Book Review: Heaven by Lisa Miller

"As Emily Dickinson said, heaven is what we cannot reach. But it is worth a human life to try." -- Lisa Miller

In her recent book, Heaven, author Lisa Miller, takes on the challenging task of bringing new light to a topic that has been pondered throughout eternity and for which there ultimately is no conclusive proof. It is a subject rooted across religions and everyone from agnostic to fundamentalist has an opinion. In her author's note, Miller states, "While I do not aim to be inclusive, I did try to write a book that's broad and balanced enough to give every interested reader something to chew on." In that she has succeeded.

The book is filled with interesting historical facts, modern theatrical interpretations as well as literary excerpts about how our images of heaven have developed. Miller's skill as a journalist shines through with her thorough research and anecdotal interviews. My favorite passages were those in which she interviewed "real" people who were both passionate and certain about their beliefs, as well as others who answered her question "do you believe in heaven" by not answering it at all.

One rapt interview matched Miller, a skeptical Jewish woman married to a baptized Catholic turned nonbeliever, against Anne Graham Lotz the daughter of the late evangelist Billy Graham. Miller describes Lotz as warm, likable, and direct in her belief that every born-again Christian will ascend to heaven as part of the choice based in accepting Jesus Christ as personal Savior. At the end of the segment (after being witnessed to by Lotz), Miller reveals a transparent vulnerability as she writes, "Lotz's certainty made me squeamish... I know she's wrong, I thought. But what if she's right?" As with universal discussions on God, Heaven tickles the curious notion of how we can take comfort in (or be squeamish about) something we cannot unequivocally know.

Along with the interviews, Miller weaves data and research as she broaches broad topics of resurrection, salvation, visionaries and the boringness of heaven. She does a beautiful job writing a book about religion that anyone - moderates, fundamentalists, nonbelievers and people of all faiths - can read without offense. In many ways, Heaven is a brief history of the major religions with a focus around a topic everyone has pondered from time to time. Parts of Heaven resonated deeply with me while others had me skimming over pages that at times felt repetitive. Nonetheless, Miller has taken a daunting topic and distilled it into 250 pages which are well worth reading for anyone fascinated with the after life.

Does she provide answers? Are there any really? Have you witnessed heaven yourself? Think about it. From where do your thoughts and opinions on this topic arise? A glimpse into Miller's Heaven offers much food for thought on a timeless topic.

This review is part of the TLC book review tour for Harper-Collins at their request.

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?

Shedding My Should's - or - the Albatross and the Lizard

Recently I’ve been intrigued by a friend’s interaction with her purse. Yes, her purse. She has referred to it as an albatross around her neck and has been in the process of cleaning out this “heavy” bag. As a curious companion, I couldn't resist posing these questions to her:

Why wouldn't you eliminate something that is heavy and helps bring on migraines (impairs your health)?

How would it feel to go about your business unencumbered?

Why do you keep schlepping it around?

What do you gain by holding onto this heavy "albatross"?

Since my curiosity often peaks when something inside me is stirring, it was no surprise that today's Abbey of the Arts Lenten reflection prompted me to look in the mirror and ask myself basically the same questions I had just offered my friend.

What do I schlep around that encumbers my journey? What can I relinquish today?

Answer: I want to shed my should’s. They are my “albatross” and feel oh so very heavy. Through journaling and self-reflection, I ended up exploring today’s should which sounds something like: I should take care of myself. Is this true? Absolutely! Taking care of ourselves is a great thing to which I’m wholeheartedly dedicated. So what's the problem? Regarding my personal response to self-care, I’ve discovered an interesting space where I balance precariously between finding true rest and moving into a restless or paralyzing, non-productive state. This seems a direct result of the resistance I feel when I hear the word SHOULD.

My tricky lizard (the part of our brains that thrives on fear) somehow can convince me that doing something "restful", like watching two or three episodes of Brothers & Sisters (instead of reading or sleeping) will leave me refreshed. By staying up late, however, I end up exhausted and with nothing to show for it. On the other hand, I resist a push-push-push mentality and the “should” factor of always being "productive". Nonetheless, I know I’m much happier when I’ve done some writing, cleaned a closet, gone for a walk or intentionally snuggled with Aslan. My sneaky lizard, however, can pull me away from the things I love in the name of self-care and what I should (or should not) be doing. Oh, tricky tricky lizard!

