After Easter

Reflecting on my past week and considering what called to be shared this morning, I looked into my past few journal entries and was greeted with a heading “Where do you experience the body of Christ?” Words flowed and I found the answer easily in those places where I feel most myself – welcomed – connected – seen for who I am versus who others think I should be.... but, life isn’t always lived feeling welcome & connected.

“We cannot live without being affected by others, but we are only real when we let truth and love shape us from within.” -- Mark Nepo

This week has been an odd one for me. Easter has come and gone. Life feels much the same as before and it feels different. How do we live after Easter? This week has been a series of ups and downs. I’ve considered where I meet the risen Christ. I’ve struggled with betrayal. I’ve experienced hope. Rejoiced in laughter and silence.

Easter Sunday this year was spent celebrating behind prison walls and in many ways it was a more sincere celebration than ever before without all the pomp and circumstance. Feelings of unconditional love and hope for restoration resounded. Still...

A big question this week has been who are my friends? Who stands up for me and meets me on the road where I am? Who stays present when the going gets rough or uncomfortable? Who is willing to die alongside me – the small and large doses of death each day? How will I meet those who grieve (myself included)? How will you?

This week, I wrote notes of condolence (which I prefer to call notes of solidarity) to two friends – one who lost a child tragically to alcohol poisoning; the other, whose father died naturally of old age. I attended a celebration for people in recovery, honoring their healing and transformation. I walked in a hailstorm and was met by sunshine when I turned a corner. Yes, it has been an odd week and a very normal one.

Reflecting again on “where do I experience the body of Christ?” I realize it is in all these places – behind prison walls & freely walking in my neighborhood – in death, life and resurrection. Struggling with betrayal and rejoicing in blessings. There is no separation. If Christ is risen – if I am risen – we must experience each other where our joy and wounds meet. Feeling the cross and the resurrection. Before. After. Now.

“Origami Emotion”
Elizabeth Barrette

Hope is
Folding paper cranes
even when your hands get cramped
and your eyes tired,
working past blisters and
paper cuts,
simply because something in you
insists on
opening its wings.

The collages shown here were co-created with my friend, MaryEllen, to honor the participants in our recent class,
Deepening Spirituality through SoulCollage.

top to bottom: Jan, Mikey, Jo, Q, Jeana

Easter Reflections

Saturday – For now we wait – in this place between death and redemption – dark and light. A mother sitting at the foot of the cross watching her son die. Others stand with her AND she can only stand alone. No one can know the heartbreak of her own cross – her flesh and blood pouring from the wounds.

Today, the day in between, we wait. Have we not always waited? Death & resurrection. Birth & new life. How did we get here? Sitting at the cross. Moving east toward sunrise . East toward the tomb.

For what do I wait? The already and the not yet. Jesus’ way. His life is my life. Buried and crucified. Killed for loving. Was it worth it? Yes – every moment. I could not be here if I hadn’t gone there. And now we wait.

“The tomb becomes a womb today.” Richard Rohr

Sunday – Sitting in last night's Easter vigil, I was not ready for the lights to come on. The darkness comforting – holding – peaceful & womblike. No resurrection – yet. No bright lights. No breaking the silence with a rousing Alleluia.

“Love is not a victory march. It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah.”
-- Leonard Cohen

Today, I sit with you, Lord, knowing you are risen. Knowing it’s not about the grave or the cross or even death itself. It’s about now. You are here with me in this quiet moment. Risen. Yes.

I am happy to have sat in the dark of last night’s vigil. Today the light feels harsh. The celebration of bonnets and bunnies is too much. Instead, I sit in my jeans and t-shirt waiting to go to the Washington State Penitentiary to see my own flesh and blood.

We are rising. Already and not yet. We will go and sit and keep our own vigil on this day of resurrection. And in my heart, I will sing a broken Hallelujah – remembering the beauty in brokenness - waiting - and Love.

photo © h3images

How Foolish is that?

