Happy to be an Outcast

(Abba Nilus) said, “Happy is the monk who thinks he is the outcast of all.” (Nilus 8)

“Both the inner monk and inner artist are border-dwellers. Neither fit neatly into mainstream society as they both call us to new ways of being and seeing. The monk calls the world to spaciousness and presence rather than rushing and productivity. The monk takes the hard and demanding path of inner work and growth when the world constantly offers possible ways to numb us from these struggles.” - Christine Valters Paintner

Living on the edges while fully participating in life is a paradoxical way of being. For some reason I am reminded of the movie “Field of Dreams” where the principle character, Ray, played by Kevin Costner received the message, “If you build it, they will come.” This prompted Ray to step out of the normal paradigm of life into something that appeared crazy to the world around him. His rewards were more magnificent than anything he could have dreamed.

My life has turned into a field of dreams. It happens by living on the edges moment by moment. Stopping to smell the roses. Being in awe of the fresh green sprouts pushing through the earth. Cherry blossoms burst into full bloom and take my breath away. My world continues to expand as I follow my heart’s desire.

Living life as an “outcast” is exhilarating (while also holding moments of isolation). At a time when my peers are extolling the woes of aging, I’m in the best overall health of my life. My passport acquired in 2003 is annually adding new countries – sometimes as a woman traveling alone (gasp). I started graduate school at 47. Skydived at 49. I’ve been known to break into fits of uncontrollable laughter for no apparent reason or run through a public fountain in the midst of gleeful children. I am more in touch with God/Spirit/Life than ever before even though I “left the church” years ago. My children are quite “nontraditional” and still I’m a very proud mama.

The top comes down in my convertible if the temperature breaks 45F and it’s a particularly sunny winter day. I say 'No' at times when others expect me to say 'Yes'. A pink tutu topped my Christmas list last year. Crows call me Magic. Friends call me Crazy. I call myself Brilliant. (Audacious, huh?)

My cat, Aslan, can occupy my attention for hours by purring in my lap or doing circus tricks with my spouse. Bella, my desert ship, always makes me smile even though she snarled at me during her break. (I might have done the same thing.) My world is driven by Spirit. Refining and expanding lead my way, because even though what I have in this moment is Enough, I know abundance is my friend and thoughts of scarcity keep me limited.

I offer gratitude for my trials and rejoice in new opportunities to learn. I rage & scream & bellow at injustice, and then I let it go. I don’t “play nice” anymore. Nice kept me locked up like a prisoner for too many years. I am kind and I am free. Sanity is boring. Kookiness means loving life as it is. If this is living on the edges – it rocks!!!

Where do you long to break free and live on the edges? Invite your inner monk and artist to guide you toward the border. Perhaps you're already there. Woohoo! Let's play!!

Bella © 2010

Drafty Window - Part 2

"Someone touched me; I know that power has gone out from me." - Luke 8:46

In my last post, I wrote about my drafty window and today the conversation continues. As I ponder the warm air seeping out my window, I'm reminded of Jesus' story when he felt his power leave him as the woman in need of healing touched his garment. He said, "Someone has touched me." Is this how I feel as I'm aware of others' pain? Does compassionate power flow out to meet others' needs? Do I offer it willingly or is it sucked out unknowingly? Is warm air drawn out with the draft or does cold air come pouring through the window? How does another's hurt blow through the crack in my heart?

Compassionate hearts are at risk of being drained of their own life. Sacrificial giving can end in death. So, today I ponder the balance between offering myself in service of others and protecting my warmth and health enough to have something left to give. It's like the leaky window. Do I want to plug the cracks so the cold can't get in? If I do, does this mean my warmth will no longer flow out?

How much does a number weigh?

“How old would you be if you didn’t know how old you are?” Leroy (Satchel) Page

What’s in a number? In my "former" life I was an accountant surrounded by numbers day and night. Combine a conservative Christian, basically fundamental background with a profession where everything balances neatly and you don't have much room to consider the unknown. Interesting, huh? Now the "new me" finds myself living in a more mysterious, less objective, certainly not as concrete existence with LOTs of space allowed.... and still I find numbers can carry their own weight.

As I mentioned here, I’ve been working with a life coach whose specialty is weight issues. Professionally speaking, however, I must remind myself that the presenting issue is rarely the real issue. Participating via supportive group sessions and online discussions, I quickly found myself feeling fabulous, fit and lighter in every sense of the word. So, one day while at the gym, I decided it was time to step on the scales - fully expecting the number to reflect this supremely satisfied me. As I pushed the little weight counter over to the balance point, I was horrified (and deeply disappointed) to find there was NO movement since the last time I weighed several weeks before. (Gasp!!) What’s a girl to do? Let a piece of metal take away my mellow? I almost let the scales win, but quickly realized I much prefer feeling light & easy rather than heavy-laden with the makings of my own mind. Thanks to the great support of other fabulous women, I rallied and didn’t let myself go into a tail spin. But, oh my, the power of that silly number!!

