Lakeside Reflections

Blog Moving and New Series

2010-04-28T15:34:00.000-07:00

As you know, life is full of change...in an effort to keep up with technology, I have integrated my blog and website at www.marybeasullivan.com/blog. I will no longer be posting on this site.

For your protection (against spam), I am unable to register you on the new site. If you want to (continue to) receive the blog updates as an email, please click on this email subscription link.

After you subscribe you will be sent a confirmation email--the subscription will not begin until you click on the confirmation link in that email. If you have any questions feel free to email or call 205.329.48262 and I will try to help. Thanks!!

On May 1st I will begin a daily series entitled, "Midwife to the Mystery." We live in a (mostly) wonderful world. Yet, sometimes, we find ourselves moving robot-like through our days, numbed and overwhelmed. We can lose sight of the Mystery that is as close as each breath we take.

I invite you to walk with me as we explore simple reflections and/or ways to increase awareness of Mystery in our lives. My hope is that we will balance some of the unhealthy messages we receive about how we should look, feel, spend, etc. with messages about being open to what is, to the I AM . Perhaps increasing our own awareness of the Mystery will help birth greater awareness for others as well.

The first post will consider how our challenges, even tragedies can break us open to love.

"Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in."

Excerpt from the Leaonard Cohen song "Anthem"

If you sign up for the blog's email subscription you will automatically receive the series posts. I appreciate your walking on this new road with me and hope you will share your own experiences and comments! Namaste

Blessings From the Rubble

2010-04-19T07:59:00.000-07:00

Heartsong is an annual retreat sponsored by the 1917 Clinic at UAB for people living with HIV/AIDS. I am honored and excited to be attending the retreat as a co-facilitator with Rev. Joe Elmore. This year's theme is "Blessings!," inspired by Rachel Naomi Remen's inspirational book, My Grandfather's Blessings.

In preparation for tomorrow's session "Finding Blessings in Difficult Times," I have been remembering the many times I, or others who I know, have experienced a loss, disappointment, or tragedy and how somewhere under the rubble blessings were uncovered.

And then I recalled a touching story that I heard on NPR about 5th graders in Northridge, California sending letters and drawings to children devastated by the earthquake in Haiti. One letter said, "I wrote this letter to tell you I care about you." Others included poems, or funny stories in hopes of sending cheer. The Northridge children raised more than $1700 for the Red Cross Haitian relief effort and sent markers, pens, and papers to the children.

The children in Haiti were moved by the support from afar. As a gesture of appreciation, they sent back to California a car made from juice bottles and caps, thank you notes for the encouragement, and one young girl sang a song in English praising her new friends as angels.

The students in California were glad to hear back from their Haitian counterparts and impressed with their resourcefulness and courage. Hope for continued relationships sparked by the exchange.

Blessings from the rubble...children from a privileged community reaching out in meaningful ways to those less fortunate; learning about students from another culture, honoring them with dignity, being inspired by them. Children in tragedy being touched by kind strangers and responding with gratitude and creativity...listeners around the world given the opportunity to take a break from the sniping that fills our airwaves to learn from the children.

When was a time that you were going through a hard time and something good came from it? What blessings were you able to find in the rubble?

Namaste

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Calendar Prayer

2010-04-15T06:34:00.001-07:00

Let's face it, most of us rarely link prayer with time management, but I am wondering if they are unrelated. Think about it, isn't time one of the most precious gifts we have been given?

How do you treat that gift?

Sometimes it feels as if time slips away like air slowly leaking out of a balloon--at first it is barely noticeable, but before long, the balloon is lifeless, flat. So it can go with our days if we are not careful, mindful of where our minutes are going.

It is Thursday-again. The week is almost over and the "to do's" on my list for this week are still longer than my days. I wonder, "Why?" Am I over committed and there was never any way all of those things could get done? Have I been wasting too much time on the phone or the computer? Did something simply take longer than I expected?

What if I were to take time to notice? What if I were to begin my days with a few minutes of calendar prayer? Would it make a difference if each morning as I plan my day I were to take a few deep breaths, give thanks for this moment, this hour, this day, and asked for wisdom and guidance to use the time I have been given to serve my and the world's greatest good?

I'm gonna give it a try...will you? What works for you in managing this sacred resource?

Namaste

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Lessons from the Couch

2010-04-02T15:26:00.000-07:00

The parish hall was full and lively. Purple tablecloths and dramatic vine-like centerpieces adorned each table. Energy in the room was high, and I was truly enjoying the sense of communion with the congregation. The focus of my talk, the 46th Psalm, “Be still and know that I am God.”

Paradoxically, my outward joy masked the truth that underneath the public facade was one worn-out woman--something even I didn’t realize. In the past few months I had nursed my son back from a serious car accident; put our home on and off the market; traveled to California, Georgia, South Carolina, and Tennessee to facilitate programs, receive training, and say “good bye” to a dying family member. Just that day I had driven over 200 miles, facilitated a wisdom circle, delivered soup for our church’s Lenten supper, presented my “Be Still” talk, and packed for an early morning trip to Colorado. Talk about “teaching what we need to learn!”

When I returned from Colorado I was so sick and exhausted for three weeks I only left the couch to go to the doctor or emergency room. I had lived this story before. Burn out is to me what the “check engine” light is for my Prius--a not-so-gentle reminder that I am in need of service. Underneath all of the running around is the fear that "I am not enough." This time I was buying into the lie that I needed more training, more work, more accolades, more money, more fun.

Ironically, the lessons from the couch are coming into focus on Good Friday. The day that Jesus surrenders fully. The day that he commends his spirit to God. How I want to follow Jesus’ lead, open my hands and my heart and release that which keeps me from fully realizing God’s loving Presence in my life. I would love to let this lie of “not enough” die. After a few weeks of forced “sabbatical” I intend to step back into the world with renewed energy and passion and the hope that I will recognize burn-out’s flickering flame before it reaches full blaze.

Optional Exercise: Take some time to consider the following...
What in your life is creating separation from you and God, yourself, or others? Separation from fully experiencing the fullness of your life?

This is a tricky question for most of us. Perhaps some clues about the thought/belief system/habit/addiction that might be limiting your connection would be helpful.

Take a few minutes and consider the following questions designed to help identify what my be your particular "brand" of stumbling block keeping you from experiencing "wholeness." You may want to record your responses in your journal; or you might just want to be still with the questions and offer them as a prayer for ongoing clarity.

We're probably stumbling around a "block" when we experience a sense of having "been here before.” What is a recurrent “theme” or “story” that you tell yourself when you are stressed, anxious, or angry? (Some common examples are, “I have to do everything.” “I am not worthy.” “I must be perfect.” “No one understands me.”)

Often we attempt to “numb” ourselves with TV, computer, food, alcohol, anything to distract us from our uneasy feelings. What do you “cling” to in times of discord?

When we run into a stumbling block, many times there is negative fallout to ourselves, our relationships, our health. What are the harmful consequences to you and others when you believe/act in this way?

When you have let this thought/belief system/habit/addiction go before, what great learning has come? How could you change your stance to one of open-hearted receptivity and open-palmed surrender?

Serving the Music

2010-04-01T06:38:00.000-07:00

A few days ago I saw an interview with Celine Dion that struck a chord. She was talking about how when she was younger she used to work hard trying to "make music."

Then she described how her perspective has changed over the years. "I don't know if everybody realizes how powerful music can be. I think it breaks every barrier," she said. "I think God has given me something to work with, a voice, and I'm just trying to serve the lyrics and the music to get messages through."

A powerful, subtle, humble shift.

"Making music" implies willful, self-creation; "Serving music," the open-hearted gesture of co-creating.

When she described the experience of making music, her body and verbal language expressed a sense of "hard work." As she contemplated the idea of serving music, her face softened, even her breathing seemed to slow down. She actually said that it is much easier now.

How often do we find ourselves trying to make something happen...forcing, willful, self-determined MAKING? How would our stance change if we were open, yielding, receiving, humbly SERVING with our gifts?

Namaste

Welcoming the Stranger

2010-03-01T04:33:00.000-08:00

Nestled in my favorite green chair, warmed by the fire and MIss White's hand-sewn quilt, I was enjoying an unusually peaceful evening alone. Suddenly the stillness was shattered by a low, snarling growl from Daisy. Hesitantly, I stood up to turn the outside light on when I spotted the object of Daisy's over-zealous protection--a raccoon swinging form one of the bird feeders on the deck.

My involuntary reaction was disgust. Those stupid raccoons make such a mess! Ugh! What a waste of bird seed! I was about to shoo the intruder away when I paused for an instant. Instead of a messy pest I noticed a sweet face staring back at me and returned his gaze. Stillness hovered under the moon-lit sky as we silently watched one another. Looking into his eyes, I began to soften. Where there was repulsion, now attraction. Moments before, yelling at the raccoon seemed the most appropriate response; now that I knew him, that felt like a cruel way to treat a fellow creature.

Enchanted by his masked face and calm response to my presence, I smiled and went inside for the camera. The raccoon compliantly posed as I clicked away--staring directly into the camera. I couldn’t wait to show Malcolm the photos of our late-night visitor. What a contrast from my initial, enraged response.

Practice: Welcoming the Stranger

Sit quietly for a few minutes. Take a few breaths. Relax. Enjoy the quiet. Imagine a sense of spaciousness as you breathe in and out. Consider how you usually respond to strangers. Do you tend to be welcoming, trusting, curious? Are you frightened by people who are different than you? Judgmental of customs and cultures unlike your own? Are you quick to invite someone new into your “circle;” or are you comfortable with your current cadre of companions? Is there a particular person or type of person who you tends to invoke a strong response from you? Who? Why?

Spend a few minutes with how you feel about strangers, or people you think of as “strange.” What would it be like if you took a little time to get to know one person who is currently a stranger to you?

If you would like to develop a habit of welcoming try one of these exercises. In the course of your day, look for, or create an opportunity to reach out to someone you normally would keep at bay. Maybe you could go out of your way to smile at or speak to someone who you normally would ignore. Perhaps there is someone in your life that you have avoided getting to know, would you want to call that person and reach out?

We are all “the stranger” at one time or another. Enjoy the opportunity to “welcome the stranger” and open to the gifts that may unfold.

If you like, share a story of a time when you welcomed a stranger and something unexpected happened. Namaste

When the Snowflakes Fall...

2010-02-12T12:04:00.000-08:00

It is snowing in Alabama! Nothing like the blizzard folks are experiencing in other parts of the country. But it is highly unusual to get a dousing of white around here. Usually, if snow falls it is in the middle of the night, the beauty lasts about an hour, then the sun comes out leaving muddy slush in its wake.

Not today. It is REALLY snowing in Alabama!

From my perch in the loft, it feels like I am inside of a snow globe. Whoever shook this one did a great job!! The flakes are dusting the trees and the deck is blanketed in white. Most stunning of all is the menagerie of birds that have invaded the feeders and the trees. I stopped counting the number of finches, cardinals, and LBB's (little brown birds) when I reached thirty. Every opening at the two feeders is occupied, the deck is covered in tiny birds pecking through the snow, and finches decorate the trees like Christmas ornaments.

The birds are acting very strange on this snowy day. They are partying big-time! Even though I filled the feeders this morning, by lunchtime they were empty. Daisy and I walked onto the snowy deck. An airlift of raucous wings flapped toward safety.

As I moved toward the bird seed-filled trash can a tiny goldfinch flew in my face and then landed on a wire inches away. I stooped down and soothingly spoke to him, sure he must be hurt if he wasn't taking flight. He returned my gaze, charmingly turning his tiny head. We lingered in this posture of mutual admiration for quite some time. Snow drenched my hair and I was getting cold, but I didn't want to scare my new friend by lifting the lid to get the seed. Finally, I explained what I was about to do, as if he would understand, and then gently lifted the lid. He stood and watched me fill the feeders, fascinated by the process. When I stood up he finally flew away. I chuckled.

As I was hoisting the feeders back to their spot, my little friend and a few other finches actually danced around my head. Clearly they were drunk with snow! Just as I was about to go inside, there was movement in the trees. About a 100 yards away was a HUGE bird looking out over the snowy lake. I thought it was a hawk, because its back was to me, I wasn't sure.

Thirty minutes, forty five minutes, an hour later that giant bird was still contemplating life from his perch. Sometime later I noticed he was no longer there and thought, I wish I would've seen him fly. Minutes later an enormous owl glided in front of the window--in the middle of the day!

When snowflakes fall in Alabama!

REMEMBERING

2010-02-04T23:31:00.000-08:00

I hope you will indulge me with two posts in one day.

How often do we take time to REMEMBER the people who have made a difference in our lives? Take a moment and think back to a time when you were going through a rough patch and someone stepped in to make a difference in a significant way. Maybe it was a teacher who noticed you were having trouble "fitting in" and she helped you feel safe. Or perhaps it was a neighbor who noticed you were sad and she took the time to listen to your troubles. If we stop and think about it long enough the list of kindnesses we have received in our lifetimes are innumerable. Wouldn't it be nice just to remember a few?

So, go ahead, take just minute and REMEMBER someone who has been good to you. What did he or she do that touched you deeply? How did you respond to their kindness? Have you ever told them how they made a difference? Would you want to tell them again? If you haven't ever told that person the impact they have had on you, would you want to now?

If you do, feel free to let us know how it went. REMEMBERING...a way to relive the gift...ACKNOWLEDGING...a way to share the gift!

INTEGRITY

2010-02-04T22:55:00.000-08:00

One of the dictionary definitions for "integrity" is, "adherence to moral and ethical principles; soundness of moral character; honesty."

Seems simple enough. Yet if we choose to be vigilant about what we say and do, we might find it is no easy task. Maybe I am just projecting my own shortcomings on all of you .

Recently I have had a few occasions where I NOTICED how I was hoping to wiggle out of "full disclosure." In one case, there were some messy, hard things happening in the relationship and it seemed easier to gloss over them than it was to be straight with the other person. In the short-run that strategy can work, but over time my little "white lies" always tend to pile up into a heap that becomes unmanageable. The gifted psychotherapist, Virginia Satir had a saying about "taking out the trash" every day in relationships. I guess we would have a lot less to clean up if we NOTICED the trash we were about to throw down and avoid making the mess in the first place.

Just the other day I was dealing with someone in a business transaction. When she came to our home I knew we were going to interview other people for the "job." In fact, I intended to tell her that. But when she was sitting there at my kitchen table in the flesh, it felt too uncomfortable to tell her the truth. After a couple of days, I got up the nerve to let her know our plans. She was gracious and understanding, but I could tell she was hurt. I hoped to remember to be more honest from the beginning next time.

This integrity business can be as simple as following up with someone when we say we will, or as big as fidelity in our marriages. I bet it is like lots of things, in order to create a life of integrity, it requires making a habit of choosing to be honest every little step of the way.

Integrity-in our thoughts, our speech, our actions...it takes a LOT of noticing. But hopefully living out our moral and ethical principles will lead to better relationships and better sleep at night!

Thank You Joe!

2010-01-29T07:50:00.000-08:00

After a visit with their grandparents, Brendan and Kiki told me that Grandpa Joe and Grandma Bonnie were hoping I would visit sometime. I had not seen them since divorcing their son eight years ago. Their invitation, a testimony to the power of love and forgiveness over enmity and pride.

A year ago Joe was diagnosed with cancer. He has undergone treatments, is doing pretty well, but one of the tumors is inoperable. Time is of the essence for all of us, but there is nothing like the cruel clarity of a terminal diagnosis to remind us of our limited supply of moments.

This week I chose to take Bonnie and Joe up on their offer to visit. They greeted me warmly, graciously. We caught up on family, health, laughed about old times. It was an easy and relaxed visit.

When it was time to say "good bye" Joe stood up from his chair and gestured for me to come to him. We stood facing one another. Faces inches apart, we looked into each other's moist eyes with intimacy traditionally reserved for lovers...simply, silently, holding one another. The moment, especially dear since we knew this may be our last together.

Joe placed his hands on my cheeks; I noticed how crystal-like his blue eyes were, filled with liquid love. He pressed his palms more firmly against my face as if he was imploring me to listen, really listen, and spoke with urgency.

"Mary, God gives us all gifts. You have some beautiful gifts. Gifts the world desperately needs. Don't hold back anymore. Do you hear me? No holding back. Go out and share those gifts. Don't play small; just spread your gifts out in the world. No holding back. It's time to share what God has given you. Do you hear me?"

Tears streaming down both of our cheeks, I nodded a silent vow; a wordless promise to heed his call. We embraced, expressed our love, and Bonnie walked me to the car. Driving past the room where Joe was sitting, I stopped and waved a furious, cheerful goodbye.

Seems like I have been waiting a long time for someone to lay hands on my head and invite me to profess my vows. I had a picture of what that would look like...in a church, Bishop, family gathered, the whole shebang. But you know what? Perhaps it has already happened in that sun-soaked family room.

There is a stark contrast in Joe's urgency for me to "FLY! FLY" and the institutional drone to "WAIT! WAIT!" Thank you Joe and God bless you! You are so right, we ALL have gifts to share. What good does it do to withhold them? Is there a part of you that has been holding back, afraid to share what you have to offer? Let's fly while we still can!

Gifts of the Spirit

2010-01-22T06:12:00.000-08:00

“Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit,

and there are varieties of services, but the same Lord;” 1 Corinthians 12:4-5

Miss Raz must have sensed my confusion when she sidled up next to me at the table littered with sign up sheets. Or, perhaps she waited there skillfully culling volunteers. “Hey Kid. Why don’t you join me on the altar guild?” Clueless as to what this meant, but vain enough to do anything for anyone who called me “Kid,” I scribbled my name on the sheet.

That first Saturday morning I joined the other women who patiently explained to me every detail that goes into preparing the altar for service. Ms. Raz confidently directed her troops. Martha remained close to me, easing my anxiety with her humor. When I forgot the proper name of an item she smiled and whispered, “Or you can call it the ‘holy napkin.’” Candles were re-filled with oil and gently wiped down. Before they could be placed on the altar, candelabras were presented to Ms. Raz who made sure they were lined up, eyeing them with drill sergeant-like precision. Patti and Phyllis arranged flowers with conscientious care, and what deceptively seemed effortless ease.

After our tasks were complete, Ms. Raz brought me to the back of the nave and we admired the group’s work. She noticed that candles on the altar were a bit out of alignment and went up to fix them, calling back to me, making sure all was in place. I admired the artistry and love that had transformed the sanctuary.

The next morning when we arrived for church, I had a new appreciation for all of the work that goes into creating sacred space for our worship service. From the procession of the choir, through the readings, Bob’s sermon, and the guitar music during the Eucharist, I was aware of all the previously unappreciated gifts that had been poured out into the creation of a meaningful service. The faithful care of so many to prepare the space for our hearts to open to God.

When Lewis’ beautiful additions to the altar appeared a few weeks later, I marveled at his self-less offering in spite of physical pain. Perhaps this well-choreographed effort is what Paul meant when he wrote, “All these are activated by one and the same Spirit, who allots to each one individually just as the Spirit chooses.”

Prayer

Loving Creator, thank you for the gifts of the Spirit. May I appreciate the gifts in others and generously share the gifts you have given me. Amen.

Switching Lenses

2010-01-21T09:04:00.000-08:00

“Do you still enjoy what you’re doing?” I asked Theresa as she changed out camera lenses. “Funny you should ask. I have been re-thinking some things.” She replied. “Really, how long have you been a photographer?” “Well, I started when I was 17 and I’m 52. What’s the math on that?” I was intrigued, Theresa seemed so established in her work, why would she be “rethinking some things?”

While Theresa moved adeptly about her photography studio, checking lighting, adjusting backgrounds, she told her story. “This economy, it’s been hard on everybody. I just never thought I would have to worry about my livelihood. But when folks don’t know how they’re going to pay the rent or buy food, they sure aren’t gonna be paying for pictures. It’s been tough.” I shared some of my own experiences with professional challenges and we exchanged that look of mutual misery.

"I told Daddy just the other day, ‘I realize these last few years I’ve been grieving.‘ Mary, it just isn’t like me to be depressed. But I think between the digital age and the economy, this has all hit me real hard.” We stood silently shaking our heads in agreement. “But you know what, I’m getting ready for a career change.” My head popped up, “You are? What kind of career change?”