When I play with the statement: I should take care of myself, it feels heavy like an obligation (or an albatross). Should’s are extremely weighty!! Should’s take away the gift and joy of simply doing and being. When I entertain the place of should (e.g. I should be taking care of others; should be working; should be eating cardboard diet food instead of delicious chocolate), I get caught up in fear (lizard brain) which for me ultimately leads to resentment. I begin to lose my presence and joy with others, resist my work, and punish my body for holding me hostage.

I know that shedding the should’s leads to greater joy and balance in life. It’s something I experience on a regular basis. Now, if I can just convince that sneaky lizard to leave me alone perhaps I can enjoy this present moment. Perchance the albatross and lizard should make a play date? Hmmmm.

Today, I want to relinquish my should’s. Care to join me? I’d love to hear what should’s keep you feeling heavy and encumbered. What albatross is hanging around your neck? What is your lizard whispering in your ear?

© port orchard heron; aslan doing what he does best

Happy to be an Outcast

(Abba Nilus) said, “Happy is the monk who thinks he is the outcast of all.” (Nilus 8)

“Both the inner monk and inner artist are border-dwellers. Neither fit neatly into mainstream society as they both call us to new ways of being and seeing. The monk calls the world to spaciousness and presence rather than rushing and productivity. The monk takes the hard and demanding path of inner work and growth when the world constantly offers possible ways to numb us from these struggles.” - Christine Valters Paintner

Living on the edges while fully participating in life is a paradoxical way of being. For some reason I am reminded of the movie “Field of Dreams” where the principle character, Ray, played by Kevin Costner received the message, “If you build it, they will come.” This prompted Ray to step out of the normal paradigm of life into something that appeared crazy to the world around him. His rewards were more magnificent than anything he could have dreamed.

My life has turned into a field of dreams. It happens by living on the edges moment by moment. Stopping to smell the roses. Being in awe of the fresh green sprouts pushing through the earth. Cherry blossoms burst into full bloom and take my breath away. My world continues to expand as I follow my heart’s desire.

Living life as an “outcast” is exhilarating (while also holding moments of isolation). At a time when my peers are extolling the woes of aging, I’m in the best overall health of my life. My passport acquired in 2003 is annually adding new countries – sometimes as a woman traveling alone (gasp). I started graduate school at 47. Skydived at 49. I’ve been known to break into fits of uncontrollable laughter for no apparent reason or run through a public fountain in the midst of gleeful children. I am more in touch with God/Spirit/Life than ever before even though I “left the church” years ago. My children are quite “nontraditional” and still I’m a very proud mama.

The top comes down in my convertible if the temperature breaks 45F and it’s a particularly sunny winter day. I say 'No' at times when others expect me to say 'Yes'. A pink tutu topped my Christmas list last year. Crows call me Magic. Friends call me Crazy. I call myself Brilliant. (Audacious, huh?)

My cat, Aslan, can occupy my attention for hours by purring in my lap or doing circus tricks with my spouse. Bella, my desert ship, always makes me smile even though she snarled at me during her break. (I might have done the same thing.) My world is driven by Spirit. Refining and expanding lead my way, because even though what I have in this moment is Enough, I know abundance is my friend and thoughts of scarcity keep me limited.

I offer gratitude for my trials and rejoice in new opportunities to learn. I rage & scream & bellow at injustice, and then I let it go. I don’t “play nice” anymore. Nice kept me locked up like a prisoner for too many years. I am kind and I am free. Sanity is boring. Kookiness means loving life as it is. If this is living on the edges – it rocks!!!

Where do you long to break free and live on the edges? Invite your inner monk and artist to guide you toward the border. Perhaps you're already there. Woohoo! Let's play!!

Bella © 2010

Get Your Shine On!

