Watery Vision

I hold a song in my hand and touch new birth.

Watery though my vision may be, it is true.

Flowing. Flowing. Flowing...

Light rising through me.

Watery though my vision may be, it is true.

Grounded in love,

Light rising through me,

I create. Lead. Inspire.

Grounded in love,

Flowing. Flowing. Flowing...

I create. Lead. Inspire...

As I hold a song in my hand and touch new birth.

© Kayce Stevens Hughlett, March 2012

Collage and words inspired while leading Exploring Archetypal Energies through the Expressive Arts on the Hood Canal, March 2012.

Dilemma: Is authenticity book suicide?

I ponder. I play. I muse. I write to discover what I know.

It’s always been a whole lot easier to write about life unedited in the privacy of my journal than put it out for all the world to see (and scrutinize). It’s considerably easier to let my pen flow unabashedly and discover what surprises, delights or terrifies me on the safe lines of my composition notebook than to share it in a public forum. Somewhere along the way, however (probably in said journal), the idea of a blog and ultimately a book began to emerge. Since then I’ve often battled the tricky space between writing to discover what I know and writing what I think, you, the reader might want to hear.

It’s a crazy balance, because when I get caught up in You, I lose Me. The wild thing is that experience has shown what my faithful readers seem to love most is the unedited, messy, transparent and authentic Me. The pieces that have landed home most often are not the carefully crafted, publisher-worthy submissions, but rather the scrawled and messy gems straight from my morning pages. So, what's a girl to do?

The performance pressure is mounting, since I’m in the final (sort of) publishing stages of my book (working title: Ponderings) and the promotion has begun (kind of.) My social self says that everything – every word, comma, spelling error, hairstyle, breakfast menu, social agenda, perfect turn of a phrase and more – is a commentary (pro or con) on this book. Please say it ain’t so…

If true, this poses quite the dilemma, because at this point I absolutely cannot stop myself from writing and this blog has always been the raw version of greater things to come. My inner being still yearns to toss these unedited, heart-inspired missiles out into the stratosphere to see where they may land. As I was journaling this morning, I remembered the lifeline and savior that writing has been for me. Putting my words onto paper and out into the world is the essential breath for living my authentic life.

Some will say that continuing to write in this way is book suicide. So be it. Others may say it’s brilliant and that’s why they’ll buy my published words. Fabulous. Bottom line, I will continue to do things my way which is the only way I know how to do it. As far as I can tell, it’s working for ME.

I ponder. I play. I muse. I write to discover what I know.

Pondering... 30 in 30 - Day 13

VISUAL PONDER...


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

Diamonds in the Soul - helping high-functioning, under-living people uncover & maintain personal delight & joy in life.

Sacred Sunday: Walkin' on Sunshine

I love Sunday mornings. Lingering. Journaling. Taking time and space for me to see what rises up. Images - visual and written stir through my mind. The past week gone. The next not yet here. I sit in the sacred present. Only now.

Candlelight and gentle music. Fan blowing. Family sleeping. Coffee, hot and warm by my side. “Live with Passion.” Yes. Choose life. Choose me. Images call my name. Some already gathered. The girl in the pink sweater. She beckoned to me while I was preparing for my workshop. She was mine. Held in space until just the right time.

“Walkin’ on Sunshine.” My day yesterday. My life now. Inseparable from the universe. One moment folds into the next. Grounded. Whole. Light and airy. Held by the hand of God. The hands of my father. My ancestors.

Walking towards Ireland. Walking toward myself. I hold on and I move forward. With trepidation, not fear. Quivering, undulating movement. The pendulum of my grounded heart swings. The souls (soles) of my feet dance and move and walk on sunshine… with sunshine… through sunshine.

I am sunshine. Lucy of the light. Illuminated and free. My passion glowing and growing for others to see. I am Norah – the one of compassion. And Lil – life’s beauty. They surround me. Bold and emboldened.

The past and present collide and unite with the girl in the pink sweater. Head tossed back and laughing with glee. Trusting. Trusted. Held. Safe in the arms of my father and my mother. Grounded. They offered so much. Did their best. Healed me. Broke me. Made me.

