A Wild & Untamed God ...

The wildness of God - a God  untamed and unfettered.
I felt this God in the early morning as trees
        swayed and danced while
storm clouds streamed through the sky
         playing peek-a-boo with a crescent moon.
I heard this unbound God in rushing, roaring wind humming
        wild music of untamed Love.

I felt a boldly adventurous God in the storminess of weather:
 This God no more bound or restrained
    by rules and laws than weather be coerced by human hand.
 This God so audacious in It's bestowing love that we were chosen
             - we imperfect humans -
to be the vessel - the vehicle - the very organ containing
     the wildly creative Spirit of God.

Sitting bundled against the cold stormy weather, in the
music of the rushing wind I heard:

"the only thing taming Me is fear ....
   only your craving of rules for security is able to restrain Me ...
  the only power capable of fettering My creativity 
       is your fear of death.
  It is your ego's fear of mistakes,
            it's fearing of imperfection,
            it's fearing the poverty of ridicule: only your ego -
cowering behind it's need for safety - righteously demanding security
              can tame the abundant creativity of My love."


"I am fire and wind.
  I am rain and sun.  
  I consume fear as easily as flame eats wood.
  I blow away fear as easily as the breeze strips leaves from trees.
  I drench creation with healing rain ...
  I pour life giving sun upon My seeds of creation."

I do not take ... but I may remove ...
I remove all obstacles to Love."


"You cling to these obstacles:
    your ego's fear of loss,
    your ego's fear of loneliness,
    your ego's fear of poverties.
Fear makes you small ... small feels safe ... and so,
         you cling to fear ... mistaking 
         the smallness of fear for security."


"My love is fire consuming fear.
  My Spirit is wind stripping the 
      fear armoring your heart.
                   I also gave ....
I freely gave you the choice to remain small and armored ...
I gave the choice of feeling safe in your fear ...
       Freely I gave these choices,  for yes,
                 I also must receive."


"I must receive your yes ... your yes of yearning 
                ... to be ... to live as ...
  the vessel - the vehicle - the organ ... of my Spirit .
  Only say your word  .... your yes of consent ...
        that I may remove obstacles to love ..."


"Do not cling to your fear:  For I am 
    the Source of All Love and Goodness.
Love and Goodness so wild and untamed 
    they join as creative energy bringing into being
               .... begetting ....
that which is never yet been seen:
     My love and goodness within you.
     My love and goodness as you."


"Yes, I am a wild and untamed God trusting
       My Creation to only say The Word ... so I may
       be freely given into the world."

To What do You Give ....

"To what do you give your mind today?"


I read those words just a couple minutes ago. Having spent the past hour writing Christmas thank you notes ,the word 'gratitude' immediately came to mind.  The gratitude I experienced this morning was a 'muscular' form of thanksgiving.  I use the word 'muscular' because the act of sorting through note cards, choosing who is to receive which, deliberately thinking of not only the gift I received but the activity involved in gifting and then writing, addressing and stamping the cards involved the 'work' of my muscles - my thanksgiving was a physical response just as the gifting to me had been a physical activity.


As I wrote each note I became aware of the 'wholeness' involved in gifting.  The gifts I was given this Christmas were not 'things' but more importantly, they were the energies of each person who put time and effort into thinking of who I am and who I am to their life and then chose to acknowledge that reality.  This was the gift I was aware of early this morning when I wrote the notes.


The physical act of writing my thank yous actually re-gifted me for I was made aware - again - of the wonder of each relationship - of the wonder of a person pondering how to gift me - the wonder of choosing an expression of their deliberation and then offering a gift of their time and energy: their mind and heart to me.


Gratitude is a short cut to wonder and wonder is the entrance: a doorway, to experiencing life as astonishing, amazing, delightful and  wondrous. The moments of wonder available during a day are just that - moments - and what I became aware of this morning was my ability to experience these moments - these quick flashes of time - is completely dependent upon "what I have given my mind to."


I was not planning on blogging today as I had felt the urgings to get the thank you notes in the mail and so had devoted my time to that experience and besides, I had said at the end of yesterday's blog that the next few bloggings would be devoted to the second chapter of the Christmas story which is the journey of the Magi.  Yet, as I think on my experience this morning of 'muscular' gratitude and of the words at the top of this page "what do you give your mind to today?'" I am aware that that question is the beginning place of the journey of the Magi.  


Each of the journeyers gave their mind to believing their life had a distinct and unique purpose.  Because of this belief, each devoted their life to the study and work of developing their mind so they would see the star when it appeared.  What we give our mind to, is what we will see.




  

The Dancing Flower

As I write this my happy flower is waving it's arms - leaves - up and down and it's head - the bloom - is waving back and forth.  The happy flower was a birthday gift.  It is a bright pink plastic flower sitting in an orange pot and when placed where the light of the sun is able to provide enough warmth, it begins to 'dance.'

Happy flower not only amuses me and brings a smile to my face, it is also a reminder to me of what I believe to be one of the great truths of living: when we place ourselves so that the warmth of the Light is able to penetrate into our Being - we are happy.  Like all great truths of living however it is up to each of us to discover how to place our Being so we might experience the warmth of Light.

We have just experienced the great feast or celebration of Christmas which from a mythological viewpoint is  an outgrowth of the pagan feast of Lights where the lengthening of the light of each day now began {with the Winter Solstice}and the earth would again absorb the warmth of light and therefore produce what was needed to sustain life.  The Christian celebration of Christmas joined to this ancient belief the newer idea that the birth of Jesus was the 'coming' of the Light: the personalization of God's goodness and love, in human form.  The birth of Jesus is the beginning of what Christians refer to as The New Testament or a new way of living.

Within the bible are two distinct ways of living: fear or love.  The Old Testament is a collection of books telling stories of people trying to discover not only who or what God was, but who or what they were in relationship with God.  Stories in the Old Testament show us - human beings - almost, but not quite understanding the experience of relating with God.  As a people within these stories we establish rules, break rules and try new rules. When the 'rules' don't work, the stories show us establishing 'laws' carefully laying out right and wrong: good and bad and ultimately describe a God who is generally disappointed and frequently angry with our human attempts at living. Relating to someone, whether the someone is a human or a god, that is disappointed and angry with us always leads to living out of fear.

Fear tightens our 'being' into a tightly bound experience of 'waiting for the other shoe to drop' and so, it's really, really difficult to experience happiness while living from fear.  And, if in fact, we humans are designed to be the creative carriers of God's love and goodness, then living in fear is a lousy way of living because creativity just doesn't happen when we are bound by fear.

I always picture God {yes, I know I can't really picture God because God is not a singular entity, but being human, it's my nature to try for an image and so I'll just use these very inadequate human words} as sitting up in the heavens, sighing deeply and saying:"they just don't get it.  I thought by putting my love into the DNA of their being, they would understand that it is love that is the energy for living."  And then, I picture this God sighing ever more deeply, "I'm not sure what to do.  I've sent fire and flood - prophets and manna - and they just don't get it."


"I know what to do!  I'll send someone just like themselves - human in every way there is but I'll add one more bit of creation: this person will remember.  They will remember being created to love.  Not simply feel love, this person will remember how to live out of my love so they are living love."


And so, it seems to me anyway, the world was given a new way of living: Jesus came to show us how to live like my happy flower that waves and dances by absorbing the warmth of the Light. But being quite human, we have also been given the option of using our choices for living to discover the Light and to discover the particular and unique ways each one of us absorbs and then responds to the warmth of the Light. One of my favorite sayings is God made people because God loves stories and so it seems that God gave us lots and lots of stories not only to keep God entertained, but because people seem to learn best from stories.

Chapter two of the Christmas story is just one such story of discovering and responding to light and this is the story of the Three Wise Men or the Story of the Three Kings who followed a star: the Epiphany story of the journey of  responding to the Light and therefore being able to bring their gifts to the newly born child. Without hearing, that is stopping and absorbing the story, this particular chapter of the Christmas story, it is very easy to forget that Christmas is about your and my living today. The Epiphany journey is the next step of living a story of birthing God's love into our world today.

The Epiphany story - from my point of view anyway - is also the story of becoming a happy flower - a Being who absorbs the warmth of Light and lives dancing from the gifts evoked by the warmth of this Light. I hope you join me as I share the story of following a star.

the journey

It is very early today on this eve of Christmas.  I need to be at the store an hour earlier today as the retail world wants to give everyone as much time as possible to purchase Christmas.  This reality is one of the oddities of my life as I manage the little holiday store helping people 'purchase' Christmas knowing full well that Christmas cannot be purchased.  Christmas is an experience of living that one journeys to and then with.

