the place in between

During this week leading up to Palm Sunday, I find myself surrounded by “the place in between.” Not dead, but not resurrected. Knowing, but encircled by mystery. Springtime – no longer winter, but the warmth of summer has not arrived. Hints of blossoming yet death still lies in my flowerbeds. Mourning a leaving and excited for new possibilities. Ending time with students – done, but not done. Living with a teenager – no longer a child and the adult has not yet emerged. Mid-life. Need I say more?

“I try to take on one day at a time, but sometimes several days attack me all at once.” Jennifer Unlimited – Hazelden

and my daily dose of Merton:

“O tongue of flame
Under the heart
Speak softly:
For love is black
Says the season.

Midnight!
Kissed with flame!
See! See!
My love is darkness!”

Would love to hear your thoughts on the place in between!

sinking into essential

Last week was an amazingly full week. It was filled with lots of intentional conversation in a variety of venues and kept me away from much writing or blogging. Yesterday was spent resting and snuggled up in my studio most of the day reading and listening to the rain fall. I have been trying to capture the essence of these days without much success. The theme of lent flows in and out of my brain. Words from blogger friends help coalesce a few thoughts. Here is a response I wrote to Christine at Abbey of the Arts:

"I feel like I am in this flow of living into and letting go. Falling in the dirt and letting that be good. Jan Richardson’s words regarding paradox and mystery resonate deeply with me…”The cure for mystery? More mystery. The cure for paradox? More paradox.” Big doses of both are being served up for my Lenten (life) experience. Lent is definitely not for sissies!!! "

And so, I sit at the end of a restful weekend attempting to go with the flow and not get too much dirt in my teeth. I find myself pondering what is essential? The past couple of days, I have captured a few thoughts on paper, listened to the rain of yesterday, walked in the sunshine of today, answered some e-mails, played around on Facebook, shared Sabbath wine with friends, listened to lots of music, napped and done a little organizing on my memoir. I also read some Thomas Merton and here is what he offers tonight:

“God cannot be found by weighing the present against the future or the past, but only by sinking into the heart of the present as it is.”

Ahhh, “sinking into the heart of the present” that seems to identify essential for me. How about you? What was essential in your weekend? What is essential in your now?

lenten fire

Simmering around the edges, I am reminded often of the fire in my belly that wants to dominate this season of my life. Jan Richardson’s post spoke to me this morning as she wrote of the path where our humanity and the divine meet in fullness. New decisions face me daily which is very exciting…and a little scary ☺.

The image of fire burns like a slow ember at times and then it seems to burst into full flame. This happened to me this morning as I was pondering the path of which Richardson speaks. It came in the reading of one of my favorite bloggers, Barbara at Barefoot toward the Light. I hope you will check out both of these posts, but for now I share my fire with you.

There is nothing to be found,
even if I search.
There is nothing to do but
to warm myself on my own.
There is nothing to do
but to burn my own body
and light the place around me.

--Jukichi Yagi (1898-1927)

So, what lights your fire? Do you consider where your path is leading? Have you claimed an intention for the year? The season? The day? Whatever it is, I hope you will feel the warmth of your own light. If that’s not possible right now, I hope you will warm yourself here. ☺

photo from paris 3.08

all are welcome at the table...sort of

Sitting in the lovely chapel listening to the priest read scripture about all being welcome at the table of God, I felt warm and at home. My eyes followed along with the bulletin to this place:

"Everyone is invited to come forward today. If you are in a communion of faith practice with the Catholic Church, come forward in the usual way to receive the Sacred Bread. If you are a guest, you bless this assembly with your presence. We wish to bless you in return. When you come to the minister, place your hand over your heart to indicate that you wish a blessing." (emphasis my own)

A blessing, but no elements. My heart and thoughts stopped to consider those words. The table is open to everyone and for everyone except when it's not. I was reminded of a child looking through a bakery window at warm fresh bread and delectable pastries– an urchin child hungering for sustenance who will be offered a kind pat on the head rather than a belly-filling meal.

Fortunately, I am not an urchin child. I am a child of God (just like you), well-loved who knows that Mother (or Father) God has fed me well and received me as whole. She will wipe the hunger away and I am no less special because the priest would not put the wafer on my tongue or the wine to my lips. Experiencing my inner smile, I laugh at the silliness of humans thinking they can control where or how God gets doled out. Hmmmm...

A few more thoughts about 'helping out God' can be found at Dreams and Visions.

Lastly, I realize that many of my readers come from a Catholic tradition. Please understand it is not my intent to malign any tradition, but rather to consider the impact of exclusionary rites. I hope all might ponder this alongside me. The service was quite lovely and the presence of God was palpable. I was indeed blessed - elements or not. And, this vision of standing outside the bakery did leave me feeling set aside and not so very welcome.

I wonder where in my life I leave others standing outside the bakery window. Again, I invite you to ponder this alongside me.

teddy bear table taken in Paris 3.08

the bare essentials

Prompted by yesterday's post at Abbey of the Arts I found myself pondering these words: what does it look like to strip down and surrender the unessential? What is essential? A modicum of food – water to keep me hydrated – clothing to cover my back – certainly not the closet full of items that threatens to explode into my bedroom – shoes strewn around the perimeter. I sit amid pillows, books, candles, computer, and music.

What do I really need? What is essential? The answer comes and it is this: Space and time with God. For me that includes a pen and paper to capture my thoughts. What if I let go of even that desire (to capture my thoughts)? Do I not always have them with me?

What is essential in this life? I keep thinking of the tools – the things – that help me find – meet – uncover my listening ears to experience God. I think of a monk’s quarters. Simple and sparse. A robe; sandals; a notebook and pen. Perhaps a candle to light the dark. The barest of meals served on a single tin tray and cup. If the monk is really lucky, there will be a window that overlooks the garden. With that window, the abundance expands exponentially with a view into the outside world. Yes. God is within and God is in nature - in the eyes of others - in the touch of communion.

What is essential? Must we swallow the elements of communion to be blessed or can we know deep in our being that they are but a symbol and we know what they represent.

Again, what is essential? The question frightens me a little and reminds me of my early days with my not-quite-yet husband when I feared he would announce we were chucking all of our belongings and moving to the mission field. I did not want to let go of my life. I still don’t want to let go of my things, but I feel like I could. I seem to know a bit more of what would be essential for me. I return to the thoughts of a modicum of food and water – some clothing to cover my body – pen and paper – and if I’m really lucky, a window to the outside world. (Even that assumes I have a roof over my head, and, yes, the roof is indeed a luxury.)

So, how will I hold this stripped down image as I go through these days of Lent? What is essential?

Thanks, Christine for the prompt!

photos from Paris 3.08