Recent Podcasts
One of our members (actually an elder) brought the message this week, focusing on joy and happiness in the present moment.
Listen to this post: http://www.turtleboxstories.com/audio/whengodswoops.mp3
What's the hardest thing you ever been asked to or felt compelled to do? I believe mine, so far in this life, is just beginning. Perhaps the hardest and the simplest, in that I am following my heart, but it's leading me to a more exterior life than I have had in quite awhile... one that, in fact, scares me.
Since I left full-time work to raise kids, flirt with freelance, nurture training and volunteering, I have had the flexibility to deal with chronic issues. It's also what has allowed me time for introspection and a spiritual journey. What, I ask out loud, happens if I don't have the energy and stamina to make this next, big step of taking my nurture work out of a faith-community context and into the real world?
In a surreal labyrinth walk when I wrestled with this question, Jesus met me in the center with the promise that I would not be asked to give more than I would be assisted with. As my shamanic counselor says: "You've got the Big Guy in your corner." He, the counselor, also understood my fear: "Well, you have struggled with that issue before."
Nevertheless, I am forging ahead: beginning to negotiate for a space and applying for a grant ... though I know full well I will secure that space with or without the grant. My Quaker clearness committee for this work and the grant suggested a partner may help. I agree, but am not sure who or where that support lies. I am being called, I think, to walk forward even in the doubt and trust that I will be given what I need when I need it.
When I inspect my history, I always have:
– Like the time I devastatingly discovered my nurture training in Philadelphia was happening NOW, not next week when my flight was booked, my childcare was lined up and my mother would be back in town. I fell apart but, with my husband's strong support, I was on my way in 12 hours. After three delays, the elder who picked me up suggested that I unpack and re-ground before joining the group. In doing so, I noticed I had, fortunately, forgotten only one item: dental floss. As I opened the empty dresser drawer to put my clothes away, something tucked away in the corner caught my eye; an unopened package of floss. This discovery was accompanied by the message of "Trust and I will give you what you need." The bigger gift I received that very day was to know how much I had been missed by arriving late. Until then, I had not felt a very integral part of this community. Apparently, I was traveling on God's time.
– Or, when I was sitting in the bath tub one morning contemplating just slipping away because the pain and violent vertigo were too much. I glanced at the clock and realized Lily would be home from kindergarten in an hour and I could not let her find me. I dressed, then threw a tantrum, pounding my fists on the floor and screaming at God to help me. A small voice said: "Go to what you know." "What the hell is that right now?" I snarled back, then sat down at my nearby computer and began researching drug reactions. It was all I could do. I soon learned that I was having withdrawal from a nasty drug used to treat fibromyalgia my now ex-doc had recommended stopping altogether. But, you know, that little piece of information made all of the difference; it didn't ease the chore of going back on and weaning off, but it showed me just how much God cared and completely altered my attitude.
– On a solo trip to Italy, arriving after 17 hours of planes, shuttles, trains and a bus with no English speakers, I pointed to my map and was anxiously shoved off, completely lost, into an abandoned-looking district. I eventually found that street names are embedded on the sides of buildings and, in tears, not knowing how much farther my journey, noticed a sign in English in the back of a small Italian car window that read: "I am with you" and I knew I was not alone ... not ever.
– Also at midnight in Florence, with no buses in sight, I began walking the three miles to the convent, praying to arrive safely. I figured out a general path back, ducked into a small hotel to check my map and a kind employee, who spoke English, pointed me in the safest direction. "You have a long way to go," he said. I responded: "But you don't know how far I've come." I felt God's presence the entire way back, returning late and exhausted, but in one piece. When I awoke the next morning, I was exhilarated that we had made that journey together.
When I think about these instances, I am stunned by how much God does, indeed, show up of me, whenever I ask and even when I don't. I am certain there are so many other times, probably daily, that I don't even bother to notice. Wow.
• What is God currently asking of me?
• How have I responded?
• When has God given me what I needed when I needed it?
• How am I able to trust that will happen?
• How can I practice awareness of where God is working in my life?
always at my weakest
alone and frightened
overwhelmed, perhaps
unable to continue
God swoops in
in some unexpected way
and rescues me
that I CAN
count on
Listen to this post: http://www.turtleboxstories.com/audio/take20.mp3
This morning, after a swim and before I sat down to do some work, I worried myself into some centering prayer. I have been trying to make it a somewhat regular (almost daily) practice because it sets a much simpler and happier course for my day if I do.
If you're not familiar with it, it's pretty easy. Basically, you allot 15-30 minutes to sit in quiet with God. There is a recommended way of sitting (in a comfortable chair, but not so much so that you'll fall asleep, back straight, feet planted on floor, hands on your knees palms up – to receive – and eyes closed) and you may want to do a few stretches to prepare. Often a focus word, mantra, image or color is way in and a manner of reminding yourself to come back to the center when your thoughts stray ... and, rest assured, they will. Keep that simple. Breath is also an easy and natural way to focus. Just surrender to God. It's pretty powerful and healing stuff even if it feels as if nothing happens.