Skipping and dancing, I share my light. My unique image of God. Belly full. Day arising. Lovely. Beautiful. Creating and created.

Party of the Heart

“We have to create and discover the parties of the heart, the place where we know we can enjoy what is, and that we have indeed survived and even flourished another day of our one and only life. Just make sure you are somewhere, and always, definitively in love! Then you'll see rightly, because only when we are in love can we accept the mystery that almost everything is.” --Richard Rohr

Listening to: Dance me to the End of Love by Leonard Cohen

A glorious few days. A party of the heart. Working. Loving. Laughing. Creating. Watching the rain fall. Listening to music fall into place. Working alongside Bill. Walking with friends. Chatting with my sister. Picking silly songs. Writing. Collaging. Meeting Norah. Finding compassion for myself and others. Life is indeed a party of the heart if we allow the music in.

Life is full these days. My transitions of the past have opened the doors to my future. My now. These are the words I have today. Fullness is here and now. More awaits outside my door and through my window. The eyes of my heart long to put feet on my faith. Wishing you a blessed day.

"God is not a being. God is being itself." --Richard Rohr

Norah and the Watchers

"It is here in the unwatched space that peace begins." --Mark Nepo

Have you ever experienced the paranoia of “the watchers” – the fear that everyone is watching you or worse still that no one is? I spent years shedding the notion that people were observing me and expecting me to fail or not live up to their standards. I learned that often people really don't care what you're up to as long as you don't get in their way. However, being raised under a highly critical eye helped me become finely attuned to those times when the watchers do show up. It’s a blessing and a curse.

I can’t always name it, but I know when something's amiss. I begin to feel it in my gut. Sometimes it starts elsewhere – a prickle of the skin – a twinge of the heart. I know something is going on, but I can’t exactly put it in words. I want to shrug it off – to deny the watchers are there - to hope for the goodness of others and deny the potential overreaction of myself.

For Buffy fans, you know that Giles is her watcher. He is there for Buffy’s safety, mentoring and training. In many traditions, God is known as watcher and protector. It is comforting to know others are watching on our behalf. But what about the other watchers – those who watch through fear-clouded orbs instead of eyes of the heart? At times, I am guilty of this clouded vision. If an issue is someone else’s fault, then I am absolved. It is much easier to blame our problems on others than to take personal responsibility. It seems that those watching for evil in others will find what they are looking for. My hope is that by opening our eyes to goodness it will also be found.

From time to time, my fine attunement tells me the watchers are present. Will they seek goodness or evil? Responsibility or absolution? My hope is that each of us will seek and find the unwatched space where peace begins - beginning with ourselves and then sharing it with others.

Listening to the Two-year-old

Have you ever witnessed the power of a two-year-old, or do you remember being that age yourself? Can you recall having the audacity to say NO or MINE without apology? Are you able to call on that energy today (perhaps in a slightly more adult fashion)?

Recently the voice of a two-year-old introduced itself into my journaling. I was considering how and why in some situations it takes me a very long time to say, “No. I don’t wanna.” Saying no has been a very odd thing for me to consider since I really don’t view myself as a “yes-girl” especially in terms of always doing what others want without regard to my personal well-being or preference. Still, I have recently discovered through reading Transitions that there are certain places where I naturally revert to my childhood patterns of hanging on. (Patterns that most likely developed sometime AFTER the age of two).

A few days ago I was writing in my journal and this two-year-old showed up and said "NO" and "MINE" with great authority. I wasn’t totally clear on what she meant, but I decided to try and give her a little more voice through collage. She seemed to be pointing me in a direction of letting go of others' expectations and firmly taking hold of priorities that seem better suited to me at this point in my journey.

As I have explained before in regard to collage, it is usually helpful to place boundaries on this process in the way of time, space or number of images selected, magazines used, etc. This time I chose about an inch high stack of gathered images and sorted through it – holding in mind the image of a two-year-old girl.

