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.

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?

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.

Scorched Earth

“And the Lord will continually guide you. And satisfy your desire in a scorched place. And give strength to your bones; And you will be like a watered garden, And like a spring of water whose waters don’t fail.” Isaiah 58:11

Today I am saying good-bye to 2006—a year that has been difficult, painful and scorched. It has also been a year where the Lord has provided daily strength to my very frame and watered the depths of my soul.

Tomorrow, I fly to Mexico—a land of scorched earth. I covet rest and restoration as I travel from land into the immensity of the sea via sailboat—there to be watered like a garden and have my depleted springs filled. Nature calls to me. God beckons me to meet him in a new place filled with dust of the earth and water of the soul.

"coming back" photo by bill hughlett

Spoken Words. Seen Words.

Unfolding. Seeing. Knowing. Hearing. Seeking. Seeking our story. Seeking the truth. Seeking connection to our very soul. Where does it start? How do we begin? I see Mt. Rainier outside my window and wonder, where did it begin? What is the depth of that great mountain? How high is the peak of its summit? Is it like my soul? Growing and expanding. Some days hiding behind the clouds. Other days white and beautiful for all to see?

In recent days I have been consistently drawn to the topic of knowing. Knowing God. Knowing ourselves. Knowing others. My first recent awareness of this came as I was reading an advent meditation entry by the father of a deaf child. He was quite concerned that his daughter would never “hear” the Christmas story, the story of Incarnation, in a language she could “understand.” Therefore, she could “never embrace the Light of the World.” While I think I understand his compassion and desire for his daughter and other deaf children, I somehow felt this statement to be so wrong. In my heart, I believe these children may hear and know God more deeply than this father who thinks that only man’s spoken words can adequately convey the gospel.

Since that reading, I have been ever aware of the many ways that God speaks to me and provides a deeper knowing than any spoken words can convey. “The Divine Voice is not always expressed in words. It is made known as a heart-consciousness.” (from God Calling). It is this “heart-consciousness” that seems to speak most loudly to me.

My ponderings did not end, however, with only the spoken word. I also have much considered the seen word. I am aware of how visually stimulated I am by God’s creation all around and how it is often in the seeing that I experience the knowing of which I write. Thus enters my new favorite saint, St. Lucy—the patron saint of blindness. Lucy means “light,” coming from the same Latin root as “lucid” which translates as “clear, radiant, understandable.” St. Lucy’s martyred life ended with her eyes being gouged out. Miraculously, however, she was still able to see even without her eyes.

While the stories say this was miraculous, I wonder, do we not all have this “miraculous” ability—to see without eyes, to hear without ears, to feel without touch? Is this not the handiwork of a miraculous God—the one who provides multiple pathways to unfolding, seeing, knowing, hearing and seeking truth?

I am certain this is a topic I will return to again and again. For now, however, I will end with a poem from The Prophet by Khalil Gibran.


And a man said, Speak to us of Self-Knowledge.
And he answered saying:
Your hearts know in silence the secrets of the days and the nights.
But your ears thirst for the sound of your heart’s knowledge.
You would know in words that which you have always known in thought.
You would touch with your fingers the naked body of your dreams.

And it is well you should.
The hidden well-spring of your soul must needs rise and run murmuring to the sea;
And the treasure of your infinite depths would be revealed to your eyes.
But let there be no scales to weigh your unknown treasure;
And seek not the depths of your knowledge with staff or sounding line.
For self is a sea boundless and measureless.

Say not, “I have found the truth,” but rather, “I have found a truth.”
Say not, “I have found the path of the soul.” Say rather, “I have met the soul walking upon my path.”
For the soul walks upon all paths.
The soul walks not upon a line, neither does it grow like a reed.
The soul unfolds itself, like a lotus of countless petals.

"its makers praise" photo by bill hughlett