My mind gears were churning away playing ping pong with an unspoken fear. Eventually, I could name the fear and relinquish it. It's the fear of how I can do what God is currently asking of me (open a nurture studio) without the normal benchmarks such as a paycheck and boss. I understand that those aren't meant for me right now, but I want to be tethered in some way.
And I sank into the nothingness. I emerged with a start, a few minutes ahead of the timer, but I felt done. Done enough to read the daily devotion from Father Thomas Keating's "The Daily Reader for Contemplative Living." And there were my benchmarks for the subject was Fruits of the Spirit:
• Charity (love),
• Joy
• Peace
• Meekness
• Gentleness
• Long-suffering
• Goodness
• Patience
• Self Control
[Galatians 5:23]
When I had first done centering prayer with the nuns while on retreat several weeks ago, they used this book and it spoke so deeply to me then. It is so clear where I need to grow based just on that list and even the order in which the fruits were listed.
And today being Valentine's Day, I understand why love is at the top.
• How do I make time to regularly connect with the Divine?
• What happens when I do?
• What do I notice when I don't?
• How playful am I in experimenting with ways to connect?
• What's currently working for or speaking to me?
all revved up and
nowhere to go
except into myself
stirring up trouble
and worry
not the best way
to begin the day
so, I take a breath,
regroup and take
20
20 minutes to
sit in centering prayer
a mere smidgen of my day
to just be with God
can't I manage to find that somewhere?
just when it seems like a chore
or one more thing to fit in,
I am reminded that it
benefits me most of all
We had a retreat together last weekend at our meetinghouse, and during Sunday morning worship we had two people from our community share about their lives and faith. It was a really fun way to get to know some people a little better, and it's an annual retreat tradition. Check out thepodcast!
Listen to this post: http://www.turtleboxstories.com/audio/purityofclearness.mp3
In 12 years of being Quaker and participating in as many clearness committees, I experienced the truest form of this tool yesterday. Sometimes they have offered advice, caring hearts and listening ears. Rarely have they been what yesterday's was: the chance for the person seeking clearness to state the concern and provide background out of silent worship, lapse back in, have the committee ask only authentic questions without imposing themselves, pause silently again, then reflect back what they have heard the focus person say.
It is a beautiful process and one in which I was the recipient. Too often, in my experience, we want to do what we do in the secular world: listen briefly, then try to fix it for the person in question. Either that or leave it merely at listening.
It's was not an easy thing to spill my soul, but I was unburdened by the boundaries the careful clerk laid. If I laughed or cried, the group was told not to react, to let me sit with these emotions, experience them and look to the Inner Teacher for guidance. Boy that was hard. I cried and laughed, but holding to the rule of no response, except to question and reflect back, taught me things I would not have known otherwise.
One thoughtful member asked me what I feared. I said not having the energy to accomplish what I feel God is calling me to. Saying that aloud dissipated much of the anxiety brewing within. Another prodded me more than once to explore this notion of "being tethered" I said I lacked. Turns out I feel overwhelmed by the scope that has been shown to me. Overwhelmed in a practical way, not spiritually. Spiritually I am so clear. Clearer than I have ever been. Putting that into practice is where I am stymied. The group reflected back that I tend to feel over-responsible and that I have to do it all myself. I do know one of my lessons is to ask for help. In this reflection, I could see that, perhaps, a partner could solve these realistic worries. A partner? I had never thought of that, exactly. I have prayed for companionship and community. But a partner with whom to share the daily ups and downs may be precisely what I need.
It's all still hatching and I am proceeding cautiously, yet I am moving forward. I have found a space I want to rent in which to do this work and have a deadline next week with a grant that, hopefully, will pay for the space. This is where I become tethered instead of spread among my small garage studio, computer in the house [or off at a coffee shop somewhere] and classes at my Quaker Meeting.
Clearness, real clearness among the nurturance of safety and companionship, is a rare gift. One for which I am eternally grateful.
• With whom can I become clear?
• What have my experiences with clearness committees been?
• How have others helped me access my Inner Teacher?
• How easily do I listen and discern when I want a quick fix?
• What has patience (maybe also persistence) taught me?
sometimes I just want to
revert to the old world,
the one I knew before
becoming Quaker
where everybody had
a way to fix everything
then I remember
that didn't work so well
and the only real path
for me is to plod on,
quietly listening, discerning
and seeking the same in
community
Listen to this post: http://www.turtleboxstories.com/audio/quietgiant.mp3
I want to rail ... rail that someone I consider a rock is suffering. I just don't understand this kind of pain and why it's inflicted so randomly. The phrase shit happens comes to mind, but that does not begin to cover the scope of a devastating cancer diagnosis, stents that break loose creating interior havoc, chemo that wipeseverything out and a rushed surgery when a body is already under siege.