"See how far the little candle throws its beams! So shines a good deed in a naughty world." -- William Shakespeare

Western philosophy has taught that suffering is a normal state of life on earth. Enjoyment is something reserved for children, retirees or hedonists. If we're super busy then we are important. If we work limitless hours and don't have an extra moment then we're successful. If we feel really good about ourselves then we must be slacking off in another area. Striving toward perfection is a noble goal, but one that must be minimized with humility and false modesty.

Bottom Line? This line of thinking is flawed and in my humble opinion, a bunch of hooey. I am a sincere believer that we are all created perfectly and joy is our natural state of well-being. Over the course of life our perfection gets marred with expectations of what others think and then our own minds take over and we become mired in a world of "I could never" or "If only." We get stuck in mediocrity and our brilliance loses its shine.

What if our mission in life became to return to our original perfection? What if we were called to peel off the layers of expectation and ultimately gleam in all our glory and return to a childlike state of joy? I invite you to take a moment and play with the following statements: First allow yourself to ingest this... I am a worthless person who doesn't deserve anything. Notice how that proclamation sits in your body. Now, try this one on: I am a glorious creation designed to bring beauty and light to the world. Can you feel the difference?

Wouldn't life be more enjoyable and fulfilling if you lived as a glorious creation rather than a worthless nobody? The key is to trust your felt experience. Seriously, it's OK. If a thought causes you suffering then it isn't true. (This doesn't refer to tangible pain from physical injury or grief over actual loss.) Suffering is that suffocating, deadening, hopelessness that keeps you stuck in circumstances. It is not to be confused with the wild, sometimes raw and exhilarating excitement that comes from letting your inner self shine and living into the person you were created to be.

Think about it. What will you choose? Mediocrity or brilliance?

Ready to move toward brilliance? diamonds in the soul invites you to Get Your Shine On today.

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?

Robin's Song

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

© robin's song 3.29.11

Fierce Warrior

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Just Be(e)

"Of all that God has shown me
I can speak just the smallest word,
Not more than a honey bee
Takes on his foot
From an overspilling jar."

—Mechtild of Magdeburg


"bee hind" ©h3images

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

Lenten Pilgrimage

Somehow the season of Lent allows me to sink more deeply into listening, waiting and letting go. Delightful themes and synchronistic opportunities have presented themselves abundantly and the journey has barely begun. As I mentioned in my last post, I had the beautiful opportunity of physically going on pilgrimage to the desert last fall. In conjunction with that trip, my fabulous guide invited me to write a short article for an upcoming website. It was indeed a delight when Christine @ Abbey of the Arts then invited the Lenten pilgrims to answer this question:

How have great pilgrimages and journeys brought you to a new insight about your daily life?

Today, I am pleased to share the words I had already penned for my Sapira friend.

Pilgrimage calls us to find that which is essential. We learn through preparation and packing for the journey. Along the way, we explore what nourishes us through feast of eyes, body and soul. Necessity changes shape as normal routines drift away. Paring down and moving toward simplicity, a sense timelessness envelops those who dare to step into the unknown.

Having participated in three intentional journeys (two of them with Sapira), I have come to know more of myself, and the world as a whole, through these travels. To fully enter a pilgrimage is to take off your shoes and stand on Holy ground. My toes have curled in the chilling loam of Ireland and danced across the swirling sands of the Sinai. My heart has opened by stepping into the gentle rhythms of the pilgrim’s clock. Pilgrimage is like walking an ancient labyrinth – each step intentional with no straight pathway – moving toward center and then returning back into the world with heart and soul forever changed.

My blessings envelop each of you who stops by this place. My hope is you will move more deeply toward your own center during this Lenten season and return back into the world with your heart and soul forever changed.

Peace.

Desert Blooms

In October of 2010, I had the amazing privilege of journeying to the Sinai of Egypt. During this season of Lent, I am being called to return to the desert - this time in my thoughts and prayer life. There is a barrenness in the desert landscape that is in sharp contrast to the life I experience at home in the Pacific Northwest. We are surrounded by buckets of rain and lush foliage bursting with color. It can be a challenging shift between the landscapes and I am grateful to have the wisdom of the desert fathers and mothers to guide me. This morning as I pondered Christine's words of blossoming and desolation, I couldn't help but remember my camel ride through the Sinai.