Within the Christmas story we know so well, on this eve of birth, Mary and Joseph are still journeying to Bethlehem.  For Mary and Joseph, on this eve of birthing, their story is being lived and so,as yet in the early morning light, there are no angels or shepherds or furry animals giving warmth to a cold desert stable as they awaken and begin a new day.  For Mary and Joseph, just like you and I,  have awakened to a brand new day that has a destination and yet is completely unknown.  What I have always suspected as I pondered this part of the Christmas story is that what is within their day today is discomfort - again, I point out that sitting on a donkey the day of giving birth strikes me as extraordinarily uncomfortable - and hope: their destination is finally very near - and concern especially for Joseph as he must be filled with concern for Mary and where and how they will find shelter.  And so, what I experience within this day of the eve of Christmas. is a story of living not much different than your or my living of our story.

This day - this Eve of Christmas - is for me the day of remembering the point of what most of us have been doing since Thanksgiving when we turned our living upside down in preparation for celebrating this season of Christmas is to remember - take the time to ponder - that our story is about being on a journey.

To journey means to undertake an expedition: to travel toward a purpose.  Our living - like the living of Mary and Joseph - is a story of moving through one's days with the intention of birthing the purpose of our lives.  Because the story of Mary and Joseph is both old and well known we forget that they did not know or understand their story any better than we understand our story.  Yes, they birthed Jesus into the world but their real story is actually one we tend to forget because it is such a common story:  they raised Jesus from infancy into adulthood.  Their real story of living is actually not told anymore than ours is told because, I suspect anyway, it looked rather ordinary.  Their real story is a story the of responding to the gift they were given by nurturing, nourishing, sustaining and therefore responding to a child so this unique child - over many, many years - could develop into his own call and purpose.

Christmas, as I experience Christmas, is a reminder that our call is to birth and respond to the unique child within our self.  This unique 'child' is the Light: the seeds: the gifts of God within your and my unique Being.

Like Mary and Joseph we are born - I believe - to manifest the glory of God in human form.  And being able to manifest each of our own unique Light of God, manifest to make palpably evident is a journey of days and weeks and years.

The Christmas story we hear each year reminds us that our journey of manifesting our particular unique Light to the world is a story of odd twists and turns.  Each of our stories is a 'plot' containing unexpected happenings that may in turn appear tragic or comic or simply absurd ... you will at times look ridiculous ... you will at times feel foolish ... you will undergo periods of confusion and doubt that allow new insight to be born ... you will be told 'no' when your are exhausted and on the verge of birthing ... you will also be gifted with the unexpected kindness of friends and strangers ... there will be angels along the way guiding, whispering and heralding ... you will know unexpected grace shining like a star in the blackness of night ... you will have someone to assure you that your truth is 'full of grace' while other laugh at you (or 'tsk' behind your back) ... and if you are able to be mindful of your living, you will indeed be gifted with Magi bearing not only treasures, but the assurance of 'naming' the journey you have been on.  The 'true' Christmas story is not simply birth - the Christmas story is one of living an extraordinary purpose midst the ordinariness of life.

The Christmas story is the awareness that we - each of our living - proclaims that God so loved the world that ..... yes, it is true .... God so loved the world, God sent you as God's preciously unique gift of Light to shine love into the world. 

Creation continues

Yesterday while filling out some paperwork at the store I was shocked to discover I was writing the number 22.  Yesterday was the 22nd of December and so, rather obviously, this is the 23rd which means Christmas is only two days away.  And then, just as I was getting my head around the idea of only two days until Christmas and trying to combine that reality with what is left on my to-do list, I received a call from the person who is in charge of the temporary holiday stores.  "Your voice sounds like you're coming down with something." "No, I'm just tired" I replied.  "Well, it's almost over and we can go back to normal life" he said.  We chatted about the fact that the store has begun it's selling down process toward closing in early January and then I went back to responding to both the tasks of the store and the customers.

The store is nutty these days - it is just a couple days to Christmas - and so I didn't think again about the phone call.  Until last night when I pulled out the Advent meditations I have been reading and I understood why after the phone call I felt 'on tilt' even though I had not time to process what I was feeling.  I was 'on tilt' because deep in my heart what I know is that the point of Christmas is to remind us to not return to life as it was.  Oh sure, the hullabaloo will be over, but then again the hullabaloo is not the point of the Christmas story.  And for that matter, what I deeply believe - and why I was on tilt - is that Christmas isn't about celebrating what occurred two thousand years ago.  Christmas occurs over and over again with the birth of each and every human person who is born - a bit of God placed in the human Being so that creation may continue.  "I am the organ through which Spirit executes It's will and creative power."  


I took those words penned by Ralph Waldo Emerson as mine three years ago.  By 'taking them as mine' I mean that I engaged the meaning of the words - over and over in my journals, in the lighting of candles of intention and in meditation on my patio - until they became my path for living: the Spirit of God continues to create anew each day through each and every person - the 'work' of creating continues as the Spirit evokes - stirs into being - the gifts within myself.  God - or the Source of All Being - however you prefer to refer to the great Energy of All  begetting and becoming did not 'complete' creation in seven days: God began creation - and it is we who continue the becoming of what God began.

A really concise definition of 'creation' is to make or bring about.  The really short definition of 'continue' is to carry on: to proceed.  And to 'become' is to come into: to transform, evolve, grow and develop.  And so for creation to continue I cannot 'return' to what was no matter how comfortable or familiar or how much I loved what 'was' - to become or evolve and grow I must be willing to continue to move forward into what is not known.

The fullness of the Christmas story we tell is not yet known because creation continues each and every day with how I engage the gift of living I have been given.  And yesterday, when I felt 'on tilt' I was reminded that in order to make the gift of the story of Christmas real in my life I needed the quiet of last evening and early this morning to ask myself what is this story of creation that God began?  What am I being asked to carry on and bring about?  The answer is so simple that its simplicity is terrifying: I am asked to 'birth' God's love into the world through this imperfect - yet gifted - human vessel named Mary.  I am asked, to do the 'work' of discovering, engaging, using and therefore offering the gifts of myself to the world - no matter how imperfect I may perceive myself. I am asked to believe that if I am willing to live the same story as the characters of the Christmas story we tell, then creation will continue today in my life.

Creation continues when I am willing to be Mary and say 'yes' to that which disrupts my idea of who I am.  Creation continues when I am willing to be Joseph and struggle with the confusion of exploring what my role is in relation to the other people in my life.  Creation continues when I am willing to be Elizabeth and conceive, birth and sustain new life when I am 'past the time of conceiving.'  Creation continues when I am willing to offer strangers the best of what I have even though it may appear shabby.  Creation continues when I am willing to respond to angels telling me that I must leave what I was doing in order to carry a message whose meaning I may not fully understand. Creation continues when I, like the kings, am willing to leave the security of status and position in order to answer a call to not only bring and offer my gifts to newly born life, but also to bring the gift of reassurance - of naming - what has occurred.

As I finish writing my favorite words of this season are streaming through my mind: This is the Season when love bloomed bright and wild.  Had Mary been full of reason, there'd have been no room for the child.  We participate in the continuing of God's creation when we say 'yes' to the irrationality of love - the irrationality of love as it is today in my life.  In my life - in your life - is the love of God ready to be birthed into the world.

Strings of Lights

Early this morning while it was still dark I walked to my mailbox and was gifted with the sight of strings of lights shining in the darkness.  I have always loved Christmas lights: the colorful big bulbs, the tiny twinkling white or colored lights: simple symbols of joy strung during this season with a kind of wild abandon..

Last evening as I lit candles in preparation for welcoming my sisters - except for Roie who is unfortunately out of town this year - to my home for our Christmas sister's evening, I was particularly aware of the symbolism of Light as yesterday was the Winter Solstice.  Through much of human-time the Winter Solstice was a day of important significance and extravagant celebration as that date heralded the return of the Light: when light would lengthen each day and the warmth of sun could again bring forth life from the earth.

I was musing on the importance the concept of light is to human beings - how we know instinctively that without light, life is barren and so the 'sun' has been worshiped by most cultures - except of course, here in Arizona where for several months of the year we have a tendency to curse it and pray for the appearance of even thin layers of cloud!  Even so, at the core of our extravagant celebration of Christmas is the awareness that we celebrate Light being born: God incarnate - living - within human form.