It's especially incomprehensible because it's Fred: Fred the treasurer; Fred the cautious and steady one; Fred the accountable one; Fred whom you can count on; Fred who rebuilt houses after Katrina; Fred who has always accepted my wild child Lily for who she is; Fred who makes sure the meeting [church] grounds and building are in good repair, safe and a respite from the world; organized, controlled Fred, who seems worlds away from my messiness, yet always manages to support my half-baked endeavors. We are like night and day. He's the on-the-ball numbers guy and I am the off-the-wall artsy-fartsy one, always struggling to discern my path through the haze of chronic pain. Now Fred has far more than a haze and yet, I think he saw me for who I am ... through all of the clutter.
He and Mary Ellen, his wife and our longtime clerk, have just always been there: when I applied for a scholarship to attend a far-away, two-year spiritual nurture program with young children; when we were purchasing new windows for the meetinghouse and I wondered if we could also fund ministry; when we wrestled with a formal pastor search after God had given us a gift; when I felt called to attend a Quaker writing conference and he deemed it an emergency, loosening emergency funds ...
I don't remember a time when they weren't there. Except for now, when they are at the hospital and noticeably absent from worship.
Tuesday, when then nurture group I lead met to explore a "journey to the center" with candles leading the way to a sacred circle, we placed both of them there in prayer the entire hour-and-a-half. We hoped to wrap them in God's embrace, edging the grip of disease.
I asked our minister when she visited Fred to tell him Lily was praying for him and she reported that he squeezed her hand at that message. Lily and Fred have developed an interesting relationship. As she has outwardly manifested various growth phases in her manner of dress (loud, disheveled and mismatched), Fred has always positively commented on her choices, encouraging her creativity and self expression. In his loving teasing of my wild child and constant support of my wild leadings, his BIG heart shows on his sleeve.
My prayer is that God is holding his heart and hand right now.
• Who's the Fred in your life?
• When have you found a cheerleader who seems so polarly opposite to you?
• What riches have the quiet supporters in your life provided?
• How/where do you find God in suffering?
• What prayer does that spark?
slowly the intimidation of
the quiet giant melted
he tended to physical and
financial matters of the meeting
I, to the spiritual and nuturance
he seemed controlled and wise,
me, all over the map, but learning by experience
and then we met in a kinda funny place:
somewhere between recognizing a creative kid for who she is
and a mother trying to regain her confidence and calling
he's been the rock, the foundation, that has freed me to
creativity and ministry
Listen to this post: http://www.turtleboxstories.com/audio/whereministrymeets.mp3
Yesterday was sandwiched between a traditional Bible study and a new women's group on astrology and archetypes. Could I have chosen anything more different? One is an ongoing study of Luke that my mother initiated in December with, mostly, retired women. I felt called to join because when else might I have the chance to do a Bible study with her? The other is lead by my wonderful and wise spiritual friend and I would sign up for anything she has to offer.
Though they seem like polar opposites, upon deeper inspection, I find they are not. Both are ways of figuring out who we are and what our purpose is. One centers on the word of God and the other, on what lessons the heavens, which God beautifully created, have for us.
Just a few months ago, I would not have envisioned myself either place.
I have struggled with the Bible, not being able to separate the rote and drilled-in meanings of Sunday School with what Scripture actually has to say directly and personally to me. I have experienced breakthroughs in practicing lectio divina (a slow and sacred reading of a brief passage) and when Conservative Friends practice an open-your-Bible-and-be-lead-somewhere study. The first two lessons of the current study actually turned me off with the amount of pure work in filling in the blanks and charts. I wondered what I was actually learning. But you know, it has stuck with me. What has been especially enriching is the perspective of each of the women. It's an eclectic, though not more diverse than Catholic and protestant, group of great faith and wisdom. When I have fallen into my old pattern of literal interpretation, they have reminded me of the beautiful metaphor and poetry of Scripture. And it has spoken deeply to me, reminding me I am called ... as we each are. It has helped me determine where, exactly, that is.