My perfect mentor showed up in the form of a majestic and sultry camel named Bella. She would be my wisdom guide for that day, and she lingers with me now as I rest over 6,000 miles around the globe. Bella was truly a desert queen and knew exactly how to find blossoms in the desert. She bloomed by following her own rhythm, and in these things we have much in common. Oh my, I love that camel. We started our day with a Bedouin boy holding the ropes. Slowly slowly we built trust until ultimately I received the reins. Nonetheless it was Bella who led.

This glorious creature had an uncanny way of spotting the smallest shade of green hundreds of feet ahead. She would subtly pull away from the crowd and with precision-like focus make her way to the nourishing Acacia bush. After dining, Bella and I would take our time wandering and pondering through the dry land. At times we moved slowly and walked along the edges of our tribe. Sometimes the pace was brisk and we bumped up alongside other pilgrims. When spying the blossoms before us, we pulled away from the herd to reach our destination.

As I remember Bella and write these words, it becomes clear this will be my Lenten journey - a season woven with times of rest, nourishment and activity. I must make time for my own rhythm and meditate in my cell as I surrender to the voices of Sabbath. Community will be important, for there I am called to laugh and love. The discipline of the practice offers me restoration and rejuvenation.

Like Bella and I in the desert, we don't have a map and cannot be certain what lies ahead. There is barrenness and desolation along the way, and nourishment blossoms in the most unexpected places. Welcome to the desert. I am grateful to be here. How about you?

Quiet Voice of Wisdom

The season of Lent begins today with Ash Wednesday. Words like surrender, sabbath, and begin again greet me with the journey. Step by step I inquire where I'm going. Today happens to be a day with a bit more spaciousness surrounding me. While I have lots to do, I don't have any "official" meetings scheduled so I am able to slow down and listen more deeply. For some reason a great scene from the book Eat, Pray, Love keeps coming to my mind. (btw - the scene is in the movie, but doesn't do the book justice) In the passage, Elizabeth Gilbert has her first intentional meeting with God. As she waits for wisdom in a time of crisis, she hears the simple words, "Go back to bed, Liz." This scene is so profound for me, because that is how I often experience the still small voice of wisdom.

Today's quiet has offered direction moment by moment: read this, write that, shower now, rest, fix dinner, sit, rest, and so on. When asked a question offered by Abbey of the Arts, these words arose:

What is the grace I am seeking this Holy season?

Surrender to the voices of Sabbath.
Let the timelessness was over you.
Trust. Laugh. Love more.
Rest and restore.

What is your still small voice inviting today? What grace are you seeking this season?

Drafty Window - Part 2

"Someone touched me; I know that power has gone out from me." - Luke 8:46

In my last post, I wrote about my drafty window and today the conversation continues. As I ponder the warm air seeping out my window, I'm reminded of Jesus' story when he felt his power leave him as the woman in need of healing touched his garment. He said, "Someone has touched me." Is this how I feel as I'm aware of others' pain? Does compassionate power flow out to meet others' needs? Do I offer it willingly or is it sucked out unknowingly? Is warm air drawn out with the draft or does cold air come pouring through the window? How does another's hurt blow through the crack in my heart?

Compassionate hearts are at risk of being drained of their own life. Sacrificial giving can end in death. So, today I ponder the balance between offering myself in service of others and protecting my warmth and health enough to have something left to give. It's like the leaky window. Do I want to plug the cracks so the cold can't get in? If I do, does this mean my warmth will no longer flow out?

Drafty Window

"Other people's pain is the wind on our house(s)." -- Betsy Pearson

The favorite room in my home is my studio and office. It is painted a brilliant color that brightens my day every time I see it. The walls are adorned with art and artifacts I've intentionally collected and each piece holds significant meaning. My studio is a place I can get messy, play and also work very hard. It's a place of comfort and rest, so it's ironic that it also encompasses one of my least favorite things - a drafty window.