Yet, we also forget that this was not a one-time event: God lives within each of us: each human person is the vessel - the carrier of God's of Light - and yet, almost none of us celebrate this reality instead often concentrating on our human imperfection and weakness.  I want to share now one of my favorite writings by Marianne Williamson which speaks of this human flaw: our reluctance to embrace the reality of who we really are.

"Our worst fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves: 'Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous,
talented and fabulous?'
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world.
There is noting enlightened about shrinking so that
other people won't feel insecure.
We are born to make manifest the glory of God within us.
It is not just in some of us.
It is within each of us - it is within everyone.
And, as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously
give other people permission to do the same.
We are liberated from our own fear, and
our presence automatically liberates others."

Blessings and the joy of being a carrier of the Light to each of you.

Love is messy ....

The dictionary defines 'mess' as an untidy state.  Thank you dictionary for succinctly describing my workroom where boxes and rolls of wrapping paper as well as wrapped and unwrapped gifts are scattered over every flat surface.  Messy would also be an accurate description these days of my schedule full of tasks, my kitchen where cookies and treats are being created and to an extent my finances as holiday preparations have burgeoned - I love that word as it evokes an image of something rapidly growing; expanding so quickly that all that was around it is moved into a new position.  And all this messy living is because of love.  Whether you celebrate Christmas as a religious feast or a cultural event, at the core of this season is a simple message: celebrate love.


Christmas love is not at all tidy.  Christmas love is not romantic infatuation.  Christmas love is so big at the core that to experience what this is all about, the story tells us to stop ... now how exactly am I supposed to 'stop' when I just described a life burgeoning with preparations! ... but that is what the story tells us: stop.  Stand still ... or better yet, sit still ... and hear the angels singing ... for love; love was born ...


That is the message I heard - yes, angels still whisper to us today - last night as I wrapped and sorted and wrapped some more - there is so much to do because I have been given so much love in my life.  Christmas is the season where all my to-do lists have one very important message:  I have been inordinately blessed with love: love that is not a feeling but a wondrous web of people and experiences that keeps growing and expanding.

My Christmas will be a different experience this year because love has expanded. my web of life. My eldest son will not be with us for Christmas Eve and Christmas morning as he will be out of town with his girlfriend spending the days with her family.  His experience of love has expanded his life as well as mine.  The love that came into his life with Andrea also brought Andrea into mine - what a glorious gift she is.  And their love has added more people to my life for caring about and enjoying. When I met her mother I felt as though life was introducing me to a sister I had not yet met!  What a gift.

The 'burgeoning' quality of love that expands our life and pushes what we are accustomed to into a new place so life might be experienced with 'newness' is very, very real to me this year.  This awareness of the wonder of Love's capacity to expand life - to create mess in the tidiness of our known routine - is where I find the 'stillness' I need in order to accomplish the tasks of this season.

I learned a long time ago that gratitude is a short cut to wonder.  When I am able to deliberately breathe 'thank you' in and out while engaging my tasks, then I experience the 'still point' of life: that all of this 'upside down' experience of living is because of love.  My workroom, my kitchen, my schedule and my finances are all a bit messy because love has grown and multiplied into an exquisite web of people and their Being is a gift to my life. And when I am able to stay with my thank yous I become aware that this web of love is pure gift to me.  All I have needed to do in order to enjoy all this messy blessing is be open to receiving and then be willing to engage what I have been given..

And so I do engage: I ponder over the gifts; I select and purchase; I sort and wrap; I choose ingredients and bake and then plan the menus go to the grocery and then cook.  All these 'tasks' are a concrete means for engaging the wondrous gift of love given to me.  Given.  That is the true message of Christmas: we are given love.  We do nothing to earn this love - our only part is to respond to what is bestowed upon us: to receive  and engage what weare given.   

The boxes and rolls of wrapping paper, the bits of tape and the ribbons and bows and the various gifts for people really have only one message: I have been gifted with an experience of love that is so real it is able to make 'a mess' of the tidiness of my life.

The amaryllis is FINALLY growing

Every year for my birthday I ask for an amaryllis bulb.  An amaryllis is known not only for it's outrageously gorgeous bloom at the end of a long stalk but also for how quickly the stalk grows.  Watching the stalk is probably my favorite part of having an amaryllis as sometimes it seems as though it is literally growing in front of my eyes.  In terms of a plant that is able to provide almost instant gratification of growth from a bulb to bloom it's really difficult to beat an amaryllis.  Until this year.

I read the directions.  And followed them.  I'm not noted for reading and following directions and so when I actually put forth that kind of energy my expectation of gratification only intensifies - there's nothing like a sense of virtuousness to up the ante of expected reward!  Anyway, I did my part - virtuously I might add - and it did not do it's part.  When I say 'do it's part' what I really mean is that it did not immediately fulfill my expectations, which is to say that nothing happened.  Nothing at all - no little green shoot popping out of the bulb - nothing.  Each morning I peered at it, each evening I came home from work and peered again - I suppose figuring that if I had been working it could have at least put forth a bit of effort.  Nothing.  I even took to rubbing my finger across the top edge thinking maybe my eyes weren't seeing what was supposed to be happening.  Nothing.  Day after day, nada.  I checked the soil's dampness.  I checked the amount of light it was getting where I had placed the really pretty red pot.  At least the pretty pot had a bit of cheer.

I began thinking of throwing it away {but keeping the pretty pot} because I remembered a shelf of amaryllis kits I had seen for sale and some of them actually had stalks sneaking out of the packaging.  No care of those bulbs had been provided, they were just growing already - I deserved one of those.

The pretty pot sits where my altar candles are and so as I was lighting the candles of thanksgiving the other morning I became aware of my bulb - which had remained just a bulb - and my annoyance began to simmer and I felt the words have patience flow through me.  It was the phrasing of the words that got my attention: "have" patience rather than the admonition I had heard most of my life, 'be' patience.  Reflecting on the word 'have' I sat down and pulled out my dictionary.

Looking up words in the dictionary and then creating word 'pictures' by playing with aspects of the definition and its defining words is not only what some might call a hobby of mine, but it's actually what I do as a clarifying activity for understanding.  "Have" means to own and once owned, to be able to put to use.  So what I was hearing was to put to use my 'patience' ability.  Patience is an emotionally 'loaded' word because I'm not alone in having heard it for much of my life as something to 'be' which indicating something I was clearly lacking at that time. Backing off from my emotional response by creating a word picture of it's various definitions I made an interesting discovery: the core meaning of patience is a kind of bravery.


Patience can be perceived as bravery because having patience means the ability to restrain oneself from losing control due to emotion. Patient as a quality, indicates having diligence in putting forth effort and care.  Patience therefore means to use ones the quality restraint to remain within bounds while caring and putting forth effort.  As I played creating my word picture I had the funniest experience of hearing my father's famous phrase: stop and think.  Stop and think is in many ways what having patience is all about.

When I stopped and thought about my bulb what I realized was that 'restraining' myself meant to refocus.  Refocus on the bulb rather than what I wanted from the bulb.  Really, the point of growing an amaryllis is IT not me.  Dah!!  Have patience Mary, the bulb is doing what it needs to do: it's absorbing the moisture from the soil and absorbing the warmth of the sun and when it has what it needs of those, what is in the bulb will be activated.  Oh yeah, it's about what the bulb is doing, not just what I want.  My part is simply to - another part of the definition of patience - provide the effort and care: water and position for sunlight, and then allow it - trust - that it will grow in it's time.

And it is growing.  A little green 'tongue' is peeking out of the papery brown edge of the bulb and in time the tongue will become a stalk.

As I worked with my word picture about patience and starred at my brown bulb, the imagery of 'life' growth expanded and I was aware of how amaryllis bulbs and parts of myself are so very similar: there are parts of me that like the kits I saw in the store with stalks sneaking through the top of their package seem to grow easily - as though not much can restrain their becoming.  But the bulb I have this year has reminded me that there are other parts of self that require patience: diligence of effort and care, the restraint of refocusing and the bravery of faith to stay: to not give up or run away or give into the emotions of frustration and despair.

I am reminded of that old, old saying faith is belief in things not yet seen.  Within the bulb IS the stalk. Within my self IS the Spirit activating parts of me not yet seen.  Have patience and in time there will be a glorious bloom atop a stalk that was once a simple brown bulb:  Thank you Spirit for the reminder to use what I have, thanks Dad for reminding me to stop and think.

love is such a big word

This will truly be a quick one!  Was sitting here this morning and time got away from me because my meditating time took a new form ... love how the Spirit is able to work when my brain has not yet come fully awake.

