My Friend, Acedia

Oh my, I’ve had quite a few days. After reading Christine’s reflection early in the week, I realized I’ve been caught up in a bout of acedia (i.e. lack of desire or initiative.) Rather than sinking into it or being curious, I grumbled and complained about not feeling good or getting anything done. This managed to only feed the overall sense of blah and keep me from (surprise surprise) feeling good or getting anything done.

This morning something began to shift as I decided to have a conversation with my companion. It went something like this:

Me: Hello, Acedia. What do you have to teach me?
Acedia: Patience, faith and the ability to sit in discomfort.
Me: Oh. But, I like things to happen quickly. I am a fearless warrior. I like to step in and heal things – quickly. (Oh geez, I sound arrogant. Somehow thinking I’m magical and believing I’m in control. My Ego is operating on high. )

Me: Hello, Acedia. What else have you got?
Acedia: I’m here to humble you. To let you taste that place of despair.
Me: Yuk, and?
Acedia: You haven’t been there in awhile, but you are not immune. All your tricks and magic won’t keep you from feeling pain and despair. It’s time to make peace with me and stop battling. Do you not see the risk? The more you battle, the stronger my hold becomes.
Me: Hmmm. Very interesting.

Then Acedia and I had a little conversation about the should’s. Beginning with the thought of “I should know better”. Having done tons of therapy, practicing as a therapist/life coach/spiritual director and overall being a pretty grounded and solid person, I have somehow convinced myself I shouldn't have bad days or make mistakes. (How realistic is that?!?!?). Thinking the thought of “I should know better”, I felt the weight of responsibility and the amount of EGO attached to it. It leaves me trying to do other people’s work for them AND messing around in God's business. It takes me totally away from the business of caring for myself. When I let go of the thought, "I should know better", I burst out laughing as I realized what a total mind-game that is... Geez Louise.

Using Byron Katie's technique of the Turnaround, my thought shifted something like this, and with it, the acedia lifted:

I shouldn't know better... Whew! I can only know what I know.

I do know better... I have everything I need and I can see it when I get out of my own way.

God knows best... I'm part of the Universe (God) and it takes all parts - the space - the light - the dark - the "mistakes" – the acedia – the fearlessness – the glory - ALL of it – to create a whole human being.

It appears I need to keep learning these lessons over and over again. Ain’t life grand?

Caught between Tangible & Intangible

Today’s Lenten questions:
“What are the things you feel pulled between in your own life?”
“How are you being called to a greater experience of wholeness and integration?”

Isn’t that our greatest movement – the steps that propel us toward wholeness and integration? Living a life of integrity and not lies. The pull of life on the grand scale between love and fear. How will I step into the places of love? Where will fear seek to overcome my integrity?

In my recent post, a commenter asked what areas of growth I thought the robin’s song was signaling – spiritual, professional or relational? My response was that it feels like they’re all nestled together. My spirituality encircles everything I do and my professional life is all about relationship. I feel pulled or torn between being a go-with-the-flow, follow-my-heart, don’t-worry-about-time–or-money kind of woman and the get-‘er-done, make-a-list, be-productive, earn-a-living while tangibly-using-my-gifts messages that run through my mind. I am caught between the tangible and intangible.

Tangible output receives praise, financial reward, acknowledgement and results in physical product. This approach glorifies product over process. Process (or the intangible) comes from the times I sit curled on my sofa with music playing and candle lit simply allowing myself to be. Ineffable moments not limited by time or space. It is 'output' that can’t be quantified (nor should it be). Yet even this sacred time can be subjected to productivity results if I judge the quality by how many pages I pen or the number of minutes my meditation lasts. The challenge for me is to simply BE(E).

While in Egypt last fall, I received the word Be(e) during a very special ritual. It is proving to be quite a powerful presence for me. Bees are longtime symbols for accomplishing the impossible. The bee is a perfect totem for this place of being caught between tangible and intangible, product over process, because in reality both are necessary to achieve the balance my heart desires.

Be. It all comes back to this for me. Greater wholeness and integration calls me to this place where tangible and intangible meet and dissolve into one. Where product and process find their perfect balance. Where prayer becomes a way of being and being becomes a way of prayer.

Will you ponder today’s questions alongside me?