“Well, I’ve decided if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em. I’m taking classes on how to design websites. I LOVE it! I LOVE working with the computer! Imagine how great it would be to have someone who could design your website and take professional pictures to put on that site! Also, I’m teaching classes for folks who want to learn how to use their digital cameras better. Some for beginners, some for advanced. I have more energy than I’ve had in years.” Astounded, I stood watching Theresa, inspired by her ability to listen deeply to what life was offering her.

How often do we feel a sense of sadness over things changing, a desire to hold on to “what has been,” and struggle to find a way forward? Theresa’s story is powerful because she was able to shift her focus and allowed a fresh vision for her life, new possibilities, new adventure to come into the picture.

When I called Theresa to ask if I could share her story, she was surprised and responded, “Well of course. The way I see it, business is God’s gift to me to be given back. If something I’ve said or done will help someone else, I’m glad to be a part of it.” And then she added, “When I now think of the last several years and the despair they brought. There were days when I thought I was living through the worst thing possible. But you know, now I look back on where I was and where it brought me, to THIS day and I can truly say, ‘I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.’ We are always better after the storm.”

Practice: Changing Lenses

Sit quietly for a few minutes, either in your sacred space or outside in the open. Take a few deep breaths and scan your body. Is there a place where you are gripping, clinging, holding on tight? If so, place your hand there and simply breathe into that space. You might ask if it has a name. Silently breathe with the intention of releasing the clinging. If it feels comfortable ask yourself, “What am I holding on to that is causing pain?” Give yourself the gift of a few more deep breaths, feeling the heat from your palm on the spot you have located. Linger with this for awhile, breathing in, breathing out. After the tension dissolves, release it.

Take a few moments to honor whatever grief or sadness may have come up for you in this exercise. If there is something that is troubling you deeply, it may take a while for the sadness to subside, for you to be able to release your grip. Maybe you would like to close with a prayer. Here is an example or, or you may wish to create your own. “Loving Creator, thank you for your faithful, imminent presence in my life. I release to you this sadness (name it?) and commit to the intention of keeping my eyes open to the new paths that are in front of me. Amen.”

The F Word

2010-01-19T11:58:00.000-08:00

OK-most of us try hard not to say it out loud and many of us do a great job of avoiding it, but it is time to have an honest discussion about the "F word."

It's just that the word has been given such a bad rap...I think it is misunderstood. It is truly the genesis of things being brought to life-isn't that a good thing?

For some of us, avoiding it causes more harm than good. We pretend it isn't there. Distracting ourselves with unimportant tasks when in fact we should be FOCUSING. Yes, the "F Word"--focus. What did you think it was????

Where are you focusing your energy these days? Do you have a clear idea of what is most important to you and FOCUSING your time, money, and talents in that direction? If not, you might want to consider taking a few moments to make a list of the top 3 things you want to get done this year. Keep the list close to your desk, stick it on the mirror. Whatever works best for you to remember how to manage your time and FOCUS your life.

Well, this has been a fun distraction. Now I am going to return to FOCUSING on the book I have been working on...one of my top 3's this year. What are yours??

Ave Maria

2009-12-14T12:30:00.000-08:00

Maybe it is the 60 degree weather; or the fact that we still don't have our tree up; more than likely it has to do with Brendan's Thanksgiving accident. In any case, "it" is my lack of traditional Christmas spirit. I cannot remember a Saturday after Thanksgiving that wasn't spent trimming the tree. For the past five Christmases, Malcolm and I have picked out our tree from a sweet old farmer who hauls trees into downtown Cullman. The first year we met him, eyes moist with tears he told us that his daughter-in-law and grandson had died in a car accident just weeks before. We wept with him...treasuring our tree all the more. Every year since then, we have loyally visited his lot, inquiring about his widowed son, grateful for God's healing in their lives.

Yesterday after church I chose to forego the beloved tree search and asked Malcolm to drop me off at the grocery store so I could shop while he picked out the tree. When he picked me up and shared tales of our old friend, I half-heartedly listened. Something is different this year. Those old traditions seem hollow, rote.

And yet, meaningful new ways to celebrate the season are taking hold. Days spent making prayer beads for friends...long, recuperative walks with Brendan...Advent chants and prayers bubbling up from a newly discovered well. I find myself singing, "Come Light of Life into my heart...Come Light of Life into my heart..." A little ditty I created for an Advent workshop...sitting around a circle with 25 wonderful people chanting, "Come Light of Life into my heart..." that was powerful.

I have been Reading and re-reading the story in Luke when Mary was visited by the Angel Gabriel. What courage it must've taken for that fourteen-year-old girl to risk her future with Joseph, her very life by saying, "Here am I, the servant of the Lord."

Soon after her encounter with Gabriel, she hauled her barely pregnant self to visit her cousin...why? To help? To hide? I wonder if we haven't sanitized Mary to be the model of motherhood and perhaps missed of the significance of her response to the role she agreed to. Upon arriving at Elizabeth's home, Mary spoke the words of the Magnificat (listed below, also known as the Song of Mary). Look at these words from her heart...Mary is the bearer of her Jewish social justice tradition! Yet so often we have focused on her purity, her virginal qualities. I wonder if that obsession with her virginity isn't reflective of the church's discomfort with women's sexuality...a distraction from the powerful role model she is meant to be.

When we consider Mary and her preparation for the birth of Jesus, courage, powerful surrender, and service come to mind. This Advent season, how can we embody her in a more personal way? Not necessarily in the way we have been taught to regard Mary...as submissive to the point of passive; but rather as an empowered woman giving birth to the Love that will save us from ourselves.

I have more questions than answers, but perhaps this lack of enthusiasm with the traditional Christmas preparation is more indicative of something new stirring than it is of a lack of love and respect for tradition. Hmmmm--maybe that is what this season is all about after all.

Advent Blessings to you and yours! May the Light of Life come into your hearts!

The Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55 NRSV)

And Mary said, ‘My soul magnifies the Lord, ⁴⁷ and my spirit rejoices in God my Saviour, ⁴⁸for he has looked with favour on the lowliness of his servant.
Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; ⁴⁹for the Mighty One has done great things for me,
and holy is his name. ⁵⁰His mercy is for those who fear him
from generation to generation. ⁵¹He has shown strength with his arm;
he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. ⁵²He has brought down the powerful from their thrones,
and lifted up the lowly; ⁵³he has filled the hungry with good things,
and sent the rich away empty. ⁵⁴He has helped his servant Israel,
in remembrance of his mercy, ⁵⁵according to the promise he made to our ancestors,
to Abraham and to his descendants for ever.’

Angels Everywhere

2009-12-07T08:28:00.000-08:00

Recently our son Brendan was in a serious car accident. Thankfully, he is home and recovering well. Often when tragedy hits, we are at the mercy of strangers. The phone call came the evening before Thanksgiving. We were thrust into a world we didn't wish to enter. Mercifully, we encountered angels everywhere.

It was dusk when I rushed out of my car, running toward the flashing lights. A chorus of voices called from a porch, "Mom, mom...he's over here. He's alright." Malcolm had arrived ahead of me. He and the family that lived in the home surrounding Brendan. A woman wrapped Brendan in a blanket, apologizing for the pink princess design. She offered to take him inside.

After arriving at the hospital in Cullman, we were told that Brendan would have to be airlifted to UAB's trauma unit--he had broken a vertebrae. Nauseous, I angsted over whether we should stay with Brendan until the helicopter arrived, or to get a head start so we could get to UAB soon after Brendan would. The ER nurse assured us she would stay with him every minute until the chopper came and call us as soon as he took off. Then she touched Malcolm's elbow, "Sir, you have one job right now and that is NOT to try and beat that helicopter, because you won't and your son needs you to get there safely." Hating to leave, we knew Brendan was in caring hands.

Angels everywhere...the chaplain waiting for Brendan to arrive and stay with him until we could get to UAB...the nurse who sat with me when I needed to leave the room and catch my breath...the friend, who is a medical professional, who stayed in the ER well past midnight, protectively overseeing Brendan's care...friends and strangers, earning wings with tenderness beyond duty...meeting our questions, our eyes, our hearts with compassionate care.

Brendan arrived at his room around 3:30 am. A team of nurses and nursing assistants converged on him, mothering, soothing, kidding with him...reassuring both of us, "He's gonna be alright. These young healthy ones, they do great!"

I asked for a washcloth to bathe him. One of the assistants came back with a pan of warm, soapy water and a pile of washcloths. She held out her hand with a white cloth and my mind flashed on kneeling at the rail, hands outstretched to receive the Eucharist. Gently she smiled at me, "Mama, you get on that side and I'll be on this one. We gonna do this together." Then she turned to Brendan, smoothed his forehead with her thumb, "We gonna take good care of you baby. Don't you worry. You are a sweet boy...Your mama and I are gonna take real good care of you. You had a hard night, but it's gonna get better. I promise you. It's gonna get better. Just relax, we'll get this stuff off of you. Just relax." I have heard it said, "Every breath you take is the breath of God." This angel whose name I do not even remember, reminded me to breathe...that there was a Loving Presence among us, sustaining us...whose hands were holding out washcloths like Communion wafers.

Ours was truly a Thanksgiving filled with blessings. For that we are grateful. Namaste

Money, Money, Money...

2009-11-06T10:01:00.000-08:00

Sometimes people believe since I spent the early part of my career as a financial planner, I have some magical financial gifts. If only...I struggle as much or more than the next person with my relationship to money. In fairness, those early years might have ruined me. It was the late 1980's and I was instructed to work only with people earning six figures and worth over $1 million. I was surrounded by extravagant lifestyles...travel, clothes, fine wine and dining. Oh, those were the days!

Many of my wealthy clients were very happy...had families they loved and meaningful work. These folks seemed to have a healthy attitude about their money--they enjoyed it, but they weren't defined by it. There was an openness about them...with their resources and with their hearts. Working with them was rewarding and enjoyable. They seemed to appreciate the gifts they had been given.

Others seemed to have insatiable appetites for more, and a fierce determination to hold on to what they had--no matter what the cost. I remember a young surgeon earning $450,000 per year. He had every luxury you might expect for someone in his situation, but he was overly-concerned about losing his money. It was as if holding on tight caused him great pain. His wealth was a source of stress, instead of relief. When I reviewed his tax return and saw he only donated $1,500 per year to charity, I was disappointed (and judgmental). This same man repeatedly cancelled appointments and had little respect for my time. Ultimately, I fired him as a client.

When Malcolm traveled to Zambia five years ago he was deeply touched by the generous spirit of the people there. Even though most earned less than $1 per day, they seemed to be living joyfully. Young orphans in tattered clothes prayed fervently with Malcolm, they laughed and played on the grounds of the Catholic Convent they called "home." A woman living in nothing more than a tin shack smiled broadly when she learned Malcolm was a minister and wanted him to know, "God has been good to me!" Families destroyed by AIDS would take in yet another mouth to feed, sharing the little that they had.

This money thing, it is tricky for many of us. I am not saying we should live as if we were in a third world economy. Thankfully, money allows us to have and do many great things. It can also own us, become an obsession, hold too high of a place in our hearts. Tangled in the web of our money beliefs are messages from our parents, cultural norms, past successes and failures, fears about the economy, desires to look and feel good. Some of the most important decisions we make have to do with how we choose to earn, save, give, and spend our money.

I wonder if our African brothers and sisters don't have a lesson for us about smiling in the sun, regardless of what we are wearing, giving thanks for the blessings we do have, and making room for those in need.

Could it be that our relationship with money reflects something deeper in our hearts? How does our relationship with money impact our other relationships? Financial freedom is a term that has been defined many ways. I wonder if it doesn't have something to do with appreciating what we have, living within our means, and sharing the gifts we have been given with great joy. I wonder if financial freedom isn't about appreciating the ebb and flow...receiving...giving...receiving...giving.

I invite you to take some time and consider:

How would I define my relationship with money?
In what way(s) does money impact relationships with others?
What does financial freedom mean to me?
What one step could I take today to better align my money with my values?

Namaste

The Holy Mystery

2009-10-31T15:03:00.000-07:00

Franciscan monk and contemplative, Richard Rohr spoke in Atlanta last Saturday. Over 500 people filled the pews at St. Phillip Episcopal Cathedral. Humble and humorous, Fr. Richard kept us spell-bound for hours. Below are just a few morsels from the ten pages of notes that I took.

The dualistic mind doesn't like mystery. When we have a new experience we divide the field...that which we agree with and like--we welcome. The negative, problematic, and different--we eliminate.
To be non-dualistic is to hold the paradox, the dark and the light. (way oversimplified, but gives a taste of his teaching on this)
The dualistic mind is not bad, it allows us to read, learn, etc., but it can not go far enough.
We need a Capernican Revolution...just as we learned that the earth is not the center of the universe; the soul has to suffer the the same displacement...God is the center, not us.
People who have love of God have tremendous humility...when you meet the Holy One, you know that you don't know.
Karl Rahner said that we should not use the word "God" for fifty years. Instead, we should use the term, "Holy Mystery" because to name It is to act as if we understand It.
From David White poem, "What to Remember When Waking," "what you can plan is too small for you to live."
The Reformation was oppositional...contemplation died in the Reformation because it focused on opposition.
What we call contemplation today, was simply called prayer.
The "third eye" is a Christian term.
The Enlightenment wasn't very enlightening.
The dualistic mind is not a joyful mind.
You are present when head space, heart space, and gut space can open at the same time...keep mind space open...don't form your conclusions...do not judge. (notes for the heart and body opening were too long to simplify, sorry!)
Find the gift of your soul and find a way to give this gift. It usually doesn't involve making money.

If you would like to learn more about Richard Rohr and his work you may go to the website for the Center for Action and Contemplation. He is truly a transformational teacher. Namaste

Out of the Mouths of Babes

2009-10-29T07:15:00.000-07:00

"What was your disappointing news Mom?" Brendan asked. After I told him he wondered, "What will you do now?"

"I don't know. I am too sad, mad, and hurt to make decisions right now." I replied, "Experience tells me this is the time to wait, not the time to act."

A long pause followed.

"You know that comtemplative prayer you do? You might want to spend some time with that." He suggested. Then after another pause he added, "And a lot of people are going to think they know what you should do, but only you can know that mom. Just remember that."

AHHHHHH, and the student becomes the teacher. Namaste

Community Carries Us

2009-10-29T06:57:00.001-07:00

At dinner, I was surrounded by long-time friends...kidding with one another in the way only those who know us best can.

Each of the women at the table was carrying some form of pain...dreams dashed...marriages sputtering toward collapse...adult children making poor choices...parents and pets dying.

And still there was laughter...HOLY LAUGHTER.

And yes there were tears...HOLY TEARS.

Perhaps this is what is meant by church. Honest, loving community carrying one another, honoring the Holy Mystery with our reverence and presence for one another. Namaste

Dance of the Fog

2009-10-21T05:01:00.000-07:00

A single lamp lit the great room...darkness shrouding the house. During morning prayers, the shadows had parted...opening to grey/blue skies accented with pink...fog rising from the water.

Earthbound clouds shift and move with each breath. To stand watch over their dance is to remember the fluidity and fragility of life. If I walk away for even a moment, I risk missing some miraculous, momentary formation.

In the summer the lake is a cool respite from scorching Southern heat...busy with boats, parties on docks, children squealing with delight. Fall brings cold feet on the deck, rose-breasted grosbeaks at the feeder, and the dance of the morning fog. Namaste

Don't Fight It

2009-10-20T13:53:00.001-07:00

"I love your new hair!" My friend exclaimed. "It is as if your face isn't fighting for attention with your hair anymore." I thought that was such a funny line...face and hair vying for attention. But then I told her, "I just got tired of the time and money involved with dying it. I figured, chop it all off and let's see what is really underneath. I have been fighting my natural color for over 20 years!"

I love this new "do." I don't know if I look any better or worse, but I do know that it is fabulous not to waste any time or gobs of money on coloring. And in the past, I have LOVED coloring! It is so short now, that when I go swimming...it is shake your head simple.

For years I was afraid to reveal the true head of hair underneath the decades of processed chemicals...kinda like the anxiety we can feel when we consider exposing the essence of who we truly are.

The expectations we have for ourselves, and others have for us, layer upon us like processed personhood...until one day, we can't remember what we really look like; who we really are.

In fact, similar to when those grey roots start to peak out, we can be quick to cover up our true nature...what if it isn't pretty? What if others don't like "her?" And without even realizing it, we have been fighting ourselves for years, maybe even decades.

How many self-inflicted battles have I borne because of "self" denial? It can be so easy for me to support others to "listen to that still small voice," but when mine comes up with some unconventional wisdom, I question it greatly.

I admire my wise friends who have dropped the struggle with themselves long ago. I yearn to be like them...revealing their roots (and I'm not talking hair here), exposing their hopes and dreams, living into the presence of this moment, rather than wondering how they will be perceived...unguarded, vulnerable, loving. These men and women who have put down their arms are truly inspirational. Namaste

Living Awake

2009-10-08T09:51:00.000-07:00

Jenny sees funny things the rest of us miss. Her humor is never mean-spirited, she simply sees irony everywhere. One time, she was in church and the fire and brimstone minister was exuberantly singing, "When the roll is called up yonder I'll be there!" All the while, jabbing his pointed finger toward the ground. That one, it makes her bust a gut!

The other day, she sent me a text message I only half understood about the guy in the cow suit for chik-fil-a waving in the wrong direction. What I did understand was the end of her message, "Tell me this is not the funniest planet ever!" My reply was, "It is if you live awake like you do."

A couple of weeks ago one of our friends brought over his 18 month-old and 2 1/2 year-old daughters. His wife was out of town and he wanted to watch a football game with Malcolm. I got to play "auntie" for a couple of hours.

It has been a while since small children have blessed this house. I took the girls into Brendan and Kiki's rooms and they picked out two huge stuffed St. Bernards to play with. We laid the dogs on the carpet. One of the adults would count, "one, two, three!" and the girls would jump onto the stuffed dogs, clinging to their necks, rolling and laughing. This process was repeated innumerable times...each jump followed by squeals of glee as if it was the first one.

Their joy was infectious, Malcolm and I were making silly faces, grabbing the camera...energized by their ALIVENESS!

Little children remind us how to live awake...wonder, joy, playing until you need a nap, making funny faces, dancing, loving, laughing, LOOKING.

At what age do we stop seeing that we do in fact live on the funniest, most beautiful planet? Is it a gradual or sudden process? When was the first time I mindlessly drove home, ignoring the sun setting on the pasture of white calves near Miss Stella's house?

What would it be like if tomorrow morning, instead of "getting out of bed," I decided to "wake up?" Even if my day isn't filled with stuffed St. Bernard's to jump on; even if there were a few rottweilers nipping my heels, I wonder if my experience of life wouldn't be richer if I engaged all of my senses in this process of being...eyes and heart fully open.

I hope I will be inspired by Jenny and the girls and LIVE AWAKE. Namaste

Devotion that Inspires

2009-10-05T12:03:00.000-07:00

"Why don't you schedule the surgery?" I asked my friend. He had been experiencing excruciating back pain and recently found out there was a surgery that might alleviate his discomfort.

"I have a special gift I'm finishing up. The doctor said there is a chance I will not be able to do my woodworking for a while, maybe ever again, after the surgery. It will take some time, but I want to finish this gift beforehand. I want to know it is done." He replied.

Knowing how much his pain had impacted his physical and emotional well being, my initial reaction was open-mouthed astonishment.

As the day wore on, I kept coming back to our conversation...wondering about the spark of love that was carrying him through his pain...love for the recipient...love for his art...

I was haunted by the sense of legacy in his voice...to know this gift of his handiwork would live on years beyond his physical body.

Oh, to love with such devotion...Oh to live with such passion...Namaste

Day 41: A Grateful Heart

2009-10-04T13:47:00.000-07:00

Mine is a grateful heart...
for the Spirit-led nudge to write ...

for your companionship...

This morning the alarm went off before sunrise. A fruitful time before dawn...darkness pregnant with promise. Coffee in one hand, journal in the other, I penned my thoughts about the time which we marked for renewal. What has been renewed? What have I learned? So much has happened...

I will share with you a couple of thoughts about my experience of the past 40 days in hopes that they might have meaning for you.

Discipline is not a dirty word.
I didn't realize when I committed to write each day how many obstacles I would encounter. My guess is, this would be the case for most of us. Below are just a few of the times I struggled with keeping to my commitment.

When we traveled to Utah, I just wanted to hang out with Malcolm, Mom, and Dad. At first I resented anything that would interfere with my down time. But the vacation was richer for the writing...reclaiming prompted Malcolm and me to ride the chair lift to the top of the mountain, and mountain bike down. (Luckily Malcolm recovered from his fall...a whole other story. We truly LOVED the beauty and the experience of pushing ourselves physically in the outdoors.)