Looking at my little tree and beautiful nativity scene, I was meditating on love and became aware of what a HUGE word love is and how sometimes reflecting on this little four letter word can 'feel' as though I have this humungus blob of jello sitting in my hands!  This blob of love-jello was my awareness of how many magnificent forms of love I have had in my life as well as, as all we humans have had, of all the different experiences of confusions, hurts and anxieties that are also a part of the experience of loving.

So, I was sitting here in the quiet of the morning with my huge shimmering blob of love, speckled with faces, places, times of living and experiences in my lap.  I was also aware as I sat with a lap of love-jello, that Source of Love was the 'substance' holding all my experiences together into this big wobbly blob . Got to tell you that this love-jello image was a little odd for so early in the morning but just as I was beginning to wonder about it,  the words of Meister Eckhart flowed through my mind: "if the only prayer you ever pray is thank you, that is enough."  And I began to breathe those two little words.

In and out, slowly and deliberately I breathed  the words thank you, over and over and they began to flow through me.  My body began to relax.  My brain began to feel a subtle glow as thank you flowed in and out of my breath.  The word 'love' - that big blob of my experiences of living that had been sitting in my lap - became both very large and very small in the form of the words 'thank you.'  As I continued to breathe those two little words, one by one persons I love came into my mind.  Each by each I felt 'love' simply as thank you for the fact of their existence in my life.  As faces came into view and I breathed those two words in and out with my breath and I felt new words form from the simple thank you: thank you for the beauty of You and your love within ________.  Thank you for Your vision of beauty forming as the unique self, the unique Being of _____________.  One after another faces appeared and slowly as I breathed the words thank you with each, I saw their Being as a glorious crystal - a snowflake of uniqueness shimmering with the Beauty of the Source of Love within each.

This experience of deliberate 'thinking' thank you lasted only about ten minutes or so yet when I finished {it just sort of finished itself actually} I simply sat completely relaxed.  And then I began thinking about being committed to writing the blog and then I looked at the clock and the minutes had ticked away - how can this be! I felt, and began to wonder how I would accomplish my commitment within the time I had left.  And then it hit me: just say thank you for your commitment and see what happens.

What you have just read is what happened as my response to glancing at the clock.  I just now looked at the clock again and I'm fine in terms of having enough time to eat a bit of breakfast and wander through the process of getting ready and then be to work on time.  And so I just had another thought; maybe the answer to our very human cry of 'how can this be?!?' is very simply those two little words, thank you.  Maybe Meister Eckhart's words contain a very powerful truth; that our faith; our  trust that there is a Great Energy of Love and Creation within each and all  is best expressed by a simple thank you.  Maybe thank you is the way I am able to express appreciation for this God of Love within all of life while simultaneous reassuring myself that this energy of love is at work even when I do not understand what is happening.

Maybe Meister Eckhart was telling us that love, that humungus word of feelings and experiences, can be best expressed - and lived - by those two little words: Thank You.

how can this be .....

I was reading an Advent meditation book and this little story was shared:
"The late Dr. Halford Luccock bumped into a woman one day during
      the crowded confusion of Christmas shopping.  Her packages went tumbling
      and Dr. Luccock bent to help her pick them up apologizing earnestly.
      The woman looked at him with irritation and frustration answering
       his apologies with, "it doesn't matter, I hate Christmas anyhow - it just
       turns everything upside down!"
       Dr. Luccock paused and replied, "that is just what it was made for."


Christmas turns everything upside down!   On the surface of living, we are all aware of that reality as we decorate, shop, write cards, mail packages, shop some more, give and attend parties, cook and bake.  For most of us the holidays are about adding an absurd number of new and different tasks to our normal to-do lists and often the sheer amount of added activity is overwhelming: it turns our accustomed ways of living upside down.

As I put down the Advent book last evening with the little story I just shared, I was thinking about the original Christmas story and Dr. Luccock's words really hit home because everyone in the story had their life 'turned upside down.'
      Mary changed from a maiden, a 'good girl' from all accounts who was planning to be married, to a    
      pregnant woman who was not yet married.
      Joseph changed from a man planning a marriage to Mary and quite probably thinking of beginning "their"
      family, to a man wrestling with 'what really happened and what role am I to play?
      Elizabeth was 'past the time of bearing children' and so most likely was stunned by the idea that she would
      birth and raise a child in the second half of her life.
      Zechariah {whom we often forget about}, was married to Elizabeth and according to the story was a
      'good and upright man' who was struck mute by his disbelief that Elizabeth could indeed be pregnant and
      remained that way until he was willing to have faith in the truth of what was.
      Shepherds, whom I think of as the epitome of we ordinary folk in this story, were minding their sheep and
      their own business {thank you very much!} when they are told to leave their responsibilities and take
      tidings of joy to a poor family in a stable who had just birthed Jesus the Lord.
      And then there was the inn keeper, the one who said yes to their request for shelter even though his
      yes meant offering something that outwardly appeared poor and shabby

As I was pondering this last night with feet that throbbed because of the arthritis in my ankles which do not appreciate eight hours on concrete and a head that was very, very tired from having lived through my second - yes, that would be two! - corporate visits in a week, it felt very good to be reminded that the story we are remembering during this holiday season is a story of hospitality to the question 'how can this be?!?"

Reading last night I was reminded that this is the season where I am asked to take time - that is to be hospitable to - my own cries of 'how can this be?"  Last evening as I sat with my little tree glowing and thought about this story, it hit me that during the decades of my living, I have in fact played all of the parts in the drama of the original Christmas story.  I know the experience of being asked to receive a 'gift' from God that turned my idea of who I was upside down.  I have experienced the dilemma of 'what really happened and how am I supposed to respond' and then had my response turn my life upside down.  I also have 'birthed' new life when I thought I was finished and in fact have discovered that this second half of living is about birthing 'spirit babies' and that awareness turned my life upside down.  I know about leaving 'responsibilities' to carry a message that made no sense to my brain and yet my gut told me this was the right action and it turned my life upside down.  I know about having to offer a part of myself that appears poor and shabby and not as splendid as I would wish because that was all I had to offer at the time, and my yes turned my idea of who I was upside down.

And each and every time I was able to give my own 'yes' to playing one of the roles in this story, a part of myself cried out, "how can this be!"  What I also know is that my 'how can this be?' is no different than any of your own cries of confusion, for as I meditate on this story we celebrate each year, I believe it is given to us as a template: a guide or mold, of what our living is to be if we are willing: open and receptive, that is, hospitable to carrying God into the world.  As Dr. Luccock words remind us, the Christmas story tells us that living is not meant to be 'known' or 'understood' in the ways we humans who crave security and safety would like our living to be.

I believe the Christmas story reminds us that real living is about the creativity available to us when we are willing to be hospitable to the energy of our Creator who has apparently designed human beings to be the carriers of the energy of Creation into the world.  This is not an easy willingness.  I doubt it was easy for Mary to say yes to being the mother of Jesus, or for Joseph to redefine his role, or for Elizabeth and Zechariah to accept the changes to their life when they were in a time when life was supposed to get easier not more difficult or for an inn keeper to swallow their pride and offer a stable rather than a room or for shepherds who were defined in life by their simplicity of responsibility to leave their responsibility. Each person's  life and idea of who they were was turned upside down and redefined by hospitality to angels, a dream, the hand of God on their shoulder or a knock on the door.

Maybe what I am supposed to be aware of today as I head into my little store is not the expectations of corporate or the throbbing in my ankles but perhaps to entertain the idea that maybe one of my customers disguised as a person,  is actually an angel, or is someone in need of  the 'shelter' of a genuine smile and offer of help in choosing a book.  I think today I will live the Christmas story not as a retail manager but as someone who understands that Christmas is about having one's life turned upside down and that a simple smile can go a long way in easing the anxiety of our silent cry of 'how can this be.'


      

"Oh holy night, the stars ..

Lines from Christmas songs tend to get stuck in my head and loop around over and over.  Yesterday it was 'oh holy night, the stars are brightly shining, it is the night when ...', over and over it went as a couplet playing in the background of my day. The interesting thing about having just a few words of music playing in my mind is that after a while I find they have squiggled deeper and pushed up other thoughts and so a favorite quote from Matthew Fox appeared, "holiness is cosmic hospitality.'