Pondering this window with a friend, it came to represent a powerful metaphor in my life. The window has its special qualities which make it hard to replace. It folds gently in the middle thus allowing fresh air to pour in during the warm months while also buffering the wind which can be too chilly in this Northwest climate. There is a certain amount of protection and control from the climate. In the winter, however, the North wind blows stridently and seeps through the broken seals. Even as I wrap myself in cozy quilts, the air is chilled and impacts my warm heart. It's like the whole world is coming in through the cracks and there isn't enough heat to warm us all. It is the blessing and curse of having a heart broken wide open. There is a crack in everything that's how the pain gets in. Sometimes there is enough warmth and compassion. Other times the draft chills me to the bone.

• Step outside and feel the air on your skin
• Imagine each breath of air contains someone's pain and another's joy
• Breathe deeply and experience the connection with the whole world
• With your out-breath, send a warm blanket of love, joy and compassion into the Universe

More Anne Lamott...

"Asking for something is risky: I might be refused. But if I don't even ask, I'll never hear "yes." - Karen Casey

If you're one of the three people I know who hasn't heard me talk about my meeting with Anne Lamott, then this post is for you. My wild story began with placing Lamott's image on a vision board - here - which was followed up by an experience of actually meeting her in person - here.

This post is about the power of setting an intention and asking for what we really want. Last week I submitted my article to Spiritual Directors International re: the time with Anne Lamott. When I heard back from the editor, she said she loved the piece and would like to use it in their May publication. May seemed like such a long way off and my essential self said, "I want more... now"!! So... I asked. Long story short - they printed the article yesterday on their blogsite and will run it again in their May publication. I am thrilled and so proud of myself for having the courage to ask for what I desired. Remember - if you don't ask, you can't receive YES!!

Where does your heart long for more? Is it possible all you need to do is ask?

I hope you'll click on over to the SDI site and read my post there. Please say, YES.

comfy couch by lucy

Clear Your Windshield

Under ideal circumstances, my morning meditation leads to setting an intention for the day. A few days ago the words "clean and clear" popped into my mind. As I pondered their meaning, I recalled the previous morning when I arrived at my car only to find a hard frost covering the windshield. Being in a hurry to get to yoga, I was frustrated and didn't have time to properly scrape the windows. (Rushing and frustrated to yoga?!?!? I know. I know...) Using my Seattle Art Museum membership card as a not-very-effective tool, I managed to clear just enough space to peek out the windshield. It was still dark outside and the space was narrow, so I was on high alert as my body crouched tightly the entire way to class. Anxiety was my companion, because I didn't know when a bike, car or pedestrian might cross my dimly lit path. It was quite uncomfortable yet I pressed on because I was in a rush. I managed to arrive at my destination without incident, but the way certainly wasn't very "clean and clear."

Isn't this just like life? When we're not clean and clear with ourselves (i.e. when we ignore our feelings or circumstances), we jump or startle when something comes out of the dark and/or live life curled up inside ourselves. How much better would it be to have a clear windshield and less obstructed vision? Doesn't clean and clear sound more satisfying than crouched and constricted? The obstacles don't necessarily go away, but with clean space we have increased opportunity to see clearly.

Where does your windshield need a little more clearing? Want some help getting clean with your personal intentions? I'd love to lend a hand (or an ear). Check this out...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Do you believe in magic?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Celebrate St. Brigid

Today is the feast day of St. Brigid of Kildare. I can feel her flame burning in my heart and the warmth of my dear friend’s embrace as we stand on the holy ground of Brigid’s well. St. Brigid of fire and water, you are a kindred spirit kindling the flame. My flame of passion and fire burn strong. A passion for life and living it to the fullest - not just watching the days go by, but truly embracing them.

Certainly there are times when my flame simmers rather than blazes. A time of tending in the night as when the Celtic women put their fire to rest – minding the fire so it could and would be rekindled at the break of day. How do I tend my fire? Today with an early rising – allowing time and space. (A fire needs space to breathe, or it suffocates when the wood is packed too closely.) A hot shower and steaming coffee warm me inside and out. The lamp’s glow illuminates my surroundings. And in my heart, I hold warm memories of standing at Kildare with the spirit of dear St. Brigid.

