soaring. A dog’s warm nuzzle.

I am delighted to be back home and to share a few words here. “Few words” continues to be the key for me. And part of “God’s stalking” was the following Bible verse that showed up not once or twice, but three times from three different sources last week. I think it says it all.

“The Spirit also helps us in our own weakness. For when we do not know what to say in prayer, the Spirit expresses what we mean in wordless sounds and sighs.” --Romans 8:26

I would love to know how these words speak to you. Or if you are wordless right now, a simple “hello” would be delightful ☺.

Peace, friends!

photo by lucy 5.24.08. see related post here.

God is Here

I walked into the deep dark night, the crescent moon lighting my way. Tilting my head back to fill my eyes with the night sky, the Big Dipper shone straight above me, full and clear. Laughter filled my soul. God is here.

In the morning light, I headed for the river rock trail and a still small voice said, ‘Turn.’ I turned away from the path, toward the sea, and there before me was a magnificent eagle soaring in the clear blue sky. God is here.

The persistent morning wind blew through the sunlit trees. Waving. Calling. Singing. I am here. Yahweh. Spirit. God.


She built an altar out of discarded metal—a ladder representing her fears. She built an altar to a God she said she did not know—a God whose name she could not speak. He wooed. He called. He said, “I am here.”

She waited. She listened. She struggled. She railed against the hope. She slept. Peace came and washed over her through a flood of tears. She wept. She knew. She spoke the name. “God is here!!”

where dreams & reality collide

“For it is in giving that we receive.” St. Francis of Assisi


wish lives. dream lives. what is next? what is past? there is so much to consider as I sit here this morning. last week my “wish” life collided with my real life and it took my breath away. in god's perfect way, it snuck up on me and I didn’t even realize what had happened until it was nearly over. how often is that the case in life?

last saturday night, I sat next to my dear husband in front of four couples who had just completed the first soltura couples’ workshop (that i had the privilege of co-writing and co-facilitating.) the couples snuggled. they glowed. they danced...hope filled their eyes. they had worked hard. they had discovered a “third way”. during the course of our four days together, they had indeed fled. they fought with each other, with themselves, with me. but in the end, they stayed. they were present. willing. open to possibility. it was miraculous to watch.

and what of my personal “collision” you might ask? as I addressed them for one official last time, tears filled my eyes and my heart welled with joy and gratitude. “thank you,” I said. “this is a dream come true for me.” even then I wondered from where did those words come? I sensed deeply that they were not just sentimental ramblings, but words that felt whole and true. it was not until the next morning as I was talking with another facilitator that I remembered the prophecy I received in the spring four years ago. in it were the words, “follow your dreams. find out what they are. do them with bill. save the families.” there was much more to that story, but even as I write this morning I realize that even now I am overcome by amazement at God’s grace and I feel the beauty and power of that collision of dream and reality.

I did not know I was on a path to dream fulfillment. I was just following my heart. the twists and turns were many. the road was long. the goal not even in sight. it snuck up on me and I didn’t even realize what had happened until it was nearly over. how often is that the case in life? ☺

what dreams are brewing for you today? will you be open, willing & present to see them? will you be open to the possibility of a new way?

may the god of grace be with you today. peace.

photo by h3images

Witness

Yesterday I saw God. I saw God in the face of a child. In the eyes of grown men. In the embrace of a friend. In the glow of my husband. All…Skipping. Running. Resting. Excited & joyful. Tender & strong. Men of all ages. Young. Old. In-between. All of them, little boys & men of strength. Unwavering. Speechless & shouting. Hoarse & ever so clear. On their knees & scaling the highest mountain. God was there. Brother and sister. Two souls connected as one. Mother and daughter. Heart sisters. All joined together. Magic. Holy. Eternal. The eyes of a child. Yesterday I saw God. Amen.

Sand dollars

Sand dollars. Whole. Broken. Covered with bugs and barnacles. Green hats of seaweed finery. Perfect on the outside. What is on the inside? Decorated. Plain. Upside down. Right side up. Holes all the way through. Broken in half. Waiting to be taken back to sea or taken home by a passerby.