The morning after we flew back home from from vacation, I received a text message from Brendan, "Swine flu have to come home." When we walked in the door after I had driven over 7 hours back and forth from Auburn, all I wanted to do was tend to my 6'4" "baby." Yet it was good for him, and for me, to give him space. My computer probably saved him some smothering. (Did you ever notice that "mothering" is contained in "smothering?) In any case, "Listening To Our Bodies" was a result of my mortification that Brendan had spent 48 hours alone in his dorm room in misery before going to get help.

One Saturday, after 5 hours of sitting in the rain watching a college football game, showering and snuggling up on the couch seemed like a great plan. Thankfully, our hostess, Ina encouraged me to sit at their computer and write...I came dangerously close to bailing that night. The downside of that decision much greater for me than for any of my readers. Ina's presence inspired the post on being an encourager.

Last weekend our internet router crashed. The only way to get "connected" was to drive 40 minutes into town and write at Berkeley Bob's coffee shop. It was raining (again) and for some reason, making the trek to town seemed more daunting than it should have. Thankfully, Malcolm tagged along to keep me company.

I don't share with you this litany of speed bumps along the road so that you will feel sorry for me or think highly of me. Many of you overcome obstacles much greater each day. I know a few of you are commuting to seminaries in Atlanta from homes in Alabama; one of you has endured pneumonia; Brendan was not the only one impacted by swine-flu; at least one of you has been given an unwelcome diagnosis; children have been sent to college; ailing parents have been tended; husbands have experienced disturbing symptoms; jobs have been lost. And yet, in the midst of these challenges, you have carried on.

Some days I have felt the "finished product" was better than others. Yet when it was most difficult to write, I found great meaning in the process. I can't help but wonder if there wasn't a touch of grace in my focus shifting from "getting it done," to desiring to touch souls...to being faithful to my promise. I am reminded that the promise is fulfilled when we stay disciplined in following our hearts.

Community carries us.
Thank you for your insights and encouragement...this was not a lonely pursuit. Knowing anyone was following, was reason enough to "show up" each day. Thank you for inspiring me...helping to reignite the flame. We are all better people because of those who carry us and those whom we choose to carry.

Art makes us better observers/participants in life.
I remember when I was writing Dancing Naked Under the Moon: Uncovering the Wisdom Within I realized how I noticed details in a deeper way. Something about taking the time to write...in a journal...on a blog...to a loved one, opens up the pathway to SEEING differently. At times, I have felt the presence of this new way of SEEING, it is so alive! I have heard painters say that when they are painting, they see more colors, more detail in their lives.

I want to take this series and carry it another step or two or three or four or wherever the Spirit might want to carry it. Can you envision a booklet...for individuals...with a facilitator's guide in the back...small groups could gather to support and share once a week...perhaps the exercises, the community will benefit those who are desiring an experiential faith. I can feel it wanting to be born. Any thoughts you might have are most welcome.

I will continue to write on this blog...maybe not every day, but frequently...other series themes are bubbling up. You will continue to receive the new posts unless you "unsubscribe."

Again, THANK YOU! Namaste

Day 40: You Did It!

2009-10-03T11:00:00.000-07:00

Ah, so here we are...day 40 of 40. You did it! I cannot thank you enough for walking with me. Knowing you were by my side inspired me greatly.

Do you remember what was happening in your life when we started on August 24th? Is it hard to believe this time has passed so quickly?

When I wrote that first post for the series, I briefly summarized the significance of the number 40 in the Bible and mentioned, "Each of these examples speaks to a time of testing which led to renewal and the fulfillment of promises."

I wonder, have you experience a time of testing or a sense of renewal? How about the fulfillment of any promises?

There are no right or wrong answers; this is simply a wonderful opportunity to reflect on where we have been these past 40 days. How are you the same? How are you different? What shifted? What didn't?

In that first post I quoted Shah Nazar Ali Kianfar, a Sufi master, "40 days, according to the teachings and practice of the prophets and holy masters, is the mystical number of the course of perfection, a course that leads to an experience of the true essence of one's humanity."

And I mused..."by staying committed to this practice, for this period of time, we open ourselves to a greater likelihood of 'experiencing the essence of one's humanity;' that the path on this journey will take unimagined twists and turns."

I know for me, this has come to pass. But I am more interested in you. How, if at all, you have experienced the essence of your humanity? Has this journey taken any unexpected twists and turns?

Give yourself at least 20 minutes to reflect, perhaps even journal about how this time has been for you. (Preferably you will give yourself the gift of an hour...soft music, candles, incense the works...hey, create your own ritual of completion...high five yourself in the mirror...bow to the North, South, East, and West...give thanks to God...go for it!)

Have you felt a sense of playful exploration and tried some of the suggested exercises? If so, what were your favorites? Did you simply read and feed your soul that way? Did you remember to feed your soul? Was it enjoyable? Was it hard?

What has happened in your life since late August? What has been exciting? Have you been disappointed? Surprised by grace? Steeped in frustration? How have you grown? How is your connection to the Divine? To yourself? To others?

If you like, share your thoughts in the comment section below or send me an email.

I hope you will indulge me; tomorrow I am going to write a Day 41 to share some of my reflections on our time together and the ideas which have birthed from this journey. For me, you have been a midwife; I imagine you too are giving birth.

You have touched me deeply. Thank you...May you be happy...May you be healthy....May you be peaceful....May you know LOVE...Namaste

Day 39: Sacred Space

2009-10-02T08:14:00.000-07:00

"The Celtic tradition honors the nearness and every day presence of the Divine...God is to be found by looking deeply into life." Jerry Wright, Minister and Jungian Analyst.

"God is to be found looking deeply into life."

Looking deeply into life...Deeply into life...
Into life...Life...

All of life is an opening to God. Pouring coffee in the morning, driving to work, listening to a friend, cooking dinner, walking the dog, crying over a sad movie, laughing with a loved one, getting angry, making love,...God is to be found looking deeply into life.

We need not travel far, or look for God "out there." The Celts were aware of the "radical imminence of God." Jerry Wright believes, "God is not a 'Being,' but BEING itself; the animating presence of all life."

What beautiful imagery. How easy it can be to lose sight of this radical imminence. Life takes over and we forget the divinity in each breath. Emotions grip us and we forget to lean into them with the loving support of the "Animating Presence." Such is the path of the human.

Rabbi Rami Shapiro says it well, "Remembering and Forgetting is my spiritual path." And so it is.

For many of us, creating a daily ritual is a touchstone, reminder of the "imminence of God." Others also have designated space in their homes or apartments where they go to commune with God.

I have an old chest underneath a window overlooking a garden. Placed on the chest are beautiful cards I have been given by Sr. Mary, my sister Kathy, and a iconography of Mary Magdalene painted by one of the sisters at St. Helena. There are also painted stones of Buddhist monks, a chalice made by Kiki at camp years ago, Rhonda's pink rosary beads, mala beads, a gift of sand given by Brendan long ago, a picture of Lama Norlha, a candle from Caroline, an iconography of the trinity from Sandra, an incense holder, a hand painted Ukrainian egg made by Sr. KC, a Celtic cross from Patty, Boomer's purple dog collar, a wooden statue of Mary and Jesus that Mom brought back from Oberammergau, and a prayer shawl made by a retreat participant. This is my altar. In front of the altar is a purple meditation cushion and zafu given as a birthday gift from Malcolm years ago.

Yes, God is found looking deeply into life...in all the moments that make a life. And for me, taking time to light candles, burn incense, sit in silence and honor and acknowledge the Animating Presence is a touchstone in each day. A call to home. A call to forgive. A call to ask forgiveness. A call to love. A call to laugh. A call to cry. A call to BE.

If you have a daily ritual and/or sacred space in your home, take a moment and consider what this ritual/space is and how it feeds you. Could you benefit from "refreshing" it in some way? New candles? A new prayer? Perhaps it is lovely as it is...give thanks.

If you do not have a daily ritual and/or sacred space in your home. I encourage you to take time to create them. Have fun with this. What is meaningful to you? What reminds you of the Sacred?

If you would like any support in putting this together, please feel free to email me at mary@marybeasullivan.com. Enjoy! Namaste

Day 38: Can You Throw Me a Line?

2009-10-01T08:03:00.001-07:00

As the sun faded over the tree-lined hills, the glow from the nearly-full moon blazed brighter and brighter. Boat gently rocking on still water, an owl hooting nearby; the shrill cry from an unidentified bird; insects singing their night songs...what a peaceful way to end the day.

Feeling grateful and ready to head home, Malcolm turned the key in the engine...rrrrr...chug...rrrr. Not a comforting sound. He tried again, and again, and again...until the smell of gas alerted us to give the engine a rest.

We were about two miles from home. Before we knew we would be stranded, we had gone out of our way to find a secluded spot on the lake from which to watch the sunset. There were no houses nearby and the temperature was dropping fast. It had been over an hour since we had seen another boat.

Resting the engine for a while, Malcolm tried again....rrrr....chug....chug...rrrr. We were literally dead in the water. Snuggling in close for warmth we tried to console ourselves by focusing on the magnificent array of stars twinkling in the fall sky. We joked that it could be worse, and created a number of those possible scenarios.

Hesitant to "be a bother," we finally found the number for a neighbor and called for help. Luckily, they were here at the lake, and not at their home in Birmingham. We don't know these neighbors well. We have done little, if nothing to promote friendship with them. They immediately offered to come and tow us with their boat. Malcolm thanked them profusely. As we waited, it was easier to enjoy the night sky, knowing help was on the way.

When our neighbors arrived, they pulled up close and threw us a rope to tie to our boat. We chatted amicably while the boat was being secured...learned a little bit about who was staying with them this week...how they had been caring for elderly parents...that their grown children had moved back home. Details of their lives we had not taken any time to learn until this moment, made possible by the rope which now connected us.

Reflecting on the generous spirit of our neighbors I thought about how hard it is for most of us to ask someone to "throw us a rope." Pride, discomfort with vulnerability, not wanting to inconvenience others, and a number of other reasons, make it tough to reach out in our darkest moments.

Conversely, I also thought about a family member who has been asking me to "throw her a line" in a roundabout way. Feeling busy, I haven't taken the time to offer that which might help tow her toward home.

Independence is valued greatly in our world. Yet, it is opening to interdependence that we learn the gentle flow of giving...receiving...giving...receiving...LOVING and LIVING together.

Do you need someone to throw you a line? Are you stuck, sad, hurt and afraid to ask for help? Sit with this...what do you need? who might help you? how could you ask?

Is there someone who has been reaching out for help? How could you offer a hand without feeling resentful?

Well, I need to run next door to deliver my "thank you" gift. I'm looking forward to getting to know my neighbor better. Namaste

Day 37: Wu Wei

2009-09-30T13:33:00.000-07:00

Malcolm is starting a new job next week. In an effort to create space between his old position, which he held for 15 years, and his new one, he is taking this week off.

In his new role, Malcolm will be the Director of Pastoral Care at UAB Hospital. Ordained as a minister 30 years ago, he has never worn a clerical collar. But Malcolm has been thinking it would be nice to wear one at the hospital so patients, families, and staff would know that he is a minister...kind of like when you see a white coat, you know that person is a doctor.

Yesterday was not the respite Malcolm had hoped for. After numerous hours scouring websites and a trip in to Birmingham visiting three different stores, (with incredibly s-l-o-w help!) Malcolm could not find the shirts and collars he wanted to wear.

A patient soul by nature, he became agitated, frustrated...the shirt search fiasco, the manifestation of any anxiety he had about his new job. When we arrived home late last night he announced, "I think I am just going to wear a shirt and tie and wait to decide about wearing this collar." It seemed like wisdom to me...from the beginning, the shirt search was cause for consternation and questioning.

Also, the shirt search is a stark contrast to Malcolm's taking this new position. He had not been looking for a job; in fact loved his position and the people he had been working with. A phone call from an old friend...an updated resume...numerous discussions that became more and more energizing...job offer...acceptance...

Thinking back on Malcolm's experience, I am reminded of the Taoist term, wu wei (pronounced woo way). In essence, wu wei speaks to effortless action that comes from being tuned in with "the eternal Tao." According to Wikipedia, "the purpose of wu wei is to be aligned with the Tao, and as a result, attain an irresistible form of soft and invisible power."

Rough Christian translation, "Be still and know that I am God," and wait to act from the stillness....connecting with the stirring of the Holy Spirit. But too often in our culture, pushing to get ahead, or rushing to do too much, takes precedence over "effortless action."

How many times have we found ourselves swimming against the current...struggling to create something whose time had not yet come? On the other hand, isn't it profoundly rewarding when, with apparent ease, we feel as if we are swimming downstream?

In the Taoist philosophy, intention is the key. Wu wei is not about inaction, but taking right action at the right time, with right intention. The Tao Te Ching (pronounced Dao De Jing) is a classic Chinese text believed to be written around 6th century B.C. by Lao Tzu. Chapter 2 refers to this concept of wu wei:

The Sage is occupied with the unspoken

and acts without effort.

Teaching without verbosity,

producing without possessing,

creating without regard to result,

claiming nothing,

the Sage has nothing to lose.

When in your life have you felt like you were pushing hard, swimming upstream with great effort? What happened? Are you experiencing that somewhere in your life right now? Could you take time to be still and wait for a sense of right intention, right timing, and right action?

Conversely, when have you experienced "effortless action?" Can you identify some of the qualities of your way of being in that experience? Were there things you did/didn't do that helped create this sense of wu wei?

Take time in prayer...journal about these questions and/or the passage above from the Tao Te Ching and how it relates to your life.

I am happy to report Malcolm is wuing his wei out to enjoy the gorgeous fall weather from the deck...Namaste

For more information on Wu Wei you may want to read this article by Ted Kardash

Day 36: Love God Love Neighbor

2009-09-29T07:15:00.000-07:00

In her book, The Desert Mothers, Rev. Mary C. Earle quotes Amma Syncletica as saying, "Salvation is exactly this--the two-fold love of God and of our neighbor."

Sounds familiar doesn't it? Many of us have heard/read Matthew 22:36-40 many times. "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and all your soul, and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: Love your neighbor as yourself. All the Law and all the Prophets hang on these two commandments."

Easy to read...not so easy to live.

Earle contends that one of the perennial truths of the desert tradition was the scriptural description of humanity as being made "in the image and likeness of God." (Genesis 1:26) Maybe this is where we get hung up. Some of the people we come across have done such a great job of covering up their image and likeness of anything good that finding a nugget of God in them is like digging for a single diamond in a 600 acre field.

But dig we must.

Wouldn't it be great if we could only have people around us that we found easy to get along with? People who affirmed us, agreed with us, made us feel so good. Oh, what an easy life that would be!! Not very realistic though.

Dig we must.

I find inspiration in Rachel Naomi Remen's, My Grandfather's Blessings, Remen describes a teaching from the Kabbalah (the mystical teachings of Judaism), "...at some point in the beginning of things, the Holy was broken up into countless sparks, which were scattered throughout the universe. There is a god spark in everyone and in everything, a sort of diaspora of goodness."

Oh, I want to mine this "god spark" and be so bold as to help others to find it in themselves. Hey, that might be part of the answer...if we can believe in our own being created in the image and likeness of God, perhaps it would be easier to find it in others.

It always comes back to practice for me...practical reminders of staying on the path.

When I attended a retreat facilitated by Mary Earle she taught us a beautiful mantra. I love to use it in walking (or running believe it or not) meditation.

If you want to try this, take time, hopefully out in nature (this is also beautiful to practice in a labyrinth or a sanctuary), breathe in a prayer of gratitude, create an intention for your time, then slowly place your left foot on the ground thinking or saying out loud, "Love God." When you intentionally place your right foot on the ground think or say, "Love Neighbor." As you walk, slowly repeat with each footfall, "Love God...Love Neighbor....Love God....Love Neighbor...Love God...Love Neighbor...Love God...Love Neighbor..." Namaste

Note: the term Amma is given to an abbess or a spiritual mother. Isn't it a beautiful word? Who are some of the Ammas in your life? I give thanks for all of mine!

Day 35: Savin' Aint Lovin'

2009-09-28T09:08:00.000-07:00

The other day I was with a group of people and someone suggested I might be able to help an organization that was in great need. One of the women at the table jokingly placed her hand in front of her mouth, turning from the other woman saying, "You don't have to be the savior...don't save them!"

When Brendan and Kiki were younger I would frequently want to rescue them from feeling any hurt or pain. Shouldn't I protect them? But sometimes my protecting went well beyond what was healthy for them or healthy for me.

Their first year in a new high school, Brendan was playing football and Kiki had decided not to play a sport that season. Other than Brendan, she didn't know anyone at the school and wanted me to come and pick her up, hang out with her in town until after his practice was over and then drive them both home.

For the first week I accommodated Kiki, but I began to resent the time spent in a coffee shop waiting when I had so many other things I could be doing. The next week I informed Kiki she would have to find something to do on campus until Brendan was finished. She was angry and apprehensive. When 3:15 rolled around on the first day of our new schedule, I had a pit in my stomach; every inch of my being wanted to swoop in and save her from being alone...uncomfortable...scared.

I picked them up at 5:30 and Kiki seemed fine, but would not admit anything positive about her experience. By the end of the week, she had found a cadre of girls to hang out with that four years later continue to be her closest friends.

Of course, sometimes when we choose not to be the hero and fill the void, things don't work out so well. Loved ones struggling with addiction can be particularly difficult. The line between being supportive and standing in the way of the another's growth is razor thin.

When I was going through my divorce, I started to understand that "savin' aint lovin." Also, that my need to be the savior said more about my need to be needed; need to control the situation, than it did about the other person.

Take a few minutes to reflect: Is there someone, or some organization, that you repeatedly feel you need to save? Sit with this for a while...why don't I trust the other to be able to solve this on their own? What am I afraid will happen if I don't rescue? What need am I trying to fulfill by being the savior? How could I do this differently? Be gentle with yourself and the other...this savin'/lovin' confusion is widespread. If we can be honest with ourselves and approach the relationship from a different place, we may find a wonderful new way of truly loving. Namaste

Day 34: OutPouring

2009-09-27T10:10:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I hold back...don't fully invest myself in a relationship or a project. Do you ever do that? There are different reasons for hesitating, trust...time...are probably the two biggies.

Cynthia Borgeault tells of Jesus' self-emptying...I like to think of it as OutPouring, with reckless abandon. That doesn't sound safe to me at all, very risky stuff.

What if I pour all of myself into a relationship and that person doesn't live up to my expectations, or they hurt me? Emptying myself sounds like a prescription for burnout.

And yet, others have poured all of themselves into loving me...I have benefited from my mother's love; friends who supported me when I was grieving; Malcolm's unbridled generosity toward Brendan, Kiki, and me.

I have been hurt before because I set up expectations for how I wanted to the other person to respond to my expressions of love. Maybe this OutPouring has more to do with the giving of gifts and nothing to do with keeping track...of getting credit...reciprocation...any expectation of something in return.

Wouldn't it be great to be able to pour out the gifts we have to share...gift of a smile, gift of a compassionate ear, gift of food, gift of healing...any gift, with our sole focus being the OutPouring of what we choose to share? I wonder how much more joyful would be our giving.

Maybe I could avoid burnout if I made sure I only gave what I had to give as opposed to giving what I think I should give. Wow! That would be kinda different.

There is a place in my life where I have been holding back...playing safe...afraid to pour out all of what I have to give. I don't want to be rejected, or hurt, but that self-limiting talk is an affront to the Giver of all gifts. I want to love with reckless abandon, stop counting the costs and waiting for something in return.

Is there a place in your life where you are holding back? Could you be so brave as to Pour Out all that you have with joy and hope and trust that there is great abundance from which you may give? I wish you well in this endeavor, perhaps we could support each other in this consuming way of loving. Namaste.

Day 33: Being With Paradox

2009-09-26T12:11:00.000-07:00

When we see our world in "either/or" terms we narrow our vision considerably. It can be easy to make assumptions based upon a small amount of information. Consider politics these days. If you are a Democrat, it has become natural to assume all Republicans are "bad." Republicans do the same in regard to Democrats. This kind of thinking makes for simple sorting, but not a very deep way of being.

The truth is, we are a world of "both/and;" a world of paradox.

