Out (to Lunch?)

I will be away from computer land until April 1. I invite you to take this opportunity and cruise around my blog...maybe check out some of my favorite videos or other blogger links (found in the sidebar)...or read some past posts you might have missed.

Let me know what you think. I love to know that the "gang" is stopping by and maybe missing me a little too :-)

Let it Blossom

“How can you follow the course of your life if you do not let it flow?” Lao-Tzu


Everywhere I look, Spring is bursting forth with life and new birth. Blossoms, babies, puppies and green grass. And, the question, “What is blossoming in me?” keeps showing up. It feels like the rest of my life is waiting to blossom, but the “live in the moment” side of me says, “Wait, don’t get ahead of yourself. What about today?” Nevertheless, I am at a bit of a crossroads. Decisions need to be made surrounding my career path and I desperately want to follow what is my calling. Fortunately, the two are closely interwoven.

How will I step out? How will I bring me, first, to myself, and then, how will I bring myself to the world? For there is only one Me. Lovely, kind, and free. Fiercely tender. Funny. Smart. Quick and contemplative. Bold and shy. A paradoxical being. I am a woman ready to spring forth into blossoms—maybe one at a time or maybe a whole bed of crocus bursting at once.

There is a vitality, a life-force, an energy,
a quickening that is translated
through you into action.

And because there is only one of you
in all of time this expression is unique.
and if you block it, it will never exist through any other
medium and be lost.

The world will not have it.
It is not your business to determine how good it is
nor how it compares with other expressions.

It is your business to
keep it yours clearly and directly,
to keep the channel open;
whether you choose to take an art class,
keep a journal, record your dreams,
dance your story or live each day from
your own creative source.
Above, all else, keep the channel open.

--Martha Graham

Spring Haiku

"Blossom"

tight bud of pink plum
holding firm to branches bare
how will you unfold?




"Spring"

bursting blossoms come
with blankets of lush green lawn
spring ushers in life

What Time of Day am I?

Okay. I really like this "I AM SUNRISE"...as opposed to last week's "what kind of puppy are you?" which defined me as a chihuahua!!! Somehow the image of a chihuahua at sunrise doesn't work for me. What time of day are you?

You Are Sunrise

You enjoy living a slow, fulfilling life. You enjoy living every moment, no matter how ordinary. You are a person of reflection and meditation. You start and end every day by looking inward. Caring and giving, you enjoy making people happy. You're often cooking for friends or buying them gifts. All in all, you know how to love life for what it is - not for how it should be.

What Time Of Day Are You?

Blossoming Compassion

Yesterday morning I wrote of Compassion and ripples and water and cleansing. Then I went to my last session of Awakening the Creative Spirit. There we were posed with the question, "What is blossoming within you?" The first thing I thought was "nothing" and then I remembered the words: 'compassion for myself.' Neither felt like something I wanted to share with this group of blossoming women.

Our task was to select a photo of a blossom from the table in front of us. A very pale Iris petal (neither my favorite flower nor color hue) chose me. These are the words I read from the back.

Spring and all its flowers,
now joyously break their vow of silence.
It is time for celebration, not for lying low;
You too - weed out those roots of sadness
from your heart.

The Sabaa wind arrives;
and in deep resonance, the flower
passionately rips open its garments,
thrusting itself from itself.

The Way of Truth, learn from the clarity of
water,
Learn freedom from the spreading grass.

Pay close attention to the artistry of the
Sabaa wind,
that wafts in pollen from afar,
And ripples the beautiful tresses
of the fields of hyacinth flowers.

--Hafiz

Need I say more?

Compassion

“When the wind stops, the trees still move, the way my heart creaks long after it bends.” --Mark Nepo

Compassion is a word that has been entering my vocabulary and thoughts on multiple levels these days. How do we find it and give it (not just to others, but) to ourselves? Our feelings are like the ripples of the wind. The effect of the emotion lasts long after the event stops whether we realize it or not.

Tess’ “Unguarded Thoughts” highlighted this as she speaks of thoughts that pop out when we don’t even understand from where they may be coming. I wonder if they are the ripple of events gone by. So, again the question: how do we flow with the ripple and find compassion for ourselves?

My dreams lately have been filled with water. Water covering the streets. Water overflowing from the shower. Water surrounding land as if it is an island. The thought I have been pondering is how we quickly want our emotions to be washed away. If we stop to feel them at all, we hurriedly move on to the next thing as we let the emotion slip down the drain. (We don’t take time to be joyous or feel pain deeply.) It is here that I have the image of our emotions running into the sewer and becoming part of the muck and mire—festering and turning into a stinky, rancid mess—waiting to be dredged up. Yuck!

