A Quiet Day this Saturday

Once a year my church holds a day of rest and reflection. We call it our Quiet Day. This will be my first year to attend. In some ways I’m looking forward to it. What will the day be like? We have gentle yoga planned. Are there other activities? In other ways I’m a bit nervous. I find peace in solitude, will there be too many people for that? Presumably I’ll spend time quietly talking to God, or maybe just waiting. Will I find answers to my questions? Or will I fidget too much, as I’m wont to do, to find peace?

Today my friend San has a new post up that gives me food for thought. It’s about a view on life that has one turning around and viewing life from the opposite direction. It also covers the inner and outer voices. That gave me so much to think about that I’m hoping I’ll be able to focus on it’s meanings on Saturday. The post, you can read it here, made me think about seeing things from that different perspective. Can it really be that simple? Can I mentally turn my chair around and see my life differently? On Saturday?

The key concept of my hope derives from something I’ve done once unsuccessfully and my priest did recently very successfully. What we both attempted was wandering in the wilderness. My priest went on sabbatical. During that time he went on a solo hiking trip, after a meditative and prayerful retreat, to spend time with God in the wilderness. My last attempt at walking with God in the wilderness was a couple of years ago and even with all the markers on the trail I focused on the wrong things, didn’t plan carefully enough, and had wrong info which, if corrected, would have given me a lifeline. The result for my priest was that he came back refreshed, renewed, and changed from his experiences. My results were different. I got lost and in the process lost faith in myself. Not in God though. I give him all the credit for me not ending up in an emergency room after getting lost on a walk that had plenty of signs if I’d known how to read them.

In some ways that analogy also applies to my life and career choices. Good intentions aren’t enough. You have to have skills in reading signs, and plan with forethought and self awareness when you choose the paths you take. So when I asked my priest last Sunday if he would teach a class on how to find our way in the wilderness I was being more than hopeful. It occurs to me that perhaps learning how to walk in the wilderness physically would also help me walk it metaphorically.

Since I’m seeming to place so much hope on this idea I plan on encouraging my priest again to teach this class. Folk in my church love going hiking and for the past 2 years we’ve had a trip to a beautiful camping place in our state, Big Bend. There are a lot of places around our city where we can go hiking. We even have access to several places that can be reached on day trips, done with 2 hours of driving each way. I’m not ignorant of the fact that it takes more than locale to teach one how to survive in the wilderness. I just hope that I can generalize the skills of successful navigation to the rest of my life. And that by going into the wilderness with God I’ll tune out the distractions of life, as I did in my youth, and focus on what is real and true. Maybe that will make a difference.

Dibs of This and Dabs of That

Sunday was a lovely day! It is has been my favorite day of the week since I started attending both morning services. For most of the time I’ve been at Church of Reconciliation I was a regular at early service (8:00 AM). Then I joined the choir and my attendance switched to late service (10:30 AM) because the early service is a contemplative service and doesn’t usually have music. When I conferred with my priest about my function as a verger in training he suggested that since I was the verger with the most early service experience that should be my area of focus. This was just great with me because there were friends I’d made at early service that I missed when I attended late service. So these days I head to church early, aiming to be there by 7:30 AM, so that I can be helpful if anyone needs assistance and step in to take over a role if the person who was assigned to it is absent and no substitute was arranged for. This is the function of a verger, to help things run smoothly.

The past few Sunday’s our newest member of altar guild has been arriving early and setting up when I got there. This gentleman is very nice and helpful. He says he’s still in training so that is why he has been doing the setup every Sunday. That fits in with my feelings about pre-service setup. There have been enough changes to the way we do things now, thanks to our wonderful associate rector, that I need to practice and remind myself how things go and what is different between the two services.

On Sunday I also ran into my verger/instructor who cleared a few misconceptions up about the way things were supposed to go in my training. The verger trainee who is most fully trained was there too and they are both going to send me necessary documents so that I can complete the sheaf of pages necessary for Robert, our rector, to read and sign off on when he returns from Sabbatical at the beginning of October. At that time we all want to be ready so that he can do an induction ceremony during one of the services.

Not long ago I finished my taxes which I’d filed an extension on when I was looking for some paperwork. I never found the paperwork but it wasn’t critical to the return so once I got the desk cleared off, for the umpteenth time, I did them online using the Turbo Tax free online software and efiled for free too. My refund hit my account in 2 weeks and on Saturday I went grocery shopping at WalMart. It was a lovely time and I over loaded the cart with good things. I’ve taken to using the store brands since they cost less money. My goal when buying groceries is to have each meal cost as close to one dollar as possible. I think I did a pretty good job of that and my pantry and freezer are over stocked with good things to eat again. Plus some snacks. I plead guilty on the snack thing as I bought a package of Oreo type cookies but they were store brand ($2) and I put them in the freezer and am only having them in 3 cookie increments. That's what the package says is a serving size and I’m sticking to it. I also got some of those mini cups of ice cream so that I can have a dessert which is portion controlled. Yay for Blue Bell who puts these things in bags of 12. That will last me several weeks before I run out.

