Internal or External?

Pondering. Resting. Sleeping. Reading. Considering others. Caring for myself. All of these things seem to be the rhythm of my Lenten days. An internal air continues to hover around me and as I just responded to a lovely post at Barefoot Toward the Light, I realize this quiet space feels just right for now. Different for me, but somehow just right.

It has been a simple weekend filled with walks and lots of rest. I've taken care of the few "have to's" on my list and spent the rest of the time tending to relationship - sometimes with my family, often with God, always with me. It feels necessary and good.

In the midst of the internal space, I also received two very outward reminders of my presence in the world which were delightful indeed. Yesterday, I received my very own copy of Awakening the Creative Spirit - a fantastic new book by Christine Paintner and Betsey Beckman, two of my dear friends and colleagues. I highly recommend it for anyone interested in the arts and becoming "fully awake" as today's Lenten verse* highlights. The exciting news for me is that I am the co-writer of Chapter 15 on "Arts-Centered Supervision". You can only imagine my delight to see my authorship officially acknowledged on page 197 (as well as a few other places throughout the book!)

The other 'outward reminder' can be found in visual form where you catch a glimpse of me as spiritual director in this PBS episode on religion. I show up around minute two with my most compassionate face and listening ears. Don't blink or you'll miss my adult TV debut! Seriously, it's a great video covering the topic of spiritual direction. I hope you'll go take a peak!!

OK, that's all I have to share for now. Time to huddle back up with hot tea and my Kindle!

P.S. I'd love to know how your Lenten season is progressing.

*Luke 9:28-36

Shilshole Sailboats - 2.20.10 © lucy

Spirit like water...

"Spirit like water
is a source of life."

--Mark Nepo

Sometimes I wonder if I shared everything that transpires in my day and mind whether or not people might think I was going a little crazy. In mental health, it is said if you at least think you're a little nuts, it is a sign of sanity - so at least I have that going for me.

The truth is I feel so connected to the Universe that I have moments when I wonder which realm I am operating in. This time of year in particular is designated as a very "thin" time when the veil between the known and unknown worlds dissipates. My air was already pretty thin, so my ancestral mind that lies just below consciousness has kicked into high gear. For example...

During and since I went to Ireland, I have been experiencing lots of technicolor dreams. When I am disciplined enough to awaken, I can capture them on paper before I return to sleep. Last night, I was vividly dreaming and was making a SoulCollage® card in my sleep (not literally), BUT... when I awakened this morning, the materials had already been gathered to create the card I dreamed. (I keep a stack of images that attract my attention nearby.) I was dreaming of creating a Source card which symbolizes the Oneness of All Things. In reality no image is suitable for the Source for it is without form. (Some people refer to this as their God card.) Nevertheless, swirls continued to follow me throughout my dreams as they have for years in various shapes, sizes and forms, so I laid out the images on my desk and sat down for some quiet meditation. It was then that Nepo's quote greeted me. "Spirit like water is the source of life." Key word - Source. Key images - Water. Before me lay my floating, swirling water-filled card I was considering naming "Source."

Am I making this up? No. Had I read those words before? Maybe. Had I already seen the images? Yes. Did they all come together in one serendipitous moment? Absolutely. Does this make me crazy? Nah, I don't think so. Is it just coincidence? Nope, don't think that either. This, I believe, is part of the great mystery of being alive. It is bigger than anything we can possibly imagine AND it meets us in the everyday of our lives, when we allow ourselves to open up.

So, that's how my day started. Not particularly unusual for me. How about for you? Any encounters with serendipity, synchronicity, thin air or the like lately? Please share... it's much more fun to be a little crazy with friends, isn't it?

"source" - created by lucy 11.08.09

serendipity? synchronicity? spirituality?

So, this is kind of how my life goes. Following yesterday's post, this showed up in my inbox this morning. Hmmmm.

Today's thought from Hazelden is:

Saying No

For many of us, the most difficult word to say is one of the shortest and easiest in the vocabulary: No. Go ahead, say it aloud: No.

No - simple to pronounce, hard to say. We’re afraid people won’t like us, or we feel guilty. We may believe that a “good” employee, child, parent, spouse, or Christian never says no.

The problem is, if we don’t learn to say no, we stop liking ourselves and the people we always try to please. We may even punish others out of resentment.

When do we say no? When no is what we really mean.

When we learn to say no, we stop lying. People can trust us, and we can trust ourselves. All sorts of good things happen when we start saying what we mean.

If we’re scared to say no, we can buy some time. We can take a break, rehearse the word, and go back and say no. We don’t have to offer long explanations for our decisions.

When we can say no, we can say yes to the good. Our no’s and our yes’s begin to be taken seriously. We gain control of ourselves. And we learn a secret: “No” isn’t really that hard to say.

Today, I will say no if that is what I mean.

You are reading from the book:

The Language of Letting Go by Melody Beattie

ashes and smudges

This morning my husband and I entered a church together for the second time in one week – not something we have done in nearly two years. Interfaith Community Church is simple and beautiful, reminiscent of a building you would see in a country pastoral setting rather than tucked amidst homes in an urban neighborhood. We could see the classic white steeple from a few blocks away. The sanctuary is two pews wide and about 12 rows deep. It is sparse with hard old pews and no flashy carpeting or stained glass windows. The thematic colors this morning were silvery sage with lilac ribbons wrapped around dried floral arrangements.

