gracious tenders of fire

Oh, I have a fire in my belly and sometimes it doesn’t burn so pure. It threatens to hop out of its grate and scorch those that get in the way. I am so grateful for the responses to judgment or observation and how it helped me to see for myself where and how I want people to join me in my “righteous” flame. My reader responses were so thoughtful that I wanted to respond here in post rather than have it buried in the comment section. (The following, in most instances, contains my paraphrasing rather than direct quotations.)

Difference a Year Makes spoke of bringing our own eyes and filters to each situation. What a great little reminder of something that I often preach, but sometimes forget to practice ☺. In this case, my filter comes from someone who grew up quite familiar with judgments in general and Christian fundamentalism in particular. I have also been a mother who wonders when she might get the call that something has happened to her “not model” child. So, I get a little sensitive when all of those things collide together as they did in the referred to recent e-mail.

Gabrielle reminded me that we have the power to choose what we do with our observations and judgments. I can choose to hold onto thoughts and let them fester or I can let it go and transform into something else. Tess and Sunrise Sister let me know that my interpretation could be subject to another point of view. (Ouch! That one hurt a little and I really wanted to fight it.)

While the wording in the e-mail did indicate that prayer for the deceased (or perhaps one who takes one’s own life) might not be appropriate, I was reminded by Sorrow that the author was indeed seeking comfort for the family and not attempting to exclude anyone. She was trying to be respectful of other’s faiths. Furthermore, Barbara and my husband reminded me, there are wonderful, faith-filled people who do not believe in praying for the dead. While I still get caught on that one, I can let it go as a difference of opinion and not something I am called to judge. It is here I realized I wanted others to join with me and say, “That Faith is wrong!” Gabriella M. reminded me that I can accept someone without liking what they do.

The gracious words of those who love and tolerate my fiery nature led me gently back to the place I long to be. It is a place where I am not attached to my thoughts and thus they do not turn into judgments and I am at peace with the world and myself. It is a place where I recognize myself as fallible, broken and wondrous and I can see others that way too.

This time the fire briefly threatened to be one that could consume. Instead, my friends came around like gentle tenders of the flame, nurturing with word, musing and metaphor to keep the fire a place of warmth and safety rather than danger and destruction. Peace to each of you, fire tenders.

For those of you who did not read the responses to this post, I highly recommend you visit there for beautiful words of wisdom and grace.

fire. rock. water. you. me.

"In loving ourselves, we love the world. For just as fire, rock and water are all made up of molecules, everything, including you and me, is connected by a small piece of the beginning." --Mark Nepo

sunset hill 1.23.09

fire of freedom

This theme of fire continues to find and follow me. The candle beckons me first thing in the morning to light its flame. It dances in the peripheral of my vision and reminds me that We are One – dance – flame – God.

A little journaling and then a “random” opening of “Thomas Merton: A Book of Hours” reveals this:

"The fire of love for souls loved by God consumes like the fire of God’s love, and it is the same love. It burns you up with a hunger for the supernatural happiness first of the people that you know, then of people you have barely heard of, and finally of everybody."

It is easy to love the lovable, but what of the not so lovable? My heart is big even though it grew up in a home of judgment and criticism. My mind turns to Linda on the playground. We are seven years old. I feel her hand in mine. It has a slightly different feel - a little drier – a little coarser, but still it is a small hand like mine. Fingers entwined as we skip across the playground, joyously together.

During that moment, I did not know this was considered an outrage to many. It was 1963 in Bethany, Oklahoma. Linda was black and I was white. I did not know that during this same time period, perhaps even the same week, four African American girls just about our age had been killed in a bombing in Alabama while attending church. I did not know it could be considered dangerous to be friends with this girl who was just like me. I did not know that some considered her unlovable.

I have no idea how long we were friends. It might have been only that one day. She disappeared from our school as quietly as she had arrived. Still 35 years later, she lingers in my mind.

Have you ever heard the saying, “You cannot skip and be angry at the same time?” Try it sometime. Two images of freedom come to me most strongly when I think of my childhood. One is skipping by myself on my way to Kindergarten - scuffing my perfect little shoes along the way. The other is skipping hand in hand with Linda on the playground of our elementary school.

So why does this come to my mind now? I believe Linda has reappeared to me today as that symbol of freedom both for myself and for our country, even our world. We are in an historic time right now. Can you feel it? May the fire of freedom burn brightly!!!

