Playful Child

Summer time is the perfect time for daydreaming. Today I would love for us to consider our playful children. Not the ones that might be running around in your house or playing in the neighborhood outside, but the playful child who lives inside you. Yes, you...& me!

What follows is a simple meditation. If you would like to take part (and I sincerely hope you will), I suggest you gather some crayons, colored pencils or markers and a large sheet of plain paper to have by your side. Then consider this:

When you think of being a playful child, what comes to mind? Particular tastes, touch, smell? Popsicles on a hot summer day. The soft furr of a tiny kitten. The scratchy tongue of a puppy on your hand. Maybe it is the smell of popcorn and the anticipation of The Wonderful World of Disney or Howdy Doody or Sesame Street.

Are you inside or outside? Can you feel the grass beneath your feet? The splash of water on your toes? Perhaps you are curled up next to your mom or dad. Can you smell cookies baking in the oven or feel the excitement of your first day of school?

What things do you look forward to? A trip to the beach. A new book. Playing a game with friends. Hopscotch or jacks. Skipping rope or riding your bike and feeling the wind in your hair. Skiing in the fresh snow, building a snowman or the freedom of skimming across new ice on skates.

Where do you feel the most alive and content? Can you see it? Smell it? Touch it? Taste it? What does it sound like? Church bells. Peels of laughter. A gentle voice reading you a story or the magnificent silence as you gaze at the night’s brilliant stars. Can you sense the joy of finding the big dipper or the north star?

Does your playful child like small cozy spaces? Covers thrown over the table to make a tent? Snuggling in bed with a flashlight and a Nancy Drew book? Perhaps you prefer the great outdoors. The expanse of the beach or a mountain trail while sitting atop your daddy’s shoulders. Sharing the great wildness with your heavenly Father. The Grand Canyon. Miles of desert or forest or ocean or running free through endless fields of wheat or corn.

Maybe this is an actual experience or maybe it’s only that special place in your dreams. When you close your eyes and feel the senses of freedom and childhood, what comes to mind? Consider the playful child. What does she/he look like? Does playful have a taste? A smell? Use all your senses. Can you hear it? Do your fingers reach for something to touch and hold? Let your imagination flow. Be in that place where anything is possible. No fear. Only love surrounds you. Taste it. Touch it. Smell it. Feel it. See it. Know it.

And now, holding all that you have just experienced, I encourage you to use your non-dominant hand and DRAW it. Don’t think about it. Tell the inner critique you're not listening today. Just pick up a crayon and draw. What colors are this image? Let them flow onto the paper. Hold that space and be the child who knows only freedom and safety and love. Let that child and her experience flow out onto the paper. After all, she/he deserves a chance to come out and play, don't ya think?

(and then, of course, let me know what you discovered! Happy dreaming!!! ☺)

playful child ksh, age 4
lucy's drawing 8/13/09 (no need to worry about your own results. isn't mine beautiful?!?!?)

Voiceless Chick - part 2

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

partial collage by lucy 7.31.09

lucy's personal empowerment day

It is starting to appear that February 27 is some kind of great empowerment day for me. Last year on this date, I was winging my way across the Atlantic for my grand Paris adventure. Today...I conquered the incessantly running toilet in our bathroom. Not quite the same, you might say. Well, I don't know. There is something pretty magical about saving a $100 plus charge for a plumber house call, purchasing a part for $2.70 and completing the whole process solo! I am pretty dang proud of myself.

The rest of the day held its own kind of magic too. I had early morning correspondence with some of my favorite people then went for a long overdue hair appointment. In fact, it may have been the new coif that convinced the hardware store salesman to walk me through the plumbing repair free of charge. The sun was gloriously shining here, too, which was a welcome relief after the blowing rain and snow we have experienced the rest of the week.

So, with new bouncy hair and no dastardly roots showing, I conquered my plumbing dilemma and then promptly paid myself with a new piece of art that Sunrise Sister tempted me with. I completed a few more items on my to do list and decided to walk down to our little town center to the bank and post office. After completing those tasks, I strolled by the movie theater and noticed that "The Reader" had opened today and the next showing was in 20 minutes. What's an empowered girl to do? You guessed it! Go to the movies! I was not disappointed and was only confirmed that Kate Winslet is the one to perform my memoir.

Now, I'm home with dinner in the oven and a beautiful salad awaiting my dear husband's arrival. My repair work today was in his bathroom, so he is going to be thrilled...at least I hope he is. Like I said, it may not be Paris...but life is pretty darn good on this side of the ocean too!

Yes, I am easily amused. How about you? What little pleasures brighten up your day? Where do you find empowerment? Enjoyment? Contentment?

top photo: from rodin museum - paris
bottom: http://www.katherinetreffinger.com/

exposed

“But for most art there is no client, and in making it you lay bare a truth you perhaps never anticipated: that by your very contact with what you love, you have exposed yourself to the world.” ---from Art and Fear

My days are full and good. Exciting even. The book is coming to fruition. After yesterday’s initial brief announcement, there are requests for more than 20 copies. Oh my. This makes me really nervous. I feel exposed! What if they don’t like it? If they feel ripped off? What if they don’t “get it”? What if it looks horrible? The voices battle. The inner critic says, “Dump it!” The strong me says, “Spread the word!”

This book is me. It is my form of grace. My grace is sufficient for you. Grace has supervised this project. The molding and shaping throughout the book. Add more pages. It’s not enough. Will it ever be enough? And so, I stop and declare. This IS enough. I get to choose and this feels right. It feels sufficient…maybe even more than sufficient ☺.

I see the trails of my life throughout this book. Soltura. Family. Amazing Grace. Beauty. Form. Movement. Sunday School. Mars Hill. The bus. Formative moments. Brazos and Lakebay. It’s all there. Mexico. Bermuda. Seattle. Texas. The desert. The beach. Night and day.

This is the beginning. Oh sh*t, here we go again, Lord. You are amazing beyond words and I am scared to death. Is it fear of failure or success? What if I am successful? It is my dream and it terrifies me! And, it thrills me! My chest is tightening. Breathe. Be still and know that I am God. Slow down. Breathe. My grace is sufficient for you.

photo by lucy from seattle sculpture park 11.17.08

art making & prayer

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

--saying found in Lectio Divina

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