Ireland Bound

"In Ireland it is considered a 'soft day' when the drizzle and mist caress the earth. This softness often seeps into the soul, opening and inviting the heart to be present."

Six months ago I read those words in an invitation to pilgrimage from Spiritual Directors International. As I looked out my Seattle window onto a Northwest 'soft day', my heart responded with a resounding "yes." At the time, I had little knowledge of what any pilgrimage entailed. I just knew I had to go.

Details like time and money helped the naysayers try to convince me maybe the trip wasn't such a great idea. Then I sojourned to Houston for the SDI conference where I was helping my friend, Christine, man her booth for Abbey of the Arts. Angels had been busy at work before our arrival and the pilgrimage call spoke loud and clear as I realized our table sat less than two feet from the guides for the Celtic journey. By the end of the conference, we felt like old friends and, needless to say, I had paid my deposit and was setting a path for Ireland.

Tomorrow, I board a noon flight to Chicago and from there to Dublin - arriving at 8:30 a.m. (12:30 a.m. pst). My journey started long ago, but I (hopefully) depart with bags packed, passport in hand and a heart open for surprise.

My computer will not be traveling with me. I am taking only the essentials, however, in preparation for my trip I have created a series of posts to appear over the next several days outlining my itinerary. I started to say "where I am going," but that question remains to be answered. Please join me for the adventure and feel free to leave a comment or two in case my wireless service works and I take a peak. It would be wonderful to know you're along for the ride.

Sacred Sunday: Pondering Poetry

Thursday was National Poetry Day in the UK. Tess wrote a lovely post that has stayed with me most of today. Here was my response:

this is a very thought-provoking post for me. i do not remember lullaby’s ever being sung to me except in the recesses of my mind, so they must have come from somewhere. the poetry i remember from school was dissected and examined in such critical detail that i did not like it at all… and so, when i think of my favorite poets, the first ones that come to mind are the “ordinary” people. the ones i have witnessed create beauty from just a moment or two of solitude. i remember the first time i was prompted to write a poem since the painful time of elementary and middle-school rhyming agony. it was sitting in the midst of a group of women who i know now were anything but ordinary. when the words popped out of my mouth, they pulled a string on my heart and i was hooked. now i can visit the likes of oliver, neruda, levertov, rumi, hafiz, o’donohue, berry and others without dissecting them and looking for iambic pentameter and whatever. i can let the words wash over me like the songs they were created to be.

alas my poet’s heart was awakened by this post.

oh, and i am a sap for the love poems of elizabeth barrett browning.

How about you? Where and how (or does) poetry pull on the strings of your heart?

Hospitality, Abundance & Scarcity

It is a glorious, overcast & mellow Saturday morning at my house. As I scooted around and visited some of my favorite blog sites earlier, I found several connected themes arising: hospitality, abundance and scarcity. All over the web are wonderful dream boards prompted by Jamie Ridler Studios. They honor the harvest moon and speak of our connection to earth and its abundance.

Pausing at Country Parson, the theme of scarcity popped onto my list as I read his post, Don't Spoil Them. In a nutshell, the question I heard was “if we give too much to them, will there be enough left for us”? Yikes! is my inner response - which leads to the last theme of hospitality.

This premise actually began stirring yesterday as I read the wonderful words exploring Emily Dickinson found at The Feminist Shepherd. "The Savior's only signature to the Letter he wrote to all mankind, was, A Stranger and ye took me in." How often do we turn away from “the stranger” and manufacture walls between us and them?

The final post that got me going may seem an unlikely one, but it was Kate I’s request to ponder Coffee and Tea. Her lovely photo of teacups sent me back in time to the day my siblings and I cleared out our mother’s cupboards for the final time. Tucked way in the back was a collection of gorgeous cups and saucers that I didn’t know existed. My sister assured me that Mother had indeed collected teacups – a fact totally new to me.

The contrast of Kate’s words inviting the hospitality that is unique to sharing a warm beverage with a friend (or stranger) against my mother’s hiding of these beautiful treasures sent me first to my camera and next to my keypad. You see, I know my mother was saving those cups for a “special” time. I grew up with lots of lovely things surrounding me, but most of them were tucked away – unburned candles, lace tablecloths, unopened bottles of wine – reserved for just the right time. In this I see a mentality of scarcity and separation. Who? When? What day would ever be special enough to bring out these treasures?

The battle of scarcity and generosity is one that still rages within me. I must be mindful to be extravagant rather than stingy and greedy. Today, I proudly exhibit those teacups in my home. While I prefer a heftier mug for my warm beverages, I love the beauty of these delicate pieces of china. I burn new candles almost as soon as they arrive - sometimes on the altar I share only with God in my silent moments. Other times they light the way for guests arriving at my home. It has been hard to break a mentality of scarcity. But really, who is more special than the person nearest in the moment – even if it’s only me?

In the coming week, I shall carry these themes with me: hospitality, scarcity and abundance. Whether I am sharing a cup of tea with my kitty cat, being served on an airplane by a flight attendant or enjoying a pint in an Irish pub with old and newfound friends, I pray that hospitality will prevail - leading to abundance and shutting the door on the mentality of scarcity. Love, after all, is meant to be shared.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on hospitality, scarcity and abundance as we enter the fall season here in the northern hemisphere. Perhaps today you will break out that special chocolate, use a quilt that has been tucked away or share a cup of coffee with a stranger. The possibilities are abundant!

mother's teacups 10.10.09

Labyrinth of Life

“Furthermore, we have not even to risk the adventure alone, for the heroes of all time have gone before us. The labyrinth is thoroughly known. We have only to follow the thread of the hero path, and where we had thought to find an abomination, we shall find a god. And where we had thought to slay another, we shall slay ourselves. Where we had thought to travel outward, we will come to the center of our own existence. And where we had thought to be alone, we will be with all the world.” -- Joseph Campbell

The image of the labyrinth is one of a journey both inward and outward. It appears to meander and as with most journeys in life it is not linear. Lately, I seem to find the theme of pilgrimage everywhere. Part of it is that I have surrounded myself with books on the topic to help prepare for my own journey next week to Ireland. However, even as I am entering into those texts, I find how they overlay with my daily life and how I walk the path of pilgrimage each day.