Taking the political example one step further...although I may not agree with someone regarding health care, I might find we share a passion for empowering teenagers to be the best they can. But finding that out would require being with the paradox...slowing down the sorting system.

The sorting system causes unnecessary pain in relationships. Inevitably, human beings make mistakes. After we have categorized a person, or an institution as "good," when they do something to hurt or disappoint us, we become disillusioned. If we harbor unrealistic expectations for others to be "all good all the time," it's a long fall from the pedestal. The messiness of relationship requires missteps and forgiveness...abiding in a love that is greater than our human frailties...and it calls us to be with the paradox.

Richard Rohr reminds us that Christ turned the world on its head with teachings like, "He causes the sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and unrighteous." Mt 5:45. Rohr and other teachers compel us to move beyond the "either/or" way of thinking and instead move to the "both/and" way of being.

HOW??

Not easy...maybe we can acknowledge when we are sorting, and slow the process. Being with paradox is not an exercise of the brain, but the heart...the brain is thinking based, the heart-sensation based.

Sitting in meditation or contemplative prayer each day helps us to develop this sensation-based way of being. It allows us to expand the capacity for our inner observer and develop the patience to wait...to respond rather than react.

Take at least five minutes, preferably twenty, and sit in silence...notice your breathing, feel the air moving through your nostrils, down to your chest, back up and out again. Simply stay with your breathing...if you are distracted by thoughts, just come back to your breathing...

Also, this week make an extra effort to open your horizons and dialogue with or reach out to someone who you previously would have sorted out of your life. Enjoy being with the paradox. Namaste

Day 32: Life as a Prayer

2009-09-25T09:58:00.000-07:00

"Mom, I don't understand, my whole life is a prayer." That was Kiki's response to a question I posed during a "home church" service a few years ago.

What a mind-blower!

There is a lot of confusion about prayer. Once I read a book that made it seem as if we prayed in just the "right" way we could manifest whatever we wanted in our lives. Kind of like a prayer ATM. When I tried this "practice" I found myself concerned about whether I was doing it right. If things didn't work out the way I thought they should, I would wonder if I had prayed wrong. How crazy is that?

The book and movie, "The Secret" has been an answer to prayer for the author, but I am not so sure about the rest of us. It seems like an extension of the thinking that angered me when Rhonda was dying of cancer. Think/pray the right way and this cancer will go away...a fabulous way to heap guilt on those who are sick, or poor, or suffering in some way.

Maybe the REAL SECRET is to attain an inner peace no matter what the external circumstances...not some mindset that can't find the Sacred in the suffering; or a materialistic prosperity prayer. (Nothing wrong with prosperity mind you.)

I know some folks are tired of "God language" being used as a club to beat their way of thinking into other's heads. Showy, public displays of prayer fly in the face of Jesus' command to, "go into your room, close the door and pray...." Matthew 6:6

Some people wonder if intercessory prayer is an arrogant way of telling God what to do...Also, there is an uncomfortable connotation here that perhaps God is a puppeteer pulling strings, "HMMMM let's give Mary a dose of cancer and fix Joey's broken radiator...Oops! Nevermind, he prayed the wrong way!"

The Quakers have a beautiful way of holding people and intentions, "in the light." Since learning of this practice, when I know of someone in need; or I am thinking about someone I love and want to bless, I "hold them in the light." Taking a moment to send blessing is a way for me to love that person...and to trust the LOVE which created all of us.

Those of us who desire a connection to the Sacred/God/Beloved/Divine/Love...whatever name you want to use, crave a way to communicate...a way to be in relationship.

If we were to take Kiki's perspective on prayer-what is it we are praying? Are we praying good will and love? Are we praying worry and strife? Are we praying healing, supportive presence? Are we praying anger and jealousy? What are our prayers??

Mother Theresa said, "I always begin my prayers in silence, for it is in the silence of the heart that God speaks. God is the friend of silence. We need to listen to God, because it is not what we say, but what God says to us and through us that matters."

Couldn't sleep last night, the after-dinner pot of decaf turned out to be regular. Then this morning I woke up too early...4:30. Before I knew it, I found my tired self on my knees, hands folded, head on the couch. Words wouldn't come...just emotion...just desire for connection...just a sense that taking the time to remember there is a Benevolent Presence breathing with me, that matters. Blissful silence...

I am wondering if all prayers don't come back to this...how can I live my life like a prayer? What would be the most LOVING thing I could do in this moment? If that were our guiding principle, how much better would our world be?

Holding you "in the light." Namaste

Day 31: Hidden Things

2009-09-24T17:15:00.000-07:00

Daisy was running circles around me on the deck...watching me put my sneakers on, anticipating a rare evening walk. To her disappointment, Brendan called just as we were ready to head out. I sat back down on the deck and reveled in his stories. Watching the sky darken, I wasn't sure I would be able to fulfill my promise to Daisy and hear all Brendan wanted to share.

To Daisy's delight, I hung up the phone and Malcolm grabbed a flashlight for a jaunt down the road. Rain and a busy schedule have kept us from our walking routine. Purple asters dotted the roadside; goldenrod burst with delight...much more spectacular from this vantage point than whizzing by in a car.

By the time we turned toward home, the sky had changed considerably. We stopped at the top of the driveway and looked up. Off to the right was an orange/pink finale to a spectacular sunset; just above...dark clouds; and to the left clear skies with an occasional wisp of a cloud. Most striking of all, a luminous crescent moon...and a lone, brilliant star.

When we began our journey, we didn't see the moon or the star. Yet it was there all along, simply waiting for the earth to turn just so...dimming the sun's light and revealing their own. If I wanted to, I couldn't have willed the moon and star to shine...they simply appeared in their appointed moment.

Perhaps I could trust all to be revealed in its appointed time. Maybe I could open my heart and eyes to experience more fully all that is in front of me, rather than angsting over what might be or how things "should" be.

I was reminded of a peaceful moment earlier in the day. Relaxing with two wonderful friends, listening to the Philip Newell CD, "Sounds of the Eternal." We ended our time together soaking in the celestial voices chanting, "I will show you, hidden things, hidden things you have not known....I will show you, hidden things, hidden things you have not known."

Is there a place in your life where you are pushing or forcing? Could you truly soak in and believe? "I will show you, hidden things, hidden things you have not known...I will show you, hidden things, hidden things you have not known." Namaste

Day 30: Calm Waters

2009-09-23T14:51:00.000-07:00

Leaves on the trees are greener; skies are bluer...sunshine accenting what had been dreary days of dull grey. Even the birds are attacking their seed with new-found zeal. Days of rain give way to glistening sparkles on still water.

Why can't I be still like the calm waters? I was content just a few hours ago...enjoying the day, grateful for interesting work and loving friends. One phone call and I am off balance. The waters outside remain calm, but inside the tempest is growing.

Yet all those things for which I am grateful are still true...I do have a wonderful life, home, family, and friends. How much power do I want to give over to this one issue? To this tiny group of people seemingly holding so many cards?

Breathing in love and support...breathing out fear and frustration...breathing in Truth and Love...breathing out anger and pain...breathing in...breathing out...breathing in...breathing out...breathing...Namaste

Day 29: Your Inner EnCOURAGEr

2009-09-22T18:32:00.000-07:00

When I was considering moving to Tokyo, my friend Rhonda selflessly offered, “I think you could live anywhere and thrive.” I was afraid…for Brendan and Kiki living in a large, foreign city; for me, that I would be lonely. Her belief in me helped give me the courage to take a big risk.

While writing Dancing Naked Under the Moon, there were many times when I wanted to stop…mostly because I was afraid the book would not being “good enough.” Malcolm and many others provided support to help carry me. A few in particular, Ina, Terry, and Susan would send notes with soothing words that inspired me, gave me faith that all would be well. I saved those notes and emails and re-read them on days when I was ready to give up.

At times we are called to see the best in others that they cannot see in themselves. This type of support is not mindless praise. Sincere encouragement springs from a well of truly believing in the other.

Last year Kiki played volleyball for a coach who demanded a lot from her “girls.” She expected them to show up on time, give their all, and work together as a team. The girls grew tremendously as individual players and as a team. They made it to sub-regionals, exceeding all expectations for them at the beginning of the season. They also had a GREAT time.

Coach Annette’s encouragement made it safe for them to take risks and grow. When they succeeded, praise was showered upon them. When they made mistakes, Coach used it as a teaching moment, not an opportunity to shame.

Imagine the difference we could make in each other’s lives if we truly enCOURAGEd one another…to make positive changes in our lives, to try something new,….

Perhaps today you could offer enCOURAGEment to someone in need of it. There is no guarantee that your words will plant the seeds of change in another, but it will be sure to make you feel good. And who knows, you may even see your enCOURAGEment bear fruit. Namaste.

Day 28: A Selfish Gift

2009-09-21T12:35:00.000-07:00

"...forgive us our trespasses as we
forgive those who trespass against..."

That whole as we forgive those who trespass against us deal can be like pushing a boulder uphill. Praying for forgiveness...piece of cake!

For most of us, when we feel resentment, it resides in our guts. We relive an unkind word...years of abuse...a missed opportunity to be supported, and our solar plexus tightens as if in protection from the pain. But the pain is there, as real as the air we breath; sometimes, all we breath is our pain.

Small transgressions can be easy to forgive, especially when the other party sincerely seeks forgiveness. But the big ones, infidelity, a parent who seemed uninterested/uncaring, a child who steals from his or her own mother, these can take years of hard work to move past. And if the one who hurt us shows no remorse, the challenge is even more difficult.

We can pretend we aren't hurt...bury the betrayal in the backyard of our heart. But every once in a while, something will happen to nudge the bone toward the surface, our resentment triggering cramps in our gut and hardening in our hearts.

Responding to a question regarding the death of her son, actress Jill St. John said, "Resentment is like drinking poison and waiting for the other person to die." When we hold on to our anger and hurt, in essence we relive our pain over and over and over again.

Forgiveness is a gift we give...not only to the other party, but also to ourselves.

But how do we truly release and forgive? This can be difficult to say the least. For some of us, it may take years to heal old wounds; for others a moment of grace opens our hearts in a new way. Here are some ideas. I would like to thank Dr. Fisher Humphries as many of these ideas come from attending a class on forgiveness which he led at Beeson Divinity School's Lay Academy.

Name the person/group who hurt you and what they did to you that was unfair. You cannot begin to forgive until you honestly address this issue.

At some point, we have to choose to want to forgive. I remember during my divorce how attached I was to telling my "story." Each time I rehashed the perceived injustices, I could feel my resentment and indignation grow. I wanted others to validate my anger, my pain. I was not working on forgiveness...I was working on being "right." Like an addict who was sick of her hate hangovers, I finally grew tired of my own rants...that was a turning point toward forgiveness.

Choose to do your enemies no harm. Do not be rude to them, gossip about them, or even to believe the worst about them.

Surrender your desire to forgive to God. When I think of all the times I have knocked on God's door asking for forgiveness...truly feeling a sense of forgiveness...when I consider Christ's words on the cross, "Forgive them for they know not what they do," the forgiving I need to do seems less daunting. When forgiveness seemed nearly impossible, I prayed with the INTENTION of one day being able to forgive.

Remember the one who hurt you is a human being making mistakes, possibly hurting too. This does not mean condoning mean or abusive behavior...forgiveness is NOT condoning and it usually doesn't mean forgetting. However, if we can see the "other" as a child of God...understand something about their story, even pray for their well being, we can at least see them in a different light. Perhaps that light will be the path toward healing. A simple mantra is helpful, "May X be happy, be peaceful, know love."

Realize that holding on to the resentment is causing you pain (probably more so than the person with whom you are upset). In his book, Sermon on the Mount, Emmet Fox says, "Setting others free means setting yourself free, because resentment is really a form of attachment....When you hold resentment against anyone, you are bound to that person by a cosmic link, a real, though mental chain."

Seek support, especially if the resentment/anger is causing you to lash out at yourself and others. Find friends, professionals, who want to help you move past your pain. If you find some friends like to "feed the fire" either avoid them or at least talking about the subject. They may seem like they have your best interest in mind, but they may actually be inhibiting your ability to grow past the pain. Seeking professional help is a sign of strength not weakness. Forgiveness is courageous work.

Realize that forgiveness isn't fair. Holding on for restitution or some place of "equal" is a hook that will keep you coming back to the poisonous well. At some point, you will be able to acknowledge the injustice (not justify it), feel a sense of sadness for yourself at having experienced it, and let go of the desire for the other to "make it all better."

Forgiveness does not have to mean actually talking to/meeting with the other. In some circumstances, we might want to offer our forgiveness directly to the other. Sometimes, that is not wise...especially if you will be putting yourself in danger of future harm or if the other person is incapable of "hearing" your apology and their response would only increase your pain. Maybe you can write a forgiveness letter and burn it. Hold some kind of forgiveness ceremony. Offer prayers and then LET IT GO.

Below is a prayer that has been helpful to me. It was written by Dr. Bozarth a therapist and Episcopal Priest.

I bless you
I release you

I let you be
I let me be

I set you free
I set me free.

Forgiveness, a truly selfish gift. Namaste

Book suggestions: Forgive and Forget, Lewis B. Smedes, Sermon on the Mount, Emmet Fox, and Mending the Heart, John Claypool.

Day 27: Come Into Being as You Pass Away

2009-09-20T14:46:00.000-07:00

Chanting is at the heart of all traditions. Many Christian churches chant the psalms as part of their service. Tibetan Buddhists chant many prayers, the most recognizable being, "Om mani padme hum," the mantra of Chenrezig, considered to be the embodiment of compassion. Hindus, Muslims, many others...join breath, tone, and intention in an effort to praise, or toward union with God.

I have participated and led retreats where some time was spent chanting. On my own, I have chanted...for clarity, for comfort, to praise. The merging of breath, tone, and intention has carried me away from the chatter inside my head and toward the Silence.

Our Western brains like to "figure out" the way to God. However, it is in the experience where we find glimmers of the glorious Light.

While worried or in pain, I have called on Julian of Norwich's prayer, "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well." Each time, ease and well being settled in my soul.

Cynthia says, "I can attest to the power of this practice to awaken the heart and support the emergence of the 'unitive imagination.'" "The unitive is that deeper, luminous vision in each of us that can perceive the world as meaningful pattern and synchronicity, that knows how to 'see heaven in a grain of sand.'"

Would you like to give it a try? Here are abbreviated instructions...sit comfortably in silence for a few minutes, choose a psalm, one of the chants below, or something of your own. Create an intention for your time, and begin to chant the material. If you like, you can use a single note for the entire psalm or saying, or you can create a melody if you like. There is no "right" or "wrong" here. However, stillness, intention, and attention are beneficial. If you are chanting one of the phrases below, simply repeat for at least five minutes...longer if you like.

Relax, enjoy, and remember...breath, tone, and intention...the three core elements of the earth.

"Come into being as you pass away." From the Gospel of Thomas
"Om mani padme hum." Tibetan Buddhist Chant for Compassion
"All shall be well and all shall be well and all manner of things shall be well." Julian of Norwich

Namaste
For more detailed instructions I suggest you read Cynthia Bourgeault's, Wisdom Jesus and/or Chanting the Psalms. Also, J. Philip Newell has a beautiful book and accompanying CD with chants, Sounds of the Eternal.

Day 26: Feel the Rain on Your Face

2009-09-19T15:09:00.000-07:00

All I wanted to do was stay in bed...we had arrived in Clemson at midnight last night. We are in Tigertown for the football game against Boston College. I love college football. Sitting with Malcolm on one side and Brendan on the other--fabulous...having your team win..even better.

But this morning, I didn't care about cheering in the stands, listening to the bands. I only wanted to S-L-E-E-P! I even toyed with asking Malcolm if he and Brendan wanted to go without me and sell my ticket. Watching the game on the couch with Malcolm's "adopted" parents, Ina and Harry seemed like a great plan.

Thankfully, inertia did not get the better of me. Not wanting to disappoint the boys, I stuck with the plan.

For the first half of the game, grey skies and a light breeze provided unusually comfortable weather for mid-day game in September. After half-time, low clouds dropped their drizzle, prompting the appearance of 70,000 orange ponchos. At first, I was disappointed; who wants to sit in the rain--soaking wet? But then I started to enjoy the feeling of wet drops falling on my face, my legs, anywhere the poncho didn't cover. Awakened by the wet, my skin felt so alive.

Twice the game was delayed because of the lightening...each time for at least 30 minutes. We debated leaving both times and decided we had come this far, so rarely made it to a Clemson game, we would stick it out until the end. If I wasn't with such die-hard fans, I probably would've opted for that comfy couch.

We ran into friends from North Carolina during the second rain delay. Their 81-year old mother was there with them, outlasting fans more than half her age. I was inspired by her "spunk." And not for the first time when encountering an indomitable octogenarian I wondered which came first...the attitude/spirit or the great health.

How often do we protect ourselves from the environment because of...too much humidity...too much sun...too much rain...too much snow...too much cold? If we want to, we can create a reason not be out in the elements nearly every day.

Drenched, wet clothes clinging to me, feet squishing in my impractical leather shoes. I was surprisingly thrilled to be out in the rain. Something about being immersed in Mother Nature's weather du jour stirred the "earth momma" in me. I felt grateful.

The steamy shower back at the house felt pretty wonderful too!

Too often I change plans without fully considering what I might be giving up in veering off course. It is tough to tell the difference between flexibility and "bailing." Today, I am glad that for whatever reason I stayed the course.

I encourage you to reach beyond an initial resistance to "bail"and follow through. If you find yourself running down the road of coming up with reasons NOT to do something...because of energy, or weather, or money, or whatever, give yourself a moment to truly consider, "What would be most life-giving?" Is there a place in your life right now where you aren't "showing up?"

"Unwritten," is a great song by Natasha Beddingfield, you might want to crank up the stereo and jam. My favorite line is "Feel the rain on your face, no one else can feel it for you." May you be soaked! Namaste

Day 25: Shake Your Groove Thing

2009-09-18T03:45:00.000-07:00

"Something is different, what have you been doing?" I asked. It wasn't just that my friend seemed more fit...there was a greater sense of joy about her. "Turbo Jam! They are these great exercise videos that combine dancing, kickboxing, sculpting. I just love it!" She replied.

Tired of my same old workout routine, I decided to give it a whirl. This summer, Kiki would pop one of the dvd's in now and then. I mentioned to her that there was something about these videos that were different. We agreed that we found ourselves smiling throughout most of the workout.

The next time I "Jammed," I decided to figure out what was going on. As you would expect, the instructor, Chalene Johnson is perky and encouraging. She also exudes a genuine passion for what she is doing and a sincere desire to motivate. But that is not the most important factor in what makes Kiki and me smile, and creates this sense of joy in my friend.

It is DANCING. Periodically, Chalene will change up the routine and encourage the viewer to "bust a move." I like to do this video when NO ONE is watching and flail my mid-life body around the great room like a teenager on the prom dance floor. Yesterday, during one of the dance routines I circled the entire room with some inexplicable step "waving my hands in the air like I just didn't care." Knowing this same room would be a womb for wonderful women the next day on retreat...I danced with the intention for joy and laughter during their time here.

Most of us have few opportunities to dance...lots of us are self-conscious about our abilities. For over 20 years a group of amateurs have been taking tap lessons in Birmingham. Practices begin each fall and culminate in a wild, bawdy show in April. The house sells out every year! We are meant to dance.

When Malcolm and I would come to the lake house during those early, kid-free weekends we would put on some Harry Connick, Jr. or Nora Jones and hold each other close...the beat of the music, our heartbeats moving through us. Hmmm--we might need to break out those favorites again now that those kids have gone and started their own lives.

Whether it is on your own, in a class, with your love...SHAKE YOUR GROOVE THING! Namaste

Day 24: Dream Catcher

2009-09-17T16:30:00.000-07:00

When Kiki was about five years old she was afraid of going to sleep because of recurring bad dreams. Frequently, I would roll over in the middle of the night and run into little Kiki. She would have crawled in bed next to me for comfort. One night, after reading Kiki stories I tucked her covers in tight and told her to be very still because I was going to create a protective shield to keep the bad dreams out.

If we could all believe like small children. Kiki pulled her covers up even higher against her neck, closed her eyes, and said, "I'm ready." I made "zip" noises as I went from the foot to the head of the bed and announced that the shield was in place. I made sure to tell her it was a magic shield and would automatically reengage if she got up to go to the bathroom. She seemed relieved and drifted off to sleep.

