How much does a number weigh?

“How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?” Leroy (Satchel) Page

What’s in a number? In my "former" life I was an accountant surrounded by numbers day and night. Combine a conservative Christian, basically fundamental background with a profession where everything balances neatly and you don't have much room to consider the unknown. Interesting, huh? Now the "new me" finds myself living in a more mysterious, less objective, certainly not as concrete existence with LOTs of space allowed.... and still I find numbers can carry their own weight.

As I mentioned here, I’ve been working with a life coach whose specialty is weight issues. Professionally speaking, however, I must remind myself that the presenting issue is rarely the real issue. Participating via supportive group sessions and online discussions, I quickly found myself feeling fabulous, fit and lighter in every sense of the word. So, one day while at the gym, I decided it was time to step on the scales - fully expecting the number to reflect this supremely satisfied me. As I pushed the little weight counter over to the balance point, I was horrified (and deeply disappointed) to find there was NO movement since the last time I weighed several weeks before. (Gasp!!) What’s a girl to do? Let a piece of metal take away my mellow? I almost let the scales win, but quickly realized I much prefer feeling light & easy rather than heavy-laden with the makings of my own mind. Thanks to the great support of other fabulous women, I rallied and didn’t let myself go into a tail spin. But, oh my, the power of that silly number!!

Now while I could expound for hours on the subject of weight and body image, I wanted to relay another experience with numbers I had today. Per my last post, I spent the majority of two full days in my closets – sorting, pitching, and recycling those things that no longer serve me well. If I don’t love it or have an immediate functional use for it, out the door it went. I saved my personal closet for last as I had cleaned it only a couple of months ago, but this time I was ruthless. I dug into corners that haven’t been seen in MANY years. I found jewelry, I’d forgotten I lost. I tried on pants and skirts that have become too large for my slimmer self. I vacuumed and dusted nooks and crannies – organized necklaces and scarves and earrings – pitching anything without a mate and forgetting my previous motto, ‘Well it might turn up... (or) I might need this...’

In this heroic effort, I saved the cream of the crop to take to the resale shop down in the village. Included in the two bursting bags were jewelry pieces, strappy sandals, a practically new leather coat and a variety of well-made clothes I hate to think how much their original cost. Dressed in a sassy skirt having just come from work, I loaded up the bags and went to make my fortune in resale. I patiently waited as the young twenty-something clerk plucked through my things, making what I thought were two piles and feeling assured the larger pile was definitely the ‘keeper’. She finally finished and with a perky smile and polished tone announced, “We’ve decided to keep three pieces today, so the cash available to you is $9.45.” $9.45?!?!?!? Are you kidding me? I spent two days cleaning and sorting, saved my best stuff for you and all that’s worth $9.45? These last words, of course, spoken only in my mind.

Numbers. What’s a girl to do? Throw a fit? Cry? Devalue the super light feeling I felt after clearing away all that clutter? Tempting, but No Way!! A little convertible time, some good music and a trip to the charity center to drop off my very valuable donations is helping lift the power of this particular number ☺. Oh my, I do continue to learn so much about myself. I noticed that I wanted to drive immediately to the bakery or the smoothie store and sooth my wounded little pride. My inner whiner was sulking big time! “Waaahhh. They didn’t want our stuff.”
“Thanks, kid.” I gently consoled. “But I'm not buying into the whining this time. Numbers are just numbers… and we get to decide the weight we want to give them.”

So, that’s my current numbers game. Things don't always add up so neatly and the mystery continues. I wonder how much a heavy attitude weighs? Next up in the potentially impacting numbers category? My birthday. Hmmm…. How old would I be if I didn’t know how old I am?

Door #1, #2 and #3

“All truth is one rarefied yet earthly room, but our awareness often is outside. We need to open a particular door and go through its conditioning chamber, gradually preparing ourselves to be able to see and respond in the subtle, awesome, caressing light of that spacious room.” -- Tilden Edwards

As anyone who’s followed this blog for awhile knows, I’ve been stalked by crows, danced with dolphins and stepped into more than a few foreign lands. Today, I’m here to write about mysterious doors - doors (& gates) that have been intensifying their pursuit of me over the last week.

Sunday while preparing for the Eucharist at Camp Cross women’s retreat, I glanced in the chair I had randomly chosen and picked up a blank mandala left there. Curious, I turned over the page and read this mandala is called “Gates of Death”. It speaks of the stages of my own journey and offered these words:

“You may feel compelled to turn your back on your accomplishments, to forgo security, or to let go of the way things have been, and step through a gateway to a mysterious unknown. This commences a journey downward, into the depths of yourself.”

Oh my... when I read those words I began to laugh as my upcoming pilgrimage to the Sinai Desert came to mind. I showed them to my sis sitting to my left and we giggled like little girls who’d been let in on a wonderful secret. Just in case we’d forgotten there’s a mysterious power greater than all of us… the message came through loud and clear! I will call that Door #1.

Door #2 became boldly apparent yesterday afternoon during a group phone call with my life coach when I volunteered to assist with an exercise. I was called upon to describe the room in my house with which I’m least satisfied. For some “kooky” reason, I chose the closet in my office. As I described its contents – a mess of other people’s stuff I can’t get rid of – some good things I can’t get to – a little window that lets light in, but I can’t access it because the door’s usually closed – Tonya patiently repeated my words, took some notes and then posed the question, “What area of your life might this room represent?” I get chills even now and the words again infuse all the way through my body. “My writing,” I announced without hesitation. Again, Oh My!!

Tonya’s charge to me? Not to start writing, but to physically clean out that closet and see what happens next. Whew... that's what I call a step of faith. So, I have a date with my husband for this afternoon and we’re going to turn on some nice music, roll up our sleeves, maybe even dance a little as we clean behind Door #2.