Holiness is hospitality; welcoming and greeting.  According to the words of the song then, on that night, something was welcomed and greeted and became holy.  Right now, a flame is shimmering within the little nativity setting on my armoir: an angel, Mary, Joseph and a crib.  It's easy to understand the angel as holy and what will fill the crib we know to be holy and because of the story we tell, we also call Mary and Joseph and all the other members of the Christmas story: Elizabeth, shepherds, inn keepers and kings holy.  And yet, sitting here in my living room I am aware that Mary, Joseph and Elizabeth; the shepherds and even the kings were, within the living of their lives, ordinary people.  Ordinary folk like you and I going about living and yet we call them holy.  Why?  And, more importantly, why do we not call ourselves holy?

I believe we call them holy because we know their story as completed and because it is 'complete', that is seen in it's totality, it appears tidy and perfect as though somehow they did everything 'right.'  Our own story on the other hand, is not yet complete and, if yours is anything like mine, it is full of contradictions, imperfections, confusions and mistakes and is therefore, far from tidy.

I think we tend to define 'holiness' as tidy perfection.  But I suspect that in the reality of their living, Mary, Joseph, Elizabeth and everyone else were probably pretty human and ordinary and therefore they, like us, were prone to mistakes and confusions like all 'real' people.  I sincerely doubt they perceived their lives as 'perfect' while they were living their lives. It's just a hunch of mine but I suspect that since they also were human like you and I, they also made mistakes living their lives.  I would suppose that being human, their developmental process was like the rest of we humans which is to say that as part of  learning, they messed up, tried again and eventually experienced some insight and wisdom and then repeated the cycle of learning with mistakes and successes just like people do.  What I also suspect is that the element of their story that is holiness, is exactly what Matthew Fox referred to: their hospitality to living - to all the parts of their living.

I would guess that one reason we tell their story is they were also hospitable to their mistakes - hospitable to their weaknesses - hospitable to where they failed.  Don't misunderstand me, I also suspect that like the rest of us they did not necessarily enjoy failing or feeling weak, but they were most likely not perfectionists and therefore had no need to blame other people or deny their own humanness.  I say this because clearly from the story we tell, each of these people had a very high degree of receptivity - of hospitality - to Life and we cannot be receptive like that unless we are open to the wholeness of our story.  Wholeness: the totality of living.  Wholeness is holiness.  And holiness and wholeness within the lives of real people contains weakness and confusion, failures and mistakes as well as the moments of joy found in holy nights and mornings.

"Oh holy night, the stars are brightly shining, it is the night when ..."  That was the night when Life became holy because Life was welcomed and greeted.  We make life holy by our willingness to be receptive - open and welcoming - to what Life offers us.  We are holy for we carry God within ourselves and when we know this and we therefore welcome and greet the God within ourselves and within each other - despite the quite imperfect human form - we create holiness.

Thinking on all of this I know that in my life the people I admire the most and enjoy being with are the ones who own the 'wholeness' of their living: the doubts and knowings, fears and weaknesses, adventures with wrong turns, backtracking and discovery; joys and delights, dreams and the stumbling journeys to fulfilling dreams.  These are the people I am able to learn from.  These are the people who I am willing to be open with and share my real self with.  These are people I know to be holy.

This isn't just my idea, Rabbi Abraham Heschel put this idea in far fewer words: "Just to be is a blessing. Just to live is holy."  May you be blessed with the blessings found in hospitality to the holiness of your life.

Incarnate: placed in human form and realized

Outside it is still dark and the twenty-two flickering flames create both light and shadow on my walls. Across the bookcase, over the television armoir and then onto the other bookcase are jar candles and tea lights each holding a flame lit with intention, gratitude and hope; each bit of light making what is within me alive and deliberately present in life as my words were spoken and the match touched the wick.

Thank you for creating us to carry Your light and love into the world.
Thank you for the privilege of bringing three new souls into life.
Thank you for being with David and Adam and Luke and guiding them in this day.
Thank you for Steve being part of my life in the creation of these souls; Beings of uniqueness and gift for Life.
Thank you for guiding me in being a mother during this time of life.

Thank you for the friends and companions you have sent to me.  
Thank you for my family; the soil of life my Being grew in; thank you for Mom and Dad;thank you for my brothers and sisters.
Thank you for wondering eyes to see the blessings you place in my life today.
Thank you for wondering eyes to see your beauty in all that is living.

Thank you for male and female energies that emerged from You; the source of All life.
Thank you for new life created as Your energies flow through each of us.
Thank you for the creative transformation of my Being; the evoking, development and strengthening of my gifts to be offered to the world. Thank you for the courage to be who you created me to be through the use of my gifts.
Thank you for the generosity that enabled this special time of growing these past two years.

Thank you for 'I don't know' as my response to confusions; words that create space allowing your Spirit to flow and create new understanding within me.
Thank you for the artists of Living; past and present who have had the courage to be vulnerable and share their gifts that we might be encouraged and strengthened by words and all forms of art.
Thank you for providing all that I need with a gracious plenty: all that I need today is given to me for enjoying and participating in the fullness of life, for this knowing I give deep thanks.

And then the final candle that shines behind the nativity scene; an heirloom from my mother: thank you for this Season of deliberate remembering that You are indeed incarnate: embodied in human form.
Thank you for placing within me the knowing that You are incarnate, not just in Jesus, but in me: in each and every person who lives; thank you for giving me eyes of wonder to see Your Beauty in each person I meet today.

Incarnate: placed in human form and realized. "The word of God was made flesh and dwelt among us."  The word of God is made flesh and dwells among us and is realized.  Realized: present as real.  The Word of God is present and real today within each of us: each of us carries the Word of God as our personal and unique energy for Living.

And, what is the Word of God?  Love. "Love one another as I have loved you."  Jesus came and showed us what "love" as the Word of God means for energy of living. Jesus taught us love as kindness, nobility, generosity, benevolence, understanding, compassion, creative transformation, forgiveness, faith in what is not yet seen and willingness to be present to the companions God gives us.

The flames are still flickering as I end this writing.  They flicker, reminding me that my words of intention create presence in Life; they mean that this Spirit of Life is realized, is present, is within me and therefore, my expectation of today is that the Word of God is present to me within the moments of my living. May each of you also know this experience of living as real.

the generosity of God ...

A long time ago I developed the habit of hoarding my dollar bills for later in the month when I was broke.  Sensible folk might have thought to hoard a larger denomination but that never occurred to me, not only because I tended to only have singles to secret away, but also because I kind of liked the feel of a kind of large 'wad' of ones - the thickness available from hoarded singles made me feel rich.

So last week I was sorting through my wallet and my stash was big enough (there were maybe 16 ones in this stash) that my old sensation of  'wealth' was activated and to be honest I was a little surprised by the weight of the treasure because life has been so crazy busy I hadn't been paying much attention to my collecting habit. Smoothing the bills and placing them in the back pocket of my wallet felt very satisfying as I fulfilled my old habit of creating secret security.

'Tis the season' as they say, and as I walked across the parking lot to the grocery store a few evenings ago I heard the jingling of the Salvation Army bell.  When I hear that particular jingling I am reminded we are in the Season of giving. As much as I enjoy giving, to be completely honest, much of my life I have had a meager sense of wealth and so was always torn between a desire to share and fear of what I would have left over if I spontaneously gave. Besides, this is indeed the season of giving and so money had been kind of flying out of my checking account! Yet, jingling bells are indeed a call spontaneous giving and so giving my sensation of 'flying' money, I wasn't sure I was in the mood to be spontaneou. Also, this was on my way home from work and my feet were killing me and my brain was used up - just short of dead.

Sometimes 'brain-dead' can be a good thing because during those times, the synapsis of my mental circuitry move so slowly I'm able to 'hear' more than my ego and its fears.  What I heard as my tired body 'limped' across the parking lot was 'this is why I gave you your stash.  Now you'll be able to give every time you hear the jingling.'

"This is why I gave you  and now you'll be able to."  What my tired brain heard in the dusky light, was that I had been generously provided for so I would be able to share: I could enjoy living out of the best impulses of myself without fear.  The generous Spirit of Life not only provided a means for having the essential needs of my life: shelter and food taken care of, but also the ability to enjoy the experience of spontaneous giving.

I need to be completely honest and confess that I have been working with the concepts of an Abundant Universe for about two years now.  As I deliberately studied and meditated, wrote and 'worked' with the concepts of the natural abundance of Life, I discovered that whereas abundance is a simple truth, the reality of living from this truth is complicated by our personal experiences and attitudes toward very real aspects of living: money, our personal sense of worth, our personal security and safety needs.

