What We Already Know

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wild Angels

The readings and practices I have encountered and engaged in during this season of Lent have been rich and full of deep meaning for me. I have found myself moving through the desert and awakening into spring. The dark of night has whispered love stories to me and the light of day has proven expansive and wondrous. Integration has been a key theme as I look back on the days and weeks proceeding this day.

Yesterday, however, after writing my post about chakras and meditation, I found myself wondering if people are confused by my writing – by me – by my faith. The church of my youth and not-so-distant past frowned disparagingly on notions of yoga and opening your mind beyond the concrete pages of the Bible. So, I guess it’s no wonder there are vestiges of personal thought that linger in that camp. Yet, when I listen deeply to my heart and sink into the word of God that engages me at every turn, I know I’m truly on a Holy path.

Yesterday’s post referred to a small portion of a quote from Tao Te Ching, but I spent much of the day with another piece pricking at my mind:

"Care about people’s approval
and you will be their prisoner."
--Tao Te Ching

Today’s scripture reading offered me affirmation it was time to let go of those lingering thoughts of worry:

“The Lord God has given me a well-trained tongue, that I might know how to speak to the weary a word that will rouse them.”
Isaiah 50:4

…and suddenly the battles of how to communicate my faith dissipated. There is a wholeness I feel that reaches beyond only the Bible’s pages. It comes from the brokenness I have experienced in my life as well as the joy I find in some pretty unexpected places. Learning to rouse myself and those around me is my calling.

Exploring the world – all corners of it – is my path to God. Studying yoga – chakras – centering prayer – praying with the elements – soul collage – drumming – water dance – laughter – tears – hours in silence – creating art – writing poetry – doing nothing – going on pilgrimage, et cetera, et cetera – are just a few of the pathways where I have met God.

If I worry about what others think – if I let them pick my path – then they own me. So, I ask myself, “What is my heart?”

My heart is connected to the world – intertwined with God – grounded in the earth – reaching toward the heavens. Knowing what is love and what is fear. We fear what we do not know. Thus, I continue seeking and hoping for a developed mind that learns to speak with a “well-trained tongue, that I might know how to speak to the weary.”

In closing, I must share the final little impetus that led me to write these words. It comes from today’s post at Abbey of the Arts where she asks us to name which angel is calling to us as we enter this final week of Lent. My angel greeted me boldly. She is one who has come before and I pray will come on a regular basis. She is the one I believe overcomes fear and pushes us toward freedom.

The angel of wildness picked me up, pulled me out of complacency and introduced me to “true otherness”. For that (& more) I am eternally grateful.. May you feel whole, connected and free during the coming days. May your week truly be Holy.

Namaste ☺

Dancing Molecules

Oh man, I feel like my whole personhood is being reorganized on a molecular level – spiritually, emotionally and physically. Scientifically, this makes a lot of sense, due to my recent experience with Lifespan Integration (LI). LI is a form of therapy said to operate on a cellular level by using principles of neuroscience whereby the body and mind work together maximizing neural plasticity to effect change. Have I lost you? My simple version is that by incorporating body, mind and spirit simultaneously, a new internal map is created in how we experience our lives and the world.

So, … I’ve been feeling slightly spacey the last couple of days, while also experiencing a heightened attunement to my intuitive skills. My right brain has been operating in high gear which has left my language skills lagging a bit behind. Even as I try to write this, I realize all I really want to do is look at pictures and listen to music. I had an irresistible urge to stop and buy daffodils on my way home from the Novena this afternoon. While it may sound as though I've lost my left-brain marbles, Spirit seems to be present at every turn and astounding moments of grace continue showing up.

Last year’s internal battle with exclusion from communion was replaced today by a clearly felt, unhindered invitation to the table. Worshiping in the beautiful chapel, images rolled like a movie through my mind and body. When the time came for a sampling of prayers to be read from the baskets containing hundreds of requests, I was touched by each reading: the nephew in Iraq, a friend with cancer, prayers for healed relationship, and so on. I don’t know about you, but in those moments I always have a little anticipatory wish that my own prayer will be chosen, and today my wish was granted. My heart overflowed as I heard aloud the prayer for my children, and I solidly felt the presence of One greater than I. Another shift in the molecular puzzle clicked into place.