You know there had to be at least one more. Door #3 peaked in on me yesterday, but I didn’t realize it until this morning. I’ve been working with a few new SoulCollage® cards I made last weekend and one more card insisted on coming into the mix. It’s one that’s been around for awhile, but I haven’t spent much time with it. So… after reading Tilden Edwards quote (above) during my morning quiet time, my mouth dropped open & the giggly feeling rose up when I realized what’s on that card – a woman sitting in front of a huge closed gate/door… And believe me when I say, she has a lot to talk about!!

For now, I'll close with these snapshots of doors 1, 2 and 3. It’s a good thing I’ve spent the summer becoming physically solvent, since it looks like there’s a lot of adventure and mystery waiting to be let into the light. I hope you’ll stick around and journey with me!!

How about you? Any doors in your life beckoning for attention? Are there rooms in your ‘house’ awaiting a face-lift? Me? I’m off to de-clutter and see what happens next!

a very scary door #2
'the gatekeeper' © lucy

Inside Out

“For no matter how badly we want to love or be loved, we cannot alter our basic nature and survive inside, where it counts.” Mark Nepo

I have a friend who is absolutely the most gorgeous woman I have ever known. She has the face and body that many would consider “perfect.” As one friend described, “She’s better than anything that’s stepped out of Hollywood.” For all outward appearances she lives a charmed life – handsome husband, beautiful house, successful child… the list goes on. AND, she is miserable, lost and floundering in her life.

As we caught up about old times and what’s been happening in our lives in the last 15 years, she listened compassionately to the story of my journey and looked at me with her doe-like eyes to offer, “Your life hasn’t been easy.” True. It hasn’t. AND I wouldn’t trade the hard times (nor would I ask for them) if they would bring me to this place in my life today. Her 'hard times' are very different from mine, but in many ways they seem even harder - they are subtle and keep her trapped in a place of confusion, because she "shouldn't be complaining." Oh, my heart breaks for her.

Somehow my journey has brought me to a place where I am able to wake up each morning grateful. Sometimes I’m a little groggy or a little slower to realize I have found my voice – “my basic nature” as Nepo describes – and I am learning to live out of that place. My insides are awakening even as my outside gathers wrinkles and gray hairs. Learning to love myself from the inside out brings more life than any outside appearance can ever offer. My hope is that I will continue to remember this. My sincerest prayer is that others will know this too.

I’ve been away and miss my friends here. I hope you’ll stop and say hello. I look forward to reconnecting!!!

Notes of My Song

"When a pianist learns a new piece of music, he or she does not sit down and instantly play it perfectly... It may all seem disconnected. It may not sound like a harmonious, beautiful piece of music - just isolated notes... Then one day, something happens. What we have been working toward, note by note, becomes a song. That song is a whole life, a complete life, a life in harmony." Melody Beattie

It seems as though I'm always practicing something - yoga - mindfulness - counseling skills - artistic endeavors - being a better wife, mother, friend. So, I loved when I read Beattie's quote this morning. It rang so true to me as I realize I'm practicing the parts of my life to come fully into the whole song that is me.

Now, don't get me wrong, I fully believe I'm already whole (as are you) AND I like to consider myself an unfinished woman which gives me opportunity to keep discovering new things along the way. This was a pivotal awareness in my journey with God. Once I realized I didn't have or never could figure everything out, it led me to a new place of curiosity and adventure. It really keeps things exciting and full of surprise as I discover the notes God has written in my song of discovery - about each of us, God - you - me. There's always more to discover and practice.

I began this post thinking I would fill you in on my latest practice, but I think I'll save that for another day. This feels like plenty to ponder on this sacred Sunday. So...

Have you ever considered the parts of your life as notes in a song? Some flow melodically and others seem like flats and sharps or clashing symbols. Do you have a current practice that's helping you create your best composition possible? Or do you let your fingers lay flat on the keys hoping the music will come without your input? Ponder alongside me, will you?

Blessings to you today. Thanks for stopping by!!

"The music will come together in our life if we keep practicing the parts." Melody Beattie

photo - lucy 'practicing' surfing - maui, 2010

Emancipation

"If it isn't an experience of newfound freedom, I don't think it is an authentic God experience." -- Richard Rohr

God doesn't make us smaller. When we are "emancipated" as Rohr mentions in his offering today, we are enlarged in our capacity to love - to be - to worship - to live. If I have to live a life of making myself smaller, then I'm not experiencing God fully. Of course, there is sacrifice and it's not about getting what I "want" all of the time. In the words of Mick Jagger - you can't always get want you want, but if you try sometime, you just might find you get what you need. But I digress...

I believe life isn't about making ourselves smaller or taking up too much space, but rather using the space we have wisely. Recently my way of using space (being) and/or doing life has shifted. Activities have been more physical than spiritual - more internal than external - more solitary than communal. I've been asking myself the question: Am I wasting time or am I expanding?

I was reminded this morning to never underestimate the power of morning pages. (Side note - I attempted journaling via 750words.com and while I love the premise, I continue to find there is more magic for me in using my fountain pen and a composition notebook.) Here is my morning response to my own question of wasting time or expanding:

I need to contract - pull back - some of the time or I'll pop like an overstretched rubber band. I need time to percolate - to practice and integrate what I'm learning, just like in yoga. You don't go from zero to perfect pose immediately. Keep returning to the restorative poses. Stretch and return. Push the edges and rest. Perhaps my mind is taking a break to integrate - I'm using my body to recuperate. Mind and body working together to find the balance and wholeness I desire. Ah, newfound freedom in this moment. That's emancipation.

Where are you being stretched? Does lying in "corpse pose" feel restorative or lifeless for you? Thoughts on balance? Emancipation?

"balance" SoulCollage card