What if rather than pushing the emotions down the drain, we put the stopper in the sink and the covers over the manholes? What if we allowed ourselves to be washed with emotion thus being cleansed at the same time? What if we chose to dance in the rain rather than put up our umbrellas? What if we “experienced” rather than “stuffed?” The water could then take its natural course to the sea rather than man’s forced journey through the darkness of tunnels.

So today I say, let the water flood the streets. Let the shower spray everywhere. There are plenty of towels to soak up the excess. Have compassion for Me. My dreams are telling me to sink into the emotion and feel it, so then it can follow its natural course. I can be washed clean. God of the heavens and earth, the Creator of the trees and the wind, the lover of my heart is with me. Compassion abounds if only I will choose to sprinkle a little on myself.

photo by Mary Jane Hughlett circa 1962

Leap of Faith

The earth is indeed lovely, I realized.

And so I decided to take a leap of faith. Life is, after all, a series of leaps of faith. Falling in love and believing that I will grow old with my husband is a leap. Losing a parent and believing that I will recover is a leap. Giving birth to children and letting go as they grow, hoping they will lead safe, happy lives is a leap. Living in a world of chaos, believing good will prevail over evil, is a leap.

Maybe I could hold God's hand as I leaped. --Priscilla Warner of "The Faith Club"

Remembrance toward Freedom

Why is it such a challenge to be the people we are created to be? It is my belief that we each innately hold the knowledge and truth of who we are deep inside our hearts. It is always there whispering to us what we know to be true. Often, however, the whisper needs prompting to move the truth out of storage and toward remembrance and life.

We are well aware when the truth shows up. It is the moment our heart sings with recognition—a smell, a sight, a voice. You know you are home. You know you are safe. There is intimacy in memory. It sustains us and nurtures us here and now so we can remain rooted in the midst of this crazy life. It is memory of Christ. Memory of home—the truth of our very being. The knowing that we are whole and pure.

We spend so much time wallowing in the mud and muck of life. The truth, however, remains rooted inside us like an everlasting friend whose voice is always a welcome sound. It is a song for your heart beckoning you to remember who you are. To walk daily in freedom, we must remember our past stories of both tragedy and redemption, we must dream of future hopes, and we must choose to love God, our neighbors and ourselves in the present moment.

We are anchored in Christ—through humanity—through the magnificence of the universe. There is a great knowing of something that we can’t quite seem to remember yet know is ancient, everlasting and true. This knowing holds me above the waves of life, buoyant as a bird in flight, cradled in the embrace of a friend.

It is my desire to remember the anchors of my life. The smells, the tastes, the sounds and sights that draw each of us toward becoming the people we are created to be. It is through remembrance that we can walk in freedom.

photo by bill hughlett

Yield to Simplicity

Ponderings of today. Simplicity is the word that is speaking to me during this season of Lent. I believe simplicity draws us closer to God. Simplicity and humility. Not pomp and circumstance. God is not interested in a popularity contest. He does not need everyone to acknowledge Him--to cheer him on. Jesus did things in obscurity and subtlely--often striving to remove himself from the crowds and seeking quiet time with God.

The world seems to think that in order to be successful, everything must be bigger and better. Giant churches. Huge projects. Best-selling books. The list goes on. What is big enough? What would it look like to reach people simply--one by one--heart by heart? Quietly and subtlely coming alongside and joining fellow sojourners as they come to know God and themselves in big, quiet ways.

I think I'll close here with this poem found at Milton's site.

I Feel Sorry for Jesus

People won’t leave him alone.
I know He said, wherever two or more
are gathered in my name . . .
but I’ll bet some days He regrets it.

Cozily they tell you what He wants
and doesn’t want
as if they just got an e-mail.
Remember “Telephone,” that pass-it-on game

where the message changed dramatically
by the time it rounded the circle?
Well.
People blame terrible pieties on Jesus.

They want to be his special pet.
Jesus deserves better.
I think He’s been exhausted
for a very long time.

He went into the desert, friends.
He didn’t go into the pomp.
He didn’t go into
the golden chandeliers

and say, "the truth tastes better here."
See? I’m talking like I know.
It’s dangerous talking for Jesus.
You get carried away almost immediately.

I stood in the spot where He was born.
I closed my eyes where He died and didn’t die.
Every twist of the Via Dolorosa
was written on my skin.

And that makes me feel like being silent
for Him, you know? A secret pouch
of listening. You won’t hear me
mention this again.

-- Naomi Shihab Nye

photo by bill hughlett

God's Ways

Count yourselves blessed every time people put you down or throw you out or speak lies about you to discredit Me. What it means is that the truth is too close for comfort and they are uncomfortable. You can be glad when that happens—give a cheer, even!—for though they don't like it, I do! And all heaven applauds.
Matthew 5:11-12 from "The Message"

I wrote a word of Peace.
The reader said, "Too pat."

I spoke a word of Rest.
The hearer said, "No way."