The room smelled of incense although for a moment upon entering, I asked my husband if it didn’t smell like marijuana ☺. A man of possibly 70 or 80 years of age handed us a bulletin and greeted us as we entered. I counted 12 people in total including the morning’s speakers. The room was to fill up to at least double that by the time the service began. Gong music played from a small stereo and candles were lit by the aging man and his spouse.

No one rushed over to greet us although several did nod their heads toward us in welcome. We were told more than once that every Sunday is unique and has its own theme. The service today was led by a woman who is a teacher of metaphysics and a Reiki master. She is very near my age and spent several years working in New Zealand and Australia while studying both Eastern and Western paths.

Her “sermon” began with the congregation performing the act of smudging to bring us into awareness of the room. We were asked during the process to consider where our minds were. Did we have judgments? Are we present in the room? Are we wondering what will come next? My mind went to my first “smudging” when we attended a parent workshop in Mexico. My thoughts mainly wondered what my husband was thinking about this church I had suggested. It was far from the traditional background with which we are more familiar.

Next we participated in a drumming exercise. I love drumming and while I brought my own drum, I chose to leave it in the car since I had no idea what to expect in this service. Hubby opted out of the drumming. He later explained that he wanted to just listen today. And so the morning went. It was filled with activities such as breath work (something I practice in yoga) and meditations, which I have done both on my own and in various workshops. All of the practices were activities in which I have found solace and clarity yet I have not necessarily placed them in the context of “church.” Hmmm…

This experience will take a little processing for me. Something seems to be stirring in me that begs for more community. I have become more and more comfortable with following the lead of my heart and coming to find that it usually trails to a pathway to God. In fact, most pathways lead to God when I listen closely. On Wednesday I received the mark of the ashes at a reasonably conservative church. God was there. Today, I received the smudge of the sage and cedar and listened to the rhythm of the drums. God was there. Like I said in my earlier writing, God just seems to keep getting bigger. This is already proving to be quite an interesting season of Lent and we're only five days in. Hmmmm...

vines, threes & serendipity???

It is gray this morning. I was expecting sunshine and it has not decided to arrive quite yet. There is a post bubbling around in my brain about roots and vines, but instead of letting the words flow out of my pen, I myself have remained rooted here in my cozy bed.

I sit here pondering about the serendipity of life. Is it God’s plan? Is it random energy or merely coincidence? Or is it something I make up in my brain to make sense out of things that otherwise might make no sense at all?

I wonder about the power of three’s and even where that idea even began. And lest you think I am on a total ramble, it is indeed the occurrence of three, serendipitous appearances of roots and vines that I am pondering. I hesitate in the writing, because words are not clearly forming yet the images stand bold in my mind and beg to be placed on paper and so I choose to give it a go.

Recently while having coffee with a dear friend, she began to relay an experience of her own. My friend has been experiencing a sense of flightiness and floating away and these senses have caused her some anxiety. In her story, she was seeking counsel and her adviser asked her to try and imagine herself as rooted to the ground with strong vines holding her in place. She has been curious about the imagery that was offered and was thus sharing it with me for my thoughts. While she spoke I tried to contain myself and continue to listen closely to her story. I myself was getting excited, because my heart did a little jump when she shared the imagery of the vines.

Why the ‘heart jump’? Well, just a few days earlier I was participating in an exercise called dynamic meditation where the goal is to exhaust the body and active thoughts so as to clear space to listen. (When I ‘clear space to listen’, it is my goal and hope to listen to God and I have found that God does indeed meet me in those spaces quite often.) Part of the exercise had us in an immobile state for 15 minutes. I must say it was quite painful physically and all my brain could do was attempt to figure out how much longer this would last and did not feel clear of thought at all!! ☺ However, when the music changed and we were given the opportunity to once again move, I found that my feet were planted to the ground. I could not move and actually had no desire to do the very thing I had been focusing on for the last 15 minutes.

As I stood there, a vision came into my mind of vines coming out of the ground and wrapping themselves around my right leg. They were beautiful like ivy and felt more akin to security than something binding or frightening. I stood there for a few moments and allowed myself to let the imagery sink in and then I physically reached down and gently unwound the vines so that I could move my legs and participate in the next part of the exercise. It was really a powerful experience on its own, and then to have my friend share virtually the same visual before hearing about my own was truly amazing. She and I both vowed to consider more what the imagery means for each of us.

The third instance came when I impulsively picked up (& bought) a book (Dare to Journey with Henri Nouwen) on my way out of the bookstore yesterday. Here is an excerpt from the first reflection:

“So we try to do more while our energies ebb away and we become like uprooted trees with our roots wildly groping for the sky. Thus we anxiously throw our arms toward heaven, praying for extra grace and special enabling, when instead we should be planted again in nourishing soil. That soil is not meant to make us do less, but to change our priorities so that we take time to be still. And in the stillness, find new strength and hope.” --Charles Ringma

So, there you have it. My little story of vines, threes and serendipity. I am still pondering what to make of it, but I must say the grounding feels quite nice. As always, thoughts and comments are welcomed. Peace. ☺