Recently I was asked by my therapist (yes, I go to therapy and spiritual direction) whether or not I often ritualize things. My initial reaction was “no” and then I realized that ritualizing or re-creating experiences is what I do to make meaning. The therapist was referring to a recent event I relayed about visiting my parent’s grave in Oklahoma. It was a surreal and impacting event. As I sat between my parents’ gravesites, I listened to the silence around me and was gently led through a process of ritual that led to new healing in my relationship with my parents. It was a time of journeying inward to see what needed tending. I could not have planned it or if I had, I am certain the outcome would not have been the same. Nevertheless, I chose to enter the labyrinth of my childhood and was surprised by the healing that took place through a reenactment (ritualizing) of another time in space.

Last weekend, I led the Returning Home to Yourself workshop. It was yet another holy time. Looking back, I noticed how I had prepared and planned each exercise in great detail and with loving care. I was ready for the journey. Once it arrived, however, I found that by holding lightly to how I thought the group might respond and letting go of any perceived outcomes, the experience became richer than anything I might have imagined. A universal holiness came over the room as we engaged in ritual created in the moment. I stood in the center of our own labyrinth and let the spirit of God meet me there. In doing so, our group became one and more healing occurred.

In my last post, I asked the question, “How do you prepare for pilgrimage?” I am learning how it is I prepare and for today I believe this is my modus operandum: I do my homework, set aside time and space, lay the groundwork and then let go of everything I just did. In other words, I get out of my own way. Expectations and what if’s vanish into thin air and God moves in and creates something greater than I could possibly imagine. Sunrise Sister writes of a similar experience while visiting the holy land of Ephesus and Rebecca shares the same as she enters quiet time in her own home.

Today my pilgrimage has included an unexpected visitor early in the morning. Followed by the welcoming of a furry friend to visit for a few days. Sunshine. Blue skies and even a short nap before heading to work this afternoon. This evening, my family will gather to celebrate my daughter’s 17th birthday. All of these things make up the journey of a lifetime right here in my own backyard. They are the labyrinth I enter into and out of each day. They are where I meet the world and where God meets me. How can I possibly prepare? My only hope is that I be ready when the moments come.

How do you prepare for pilgrimage?

“Our souls rise up from our earth like Jacob waking from his dream and exclaiming “Truly God is in this place and I knew it not!” God becomes the only reality, in whom all other reality takes its proper place – and falls into insignificance.” Thomas Merton

Most days I want to pinch myself and ask, Is this my life? It is full and vibrant. Steady and (some would say) boring. I travel. I work. I rest. I eat and sleep and play. I experience ups and downs and get lost along the way. I go away and return again. I live in the light and dwell in the shadow. It is special and extraordinary and most often rather ordinary. Still...

Truly God is in this place. Surely I have awakened from a night – from a lifetime – of wrestling. I am so awake I can hardly believe it. The path of life beckons each day and I am excited. I am preparing to go on a pilgrimage to Ireland. I stop to realize, it is not about the destination. Life is a pilgrimage – a journey each day.

When I listen closely, I understand. I am awake and 'surely God is in this place and I knew it not.' Last week I went to Oklahoma City for a few days. I visited my childhood home and as I was preparing to leave, my friend said, “Now, onto the real adventure.” She meant Ireland, of course. Internally I felt a resounding “No!” Every day is an adventure. Sometimes we go more distant places and other times we don’t even leave home.

My trip to OKC was an exciting adventure. I loved it and I loved yesterday spent discovering my 'normal' surroundings... Getting up early knowing I could rest later in the day. What a gift to have a pilgrimage throughout an “ordinary” day. Not knowing what is around the next corner. A lovely meal – two actually – cooked by the side of the man I love. My daughter opening up and pouring out her frustrations – sharing her tears over a movie – laughing unabashedly. It is a gift witnessing the paradox that is a teenage woman. The day continued… Lying on the couch with a purring fluff-ball of a cat. Visiting an art gallery and weeping over the words of an artist. How can anyone say yesterday was not a pilgrimage – not a time of meaning?

I am looking forward to Ireland and gently preparing for my time there. Many have asked “why are you going?” and I find myself pondering, What do I want from my time in Ireland?

I want to place my toes in the cool morning dew – in the layers and layers of green rolling hills. I want to stand beside the ancient rocks and feel the breeze of the eternal wash over me. I want to stand on a cliff over the crashing sea and feel as if I could leap and take flight. I want to sit in a pub and listen to the strains of Irish song. I want to drink a pint or two or three and laugh until my side aches with friends I have not yet made and those I already adore. I want to sit in the quiet of a cathedral and listen to the silence. I want to drive in the country and get lost knowing I am only lost if I have let go of the hand of God. I want to leave room for surprise – lots of surprise!

I want to prepare, but I don’t want to schedule surprise out. Leaving room – making space. Surely God is in this place. Surely each day is a pilgrimage unto itself. How do you prepare for pilgrimage? Where will you journey today?