Last week I walked the beach at Soltura for one last bit of leisurely solitude before the new workshop participants arrived. Little did I know that the words above (penned during those moments) would become the metaphor my mind returned to when asked to share my recent experience.

Words seem so inadequate & insufficient. Even powerful words like glorious, magical, terrifying, magnificent, pure & true. Learning. Growing. Changing. The Light. The words are everywhere if only we open our eyes to look and to see the miracles before us.

"Whole" with finery and beauty keeping others at bay. Broken wide open yet still hidden behind tears and confusion (bugs and barnacles). Boldness that says, ‘Get away!’ The caretaker, the mother, the protector—looking out for others while slowly letting their “control” cover them over like tiny bugs invading the shells. Holes in the middle. Others broken in two. Torn between two sides with a gaping space filled with nothing. The nearly invisible one—buried deep in the sand on the edge slightly away from the others. Will you notice that one?

We see each other in each other. Together we gently pick up the shells. They cannot return to their original form. They will never be the same and yet they will be whole. The beauty is that we get to re-define what wholeness looks like. Maybe it looks like glorious, magical, flawed & broken, pure & true sand dollars on the beach.

Sand dollars and people—are they really so different?

A Knight's Journey

"it takes courage to become who you truly are." e.e. cummings

Yesterday I had the privilege of joining in the celebration as seven amazing and brave men completed their first Soltura workshop, The Knight's Dilemma. I am forever blessed by this beautiful experience.

The energy in the room was palpable. Laughter. Tears. Words of power and clarity filled the air. Humility. Wonder. Delight. Grown men’s faces transformed into tender little boys. Gratitude reigned. Awe. Thankfulness. I am not sure I have ever felt so ultimately received by a group of “strangers”—strangers that I was uniquely and individually connected to through their extended friends and family.

My heart filled with joy and I found myself speechless for words that would not come. It was energy. Pure energy. I did not suffer from stage fright or self-consciousness. I felt fully me. Accepted. Welcomed in love and it occurred to me that this is the ultimate hope for the world. For as these men were able to wholly embrace themselves; they were able to more fully extend their love and graciousness toward others.

They fought long, hard and well. They surprised themselves and challenged the facilitators at every turn. They were gracious, frustrating, lovable, eclectic, and endearing. It was such an honor to step in and witness their transformation. Belly laughs bursting to life. Heads held higher and words spoken with more clarity. Humility and love shining from their faces. Beautiful, wonderful, unique men. All so different yet all the same. Seeking what they had forgotten & resolving or at least understanding a little better the battles inside that keep them from living freely.

Today is a new day and these seven Knights will march forward with their armor much shinier and less rusted than it was only a few days ago. I stand in awe of their bravery and courage to seek something better for themselves and consequently the world in which they live.

Bravo, Gentlemen! Well done!

(stock photo)

Joyful Work?

Recently as I read a friend’s words discussing the struggle of living a contem-
plative life versus one of more perceived compassion toward the world, I found myself getting anxious that I do not do enough to help the world, the poor, the marginalized. As I read on, tears came to my eyes when I sensed God speaking directly to me saying, "Don't you see how your gifts extend into the world, so that others may find their way?"

Words such as these can be hard for me to receive. While I have never understood much about asceticism per se, I have a sense (for myself) that if it feels too good (i.e. if I find joy in my work), then there must be something wrong. I see myself as not working hard enough or doing the "right" things. These are long-ingrained messages that I have only recently started to challenge.

I LOVE the "work" (and it is difficult to even use that word) I do with Soltura and at Mars Hill. My heart fills as I see men and women come to have more self-awareness, compassion for themselves and begin to understand what truly brings them alive in the world.

The psalmist said, "Harden not your hearts,” and it is when my heart is open that I see change happen in my world. Can I be satisfied with changing the world the way I am best equipped or must I be a woman doing big, radical, self-sacrificial things to be effective?

And so my challenge, and question perhaps, is can I allow myself to do the work that brings me joy without feeling that I must embody suffering along the way?