Standing on Holy Ground

"...if the journey you have chosen is indeed a pilgrimage, a soulful journey, it will be rigorous. Ancient wisdom suggests if you aren't trembling as you approach the sacred, it isn't the real thing. The sacred, in its various guises as holy ground, art, or knowledge, evokes emotion and commotion." Phil Cousineau

For regular readers, you may have noticed a mention here and there of an upcoming trip to the Sinai desert. In sharp contrast to my Paris trip of three years ago, this one has been enveloped in silent revelation. My preparations are more internal and I find I have fewer words to say - except I know this is what I'm supposed to be doing. While Paris was a pilgrimage of its own kind, my first "official" pilgrimage came about this same time last year when I traveled to Ireland. It was on that fair isle that I "knew" I would be going to Egypt (although with no forethought of this rapid timing.)

A 2nd pilgrimage is kind of like birthing your 2nd child. With the first one, ignorance is bliss. One can get all caught up in the excitement of the preparation without a clue of the life changing impact that awaits. With Ireland (as with my first child), I prepared and anticipated and understood it would alter my life, but didn't factor in the painful birthing and permanence of change. With my second physical birthing, I remembered the hours of labor, the discomfort and the incredible joy of bringing new life into the midst.

So, as I prepare to leave for the Sinai desert in about 10 days, I am awaiting my 2nd birth with trembling and awe. I know I am approaching holy ground. While in Ireland, I removed my shoes and sunk my toes in the rich damp loam. I walked across sharp rocks in an abandoned chapel and felt the sting of holiness surround me. The contrast of that damp climate and where I am going could not be greater. Arid air. Burning sand. Desolate terrain. Will my feet beg to curl their toes into the hot desert? I will travel in the path of Moses. Will I, too, receive the command to remove my shoes?

How does one prepare for something like this? Cousineau says if its the "real thing" then it will be challenging and you will tremble in its wake. In the past weeks as my departure date assuredly approaches, I have wondered, "Is this real?"... and then I read a phrase or hear my guide's voice and my heart trembles. I can only describe it as awe. It is joy mixed with terror. I have come into the presence of the almighty God. She beckons me to don my desert attire - to pare down - to simply come.

Simplicity has been my guide for several months now. My body is strong and lean. It bends and moves in the heat of hot yoga. My most challenging pose is "camel" - a heart-opening pose. Is this coincidence? Irony? Preparation? My home is clean and decluttered. I've been removing items that no longer serve me - that take up excess space in my life. I'm opening up for something - for what I do not know. I don't dare to even guess. This journey beckons me like a deer to water - like a Bedouin to an oasis. Surety has left my thinking and has entered my soul. I know I am standing on Holy ground - dare I know more?

photo © h3images

Simplicity

“Simplicity is the seedbed for sane, free, illumined holy living.” Tilden Edwards

In the stillness I return to God. The busyness of the last five days settles into my body like a workout followed by Savasana . They say it is in corpse pose that the benefits of the practice come. Returning to stillness, I am regenerated. Listening to my body, I know it needs rest today. Will I pull out of the quiet and press forward or can I rest here in the simplicity of my bed – rejuvenating?

I ponder the complexity of my simple existence. Eating when hungry. Stopping when full. Resting when tired. Moving when restless. Going when called. The practices of my life. Focusing on here and now. The garbage truck rumbling outside my window. Aslan purring against my chest. Pen flowing across paper. My heart beats inside my chest. Coffee flavors the walls of my mouth.

Here and now is all I have. This perfect, simple moment is enough. My stomach growls. The kitty hiccups. My head has a slight twinge of ache. I pause - slowing down to the minuscule of the moment. Operating at the speed of breath. Entering into holy living.

Care to join me?

photo from Bainbridge Ferry 7.15.10

Stalking Crows

“Wherever crows are, there is magic. They are symbols of creation and spiritual strength. They remind us to look for opportunities to create and manifest the magic of life. They are messengers calling to us about the creation and magic that is alive within our world everyday and available to us.” Ted Andrews

While outwardly there has been silence at Diamonds, inwardly and physically the coffers have been full – abundant even. It’s hard to even know where to begin. For those who are first time readers, you may find this a little outside the boundaries of your own personal comfort. Longtime and loyal followers, I hope will remember the groundedness and magic that is Me, Lucy ☺.