The book I’m reading lately is Care of the Soul by Thomas Moore. It’s non fiction which has traditionally been hard for me to keep on reading after an initial endeavor. But this book is speaking to me in ways that have a lot to do with my need for understanding the concept of soul and its growth plus Moore uses mythology to illustrate his points and his story telling is like someone explaining a parable. It was the explaining of a parable that brought my belief in God to completion and I think this is working the same way. Instead of reading fast I find myself reading a paragraph, sometimes just a sentence, at a time and enjoying the meaning I’m discovering there. As a child I read all of Bullfinch’s Mythology and also Edith Wharton’s book on the subject so it delights me to find this excellent story teller using the story of The Odyssey and the story of Persephone's abduction to illustrate loss, searching, and journeys of discovery.

A couple of weeks ago I held a de-flea day. I went to the vet and got some Frontline Plus for my boys, a couple of pills that get rid of all the fleas on them in 30 minutes, without hurting the cats, and a huge can of carpet spray that kills fleas in just a few minutes and has a residual effect. After coming home and using all of the above my desk is now my own again for the most part. The boys still like to be close to me but they no longer feel they need to leave the floor to be comfortable and free of biting pests. I got this done early enough that Hyrum's ruff is saved for the summer. In the past the dermatitis he gets from flea bites generates enough scratching and grooming measures that it is thinned out by the time he feels comfortable. That might be cooler for him but it looks awful. His ruff and thick coat are a couple of his most attractive features and it takes a long time, almost a year, for that gorgeous fur collar to grow back in. So I’m very happy with this turn of events.

On the scrabble playing front, Sandi and I’ve are still using Pogo.com to play scrabble online, but we are now using their National Scrabble Association (NSA) game rooms and rules. This makes the game more challenging and fun. By NSA rules we each get 30 minutes at the beginning of the game. Your clock counts down from whatever is left on it when it is your turn to play. If you are slow and end up using all of your 30 minutes before the game is over you lose 10 points for each minute or part of as you and your opponent strive to complete the game. That drastically changes the scoring and speeds things up a bit. I discovered that I need to memorize the 2 Letter Word chart for the game. Apparently, serious scrabble players memorize quite a few charts and word lists. Or at least that is my impression. So I went online and found a table of 2 letter words and also some lists of 3 letter words. It’s the uncommon ones that you have to work on. Those are often the ones that get you the most parts. I’m not very good at playing by NSA rules yet. I get stuck in one word mode too frequently, looking for some place to play it. I also need to practice my word on word building skills. You can make much bigger scores by running a word right alongside of another word already played than you can by branching off perpendicular to that word and using up valuable open space on the board. While researching this I discovered that there is a NSA Scrabble club in town. Going to a meeting might be something nice to do and if they have training sessions there I might gain some added skills that would be of good use. Right now my rating is dropping and I’m at a loss as to how to bring it back up. Sandi’s is on the rise and she has achieved intermediate level according to Pogo.com.

That's it on the personal news front. I hope you all have a good week and don’t expire in the horrid heat we’ve been experiencing down here in south Texas. If you’ve gotten any rain of late please send it my way. Cheers!

That Community Feeling

I've been meaning to write this post for a few days now. Don't know why it's taken me so long. Maybe I needed to spend more time mulling over what I experienced.

Last Saturday, July 4th, I was scheduled as officiant for the Morning Prayer (MP). I like doing this because: 1) it's quiet and peaceful, 2) it's a great way to start your day, and 3) it allows me to spend private time in the sanctuary. Because we hold MP at 6:45 AM we don't usually have any visitors even though the service we read has room for giving thanks for them. Typically it's just whoever is officiating alone, reading through the service, and saying prayers for the sick and needy on our list of those in need. But, due to a mix up, last Saturday was different. I showed up a little late, oops! And there was someone already in the sanctuary.

Being a few minutes late isn't a huge deal because MP is almost always done by just the Lay Eucharistic Minister (LEM). Many years ago the decision was made to do it early to avoid conflict with work schedules and rush hour traffic. So we do our praying for the congregation alone and faithfully, and without the need to robe up and make it a full fledged service.

The person already in there was another LEM, Ron, who, like myself, is also a verger. He told me he'd promised to take someone's place. I'm pretty sure it was my day so maybe he was given the wrong date somehow because I know he isn't casual about such things. Oh well, the intent was met no matter the date.

When I saw Ron there I was surprised, of course, but also rather pleased. Ron and I've co-officiated at Healing Eucharists (HE) before and found we work well together. Not wanting to disturb the prayer he might already be saying I quietly walked around and sat down next to him. We decided to share the service and he handed me a Book of Common Prayer (BoCP) open to the point he was at.