Astrology may as well be Greek to me. But, because it is so symbolic, I am drawn to this new language. Even just learning some very basics last evening and looking only at the patterns in our birth charts, I was amazed at how much I have experienced is affirmed and confirmed. For example, the arrangement of the planets at my birth creates a "splash" pattern, somewhat equally divided. My able instructor suggested it meant I was a "universal" person, a jack of all trades. She also included a description of my zodiac sign, Capricorn. The pattern and sign indicate I have may talents with a penchant for perseverance and slowly ascending to the top, a lonely trek. What it all helped me see in a very detached and clear manner is that I am often hung up on which direction to take because I am able to do differing tasks. Also, that even though I feel called to ministry, I can create a livelihood from it. That's pretty big stuff. We also learned about the meridian and hemisphere divisions. I tend toward the night, being more interior, slower to bloom and controlled by circumstance. However, I also have "daytime" planets, which means I can be extraverted, in charge of my own destiny to some extent and function in the social world. WOW.
I have been playing with all of these lessons, as well as those from last week's retreat, in figuring out my next move. I looked at potential studio/teaching space today and wonder where my ministry meets earning a living. Before today, I thought those were concepts that could not meet; even not sure they should. Today, I believe I can weave them together in creating a new life and calling, which blesses me and others.
WOW. I would not have gotten to this place without Scripture, astrology, last week's contemplative time, a lot of centering prayer, this week's activity, lots of friends and grace.
• When have diverse modes worked together to teach me?
• How do I open myself to new ideas and methods?
• What ministry may be swimming in my heart?
• How do I feed it?
• Where is my balance between ministry/retreat and vocation/work/activity?
learning about Jesus
from Luke at a long
distance from Sunday school
and in the company of
eager and wise listeners
shows me what is waiting
for me, if only I pay
attention and open
to what lies in my heart
oddly enough,
grounding that experience
is peering into the stars
to see my path, where
I've been and what choices
I now can, wisely, make
a heavenly marriage
Paul Anderson gave this message on equality as the second-to-last in North Valley Friends' Peace Month 2012 series on "SPICE: the Friends Testimonies." (We're doing them out of order!) Friends around Northwest Yearly Meeting participated in Peace Month this January. You are welcome to utilize the Peace Month resources available on the NWYM website at any time.
Paul Anderson gave this message on equality as the second-to-last in North Valley Friends' Peace Month 2012 series on "SPICE: the Friends Testimonies." (We're doing them out of order!) Friends around Northwest Yearly Meeting participated in Peace Month this January. You are welcome to utilize the Peace Month resources available on the NWYM website at any time.
We're participating in Northwest Yearly Meeting's Peace Month this month. The theme is "SPICE: the Friends Testimonies," and this week was on integrity.
The Challenge of Integrity, by Paul Bock
Listen to this post: http://www.turtleboxstories.com/audio/deathofthefalse.mp3
In a dream, I am sitting at the end of several rows of stackable chairs whispering something in God’s ear, then I slump back , clearly dead. I don’t know my exact words, but I release something and I feel the ache leave my heart.
This was a waking dream during a centering-prayer session and I literally feel the release of my heart. I know I have died, surrendering what I had been holding onto. The change is palpable.
Soon, the silence is broken by the sister signaling its end and reading the day’s selection from The Daily Reader of Contemplative Living by Thomas Keating:
"January 24
The Way to Divine Love
'Behold, I make all things new.'
– Revelation 21:5
Divine love is compassionate, tender, luminous, totally self-giving, seeking no reward, unifying everything … the experience of being loved by God enables us to accept our false self as it is, and then let go of it and journey to our true Self. The inward journey to our true Self is the way to divine love … The growing awareness of our true Self, along with the deep sense of spiritual peace and joy which flow from this experience, balances the psychic pain of the disintegrating and dying of the false self. As the motivating power of the false self diminishes, our true Self builds the 'new self' – the motivating force of divine love.
Ephesians 3:17-19
'[I pray] … that you … may have strength … to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.'"
…
|
| Wisdom imparted at the labyrinth this morning |
I am certain it can get no clearer than this for me. I am whole-heartedly searching for my true Self, casting out whatever it not truth. This dream happened yesterday and since, I have experienced the spiritual peace and joy, which balances the psychic pain of the disintegrating and dying of the false Self. I believe that is the pain lifted from my heart and it was real.
This revelation has caused me to question just about everything, including this so-called book I am pushing forward on. It feels oppressive right now. I cling to it merely for identity and to show some amount of productivity. Yes, I am called to spiritual-nurture ministry and the concept of the turtlebox [nurturing space within ourselves to welcome the divine], even teaching and facilitating it. And, maybe completing the book some day. But I think I clutch it because being a writer has provided me an identity for a long time. It’s much scarier to think of myself as a teacher, unacknowledged territory, or an artist with a message. I’ve always said art is what is in my heart. Words come from my brain. They’re easy and the way I have made my living. They buy my way into the business world. What if I want to be part of a different world? One more on the fringes and cutting edge?
Means I have to let go of what is false.
• What moments of truth have I experienced?
• What circumstances allowed them to happen?
• What of my false self was revealed?
• What of my true Self?