It’s been quite a Lenten season and we’re only midway through. My heart is shifting. My soul is healing. My brain is re-patterning. My molecules are dancing. Who knows where I’m going… but it’s an amazing journey so far.

I’ve missed you and would love to know where you are these days. Stuck? Dancing? Floating? Wandering? Feel any molecular shifts lately?

photos from Old Ballard '10

Clean Heart

Have mercy on me, God, in your goodness; in your abundant compassion blot out my offense.
Wash away all my guilt; from my sin cleanse me.
For I know my offense; my sin is always before me.
Against you alone have I sinned;
I have done such evil in your sight
That you are just in your sentence,
blameless when you condemn.
True, I was born guilty, a sinner,
even as my mother conceived me.
Still, you insist on sincerity of heart;
in my inmost being teach me wisdom.
Cleanse me with hyssop, that I may be pure;
wash me, make me whiter than snow.
Let me hear sounds of joy and gladness;
let the bones you have crushed rejoice.
Turn away your face from my sins;
blot out all my guilt.
A clean heart create for me, God;
renew in me a steadfast spirit.
Do not drive me from your presence,
nor take from me your holy spirit.
Restore my joy in your salvation;
sustain in me a willing spirit.

-Psalm 51: 3-14

Well, I have to say this week’s Lent readings from Abbey of the Arts are tapping into my fury at a God of judgment and condemnation. My early personal story contains a history of God principally being defined by fear and rarely offering unconditional love. I also struggle with the notion of being “sinner(s) even as (our) mother(s) conceived (us).”

Today I wonder about the Psalmist and consider perhaps he wrote from his own inner voice of condemnation – passing the buck to God as the One who blames us for sin. For most human beings, it’s much easier to blame outside circumstances or other people rather than look inside and hold our own responsibility. Personally, I would prefer to “blame” myself rather than worship a vengeful God who creates sinners by design.

I’m much more inclined to start with Genesis 1:31 and hear the resounding, “it was very good” than “...born guilty, a sinner, even as my mother conceived me.” Where does the latter fit with “it was very good”?

Lest you think I believe everything is sweet hearts and rosy flowers, I know it is true that we “sin.” We turn away from God. We turn away from ourselves. We turn away from others. The cloak of darkness shrouds us tighter and tighter, especially when we listen to those voices of condemnation and evil. We move toward hate – hating ourselves and thus hating others. I cannot reconcile the discrepancy (and ensuing theological debate) between Genesis and this Psalm other than to consider it as man’s influence in the writing. Perchance he writes from a mind riddled with guilt, thus momentarily forgetting the goodness and light I believe resides in each of us.

This Lenten season, my turning is toward God – toward my inner most self – the one who shows mercy and compassion. If I truly forgive myself knowing all that I have done wrong and felt and been, how can I not forgive others? How can I not find rest and have my joy restored?

By being more compassionate toward myself and thus others, I move toward God. We are all created with a Divine spark – perhaps it is hidden in the clean heart this Psalmist begs for.

I'ao Valley River © lucy
Maui graffiti © lucy

Sea glass. Sea turtles. Sea breeze.

Amazing time away. The title of the post narrowly describes it.

The meditative time of sorting, sifting, digging and splashing for decades old pieces of tumbled glass is only describable to those who "get it." My sis and I... we do. The rest of the clan smiles and says "You look happy." (We are.)

Today's amazing glimpse of water enveloped a giant sea turtle who entertained us for what could have been hours. A massive head and enormous flippers bobbed up and down out of the water only feet away. The full portrait of the prehistoric shelled beast captured in the aquamarine wave back lit by the sun left us gasping for more.

Pink-tinted cumulus clouds wrapped the Valentine's evening as the sun set over the Pacific sea. How do you define paradise? Read between the lines if you must. All I have to say is, "I'm here."

Aloha, my friends.

The weather's beautiful. Wish you were here...

'surfer's on maui's north shore' © h3images