Slowly, as I worked with new ideas, I learned from study and deliberate reflection that my ability to live from what I was choosing to believe was dependent upon my willingness to examine and surrender old ideas, and my ability to surrender my old ideas was dependent upon a willingness to change my thinking.  Changing my thought patterns about abundance didn't begin with expecting abundance to be like an adult version of Santa Claus - it began with a willingness to change ideas concerning my sense of worthiness; my willingness to see the everyday blessings of living; my willingness to learn how to receive instead of always being the 'caretaker' and most importantly, my willingness to change my expectancy of living.

Life manifests our expectations.  That's really a quite simple statement and yet the complicated part is discovering what our true expectations of life are. My experience of the past two years has been a gradual 'peeling away' of old expectations in order to be open to a new way of thinking.  'Peeling away' is a process to becoming vulnerable. Although vulnerability is necessary to receiving, to be completely honest, in the beginning vulnerability feels perfectly dreadful: raw and scary. And we humans by nature, enjoy feeling safe and secure and really dislike raw and scary: raw and scary feel wrong.

Moving through the process of learning a new way of thinking meant living with the discomfort of feeling as though what I was doing was "wrong".  Again, 'raw and scary' feels just plain wrong. It is this sense of 'wrongness' while learning that causes so many of us to give up before we are able to experience the blessings of vulnerability.

But like I said earlier, 'tis the season', and we have the ultimate story of vulnerabilty. Mary and Joseph, Elizabeth and the shepherds and kings were each able to live their story of Life by being vulnerable: open and receiving, and therefore, trusting of the glorious generosity of the Spirit of Life.

I believe that it is by relationship we discover the generosity and natural abundance of Life. The word relationship expresses connection and connection indicates both being 'linked' and the 'meeting point' and so, near as I'm able to tell from my own experience, my ability to experience the generosity; the natural abundance of life is completely dependent upon what I choose to 'link' myself to.  Do I link to my ego and it's fear? Do I link to old shame and unworthiness?  Do I link to blessing?  Am I willing to 'hear' a voice telling me "this is why I gave you  and now you'll be able to."  What exactly within my day am I choosing to be linked to?

I like to make life as simple as possible and so I 'link' myself each morning on the patio.  It is as the darkness fades and the light slowly creeps into the day that I choose my 'meeting point' of life.  Honestly, it's been a long journey in order to change my beliefs about the natural abundance but I also discovered that as long as I showed up, Life is very kind as it holds my hand and leads me little step by little step forward showing me the  little blessings of each day. Slowly and deliberately I am learning to make this experience my 'secret stash of security.'

hospitality to ....

I decided this morning to come in from the patio early so I could sit in the dark of my living room with the Christmas tree lights on.  It's difficult to miss the beauty of this season sitting in the dark with a little white tree glowing with both light and colored ornaments while Mannheim Steamroller fills the air with music.  As I was absorbing the quiet joy of lights, ornaments and music the traditional Christmas story wandered through my mind.

The images of the story: Gabriel and Mary, Mary and Joseph, Mary and her cousin Elizabeth, Mary on the donkey, the darkness of Bethlehem and going from place to place trying to find a bed, the shepherds and more angels and finally the kings, all played in my mind, Seeing these scenes as new in the light of my Christmas tree, I suddenly realized this was a story of hospitality: a welcoming of the unexpected.  Sitting here in the dark as the story playing in my mind, the drama of everyone's 'yes' - their hospitality and willingness to greeting the unknown - hit me as I realized how profoundly each character in the story was changed by their willingness to respond to what on the surface, appeared somewhat ridiculous.

Mary agreed to become a woman of 'ill repute'.  Joseph after his dream telling him that 'all was well' between Mary and himself agreed to let go of his fears about what "really" happened to Mary and thus appear 'foolish' to his community.  Elizabeth shared her own unlikely and quite possibly somewhat 'shameful' (she was after all 'too old') pregnancy as a means to affirming Mary's condition and offering her comfort and companionship.  Joseph and Mary agreed to a difficult and ill-timed journey to take care of some paperwork - as a woman who has been pregnant three times, I cannot see pictures of Mary on that donkey without feeling empathetic pain.  Then, as is in all really good stories, the scenes of 'caution' in case we missed the point of the story as inn keeper after inn keeper said 'no' rather than yes and shut the door as their response.  Finally just as the situation appears dire {Mary is probably having contractions seated on that donkey for heavens sake}, a person answered their knocking with a 'yes' even though their yes meant offering what would be considered less than ideal and shabby: stables are not exactly fine lodgings.

Angels again appear with, what I have come to believe should be called tidings of 'ill repute' rather than joy, as shepherds are asked to leave their fields to respond to their summons which meant forsaking 'responsibility' in order to carry out their part in this story.  And what about those kings?  The story of the kings is almost the ultimate in foolishness: leaving their status, comfort and responsibilities in order to follow a star: A bit of shining light they believed contained their own personal story of the true meaning of their lives. Absolutely ridiculous!

In the light of the story I 'saw' this morning, Christmas appears to be a story of hospitality, of willingness, to respond with 'yes' to what may seem ill-advised, ridiculous, foolish and somewhat shameful.   And, so we ask, to what end?  Within this complex story, the answer is actually simple: to birth God into the world.                              

It seems as I reflect on this story today, that the point of this ancient story is asking us to consider that each of us is asked to live this same story: to birth God as the 'incarnate', that is quite human form, of our self.  "I can't do that, I'm too imperfect, that's too heretical to believe."  Well, the way I see it, the God who designed the human form, must have been quite aware of the imperfection of this grand design of carrying the Source of Love and Goodness into Life and so we have been given a story full of foolishness and discomfort and a great many choices appearing ill-advised in order to believe that is to trust, that a Power Greater than our pride and status may well be quite active today in our life.

If we are to believe the idea that we also are here to birth into human form, the energy of God: of Love and Goodness, we might also want to consider what the difference was in character between those who were able to recognize that it was indeed angels bringing the summons of foolishness.  I think that answer is simple also: relationship.  Our ability to risk appearing foolish for the sake of Love is born from having experienced a personal connection to the Divine that transcends our personality, our ego and our reputation.  Our personal experience of the Divine, our individual relationship, is, in my experience, the space of living containing the courage for a yes to angels and dreams and stars.

However, there is another piece of this story of relationship: while each was alone in their 'yes', no one in the story lived out their 'yes' alone: Mary and Joseph, Mary and Elizabeth, shepherds - the plural form indicating a group: three kings.  God sends us companions for our journey that we might share our experience and strength, hope and courage.  Who are the human forms of God you have been given in order to live your story?

Leisure of blessing

Last night as I prepared to go to bed, I clicked onto the alarm function of my phone and five choices ranging from 4 AM to 6 AM presented themselves.  In the summer, I really do not need the alarm as my body tends to be seasonal and in the hot desert of Arizona I often awake naturally around 4 or 4:30 AM but now it is winter and my seasonal body needs an alarm or it will cheerfully hibernate until 6:30.  Knowing that today begins my work week, and knowing that since my work is seasonal, the week would begin busy and get even busier as the days progressed, I chose 5AM as my waking time.  I knew that since I would feel 'jammed' and tired as the week progressed, my leisure time was most especially important.

Leisure indicates free time, time and space that is relaxed and without hurry.  Setting my alarm  for 5AM meant that I would have a full 3 hours before I needed to begin the process of getting ready to leave the house. Setting the alarm for 5AM meant that the patio would be shrouded in the darkness of night and I discovered a long time ago that my early morning meditation or reflective time is best before the light makes an appearance and I become visually stimulated by life.  So what do I do sitting on the patio in the dark?
I button myself to blessing.

I've talked about my little business of creating bracelets from vintage buttons. Buttons are simple objects defined in the dictionary as a flat disc (usually) that is slipped through a hole for fastening. Approximately 20,000 of those flat discs live in my workroom and despite the simplicity of their function, what fascinates and enchants me is the variety and uniqueness of form made in the shape of buttons.  My favorite of all the different types though are the ones made from shell.  Most of my shell buttons are truly vintage coming from the 1920' to 1940's; created before plastic became the common material of buttons.

Because shell buttons are a natural substance they become worn from use and this wear of time is evident in the way they feel in my hands.  It may sound a bit 'woo-woo' but I honestly sense the energy of the hands sewing them and the hands using them as they are slipped through a buttonhole; fastening a garment as a person heads into their life.  In this way, buttons are the perfect metaphor for why I set my alarm so I have leisure time on the darkness of my patio: this is the time I slip my self through the sliver of time I reserve as my leisure time with The Source of All Love and Goodness: This is the time I button myself to blessing.