We sat there together like old friends, taking turns on the different parts of the service. I read a scripture and he read another. We did the Psalm together alternating by whole verse. We did the same with the other responsive parts. It was a nice and comfortable way to practice something I'm occasionally required to do for the congregation when the priest isn't available to perform the HE. This was much better. It had that warm friendly feel. That's what church community is, right? Friends getting together to worship? And that's a change I've noticed in the services I officiate at since I entered verger training. They are more comfortable. They feel friendlier, I'm more relaxed, I feel comfortable with modifying things a bit if the spirit moves me, and I've gotten compliments on the results. I guess I'm starting to fit the role of LEM and Verger better. And I really like it.

When I found my faith it was during the 80's movement and personal relationships with Jesus were all the rage. The church I became a believer in was nondenominational charismatic and I became quite use to the feeling of the Holy Spirit's presence during the service and in my life. Services and sermons were more casual and heart felt. While there was a structure, there was nothing very ritualized about them. That's been a real problem for me since I returned to my Episcopal roots. I don't find the spirit in the high toned ritualized words that we say every Sunday. My emotions used to be moved at every service. Not here in the Episcopal ritual. If I didn't know God meant me to be at this specific church I'd probably change because that's what I did when the bible got boring, I changed versions to read it in one that was different and thus more interesting. But I won't change churches now. I've been learning about service at Church of Reconciliation Episcopal and growing into the understanding of what it means to be part of a community.

It's become a source of comfort to realize that I am part of a community. Sitting there beside Ron I felt like I'd come home! And it was VERY spiritual! A few years ago our church viewed some videos on Everyday Spirituality. We learned about spirituality of place, activity, and ritual! That's what I found in that MP service. I wish I could feel it everyday of my life. I wish I could have it at every service.

We've started to make a lot of changes at Reconciliation. They are often small but none of them are without meaning. Because life often presents itself as change I think this has made me more interested in our worship services. The ritual and the dance of its participants has changed. That makes it interesting and a new source of study. Instead of coming to the table we "set the table" during the service. That's much more involved and involving. Actions seem to have more meaning and thus more significance. If this is finding the sacred in the ordinary, a phrase given to me by JS, then I've been doing a mental disconnect because I never thought of Sunday services as ordinary till they became routine.

These days when I sit in church I sit with a community, a community of singers a.k.a the choir. Our practice nights are my social night. Sunday morning breakfast is also a time for community. I eat at Brown Hall (fellowship hall) and often have others to spend time with sharing our interests, weeks activities, and getting to know them better. It's a change in me that keeps me there, no longer going early to pre-service warm up to get organized but instead, chatting till I'm rushing to get to the warm up on time. I know there are things missing from my community interactions. Saturday's experience showed me that. But they will happen in time as I heal, grow into fullness of understanding and connectedness, and am ready to present myself and my world to the body in joy, knowing that they will be one with me in our shared love of what we've built.

Celtic Mass Impressions - 100 words

Celtic Mass, different, meaningful, wonderful prayers. So many prayers. Anglican Rosaries come to mind. Trying to fit phrases with beads, now being seen in some songs, wondering, "Will cadence work?" Songs, soloist, synergy. Efforts with others to make harmony from strange melodies. Four gates open to usage. Four directions to go in and go out. Which direction will I take? Will you be there? Friend. Circle. Reaching up. Bread served with love. Quenching wine. Five priests, five servants, five sayers. One speaker with humor. One voice from another land, enchanting, encouraging. Beautiful face, harmonious spirit which calls. Soul reaching out.

New Meditation Link

I was looking for some peace this morning and started browsing through my own meditation links. Hamish Fulton seemed to be soothing but also not quite what I wanted. It was just a little too busy for my present need. So I went to handy old Google and typed in Meditation. Now my Google has Stumble Upon links to show what pages others have liked and a friend of mine had reported on two as being helpful in his meditation practices. So I went to them. The first was just a page on how to meditate and looked rather nice but not what I wanted. Then I found his Zen link.

Zen is a cool little website whose purpose is to teach you the beginnings of Zen and meditation. It is interactive and you just click your way through it. You should allow pop-ups for this site because they are part of the instruction and not harmful in any way. I found a couple of them amusing. Have your speakers on because this site also has sounds, such as those you might notice only in meditation and also a really nice gong you get to strike at the end of the process. I found this site soothing and helpful. There is even a short part on breathing where you can practice. If you are looking for a peaceful site please go check this one out. The link is on my side bar under Meditation at the top, "Zen".

Namaste

The Labryinth

The image is an example of the Chartres Labyrinth. It is the pattern for the one at my church. Walking a labyrinth is a form of meditation and prayer.

