meeting liberty

It is a picture perfect fall day here in the Pacific Northwest. The sun is shining. The leaves are just starting to turn and the air has that wonderful little nip to it. Over the past several months I have turned into a “destination” walker which means I am usually on my way to an appointment or errand during my morning stroll. This morning it was a visit to the chiropractor. I realized as I walked that I have been avoiding my camera lately—ever since I requested and received Photoshop Elements for my birthday.

This morning, however, I decided to push past my hesitancy and take some photos with the hope of spending time immersed in learning at least how to crop and tune my photos up a bit. Alas, the camera rebelled and the battery died in the midst of the very first photo. So, I was left with only my photographic memory to capture the details of the day.

On my return home, I found myself walking through the park behind an older gentlemen and his golden retriever. I picked up the pace to catch up with them, because I cannot bypass the opportunity to receive a little “golden” love since the death of Curry. My selfish tendencies were in high gear and this was all about me getting what I needed this morning.

I politely asked if I could love on his dog for a minute and then felt like I had come face to face with the reincarnation of my old sweet guy. “He’s thirteen,” the owner announced. A lump in my throat, I confessed that we had just lost our 13-year-old golden. What ensued was a gentle and kind retelling of the last days and moments of Curry’s life. The owner asked me questions like “How did you know when it was time?” “Was it peaceful?” “Did he suffer?” Somewhere in the conversation, I realized that this moment was not just for me. Liberty’s (the dog) owner was entering his own process of letting go and had needed some reassurance that they would get through it. I am so grateful I was there to be that reassurance.

Much of this meeting reminds me of my recent post, “life cycles.” There was something in this encounter that spoke deeply of emptying and filling. I have not decided yet how the process transpired. Who was filled and who was emptied? Does it even matter? What I do know is that I followed my heart seeking what I needed in the moment to help me with my own grieving process and in the midst I met another person who had his own sorrow to share. Oddly, both of us walked away comforted. I will remember Liberty and his owner for quite some time. At first site Liberty appeared to be the ghost of Curry, but now I am pretty sure he was an angel. Dang, I wish I had my camera! ☺

lectio divina

As I begin to read the new book, Lectio Divina, I find that an air of familiarity surrounds me. “This is what I do,” my internal voice says. And then the ego side pipes up and says, “Oh you think you know everything. Don’t you see how that closes the door to possibility?” It is a wonder that I can even get past the first page as my inner dialogue carries on a full-blown conversation! And then I read the words “hold this lightly.” Ahhhh, I can feel a sense of peace come over me for a moment, and then I am reminded of the opposite of holding lightly. It is grasping.

Buddhism speaks of the grasping mind and how it keeps us from peace and serenity. When we grasp our desires strongly, there is a driven quality that arises. Anxiety, jealousy, rigidity and insecurity all become stronger. So, as I consider lectio divina (an ancient prayer form which translates as ‘holy reading’) I wonder how I can hold lightly to the structure. How can I keep myself free of the arrogant sense of knowing and therefore leave myself open to new possibilities? Paintner and Wynkoop speak of a flowing rhythm and I wonder how this translates into my current practice of prayer.

I read. Contemplate. Meditate. Act. It flows. I move. I listen. I find myself open to possibility. Open to hearing. Do I express my gratitude? Do I allow myself to sit with God—resting in holy presence? The piece that has been missing for me recently is Scripture. I have chosen to use other “texts”: music, nature, blogs, poetry and sacred readings. Do I attend them with holy listening? Am I open to what they say? I am formed and informed through the listening. I often do not remember details, but rather have an overall sense of what I have taken in. I have breathed the experience (the text) in and let it permeate my being.

I hear the voice of arrogance once again in my head. “You think you are so special.” Yikes! Hold lightly. Do not grasp. Be grateful. Thankful to be able to breathe in and out. It is a great paradox. Letting go so the words may come. Losing my life so I may find it. Letting go to receive. Stop moving so I can just be.

Do you have these battles of the mind? Does your ego strive to overcome your stillness? Where do you find yourself grasping? Where do you need to let go or show gratitude? What does your 'holy reading' look like?

collage by lucy

hijacked

“It’s as if the whole world hijacked Sammy’s special day. And believe me, as his father? That really pisses me off.” --Peggy Sarjeant

So, here I sit on the eve of 9-11, as it has come to be called, and consider what one does when their birthday has been “hijacked”. What do you do when the date of your birth is associated with pain and mourning for the country…for the whole world even? When celebrating seems like heresy? When people hear your birth date and groan? When they say, “Oh, I could never forget that birthday” and then they do.

My friend & talented writer, Peggy, wrote a very poignant story a few years ago about Sammy—a 7 year old who doesn’t understand why he can’t have cupcakes at school on his birthday of September 11. It is a story to which I can totally relate, because if you haven’t figured it out…my birthday is 9-11 ☺.

I struggle a little with what to write here. The therapist in me has lots of deep analysis of what this all means. The magical thinking of a child and my own personal ego kick into play and say the Twin Towers crashed because of me. Yikes! Do other people’s minds go off in crazy directions like that? Add to this the fact that my father died in a truck accident the day after my 19th birthday and you have a whole lot of crashing going on around my special day. So, it’s no wonder I have some pretty strong feelings surrounding these days! (Fortunately I have amazing support & years of therapy under my belt or I could really be “off to the races” on this one! ☺)

There is so much “stuff” that surrounds our birthdays anyway. People seem to either love birthdays, hate them or pretend that they do neither. If you really think about it, however, doesn’t the kid in each of us really appreciate a little celebration? A little recognition? (And, in case, you are shaking your head and saying, “Nope. Not me.” The therapist in me would challenge you to ask yourself why you feel that way ☺. What kind of “stuff” surrounds your birthday?) So, why do I write this post? It is not for a pity party, because I don’t feel pitiful. Maybe it is just my own way to say, “Happy Birthday” to myself and to even agree with Sammy’s dad that yeah, even though the Twin Towers did not crash to punish me, it “really pisses me off” that they had to crash at all, much less on MY day!