I think of blessings as bits of goodness.  Sometimes blessings are big, sometimes small but generally, like the white shell buttons in my workroom, blessings are so commonplace and simple they are easily overlooked in the hurried busyness of living. And because I really enjoy experiencing the bits of goodness available in the moments of each day, I made the decision years ago - decades ago now - to begin my day by deliberately spending some unhurried time buttoning myself: slipping this Being named Mary, through the space of blessing.

Each morning I choose a time the alarm will go off.  When the alarm sings it's summons, I swing myself from my bed, turn on the coffeepot and in a few minutes I am seated with coffee on the patio where I look at the stars and say thank you for always providing bits of Light even in darkness.  Sipping my coffee I reflect on the Light that shines in the dark and then I thank the Source of this Light for being within myself and within each person I will meet as I go through my day.  Sometimes I then just sit absorbing the meaning of what I have just declared.  Sometimes I 'visit' and chat about what I am feeling, what I am confused about, what I desire.

Whether I just sit or whether I chat, what I have become from years of this choice, is relaxed.  I am no longer stiff or rigid or uptight as I commune with the Source of Life: we are friends meeting each day for our leisurely time of sharing a common life of living as partners.  Knowing that I have partnered myself with the Source of All Love and Goodness in my day, I also know I will be able to see the blessings of goodness scattered throughout the moments of my day.  Whenever I see a blessing I say thank you out loud as a way of remembering my partnership and the love I experienced within my sliver of shared leisure earlier that day.

Each spoken 'thank you' is a quite human way of buttoning myself to this partnership. Each spoken thank you is a reminder to myself that I am never alone, I am always cared for and guided and I am provided for abundantly so I may live the best life possible as Mary.  I know the truth of this reality for I have deliberately, on the patio at the beginning of the day, slipped my little button of self through the space of the Universe which contains only love:  I have buttoned myself to blessing.

the irrational season

What changed a big part of my life began as chatting.  A simple chat between my sister-in-law Maret on the way to a store where she consigned her glass art.  "Have you seen the new exhibit at SMOCA" (Scottsdale Museum of Art)? " "No.  What is it?"  "Buttons!  Buttons used to cover and create sculpture."  "Really!!  I've always loved buttons but I've never thought of them as a basis of sculpture."

We chatted some more about buttons as it turned out Maret collects them.  Except for books, I'm not much of a collector however our talk reminded me I had two tins of buttons at my ex-husband's house that were from my grandmother and my mother. The following week I went over to his house and got the tins. Opening them I was amazed at the variety and a germ of an idea began to form: what if I made simple bracelets from these buttons that had belonged to Gramsy and Mom and gave them to my sisters as Christmas presents?  I had never considered myself particularly 'crafty' nor an artist {except with words which do not require gluing or sewing!} but I thought that even if the bracelets turned out not particularly wearable, they would be an heirloom keepsake attached to both Gramsy and Mom.

I'll now make a long story short: the bracelets turned out far better than anything I had conceived.  I showed them to Maret, she proclaimed them 'art' and suggested I make more and enter them into a juried art show.  The bracelets were accepted to be sold at the show.  I spent six weeks working 12 to 16 hours a day - everyday - creating bracelets and pins.  The show was extremely successful as I received many affirmations of the concept and creation and also made a little money.  A small cottage business of creating and selling bracelets made of vintage, that is buttons made from the 1960's and before {my favorites are from the 1940's} was born.

What, however was this little business born from? 

Again, to make a long story very short, the bracelet creation and then sales of the bracelets was born from a willingness to pay attention to and then respond to, the  promptings I felt within myself as a result of an innocent chat .If I had not answered the prompt to get the tins from Steve's house the germ of the idea to create bracelets for my sisters would not have been evoked: that is, stirred up from within myself.   If I had responded to the idea of creating with the buttons I found in the tins, with a quite logical pooh-poohing; 'I'm not an artist' for I did not think of myself at the time as an artist, I would not have pondered how to create the bracelets. If I had given into the anxiety and fear I initially felt when Maret proposed that I enter a juried art show which meant I could face rejection, I would not have discovered either the variety of bracelets that could be made nor the fact that I could earn money from this irrational idea. I would also not have discovered that a big part of the truth of who I am, is an artist.

It's really simple: life is created from 'yes.'  Life is most often created from tiny yeses we barely pay attention to but are in fact, tiny steps taking us to bigger yeses.  Looking backwards to what I had been doing before the chat with Maret, I realized that for about four months I had been coloring mandalas as part of my morning meditation.  I didn't think of my coloring as an action that would make me an artist but what I am aware of now, is from my regular coloring, my investing in different types of colored pencils, I slowly - oh so very slowly - was learning and discovering the joy of how to use the pencils for creation, and was also, slowly and very, very unconsciously, bringing to life a part of myself I had rejected quite young: the artist.

Okay, another long story made very short: when I began doing this particular blog I committed myself to writing shorter than I had in my previous blog and therefore, I have now just about used up my personally alloted words.  I have also not written what I intended to write about buttons.  But here's what I know about creativity: it is saying 'yes' that is essential and the 'yes' is not a yes in our head: it is a response to inner urges  given form by action.  Sometimes - actually in creative living it's more like 'almost always' - the action being stirred in our heart may seem completely irrational and take us where we had not intended.  I learned that particular truth when I said yes to writing which became an adventure developing courage for venturing into the unknown: I  never really know where I will end up on the 'paper' when I begin to write and after two decades I am finally, more or less - depending upon the day, comfortable with this fact.

Creative response which is the willingness to bring the new: that which has not been seen before, into the Light of Living - like the artist hidden within my self - almost always appears irrational.  I'll end this with one of my very favorite quotes from the writer Madeline L'Engle about Advent - the wonderful season we are now in as we head toward Christmas:  This is the irrational season; where love blooms bright and wild.  Had Mary been full of reason, there'd have been no room for the child.


Maybe tomorrow I'll write what I intended today ... or maybe something new is being born!  May you be blessed with awareness of promptings - stirrings - of irrational love.








 

Updrafts of flight from books

Thoughts boundI that they might give flight. These are my words to describe the sacred energy of books.  I love books.  No, I don't simply love books, I revere them for I understand them as manifestations of the holy: the energy of Goodness placed within humans to be given a form only we humans are able to give Goodness: the ability to create life from the use of our thoughts.

Right now I am enjoying a wonderful book as part of my morning reading: morning reading is where I take in 'words' to nourish and nurture my Spirit; words that fertilize the soil of my Being and therefore help me grow and develop.  Jan Richardson, in the introduction to, In The Sanctuary of Women, describes the intention of her words as; This book is an invitation to enter into a conversation.  Here amongst these pages, in the presence of women past and present, is a place to enter into the mysteries that lie at the heart of who we are."


Like most really good conversations the book has great depth and evokes parts of myself I had been unaware of, or perhaps had been unaware of how pieces of self  had grown and/or changed.  One conversation she offered was from a poem by Appalachian poet George Ella Lyon titled Where I'm From.  Lyon's poem has been used all over the world as an introduction to a writing exercise designed to evoke a personal poem describing the 'soil' each of our roots grows from.

As soon as I had finished reading that section of the book, I felt the stirrings and urgings that indicate I need to grab pen and paper and write - give form - to the thoughts being evoked.  I'm going to share the writing I did in the hopes that perhaps you also might be stirred to reflect on the soil your roots have grown in.

I was born from the wildness of Michigan joined to the cultivation of Cincinnati.  
From summers of Gramsy's boiled potatoes and strawberry shortcake cooked and baked
in a home where the backyard held a weeping willow where fairies danced at dusk.
A home with the Sacred Heart of Jesus over the couch and a piano room holding
a tunneled closet of mystery and imagination.
Summers of hearing scrabble dice clatter on dining table and laughing women holding
bridge hands with feet in the children's wading pool.


I am from rows of polished shoes readied for Sunday Mass and rosaries slipping
through fingers in cars, bedrooms, living rooms and incensed churches.
From a home lined and piled with books: thoughts of God enlivened
by writers and readers.
I am from beads and books made holy as grace given form by lives.


I am from smoke and drink which became smoke and coffee consumed
around folding tables; desire seated on folding chairs and begetting
the slow unfolding of personhood.
From early mornings on the patio, I am from light overcoming darkness
as a daily and unfailing gift.
I am from ink and paper; scribbled aches and desires, dreams and hopes, wisdom of Being
slowly growing as courage to write, rather than merely think, took form.