This is the point where process shows it is often much more important than product. (I could learn as much from the images selected and not used in the collage as I can from the collage itself.) In my stack, there were no images of girls (or few anyway). Most of the photos that captured the essence of what I was feeling were boys. Yes, boys! I found it a bit irritating since my heart was set on this little girl, but I kept after it until I had about a dozen photos in front of me. Pondering them, the words 'Sacred No' entered my thoughts. The ‘Sacred No’ is most often associated with masculine energy and boundary setting. Was it any wonder then that the images popping into my hand were male as I pondered NO and personal boundaries? There was little question in my mind that in my current discernment I need to take the hand of the 'Sacred No' and welcome it in. It is not a bad thing to say no. In fact, it may be a great gift. Hmmmm.

I apparently transition slowly when it comes to letting go of things I hold dear and consider an integral part of my growth and development. Right now however, it feels like it’s time for me to do something that is MINE and approach it with the tenacity of a two-year-old. So, what do you think? Is there an inner two-year-old inside you begging to come out and scream No! or No more! Or Not yet! Or any other version of that? Where do you need to be empowered to follow your dreams - to say MINE? I seem to be finding my power through the voice of a little person who lives inside me. How about you?

"And Jesus said, Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." Matthew 19:14

collage by lucy 8.08.09

next up...stoic chick

The chicks just keep on hatching. Very closely related to Voiceless Chick is the next version in development, Stoic Chick (SC). SC is the one who tries to speak and comes across as impenetrable. Others see her as unapproachable and lacking vulnerability. What they fail to see is her naked little self hiding somewhere inside.

So, what is she hiding? Fear. Duh! Aren’t they all? I haven’t even gotten to Rageful Chick, but here is a note that fell out of my journal this morning. Your fury/rage protects your heart from being dismissed and abandoned. These chicks are here for a purpose and even though I tend to get frustrated when they show up, I need to listen to why they are here.

Pondering Stoic Chick, she primarily shows up when she doesn’t feel safe or trust what is going on around her. When it is too much to bare her heart and soul. She appears proud and arrogant even though inside she is breaking and pleading that someone will see her for who she really is. Stoic Chick has been called cold and distant. Yep, she does a good job of that. But, hey, don’t we all feel like running for cover or turning away when we don’t feel safe? SC is a poor impersonation of someone trying to stay present.

It gets to be a potentially vicious cycle when people start to call SC names, because how safe is that? So what’s a girl to do when someone demands vulnerability and names you deficient in your ability to love? This chick wants to be brave. She refuses to leave, but is punished for staying. She wants to be vulnerable, but should a child come out of hiding when it feels like a war zone? It is so tricky, because I know SC shows up and is hard to reach. I also understand that she usually doesn’t just pop in without being invited in some way.

It’s a hard thing to navigate. If I haven’t lost you here, I’d love to know your thoughts. Do you have a Stoic Chick? How do you approach your triggers? Run? Hide? Push back harder? Turn into Angry Chick or Voiceless Chick? Pray? All of the above? (btw--if your only answer is "pray"...angry chick will probably show up, but that's another story.)

stoic chick collage 8.06.09

Voiceless Chick - part 2

There is something really incredible about using the arts to break open areas of our life that might otherwise remain stuck in our heads. When I consider Voiceless Chick, I can give you all sorts of psychological reasons about why she is in my life – and they are highly evolved assessments...just ask me ☺. So, one might think that with all of that knowledge, I could keep VC from showing up. Unfortunately it’s not quite that simple. The understanding is helpful and as I mentioned yesterday, I realize it is important for me to listen when my stuck chicks show up.

The beauty of using arts such as collage, journaling and poetry to help process is that they give us a view from a new angle. (Right brain. Left brain. You know the drill.) I have been using Julia Cameron’s morning pages for more than five years now. Some days they feel like drivel and other times if I stick with it I find words flowing out that were buried deep inside. Often they feel otherworldly as though a Source greater than I is writing.

If I follow the process, there is often a visible shift in the voice in which I write. This happened while contemplating VC. The portion I shared yesterday was written in first person. The continuation shared here has a shift to second person.

You are just a little girl.
Close your eyes and breathe.
Listen to your inner voice.
It is strong and clear.
Listen and calm yourself with
your inner voice of authority.