A wise man prompted me to remember one of my favorite quotes and suggested perhaps that is where I am already living. Hmm. Guess I'll keep pondering ☺.

“The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world's deep hunger meet." --Frederick Buechner on vocation

Where does your deep gladness meet the world’s deep hunger?

photos by lucy

What is Soltura?

Many of you who are regular readers may have noticed that about once a month, I disappear and go incommunicado for a few days. Where do I go, you might ask? Many would recognize that I have gone to Soltura, but not necessarily know what that means. So, today as I prepare to disappear again for a few days, I wanted to share my own little piece of “social action” where I see the world changing one person at a time. It is a challenge to describe, because I have never heard of or experienced anything so unique in my life. Soltura is the place I began to find healing for my soul and it is the place I go to be refreshed and restored as I pour my heart, time and energy into helping provide a space for others to either begin or continue their own personal journey.

So here’s a little bit of my personal history: While at therapeutic boarding school my then 14-year-old son went to his first workshop. My husband and I were subsequently invited to participate in our own workshop. Entering into the experience, I considered myself a pretty high-functioning individual who handled life’s ups and downs with reasonable “success”. I was very unaware, however, of how much I was just getting by and hiding behind defense mechanisms rather than fully participating in life.

Soltura gave me the space, the safety and the exercises to help me find my own best answers to the questions and roadblocks that stood in my way of truly knowing myself and therefore knowing the world around me. I came to know God in ways that I had never dreamed imaginable as I opened the door to new possibility. The tenet that I most admire and hope to live by is “Love God and love your neighbor as yourself.” What I have found is that if I do not know who I truly am I cannot love myself well and thus cannot love anyone else well; for I end up loving them exactly as I love myself which can be pretty crummy some of the time.

If you visit this website because you love Lucy and how she embraces life, you might be intrigued to know that I found Lucy (or she found me) through a Soltura workshop. I cannot imagine my life without her.

I have seen people from all walks of life experience Soltura…from Presidents of international companies to the abused mom who formerly slept in her car. Rich and poor. Ages 14 to 71. Addicts and teetotalers. Bold and timid. Christian and agnostic. Jews and followers of Zen. Businessmen and starving artists. Students and stay-at-home moms. People pushed by loved ones to get there and others seeking help on their own. I believe that Soltura is for everyone who desires to live life fully.

Soltura is where I go to work. It is where I go to play. It is where I go to be with God and be with friends and laugh and dance and be Lucy at her fullest. Soltura is a gift I am compelled to share with the world. I invite you to check out the Soltura website here. (The testimonies are really my favorite ☺.) Other posts are available here and here or check out the Soltura topics in my sidebar.

Anyway…that is where I will be from August 13-19. I’ll “see” you when I get back and pray you will come to find the Soltura of your life.

Adios!

Space for God

Sometimes I am overcome by the blessings that abound in my life. I am privileged to be part of a transformative process for others and in the process am continually renewed and transformed myself. Last week, I spent time in West Texas at a ranch some would call barren and desolate. I would call it anything but that.

I wish I were a poet so I could describe all the wonder around me; like the army of minuscule ants streaming up and down the porch pole; the small bird so confident, swaying and speaking from the top of a cottonwood tree; the soft brown bunnies frolicking in the grass; the paintbrush of color spread across the field—shades of red, maroon, violet that I cannot describe mixed with layers of yellow and golden wildflowers; the occasional fuchsia petals looking like purple round porcupines perched on top of gentle stems so inviting yet hiding the tiniest barbs to protect their lovely necks; the buzzing flies and biting mosquitoes, while not my favorite, also have their place.

The gentle breeze touches my skin—Yahweh speaks; clouds so light they look like feathers; a bobwhite calls in the distance. The earth sways with the voice of God, so soft and tender this morning in stark contrast to the majesty and power of the booming thunder and brilliant light show witnessed the night before. The pounding rain turning the red dirt into clay ready for the potter to mold.