I read a word of Grace.
My heart said, "I believe."

God's ways are not our ways. They are hard to believe with a "rational" mind. They are impossible to hear with a worldly ear. They are indisputable when received in the heart.

Grief--Emotion or Stalker??

The grief is up already. It is an early riser, waiting with its gummy arms wrapped around my neck, its hot, sour breath in my ear. Now it follows me down the hall to the bathroom, tapping my shoulder the whole way.
Try to pick up your toothbrush, it says.

--Lolly Winston

Presence

Be present to others and yourself.
In that way you honor Me.


photo by bill hughlett

Blessed Comfort

"Blessed are they that mourn for they shall be comforted." Matthew 5:4

Grace. In her book, Gift from the Sea, Anne Morrow Lindbergh speaks of being aware of times in our lives when we seem to be "in grace" and other periods when we feel "out of grace." "In the first condition, one seems to carry all one's tasks before one lightly, as if borne along on a great tide; and in the opposite state one can hardly tie a shoe-string."

Today I tied my shoe-strings a little easier with the help of those who surround me: God, friends and family, both near and far. These words greeted me in my morning reading: "the mourners are called blessed not because mourning is good, but because they shall be comforted." By sharing my grief and sorrow, I have allowed those around me to bring me comfort. It has come in the form of blog messages, phone calls and inspired readings. It has come from me, too, as I have allowed myself to be still and listen to my own rhythm for a few days.

Grace. How often we believe we must give grace to everyone except ourselves. Thank you for the grace and comfort you show me. How will you show yourself grace today...tomorrow?

Finally, I would like to share a poem sent to me by my friend across the ocean, Tess.

Poor human race that must
Feed on pain, or choose another dish
And hunger worse.

There is also a cup of pain, for
You to drink all up, or,
Setting it aside for a sweeter drink,
Thirst evermore.

I am thy friend. I wish
You to sup full of the dish
I give you and the drink,
And so to fatness come more than you think
In health of opened heart, and know peace.

Grief spake these words to me in a dream. I thought
He spoke no more than grace allowed
And no less than truth.

by Stevie Smith

Breathing is Hard Today

Breathing is hard today. For several days I have been plagued with a horrible cold and have not felt my usual self. I wish I could breathe deeply, but I cannot. Longing for breath consumes my days. I went out for air and sunshine and a milkshake yesterday. The milkshake machine was broken. I drove to the beach but could not make myself pull over and park. I stopped for a Diet Coke and bought Cracker Jacks when I really wanted Crunch n Munch. Desires that seem so simple and inconsequential become heaps of angst. “The ground is always littered with our longings.”

I am grieving and I don’t even realize it. My friend Dawn has died. She is younger than I. My son feels abandoned and I cannot rescue him. My health feels crummy. My house needs cleaning. My daughter is 14. My world feels numb and since writing my Lenten prayer, I’m not sure I have given myself fully to anyone. “The ground is always littered with our longings.”

Longing for connection. Longing for wholeness. Searching too hard. Can I just be? Just rest and be me? What am I doing? Searching. Looking. Asking. Seeking. Flat dull spaces block my path. And then I hear my own words, “Let us not move too quickly to the Good News and thus dismiss our pain and sorrow.” Can I sit in the sorrow for a while? Will I allow myself to be present for myself? For my losses?

Death and dying. New birth. New life. Breath seems so important. My mind is muddled. The rhythm of life speaks to me. The pendulum. The ground littered with our longings. The question is how to remain faithful to all the necessary deaths while leaving room for resurrection. The only way to get through grief is to grieve. The only way to take in fresh air is to breathe. Breathing is hard today.

"I write to discover what I know." Flannery O'Connor (& me)

photo by bill hughlett

Lucy--An Other's Perspective

I am feeling a bit playful this morning (even though still in bed with a really crummy cold) and felt like lightening things up a bit as heavier thoughts have been the topic for the last few days. So I have decided to share the insights of other people in my life (still being about me, of course, since this is my blog.) Here are some diamonds from others and a few glimpses of Lucy from another perspective.

This photo was sent to me by my sailing friends of the Georgia J.



I received this poem earlier in the week from my friend, Molly. I am honored and humbled to see myself through this woman's eyes.

Lucy is deep and vast like a river
That flows to the ocean – a blessing, a giver
It takes all her heart, you can see in her eyes
To integrate, not compartmentalize
This woman is brave, she will bare heart and soul
So that we can learn to be healthy and whole
And it’s her struggle too, and we love her so much
She walks beside us, companion, not crutch
In her willing exposure of laughter and pain
We see that this journey will not be in vain
Encouraged by Lucy, we’ll walk near or far
To enjoy the gift of God’s shining star.


And, finally a quiz result about my "intelligence." I found the link at my friend, Antony's blog. You should be able to click on the link below and take your own quiz.