• Where am I currently in that dance?
ego props me up
even when I don’t realize
but that’s why it’s ego:
the auto pilot that takes over
unless I intentionally
spend time in solitude,
prayer or reflection
I don’t always have to run
off to a convent for that
regular prayer
Sundays silent worship
the deep companionship of friends
also help my true Self
emerge
Listen to this post: http://www.turtleboxstories.com/audio/synchronicityof.mp3
As I was grabbing a few things to pack for this retreat, I uncovered the Journal of [Quaker] John Woolman and decided to leave it behind as I had enough books to tote. My mother, not a Quaker, had recently been cleaning, found the copy and passed it on to me. Eventually, I thought, I’ll read it, but not on this retreat. Besides, I was heading to a convent, nowhere Quaker.
In a welcoming e-mail, Susan, the retreat director, said I’d be staying in a cabin called “Simplicity.” Perfect, I thought; sounds pretty Quaker. While scouting out my one of the seven cabins, I came across, “Hope,” “Wonder,” and “Namaste´,” before uncovering mine. Why was I assigned Simplicity? I asked myself. Surely any of the others seemed to hold more significance for me: hope in figuring out my next steps in life, wonder at spending quiet time in nature and with God, Namaste´ because I practice yoga regularly and adore that word. Of course, I always want to simplify, but that wasn’t my intention for this retreat. That’s such a mundane, everyday kind of thing. But, come to think of it, I’m not really clear what my goal is, except to get away alone and write.
As I was settling in, Susan came by and welcomed me and, as she was providing a rich and endearing history of this commune of hermitages, permanent dweller Elaine arrived, asking Susan to move her truck. We were introduced and I was drawn to look Elaine square in the eyes and hold that gaze while saying: “I was led here.” Woops, that surprised me. She had a knowing face. Our gaze broke and she was off. So was Susan and I explored outside on my own.
After a rigorous afternoon crossing creeks, pausing at the labyrinth and peeking at the other, unoccupied cabins, I headed in to grab some tea and reflection time prior to the 5:30 daily prayer in the chapel only a few steps away. This is perfect, I told myself.
I picked up a journal with entries from others who have coveted their time at this cabin and was immediately mesmerized. One kept quoting Prevallet, who had some petty insightful things to say about simplicity. I soon discovered this author penned a Quaker Pendle Hill Phamplet entitled “Reflections on Simplicity.” This writer was a nun with a wonderful theological education (Ph.D) and a year spent studying Zen Buddhism in China. She also happened to teach spirituality and Scripture during a two-year tenure at Pendle Hill, a Quaker contemplative community near Philadelphia.
I mentioned to Susan after silent prayer that I had noticed the simplicity pamphlet. “Oh, yes,” she responded. “Elaine wrote that.” The Elaine with whom I’d shared a deep moment upon arriving. The synchronicity was a little too uncomfortable. In that same conversion, I also learned that a member of my Quaker meeting, Pauletta, had just spent time here. Spooky as I had brought her book of poetry, the gift of a small-press publisher/friends who had given it to me for my birthday though we’ve never really verbalized our Pauletta connection. I’ve known these friends well before I was ever Quaker.
After prayers and before and during dinner, I dove into the book on simplicity. Eillen’s words, like her eyes, immediately reached in and grabbed me with “I listen for the decision rather than make the decision” in a discourse on basing them from your center, the place connected to God. And then she began to quote from John Woolman’s Journal. You know, the one I didn’t bring. And then I read more things that are exactly what I need to hear to discern my next steps and it really is all about simplicity.
So I am here, where I am supposed to be, savoring every moment. This is retreat.
• How have I experienced synchronicity?
• How long did it take me to connect that it was?
• How am I more open as a result?
• What’s the synchronicity of simplicity in my life?
• What is my usual mode for decision making?
only took me a year to get here
can’t even really tell you how I found it
or why I came now of all times
except that it was out of desperation
to be alone and with God and to listen
and to follow my sister Pauletta and meet my teacher Eileen, be nurtured by Susan
and let my whole being rest in the Godfulness of this time and space
Self-portrait in ink done when I was about 17
Listen to this post: http://www.turtleboxstories.com/audio/lostidentity.mp3
Express your anger, two people I love and respect have told me … more than once. I seem to chip away at it a little at a time, but there was still a locked trunk, wrapped in chains, sunken in the root of my existence. It held every incident of pain and injustice I have experienced. Locked away.
And something would seep out and I would lash out. Sometimes just by myself, sometimes, inappropriately, at others. I am not certain I understand this anger. I’ve made lists and it always goes back to not getting what I want: understanding, acknowledgment and pain preventing me from my real work.
I sat in my studio today to write in my mad journal, marked with a big green M, making that list and looking at the ink self-portrait I did of myself in high school staring at me from the ledge above my work table. I never added a face, so I was contemplating this lack of identity and equating it with all of the things that anger me. Then I began a conversation with God in my journal:
How deep does it go, God?