Crows have been stalking me. No kidding. You may recall a few weeks ago, the crow who swooped down and whacked me on the shoulder – twice! – while I was strolling home from yoga enjoying my morning latte. The significance of the event was easily dismissed as a protective mother crow whose hatchlings I was evidently threatening. Fair enough and most likely true. But why me? Why then? It’s never happened before and believe me I live around LOTS of crows.

Over the past week or so, crow feathers have been dropping in my path. Again, not so unusual perhaps, but they literally have been found directly between my back door and my car – three times. Like the whacking on the shoulder, to my recollection this has never happened before.

Before continuing, I probably should add here that only days before the first crow encounter, while preparing for a presentation on the Archetypes, I took a quiz designed to rate how the major archetypes show up in my personality. My number 1 score (by a landslide)... The Magician. So… you know the vestiges of my traditional, fundamental Christian upbringing start to squirm here. Nevertheless as I read about this archetype, I felt as though I were reading my own diaries. Still… I tried to dismiss the “coincidences,” until this morning when I began to journal.

A crow followed me yesterday. I swear it did. Heading out for my morning walk/jog, she started squawking at me and I thought there might be a repeat of the shoulder whacking. I tried to ignore her, but she followed me along the telephone wire above my head.

“Magic,” she cawed.
“You can’t run from it. I know. I know,” she cried.
“I see you.”
Every 20 feet or so she moved to keep up my pace for almost a block.
“Magic. You are magic.”

So, have I totally lost it this time? No. I don’t think so. This morning during my quiet time, I felt the magic as Pavarotti washed over me. I lit candles for the earth and wept tears for the gulf tragedy. Raising my arms, I spread them toward the southeast. Energy flowed from my body and as I offered the earth my condolences, I envisioned clarity and peace. Faces flowed through my mind and moments of presence to all of creation surfaced.

“Magic. Magic,” the crow cawed. “Presence is magic.”

My life is turning into one ongoing practice of presence to self – food – earth – others. While there is much more to this story, today I shall end with the following quote and ask: Where is the magic in your life? Does it come through presence? Can you allow yourself to be open to that which makes no objective sense? Will you allow yourself to experience the magic of the sacred?

“To the Magician, the sacred is not seen as above us, judging us, but as immanent in ourselves, nature, society, the earth, the cosmos.” Carol S. Pearson


photo - two crows by katherine treffinger
This piece of art hangs in my living room and was purchased for my husband on Father's Day 2009.

What We Already Know

Did I ever tell you about my Hawaiian labyrinth experience? Perhaps not because it kind of fits into one of those categories of inexplicable. It was a journey even getting there. Recommended by my friend and fellow spiritual director, Mary Ellen, we (six adult family members) were on a mission to find the Sacred Gardens in Maui. (In reality, my sister and I were on the mission - the rest were more or less agreeable to join in the adventure.)

Upon arriving at the gardens, we were greeted by their giant guardian angel, Bodie. His joyful presence occupied the dog lovers with 150 pounds of slobbering puppy love. The gardens, book store and two labyrinths nestled into the center of this tropical island were entertainment enough for the rest of the gang.

When I finally made my way outside to the path surrounded by tropical forest, a fellow traveler had already started his walk. Rather than crowd him, I waited until he reached the center and began his trek out. For a few minutes we traversed the gravel pathway together, moving in and out along the sacred road. While I was only mildly aware of his presence, there came a moment when he stopped at the edge of the circle, paused and then stepped out. In that split second, I felt a noticeable shift in the energy around me - not good, not bad, just different. The labyrinth was now all mine.

Walking with gentle steps, I became aware of light raindrops touching my bare skin. There was something fresh and new about the drops sifting through the green foliage, while contented birds sang in tune with my every step. Not being one to let a little water slow me down (it is, after all, my word for the year), I continued my pilgrimage. The rain persisted and picked up speed as I realized I would soon be soaking wet (having only just dried out from the morning's beach combing.) That was when the second angel appeared - Eve, (appropriately named in this garden of Eden) the proprietress, silently offered me a giant umbrella to help keep me dry.