Your Dominant Intelligence is Linguistic Intelligence

You are excellent with words and language. You explain yourself well. An elegant speaker, you can converse well with anyone on the fly. You are also good at remembering information and convincing someone of your point of view. A master of creative phrasing and unique words, you enjoy expanding your vocabulary. You would make a fantastic poet, journalist, writer, teacher, lawyer, politician, or translator.

What Kind of Intelligence Do You Have?

Cheers to you! I'm off to make some Chicken Soup.

Doubt and the Bible

Today while reading Tess' post on scripture, I was reminded of my own struggling with the Bible and how to personally reconcile what I believe to be God-inspired and the inerrent truth and that which is potentially the product of man's interpretation.

It was in graduate school that I was first introduced to the concept of hermeneutics. Much discussion was made of our personal hermeneutic and what we bring to the text as well as historical considerations, context, etc. In my religious upbringing I always considered that others had studied this before me and they, therefore, knew the "right" interpretation of what I was reading. There was little room for doubt or opinions that differed from the "correct" interpretation.

I remember in graduate school, however, becoming more brave and writing a paper on one of the gospel stories while really listening to my heart and bringing my own interpretation to the text. The grader was a bit taken aback with his more traditional view as I had stepped out of the box. He actually commented that I seemed to value my own opinion over that of the Gospel writer. While i certainly did not profess my interpretation to be the "right" one, I do believe it could be considered at least a possibility--particularly for me in that moment. Who's to say that one man (or woman's) interpretation is more correct than another's?

Today after reading Tess' post, I listened to a podcast with historian Jennifer Michael Hecht on her book, "Doubt: A History." She had some great comments on how doubt has actually shaped much of the great religions. I particularly like this quote from social reformer Elizabeth Cady Stanton:

"When I first heard from the lips of Lucretia Mott that I had the same right to think for myself that Luther, Calvin and John Knox had, and the same right to be guided by my own convictions and would no doubt live a higher, happier life than if guided by theirs, I felt at once a newborn sense of dignity and freedom. It was like suddenly coming into the rays of the noonday sun after wandering with a rushlight in the caves of the earth."

This quote gave me hope that it is okay to question the Bible while still holding it at the center and core of my spiritual beliefs. I believe God does want us to live with a sense of "dignity and freedom" rather than oppression and fear. Questions of doubt are often extremely hard to discuss with Christian friends because there seems to be so much fear around questioning and doubting that every bit of the Bible is not "literal." Is it possible that God inspires us (you and me) today just as he inspired the Old Testament prophets and the New Testament writers? What if the Bible is fluid and not stagnant? Can it be the ultimate Truth without being rigid and unforgiving?

It's a bit scary to throw these questions out there, but they seem so important to me right now. Maybe it's the season of Lent and further reflection. Who knows, but I hope you will join me in the conversation.

"Somerset Cross" photo by bill hughlett

For Dawn

“How shall there be redemption and resurrection unless there has been great sorrow? And isn’t struggle and rising the real work of our lives?" --Mary Oliver

Ever since I wrote my Lenten Prayer, I have been acutely aware of the pain and sorrow existing so close to my own heart. Nothing highlights this more than the news I received today that my beautiful friend, Dawn, died this morning at 7:45 a.m.

How do you pay tribute to one who touched so many people so deeply? Less than an hour before she died I prayed a prayer of release for her. Did I play a part in her death as I believe I did in her life? I don’t know, but if somehow I helped ease her pain, then I am grateful. She fought a long hard battle with cancer and she was ready to let go. It is we who are left behind that now have the long road ahead of us.

If you are a praying person, please keep her family in your prayers. While I believe she is whole and pure and complete again, her family (including a loving husband and four amazing teenagers) is now heartbroken. I pray God’s peace and comfort over them in the days, months and years to come. I will miss my friend deeply.

Let us not move too quickly to the Good News and thus dismiss our pain and sorrow.
Let us grieve—holding the sweet moments of memory and raging for a life released that we do not want to concede.

"Faith" photo by bill hughlett

Heart Lament

Sacred One, I cry out to you. How much pain must I bear?
Heart outside my body.
Walking. Tripping. Falling. Weeping.
Will it cease to beat?
Where is resurrection? Resuscitation?

My heart bleeds. Slowing to a stop.
Where, oh where, is life?
Pain and sorrow.
Breaking. Wrenching.
Existing is too hard.

How will joy sustain? Gentle flame flickers in winds of despair.
I ache. I yearn, oh Lord, for your comfort—your gentle breath upon my face.
Breathe life into me, I pray.
My heart is breaking wide and I am falling in.
Take my hand, oh Lord. Keep me from despair.