To your root, where it’s stuck.
How do I get it unstuck?
Give it attention, love and surrender it to me.
How, exactly?
Pretend it’s not you. Let it gently dislodge and come up through you. Do this now.
And so I did, letting screams and sobs emerge, begging, pleading with God/Jesus to take this away … without violence to my body. I’ve had enough of that. I found myself in child’s position, bowing, on my dirty studio floor and asking that this anger, this locked box, be taken from me. Then I surrendered it because something told me Imust.
I wiped the tears away, snarfed my stuffy nose into a tissue and returned to the table, staring once again at the self portrait. This time, however, the empty face revealed something else:
‘Now as I look in the mirror of my faceless self portrait, I see a blank canvas: possibilities, not anonymity or lost identity. Rather a cleaned surface, purity.”
I was able to ask God for one more thing: “I don’t want to be that same angry person. teach me the way, please.”
“I will,” was the response.
• What role, if any, does anger play in my life?
• How does it control me [if it does]?
• How can I surrender that to God?
• What is my experience of surrendering anything to God?
• What is my current prayer?
January is Peace Month in Northwest Yearly Meeting. The theme this year is "SPICE: the Friends Testimonies" (Simplicity, Peace, Integrity, Community & Equality). Here are the first two weeks of messages at North Valley Friends, on simplicity and peace.
Simplicity: Traveling Light, Lynn Holt
Tanks, Tractors & Tremblers before God: Holy Visions of Peace as Lived Out by Friends, James Tower
Listen to this post: http://www.turtleboxstories.com/audio/presentlydetached.mp3
Not only am I beginning to see my life as a metaphor, I am experiencing it that way and I wonder if this is real detachment.
This perspective of symbolism has been eeking its way in for awhile, providing crucial insight and helping me be more the observer in situations where I am too enmeshed. Now it's occurring in real time as events unfold and not merely as I look back. Take my 53rd birthday party, for example. Out of the blue, I decided I wanted (needed) a party and asked my husband and best friend. They were more than willing. And when my spouse asked whom I wanted to invite, I e-mailed him a most impromptu list. In hindsight, I recognize what a gift this was: inviting people I really wanted (and who were available and nearby as this was last-minute) and none out of obligation or responsibility.
I basked in the wonderfulness of this particular group during the party as they intermingled, some never having met before. I even remarked that it seemed like a dream because, how, otherwise, would this specific collection have come together. I was detached and able to see how each person there has brought her/her gifts to my life and the difference in me that has made. It touched deep gratitude in me as I have been nurtured in some way by each of them. Perhaps that was the nudge to request such a party.
Removing oneself from a situation and viewing it metaphorically improves context and clarity. As a trained journalist, this has been a tool I have often applied to others and situations outside my own. As a marketer, it is typically easy for me to visualize and map a path for another company. In journaling, I have learned to do it looking back on my life. And, joyfully, in the present, I am able, perhaps through grace, to use this perspective now ... sometimes.
A new group I am attending is about accompanying the dying and we are collectively discovering that learning this type of companionship is also learning how to live. I think it, too, weaves in the detachment/objectivity factor and looking for the patterns in our lives. If we can delve into the shadow [and what greater shadow is there than death?], then we can explore all parts of ourselves ... even the ones we know least and fear most.
The ah-ha moments seem to happen more frequently and on deeper levels in this observer mode.
Yesterday, for example, was my regular shamanic-counseling session. I floated in on the wave of a wonderful birthday and spilled that in reading a book on button pushers, my biggest foe is not human, but the psychological and physical trap of fibromyalgia. A passage in the book suggests that we often let our button pushers control us and BINGO, that's when the hairs stood up on my neck and I understood my feistiest controller.
So, of course, being with such a wise and loving shaman, we went deeper and I received a very important revelation, one I realize will take some time to sink in, process and open to. Afterward, when it was time for bodywork and before my therapist (lucky me that my massage therapist and shaman are one in the same!) returned, I felt a physical presence lay hands on me and then a warm, gel-like layer permeate my entire backside, causing tingling and comfort from my toes to the base of my spine, even in the palms of my hands. This was no metaphor. It was real and it was healing.
Currently, I am sit resting in this, but I sense some form of detachment led me here. I am grateful.
• When have I experienced detachment?
• Has it been a process or rare flashes?
• What role do I believe grace plays in that?
• What am I currently processing or sitting with?
• How can I nurture my own openness to detachment?
so easy to get stuck
stuck in what is right ahead
like I live with blinders on
repeating the same thing
over and over and wondering
why it's happening again
then something lifts
me above and I see
everything differently
and either the path
becomes clear or
I see a destructive pattern
that I can now mend or
an old habit I can abandon
and I am eternally
grateful
Colin Saxton gave a farewell sermon to us, his faith community for the last several years, before he left to take the job as the General Secretary of Friends United Meeting.