Striped bumbershoot in hand, I continued my walk toward center. Upon arrival, I found the rest of the world had slipped away. I wasn't aware of anyone or anything except the present moment. Time stood still. As I tipped my head back to peek from beneath my shelter, the rain slowed down to the pace creation. I could see each drop appearing, one by one. And as I felt my whole being stretching upward, I experienced the hands of God reaching for my own - forming the drops of moisture out of thin air and pouring them into the being that is me. Aaahhhhhh. Yes, time stood still.

There are moments in a lifetime, I believe, that cause a molecular shift in your whole being. Even though they may drift in and out of conscious memory, they are embedded in who I am - in who you are. Currently, I am reading about Yoruba religion (a new one for me). In this tradition, Yoruba wisdom speaks of "recalling what we already know within." While I cannot adequately describe with words, I know that standing in the center of the Sacred Garden's labyrinth was one of those moments of "recalling."

How about you? Have you ever experienced moments of recalling what you already know deep within?

For my "official" review of God is Not One, visit here Monday, April 26 when I’m featured on the TLC Book Tour.

Bodie & Sacred Gardens © h3 images - artwork currently on display here and here.

Internal or External?

Pondering. Resting. Sleeping. Reading. Considering others. Caring for myself. All of these things seem to be the rhythm of my Lenten days. An internal air continues to hover around me and as I just responded to a lovely post at Barefoot Toward the Light, I realize this quiet space feels just right for now. Different for me, but somehow just right.

It has been a simple weekend filled with walks and lots of rest. I've taken care of the few "have to's" on my list and spent the rest of the time tending to relationship - sometimes with my family, often with God, always with me. It feels necessary and good.

In the midst of the internal space, I also received two very outward reminders of my presence in the world which were delightful indeed. Yesterday, I received my very own copy of Awakening the Creative Spirit - a fantastic new book by Christine Paintner and Betsey Beckman, two of my dear friends and colleagues. I highly recommend it for anyone interested in the arts and becoming "fully awake" as today's Lenten verse* highlights. The exciting news for me is that I am the co-writer of Chapter 15 on "Arts-Centered Supervision". You can only imagine my delight to see my authorship officially acknowledged on page 197 (as well as a few other places throughout the book!)

The other 'outward reminder' can be found in visual form where you catch a glimpse of me as spiritual director in this PBS episode on religion. I show up around minute two with my most compassionate face and listening ears. Don't blink or you'll miss my adult TV debut! Seriously, it's a great video covering the topic of spiritual direction. I hope you'll go take a peak!!

OK, that's all I have to share for now. Time to huddle back up with hot tea and my Kindle!

P.S. I'd love to know how your Lenten season is progressing.

*Luke 9:28-36

Shilshole Sailboats - 2.20.10 © lucy

Spirit like water...

"Spirit like water
is a source of life."

--Mark Nepo

Sometimes I wonder if I shared everything that transpires in my day and mind whether or not people might think I was going a little crazy. In mental health, it is said if you at least think you're a little nuts, it is a sign of sanity - so at least I have that going for me.

The truth is I feel so connected to the Universe that I have moments when I wonder which realm I am operating in. This time of year in particular is designated as a very "thin" time when the veil between the known and unknown worlds dissipates. My air was already pretty thin, so my ancestral mind that lies just below consciousness has kicked into high gear. For example...

During and since I went to Ireland, I have been experiencing lots of technicolor dreams. When I am disciplined enough to awaken, I can capture them on paper before I return to sleep. Last night, I was vividly dreaming and was making a SoulCollage® card in my sleep (not literally), BUT... when I awakened this morning, the materials had already been gathered to create the card I dreamed. (I keep a stack of images that attract my attention nearby.) I was dreaming of creating a Source card which symbolizes the Oneness of All Things. In reality no image is suitable for the Source for it is without form. (Some people refer to this as their God card.) Nevertheless, swirls continued to follow me throughout my dreams as they have for years in various shapes, sizes and forms, so I laid out the images on my desk and sat down for some quiet meditation. It was then that Nepo's quote greeted me. "Spirit like water is the source of life." Key word - Source. Key images - Water. Before me lay my floating, swirling water-filled card I was considering naming "Source."

Am I making this up? No. Had I read those words before? Maybe. Had I already seen the images? Yes. Did they all come together in one serendipitous moment? Absolutely. Does this make me crazy? Nah, I don't think so. Is it just coincidence? Nope, don't think that either. This, I believe, is part of the great mystery of being alive. It is bigger than anything we can possibly imagine AND it meets us in the everyday of our lives, when we allow ourselves to open up.