Shine your light that I may glow—
Ever so gently—ever so dimly—waiting.
Waiting for my heart to calm—the wound to heal—a scar remains.
Wounds of your hands. Wounds of my heart.

Where are you, oh Lord? I need your help this day.
Heart inside my body.
Quiet. Still. Resting. Beating.
I feel your breath upon my face—the sigh of my heart.
Here is resurrection. Resuscitation.

My Lenten Prayer

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



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

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

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

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

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

Boys and Bears

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

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

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

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

On the Road Again

Heading off to Lubbock, Texas early tomorrow morning to do the work I love to do. This week I will be helping facilitate a workshop for young men/teens. Check it out at here.

During the coming days I hope you will:

dance as though no one is watching you.

love as though you have never been hurt before.

sing as though no one can hear you.

live as though heaven is on earth. --Souza

That's what I will be doing!

Art

"What I like about art is the very thing that makes people fear it. It enlarges us. I am a better and more honest woman for having taken to the page today and admitted my locked-away feelings of the years. I am larger and better and softer and kinder and more open than I was resisting knowing what I knew. It is always this way with art. We say the unsayable and in saying it we name not only ourselves but also the human condition. By being willing to characterize our lives in art, we begin to have the character necessary to make living itself an art. We rise to the occasion that life offers us." --Julia Cameron, The Sound of Paper

These words brought tears to my eyes this morning as I felt their trueness. May you find a way to express art in living today.

painting by Claude Monet

Dance or Die

“Rejoice with those who rejoice, and weep with those who weep.” Romans 12:15

And dance like there is no tomorrow.

What are we to make of this life we are offered? Daily we are faced with choice. Get up or stay in bed? Smile at the sunshine or decide it is too bright and close the blinds? Are the birds singing a joyful song or is it noise that hinders my sleep? Each minute is a choice. Will I choose to rejoice with gratitude for all I have or will I weep from pity at what I think I deserve and do not possess?

Choice. It faces us every minute of every day and often we are pushed to our very limits. The point where it feels like we can take no more. The edge of life where a choice must be made. Dance or die.

“Death pushed me to the edge. Nowhere to back off. And to the shame of my fears, I danced with abandon in his face. I never danced as free. And Death backed off, the way dark backs off a sudden burst of flame. Now there’s nothing left, but to keep dancing. It is the way I would have chosen had I been born three times as brave.” --Mark Nepo

There is room in life for both rejoicing and weeping, but not for dancing and death. Today there is a choice to be made. Dance or die. What will it be?

photo by bill hughlett

Hearts Aching with Joy

“We are ignored even though we are well known. We live close to death, but we are still alive. We have been beaten, but we have not been killed. Our hearts ache, but we always have joy. We are poor, but we give spiritual riches to others. We own nothing, and yet we have everything.” II Corinthians 6:9-10.

To breathe in ALL that God offers is to live an embodied life. This morning, I was drawn to the above verses written in my journal at a time that felt more like the whirl of a hurricane than a peaceful spring morning. These days I continue to be drawn to the wonder of the simple things like breath and waiting. I live in awe of this quiet existence. I am doing work I love. People I care about (both far and near) surround me with their love. I feel healthy and strong. My heart is filled with gratitude for this life and at times I wonder if I should feel a little guilty for being so happy.

In God’s graciousness, however, I am reminded of the times (present and past) when my heart has ached and broken. Somehow, there is rest in remembering the suffering. There is release in realizing that through God’s grace and compassion, I can find calm in the midst of the storm and know it is o.k. to have joy.

Lord, today may I breathe in ALL that you offer me, knowing that heartache and joy are both who I am.

“All spiritual warriors have a broken heart—alas, must have a broken heart—because it is only through the break that the wonder and mysteries of life can enter us.” Mark Nepo

award-winning photo by bill hughlett

My Perfect Valentine

It's absolutely wonderful to be married to a man who "gets" me! This is the quote that came on my perfect Valentine card:

Then a great peace came over me...
and I seemed to hear the pines and the wind
and the rocky shores say to me, "You...lover of the wild, are part of us..."
---by Sigurd F. Olson

I love you, Wheatboy!

Dancing in the Water of Life

"January 25, 1964. I am aware of the need for constant self-revision and growth, leaving behind the renunciations of yesterday and yet in continuity with all my yesterdays. For to cling to the past is to lose one’s continuity with the past, since this means clinging to what is no longer there.

My ideas are always changing, always moving around one center, and I am always seeing that center from somewhere else.

Hence, I will always be accused of inconsistency. But I will no longer be there to hear the accusation." ~Thomas Merton, Dancing in the Water of Life, p. 67
--from antony

I love this quote. It reminds me so much of where I live my life both personally and in the therapeutic world of counseling. It is possible and often necessary to take a look at the past to see from where we have come, but I appreciate Merton's words of the futility of "clinging to what is no longer there." To cling is to be stuck with no forward movement. Change is evidence of growth and maturity, and there is also a playfulness and freedom in Merton's words: "But I will no longer be there to hear the accusation." Beautiful.

