epiphany of god

“The epiphany of God in time can come to us at any moment, anywhere, whether we are praying or not. It can come at work, on the road, in any situation, because it is a deep and secret movement of the divine spirit within our own, the felt sense of God’s own self-discovery in us.” from Thomas Merton – A Book of Hours

Some days are just like that. God everywhere. Yesterday was one of those days beginning with a brilliant pink sky outside my window and the words of Thomas Merton greeting me in the morning.

Invited to visit a friend at a new yoga class, I opted to hop on my scooter (the first time in many many months) and ride the mile and a half to class. The teacher was welcoming and the space housed in an old school building was both charming and holy at the same time. She led us through gentle yet challenging moves as we focused on our intention of the day.

Back home for a quick bite to eat – the rest of my meal from the night before was the perfect light lunch for this day. Then on my scooter again for the trip downtown to Mars Hill. (My little Vespa makes me very happy and I giggled most of the ride!) While I was fully present to the air touching my skin and the traffic around me, I nearly missed my turn because I was so enjoying the beauty of Puget Sound and the glistening Olympic mountains. Awe!

My time spent with students was the perfect mixture of challenging, rewarding, comfortable and fun. I was glad to see their individual faces after so many weeks away for the mid-winter holiday.

The ride home was chilly and exhilarating. Pooped and ready to chill for a while, my teenage daughter invited me ( ☺ ) to help her begin painting her new bedroom. This move of hers will be a bonus for both of us since it will give us all more privacy and I will have my very own space to do writing and art! (I’ll keep you posted on that transition. I am very excited!) And so, we worked side by side watching steel gray walls transform into a lovely shade of very girly pink. It is wonderful to see her using light colors instead of transforming her space into a dungeon or bordello as often is the style for this age.

Somewhere in there I managed to pull together a dinner of chili and salad for the family and, finally, exhausted and fulfilled, I crawled back into bed, read the Merton words once again and thanked the Universe that “the epiphany of God in time can come to us at any moment”. Yesterday was a day filled with those moments! Gratitude all around.

Wishing you your own special moments with God no matter where you are or what you are doing!!

lucy's photo from hood canal 12.08

theme worthy?

As you may have picked up on (or not), I am enrolled in a memoir writing program that started in early January. Just this morning it dawned on me that as a by-product of that, I am not just enrolled in a class, I am indeed writing a memoir ☺. Brilliant, huh?

The problem when you announce this is people immediately want to know what your theme is (other than the obvious, “It is about me.”) The great thing about the process of this class is that we are not required (yet) to know our theme. We are simply encouraged to write and write and write about what comes to mind and weave this in with other exercises and somewhere along the way, our theme is going to pop out like magic. The odd thing is that I actually believe this. So, I am just going to keep writing and doing my exercises.

Now, it’s really not quite as random as all that especially since I have been free-writing for nearly five years and there are definitely themes that show up again and again and again. So, I decided I would share where I am today (knowing full well that it could change by this afternoon). Here is a poem I ran across this morning. It popped out of the book, jumped up and down, and waved her words yelling, “ME, ME, ME, Look at Me! I could be your theme!!”

The Uses of Sorrow
Mary Oliver

Someone I loved once gave me
a box full of darkness.

It took me years to understand
that this, too, was a gift.

Theme worthy? What do you think?

gracious tenders of fire

Oh, I have a fire in my belly and sometimes it doesn’t burn so pure. It threatens to hop out of its grate and scorch those that get in the way. I am so grateful for the responses to judgment or observation and how it helped me to see for myself where and how I want people to join me in my “righteous” flame. My reader responses were so thoughtful that I wanted to respond here in post rather than have it buried in the comment section. (The following, in most instances, contains my paraphrasing rather than direct quotations.)

Difference a Year Makes spoke of bringing our own eyes and filters to each situation. What a great little reminder of something that I often preach, but sometimes forget to practice ☺. In this case, my filter comes from someone who grew up quite familiar with judgments in general and Christian fundamentalism in particular. I have also been a mother who wonders when she might get the call that something has happened to her “not model” child. So, I get a little sensitive when all of those things collide together as they did in the referred to recent e-mail.