“May the blessing of light be on you, light without and light within. May the blessed sunlight shine upon you and warm your heart till it glows like a great peat fire, so that the stranger may come and warm himself/herself at it, and also a friend. And may the light shine out of the eyes of you, like a candle set in the windows of a house, bidding the wanderer to come in out of the storm.” --Irish Blessing

Peace be with you on this feast day of St. Brigid of Kildare. May the fire in your own heart be illumined and warmed today and always.

© St. Brigid - 2009

A is of Annealing & Alchemy

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

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

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

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

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

Original Medicine

Refining and expanding seems to be a full time endeavor as I begin 2011. It's fantastic, exciting and has kept me away from these pages too long. I miss my blog peeps! I really do. AND - oh my, there's lots going on in Camp Lucy.

One of the foremost ideas on my mind these days is something called "original medicine." Gail Larsen shares this in her book, Transformational Speaking:

"...we are all "original medicine," born to this earth with gifts and talents that are ours and ours alone. If we do not bring those gifts and talents forward, they are lost to the world for all time."

Powerful stuff, huh? Within days of hearing about original medicine, I found myself working with this quote from Martha Graham:

"...because there is only one of you in all time, (your) expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it."

These messages speak loudly to me and remind me that I have something to offer the world - even when my inner critic says, "Who do you think YOU are?" No one is me nor thinks exactly like I or has experienced what I have in the same ways. My goal/role is to find what wants to be birthed into the world - by me. If I keep my expression close to my heart, no one else has the chance see it, feel it or experience it. It's not my job to make others believe anything. It is my desire to share as authentically as I can, warts and all. This is integral to the process of refining and expanding.

If I live in a way that is transparent, authentic and open (TAO), others may begin to see that they, too, have permission to do the same. I lived for most of my life believing that everyone else had "it" figured out better than I. But, no one can figure out me better than I. No one else knows what makes my heart soar or my pulse quicken. Only I know what is best for me.

I'm not sure how much original medicine exists in this post, but my hope and prayer is that something sparks within you (as I ramble on reminding myself of my own spark.) And, if you need permission to share your original medicine... I, lucy of the light, take great pleasure and honor in granting it to you. Now, quick, go be you!!! Namaste.

© lucy & bella - sinai, 2010

Fruit or Veggie?

Words - fruits - veggies... I wonder how else I will be defined this year...

How about you? If you could describe your essential self as a fruit or vegetable, what would it be and why?

Everyone is a teacher

Reminder to self – Everyone is a teacher.

As a group facilitator, I often have the privilege of being taught by my students. During a day of reconnecting to creativity through restoration and rejuvenation, I invited participants to select an image to introduce themselves. The images were as varied as the people around our circle, but my teacher of the day presented in the form of a sprite of a woman, weighing no more than 90 pounds fully clothed and soaking wet. Well into her 80's with hair of spun silver, she wore a bright scarlet dress accessorized with a huge medical collar strapped around her neck.

With twinkling eyes, she held in her hand, a photo of a rugged snow-capped mountain with soaring peaks. Out of her mouth came the words, "I am one who explores the trails." Incongruous as it might seem for this frail woman to make such an unflinching statement, no one who witnessed this scene doubted her. In fact, I could actually envision her roaming that mighty mountain as she shared deeply from her heart, her memory, and even her future. With her words, her stature grew and she became the towering mountain. I could see all dreams come true - hers, mine, and the world's. It was a glorious moment.

To live fully is to believe in dreams, unflinching truth and living our heart's desire. Today’s teacher demonstrated all of those wrapped in a petite package of wisdom. May we each learn from her example.

Consider today:

· What is your heart's desire?

· What trails do you hope to travel this year?

· What would it mean to speak the truth out of your deepest desires?

Announcing... My Word(s) for the Year

My words for the year have been colluding and whispering to me for weeks now. First I thought it was one and then the other, until finally I realized they were a pair that begs to work in tandem in the coming months. This morning I finally sat down and let them dominate my morning pages, so it seemed like as good a time as any to announce them here. Tada!!! Announcing....