Inconsistency or change? It is my belief that with each new day and encounter, we are called to change, to grow, to dance in the water of life.

Forever changed.
We are forever changed by each other.
Bumbling, blessing, crying, laughing,
raging, pushing away and holding together.
We mark each other with indelible ink
and move a little closer to glory,
as we taste the Gospel together.

Thank you, friends, for being a part of my dance and my "inconsistency."

photo by bill hughlett

Waiting for Ruwach

I had a lightbulb moment today and found a new connection for the three words (waiting, breath & spirit) from my previous post. It occurred to me that while I have been pondering a new way of breath, God has been waiting for me to make the connection. I wonder how often that happens? I usually think that I am waiting for God, but today it feels a bit more mutual.

Something I had temporarily forgotten is that Breath and Spirit are both translations of the Hebrew word Ruwach (also translated as wind). In my "moment," I had the sense that I am being called to a new way to consider the Holy Spirit. I'm not exactly sure what it means but it feels really good and very freeing. It feels like new breath, a sweet wind blowing and the spirit of my heart lifting high. It feels whole, connected and embodied.

In my Awakening the Creative Spirit class a couple of weeks ago, I kept saying how whole and full I felt and the word "embodied" seemed very important. I did a word search and landed on this definition of embody--to provide a spirit with a physical form. This names the fullness I feel.

My dolphin studies also say when dolphin shows up it is time to breathe some new life into yourself. And, then today I ran across the tradition that the early Christians viewed dolphin as a symbol of salvation. Breath. Spirit. New life. Salvation. Coincidence or new possibilites to consider? How will I choose to view Spirit--inside a box or wide open in the world?

(A little aside here--there was a dolphin prominently featured in the Seattle Times this week AND my friends in Mexico called to tell me some wonderful dolphin stories...so my dolphin totem continues to inspire.)

One final thought (for now) is that almost three years ago, I received what I believe was an amazing prophecy and these words have been stirring within me recently:

Feel the wind. The wind blows hard. The wind is blowing our family in a new direction. Guide the sails through Me.

A new way to breathe-- To experience the wind-- To feel the Spirit?

The Simplicity of Paradox

How do simple words contain such complex meaning? My last two posts (unplanned, by the way) have been entirely about the paradox of simplicity. A twenty-five word post reveals both the simplicity and complexity involved in actually living out the “simple” words. In another post, an “ordinary” day moves into the extraordinary. Simple? Yes. And, there is absolutely nothing simple at all about it. Paradox. Small things becoming larger than life. Ground, cold and barren, suddenly sprouting new life. Sun shining brighter than normal.

This is a simple post about the complexity that is percolating in my mind. Words of waiting, new breath and spirit permeate my waking and sleeping hours. I have thoughts and ideas about what they are telling me and just when I begin to write, another image appears and the idea morphs into a new one. So, for now, I will wait.

Will you consider waiting with me? I’d love to know what images these "simple" words (waiting, breath, spirit) stir in you.

Attitude is Everything

Be kinder than necessary,
for everyone you meet is fighting some kind of battle.

Live simply,


Love generously,

Care deeply,

Speak kindly, and

Leave the rest to God.

--author unknown

Simple words are powerful words.

Beauty in the (not so) Small Things

“Beauty is the physical manifestation of the Mystery—God, Spirit, the Divine—that surrounds and beckons to us every day of our lives.” --The Invitation by Oriah

I lead an ordinary, extraordinary life. Yesterday was an amazing reminder to me. The sun seemed to shine a little brighter. The morning found me snuggled in bed—reading, writing, and listening to music. It was heavenly. Then I ventured out to work. The air was crisp and clear, springtime starting to tease. I had the privilege of sharing a young woman’s story and being with her in her struggles. There was something so good about knowing she had not been alone for an hour and neither had I. The Divine was present.

The day led me to a local outdoor mall where I made a return rather than purchasing something new. It felt good! I stood in the sunshine for a little while and pondered the possibilities of the time before my next appointment. Ultimately, I decided on coffee and a bagel at Starbucks. My bagel was fresh, my coffee was hot and the banter of baristas and customers was light. It was heavenly. And, the day got even better. I ran into a friend I had not seen in years. We stood in the fresh air, catching up and sharing stories.

All day long life brought me delight. I laughed out loud when I saw a sign for the “Dolphin Apartments”—a sign I had driven by 100 times but only noticed yesterday. I had tea with a friend and her soulful, rescued dog, Petunia who taught me much about relaxation and enjoying the moment. I saw Mount Rainier rimmed in pink clouds. I heard my daughter laugh. I knew my son was safe. I sparred and joked with my husband. I spoke to counselors and social workers. I corresponded with friends and read provocative blogs. I could go on and on about the “ordinary,” but you see, those things do not feel ordinary to me. They are beautiful and extraordinary--“physical manifestations of the Mystery.”