9-11 is a day of notoriety and in my own sweet selfish Lucy way, I want it to be all about me. However, the more compassionate and thoughtful Me commiserates with our country and grieves the tragedy that this day remembers. (The Painted Painted Prayerbook had a thoughtful post earlier this week which you might enjoy.)

I am very blessed to have a wonderful group of supportive friends who have chosen to celebrate 9-11 a couple of ways. They have set the goal of each home and business displaying a flag tomorrow to represent unity. In addition, they have committed to light a birthday candle for yours truly. I hope you will consider doing the same. I plan to ☺.

p.s. I hope you will come back tomorrow and wish me a real "Happy Birthday"!

Off to the Races

Fall has always been more a time of new beginning for me than January 1. Maybe it is because so much of my life has revolved around the school year—first my own, then my children’s & now my own again as I return to my work at a graduate school. Today I woke up early with my mind racing and so much to consider. I really hate that feeling. I have schedules to make. Meetings to attend. Will yoga class help or squeeze my time too much today? Should I get up or have a little more needed rest? But my mind races.

I have a new schedule. Two groups of students to meet with individually (17 in all—double what I have done in the past). My birthday is this week. What shall I do for that? I have two workshops in the next two weeks. There are two soccer teams to put on my calendar. The high school calendar arrived yesterday with more dates to fill. My husband is confirming his “away” dates. My daughter has a complicated schedule that I often need to be involved in. I still miss my dog.

Time seems to be filling up. Precious time. Precious space that I cherish. And I cherish the moments that I spend doing the things I love. Being with friends. Being with family. Being with students. All good stuff, you know? I am someone who cherishes solitude AND I am energized by my work. I consider myself a balanced person. I find myself irritated with people who say, “I don’t have time for…solitude, writing, play, you fill in the blank.” And here I sit with my heart pounding and my mind racing because my list is so full.

And then I have to smile, because God is so great. I opened up my morning devotional and today’s title was “Too Full”. Hmmm. Sounds like I’m not alone ☺. And that really irritates me, because today I don’t want to be the cliché. I don’t want to be like everybody else. I don’t want to be ‘too full’ of stuff! I want my nice little serene existence. Ha!

This definitely feels like a season. It all comes back to me now. It is the beginning of the school year with checks to write and calendars to coordinate. It is a new beginning and I love new beginnings. So, for now I think I will breathe deeply, make a list of things that must be done. Attempt to enjoy this season rather than just get through it. I am grateful. I am grateful for so much and even if I find just 10 minutes for solitude today, it will be enough. I will be enough. Amen.

This is why I love writing…I have just talked myself down from the ledge and remembered all of those little spaces of quiet and serenity I have reserved for myself (even if they only exist in my mind). I have remembered to be grateful. I have found a little place to stop the ‘racing.’ Now if I can just keep my mind from firing the starter gun again! ☺

Not today...

"It's very helpful to realize that the emotions we have, the negativity and the positivity, are exactly what we need to be fully human, fully awake, fully alive." Pema Chodron

Oh man, the river of emotions that has been running through me over the last few days! I had hoped today to write more generically about “the river” as it is something so universal and intriguing to me. I see this river everywhere in people I meet and pass on the streets. It is a great topic and one I will return to...But not today.

Arising in the morning I look out the door to see if Curry slept outside. I walk into the house at the end of the day expecting to be greeted. I look in the backyard over the fence and hope to see that slobbery smile. I miss my old yellow dog. It is too much AND it is not.

I know it was time, I tell myself. The house will stay cleaner now ☺. I have slowly started to put away his things: bowls and medicine moved downstairs, but not totally disposed. I will remove a rug today that we used to keep him from slipping on the hard wood floors. My husband cannot bring himself to scoop the last bits of poop in the yard. A bag sits stuffed in the Adirondack chair—waiting. “I don’t want to do it,” he says. It is not the complaining, “I don’t wanna,” but one filled with sadness that this will be the last time.

So, no more poop scooping, no more balls of fur throughout the house, no more slobber on the walls. When will I clean the kitchen door? The brown smudge where Curry used his nose to push it open and let himself in? Not today. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe after I have looked for him on the rug or after I have noticed he is not on the back porch and my heart has stopped a little because I know he won’t be there. It all happens in less than a second, I think, maybe a couple of seconds, but the memory, the routine, the pattern of our life is still there.

Oh, it is too much AND of course, it is not. I will go on living. Maybe some day I will allow another furry creature to enter my heart, but not today. Today I will allow myself to feel all of the feelings. I will go about my routine. I will send my daughter off to her first day of 10th grade. I will enjoy the sunshine that is here. I will take my walk and go to my dance class. I will dance for Curry and for me.

I know he will slowly start to take up less space in my thoughts. Less space on this blog. But not today.

p.s. The “river of feelings” started flowing today as I read sweet Riley’s post and the subsequent comment by Geezer Dude. So, check it out if you so desire ☺.