Refine & Expand

What does it mean to refine and expand? To refine feels like letting go, not necessarily of big things although some will feel big. I love flexibility - movement - fluidity and "Water" (last year's word) emphasized both fluidity and flexibility. I also really like structure coupled with freedom of movement. I want to refine the structure of how I do things. Not necessarily the bold "Fire" way of two years ago, but softer - wiser - more delicate refinement. Like working on the tiny details of a painting, not with massive burst strokes across a giant canvas, but intricate adjustments like the light in an eye or the pollen of a bloom. Details. Refinement.

As I refine, there will naturally be expansion. "Dream Big" continues to show up and I know my life is meant to be Big. (Isn't yours?) I've experienced BIG hurts along the way, and in return - not as payback or to be fair - I've also experienced tremendous joy and contentment. When you let go of (refine) your hurts, the swing of the pendulum automatically makes room (expands) for great joy. Big risks offer Big paybacks. My skydiving experience was a HUGE fear that turned into a hallmark experience of undeniable, impossible to explain exhilaration and joy - with a side benefit of new-found bravery!

I don't know exactly what the expansion will look like and I'm ok with that. I'm starting a new training course next week and it's going to be extensive and expansive. I'll be expanding my tribe, my knowledge, my world view and a few more things I can't name right now.

Refining and expanding will include clearing and cleaning out the clutter in my life. I refuse to live small and hidden. In the past, I have dug into the depths to unbury myself in some pretty BIG ways. In 2011, I plan to continue to dig, but with a teaspoon rather than a backhoe - that's refinement. One small step. One spoonful at a time. That's where I believe I'll find the treasures this year. It's like an archeological dig. It's easy to find the giant sarcophagi, but painstaking to seek out the tiny carved buttons. Refine & Expand - there you have it!

If you've chosen a word for the year, I'd love to have you share it here. If you haven't considered what yours might be I invite you to sit quietly and see what finds you. Carrying a word for the year can be a truly magical and "expansive" experience. I hope you'll join me!!

Be like water flowing...

Water. My word for the year. I began 2010 by taking solo winter walks along the shore not so far from my house. As the year draws to a close, I find myself nestled into a friend's seaside cabin with my beloved husband. Water has greeted me with her fluid mystery and manifested in ways I could never have imagined. My winter vacation included a lesson in surfing and a mesmerizing experience with a sea turtle. Who would have thought that my annual trip to Bermuda (an island surrounded by Caribbean sea) would be traded in for a journey to the Sinai desert - especially in the year of water? I've learned throughout the year to "go with the flow" and as 2010 sails to a close, having rushed by like a flash flood, I find myself grateful for the seas I have traveled this year.

A favorite story crossed my path a few days ago. It is the tale of a man who has the choice between a map and a boat to accompany him on his journey. Choosing the boat, the grand master offers these words - "You are the boat. Life is the sea." Wherever we find our center (our boat), we have the ability to go with the flow, weather the storms and enjoy the immensity of life. My boat has carried me well this year. I've patched it when necessary and provided a new coat of paint or two to spiff things up - always remembering it's very important to care for my vessel! New journeys are on the horizon for 2011 and I look forward to cracking the champagne across the bow as we embark for the new year.

My word(s) for 2011 have already bobbed to the surface. However, today as I watch the mighty wind push the waves across the Sound, water deserves its honor. Stay tuned for the 2011 word announcement!! My prayer, for now, is to continue to be like water flowing and see what fills my cup in the days and weeks to come.

Bullies in Disguise

Layers and layers of discovery. I move. I rest. I pause. The layers shift and morph. Refining my way toward freedom. Awhile back I had a memory arise and while I’m not sure it’s an actual event, I don’t know why I would have made it up – unless, of course, I needed it to help me with something else.