My hand is here.
You are safe.
I hear your pleas.
Yes, my child,
You have a voice.
A voice within you that you and
I can hear.

You are not crazy.
You will not disappear.
You are made of light.
Pure light.
Lucy of the light.

Yes, they may talk and
whisper behind your back, but
You have a voice.
You have reclaimed it.
You can be calm in the midst of this storm.
Your voice is valid.

You have hands to reach down and
take the gag from your mouth.
You have tools.
Inner strength and authority.
You have me to help you speak.
I spoke and you listened.

So, what do you make of this? Do you think I need to be committed to a mental hospital since I am hearing voices? Or is this something to which you can relate? How do the arts play into your spiritual walk? Who might be your stuck chicks waiting to receive a voice?

partial collage by lucy 7.31.09

Voiceless Chick

The always creative BlissChick has invited us to work on our “stuck chicks.” I recently came face to face with one of my biggies, Voiceless Chick. Now, many who know me, whether in person or via blog, might question the presence of Voiceless Chick (VC), since I usually appear to have something to say.

VC, however, is a strong hanger-on in my life. She doesn’t show up often, but when she does I really need to pay attention. It is through paying attention to her that I find my voice. She isn’t trying to shut me down (which is what it can feel like). She’s actually trying to help me move forward.

Yesterday I created this collage to represent VC. Today I spent time making space for what the collage needed to say. Here are the words that arose:

I see her eyes pleading with me.
Help me speak.
Help me find my voice.
Only you can help me.

They whisper inside my head and behind my back.
Shutting me down.
Keeping my gut in turmoil.
It is not safe.
Not safe here.
There is a silent scream somewhere,
but even it is hidden.

I want to scream.
To yell.
To pound.
But I am voiceless.

So, I shut my eyes and
hope it will all go away.
But I am the one who starts to disappear.
Silence.
Silence.
Silence.

But the silence is only on the outside.
It is anything but silent within.
Shut the F up.
Shut up.
Take this and keep your mouth shut.
Like raw meat stuffed inside me,
I gag.
I want to roar,
but I choke on my words.

The chaos and confusion swirl.
Still she pleads with me.
Help.
Help me.
I have words.
I am not safe here.
Take me away.
Make the voices stop.
Why are they so loud and I am so silent?

(to be continued…)

Who is your stuck chick? (btw—chicks come in both genders.) Do you try to ignore and silence this chick? Or are you willing to listen to what he/she may have to teach you? Where/when does your Voiceless Chick show up?

enCouragingBliss: Building your Happy Place

Today I invite you to check out Blisschick's post on "building your happy place." This week's challenge is to create a collage of your happy place. I absolutely adore collage work and find it so enlightening to see what pops up.

For me, it's really important to not overthink the process, so this morning I set a few boundaries for myself. I opted to use just one magazine. (Today's choice was the May/June 2008 issue of Departures.) Flipping through the pages with the theme in mind, I intuitively selected images. The real challenge came when I decided to keep the size to fit in my visual journal (7" x 5 1/2 "). (I find paring down, helps me see what is essential.) So, I sorted through the pictures - cropping - tossing- rearranging - until I was satisfied with the layout. Glued them all down and voila - my happy place.

The visuals say much to me and I will probably add some journaling to complete this process. Perhaps it's time for you to consider your own happy place. This took me just about an hour from start to finish - not much time really in the big scheme of things. Isn't it worth playing with some glue and scissors to remind yourself what makes you happy?

Wishing you joy today!

blossoms speak

This seems to be the little combo that wanted to be posted today. Who am I to argue?

"Help the world by leaving a trail of who you are."

-- Mark Nepo

"blossoms" collage by lucy 1.31.09

advent retreat

Wow! This "37 day Advent season" is already rich beyond words and I am only three days into it. I have attempted several times to put into coherent words what has been happening over the last few days and alas I continue to end up somewhat speechless.

Some themes that continue to emerge are: light & darkness; vessels; brokenness; holding sorrow; woundedness & healing…God with us.