Now while I could expound for hours on the subject of weight and body image, I wanted to relay another experience with numbers I had today. Per my last post, I spent the majority of two full days in my closets – sorting, pitching, and recycling those things that no longer serve me well. If I don’t love it or have an immediate functional use for it, out the door it went. I saved my personal closet for last as I had cleaned it only a couple of months ago, but this time I was ruthless. I dug into corners that haven’t been seen in MANY years. I found jewelry, I’d forgotten I lost. I tried on pants and skirts that have become too large for my slimmer self. I vacuumed and dusted nooks and crannies – organized necklaces and scarves and earrings – pitching anything without a mate and forgetting my previous motto, ‘Well it might turn up... (or) I might need this...’

In this heroic effort, I saved the cream of the crop to take to the resale shop down in the village. Included in the two bursting bags were jewelry pieces, strappy sandals, a practically new leather coat and a variety of well-made clothes I hate to think how much their original cost. Dressed in a sassy skirt having just come from work, I loaded up the bags and went to make my fortune in resale. I patiently waited as the young twenty-something clerk plucked through my things, making what I thought were two piles and feeling assured the larger pile was definitely the ‘keeper’. She finally finished and with a perky smile and polished tone announced, “We’ve decided to keep three pieces today, so the cash available to you is $9.45.” $9.45?!?!?!? Are you kidding me? I spent two days cleaning and sorting, saved my best stuff for you and all that’s worth $9.45? These last words, of course, spoken only in my mind.

Numbers. What’s a girl to do? Throw a fit? Cry? Devalue the super light feeling I felt after clearing away all that clutter? Tempting, but No Way!! A little convertible time, some good music and a trip to the charity center to drop off my very valuable donations is helping lift the power of this particular number ☺. Oh my, I do continue to learn so much about myself. I noticed that I wanted to drive immediately to the bakery or the smoothie store and sooth my wounded little pride. My inner whiner was sulking big time! “Waaahhh. They didn’t want our stuff.”
“Thanks, kid.” I gently consoled. “But I'm not buying into the whining this time. Numbers are just numbers… and we get to decide the weight we want to give them.”

So, that’s my current numbers game. Things don't always add up so neatly and the mystery continues. I wonder how much a heavy attitude weighs? Next up in the potentially impacting numbers category? My birthday. Hmmm…. How old would I be if I didn’t know how old I am?

I'm a Guest Blogger - Check it out!!

Life is full of such grandness and delight, I hardly know where to begin. For two days now the classic song by Petula Clark has been rolling through my head while I’m “Feeling Groovy.” ☺ Abundance rules with lots of sunshine, exciting adventures, lazy days and more.
Feeling Groovy pretty much sums it up!

Today, I would like to introduce you to a marvelous woman who has been part of all this groovyness with her wonderful work that's been impacting my life over the last seven weeks. Tonya Leigh is one of those women I feel like I’ve known all my life even though we’ve never met in person. On some what of a whim I signed up for her Slim, Chic, Savvy program with hopes of deepening my own awareness around food and body image, as well as exploring new ways to relate to others struggling with their own issues. What I’ve found is a soul sister who’s taken the principles I value in life and translated them into a program for deepening awareness of not only food and weight issues, but one focused on authentic living through pleasure and delight. (Is there really any other way!?!?)

It is my honor to be a guest blogger at Just B Living today, so without further adieu, I invite you to go over and take a peak into today’s offering, Do Slim, Chic, Savvy Girls Play Laser Tag? (The post includes more adventures as a tourist in my own town with my buddy, Seamus.) Enjoy!

While you’re there be sure to sign up for Tonya’s Slim, Chic, Savvy Manifesto. You won’t be sorry!!!

(btw - don't forget to let me know what you think about the guest post ☺.)

seamus & lucy Seattle Center - 7.10

Pressing the Sanity Button

Returning home from a couple of weeks of travel and even more of summer activities that have kept me away from the computer, I turned to my blog reader, noted the number of unread posts, hyperventilated for a moment and then pressed "mark all read." Relief ensued, but not so fully that I wanted to leave my action unmarked.

I hate to miss out on the life events and words others so carefully craft and share at their own blog sites. However - I must continue to practice maintaining personal sanity, and pressing "mark all read" was the answer today.

I know you will be gracious with my action, and I invite you to leave me a comment and link if there's something you're particularly proud of or think lucy really needs to know!!

Do tell - What does your sanity button look like?

©h3images photo - Maui, 2010