So, that's how my day started. Not particularly unusual for me. How about for you? Any encounters with serendipity, synchronicity, thin air or the like lately? Please share... it's much more fun to be a little crazy with friends, isn't it?

"source" - created by lucy 11.08.09

serendipity? synchronicity? spirituality?

So, this is kind of how my life goes. Following yesterday's post, this showed up in my inbox this morning. Hmmmm.

Today's thought from Hazelden is:

Saying No

For many of us, the most difficult word to say is one of the shortest and easiest in the vocabulary: No. Go ahead, say it aloud: No.

No - simple to pronounce, hard to say. We’re afraid people won’t like us, or we feel guilty. We may believe that a “good” employee, child, parent, spouse, or Christian never says no.

The problem is, if we don’t learn to say no, we stop liking ourselves and the people we always try to please. We may even punish others out of resentment.

When do we say no? When no is what we really mean.

When we learn to say no, we stop lying. People can trust us, and we can trust ourselves. All sorts of good things happen when we start saying what we mean.

If we’re scared to say no, we can buy some time. We can take a break, rehearse the word, and go back and say no. We don’t have to offer long explanations for our decisions.

When we can say no, we can say yes to the good. Our no’s and our yes’s begin to be taken seriously. We gain control of ourselves. And we learn a secret: “No” isn’t really that hard to say.

Today, I will say no if that is what I mean.

You are reading from the book:

The Language of Letting Go by Melody Beattie

ashes and smudges

This morning my husband and I entered a church together for the second time in one week – not something we have done in nearly two years. Interfaith Community Church is simple and beautiful, reminiscent of a building you would see in a country pastoral setting rather than tucked amidst homes in an urban neighborhood. We could see the classic white steeple from a few blocks away. The sanctuary is two pews wide and about 12 rows deep. It is sparse with hard old pews and no flashy carpeting or stained glass windows. The thematic colors this morning were silvery sage with lilac ribbons wrapped around dried floral arrangements.

The room smelled of incense although for a moment upon entering, I asked my husband if it didn’t smell like marijuana ☺. A man of possibly 70 or 80 years of age handed us a bulletin and greeted us as we entered. I counted 12 people in total including the morning’s speakers. The room was to fill up to at least double that by the time the service began. Gong music played from a small stereo and candles were lit by the aging man and his spouse.

No one rushed over to greet us although several did nod their heads toward us in welcome. We were told more than once that every Sunday is unique and has its own theme. The service today was led by a woman who is a teacher of metaphysics and a Reiki master. She is very near my age and spent several years working in New Zealand and Australia while studying both Eastern and Western paths.

Her “sermon” began with the congregation performing the act of smudging to bring us into awareness of the room. We were asked during the process to consider where our minds were. Did we have judgments? Are we present in the room? Are we wondering what will come next? My mind went to my first “smudging” when we attended a parent workshop in Mexico. My thoughts mainly wondered what my husband was thinking about this church I had suggested. It was far from the traditional background with which we are more familiar.

Next we participated in a drumming exercise. I love drumming and while I brought my own drum, I chose to leave it in the car since I had no idea what to expect in this service. Hubby opted out of the drumming. He later explained that he wanted to just listen today. And so the morning went. It was filled with activities such as breath work (something I practice in yoga) and meditations, which I have done both on my own and in various workshops. All of the practices were activities in which I have found solace and clarity yet I have not necessarily placed them in the context of “church.” Hmmm…

This experience will take a little processing for me. Something seems to be stirring in me that begs for more community. I have become more and more comfortable with following the lead of my heart and coming to find that it usually trails to a pathway to God. In fact, most pathways lead to God when I listen closely. On Wednesday I received the mark of the ashes at a reasonably conservative church. God was there. Today, I received the smudge of the sage and cedar and listened to the rhythm of the drums. God was there. Like I said in my earlier writing, God just seems to keep getting bigger. This is already proving to be quite an interesting season of Lent and we're only five days in. Hmmmm...

vines, threes & serendipity???