The next morning Kiki came running down to the kitchen in her flannel pj's. "It worked, I didn't wake up. I didn't have one bad dream." And so a new ritual ensued. Each night we would read stories, kiss goodnight, and zip the shield in place. I also bought a Native American dream catcher and hung it over her bed for good measure. For the most part, this simple remedy worked. Somehow, Kiki's trust in the shield made it powerful.

A few years later when I was discerning important decisions, a therapist suggested I keep a dream journal. I loved to journal, and sporadically would transcribe a memorable dream, but I never had made it a routine.

The instructions I received were simple:

Keep a journal and a pen next to your bed.
Before going to sleep ask for your dreams to reveal to you wisdom regarding your life. You can make this general, or quite specific.
Give thanks for the Spirit's guidance.
Upon waking, immediately right down all that you can remember from the previous night. At first, it may be very little if anything at all. Most people find the more they do this exercise, the better their dream memory becomes.
Over time, review your dreams and look for significant details or themes that might be helpful.

I was struck how it seemed important for me to believe that my dreams held unearthed truths for me, similar to Kiki's belief that the shield could work. The dream journal exercise was fruitful. Some days it seemed as if the words I wrote down were unimportant. Many days I did not have time to read what I wrote. Yet, over time I found my dreams in my dreams...a direction became clear. One morning I even wrote down the floor plan for a home I had dreamed about. A year later I bought a home that significantly resembled my "dream" home...right down to the wrap around porch and the bonus room on the second floor.

If you are interested in getting to know a part of yourself yet unreaveled, zip into your dream catcher mode and start a dream journal. May the good ones come true! Namaste
PS-I would like to give a "thanks" and a "shout out" to Kevin DeWitt, editor for "Make the Days Count." This is a beautiful site that compiles writing on a number of subjects from spirituality, parenting, motivational topics, etc...They picked up a recent post of mine and featured it on their site.

Day 23: Transformation or Trouble...you decide

2009-09-16T13:12:00.000-07:00

The other day I was on the phone with my younger, wiser sister Anne. She was excited about her experience at a 3-day retreat at the Tao Temple where she is a member. My family is like its own inter-faith council, Buddhists, Catholics, Presbyterians, Episcopalians, Taoists. It didn't start out this way. Mom and Dad did the best they could to raise all eight of us Catholic. But like lots of families, when we kids went off into the world, we blazed our own trails. Although we don't agree on which path to take, I believe we are all trying to reach the same place.

But I digress. Anne told me about this amazing talk she gave during the retreat about the false self and the true self. To share her bits of wisdom in entirety would be too long (you're welcome to come to the retreat "The Way of the Mystic" at the house on Friday to hear the rest). However, the abbreviated version is...the false self identifies with the things of the flesh, things which are temporary. The true self identifies with matters of the Spirit. We need both, and both run through all experiences, it is just that we over-identify with the matters of the flesh we diminish the Spirit.

OK, so this blew me away because just last weekend Malcolm and I were teaching a Christian class on Fruit of the Spirit. Remember? And what were we reading? Galatians 5:16, "Live by the Spirit, I say and do not gratify the desires of the flesh. For what the flesh desires is opposed to the Spirit and what the Spirit desires is opposed to the flesh."

Later, Anne mentioned that one of the root meanings for the word "complain" is to "cause pain again." Isn't that the truth? As soon as we start complaining, we re-experience the pain. And the person to whom we are complaining is now in pain...first, because they probably want to fix it for us and second, because they have to listen to our complaining. I am not proposing that we never gripe about the bad breaks life can hand us, just hoping to create awareness about what is happening when we complain...we are reliving our pain.

On the other hand, the word "appreciate" actually means "to grow in value." So when we are genuinely grateful, praising we are responding from our true self--that which is connected to the things of the Spirit.

Are you still with me? If so, let's follow Anne's crumbs and walk down this trail toward transformation. All of us are going to experience trials in our lives. Most of us will hit some big ones, death of a loved one, divorce, illness, job loss is popular these days. Every time we experience a trial of some sort, we have the opportunity to grow in humility and in Spirit. By definition, a trial is not an easy thing to experience.

However, if we can use our trial as a pathway toward transformation; an opportunity to let go of some part of our false self that is clinging and complaining, we may find that we have dropped one of the steamer trunks of baggage that is keeping us from passing through the eye of the needle--the narrow gate.

A wonderful friend has recently been diagnosed with a serious, chronic illness. She has a young family to care for that she loves dearly. Managing this disease was not really in her game plan. The diagnosis came suddenly. Her response has been nothing short of heroic. Not because she isn't feeling her pain-she is. Not because she doesn't understand the changes this will demand of her-she does. After years of working with terminally ill patients and grieving mothers, she feels that in the grand scheme of things, this is manageable. More than likely, she will have to re-evaluate the number of commitments in her life, but she intends to keep on living. Given the other prognoses which were being ruled out, she is actually grateful. Yes, she is appreciative. And there in lies the heroism, she is feeling her pain AND she is appreciative.

That brings me to one of the last things Anne said to me, "Mary, if we complain about our trials they are only problems." If we allow our trials to be our teachers; use them as an opportunity to deepen our connection to the Divine; be willing to let go of the temporary pleasure we are clinging to, we may find them to be transformative.

Please do not hear me saying this path toward transformation is fast or simple or that we should flog ourselves when we do complain. Screaming, crying, shaking our fists are all normal reactions to hard stuff. I simply want to share with you the benefit of giving yourself the space to experience the meaning underneath the trial, not just the trouble of it.

Is there a trial in your life right now? If so, I invite you to take uninterrupted time and Dialogue with God. Sit in silence and ask for the Spirit's guidance. Reflect on how this trial is impacting you and others in your life. Give thanks to God for God's Presence and Love. If there is one question you would like to ask God, what would that be? Ask...sit in silence...LISTEN...close out your time by giving thanks for whatever gift was given to you. Ask for continued guidance and support. Trust it will be there. Namaste

Day 22: Doin' The Hummin'bird

2009-09-15T14:42:00.001-07:00

There is a new kid on the block. In the past six years, Malcolm and I have never been visited by this greenish/yellowish bird with black and white wings. Early one morning I spied him, of all places on the hummingbird feeder. Grabbing my book, I walked onto the deck for my morning reading and coffee. This startled the new kid and he flew away.

Taking his hummingbird interpretation one step further, he mimicked their flight pattern--perching high on a tree to the left, zooming close to the feeder, and then landing high on a tree to the right. Unlike the hummingbirds, he wouldn't land on the feeder when I was around. Also, he sang a long, loud repetitive song. Well, really it sounded more like, "get out of here I was enjoying the sugar buzz." Curious, I cruised through the bird book trying to identify him, deciding he was probably some kind of vireo. He has returned to visit every day since and has charmed Malcolm as well.

The hummingbirds are not nearly as entertained by the new kid as Malcolm and I are. They buzz him and seem hesitant to land when he is on their feeder. Hummingbirds are fascinating in their own right. Often we will take our seats in the stadium (OK, the Adirondack chairs on the deck) and watch their games. Small bodies zipping past at top speed, wings flapping at a million beats per second...finally, one will land on the feeder, only to be dive bombed by another hummingbird or two. Entangled in their mid-air battle, another small bird will light on the feeder and then foes become comrades as they band together to bully the newcomer off of the feeder. We never tire of these games. In fact we mourn the hummingbirds when they leave in October and anticipate their return in April.

Now there are six perches and holes on this feeder. If they wanted to, our little friends could ALL sit peacefully and sip their nectar. Heck they could hang out and tell bee jokes or something. Imagine the energy they would save NOT fighting and dive bombing and playing protector of the perch!

I can't understand why the new kid wants to pretend he's something he's not, but I bet he isn't the only one doin' the hummin'bird dance. I think a lot of us do it.

Sometimes I wonder if God isn't like Malcolm and me watching the show and wondering, Why do they operate from such fear? I have provided them with everything...there is no need to worry, no need to fight...simply drink from the cup of life.

How much energy would we save if we opened our eyes to the abundance that surrounds us? How much more generous would we be if we weren't worried that someone else was going to get our "share?"

Is there a place in your life where you have been buzzing around in fearful flight? If so, what would it look like if you stopped flapping your wings and simply perched, drank, and gave thanks? Namaste

Day 21: Naming the Nameless

2009-09-14T17:13:00.000-07:00

"The Tao that can be told is not the eternal Tao. The name that can be named is not the eternal Name." The Tao Te Ching

Many mornings I sit on a zafu cushion and start my centering prayer time praying the Daily Office. Actually, I have taken to amending the prayers. It seems arrogant for me, an unschooled layperson to mess with these sacred words. I simply hope that the Holy One to whom I pray is pleased I am showing up.

Here is the deal. Consistently in these morning prayers God is referred to as "Father" and "He." I love my father. I think guys are great. I adore my husband. It is not that I don't like men, but sometimes I am weary of all masculine language we use to describe the Divine. Truly, the Beloved I worship is greater than "he" or "she." So sometimes I insert "Mother" or "Mother and Father" instead of "Father" or "GOD" instead of "He;" however my favorite is "Beloved." This language feels softer, more expansive. And yet, even these modifications are inadequate to express the magnitude of the Creator.

Lao Tzu, the presumed author of the Tao Te Ching, had the right idea. The moment we begin to name the Nameless, we have diminished this Presence. Yet, we need language to communicate with one another.

If the language of the Spirit is intended to be used metaphorically and not literally, why do most of the metaphors point in one direction? This language conundrum hit home when I was helping with Vacation Bible School last summer. The children in my care were to act out a scene about Noah's ark. Two of them wanted to play the part of God, one was a boy and the other a girl. I was unsuccessfully mediating a solution when the young man confidently declared, "You can't be God because God is a boy." The little girl opened her mouth and then shut it, as if she didn't have a better response.

We were on a tight schedule and I made a snap decision that I didn't have time to give my "God is bigger than 'he' or 'she' speech." Humorously, the young man relented when he found out that if he played one of the other parts, he could bang sticks to make the ark. Still, the memory of that young girl opening and then closing her mouth continues to haunt me. The thought that this future father holds this one-dimensional image of God, disturbing.

Maybe we rely too much on language. Maybe the mystics have the right idea in their pursuit of direct experience of Reality...through prayer, poetry, art, service.

On the other hand, the Islamic tradition recognizes 99 names for Allah (God), names like, "The All Beneficent," "The Most Merciful," "The Creator," "The Ever Forgiving." Beautiful names.

Holding the Beloved in our hearts, reaching toward union is what we are called to do. If naming is a catalyst toward this communion, then let's follow our Islamic brothers and sisters and fling the door wide open. Naming is important.

What are your favorite names for the Nameless? Say them aloud...write them down...honor them and praise the Presence they feebly describe. Namaste

Day 20: Bestowing Our Blessings

2009-09-13T14:14:00.000-07:00

Some of you have heard me mention Lama Norlha Rinpoche, the Tibetan Buddhist Monk with whom I took teachings for a few years. One of my favorite memories with Lama Norlha was when Brendan and Kiki were ten and nine years old. Lama, his fellow monks and nuns were in our guest bedroom chanting their morning ritual. Brendan and Kiki were lying on the carpet outside of the guest room, trying to see what was happening from under the door. As I was running up the stairs to reprimand the kids for spying, one of the monks opened the door and invited them, and me to join them.

We all sat cross-legged on the floor as the ritual continued. Ani Palmo, one of the nuns, explained to us in English what they were saying in Tibetan. Brendan and Kiki adored Lama Norlha for a number of reasons, not least of which was his childlike nature which betrayed his sixty-plus years. At the end of the chanting I was busily rounding up the kids to get ready for school. Lama Norlha interrupted me and called each one over to him to say "goodbye" because he would be leaving while they were at school. Lama placed his hands on Brendan's cheeks and leaning forward, touched his forehead to Brendan's. Smiling, he repeated the same gesture for Kiki, bestowing a tender blessing upon each of them.

Years later, Rabbi Rami Shapiro was visiting on a Friday night when I asked if he would perform a Shabbat Service for us. Graciously he agreed. Somewhere in the mix of blessing wine and bread and lighting candles, Rami looked at me and said, "It is customary for you to bless your children." Surprised, I stood and placed my hands on Brendan's head. Isn't it crazy that I had never thought to do this before? This beloved child of mine had been at my table many a Friday night and it never entered my mind to close out the week by placing my hands on his head and giving thanks for him in this special way; to ask for God's protection and blessing upon him.

I remember feeling self-conscious about saying the "right thing," as well as grateful for the moment of remembering...remembering that he belongs to me...and I belong to him...and yet neither of us is of the other...that we both belong to the BELOVED.

Sure, every morning and every night I pray for Brendan and Kiki. But this outward manifestation of my inward feelings gave Brendan, Kiki, and me the chance to experience blessing together.

After years away from liturgical Christian worship, returning to the Episcopal Church has been a "coming home." When the cross is carried down the aisle at the beginning and end of each service, we bow...an outward sign of our inward devotion. At various parts of the service we kneel, sit, and stand...our bodies praying along with our hearts. Service concludes with the priest standing at the altar, right hand raised, making the sign of the cross, blessing his or her flock, "In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit." Sometimes, receiving this blessing is the most peaceful moment in my week.

Who would you like to bless? Are they in a proximity where you could lay your hands on their heads and acknowledge how sacred they are to you? What words of thanks do you want to give for who they are? What special blessing would you like to bestow on him or her? I encourage you to take a risk and not waste this moment to bless another. This outward manifestation of what we hold dear in our hearts has power...gives meaning, in ways we may never completely comprehend. Bless you and Namaste.

Day 19: God is Growing Me

2009-09-12T14:16:00.000-07:00

"By contrast, the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control." Galatians 5:22

For the next few months Malcolm and I are leading a Sunday School Class on the "Fruit of the Spirit." True to form for both of us, we have been "cramming" to prepare. Hmmmm, maybe that says something about faithfulness and self-control. Anyway, diving into the material we have unearthed has been fascinating. Pouring over the commentary from great minds, consuming.

A couple of themes emerge...Fruit of the Spirit is about God working in us, not us trying to be God; a change in character that usually evolves over time; it brings us closer to God's purposes.

In our discussions I had mistakenly referred to the "fruits of the Spirit." Malcolm gently corrected me and mentioned he had made the same mistake, but that is singular, FRUIT of the Spirit. This is puzzling, almost like one fruit with nine attributes. I guess we aren't supposed to pick and choose which one we want to grow.

I am reminded of an afternoon with my spiritual director, Sr. Mary McGeehee. I was lamenting about not seeing many "results" in my life. Mary smiled at me lovingly and reminded me, "be patient, God is growing you." Isn't that lovely? "God is growing you."

It is easy for us to get pretty wrapped up in what we can DO to be better. This fruit of the Spirit stuff though, it seems to point to a way of BEING. I wonder, how can I be open to the Spirit moving in me? How can I let go of RESULTS and embrace bearing good fruit? What is the difference? Perhaps I am not qualified to lead this class, I have many more questions than answers. Oh well, maybe I'll just be still and know God is God!

Take as much time as you like and ponder, "God is growing me." Write, paint, dance...whatever moves you a response to this phrase, "God is growing me." Namaste.

Day 18: All God's Creatures

2009-09-11T07:25:00.001-07:00

Lazily crunching on cereal and berries, half-heartedly reading the news, I was snapped out of my daze by a loud "THWAP" against the window. Sadly, I knew this sound too well--a bird had flown into the window.

We are literally in the treetops. Birds adorn our deck and the surrounding trees like ornaments. Frequently, we are entertained by their shenanigans at the feeder or the rare visit by an indigo bunting or a rose-breasted grosbeak.

The beauty we enjoy from living in this home is a hazard to the birds we love. Usually they maneuver around the house without trouble. Occasionally a bird will fly into the window, fortunately most of them fly away, seemingly unharmed.

After hearing the ominous sound at breakfast, I jumped up to see if the bird was OK. Lying on its back, legs flailing, a small cardinal appeared to be seriously hurt. It was excruciating to watch the struggle, yet I wanted to stand witness in some way...just in case this sweet creature was dying. Drizzling rain a cruel insult to the already suffering bird. I prayed...does that sound silly? I sent love...felt sadness for my part in this situation.

I have learned not to go on the deck when a bird is hurt, my presence only creates stress. So I continued my vigil through the window. His legs stopped moving, breathing slowed down. Was the cardinal dying or relaxing and recovering? Hoping it was the latter, I stood watch a little longer. After a while, I cleared my dishes and sadly tended to a couple of morning chores.

Dubiously, I walked back to the window to check on the bird. He had righted himself! Dazed and scruffy from his frightful encounter, he was perched on the deck. I kneeled down to a vantage point where I could see him, but was hidden from his view. Relief, gratitude, silent prayers converged into a mixture of emotion that seemed disproportionate given the short encounter with my new-found friend.

Encouraged that he was on the road to recovery, I climbed the stairs to my office. A short time later I decided to check on his condition again. In a magnanimous display of forgiveness, he waited for me to behold his recuperation flight. At first he flew tentatively to the railing, cocked his head one way...then the other, flapped his wings for good measure, and ascended boisterously into the world of the trees! My heart soared with him.

How often I take these tiny creatures for granted. Yet they grant such joy...with their songs, ornate plumage, and fanciful flight. How empty our world would be without the creatures with whom we share this planet.

I encourage you to take some time to go outside and SEE, ENJOY, SAVOR the birds, bugs, animals in your world. What lessons do they have for you? If it feels comfortable, take a moment to send them blessings and offer thanksgiving. Namaste

Day 17: Expressing Gratitude

2009-09-10T07:58:00.001-07:00

When my husband Malcolm was playing football as a junior in high school, he underwent shoulder surgery. After the surgery Malcolm was unsure of his ability to come back and play well for his senior year. Since he first started playing pee-wee football, Malcolm's dream was to play college ball. Getting in shape for the next season was critical to the manifestation of this goal.

One day his Calculus teacher, Mr. Jennings stopped Malcolm after class and asked how he was doing since his surgery. Discouraged, Malcolm told him he wasn't sure he would ever be able to play well again. Mr. Jennings offered to help Malcolm train each day during the spring. The informal sessions continued on through the summer. Apparently, Mr. Jennings had been a track coach and knew a lot about endurance training. At the beginning of his senior season, Malcolm was in the best shape he had ever been. By Christmas he was offered the scholarship he had long dreamed of.

That was 36 years ago. A few years ago, Malcolm picked up the phone and called Mr. Jennings to tell him how much he appreciated what he had done for him and what a difference he had made in his life. The moment was tender, old friends enjoying one another. The ebb and flow of giving...receiving...giving...receiving washing over both.

Yesterday we considered the benefits of having an "attitude of gratitude." How about if we take it one step further? For our renewal practice today, take a moment and express your gratitude to someone who has had a positive impact in your life.

Is there someone in your life who has had a significant impact on you? Would you like to take a moment to call or write them and let them know how grateful you are? When you do, feel free to share your experience. Namaste

Day 16: An Attitude of Gratitude

2009-09-09T13:18:00.000-07:00

Remember when you were growing up and your mother told you to, "Count your blessings?" Well it turns out mom knew what she was talking about.

A study done at Hofstra University documented benefits experienced by students who kept a gratitude journal for two weeks. These students were:

more satisfied with their lives
demonstrated greater satisfaction with their school experience
less likely to report physical aches and pains.

Dr. Froh, the lead researcher, noted that other studies have shown grateful people are more likely to exercise, sleep better, and experience some cardiac benefits. If you would like to listen to a podcast with Dr. Froh click here.

The reality is, most of us know that thankfulness is good. It's just that when we feel frustrated and are focusing on what we DON'T have, we lose sight of the many good things in our lives. Yet like brushing our teeth and washing our faces, this "attitude of gratitude" can become a habit.

Once when I was leading a retreat I asked if anyone had kept a gratitude journal. One woman said that she had. "What was your experience?" I asked. "Each night I would bring my journal to bed and write down ten things for which I was grateful." We all listened attentively to this gentle, beautiful woman. "I didn't want to repeat what I had written already, so over time it required greater and greater awareness. One night I wrote, 'I am grateful for the way my sheets feel soft against my skin.'"

We were thunderstruck. We all had soft sheets each night. What set this woman apart from the rest of us was her acknowledgement of the gift.

Take a piece of paper and write down at least ten things that you are grateful for. If you like, continue this practice for a week...go deeply in developing this attitude of gratitude. I am grateful for YOU. Namaste

Day 15: Listening to Our Bodies

2009-09-08T17:54:00.000-07:00

In her revolutionary book, Women's Bodies, Women's Wisdom, Dr. Christiane Northrup says, "Our bodies are our allies in the search for health and healing. Listening to the wisdom of our female bodies is the path to self-discovery and joy."