Blessings to you this day. My prayer is that you (and I) will see and experience the beauty of God in all that comes our way. Peace.

Budding Spring

what is awakening as we move into spring?
there is something about the depths of our souls, the bare bones of our branches, the seed that lies deep within the ground...waiting to sprout.
the beauty emerges with each slight movement...and while, we certainly do not want to rush spring, there is hope in the new buds that wait to blossom.

Lucy and Shabbat

art by sulamith wulfing

St. Lucy greeted me this morning as only she can—with surprise, delight and light. Today she brings discovery of the light of Shabbat. (The Hebrew word that is the basis for Sabbath and sabbatical.) Not being Jewish myself, I was delighted to discover it is a woman's mitzvah to light the Shabbat candles. In other words, it is a woman's privilege to bring "good" into the world through light. I love this! I, as a woman, can bring light into the world as no other can.

There is something very holy, sacred and sensuous as I think of candles and light, springtime and growth. With spring, the days are getting lighter; the ground is awakening and making space for new life to push forward to the surface. There is newness in the air. The soul is awakening from the darkness of winter.

Images of water (often associated with creation and passion) and patterns of new breath and rhythm continue to appear in both my dreams and waking hours. My journey for now seems to include the questions: Where is God calling me as I approach this new spring? How will I breathe new life and spread my light in the days to come? How will my creativity and passion express themselves? All exciting possibilities to consider. What new candles are you being called to light?

Hurricane

Current life events led me to turn to last February’s journal. I am both sobered and hopeful at where the seasons of life continue to lead.

New soil. Springtime ready to grow, but there is nothing in the current ground of my heart. It is empty. What little green sprouts will choose to grow there—weeds or beautiful wild flowers? It feels so desolate right now. A hurricane has come through and decimated the land. There is trash and death all along the shore. The birds and wildlife have not returned. Desolation on the beach—the same beautiful, glorious beach that held sparkling diamonds only moments before.

When will life return? What will the resurrection look like? Even those small words feel hopeful for now. I know I cannot rush springtime. Growth and restoration take time and great care. Who will care for me in this time of grieving?
--February 27, 2006

Shimmer (Dance of the Dolphins III)

Shimmering water beckons woman to a new dance.
Sister of Eve heeds the call.
Whole and embodied, her spirit is home.
Dormant no more below earth’s surface, passion ignites.
Breath’s rhythm shifts.
Born of joy-tilled ground and watered with tears of sorrow,
Golden light embraces her womanly body. And thus,
She,too, shimmers. She glows. She dances.

Kindness

The road to freedom and kindness is long and hard, but it is well worth the journey!



photo by bill hughlett

Kindness

by Naomi Shihab Nye,
Words Under the Words

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
It is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend.

Dance of the Dolphins - Part II

"dancing dolphins"

One of the most delightful aspects of dolphins is their call to playfulness and dance. Both aspects are a part of life too easily forgotten amidst busyness and productivity. As I remember laughing with the dolphins weaving across the bow of Georgia J and wonder where I am being called today, the following poem speaks loudly of my dreams.

The God who only knows four words

Every child has known God,
Not the God of names,
Not the God of don'ts,
Not the God who ever does Anything weird,
But the God who knows only 4 words.
And keeps repeating them, saying,
"Come dance with Me, come dance."
--Rafiz

I am that child, and with the dolphins as my reminder, I dance.

Dance of the Dolphins - Part I

Dolphins are pursuing me. Though I live on dry land in Seattle, I realized yesterday that for the last month dolphins have been pursuing me. They traveled along our sailboat seemingly in our first moments at sea and often throughout the trip. They have danced with me in my dreams and words throughout the month. Yesterday, they showed up fully in written form: First, through the story penned by a writing group friend, and next in a blog I visit occasionally. The power of their presence is palpable.

I am curious about this presence and felt the need to start this conversation. Since I am heading out the door this morning, this entry is only introduction and a reminder of dolphins. In one of yesterday’s readings, dolphins were referred to as “the carriers of messages of our progress.” I am excited to explore this thought. Other themes in the dolphin readings were breath, life, playfulness, sexuality and spiritual practice. Lots to ponder!

While the traditional part of me thinks this may sound a little whacky, my whole essence speaks strongly of connection to God through nature and creation. I am excited for the possibility of what God and the dolphins may be saying to me. I would love to hear your thoughts as I ponder this dance of the dolphins.