For weeks now I’ve been reflecting on the irony of Maundy Thursday falling on April Fool’s Day. Questions keep swimming through my mind. They started in full force earlier this week when the gospel story had Mary (possibly) Magdalene pouring expensive perfume onto Jesus’ feet. How foolish is she? thought the observing witnesses. And then today, Jesus says to his disciples I will wash your feet. What? they wondered. How foolish is that? And then we go onto the greater story – a man would die and rise from the dead. He would die so that others might live. He did it willingly. How foolish is that?

I also wonder if Jesus asked the same question of his heavenly Father? Really? Put me on a stake and kill me, so others might have life? You’ve got to be kidding? They say he did not question. Still...I wonder.

The apostle Paul says, "We are fools for Christ's sake.” I Corinthians 4:10

The archetypal Fool is celebrated today. Coming in a variety of forms (clown, court jester, trickster, happy child), the Fool always causes us to take notice and reminds us how to Lighten Up! This lively character has a unique way of embracing life and turning 'normal' circumstances upside down.

Don’t you think this sounds just a bit like Mary and/or Jesus: “embracing life and turning 'normal' circumstances upside down?”

Today is Maundy Thursday and it is April Fool’s Day – I believe there is no irony. Will you consider this? Where might you be taking life too seriously? Where are you living so lightly, others are forgotten? Will you wash another’s feet today - literally or metaphorically? Will you tiptoe through the tulips of God’s creation? Will you embrace life for what it is – foolish, dark, majestic? Will you be a fool for Love’s sake?

(If you haven't signed up for my diamonds in the soul newsletter yet, click on the box in the right hand column for further discussion of "the Fool.")

'neighborhood reflections' © lucy 3.29.10

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 ☺

The music is everywhere...

Recently I proclaimed the movie, August Rush, as one of my top favorites. In reality, I could watch only the first five minutes and be sated especially after the opening scene when young orphan, Evan/August reminds us,

"The music is everywhere. All you have to do is listen."

My morning readings today were filled with themes of listening. Today is the Feast of the Annunciation celebrating the day Mary listened to God's messenger and announced her sacred "Yes" (or "May it be") to becoming the mother of Jesus. In The Book of Awakening, these words spoke to me,

"Listening arises from a deeper place, and it seems we can only hear the living to the extent we have truly lived, only understand pain and joy to the extent that we have allowed ourselves to be touched by life." -- Mark Nepo

And in my more academic readings, neuroscience confirms the need for deeper listening to hear what's below the words. Individuals not only hold explicit memory (which can be retrieved and reflected upon), but also implicit memory that is somatic, nonverbal and not as easily accessible for conscious reflection. (Art, music, imagination and movement are some of the ways we tap into implicit memory.)

This is a long road of background to say, I believe in the power of listening - first, to the story that resides within me; which leads to the important second - the ability to listen deeply to others. I don't believe I can do one without the other. Jesus said this more simply and eloquently:

"Love God and love your neighbor as yourself."

This post's inspiration began with an e-mail from a friend who lovingly demonstrated she had been listening to me. Said friend sent me the following horoscope, and did not know, however, I had recently created this SoulCollage® collage card - "Storm's Gift."

The storm is your friend right now, Virgo. So are the deep, dark night and the last place you'd ever think of visiting and the most important thing you've forgotten about. So be more willing than usual to marinate in the mysteries -- not with logical ferocity but with cagey curiosity. The areas of life that are most crucial for you to deal with can't be fully understood using the concepts your rational mind favors. The feelings that will be most useful for you to explore are unlike those you're familiar with. from Free Will Astrology

The music is everywhere... This Lenten season has brought new and old ways of being present to God, myself and others. Some ways feel explicit (known) and others more implicit (instinctual and at times unfamiliar). Thus the journey continues - my song - the world's song ...all we have to do is listen.

Where is the song in your life? Is there a specific tune beckoning to be heard? Will you take the time to listen and perhaps like Mary amidst her fear say, "May it be"? Do you see music in the storm or dark of night? Can you hear the music?