Wouldn't it be awesome if...

This post by Jen Lemen is just too good to pass by.

Solitude...Conviction

Northwoods Contemplative's recent post "Solitude of Heart" shares some wonderful words from one of my favorite writers, Henri Nouwen. (I hope you can take the time to read the whole post.) While reading I could not get the song by Kenny Loggins, "Conviction of the Heart" out of my head. The two are linked I believe.

A man or woman who has developed this solitude of heart is no longer pulled apart by the most divergent stimuli of the surrounding world but is able to perceive and understand this world from a quiet inner center. --Henri Nouwen

Do we forget or forgive?
Theres a whole other life waiting to be lived when...
One day we're brave enough
To talk with conviction of the heart. --Kenny Loggins

You can see Loggins perform the whole song here.

I have to wonder if "Solitude of Heart" will not lead to "Conviction of the Heart." I'd love to know what you think.

Listening Point

Check out a new group blog devoted to "Listening." You might even see a familiar voice there (say on June 19, 2007). Cheers!

Pain

Today I begin with a disclaimer stating that I am not a whiner by nature and really am not fond of the aging crowd’s propensity to discuss physical ailments as a source of entertainment, however, there is a point (I hope) to sharing my current discomfort. You see, I have been in physical pain for almost a month now. The pain appears to be in my right arm which is kind of a problem since I am right-handed. During my lifetime, I have come to realize that I have a pretty significant tolerance for pain that was first pointed out to me with the birth of my son and then again with my daughter as no pain medications were necessary for delivery. (I must add this is a point of pride for me and I should probably let it go, but probably not today ☺). My current pain has been one that I first noticed when I was in Texas facilitating a workshop and I thought I had slept wrong on my arm, but after several days, weeks and now a month the pain has not gone away.

I visited my chiropractor who said if this isn’t better in a day or so, come back. I went back two weeks later ☺ when I had myself convinced I had a tumor in my back and was probably going to die soon and for a moment or two that seemed okay. Always the question of what level (number) is your pain? I don’t know but it really hurts so it must be bad.

Now, why do I tell you all of this? Well, since visiting a massage therapist (the next recommended course of action) I have had vivid images rattling around in my head. I slept with them last night and had a great essay written in my dreams, but, of course, cannot remember those “perfect” words this morning. The idea, however, is along these lines: if we hold tightly to something, the pain will stay with us. It feels protective and better in the moment, but in the long run the pain and ineffectiveness only deepens rather than dissipating. Hmm. Sounds like life to me.

All those verses of “you must lose your life to gain it”; the old butterfly poster poem of “if you love something, set it free”; “surrender your will to find your dreams” keep running through my head. The momentary instinct has been to hold my arm close and keep the pain from radiating throughout my body; to sleep tightly bundled up so I don’t move and thus hurt. The pain seems to be in my arm and my arm wants to be protected, but what I discovered yesterday is that the culprit is really a muscle (or bunch of nerves) in my chest and everything radiates from there.

As I hold tightly the muscle shrinks and while the pain is better for the moment, this holding on is actually further limiting my ability to move. In fact, rather than sleeping in a still ball, I am better served by lying with my arms wide open, stretching the muscle rather than further constricting it.

And so, that is what I believe we are called to do with life. Stretch. We are to stretch with our arms wide open. If we do not we will atrophy. In other words, use it or lose it. Sometimes we need the protection and safety of curling up and covering our hearts, but in the long run we are called to risk. To risk that first pain that grabs us and says, “go no further.” We are called to look fear in the face and say, “today I will test myself just a little bit.” I will stretch my arm to see if I can move a little further.

Even though this is not exactly the essay I wrote in my sleep last night, I hope you get the picture. I still have a hundred metaphors running around in my brain about this whole incident, but bottom line is that today even though my arm still hurts (unfortunately cures are not instant and take some hard work), I have hope. I can feel more movement and I am working with the pain rather than against it. I hope I will choose to do the same with my life. I hope you will too ☺.

photo by mary jane hughlett - belgian congo circa 1950's

Me Times Eight

This afternoon I started to do Tess' Me Times Eight meme and found that my first five thoughts had to do with things I'm not sure I want to make public today. The "facts" generally read like something out of a teenager's diary. (Oh, I guess that would be MY teenage diary which I shall save for now). So, there's fact #1--I have a teenage diary rattling around in my not-so-teenage head.

#2 My mother was an Avon lady from the time I was four years old until I went to college at 18. With this vocation and her Southern upbringing, she instilled in me a love of lipstick. Never leave home without it.

#3 Wild as I feel inside sometimes, I often am described as "sweet" or "uptight." What's up with that?!?!? (Lucy gets a little crabby about the uptight comment.)

#4 When I was about 5 years old, I took tap dance lessons for about 2 weeks. I loved the shiny black shoes, but much preferred to stay home and watch "The Three Stooges" or was it Johnny Weismiller's "Tarzan"?

#5 At the age of forty, I decided I could do a triathlon after watching my husband complete many. It was quite a feat for me to accomplish the 1/2 mile open water swim, since oops...I Don't Swim! I am certain I was accompanied by an angel in bodily form who came alongside me, said, "what's your name?" and then, "o.k. we'll do this together." I honestly think I might have drowned or at least been pulled out of the water by the lifeguards if she had not talked me through it.

#6 In eighth grade I was very proud to read and complete "Gone with the Wind." I loved the book and hated the movie (not a popular opinion) because they left out too much. I still haven't figured out if it qualified as classic literature or an early romance novel. Any thoughts?

#7 One of my favorite childhood memories is of sitting on the stoop at my kindergarten teacher's house sharing an ice cream cone with her dog. I'd take a lick. Then he would take a lick. There is something so delightful about children's instincts before someone tells them they are doing something "wrong."

#8 My dad was a truck driver and I used to love to play Barbie's in his sleeper cab. One of my best memories was going on a trip with him to Tulsa (90 miles away from our home in Oklahoma City). I thought it was a serious road trip made all the more special by milkshakes and lemon drops along the way.

Well, that was some memorable randomness for a Friday afternoon. I, too, am going to break the rules and not tag anyone else, but if you'd like to play along just let me know. I'd love to hear some of your random silliness or seriousness.