Then God said, “Let the waters teem with swarms of living creatures, and let birds fly above the earth in the open expanse of the heavens.” And God saw that it was good. Genesis 1:20-21

fyi--that is my leg in the photo--proof of the dolphins pursuit!

Does Anyone Read My Blog??

Are you out there? Are you here now? I would love to know. While I truly do write for myself (my tag line is, afterall, "I write to discover what I know."), it is affirming and inspiring to know you are here with me. Many of my friends give little hints that they have visited and say "keep writing," but being someone who loves the printed word, I would be honored if you would take a moment and click on that little comment box at the bottom of this entry (or any entry) and simply say "I was here." You can do it anonymously or be brave and give your name. Either way, it will bring a little joy to my day as I hope Lucy can bring to yours.

Home

"Home is where the heart is and thus a movable feast." --author unknown

art by Muriel Taylor, La Cruz

January almost gone. The first month of the new year. It was an amazing month. In some ways it seems like it has flown by but in many ways it has filled a lifetime. I was only in Seattle, my home, for a few days, yet I felt more "home" than ever. Home to me speaks of being connected to myself--connected to my soul. Home is where Lucy lives. Lucy of the light.

I experienced lightness and freedom among friends. Beautiful times of communion and fellowship with my family. I witnessed miracles and life with women I recently met, yet believe I have known for a lifetime. Beginnings of life. Endings of death. Ice breaking and floes starting to move. Coyotes howling. Dolphins dancing. Freedom.

These are the memories and miracles I must hold onto as the busyness of life tries to squeeze in and a new day begins. My friend, Gibran, speaks to me again:

"For that which is boundless in you abides in the mansion in the sky, whose door is the morning mist, and whose windows are the songs and silences of night."

Heroes Are Born

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


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

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

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

On Friends

And let your best be for your friend.
If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.
For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?
Seek him always with hours to live.
For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness.
And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.
For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

--Kahlil Gibran "The Prophet"

For a closer glimpse into the hours lived among friends on the Georgia J, visit the Captain's post.

Re-Entry

The Joy that isn’t shared, I’ve heard, dies young.
-Anne Sexton, The Awful Rowing Toward God


The ebb and flow of life.
Expansion and contraction.
Opening up and closing in.
Warming of heart and chilling of soul.
Hanging on and letting go.
Sunshine and snow.
Laughter and tears.
Contradiction and clarity.
Finding so much joy that it cannot be expressed.
Bursting with life and burying treasures.


Re-entry is a hard thing. To go from sunshine and blue seas to grayness and snow in only a matter of hours is a hard transition. In the past few days I have found myself ebbing and flowing as I re-enter my Seattle life. One moment I swell with joy and gratitude over the life giving time away, and the next, I am filled with sadness because I am stuck in traffic on a rain soaked highway.

How shall I incorporate my new fullness into today’s life? I am reminded of the tiny hermit crab I watched on the rocky beach at Isla Isabella. She painstakingly worked to carry her new found home from one place to the next. It was hard going, but she labored well. It seems to me that this will be my task, too—to take the joy (the home) so easily found in paradise and pull it across a sometimes rocky (or snowy) path so that heaven resides wherever I am.

I will start with the small, like the tiny crab, and see what blossoms in the days to come.

Still

Oh winter, you are here, but my heart still plays in the sun.
His rays have kissed me deeply & now warm my soul as the frost nips at my nose.

Coming Home

Georgia J--my home away from home

I am home. I am humbled and in awe for words cannot describe the past two weeks spent with God, with friends, with the holiness of laughter and the splendor of nature. The time was simple and magnificent--the air, the sea, the sky. Birds, whales, crabs and dolphins--from the immense to the miniscule--the beautiful and the awful. God's magnificent pallet. I chose to breathe it in and soak it up. My heart flushed with desire and amazement. The sun kissing my body and leaving me to feel like a wonderful, endearing child. Whispers of love from the world surrounding me. Moonlight on a dark ocean. Sun bursting forth in new day. Songs and dancing. Hard work and moonlit showers. Kisses of summer warmth and blossoms of spring in the midst of winter. It is a gift for which I am eternally grateful. A life of simplicity. T-shirts and shorts. Clean scrubbed face protected with sunscreen. Simple food tasting like an elaborate banquet. Conversations and laughter. Dancing and dreaming. God feeling near. Each day a prayer answered.

dancing blue crab
blue-beaked, red-footed friend

Gone Sailing

The Drop and the Sea

I went looking for Him
And lost myself;
The drop merged with the Sea --
Who can find it now?

Looking and looking for Him
I lost myself;
The Sea merged with the drop --
Who can find it now?

by Kabir

I am off to explore the Sea and the drop while I join dear friends for a sailing excursion from Mazatlan to Puerto Vallarta. I will be back with new photos, ponderings and possibilities around mid-January. Happy New Year!

photo by bill hughlett