How often do we consider our bodies as a vehicle for "self-discovery and joy?" Many of us wage internal wars with our bodies...we criticize them when they aren't perfect enough; when they are tired we fill them with caffeine. You get the idea.

Yet there are some women who are inspiring in the way that they accept and even love their bodies. Others, especially those who have survived a serious illness, or live with a chronic condition, have used their medical situation as an opportunity to befriend their bodies and listen for the messages they are sending.

A friend of mine survived life-threatening cancer. Her children were young at the time and she was forced to surrender many of her parenting duties to others so she could focus on healing. Over time, she realized that if she tried to deny a part of herself, even her cancer, ultimately she would lose. Somehow, she had to find a way to befriend her body, even though it seemed as if it was betraying her. She took her healing very seriously and each day would take time to tune into what it was she most needed...more laughter, more rest, more exercise. Her cancer taught her to tune into this unique source of wisdom.

She has been cancer free for years and continues to be aware of the messages her body is telling her; not from an obsessive place, but from the healthy perspective of appreciating her body's unique connection to her soul.

Perhaps by paying attention to the messages from our bodies, loving and accepting them, we might find we have taken tender care of our souls.

Sit in silence for a few moments with an awareness of your body. Is there any part that is in particular need of care? Can you respond in some way to that need? Finally, this is for extra credit...could you stand naked in front of the mirror and look at your body appreciating it and thanking it for all that it does for you? Namaste

Day 14: Peace Be In Your Heart

2009-09-07T16:05:00.000-07:00

Unity Center for Peace in Chapel Hill, North Carolina ends each service with congregants reaching across the aisles to hold hands as one large, winding, human chain belting out, "Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me. Let there be peace on earth, the peace that was meant to be...." Years ago when I attended these services, singing this song was the highlight, a culmination of community grounded in personal responsibility for creating peace.

Yesterday in Park City, Utah, the service at St. Mary's Catholic Church ended in the same way. Joyful voices joined, raised high with the intention to be a peaceful presence. The universal message ringing true for two very different congregations on opposite ends of the country. Like many moments in the pews, we can choose to leave the meaning in the building, or carry it out into the world. How can we cultivate a sense of peace?

There is so much to this question, only a fraction of one of the millions of possible responses can be addressed: awareness of the moment when we become reactionary. For most of us, when we begin to tighten or "brace" in our body, it is an indicator that some internal trigger is firing. Rev. Cynthia Bourgeault, the renowned contemplative prayer teacher instructs that if at all possible, we want to avoid responding from this place of "bracing." My sense is the reason we want to be mindful of when we are being reactionary is because underneath the sensation is some degree of violence...be it a violent thought, feeling, or action waiting for an opportunity to see the light of day.

Often when we think of violence, physical violence comes to mind. Yet we can be just as incendiary with fiery thoughts-directed at ourselves or others. Hurtful speech can be as a brutal as a well-placed blow. It is common for us to have experiences of anger or fear (two of the most common seeds of violence). What impedes our ability to cultivate peace is ignoring the power these thoughts and feelings can have on our behavior. Cultivating peace in our hearts requires awareness of wherein the heart lies. It requires living awake.

Imagine the difference each of us could make if we created the intention to be a peaceful presence.

For our practice today, let's make an effort to be aware of any "bracing" or "tightening" in our bodies; or a sense of our hearts "closing off." NOTICE the sensation and then silently breathe "peace" as many times as necessary. Perhaps you can take a moment right now, place your hand on your heart and pray, "Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me." Namaste

"Peace Be in Your Heart"
Charles Francis Richardson

"If peace be in your heart,
the wildest winter storm is solemn beauty,
the midnight flash but show your path of duty,
each living creature tells some new and joyous story,
the very trees and stones catch a ray of glory,
if peace be in your heart."

Day 13: Reclaiming

2009-09-06T07:05:00.000-07:00

Years ago I was an adventurer, backpacking in Yellowstone, biking long distances. My motto seemed to be, "Work hard. Play hard." Like many of us, over time my weekend pursuits became more and more domesticated. Long treks in the wilderness were replaced by swinging children in neighborhood parks.

One of my favorite memories is of a hike to Heart Lake in Yellowstone. Three friends and I had trekked in the eight miles to our destination late in the afternoon. The hike was more difficult than we had expected. What should have taken three hours stretched into a grueling five hour journey. Early in the hike it began to rain. We pulled out our ponchos and silently trudged toward our destination. Setting up camp in the dark drizzle was hardly what any of us had hoped for when we had planned our trip.

The next morning I rolled out of my sleeping bag and pulled back the flap of the tent to a stunning sight. Only a few yards away, was steam gently rising above the crystal blue water of Heart Lake. The protective backdrop of Mt. Sheridan hovered on the other side of the lake, her snowy reflection mirrored on the still water.

Quietly, so as not to disturb my companions, I started a fire and made coffee. When the black brew was ready, I poured it into my tin cup and sat on a log, peacefully soaking up the majestic vision. Wool gloves gripping my tin cup, I breathed in the steam...aroma and warmth a double dose of healing. Gracefully, geese skimmed the water, dancing in formation. The harmonious peace especially appreciated given the struggle to reach our destination.

These days, rather than starting out with gloved hands gripping a tin cup, I usually make a rather tame trek to the coffee pot--my greatest obstacle being a hungry yellow lab. Cup in hand, I settle in on my comfy couch. This is fine. This too is a good life.

However, recently I have noticed a certain hesitancy in my willingness to venture out and take risks. I have wondered if reclaiming some of that woman by Heart Lake wouldn't open me to embracing new challenges in my life today. A few weeks ago I bought new hiking boots. Kiki and I explored the Desoto Falls area. Malcolm and I brought mountain bikes with us on the ski lift to the top of the mountain in Park City and rode down the windy, aspen-clothed trail.

Surely my pursuits at 47 won't be as daring as those at 27. Yet I want to reclaim the adventurer in me. Not all adventures need to be physical of course. As I reclaim that woman by the lake, how will other aspects of my life be transformed? How will I be transformed?

Take a few minutes and contemplate if there is a part of you that you have (either consciously or inadvertently) shut down, ignored, denied. Think back to a time in your life when you felt most alive. What aspect of this self would you like to reclaim? Could you take one step in that direction today? Namaste

Day 12: Rest

2009-09-05T17:05:00.000-07:00

We all "know" we need rest. Many of us struggle with giving ourselves restorative time. And yet, how often have we found ourselves declining in "productivity" as we continue to push on through a project or a busy day? Culturally, we have erased the line between "work" and "play." Many of us feel we need to keep working, keep volounteering, keep whatevering, until we are depleted, empty shells of ourselves.

Wayne Muller reminds us in his compelling book, Sabbath: Restoring the Sacred Rhythm of Rest, "Sabbath honors the necessary wisdom of dormancy,...a period in which we lie fallow, and restore our souls."

A few years ago a wonderful friend told me that she tries to give herself one day off each week. A day when she doesn't answer the phone unless she wants to; reads if she feels like it, naps if that appeals to her; watches a movie if that is what calls her. This friend is one of the most spiritually connected people I know. I wonder if there is a correlation between her practice of rest and her connection to the Divine?

Of course the thought of taking a day off is different for someone who has young children at home, or caring for an elderly parent. Yet, this soul restoration project is particularly important for caregivers. Imagine the message we could give our children if they experienced rest as a natural part of their day. Perhaps they could even participate in planning this special time...maybe a day when meals are simple, or one void of cleaning. Come to think of it, most of these same kids have taken naps in daycare or pre-school.

For many of us, the greatest barriers to rest are granting ourselves permission; letting go of the never-ending demands of life; and allowing others to step in and support us.

How could you incorporate a ritual of rest in your week? How can you create time of rest today? Sweet Dreams, I mean...Namaste

Day 11: Generous Spirit

2009-09-04T09:53:00.000-07:00

"Mary Bea, your mother and I would like for you and Malcolm to join us in Park City next fall. You have put a lot of energy into those kids. After you take them to school, you are going to need a break."

Listening to Dad's generous offer, I wasn't sure I could accept. So much was up in the air, it seemed difficult to make any plans, even exciting ones. Thankfully, he persisted and I am clicking at the keyboard with a spectacular view of the mountainside beckoning me to come out and play.

The morning after our arrival in Park City there was a knock on the door. One of the hotel staff handed Mom a note. It was a "thank you" signed by every member of the front desk staff for a box of truffles Mom and Dad had given them. "Why did you give them truffles?" I asked. "Before we got here, we called ahead and asked for a nice room since we will be staying for a little while. They went to great lengths to help us. We just wanted to thank them for the extra effort." Dad replied.

Earlier this summer, Kiki had called Mom and told her, "Grandma I am so tired from all the end of the year busysness and college decision stuff, can I come stay with you and just hang on the beach? I don't want to do a lot, just get away." Mom agreed and when Kiki arrived at their home she was assured that she had no obligation to spend time with her grandma and grandpa unless she wanted. She could read in her room, lay out on the beach, do whatever she needed to take care of herself. As any grandparent knows, this was no small gesture since time alone with those grandchildren is precious indeed.

I am grateful for the generosity my parents have shown me and others throughout the years.

We all know people who embody a generous spirit. Those of generous heart take the time to consider, what it is another might want and need; give thanks for the generosity of others; and offer their gifts without expectation of anything in return.

Today's exercise toward renewal is two parts. You may wish to do only one or both.

Part One: Take a few moments and reflect on a time when someone touched you deeply with their generosity. What is it about the gesture and the person that moved you? How did you benefit?

Part Two: Consider someone in your life that you would like to reach out to in the spirit of generosity. What might this person need or want most in this moment? Can you give freely, with no strings attached? If so, take the time to connect with the generous spirit within you and joyfully offer your gift. Namaste

Day 10: Beloved Child of God

2009-09-03T07:53:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I wrote about the wisdom that comes from paying attention to our emotions. One of the "stories" my sadness was telling me was that I was not enough. When we buy into the "not enough" mindset, peace is forever at bay. Our homes are not beautiful enough, our work is not good enough, our experiences not exciting enough. We are forever trying to feed an insatiable hunger...forging on in the conquest of unattainable goals, missing the opportunity to celebrate the gifts in the moment before us.

A few years ago I stopped work early on a Friday afternoon, pulled out the easel and paints, cranked up some classical music and immersed myself in the sensual dance between canvas and brush. I had no plan for what I wanted to paint...tans and browns and greens formed a hillside...yellows and reds adorned the flowers...various shades of blue stroked the sky. And then a woman in a flowing robe appeared. Her long locks streaked with gray, she confidently strode the hillside. A dove surrounded by golden light lingered above her and off to the side in bold letters, "YOU ARE MY BELOVED."

Standing back from the canvas, a wave of warmth enveloped me. I sat down on the red couch in the sunroom, closed my eyes, and breathed in words passed on to us through the centuries, "YOU ARE MY BELOVED. YOU ARE MY BELOVED. YOU ARE MY BELOVED WITH YOU I AM WELL PLEASED."

Allow yourself 15-20 minutes of quiet.

Slowly read the following passage 3 times, listening with the "ear of the heart." Sit in silence after each reading. If you like, the first time you can pay attention for a word or phrase that jumps out at you. The second time, simply meditate/contemplate what this passage may be offering you. After the third reading, sit and silence and allow a prayer to move through you. Finally, sit in silence and offer thanksgiving. Namaste

"...the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased." (NRSV Luke 3:22)

Day 9: The Wisdom of Emotions

2009-09-02T07:54:00.000-07:00

Last spring I felt immobilized by sadness. My heart ached when I imagined Brendan and Kiki leaving for college. My head swirled with panicky financial concerns. I had been looking for a "J-O-B" with little success. It felt as if the world, and my life were passing me by.

I was ashamed of my sadness. I had so much to be grateful for...a loving family, all of us healthy, beautiful home, wonderful friends, gratifying work. And yet, I couldn't force myself to feel happy. I could fake it pretty well, but my family-they knew. Darkness had set in, a cloud-covering of despair would not allow the sunshine of all the good in my life to peak through.

I had been here before when we first moved to the lake and knew from that experience if I exercised every day, reduced my caffeine intake, and ate right, those things would help; and they did, but the underlying sadness was still there, along with my judgment of this sadness. I wanted to be "Happy Mary" for me and for everyone else. I prayed to return to "myself" again.

Finally, I made the call and reached out for professional help. I had been leaning on Malcolm as my sole source of comfort for too long. The counselor was a great fit for me--a Buddhist practitioner who encouraged me to examine what my emotions were trying to tell me. When she went so far as to advise me to "lean into them," I was reminded of a verse from a Christian song, "Be not afraid, I go before you always...."

I had spent so much time trying to push my difficult emotions away, "leaning in" was counter-intuitive. Yet, the Christian contemplative prayer, the Welcoming Prayer (which ironically I teach in some of my workshops) is all about "leaning into" what is up for you in this moment.

The more I took time to pay attention, notice and accept my emotions, the more their power to control my reactions dissipated. As I made friends with them, they told me their story...of course I was sad, of course I was scared, of course I felt a little lost. Beyond the obvious reasons for sadness were deeper, older reasons...they were calling out for attention, healing. The told me their meaning and gave meaning to my experience of sadness.

For me, "leaning in" is the exact opposite of coming up with affirmations, which we don't really believe anyway, and trying to "positive think" our way out of a deeply ingrained belief system. Deep down inside, we have got to listen for the wisdom of our emotions, stay with them, and ride the turbulent wave until it reaches the shore and dissolves into the sand.

It is not about wallowing in it, but noticing, welcoming, and letting go. If we wanted to avoid the ups and downs of life, attempting to be spiritually awake is a bad choice. Look at Jesus' life. Although he did not foolishly attract unnecessary difficulty, he never walked away from the hard choices before him. Instead, he walked toward them with a connection to "Abba" as his source of strength.

Below are simplified instructions for the Welcoming Prayer. I encourage you to visit Contemplative Outreach's Website for more detailed instructions. Also, my husband, Malcolm Marler wrote a blog on emotions recently which you might find interesting.

Finally, because it is such an important topic, I want to say that in addition to the help I received form counseling and prayer, I did choose to take medication. Like a lot of people, I tried to avoid taking that step. One of my concerns was that I would be "muted" less of who I truly am. However, in that circumstance, it actually allowed me get my head above water enough to be able to ride the waves. A seasoned professional can help with these important choices. Namaste

Welcoming Prayer
Movement One: FOCUS and sink into the energy and sensation in your body
Movement Two: "WELCOME" the troubling sensation . Choose a sacred symbol of your intention to consent to the presence and action of the indwelling Spirit.
Movement Three: "I let go of my desire for CONTROL/POWER"
"I let go of my desire for AFFECTION/ESTEEM/APPROVAL"
"I let go of my desire for SECURITY/SURVIVAL"
"I let go of my desire to CHANGE (the situation, feeling, emotion,....)

Over time

Day 8: Asking Forgiveness

2009-09-01T05:18:00.000-07:00

The email began, "I think I owe you an apology." What followed were simple words of regret. The infraction was minor, but had hurt none-the-less. Upon reading her words my belly softened. I didn't even realize I was carrying tightness there, or how much I had been ruminating about the brief encounter which precipitated the email.

It took humility and courage to reach out and apologize. I was grateful to be the recipient of this kindness. Accepting her apology, I felt lighter-unencumbered. Our friendship will be stronger; her example lives on in me as a reminder to be equally humble and courageous.

I invite you to close your eyes and take a few very deep, cleansing breaths. Ask yourself, is there someone I have hurt? Sit in silence with this for a few moments-no need for judgment or chastisement... no need for self-defense...just BE with the experience for a few moments. Bring compassion to yourself and to the other...notice your connection through your human frailties. From the depth of the silence consider, how do I want to respond? Namaste

Day 7: You Get What Ya Give

2009-08-31T14:22:00.000-07:00

How often do we hear of someone going through a particularly difficult time, or remember an old friend and think, I should give him a call?

Oftentimes, I allow a blanket of busyness to smother the urge to make real connections. It is convenient to send an email, and surely that is better than nothing at all. But somehow we seem to have lost the art of picking up the telephone or stopping by for a visit to open the two-way dialogue that happens in conversation.

Recently, a friend I have known since we were 12 years old called to wish me a "happy birthday." We spent an hour catching up. When I hung up the phone my sense of belonging seemed more sure. Lisa's thoughtfulness lifted my spirits for days.

A few years ago I had the privilege of briefly knowing Frances Hargraves. Mrs. Hargraves had been living and teaching school in Chapel Hill since the sidewalks were made of dirt. She was an anchor in the classroom during civil rights turmoil and was beloved by students of all colors. So great was her impact on the community that an elementary school and community center were named in her honor.

Weeks before she died, I went to visit her. I wanted to see her one more time and thank her for helping with Project Compassion. Walking into her bedroom with a freshly picked bouquet of black eyed susans, I found Mrs. Hargraves surrounded by young family members anxious to attend her. I thanked her for allowing me, a recent acquaintance, the time to see her when so many wanted to be with her. She smiled and made me feel like I was the most important visitor in weeks.

When one of the young women commented on all the visitors and flowers Mrs. Hargraves had received, I mentioned that I wasn't surprised. Smiling, she sighed deeply, laid her head back on a pile of pillows and said, "Well chil' you get what ya give. Just remember, you're gonna get what ya give."

Each year when the black eyed susans begin to smile their summer greeting, I remember my inspiring friend's advice.

I am aware that one day I too will be only a memory. What kind of memories am I leaving?
Is there someone in your life that you would like to give a call to or stop by and visit right now?

Day 6: Hands Wide Open

2009-08-30T14:46:00.000-07:00

In middle school, my girlfriends and I would write our favorite sayings. Silly things like, "love is never having to say you're sorry." Any relationship survive that platitude? I scribbled, "If you love something set it free" on my bright yellow and green "flower power" notebook. At the ripe old age of 13, I understood the meaning of this piece of wisdom because I had just broken up with my boyfriend of 6 whole months.

Some 30 plus years later, I have had the opportunity to set both of my children free to the magical life of college. Two weeks ago Brendan smiled down at me (literally, he is 9 inches taller) and said, "Mom, I think it's time to say 'goodbye.'" And so we did. Wailing and gnashing of teeth, and the comfort stop at a friend's home helped ease the pain. If you are ever dropping a child off at Auburn, I highly recommend Marcia's hard lemonade, provided you have a designated driver.

Yesterday, we schlepped Kiki's life out of the cars and into her dorm room at Birmingham Southern College. (OK-when we pulled up there were so many helpers, I didn't have to touch so much as a flat iron. But doesn't schlepping sound heroic?)

After helping her settle in, we attended the convocation. Parents hovered in stadium seats overlooking empty chairs awaiting the 400 new students. Robed professors proceeded in first and lined the aisle, fortification for the students as they filed past. Or perhaps they served as a protective barrier from the mamas above, only a hair's breath away from leaping below, snatching their babies, saving them from the parties, drinking, and sex which we could smell in the air.

Bowing our heads, we prayed with the chaplain, "God of new beginnings, we rejoice this day as we welcome to our community these new students....We are mindful of those around the world this day who do not have the privilege of higher education: whose lives are subject to violence and poverty, who must work and struggle just to survive. Forgive us for insulating ourselves from the world's realities, and help us to use the education we receive here to improve the world around us."

Fearful thoughts were replaced by a remembering of what we loved about this school: the intimacy, the honoring of the sacred, the commitment to make the world a better place. In only minutes, ritual provided well-needed comfort to unsettled souls.

Perhaps in hopes of framing our personal stories in the context of The Story, President Pollick quoted Ecclesiastes, "For every thing there is a season..."

After the ceremony Kiki walked to the parking lot with us to retrieve a few final items from the car. Echoing her brother's words she said, "Mom, let's say 'goodbye' here." We held each other close and then I opened my hands to set her free. It was her season to move on; mine and Malcolm's to channel parenting energy in other directions.

Kneeling in church this morning, I looked down at my hands. They didn't feel open, but empty. And yet, these same hands which held Brendan and Kiki as babies, which released them to the world, they were open, ready to receive, to raise up and give thanks. Experience tells me, this grieving will take time. That some moments I will feel empty and others quite open. I owe it to Brendan and Kiki to honor them by trying my best to fully embrace the empty and make space for the open. Once again, they can be my teachers.

