Creative Blogger Award

Christine at Abbey of the Arts was kind enough to present me with this blogging award. I was humbled and honored to not only receive the award, but to read her gracious comments about moi. So, it is with great pleasure that I participate in this fun little meme.

My instructions are to list 7 things that I love and then pass the award on to 7 people…tagging them and letting them know they won! You can copy the picture of the award and put it on your sidebar.

7 Things I love:

1. The smell of fresh rosemary on my hands. I am totally incapable of passing a rosemary bush without running my fingers along the leaves. The thought of that luxurious scent lingering on my hands throughout the day is impossible to resist! Can one be addicted to such a thing?

2. Watching my children sleep is one of my great joys in the world. When they were young, I adored holding them in my arms and feeling the weight of their sleepy surrender. Since they have now either met or surpassed me in size, I must settle for sitting by their bedside and watching the rise and fall of their breath.

3. Laughter – gut-wrenching, belly-shaking laughter. The kind of laughter that is contagious – like a wave gathering power from the bottom of the ocean floor, it tickles and teases and laps at the shore until finally the giggles swell and build until they peak like a 200-foot Tsunami and wash over everything & everyone in sight.

4. Being in the presence of another person when they have a light bulb moment - especially one that brings them a little closer to their own authentic self and thus closer to God. It is like the ringing of a bell in “It’s a Wonderful Life,” an angel has received their wings - or learned to fly a little more freely.

5. Paris. Need I say more? It was one year ago this week I said farewell to the City of Lights. So, here is a “subset” of 7 things I love about Paris. 1) Coming out of the Metro to the site of Notre Dame 2) café au lait and fresh croissant at Jean Millet 3) The Eiffel tower dancing in the dark next to lit up carrousels 4) L’aubergine et fromage patisserie eaten by the Seine 5) lyrical language 6) walking, walking, walking 7) the presence of God in the cathedrals and galleries.

6. My life. I actually sit around sometimes and giggle at the delight of my life. The friends that surround me. Family who puts up with my eccentricities, experiments and tempestuous times ☺. My continued awakening to God, art, myself and the world. (Methinks those things are not mutually exclusive.) The gift of awakening each day to wonders that I cannot begin to create before they happen.

7. Blog Comments. I know this may sound cliché or like a commercial, but I seriously and honestly love when people share their presence with me here. It is like smelling fresh rosemary, breathing together, sharing a giggle, witnessing a light bulb moment and strolling through the streets of Paris hand in hand.

Your presence truly adds to my life! That said, I am opting to not tag seven players but hope at least seven of you will choose to leave me a little comment here or let me know that you have chosen to play along with the meme. Also, if you feel so inclined, please give yourself the Kreativ Blogger award...you know you deserve it!!

Bon jour!

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

glimpses of the eternal

I just had one of those profound experiences that leaves me...well...a little shaken or possibly a little more awakened. Angels? God? What is this power that surrounds us in the world? Do our ancestors and those that have “crossed over” come back to visit? To remind us? Yesterday was the anniversary of my co-worker Allyson’s death. She would have been thirty-five years old on Friday. Yesterday as I was standing in the lobby of the school reading the memorial plaque for Allyson, I turned my head and saw her walking toward me. It really took me off guard for a moment until I realized it was another young woman who attends the school. I have seen her before and each time I was shaken as I thought it was Allyson. Is it coincidence that I saw her at that exact moment yesterday?

I had a similar occurrence happen to me on Monday in nearly the same place when a woman I have never seen before walked by and caught my eye. It jolted me because I felt that I knew her. Then when I looked again - and she continued to hold my gaze - I realized she looked very similar to my friend, Dawn who died of cancer a couple of years ago…So, back to this morning’s moment. I had just finished doing some morning readings and was copying off a document I did not want to forget. My Bible tipped open and there was the bulletin from Dawn’s memorial service. There were those eyes looking into mine that I had looked into on Monday. Inside the bulletin I noticed the exact date of her death, March 2, Monday’s date.

The enormity and the mystery of these two events brings tears to my eyes. They remind me of how little I (we) know about the mystery of the universe. I am humbled and awed by this being/energy/person I call God. He is not tangible and of course He is. I cannot see Her face and yet I see it every day. I cannot feel those arms around me and yet they are here now. The mystery is astonishing. My journey has only begun and yet I feel like it has already lasted an eternity.

If I were to go looking for Allyson or Dawn today, I probably would not find them. Is that how it is with God? My prayer is that during this season of Lent (this season of life) I will at least make room and be open to the possibility that God will show up. The truth is that it usually happens in the most unexpected of places like standing in the lobby of a busy school or shuffling around in the papers on my bed. May I be open to the mystery today – and tomorrow – and always. May you too.

I am curious, of course…have you had similar experiences of the eternal? Where do you see the face of God? How and when do you feel the arms around you?

photos taken @ musee d'orsay 3.08

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...