It is gray this morning. I was expecting sunshine and it has not decided to arrive quite yet. There is a post bubbling around in my brain about roots and vines, but instead of letting the words flow out of my pen, I myself have remained rooted here in my cozy bed.

I sit here pondering about the serendipity of life. Is it God’s plan? Is it random energy or merely coincidence? Or is it something I make up in my brain to make sense out of things that otherwise might make no sense at all?

I wonder about the power of three’s and even where that idea even began. And lest you think I am on a total ramble, it is indeed the occurrence of three, serendipitous appearances of roots and vines that I am pondering. I hesitate in the writing, because words are not clearly forming yet the images stand bold in my mind and beg to be placed on paper and so I choose to give it a go.

Recently while having coffee with a dear friend, she began to relay an experience of her own. My friend has been experiencing a sense of flightiness and floating away and these senses have caused her some anxiety. In her story, she was seeking counsel and her adviser asked her to try and imagine herself as rooted to the ground with strong vines holding her in place. She has been curious about the imagery that was offered and was thus sharing it with me for my thoughts. While she spoke I tried to contain myself and continue to listen closely to her story. I myself was getting excited, because my heart did a little jump when she shared the imagery of the vines.

Why the ‘heart jump’? Well, just a few days earlier I was participating in an exercise called dynamic meditation where the goal is to exhaust the body and active thoughts so as to clear space to listen. (When I ‘clear space to listen’, it is my goal and hope to listen to God and I have found that God does indeed meet me in those spaces quite often.) Part of the exercise had us in an immobile state for 15 minutes. I must say it was quite painful physically and all my brain could do was attempt to figure out how much longer this would last and did not feel clear of thought at all!! ☺ However, when the music changed and we were given the opportunity to once again move, I found that my feet were planted to the ground. I could not move and actually had no desire to do the very thing I had been focusing on for the last 15 minutes.

As I stood there, a vision came into my mind of vines coming out of the ground and wrapping themselves around my right leg. They were beautiful like ivy and felt more akin to security than something binding or frightening. I stood there for a few moments and allowed myself to let the imagery sink in and then I physically reached down and gently unwound the vines so that I could move my legs and participate in the next part of the exercise. It was really a powerful experience on its own, and then to have my friend share virtually the same visual before hearing about my own was truly amazing. She and I both vowed to consider more what the imagery means for each of us.

The third instance came when I impulsively picked up (& bought) a book (Dare to Journey with Henri Nouwen) on my way out of the bookstore yesterday. Here is an excerpt from the first reflection:

“So we try to do more while our energies ebb away and we become like uprooted trees with our roots wildly groping for the sky. Thus we anxiously throw our arms toward heaven, praying for extra grace and special enabling, when instead we should be planted again in nourishing soil. That soil is not meant to make us do less, but to change our priorities so that we take time to be still. And in the stillness, find new strength and hope.” --Charles Ringma

So, there you have it. My little story of vines, threes and serendipity. I am still pondering what to make of it, but I must say the grounding feels quite nice. As always, thoughts and comments are welcomed. Peace. ☺

The Sky is on Fire

"Why didn't I see this before? That my creative life is my deepest prayer. That I must pray it from my heart, from my soul. Not from my head or my need for security or approval or to gain some sort of repute. I must write from the Self. The deep true place." --Sue Monk Kidd

The sky is on fire this morning. The orange ball has exploded and spread a wash of pink, orange, red and yellow across the fall sky. I cannot capture it with my camera. Can my eye hold the image? Can my words? So ethereal—slipping through my fingers. I want to hold it, touch it, capture it, roll around and bathe in it naked to find myself washed with the colors of the roses. Fragrant and sweet. A pleasing aroma to God.

Whole. Pure. Naked. Blossoming. My body is filled with desire for this feminine being. She has spread the colors through the heavens. Who else could yield the paintbrush so lavishly? It feels erotic and exotic—washing, spreading, bursting, filling the sky with gentle and bold colors. Both. Both/and. Gentle and bold. Tender and strong. The images of God. How can we hold that God is only male or female? How can we hold that God is anything we can name? Anything we can “hold?”

The image of the sky brings me alive. Washes away the pain in my head and arm. I am slipping. Moving back into my body. For a moment or two I was gone. I was one with the sky. The pen and paper. The world. One with God. More me than the moment before and the moment after. The glimpses of heaven. The shout of purity. The paradox. The both/and. The beauty of God. How can we say he or she? Why must we define? What is our need to categorize? Good. Evil. Right. Wrong. Both/and. Perhaps they just are. Who am I to say?