Is there something in your life that you are holding on to that you are ready to, or is wanting to, be set free? Are you clinging to seasons past? If you were to envision opening your hands receptively, what would that be like? Would creating a ritual of release be helpful? This letting go work can be challenging as well as rewarding. Best wishes on the path and Namaste.

Day 5: Namaste

2009-08-29T04:51:00.000-07:00

Traditionally yoga classes conclude with teacher and students bowing to each other, palms pressed together in front the heart, offering the sanskrit greeting, "Namaste."

What is this Namaste? Originating from the Hindu tradition, there are a number of meanings attributed to the term. My favorite is, "The divinity within me honors the divinity within you."

For our practice today, may we offer "Namaste" to those around us, honoring our own divinity...reaching out, touching another's blessedness.

Since we aren't living in a culture where it is common to place our hands in front or our hearts, bow, and say, "Namaste," it might be more comfortable simply to send a silent "Namaste. " The possibilities are plentiful...to the person at the checkout counter... a loved one on the telephone...someone who is being difficult. Or perhaps you would like to spread the word and share the meaning, openly offering it to another.
Namaste

Day 4: Technology Sabbatical

2009-08-28T06:37:00.001-07:00

Addiction comes in many forms. A few years ago I realized I was addicted to technology. First thing in the morning, I would check my email. Throughout the day texts would fly between my new love and I. The drone of the fax machine kicking into gear meant someone was sending me something important, and I would rush to respond. Of course, I ended my day checking email.

So, I chose to change that. One Friday, I left my office, shut the door and vowed not to return until Monday morning. What an enlightening experiment! It was hard not to go up and check my computer, fax machine, and business line. As much as I whined and moaned about the demands placed on me, I realized I had begun to define myself by others' needs of me. I was addicted to the rush of being "contacted." I actually had to stop myself from going upstairs at least ten times that first Saturday.

Anne Morrow Lindbergh wrote, "For it is only framed in space that beauty blooms." Inspired by her wisdom, I used my newly recovered time to take walks in the woods, plant flowers, and sleep on the couch pretending to read the book on my lap.

From the space came moments of inspiration--inspiration that felt like a song singing me back to me. From the silence came new ideas that had room to breathe. In the past, they had been choked by faxes, emails and phone calls.

It is hard to believe that only 25 years ago many people did not have a personal computer at their desk; just 15 years ago email began to be widely used; and the Blackberry's popularity is only 5 years old. How did we survive without all of that "help?"

I am not proposing we throw our technology away and go back to the 1950's. I am merely suggesting we block of a period of time...half a day, a day, even a whole entire weekend when we choose not to use some or all of our technological devices. Imagine what might bloom in that fertile ground of unfettered time. Namaste

This post includes excerpts from my spiritual memoir, Dancing Naked Under the Moon Uncovering the Wisdom Within which may be purchased at Amazon. com.

Day 3: Wonder and Awe

2009-08-27T07:24:00.000-07:00

Daisy charged ahead on our long, gravel driveway. Realizing we were not stopping at the mailbox, but going for the treasured W-A-L-K, she burst into a head-waggling, booty-shaking circle dance, punctuated by a leap in the air. To withhold a smile witnessing such joy is surely a sin.

This morning the sky offered more questions than answers. To our right, waves of sea-foam clouds floated peacefully. Directly overhead, an ominous sheet of gray. And not far off to the left, the promise of clear, blue bliss.

How do those beauty berries transform overnight from green-leafy bush to pregnant, purple feasts for the eye? I remember the first time I saw a beauty berry...on an escape from the world weekend with my friend, Elinor. Amazing how this plant in the middle-of-nowhere, Alabama is one of my reminders of precious moments with a dear friend far away.

Dark clouds rumbling, Daisy and I took our chances and carried on. I was almost hoping for drops of rain to arouse my skin. Today, like every day, God is creating something new. Will I have the eyes to see it?

While on sabbatical, Sr. Mary McGehee served up a few guidelines for my time off--kind of like a recipe for renewal. One of those bits of wisdom was to, "Take time each day to live in wonder and awe of God's creation." May you find that opportunity today.

Many of us have more concrete than creatures in our midst. If that is the case for you, maybe you can be inspired by my neighbors in Tokyo. In that busy, noisy city were exquisite gardens on minuscule parcels of land. Busy "salary men" on the way to the train station would take a moment or two to stop and notice the blossoming cherry tree. The desire to commune with nature was greater than the obstacles of urban living. Namaste

Day 2: Pour Your Heart Into It

2009-08-26T06:27:00.000-07:00

Sitting cross-legged in front of her attentive audience, Maya Tiwari introduced us to Ayurveda, a holistic healing system believed to be over 7,000 years old. Mother Maya, as she is called, has an easy, yet authoritative manner. One moment her arms would be floating as she led us in a transformative chant, the next she would be scolding us about our American consumerism and waste. What struck me was her passion. The sheer force of life she embodied--whether sitting intently listening to a question, or dramatically sharing a story, we were swept up in her momentum.

Fascinated by this system for living, I bought her book, Ayurveda: A Life of Balance and learned about the Ayurvedic belief that the intention (heart) the cook brings to the preparation of the meal impacts the experience for both the cook and those who eat the meal. Although my interest in Ayurveda was short-lived, Mother Maya's teachings have frequently come to mind over the past 15 years.

Soon after hearing Mother Maya, we were living in Tokyo when one of our American neighbors gave birth to her third child. I offered to cook pasta shells for the family on the night that mother and baby returned home. Remembering the Ayurvedic teaching, I poured my whole heart into preparation of the meal. Dipping my spoon into ricotta cheese, I reached deep within to send blessings for the mother as well as the baby, who would be nourished by this meal through his mother's milk. Stirring spinach, mozzarella, and ricotta together I held the older sister and brother in my heart. Hoping they would receive him with joy and remember they too are loved. Finally, spooning pasta sauce over shells, I thought of the father, that he would have the strength to support his family emotionally as well as financially during this major life transition. My movements slowed. Filled with unexpected love for casual acquaintances, I felt so alive. Bending over the oven, placing the glass pan in the oven, an unexpected "Amen" fell from my lips. The mundane had become holy.

Consider something that you will be doing today, maybe something ordinary like cooking, or extraordinary like climbing a mountain, and choose to pour your whole heart into that experience. Perhaps you will approach it with passion like Mother Maya. Or you might choose to take the time to send blessings as you accomplish a routine task. If you like, share your experience with the rest of us. Namaste

Day 1: Nourishing Your Soul

2009-08-24T14:04:00.000-07:00

In Care of the Soul, Thomas Merton reminds us, "Getting away from the world has always been a part of the spiritual life....Some concrete, physical expression of retreat could be the beginning of a spiritual life that would nourish the soul. It could take the modest form of a drawer where dreams and thoughts are kept. It could consist of five minutes in the morning dedicated to writing down the night's dream or to reflect on the day ahead. It might be the decision to take a walk through the woods instead of touring the shopping mall....These are modest forms of retreat that serve the spiritual needs of the soul. Spirituality need not be grandiose in its ceremonials. Indeed, the soul might benefit most when its spiritual life is performed in the context it favors--ordinary daily vernacular life. But spirituality does demand attention, mindfulness, regularity, and devotion. It asks for some small measure of withdrawal from a world set up to ignore soul."

When Brendan and Kiki were young I felt like I was losing myself to motherhood. A wise friend counseled me to create a "Feed Your Soul Journal." Each day I would write down what I did to nourish that which was crying out deep within me. The entries were simple-drinking a latte on the bench near the bird feeder, walking Boomer alone, going outside while my husband did the dishes. Some of these activities were new. Many were not. Considering what I wanted and needed, taking the time to notice that I was feeding my soul, helped me find myself again. Silence the fertile ground from which the Sacred sprang.

Today, I invite you to give yourself the gift of a "modest form of retreat," a "small measure of withdrawal." What feeds your soul? Could you block off a period of time--five minutes, half-an-hour, to allow yourself to reconnect with that still, small voice inside? Perhaps the length of time is not as important as the act of carving out this sacred space and noticing the gift. Namaste

40 Days: A Practice Toward Renewal

2009-08-24T05:56:00.000-07:00

For quite a while I have been kicking around the idea of creating a daily prayer or presence practice. Each time I came close to making this "thought" a reality, I would stop myself with the realization that there are already many beautiful meditations, daily devotionals, or prayer practices available. Does the world really need another one?

And yet, if there is something inside of us wishing to take form, who are we to hold back the waves of creation? Perhaps sharing our gifts with the world requires riding these innovative waves and playing in the swells of the imagination. How much freer would we be with our gifts if we enjoyed them without concern for the "end product" or the judgment of others?

It is from this place of playfulness and spiritual exploration that I invite you to travel with me on this journey for the next 40 days. I will post a reflection/prayer/spiritual practice each day in hopes that we will learn, grow, and ultimately experience renewal together.

Why forty days? Most Jews and Christians understand the significance of the number 40 in the Bible. The rains fell for 40 days and 40 nights (Noah's ark experience Genesis 7:4)...Israel ate Manna for 4o years (Exodus 16:35)...Moses hung out with God twice for 40 days (Exodus 24:18 and Exodus 34:28) ....Jesus fasted for 40 days and nights (Matthew 4:2), was tempted 40 days (Luke 4:2, Mark 1:13), and remained on earth 40 days after resurrection (Acts 1:3). Each of these examples speaks to a time of testing which led to renewal and the fulfillment of promises.

Those of us who have given birth know that the "normal" length of pregnancy is (as if there really is one!) 40 weeks. Shah Nazar Ali Kianfar, a Sufi master says, "40 days, according to the teachings and practice of the prophets and holy masters, is the mystical number of the course of perfection, a course that leads to an experience of the true essence of one's humanity." Finally, according to some accounts, Buddha sat beneath the bodhi tree for 40 days when he attained enlightenment.

Unfortunately, I cannot promise you enlightenment, deliverance into the promise land, or perfection in these next 40 days. However, I believe by staying committed to this practice, for this period of time, we open ourselves to a greater likelihood of "experiencing the essence of one's humanity;" that the path on this journey will take unimagined twists and turns. I invite you to walk with me and hope you will share your experiences. Namaste.

Monkey Mind

2009-08-19T06:19:00.000-07:00

The Buddhists have a great term, "monkey mind" which means, "unsettled, restless, capricious, whimsical, fanciful, inconstant, confused, indecisive, uncontrollable." Wow! how is that for nailing the way our minds can ramble about?

Most mornings I take time to read something inspiring in hopes to set my heart in the direction of the Divine Heart. Afterward, I'll spend about 20 minutes in centering prayer.

Some days this routine is soothing, grounding-yeah, the desired outcome is achieved. Others, "monkey mind" takes over and I feel like I would've been better off reading some trashy magazine and slugging down a double barreled mochachino-latte thingy.

Yet, the great teachers I have heard, Lama Norlha, Rev. Cynthia Bourgeault, and Fr. Keating insist the point isn't the "experience" we have in our meditation time, but that we show up...simply being present day in and day out is the "key." In centering prayer this showing up is one of the ways we tend to our relationship with the Divine. It isn't a matter of noticing when we are thinking and letting that thought "be." It is about creating a sense of "inner openness" when we feel ourselves gripping in our daily lives; a Christ-like kenosis, or self-emptying.

The great masters teach that really there should be no "desired outcome" or qualification of one centering prayer session as more fruitful than another. Imagine that, showing up, not judging, inner opennes...oh what we can aspire toward! Maybe we can even take our experience on the meditation cushion out into our everyday experiences...with ourselves, with others...

Clean is overrated

2009-08-18T13:10:00.000-07:00

Like most teenagers, Brendan treasures his sleep. Even though his bedroom has a stunning view of the lake, he has left the blinds closed almost every day for the four years he lived here so that he wouldn't forget to pull them down at night. This and his habit of leaving his bed unmade have never been well received by me, Brendan's mom.

And so, in an effort to find good in the sadness of leaving Brendan out in the big world known as Auburn, I came home and opened all the blinds, swept his room, changed the sheets and made the bed...sharp corners and all.

Gratifying in some ways, the project left me empty. Yes, the comforter that never made it on top of the bed matched the paint color beautifully. And yes, the light streaming through the windows seemed to brighten the whole upstairs. But it didn't feel like Brendan's room. It was way too sterile...lifeless really. Nothing about this newly cleaned space reflected all of the fun times Brendan had in his room with his buddies over; or the late nights studying for a test; or the backrubs he sweetly asked for after a football game. No dirty clothes, no overflowing trash, no X-box controllers strewn about. Clean is overrated.

Last night when Malcolm and I went to bed Kiki said, "I miss Brendan, this is the time when we usually hang out. I'm gonna watch a movie in his room."

After filling the pot with vanilla cream coffee this morning I walked into Brendan's room and noticed the comforter was wrinkled, there was a plate with crumbs on the bed, and a half-full glass of water sitting on the wood floor.

Thank you Kiki for trashing the place.

What is it you want for me to do for you?

2009-08-17T05:38:00.000-07:00

Twice Jesus asks, “What is it you want me to do for you?” In the first instance, James and John are vying for privilege and power, wanting a seat at Jesus’ left and right hands. The second incident occurs when Bartimaeus, a blind beggar shouts for mercy.

Setting the Bible on the ottoman, I call to our white lab Daisy so I can ponder this question on a walk in the country. For a little while I move at a brisk pace, hoping to burn calories. Occasionally I remember the question and consider, “What is it I want Jesus to do for me?” Scattered thoughts pop like popcorn, my mind frequently wandering.

Descending from a steep hill, nearing the end of our second mile I wonder, “What if I were walking with Jesus right now and he asked, ‘What is it you want for me to do?’”

Instinctively I slow down and ultimately stop walking altogether. Surrounded by an arch of greenery, I turn to look back at the direction we have just come. Wisps of steam, barely noticeable, dance across the pavement. Turning toward home, I hear the morning-song of crickets. How had I missed their serenade?

Continuing my journey, at a relaxed pace, I imagine Christ at my side, asking, “What is it you want for me to do for you?” The answer spills forth, the question one more drop of rain needed overflowing the crest of a dam.

“Courage, I want the courage to do what I am intended to do; the courage to fully surrender my life to you even when it will be difficult. Clarity, so I will know how to be your presence here on earth; to know which path to take to best serve. And finally, community, I want support and collaborative partners, a place separate of our home for me to do my work.”

And then I sense a gentle reply, or perhaps a conversation from within, “You don’t have to do it all. You cannot have community and support if you block it before it even has time to step in the door. Leave the door open. Welcome what enters. Listen. As I have told you before, your church is ready. Do not be afraid. I will give you all that you need.”

Gratitude washes over me…Daisy and I slowly resume our journey toward home, burning fewer calories and drinking in the soothing scenery. I feel the prayers of all of the family and friends carrying us forward in this time of transition.

The REAL World

2009-08-05T12:55:00.000-07:00

Where is the real world? Is it glistening on the water as the sun’s rays dance across the lake? Is it the shrill song of the indigo bunting urging me on a country walk? Perhaps these are all escapes from the real world. You know, the one that calls us to the messiness of ministering to one another. Or sitting in long meetings only to eek out a crumb of progress, but progress none-the-less.

Maybe the real world is the one we are in this moment. Whether we are experiencing a calming, contemplative sense of expansiveness, or the frenetic pace of saving the world, we are in the midst of the real. Our choice is to notice this instance, this experience, the gift of the this NOW and most importantly, realize the Sacred is present in all of this.

The real is always there, our challenge is to recognize it.

Breathing out life force...

Breathing in our exhale.

Breathing out...Breathing in...

Imminent, Abiding, Love.

Boundless Presence...

Undeserved Forgiveness.

How can I possibly understand the Gift?

How do I share what I cannot comprehend?

Perhaps it is time for the mind to rest...

And surrender to the work of the heart.

Tending The Circle

2009-07-30T10:06:00.000-07:00

"If we are lucky, in the moment we die there is a circle of people around us who love us. But before that moment, there have been so many who have entered the circle and moved on. People from our childhood when we were little girls...all kinds of people." I listened to my friend share her insightful reflection and considered the implications.

I thought about how when we meet someone, we can only know a small portion of who that person really is because we haven't walked with them...in all those moments...in all those circles. Even close family members and beloved friends can only know aspects of who we were are, what we have experienced, who has entered and left the circle.

Then my imagination drifted off to being in that room and lying on a bed, my closest family and friends at my side. Who would I want there at this, my most vulnerable moment? Who would I want holding my hand? Saying a final "goodbye?" A few of the people who come to mind I have allowed to drift from the circle. I haven't nurtured our relationship.

There are others for whom I am grateful for the time we have had together, and it feels complete. I wish to bless them and release them from the circle. There are some for whom I have unfinished business. A friend I have hurt. A family member I have been angry with. What if we weren't given the benefit of a formal "goodbye?" Would I leave unresolved pain for loved ones to have to deal with?

This concept of people stepping in and out of the circle is intriguing. Sometimes we need the circle to be small, we only have so much energy to give. Right now I am hyper-focused on the precious few moments left with Brendan and Kiki before they leave for college in a few weeks. I am hesitant to fill up my calendar so I can be available for them. Other times we fling our arms open wide, expansively embracing those who come our way.

I want to be more awake, more aware of how I tend to the circle. To nurture and enJOY those who I invite in. To bless and release those whose time it is to go. And to ask for and offer forgiveness. Who knows what the ripple effect could be as my circle touches all of the other circles around me.

Praying Our Desires

2009-07-21T10:23:00.000-07:00

"Receptivity only happens in the present moment." Mary Whetsell

My receivers seem to have been out of commission lately. Try as I might, not much new has been cranking.This traditionally idea-flooded imagination is experiencing a drought. What to write about? What kind of programs to offer? Even coming up with new dinner menus is daunting. A lot of the same old same keeps floating around.

Last week I was creating a "personal retreat" for a friend and client. As I pulled together inspirational writings and prayer practices for her day of Sabbath, I explored one of the practices myself--"The Desire Prayer" from Teresa A. Blythe's, 50 Ways to Pray. The instructions are quite simple...state your heart's deepest desire before God...visualize it...let go of specific outcomes...ask how you might assist in fulfilling the desire...give thanks ...reflect...One of the final instructions for the prayer is, "In the days following this prayer, be aware of ways God may be offering you opportunities to live into the desire."

There it was again, the reminder to notice, be awake, pay attention the power of what is happening NOW.

These past few days I haven't experienced any dramatic changes, but I have seen subtle shifts. Conversations that may be pointing in the direction of fulfilling my desire. Opportunities and choices being considered by family members that would support this desire. Unexpected good news freeing up resources. I am grateful for renewed hope and trying to be more gentle with myself.

What is your deepest desire? Can you take some time to sit quietly with God and pray for support to live into this desire? Do you trust your prayer will be answered? Can you follow Mary Whetsell's advice and be receptive to what is? Perhaps even watch your desire unfolding before your very eyes? I hope so, and if so, please let me know so I can be inspired by you!

Picking Flowers

2009-06-11T08:51:00.000-07:00

The straw from my wide brimmed hat itches my head, but is necessary to protect me from ticks and the sun. Shears in one hand and stainless steel vase in another, Daisy and I trudge up the driveway to the wildflower garden. Three years in the making, this spring's torrential rains left an abundance of black eyed susans, blanket flowers, purple things I don't know what to call...a daily reminder that without rain our flowers cannot bloom. A fitting metaphor these days as I prepare to release my children to the world and find tears often close to the surface. What lovely new things will birth from these tears?

I step carefully into the garden...Monday's harvest yielded red ants feasting on my feet and ankles. Also, if I am not mindful of where I step, I may trample a precious bloom.

Snip the first black eyed susan surrenders her freedom outdoors to continue in a place of honor on our table. Will she miss the outdoors or revel in the daily attention and compliments?

Recently, Malcolm and I have been thinking about moving into Birmingham and selling this beautiful land. Simplicity is calling; yet leaving would be hard. This morning I placed Malcolm's heart-felt words in a silver frame...a prayer really, that we move toward a life of radical simplicity, one that allows more time for relationships...and doing things we love to do.

What flowers would be best to place in the thin, glass vase I'll place next to the framed prayer? Lingering on the multitude of choices I find the sweetest yellow flower...tiny, fragile stem, vibrant yellow...oh, and another just like it. An unusual variety of black eyed susan catches my eye-it has streaks of dark brown in the flower. Finally, a daisy with a few unfurled petals completes the arrangement for my beloved. Tender, vulnerable, unique, and not-yet-formed, these blooms embody the dream we are still dreaming.