We miss you already, Colin!
Watch/listen on video: http://youtu.be/EA9v1pYcFWk
In a recent Bible study, I could not keep myself from asking, "What, exactly, is the Holy Spirit?" when the group sped through (well, at least I thought so) a discussion of the Trinity. You could have heard a pin drop. I had anticipated the reaction, but could not help myself. I've never really been able to understand it. I know the intellectual definition, but I want to really know this.
I refrained from also asking where the Mother was in the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Somehow, I am certain this group of experienced women has questioned that themselves.
The first response was "part of the Trinity." Which part, I wanted to know. God's Spirit, I think someone said. I explained that question had been raised several times in Quaker groups I've attended and also that Quakers believe there is that of God in everyone. That resonated with this Bible-study group. We sort of settled on the fact there are many aspects of God and this may have been a way of addressing that.
Shortly after, I began reading about the Christ. That's another concept that has been rotely drilled into me. One I wish to make my own. Is Jesus the only Christ? I have wondered. What does Christ even mean?
An enlightening comparison of Exoteric (outer expression) and Esoteric (inner teaching) Christianity that my friend and spiritual mentor gave my, compiled by the Rev. Jan Skogstrom with the Rev. Susan Hamilton, suggests those with an outer bent view Christ as one entity and those more internally focused as a human teacher and the living flame of love.
I think I have always seen the duality and, perhaps, not had to define these aspects. At a rather young age, in Sunday School, we were told to ask Jesus to come into our hearts. I did and I believe the Christ was already there. I am now certain it was the Christ Spirit that whispered in my ear that my heart was not black with sin, another early Sunday School teaching.
I love reading that in Jesus' "lost" years, other accounts and traditions document him traveling to Tibet, India and even China mastering other faiths. A several-year study of the Hindu Bhagavad Gita in a meditation group probably taught me more about my Christian beliefs than the Bible. So many teachings are universal. To me, they, too, felt infused with the Christ even though some elements were culturally and historically foreign.
In Jesus, I am finding, the mind and the heart fused and the heart became the driver. That's what I want and what I recognized during a flash while meditatively swimming today: we all have the potential to carry the Christ because that spirit is universally available. It is a living, growing presence that did not die on the cross, but, rather, was released.
Released for each of us to embody. Wow, what if we did?
• What is my spin on the Trinity?
• How has that changed, been shaped over the years?
• What do I believe about the Christ?
• What personal connection do I have to Jesus?
• Does the outer expression or inner teaching call to me?
threes are more interesting
to an artist
three flowers in an
arrangement make a better
composition than two or four
threes aren't all neat and tidy
they beg for something more,
something unseen
so the idea of a
trinity holds promise
but not when narrowly
defined
threes call for
mystery and trust
Listen to this post: http://www.turtleboxstories.com/audio/whenthehatches.mp3
So many ideas, thoughts and concepts are converging in my head, all mixed up and crying for attention. I'm uncertain where to turn first.
That's why I believe I need to retreat: either for real off by myself or, until that can happen, making a daily retreat in my studio. I feel at a crossroads and I had better make my choice with complete awareness. Part of me wants change and wants it now, no matter the choice and another piece, perhaps the wiser, says wait and do the work first. Acting now could be a reaction to so much busyness last month.
Last January, I retreated via a friend's gracious invitation to her condo in Bloomington, IN, and had a marvelous time writing like a madwoman, enjoying my own company and keeping whatever hours and rules (or lack of) that I desired. I do crave solid time to write. I have completed teaching eight chapters in my book – the entire experience was a glorious gift – and feel the strong urge to translate that into a better manuscript. I also need to plan and schedule the next eight.
Yet bigger things are calling. Like figuring out my real purpose and sacred contracts. Studying the archetypes that influence me and using other new [to me] tools, such as astrology and Scripture, to guide my discoveries and decisions about what happens next. I am just back from a wonderfully full and rich meeting with my spiritual friend/mentor/teacher. She was a whirlwind pulling various articles, charts and study guides from her poke. I needed her whirlwindedness as well as her understanding. I was able to tell her something I've only mention to my spouse, an ugly thought that seems to be driving me and robbing me all at the same time. She validated my anger and suggested I really let it out instead of letting it dribble out at times that may not be so appropriate (she also told me not to judge those). She said a rubber hose works well for expressing anger. It made me laugh and reminded me of the time a rather new writer friend and mentor told me that power tools are great for expressing frustration.