The sky is on fire this morning and of course it is not.

photo by lucy 10.09.07

Where Creativity & Spirituality Meet

prompted by a lovely post @ abbey of the arts

My art is where the world slips away and comes more fully into focus. It is where I get out of my own way. To disappear in one sense, but in another to become more fully visible and alive than in any other area of my life.

The wind and I become one. The flame burns within my heart and I am consumed yet not consumed at all. The words flow freely like water down a babbling spring or rushing like a powerful torrent over the edge of a mighty waterfall.

I am firmly rooted in the ground. My feet blending into the earth as I spring forth tall and majestic like the mighty oak reaching toward the heavens. I am the gentle breeze softly whispering words of love and care. My power is building, twisting, twirling.

The wind and I become one. And so the circle continues. I am timeless, beautiful, power-filled and unique. True to my core and essence of who I am created to be. I am the earth. The Mother. Matter. Earth. Wind. Fire. Water.

I am whole. Complete. Perfect. Me.

photo by h3images--who says in photographs what i cannot say in words.

Harmony

Head and Heart. We have both for a reason. Trying to live using only one leads to imbalance. For most people it is easier to listen with the head, but the body gets restless and screams, “Hear me! Listen to Me!” Headaches. Shoulder Tension. Back pain. Ulcers.

It is hard to hold in the feelings of the heart. It wants to beat. It wants to burst and break free. And, its cohort, the mind, wants to rest. All that thinking can be exhausting. Sleepless nights. Ragged days. Endless lists. Spinning. Twirling. Vertigo.

Body, mind, soul. See the connection? If the heart is the soul; if the head is the mind; and the body is, well, the body, they should all work together. It is the ideal balance. Created by God in perfect unity and harmony.

We are finely tuned beings. So, if one part feels like it is missing or out of whack—Pay attention. Think. Feel. Breathe. Let Go. Mind. Soul. Body. Harmony.

photo found here.

sanctuary of the soul

"Deep within us all there is an amazing inner sanctuary of the soul, a holy place, a Divine Center, a speaking Voice, to which we may continuously return. Eternity is at our hearts, pressing upon our time-torn lives, warming us with intimations of an astounding destiny, calling us home into Itself. Yielding to these persuasions, gladly committing ourselves in body and soul, utterly and completely to the Light within, is the beginning of true life. It is a dynamic center, creative Life that presses to birth within us." Thomas Kelly -- A Testament of Devotion

photo by bill

opening the eyes of our soul

words from my morning prayer:

the arms of God wrap around me. enclosing me. enveloping me. telling me i am safe without words. i breathe him in. the scent of his maleness and my beauty combined. sensuous. sensual. becoming one. coming home. just breathe. breathe me in. sense me like a child taking my hand. like a dog who raises his nose to the fresh morning air. breathe me in.

safety. trust. sensual. born to be beautiful. to ache with desire and settle into trust. the pain and the glory. breathe me in. just breathe. so rich, so pure. Yahweh. breath of God. carrying me on the wind. cradled. held. met. no terror. free. free falling. held. lovely. kind. free.

These words from Henri Nouwen followed:

The desert fathers...point us toward a very holistic view of prayer. They pull us away from our intellectualizing practices, in which God becomes one of the many problems we have to address. They show us that real prayer penetrates to the marrow of our soul and leaves nothing untouched. The prayer of the heart is a prayer that does not allow us to limit our relationship with God to interesting words or pious emotions. By its very nature such prayer transforms our whole being into Christ precisely because it opens the eyes of our soul to the truth of ourselves as well as to the truth of God. The prayer of the heart challenges us to hide absolutely nothing from God and to surrender ourselves unconditionally to God's mercy. --The Way of the Heart

Praise be to God. Amen.

photo by bill

Teachers...Questions...Christians

"Teachers arise from somewhere within me that is beyond me, the way the dark soil that is not the root holds the root and feeds the flower." --Mark Nepo

this morning i was invited to visit a young friend's new blog. he has recently left home for college and finds himself staying at the home of Christian friends. his post displayed many of his interior and exterior battles as he tries to navigate living with people whose religious beliefs he finds "a bit hard" for him.

it is so rich to have friends of all ages, genders, religions and life experiences. we have much to learn from each other. everyone is our teacher if we open ourselves to the possibility. this young man's post led me to respond to him with the questions i continue to ask myself as i walk through this journey toward and with God, so i thought i would share my response with you.