Bless you, Linda, wherever you may be.

Consider this: Who are the "Linda's" of your life? What does "fire of freedom" say to you?

blazing a trail

Earlier this afternoon while pondering why it was that I so desperately felt like I needed a nap even after almost 10 hours of welcome sleep last night, it dawned on me that I have been going non-stop since the beginning of the New Year. It has been wild and wonderful and I have to admit just a bit exhausting.

I started the New Year with a trip to Denver for my husband’s aunt and uncle’s 50th wedding anniversary. It was a blessed event and a glorious celebration of the lives of two very special people plus their four amazing children & spouses and numerous grandchildren. It was a special treat for my family of four as we traveled, laughed, lived and even danced together for a few days.

My next stop was Lubbock, Texas and a trip outside town to Brazos de Dios ranch where I helped facilitate a Soltura workshop for five amazing men ranging in age from 25 to 58. There is something incredibly special for me to work with men and watch as their hardened armor drops away and tender hearts shine through. It was a blessed way to spend several days.

I arrived home late the night of January 11 (after a delayed flight) and began a Full week which included:

• beginning of term meetings at Mars Hill,
• planning sessions for a new Supervision Group for Compassionate Listeners that I have the privilege of co-facilitating with the amazing Christine Paintner,
• my first taste of the Memoir Writing Class I am taking at the University of Washington Extension,
• my first ever drumming class with Simone LaDrumma. (I bought myself a djembe for Christmas and talked sweet hubby into coming along for the lessons ☺),
• Thursday morning’s first session of our Supervision Group. Six amazing women make up our group and they each brought a spirit of yearning and delight to our initial meeting. I was excited to lead the expressive arts time which is a real stretch for someone who as little as two years ago did not consider herself an artist ☺!
• Friday brought another packed suitcase and the short flight to Walla Walla to connect with my sister for an art retreat weekend in Pendleton, Oregon that she purchased at an auction in 2008.
• Saturday, four of us trekked to Pendleton and spent the day in the presence of master printmaker Frank Janzen at Crow’s Shadow. Wow! This part of the experience was definitely more about process than product, but I have to admit that I am moderately pleased with my first efforts. And, it was a blast to do!!
• Sunday we awoke and headed to the studio of Roberta Lavadour and spent the day making our own handmade books. So much fun and I love my new journal!!
• Sunday afternoon I returned to Seattle and went from airport to my daughter’s basketball game after which I vegged in front of the tv watching “You’ve Got Mail.” ☺

So, all of that leads me back to this afternoon and my serious pondering of a nap! As you might guess, this also accounts for my cutback in posts and comments via the blogosphere, but hey, I am having some kind of fun!!!

I’m not sure where all of this is leading, but I am definitely Ablaze with lots of creativity and fullness!!!

Wishing you a Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day and hoping you find yourself awakened to whatever lights your fire!!!

photos from brazos de dios, january 2009

Becoming Fire

Settling into the darkness of winter, I have been introduced to FIRE.

“No one but me by the fire, my hands burning red in the palms while the night wind carries everything away outside.” David Whyte – “The Winter of Listening”

“…she would burst into conversation that must have startled listeners, at times, like heat lightning in a distant summer sky.” Robert McDowell

“I am the fire of the world burning with desire.” Feminine World

“When prayer and attending to the Sacred have become so deeply integrated into your life that you are consumed by a love of God and all things, you have become fire.” Christine Valters Paintner

I am fire. Images dancing through my mind during my season of Advent. The flame. I am the fire of the world. I am flame. Light. Maybe the word is not light. Perhaps it is flame. Fire. To burn and not be consumed. Reaching toward the light. Becoming flame. Feeling that during centering prayer. Be Fire. Be the flame.

I am the fire of the world burning with desire. Desire does not consume. It encompasses and spreads. With motives of fear, it can be destructive and take out everything in its path. But desire and delight spreads – nourishes – overflows. The chalice. The flame. You cannot look away from the flame.

Today I was fire. The other warmed by my flame, not wanting to look away. Radiant – engaging. My truth shining through. Lovely. Kind. Free. Delightful. I am fire. My mantra for the year – the new year. Welcoming this into my life. Naming what is there. A spark. A light. The flame is coming into fruition. Ablaze. I am fire.

“Let your light shine. Let your love show.” Keb Mo

adapted from morning pages 12.30.08
photo - brazos de dios 1.06.09