Walking back down the drive with arms full I stop at the edge of the driveway where the oak leaf hydrangeas hide under a canopy of hardwoods. Setting my load down on the gravel I traipse into the wooded area...it is such a shame these beauties are hidden from the world. Remembering the first time I was introduced to oak leaf hydrangeas 10 years ago by a man whose passion for plants and trees opened my heart to a world before unseen, I lean in as far as I can without falling and choose three white blooms in their prime. You will be placed on the counter in honor of Jonathon who loved planting some of your cousins in a home far away in North Carolina. And then my mind wanders...do the current owners love those hydrangeas? the red buds, hostas, Christmas ferns, and fringe tree that we planted?

Renewed, I place the pickings on the counter and gingerly pull away unnecessary leaves, fuss at uncooperative stems...immersed in the pleasure of the gentle task at hand.

Riding the Waves

2009-05-08T07:53:00.000-07:00

Yesterday while on the phone with a wise friend she said, "Sounds like you are riding the waves. You can feel the motion changing, but you just can't control it." It sounded so easy when she said it. At least I could understand why I had been feeling a bit "seasick" lately.

Even though I have lived within driving distance of the "shore" in New Jersey, the "ocean" in California, or the "beach" in North Carolina and Alabama, I have never tried surfing. Nothing about it appealed to me. Standing, (if you ever get to that part) on a skinny board, tossed about wildly, wondering if sharks are lurking below is of absolutely no interest to me. Why would I want my life to be like that?

Yet I wonder if we aren't always surfing--feeling the motion changing around us. I decided to check out surfing tips on the web hoping they would help me ride some of the waves I am on right now. I went to chiff.com and found some great stuff!

Mark the balance point. Basically, this sounds like using trial and error to find where you can best balance while lying down on the board. There was an important note about this step...when you reach balance, take note of where that point is . Hmmm-
Paddle with one arm at a time. Apparently, this allows for you to maintain a consistent speed so you can catch the wave. (I guess as opposed to being pummeled by it.) Going full-speed with both arms is detrimental to control.
Be calm and stay still when first trying to sit on the board. Wow! This is SO Fr. Keating. "The less movement you make, the easier it is to do this (sit on the board). All the other skills of surfing will improve as you learn to be 'calm' while surfing." I guess that means making radical, reactionary changes will knock us off our boards.
When you come up, remember to keep low. Assume a position of a sumo wrestler. I have no idea how this might translate to riding life's waves, but I love the visual.
Practice this for hours. So those trips to the zafu cushion to meditate or the yoga mat to practice must be of some benefit in this life wave surfing thing.

OK-I'm not as afraid of surfing as I was before and I actually feel like I know this stuff when it comes to riding life's waves. I am grateful to chiff.com for the reminder! Surf's up!

Leaning Into the Hard Stuff

2009-05-07T13:42:00.000-07:00

Driving home from the academic awards ceremony from Brendan and Kiki's high school, I complained to Malcolm about how adding the 7th and 8th graders to the agenda was a bad idea. The ceremony was nearly 2 1/2 hours long and it felt like this year, the year my children are seniors, the seniors were short-changed.

I told Malcolm after 4 years of watching the parade of seniors walking up to claim their prize, this year's scholarship recognition ceremony felt rushed. I said my issue was wanting to see how these students we have known and loved for 4 years did in the scholarship race. Malcolm, the wise soul that he is, didn't say much. Being married to a peri-menopausal woman who is about to lose both her babies is a dangerous job. I notice he is quiet about a lot of things these days.

Anyway, this morning when Daisy and I were on our morning jaunt those same feelings of anger/resentment rose up again about what I thought was a "botched" job. At the 1/2 mile mark I was feeling pretty self-righteous about the whole thing. A mile later, doubt crept in. Perhaps the ceremony was wonderful just the way it was. In fact, maybe it wasn't all those other seniors I was worried about, only my seniors. Ouch! It was true. I was more interested in the accolades I wanted my children to receive than I was the benefit of the entire the community. Gross! I am one of those moms who seeks gratification through her children. I really think it would be much easier to pass through this life unconscious sometimes.

Contemplative Outreach teaches a beautiful prayer, called the Welcoming Prayer. It allows one to "dance with her demons." The "dance" begins with the intention to consent to the presence and action of the indwelling Spirit, followed by 3 parts:
first, notice the uncomfortable sensation in your body; second, welcome and name the uncomfortable sensation/feeling (in my case, "pride"); and finally, release it by saying:

I let go of my desire for CONTROL/POWER
I let go of my desire for AFFECTION/ESTEEM
I let go of my desire for SECURITY/SURVIVAL
I let go of my desire to CHANGE (this situation, feeling, emotion, thought, commentary, body sensation, or event)

It is one of the most counter-intuitive responses to difficult emotions I can imagine. Yet it is powerful and it has helped me countless time "be with" anger, fear, greed, you name it, and eventually the hold the emotion has on me seems to dissipate. It is as if by LEANING INTO the hard stuff we can embrace it...immobilizing its power over us.

Well, it took a few miles, but eventually I was able to own up to my silly need for approval and even forgive myself for being selfish and petty. I felt lighter during that last 1/2 mile and was free to notice the wild daisies that have cropped up everywhere.

If you are interested in learning more about Welcoming Prayer, I encourage you to go to the Contemplative Outreach website . Happy Leaning! Let's face it, we can turn our back on those demons, but eventually they'll catch up to us one way or another. I just wish there weren't so many of them.

Squandering All of Who We Are

2009-05-06T13:35:00.000-07:00

"The Spirit of God has made me. The breath of the Almighty gives me life." Job 33:4 Early this morning I read the preceding passage and decided to stay with it lectio divina style. Each reading moved me deeper into soft spaces within, an opening to softness which has been illusive lately.

In the Buddhist tradition one is taught to be grateful for this precious life; that it is a privilege to embody the human form as opposed to that of a frog, or a dog, or an ant. (Although the way our yellow lab Daisy, and orange kitty Speedy are treated, I am not so sure they haven't drawn the better straw.) In any case, during my meditation time waves of gratitude washed over me as I tried to comprehend the unlikely event of my ever being born...the gift of continuing to breathe each breath.

My prayer moved from one of gratitude to that of resolve, "I will not squander my precious life." And yet, how does one not squander a life? I made a list:

love unconditionally
forgive generously
smile often
abide the wisdom of small children and the elderly
give thanks
share your gifts with reckless abandon
face your demons lest they run your life
when you hear the voice of judgment, either in your head or on your lips, change your tune...and then forgive yourself for judging
work diligently at whatever you do
remember what you do is not nearly as important as how you do it...intention is everything
dance (maybe even naked under the moon now and then)
laugh
cry
make time for those you love
make time for yourself
sit in silence with the Divine
notice the sparkles on the water after a storm; listen to the tree frogs in the spring; smell the fragrance of gardenias
choose to be a blessing

What would you add to the list?

Funny, nothing on this list can be purchased. Yet we live in a material world which requires paying for food, clothes, and shelter-not to mention whirlwind trips to New Orleans (subject of another blog perhaps). Could it be that in the course of our lives, melding the spiritual with the material has more to do with the spirit that we bring to our endeavors? Maybe building in daily reminders that "The Spirit of God has made me. The breath of the Almighty gives me life." helps us to make choices that keep us from squandering this precious life. In fact, I wonder if we wouldn't find ourselves squandering all of who we are in reckless acts of love and generosity, kind of life this guy who poured out all of who he was a coupla thousand years ago.

What do you think?

Mothers at the Cross

2009-04-14T05:01:00.000-07:00

This year, Malcolm and I immersed ourselves in Holy Week services. Maundy Thursday we witnessed the altar being stripped of all ornamentation. A cadre of solemn, silent men and women systematically removed candelabras, chalices, and flowers. When Fr. Bob covered the crosses in sheer black shrouds and then methodically wiped the empty altar with a cloth, it was as though we were all being wiped clean, laid bare.

The next day, during the retelling of the Passion story at the Stations of the Cross service, I was struck by Jesus’ mother’s response to her beaten son struggling to reach Golgotha. Seeing him bear the cross upon his back, Mary broke from the crowd and reached out to Jesus in an attempt for a final embrace. Her overture was rebuked by a Roman soldier and she was denied this most basic desire—for a mother to hold her hurting son. Eyes closed, listening to the reading, for a horrible moment, I imagined what it would be like to see my son Brendan, a young man now, undergoing this same torture. My heart ached and I could not bear to stay with that brutal thought.

The Roman soldiers of Mary’s time were not known for their kindness. Breaking ranks and causing a disturbance took courage. Yet Mary’s need to simply touch her son and reassure him that she was there was greater than her desire for safety. Oh, how many mothers know this most primal of needs? How many attempts to reach out have been thwarted? This loving our children can be the most piercing of loves.

I thought of a friend whose son is in prison, accused of a heinous crime. She endures long stretches of time before receiving communication. Physical touch is non-existent. From afar she feels his loneliness, fear, and shame.

Parents who have watched their alcohol or drug-addicted children slip away from them came to mind. Many times they reach out to offer one more chance, one more solution, sometimes at great physical or financial peril to themselves.

Later in the Good Friday service we learn that Mary stood at the foot of the cross watching Jesus die. Most of Jesus’ followers were hiding, afraid for their safety. Apparently, for Mary standing witness, even when she lacked the power to change the catastrophic flow of events, was of paramount importance. Something in Mary knew that her standing witness made a difference.

I remembered the friend who watched her baby die in the neo-natal intensive care unit. I thought of the mothers who have lost their adult daughters to cancer. Their vigils included caring for grandchildren, driving to chemo appointments, listening to angry rants, and much more.

Sometimes we parents are called to take action, like Mary reaching out to her son. It may mean advocating for another test to be run, or for authorities to give a troubled teen one more chance, more support in school, rather than pushing the child aside for the sake of expediency.

Other times, we can only witness and hold loving vigil, like Mary at the foot of the cross. Mary’s broken heart is every parent’s broken heart when we come to realize that we cannot protect our children from harm. Sometimes, all we can do is trust that our witnessing makes a difference; and that we do not stand alone.

Reaching Back to the Future

2009-04-02T09:53:00.000-07:00

A couple of Saturdays ago Malcolm and I heard Jerry Wright, a Jungian analyst and Presbyterian Minister speak on Celtic Spirituality and Jungian Psychology. It was exciting to hear about how some people in the "church" are trying to incorporate lost Celtic traditions.

Jerry spoke of the resurgence of an eco-spirituality that was part of the fabric of everyday life in Celtic culture; and an awareness of the interconnectedness of the physical and spiritual realms. It was a bit surreal to think that some of what is considered "progressive" thought today is really a reaching back to our pre-Roman roots.

Last week Phyllis Tickle, the Christian editor and writer who has documented the Emergent Church movement was in town, she too made reference to the "church" reaching back. However her reach seemed to be more recent--pre-Reformation.

In any case, I came away from these back-to-back Saturdays of sitting in hard chairs with a sense that perhaps the upheavals many of us in Christian churches feel today are more about healing and integrating that which has been lost, and less about splitting apart.

Could it be that the Christian, and for that matter human, family is birthing a new way of integrating the more feminine dimensions (eco-spirituality, non-dualism, radical imminence of God) of itself with the masculine dimensions which have dominated the last 1600 years? A psychologically healthy human is able to balance and appreciate both his or her masculine and feminine attributes. At best, one does not dominate the other. I guess it isn't a far stretch to imagine that balance as critical for the church family and the human family as well.

Could it be that the uncomfortable upheaval being felt in virtually all of the major Christian denominations is a reaching back for pre-denominational relations?

A mere mortal in the pews, I am not qualified to answer either of these important theological questions. However, I do feel a sense of hope rather than dread. Hope that we can find a way to chart a new course which honors the concerns of those who like things "just the way they are" and the needs of those who have found spiritual nourishment lacking in the traditional church experience. Hope that in our perceived sense of coming apart we will find wholeness. A wholeness that accepts the sacredness of all of God's children. How radical is that?

Choosing Life

2009-02-28T06:18:00.000-08:00

No, this is not about abortion...

Recently I have been struck by the important choices before me and people I love. I am contemplating whether to pursue formal seminary or non-traditional spiritual training. Brendan and Kiki are in the throes of choosing which colleges to attend. Dear friends are choosing whether to move far away for a new career opportunity (yes, opportunities still exist). Most compelling of all, another friend's loved one has chosen to move "home" to die.

Each of these choices are quite different and yet similar in that they hold an opportunity for moving toward life. (Perhaps especially the man moving "home.") Frequently, I create a self-imposed burden of making the "right" choice...driving myself and others a bit crazy with the perfectionist pressure of it all ( you need to be feeling for Malcolm right about now). And yet, maybe it isn't what we choose, but how we respond to our choices that matters most.

Yes, I want to take time to "BE STILL," waiting to choose from the wisdom of stillness (that alone is a monumental task for some of us). Yes, I want to seek the counsel of sagacious souls before deciding. Yes, I hope for a sense of peace about my choice. And yet I wonder, unless it is intentionally harmful to others, is there really a wrong choice?

My brother Mike had great advice for Brendan and Kiki, "College is what you make of it no matter where you go." The friend who is discerning about moving her family realized, "we could be happy either place." Could we carry these messages into our choosing? Life is what we make of it...happiness is possible anywhere-even in economically difficult times.

Sometimes we are fortunate and the path is evident with relative ease. When we were choosing to move to Alabama, Kiki was positive she would love St. Bernard High School and she has. At the same time, Brendan was not so sure, and yet he has had an equally wonderful experience. Surety and clarity is a gift. Choosing from that place is like life reaching her pulsing palm and pulling us toward fullness. It just isn't that simple many times.

When I reflect on many of the important choices I have made, frequently the experience of living out that choice was quite different from my anticipated experience of it (Kind of like results of those financial plans I helped create back in the 80's and early 90's). And so perhaps imagining what our choice will be like is over-rated. Sure we want to do our homework. But, could the "trick" be in letting go of the expectation of how things will be once we have made our choice?

Choosing life means choosing to fully experience the process of discerning and living into the choices with an open heart and an open mind. Come to think of it, we are all experiencing this moment in this way, as a result of lots of small and big choices over the course of our lifetimes.

Burning Down the House

2009-02-26T14:22:00.000-08:00

OK-it is that time of year when we Christians have an opportunity to spring clean our souls. Last night our priest shared a Buddhist parable about a monk's house burning down and the monk's response was, "Great! Now I have a better view of the sunrise."

This story has stuck with me all day as I ponder what is standing in the way of my view right now? Unfortunately my view-blocker is not a simple, two-story home, but more of a New York skyscraper.

Here I am again, standing at Lent's open door ready to walk in with great intentions. Yet I am fully aware that if I'm lucky to live to next Lent, many of my future obstructions will be the exact same as this year's. How can I be so sure? Experience.

In can be tough to remain optimistic in the face of such grim history. It is daunting to attempt to burn down the entire structure. Perhaps if I focus on one room-hmmmm there are lots to choose from--pride, control, approval,... I will be that much closer to the sunrise next year. Besides, if I accurately remember that Lenten/Easter story, I'm not doing this alone

Antidotes for the Economic Blues

2009-02-07T05:19:00.000-08:00

Let's face it, fear, doom and gloom are pervading our societal consciousness. Given the current state of things, what can we do to combat a case of the "Economic Blues?" As one who can be susceptible to this insidious disease, here are some antidotes that have helped.

Find someone, or an organization we care about and offer our talents in a meaningful way. It is amazing how healing it can be to "get outside ourselves." Besides, we need to do something with all of that time we used to spend shopping.
Count your blessings. Mom knew what she was talking about. Keep a gratitude journal by starting or ending your day making a list of people/places...anything for which you are grateful. Just last week I heard the story of a woman who found her way back from a deep depression and one of the tools that helped her was grabbing a journal and writing about what was good in her life, before her feet even hit the floor.
Pray...you can use Anne Lamott's favorite, "HELP ME! HELP ME!" or perhaps a version of the Julian of Norwich prayer: "All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well." I have found ranting cathartic at times. I hope I am right in my belief that God can take it. Make it your own, the important part is to take time to be still with that Higher Power and remember that no matter what happens, we are not alone.
Laugh-call a friend who is sure to make you smile. Add comedies to your Netflix cue. Check out a funny book at the library. (I just finished Lamb: the Gospel according to Biff, Christ's Childhood Pal. It is hysterical, but for those who like a sanitized Jesus I must warn you, this book is highly irreverent. I also hope I am right in believing Jesus has a sense of humor!)

The downturn in the economy is unsettling and downright frightening for some. I wonder if we can draw any strength from courageous friends who have inspired us by the way they faced a serious medical diagnosis. What is it about their responses that inspire us? For me, it is their ability to find meaning in the muck, laugh in spite of fear and pain, and their laser-sharp clarity about what is truly valuable.

Markers of Time

2009-02-04T04:13:00.000-08:00

The whistle blew and the referee ran over to the scorer's table barking out, "blue three two," my son Brendan's number. Then the head scorer at the table raised his hand, all five fingers stretched out indicating Brendan had fouled out mid-way through the third period. Multiple whistles blew and Brendan began to walk off the court, shoulders slouched and disappointment written all over his face....his final high school game. It was a hard way to end his high school sports career--down by more than 20 points, fouling out, shots weren't sinking, and playing far from his home court.

We knew the day would come when this chapter in his, and our lives would come. What I wasn't prepared for was how hard it would be to hold back the tears. Perched in the top row of the tiny gym at Parkway Christian Academy, the last thing I wanted to do was embarrass Brendan, or me by letting the faucet flow.

I wanted to stand up and cheer; I wanted to go over to the bench and hug him; I wanted to tell him it wasn't all defined by this one moment. Any one of those responses would have drawn the scorn of a mortified young man. No, I put my game face on and when the parent in front of me kindly commented, "Without him this game is over" I simply smiled and suggested the team might still pull it off when every part of me wanted to scream, "This is harder than I thought it would be."

One more step toward independence. One more marker of time. One more "good-bye" in a year filled with "good-byes."

In the car on the way home I sat in the back so Brendan could dissect the game with Malcolm if he wanted. Silence escorted us most of the 90 minute ride home. At one point I patted his shoulder, "Thank you for putting yourself out there and playing your heart out all of these years. I am proud of you and have loved watching you play." "Uh huh." Was his only response.

Brendan walked into Chick-Fil-A to attempt to fill that endless pit called, "teenage male stomach" and I squeeked from the backseat, "I just want to cry and cry and cry." Malcolm reached back for my hand, "Go ahead and cry baby." And I did, but when I saw Brendan lumbering out of restaurant I wiped the tears away and felt grateful for the darkness of night.

Another step toward independence for Brendan. Another step toward a new chapter for Malcolm and me.

Do we offer enough opportunities?

2009-01-05T14:08:00.000-08:00

Do we offer enough opportunities?

How often do we "adults" lament about the selfishness of today's youth? I believe our misgivings are misplaced. Perhaps it is not the youth who are misguided, but their guides, we parents, grandparents, stepparents....

Just before Christmas I received an urgent email that a local charity, Greater Birmingham Ministries (GBM), was running out of toys to distribute for children in need. If the community did not respond immediately, some children would not have toys for Christmas. I forwarded the email to some friends, who in turn did the same.

Days later I received this email, forwarded to me by a friend.

"My kids have truly found the spirit of Christmas. After reading your email last week, they decided to take all of the gift cards they have received this year (and even went and found those received last year and not used) to buy toys for GBM. All three kids went to Target and Wal Mart last Friday and shopped for other kids. Not one wanted anything for themselves-unbelievable...We delivered the toys Saturday (about $600 worth) and they helped bag for 2 hours and didn't want to leave when i said we had to go because of other commitments!! It brings tears to my eyes just thinking about this. Thank you for passing on the opportunity to help others.

What a great lesson this mother can teach us-to offer our children the opportunity to respond with kindness and generosity. How many chances do we provide for our children, grandchildren, nieces, nephews to experience generosity? My suspicion is that if we protected our children less from the abundant lessons of sharing available in their every-day lives, we would be pleasantly surprised by their responses. And for those reluctant young ones, if we continued to encourage generosity, even in spite of their resistance, might they eventually develop a habit of kindness? Do we offer enough chances for the children/youth in our lives to experience the joy that this family knows?