My heart cries, “Mold me. Shape me. Wash over me. Cleanse me. Make me pure of heart and gentle like the breeze; strong as the storm yet pliable as the clay. Meet me here, oh God.”

The gentle wind responds, “I am here. Give me space, and time will cease to exist.”

The grass blows in the breeze like stalks of wheat ready for harvest. The grape vines are gone, left in their place a pathway of tiny white flowers. The earth continues. Nature finds its path, its rhythm. The breath of life. The voice of God.

What if with every breath we call God’s name? My heart is here giving God space. God--the ultimate poet. Romantic. The scribe of the world. Magnificent artist. Ultimate in glory. Amen.

My Lenten Prayer

“People who pray stand with their hands open to the world.” (Henri Nouwen.) Their arms wide open to the world. May my heart break wide open so that the world may fall in. Come all who are weary and burdened. Come. Let me be with you in this. Let me be there for you. (Words I penned yesterday morning as I continued to meditate on what my Lenten practice would be this year.)



I am continually amazed at my need to get out of my own way so I can hear God. While it is only recently that I have become more aware of the practice of Lent, I decided this year I would be prepared and consider well in advance what my Lenten practice would be. I read up on Lent a bit and even ordered a daily meditation book several days before the season was to begin. I considered giving up wine or sugar, exercising more…you get the picture. And then I ran out of time to think about it (hmm) and left for Brazos de Dios on Ash Wednesday.

No phone service. No internet. No i-pod or t.v. No interruptions from the outside world. Only ten people with the sole purpose of re-discovering the truth and beauty that lie deep inside each one of us.

That is my work, my joy, and (finally I realized) my Lenten prayer (my Life prayer)—to be fighting with and on behalf of truth and beauty for myself and others. Seeking the beauty and glory that we may not be able to see in ourselves. Digging through the armor of lies we believe—“I’m not good enough.” “My feelings aren’t important.” “I am nothing.” “I don’t matter” etc., etc. Fighting the battle alongside each other. While I know we must do it for ourselves, we do not have to do it alone. We can travel this path together—learning from one another.

My heart is filled with joy and my cup overflows. This Lenten season I choose to give away Me. Thankfully, gratefully, joyfully. My Lenten practice is not giving up drink or sugar or reading and exercising more, doing more, but rather I choose to be present to the world and to those around me. Living intentionally and bringing myself fully. Fighting side by side the battle that is ours together.

I invite you to join me for I cannot do this alone. Together let us seek the beauty in each other and break through the armor of lies that keep us in bondage. Together, let us move toward Resurrection this Lenten season (and always).

Boys and Bears

"We live our deepest soul's desires not by intending to change who we are but by intending to be who we are." -- from The Dance by Oriah

Angry, scared young men raging at the world.
Pain held deep inside.
Fists of steel swing toward connection.
Seeking emotion long ago hidden.
Rage wrapped tight in silence.

Confusion and fear plague the young faces.
Voices speak, “Get the F away!” and
“Please don’t leave.”
Slowly shifting, hands reach out and hugs hold tight.
Determination reigns.

Child and Man merge into one.
Hand in hand—reaching, fighting, touching, holding—
Fists that push and punch, open to embrace.
Their world softens, gentle as a teddy bear.
Little boy. Brilliant man. Mighty warrior. Heroes All.

Heroes Are Born

"It is not because things are difficult that we do not dare; it is because we do not dare that they are difficult."
-- Seneca


I am a blessed woman for I have spent the last five days witnessing miracles beyond imagination.

Miracles abound.
I watched the sun rise while the stars still played in the heavens.
I heard coyotes howl in the distance and laughed to see deer dancing across my path.
I saw frightened women lean into fear.
Beautiful songs emerged from dead hearts.
Velveteen rabbits became real.
Bent over women stood tall in their beauty.
New and golden stars shined with all their might.
A monster melted into a bundle of joy.
Heroes were born.
Golden women emerged from the womb.
Miracles abound.

I am blessed and thankful beyond comprehension. Thank you, God. Thank you, Friends. Thank you, Soltura.