Thinking of these three (including the friend with the condo) as well as beginning to work with my archetypes has led me to see all of the wise and wonderful helpers I currently have in my life; some who even surprised me when I jotted them down. I am blessed with healers and mentors, nurturers and truth-tellers, companions and guides, sages and listeners, angels and mystical children. The list is starting to make me wonder why I want to be alone!
• Do I currently feel any need for retreat?
• How can I manage that in some form?
• Specifically, what am I being called to in such a retreat?
• What tools or others could guide me?
• Who are the current helpers in my life for which I am grateful?
in my mind,
when the hatches aren't
battened
things flap like
crazy
pulling me here
and there
when I can share
even some piece
with a trusted
helper, I see
my way a bit more
clearly
and with
gratitude
A New Year and new thoughts crowd out the pattern of itching to busy myself after a long holiday season. That's a good thing.
My family witnessed my whirlwind-organizing-and-pitching campaign over the past week. They, mostly, stayed out of my way. I have had rare weeks of good, solid sleep. As a result, I would bound out of bed ahead of anyone else and not stop until my head hit the pillow at night. I have been so productive de-junking and de-cluttering. It has felt cathartic after the stagnancy of too many festivities and obligations even though they have been trimmed out of simplicity.
But that's an old pattern. One I had better learn from or I will find myself right back down in the no-energy hole. So right now, I am in contemplation and examination mode. That also always hits after the holidays and, often, like today, when the kids get back to a routine. I want one, too, but also need space to decompress.
Today's agenda was simple: hit the pool, come home and spend some time in prayer, reading and reflection. This blog is part of that reflection. I stopped reading and journaling when I hit a BIG opening, which I will relate in a minute.
Last week, while at the library, I stumbled onto a copy of Caroline Myss' Sacred Contracts book. Though I was not specifically looking for it, it was no accident. Ever since I had a past-life, astrological report done in November, I have wanted to understand what my work/contract is. I know parts of it and have an inkling for the bigger picture, but am a bit stuck as far identifying the next step. And my worldly exposure still rears its head begging to know what it is, exactly, I am doing in a secular sense ... besides naval gazing (and parenting, living with a chronic condition, working on a book, facilitating a nurture group, etc.).
I am having a hard time putting the book down. The first thing to strike me was the idea of forgiveness. That's a recurring subject for me. I even co-facilitated a forgiveness worship that was powerful. But Myss' spin is that opting not to forgive can create unhealthy energy patterns. Wow, that sounded a powerful chord in me. She also furnishes the example of a young man frozen in inaction, a place I know well. She writes that he remembers a time before his birth and parts of his contract. That knowledge renders him unable to act. I believe I am frozen more because I am not yet ready for action.
Myss uses the Christian tradition (along with Jewish and Buddhist) in a way that captures my attention rather than diverting it. So much Christianity has become rote to me and the reason Quakerism's emphasis on the experiential resonates so deeply. I want to know God, not be told about God. But I am particularly taken with her examination of Jesus' life. I have always been drawn to Jesus: as a child and as an adult. I once had the experience of walking in his body and was so grateful for Marcus Borg's delineation between the historical Jesus and the mystical Jesus. I want to know the mystical Jesus more intimately. My past-life report also said Jesus was my model and guide. No kidding. My Myers-Briggs type is the rarest and the one many calculate Jesus would have had. Kind of makes me giggle because, at times, I feel so far removed from Jesus, but at others, so close. Myss suggests that when we become conscious of our contracts, we break away from the general (secular) mindset and that Jesus' "outsider status marked his public ministry." I often feel like an outsider.
I could bore you with more passages, but the point is, I am supposed to be reading this book as I ponder my next step in life. I screeched to a halt when I read about how Jesus released his pain and psychological suffering (often deleted from some Bibles because it makes Jesus seem too human) to God before the crucifixion. That IS my next step: to release my pain and suffering to God.
I want ALL of you.
You don't have to fix anything.
You can't.
You've given me your heart and body.
Now, give me your mind and I
will heal it. Thats been your battle.
Surrender your wonderful, but weary, mind to me.
Let Jesus be your example.
TRUST.
So, what else is there to do?
Oh yeah, forgive. That's what Jesus did from the cross.
I would be honored if you would hold me in prayer at this juncture of the journey. I don't know how to surrender that part of me, but I desperately want to.
• Where am I right now, in the new year?
• Is action calling me?
• How/where do I find space for contemplation and reflection?
• What wisdom is being offered to me?
• What is my prayer for the current leg of the journey?
my response to
obligation and too much emphasis on
ONE day or season
is to explode and/or
find peace
the explosion may come
in activity or sniping
at others I love
though it's not their fault
the remedy is the
antithesis: quiet,
prayer and reflection
in that,
wisdom opens
and I find myself
again
in the arms
of God
Listen to this post: http://www.turtleboxstories.com/audio/surrendercathy2.mp3
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