God’s love and guiding hand continue to amaze and surprise me beyond comprehension. One example is that several months ago I signed up for a Contemplative Retreat and it begins today. While I am certain that the retreat was planned with Advent in mind, it never occurred to me until the date came nearer.

And so, I am off for a few days to experience…who knows what? The program includes art-making, yoga, praying the hours and lots of ‘space’ in a beautiful setting. I am awed by God’s graciousness.

I will be leaving my computer at home and will return here Sunday at the earliest. In the meantime, I hope you will visit lucy creates where I have pre-dated a few images to continue “december views” in my absence.

Peace.

“Forbid that we should stumble through this day oblivious to the wonder in the ordinary.”

from God with Us

collage by lucy 12.03.08

what's emerging?

Formal words continue to elude me. As I wrote yesterday, thoughts seem to be forming more in colors and images. Please join me at lucy creates!!! today to see what emerged this morning. I found great comfort & peace there. I hope you will, too.

art making & prayer

Fall into the Mystery placed before you--
the one you will become will catch you.

--saying found in Lectio Divina

I awoke today with this collage beckoning to be created...or was it beckoning to create me? Either way, this was my morning prayer. It shall not soon leave me.

lectio divina

As I begin to read the new book, Lectio Divina, I find that an air of familiarity surrounds me. “This is what I do,” my internal voice says. And then the ego side pipes up and says, “Oh you think you know everything. Don’t you see how that closes the door to possibility?” It is a wonder that I can even get past the first page as my inner dialogue carries on a full-blown conversation! And then I read the words “hold this lightly.” Ahhhh, I can feel a sense of peace come over me for a moment, and then I am reminded of the opposite of holding lightly. It is grasping.

Buddhism speaks of the grasping mind and how it keeps us from peace and serenity. When we grasp our desires strongly, there is a driven quality that arises. Anxiety, jealousy, rigidity and insecurity all become stronger. So, as I consider lectio divina (an ancient prayer form which translates as ‘holy reading’) I wonder how I can hold lightly to the structure. How can I keep myself free of the arrogant sense of knowing and therefore leave myself open to new possibilities? Paintner and Wynkoop speak of a flowing rhythm and I wonder how this translates into my current practice of prayer.

I read. Contemplate. Meditate. Act. It flows. I move. I listen. I find myself open to possibility. Open to hearing. Do I express my gratitude? Do I allow myself to sit with God—resting in holy presence? The piece that has been missing for me recently is Scripture. I have chosen to use other “texts”: music, nature, blogs, poetry and sacred readings. Do I attend them with holy listening? Am I open to what they say? I am formed and informed through the listening. I often do not remember details, but rather have an overall sense of what I have taken in. I have breathed the experience (the text) in and let it permeate my being.

I hear the voice of arrogance once again in my head. “You think you are so special.” Yikes! Hold lightly. Do not grasp. Be grateful. Thankful to be able to breathe in and out. It is a great paradox. Letting go so the words may come. Losing my life so I may find it. Letting go to receive. Stop moving so I can just be.

Do you have these battles of the mind? Does your ego strive to overcome your stillness? Where do you find yourself grasping? Where do you need to let go or show gratitude? What does your 'holy reading' look like?

collage by lucy

mama bear

This mom is crabby crabby crabby. A stark contrast to the peaceful stillness of only a few days ago. Surrounded by incompetence and teenage angst…not being able to decide whose is whose. The term “mama bear” keeps roiling around in her brain along with the gesture of throwing her arm across the passenger seat to protect her child in the event of a sudden stop. What is it about mother’s that sends their right arm flying into open position when they think their child is in danger? Do British mum’s fling open their left?


Still she ponders and wonders why the anger has arisen so sharply in the last week. Is it that she is surrounded by grownups battling their own demons and attempting to throw their anger into her lap? At work, they sit and smile, but she feels their seething undercurrent even while they say everything is “o.k.” At school, her youngest battles for autonomy while coming up against the man/boys they call role models. It is enough to make a parent’s blood boil. For sure it makes a mama bear growl!