I am from wildness and dignity intertwined in the DNA of my clan of wanderers
and seekers driven by lusty curiosity and willingness to gamble on the unknown.
From my clans heritage I wear scars of living as badges of honor showing willingness
to fearlessly gamble on both sin and redemption.


I am a woman from a tribe of Matriarchs; proud brave women who fed
upon a living God as the sustenance of their living and from this eternal
energy birthed new life as babies, pansies, writings and drawings; new life
sustained with unfailing belief in love's courage.


From love's courage, I am.


May you be blessed with knowing the soil of your Being.

I've always wanted wings ...

My sister and her husband arrived in town to spend six weeks over the holidays with family and despite having a car packed to the gills, there was no room {Jaye has far too much common sense to even consider packing what is not truly needed} for a Christmas tree to put up in their rented condo.  Really not a problem as we sisters have a mania for Christmas odds and ends and so I offered my extra tree and ornaments and began sorting through them.

Angels and birds, and more angels and birds!  I have a large box, actually the largest box of ornaments, full of angel and bird ornaments.  I confess, none of these will go to her as I discovered while sorting that most contain memories of small hands - my boys - giving them to me.  Looking into the box, I saw wings of fanciful color made of feathers, metal, glass, clay and some kind of woven grass. And, in addition to wonderful memories, I also discovered that the possibilities available to creatures with wings, causes an ache deep inside myself:  I have always desired flight.

Sometimes my desire for flight is nothing more than the longing for the instant change of being somewhere else - away from rather than going to; sometimes the desire for flight is impatience over the slowness of life's unfolding and I wistfully fantasize wings taking me instantly to what I desire.  Wait! that's not flight - it's time travel!  Well, it's a fantasy after all and wings would seem useful in turning fantasy into reality.

My longest running fantasies always involve experiences of  freedom which makes sense as I once believed that my greatest personal need was for freedom. It seems to me that freedom would be more readily available if one had wings - with wings I could suddenly take flight when feeling too bound or confined.  Over the past couple years though I have discovered a deeper truth about myself and as much as I love - and need - a sense of freedom,  the deeper desire, the hunger that pushes the word freedom to the surface of my thoughts, is actually the word flow - the sensation of be completely and effortlessly engaged.  Birds when flying appear to effortlessly flow through the air.  Angels, at least to my mind, are effortlessly engaged in goodness. Clearly  I have believed this ability to engage effortlessly was because of wings!  My true desire is wings for experiencing the joy of flow; engaging life wholeheartedly.

To engage is to be involved or entangled with: when I engage something or someone, I join myself to it; we become part of one another's 'now' experience.  Flow occurs when this kind of mutual engagement is total and creative.  Great conversation, love-making, cooking and/or eating a delicious meal, journaling and writing, coloring mandalas, creating with my buttons and putting together collages are each occasions high in my personal potential for flow because when engaged in these acts I allow myself to engage creatively and I flow through time and space as though I were a bird or an angel with wings extended catching the upward draft of air.

Wings! When I experience flow, I do have wings.  My 'wings' unfurl as I intentionally use the power of thought to be completely present. Each of the occasions I mentioned, I know to be delightful and so 'wings' of intention unfurl without needing to even think about doing so: I expect enjoyment on those occasions and so I relax and voila! wings of thought extend and catch the flow of goodness: I fly and soar in the freedom of wonder and delight while doing what I expect to enjoy.

Ruminating on these ideas, it appears that I do have wings. It also appears that my wings and the wings of birds and angels are a tad different:: birds and angels seem to use their wings as a natural part of living: birds don't think about flying, they fly.  Angels don't think about carrying goodness around, they just do.  How then, do I, use the wings available to me more effortlessly?I

I suspect the answer is in the above paragraph: birds and angels catch the updrafts of energy for flight because they know why they exist and flight is simply a natural part of carrying out their purpose.
Ralph Waldo Emerson understood his purpose for being alive and described it as: "I am an organ through which Spirit executes It's will and Creative Power."  I read these words almost three years ago and have recited them, written many, many times about them in my journal and lit enough candles while uttering those words so the intention of the words is now engaged within my heart.  When I am able to live from those words, the Spirit Emerson refers to, does give me wings for catching the updrafts of goodness ceaselessly flowing in life and having been deliberate about extending myself to catch their flow, I am able to flow through much more of my day than I once did.

Despite my deliberate intention, I neither fly nor flow perfectly - not even close to perfectly - but today, after almost three years of engaging Emerson's words and making them mine, my wings of intention unfurl more frequently and more easily.  Sometimes I really am one with those lovely wings that I have always yearned to have for now I know, I do indeed have 'human' wings ... the wings of intentional thought.

In the world of religious thought the Spirit is generally depicted as a dove and although there are many images of traditional religious belief that I do not take as mine, I'm completely engaged with the image of the Spirit as a Dove: it's a bird; it has wings; it flows ceaselessly upon the energy of Goodness - yes indeed, I will indeed be an 'organ' or vehicle of such energy.  After all, I've always longed for wings and now I know where they may be found and how to use them.

First of the B's - Blessing

It was the word All that got my attention.


"All God asks is for us to be open to the one hundred blessings placed in our life each day." 


 How can it be that 'all', meaning the only thing God would ask of me would be to be open to blessing?  What happened to all the shalls and shall nots?  Where was sin in this all?  How could I have spent my entire life wondering if what I was doing was right or wrong when this statement says that the only thing God wants of me is to be open to blessing?  I was so intrigued by this idea I made the decision to try living as though it were true.  This choice was in some ways a no brainer: worry about 'sin' or simply be open to being blessed a hundred times a day! Which would you choose?  Simple right?


Like all simple things however, it turned out to not be easy to actually live.  For one thing, 100 is a lot!  My logical brain broke down the number into a ratio of 100 blessing divided by the average number of hours of being awake and it came out to being aware of 6 or 7 blessings every hour!  Finding and acknowledging 6 or 7 blessings every hour would mean paying attention- really close attention!


At first I was really lousy at this particular scavenger hunt.  For one thing, I kept forgetting I was looking for blessings.  As I became aware that it was difficult to pay attention to finding occasions of being blessed, I discovered the problem is that we are pretty much trained to pay attention to mistakes and difficulties.  I discovered my mind could 'chew' on difficulties or mistakes endlessly and then I discovered that chewing on problems obscured blessings.  Ah-ha!  That discovery became a big bundle of blessing, but how do I make it different?


By nature I am both stubborn and a problem solver and sometimes this combination of traits is useful because I refused to give up until I at least discovered a way to make my scavenger hunt somewhat successful.  Which is how I began talking to myself.  Follow me around now - after two years of playing this game of hunting for blessings - and you will hear me say out-loud, countless times (I'm hoping it's at least 100), 'Oh thank you!'  ' Oh, that was helpful, thank you!'


Saying thank you out loud was how I began to change my old thought pattern of paying attention to mistakes and difficulties.  Saying thank you out loud meant I was using three of my senses each time I discovered a blessing: I 'saw' it; I spoke it; I heard myself.  Using three senses each time meant I increased my learning by 3!  Increasing my learning capacity this way for each newly discovered blessing meant I learned more quickly and became better and better at discovering blessing.


Discovering blessings all day long meant I was attaching myself to 'freely bestowed' goodness over and over again throughout my day.  Attaching oneself to goodness this frequently quite naturally changed the thought patterns of negativity and discontent encouraged in our culture.  Deliberately attaching oneself to moments of goodness a hundred times a day means that blessed energy enters you.  Enters: becomes part of.  Wow - talk about a natural energy drink!


Allowing one hundred small infusions of goodness to become part of my living, changed my life.


My life was not changed by the quote at the top of this page.  My life was changed by the deliberate decision to live the meaning of the quote.  My life was changed by a willingness to believe it's truth and therefore to not give up when living from it was initially difficult and so I needed to learn how to work with it's ideas.  My life was changed by the willingness to be open and receive the goodness.  My life was changed by learning that blessings are often quite small: a smile from a stranger; a 'remembering' that left to my own devises would have been a forgetting of cell phone, keys, sunglasses; a delight or wonder that I felt seeing clouds move across the sky or my glorious flowers growing wildly.  My life was changed as I also became willing to accept and receive larger blessings.  My life was changed as I began to understand that if other people were part of my blessings, perhaps I am to be one of their blessings.


Meister Eckhart, a mystic from the Middle Ages, said that if the only prayer you ever pray is 'thank you', that is enough.  I am beginning - after two years of living this way - to understand those words as truth.  


My blessing for you, are these words and a sincere hope you might join me in this scavenger hunt of blessings.