Gabrielle reminded me that we have the power to choose what we do with our observations and judgments. I can choose to hold onto thoughts and let them fester or I can let it go and transform into something else. Tess and Sunrise Sister let me know that my interpretation could be subject to another point of view. (Ouch! That one hurt a little and I really wanted to fight it.)

While the wording in the e-mail did indicate that prayer for the deceased (or perhaps one who takes one’s own life) might not be appropriate, I was reminded by Sorrow that the author was indeed seeking comfort for the family and not attempting to exclude anyone. She was trying to be respectful of other’s faiths. Furthermore, Barbara and my husband reminded me, there are wonderful, faith-filled people who do not believe in praying for the dead. While I still get caught on that one, I can let it go as a difference of opinion and not something I am called to judge. It is here I realized I wanted others to join with me and say, “That Faith is wrong!” Gabriella M. reminded me that I can accept someone without liking what they do.

The gracious words of those who love and tolerate my fiery nature led me gently back to the place I long to be. It is a place where I am not attached to my thoughts and thus they do not turn into judgments and I am at peace with the world and myself. It is a place where I recognize myself as fallible, broken and wondrous and I can see others that way too.

This time the fire briefly threatened to be one that could consume. Instead, my friends came around like gentle tenders of the flame, nurturing with word, musing and metaphor to keep the fire a place of warmth and safety rather than danger and destruction. Peace to each of you, fire tenders.

For those of you who did not read the responses to this post, I highly recommend you visit there for beautiful words of wisdom and grace.

judgment or observation?

Recently I find myself wondering about the difference between judgment and observation. Can the two be separated? It is something that I find myself considering both in terms of how I behave and how I respond when someone comments on my personal behavior.

I have a friend who begins many statements with “I’m just making an observation. There is no judgment involved.” Most of the time I feel this to be quite true, however, occasionally it seems to cross over into the judgment category particularly when she declares “I just don’t understand why you do that” without following it up with curiosity as to what might be my motivation. Isn’t that where we often get ourselves into trouble and move toward being judgmental – when we don’t understand the motivations of another and do not bother to even be curious about them?

This morning I watched a woman give another person the finger while driving and I thought to myself, “How rude!” Judgment or observation? The gesture, I believe, was indeed rude. The woman? I have no idea what was her motivation, therefore, I could not judge her character. Perhaps that is the difference, when we make a character assessment rather than an observation about behavior.

I have found myself recently (& not so recently) quite disturbed as I have heard people bash George W. Bush not just for his policies but for his “thin lips, smug smile, big ears…whatever.” While I am not a fan of GWB, I still recognize him as a person and not an Other. Why do we feel the need to make people “less than”? Do we need to assassinate their humanity? Are we not all – uh – human?

One last incident which really bugged me today was when I received a very sad announcement that a sorority sister’s child had recently died of a drug overdose. It is heartbreaking and I wept tears for this child and family I have never even met. The letter gave a few details of the death and in it this young woman was compared to her two siblings who had “always been happy, model children and a joy to their parents.” It left me wondering, had the deceased daughter NOT been a “model” child and “joy” to her parents? Again, I wonder – observation or judgment?

The part of the e-mail, however, that really irked me was when we were asked to pray for the family and also the deceased “if our faith allows.” IF OUR FAITH ALLOWS?!?!? So, here I am going to make a judgment. What kind of “faith” would not allow a person to pray for a tortured young woman’s soul? Yikes! What else can be said? I will proudly stand up for my judgment that leaving anyone out of God’s grace is wrong! (And it takes an awful lot to push me to use the terms "right and wrong"!)

So, what do you think? Is there a difference between judgment and observation? Do you hide your judgments behind words of observation? Or can one be distinguished from the other? I’d love to know what you think and I promise not to judge your response even if my observation is different ☺.

fire. rock. water. you. me.

"In loving ourselves, we love the world. For just as fire, rock and water are all made up of molecules, everything, including you and me, is connected by a small piece of the beginning." --Mark Nepo

sunset hill 1.23.09