Still she wonders if she is coddling or letting go too soon. The balance is a tough one. The teen has her own immature hijinx, but here she is called to be the “adult” as she plays the game of high school politics. Yuk! Mama bear wants to step in and give the offenders a big swat of her paw, but settles for a little art making and mental health break instead.

A trip to the masseuse ends with the recommendation of “Take it easy and watch movies all day” ☺. Advice heeded, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly continues the melancholy mood as she finds herself feeling stuck in her own diving bell. Mama bear is ready to hibernate. Like I said, this mom is crabby crabby crabby!

visual journal page by lucy 10.03.08

Off to the Races

Fall has always been more a time of new beginning for me than January 1. Maybe it is because so much of my life has revolved around the school year—first my own, then my children’s & now my own again as I return to my work at a graduate school. Today I woke up early with my mind racing and so much to consider. I really hate that feeling. I have schedules to make. Meetings to attend. Will yoga class help or squeeze my time too much today? Should I get up or have a little more needed rest? But my mind races.

I have a new schedule. Two groups of students to meet with individually (17 in all—double what I have done in the past). My birthday is this week. What shall I do for that? I have two workshops in the next two weeks. There are two soccer teams to put on my calendar. The high school calendar arrived yesterday with more dates to fill. My husband is confirming his “away” dates. My daughter has a complicated schedule that I often need to be involved in. I still miss my dog.

Time seems to be filling up. Precious time. Precious space that I cherish. And I cherish the moments that I spend doing the things I love. Being with friends. Being with family. Being with students. All good stuff, you know? I am someone who cherishes solitude AND I am energized by my work. I consider myself a balanced person. I find myself irritated with people who say, “I don’t have time for…solitude, writing, play, you fill in the blank.” And here I sit with my heart pounding and my mind racing because my list is so full.

And then I have to smile, because God is so great. I opened up my morning devotional and today’s title was “Too Full”. Hmmm. Sounds like I’m not alone ☺. And that really irritates me, because today I don’t want to be the cliché. I don’t want to be like everybody else. I don’t want to be ‘too full’ of stuff! I want my nice little serene existence. Ha!

This definitely feels like a season. It all comes back to me now. It is the beginning of the school year with checks to write and calendars to coordinate. It is a new beginning and I love new beginnings. So, for now I think I will breathe deeply, make a list of things that must be done. Attempt to enjoy this season rather than just get through it. I am grateful. I am grateful for so much and even if I find just 10 minutes for solitude today, it will be enough. I will be enough. Amen.

This is why I love writing…I have just talked myself down from the ledge and remembered all of those little spaces of quiet and serenity I have reserved for myself (even if they only exist in my mind). I have remembered to be grateful. I have found a little place to stop the ‘racing.’ Now if I can just keep my mind from firing the starter gun again! ☺

keep it simple

Have you ever noticed how sometimes it is the “simple” things that can express what we ourselves may not be able to put into words? The basics…like scissors, paper and glue; the laugh of a child; the warmth of the sun; the breeze through your hair; the words of a friend. Simple.

I can feel the essence of what is going on for me right now. I even thought the words might form a little better today and I guess maybe they have. So, here goes: Keep it Simple. That is what I hear and that is what I share. Simple, right? ☺

What are the "simple" things that help you see or express yourself when words will not form?

"wish for what you believe" by lucy 5.15.08

growing pains...mine or hers?

How do you protect someone who is spreading her wings? When is it time for the mother bird to push her baby from the nest? What happens when the baby jumps before the mother is ready? Are they lost to each other forever? Does the mother try to push the baby back into the nest or does she come alongside her young and help them learn to fly?

The natural world is brutal. So is the human world. Can I live with myself if I do not protect her? Can I even protect her? Nothing is in my control especially this bright, spirited young woman. “You have raised an amazing daughter,” she said to me. “You gave birth to a great person.” She is so right, so when will I trust her? When does she stand up and walk on her own two feet? She was so cautious as a baby; waiting until she was sure she could walk. Watching to see that no one knocked her over. Is she still so cautious? She has learned to walk and now she says she is ready to fly. Will I smother her inside the nest to keep her safe? Or will I let her leap, knowing that she may fall? Lord, help me.