The scene is pretty precise. I’m 6 years old and in the first grade. I’m in the narrow cloak closet at school and we’ve just come in from recess. I can smell the damp coats and feel someone behind me pressing my face into them. It’s another child, I’m certain. I can’t breathe. A vise-like grip deepens on the sides of my throat – pudgy fingers, I think. My fear tightens as a knee or elbow presses into my spine, stuffing my face further into the darkness of the fabric. The bully tells me to “Stay quiet, or else.” My nostrils fill with the acrid smell of wet wool. I want to scream, but my mouth is buried and the words won’t come. Suddenly, there’s a flurry of activity and the grip releases, the pressure comes out of my back. I’m alone and disheveled in the closet. No real harm, right?

The metaphor to my life is immense. The internal struggles over voice, aloneness and importance are core. They are battles I’ve been peeling the layers off for years. They move and shift and morph. Recently, I’ve had a grown-up bully attempting to put the vise-like grip on my authentic self. (S)he came disguised as someone who wanted my help (which is very seductive for a caregiver.) How long would I allow the knee to press into my back and stifle the scream rising in my chest? It wasn’t until I invited this person to leave that clarity came and I felt the relief of speaking up for what I wanted and needed. The pressure released and I was not alone.

This week in my Advent retreat, we are pondering what it means to say, “Yes.” What is the risk? Will you say yes to your longings? For a moment just ponder the danger of continually saying, “No” to your heart’s desire.

Risk

What does it mean to ask for what I want?

I asked and I received.

Writing. Reading. Creating.

Say Yes!

I asked and I received.

Don’t limit.

Say Yes!

The shadow is the bully.

Don’t limit

My writing, reading, creating.

The shadow is the bully.

What does it mean to ask for what I want?

My Advent Prayer

Allow me to see the face of this day
Let me enter into each space with intention
Crossing the Holy thresholds
Touching the Ancient stones

Let me enter into each space with intention
Do not allow me to cloud my own vision
Touching the Ancient stones
I will be the face of this day

Do not allow me to cloud my own vision
Crossing the Holy thresholds
I will be the face of this day
Allow me to see the precious face of this day

© Kayce Stevens Hughlett

A Winding Journey

As I read today's Advent reflection from Birthing the Holy including a poem by Linda Hogan*, I was reminded of a SoulCollage® card I created awhile back. Pulling it out, I began to write and noticed the weavings of this season begin to take shape and offer me this message:

I am one who stands at the threshold.
The cave of death surrounds me - death to past.
The Ancient bones beckon me and tell me to follow my dreams. I am in good company.
If I will raise my eyes to the heavens, I will see the light ahead.

It has been a winding journey - and will continue to be,
but the Ancients are with me and the river is flowing -
"It doesn't look back to where it's been or wonder who ahead of it has polished the rough stones.
It is following the path in its fullness"*
And it's time for me to do the same.

Don't look back.
Raise your eyes and see the expanse before you.
The Ancients are with you. God is with you.
Lift your eyes to the heavens -
to new life.

Anyone There?

Themes of birth, awakening and mothers float through my mind. Vivid dreams invade my night and wake me like a whisper from my sleep. I roll over, turn off the alarm and sink into that space where dreamland meets dawn. The space between past, present and future cannot be delineated and my earliest memory drifts into now. I am older than one and younger than two. Standing in my crib with an earnest look on my face, I am not crying or distressed. I appear to be reaching, perhaps not with my arms, but only with my eyes. Anyone there? My eyes stretch into the room beyond the recesses of my barred bed and beckon, Anyone there?

Isn't that the question I still ask today? In times of lament, I turn to the ancient lie I tell myself. I am not important. I will always be alone. Was no one there? Sharing my 10 year old brother's room, I wonder if he resented my presence from the beginning. I recall the black eye my mother received when she bumped the door jamb during a nightly visit to me. Would she return again?

So odd, these memories. So very interesting. Anyone there is what I continue to ask today. Will you read my work? Hold my hand? Laugh at my jokes? Kiss my lips? Notice my hair? Anyone there? Are you paying attention? Do you see me? Is it possible I still carry the look of a one year old standing in her crib - reaching and searching for connection. Anyone there?

What are the questions you ask yourself or the lies you whisper when past & present merge?

photo - Paris