"just wondering what defines a "Christian" for you? i ask myself the same question all the time.

having grown up in a pretty traditional "Christian" place, i have found that the more i realize the expansiveness of the mystery of God and the universe and the lack of absolutes, the closer i come to knowing (truly knowing) that the way of God is love (which is so ethereal and impossible to adequately describe with words).

is love then the way of "Christians"? i know it doesn't always appear that way especially when we witness the "battles over denomination" and the "badgering toward salvation."

i have to wonder, however, what your hosts see in you that would lead them to believe you are "Christian". could it be the love you show toward others?

i hope and pray you will continue to ask yourself the questions and you will see the beautiful young man who can choose to live in love.

I fully believe that Christ's way is that of love...Does that therefore make those who love deeply and well Christians? many would say no, but many are opening their minds and hearts to reconsider what "love" and "Christian" truly represent."

while i wrote these words to my young friend, they were also written for myself and now also to those who will read them here. what does it mean to be "Christian?" what does it mean to love? what do you think?

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!

Theological World View

I found this survey at Anchors and Masts. The results are interesting and I have to say that the "summary" states pretty accurately my world view. The part I found to be quite curious is that in my post About Me I said I am "a reforming fundamentalist" and that category has now scored the lowest today. Does that mean I am "reformed"?

So much to learn. So little time.

You scored as Emergent/Postmodern, You are Emergent/Postmodern in your theology. You feel alienated from older forms of church, you don't think they connect to modern culture very well. No one knows the whole truth about God, and we have much to learn from each other, and so learning takes place in dialogue. Evangelism should take place in relationships rather than through crusades and altar-calls. People are interested in spirituality and want to ask questions, so the church should help them to do this. Emergent/Postmodern 82% Neo orthodox 61% Classical Liberal 61% Roman Catholic 57% Evangelical Holiness/Wesleyan 57% Modern Liberal 57% Charismatic/Pentecostal 54% Reformed Evangelical 18% Fundamentalist 11% What's your theological worldview? created with QuizFarm.com

flickr fan photo and comments are here

The results showed a photo (which I removed due to spacing issues) of Brian McLaren whose book "a Generous Orthodoxy" was one of my recent reads. I highly recommend it. I found much clarity in seeing both the differences and similarites among the various forms of theological views. The one category the survey left out is "unfinished Christian." It is probably the one I can most enthusiastically claim!

Why I Am A Poet

Last night before retiring, I read the chapter “Why I am Mystical/Poetic” in Brian McLaren’s aGenerous Orthodoxy. McLaren referenced several points from theologian Walter Brueggemann’s introductory essay to Finally Comes the Poet which speaks of the Gospel being a “truth widely held, but a truth greatly reduced. It is a truth that has been flattened, trivialized, and rendered inane.”

Both authors go on to make the point that “reduced speech leads to reduced lives.” The point being how do we resurrect a truth that is buried in prose. Here is what Brueggeman suggests:

“To address the issue of a truth greatly reduced requires us to be poets that speak against a prose world. The terms of that phrase are readily misunderstood. By prose I refer to a world that is organized in settled formulae, so that even pastoral prayers and love letters sound like memos. By poetry, I do not mean rhyme, rhythm, or meter, but language that moves like Bob Gibson’s fast ball, that jumps at the right moment, that breaks open old worlds with surprise, abrasion, and pace. Poetic speech is the only proclamation worth doing in a situation of reductionism, the only proclamation, I submit, that is worthy of the name preaching.”

Makes sense to me. Have you ever tried to describe a deep feeling with words? When I struggled with how to describe Jesus in three lines, prose felt totally inadequate. When the words would not come, they made their way in poetry.

So, here’s to the poets of the world! Which leads to one last offering. This morning I read Tess’ Sunday Collection (always a Sunday favorite!) which aptly this week is a tribute to poetry. Take a look. Read a poem. Maybe write one if you feel so called.

photo by geezer dude