The story of the labyrinth, as it was told to me, is lovely and right out of medieval times. Back in the days of old faithful members of the church longed to take pilgrimages to the Holy Lands. This was seen as a life goal of the faithful and many saved for years to go on one. Then along came the Crusades. Suddenly it wasn't safe to travel over there anymore. This made walking a pilgrimage to the Holy Lands very difficult. To compensate for the lack of opportunity Labyrinths started springing up all over the place. On them one walks one's pilgrimage in silent meditative prayer.

Church of Reconciliation Episcopal introduced the Labyrinth to San Antonio. We have a ministry with a portable one which we can cart from place to place and are in the process of building a permanent one. We see it as a resource for the entire community. Several other churches now have labyrinths or are in the process of building one in town. One of the nice things about labyrinths is that you don't have to be rich to walk one. You don't need to be Christian either. It is truly an interfaith tool.

I've added a link to The Labyrinth Society in the new Meditation section. This is a lovely page that covers just about as much information about the labyrinth as you might want to know: its history, different types, where to find one, how to walk one, and there is also a section on labyrinths and children. There are also instructions on how to make a labyrinth and several animated drawings so that you can draw a finger labyrinth. I think this art might be a good thing to use in the classroom. Children know instinctively how to use a finger labyrinth and helping them draw their own would make a nice cross-cultural art project. In the mean time, I plan on trying my hand at drawing several of the labyrinth forms. Somehow, I suspect the drawing of one is almost as effective at calming stressed nerves as tracing one.

This is a finger labyrinth. You can trace it online with your finger. Here's a link to one in PDF format that you can print out and keep.

Peace!

Meditation - a new link category

Prayer is meditation. Walking can also be meditation. To my mind, so can singing and dancing. Meditation is a focus on the spiritual. It comes in many shapes and forms and crosses most religious boundaries. It connects us with our past, present and future.

My best friend meditates as frequently as she can fit the time in. Susan seems to meditate through her daily exercise. My sister, when she was younger, took one of those courses on transcendental meditation with a guru. This was during the 70's. She still meditates today in the structure of her faith and life. I'm finding myself doing a form of meditation that has nothing to do with clearing the mind but a lot to do with finding a focus and a connection to the spiritual. My church has a prayer garden which is so meditative in nature that even the spirits of past members rest there. We are in the process of building a labyrinth.

Because so much of faith and communication with God centers around a form of quiet reflection (a.k.a. meditation) I decided that it would be a good thing to include a list of meditation links here. The ones I have found so far are linked to one another. The first is the World Community for Christian Meditation. It led me to The Spiritual Site. From them I found Hamish Fulton who is an artist who loves walking. WCCM has a lot of good information and some really good articles on meditation. One I particularly like is about silence in the Eucharist. The Spiritual Site is a work in progress. They have some very good links in addition to some audio interviews with Laurence Freedman. Hamish Fulton's website is a work of art in and of itself. There is a constant sound of walking and some very beautiful images that fade in and out and blend as you progress through the site.

I'll add more links as I find them. Enjoy!

Personality Types and Spirituality

Psychological profiles seem to be cropping up a lot this month. My Diocese newspaper had an article on personality types and prayer. It tied the Meyer Briggs Types Inventory (MBTI) to different methods of prayer and suggested several for each type. I'm an ESTJ and it was suggested that I would enjoy body prayers in beautiful surroundings. Music was suggested and also incense and candles to create a sensual environment for prayer. This is a very accurate view of how I prefer to pray. When I am in the mood, dancing can be a kind of physical prayer, an exultation of life. Singing can do the same and, for that reason, I'm working hard to bring back some music skills I once had but have sadly let lapse for life style reasons. The Personality and Prayer article came out of a book on the subject, Prayer and Temperament: Different Prayer Forms for Different Personality Types. My PC recognized it when I brought him the article. I may get it someday. In the meantime I have the article to tell me more about something I was already somewhat familiar with...good ways for me to pray.

The other psychological profile came in the form of enneagrams. I'd never heard of them till I had a discussion with my PC on the MBTI. He told me about these and I looked for a page and took a test. The test was free and probably not the entire battery of questions, still I liked the results and learned a little bit more about myself. If you are interested in taking the same test I took go here. There are two different forms of the test on this page. One is the RHETI which may be the oldest version of the enneagram test and someone declared the least accurate (only 65%). I took it anyway. The second form is not labeled except as the New Test by Tal. It has a broader range of answers for you to choose which I thought made the results more personal. It also gives broader ranges of scores in each of the 9 types so it might conceivably be more accurate.

Among the 9 types, I turned out to be a peacemaker. From the page's description, "Peacemakers are receptive, good-natured, and supportive. They seek union with others and the world around them." That pretty much describes me. I'm accepting and accommodating. My secondary type is that of artist/romantic. For this one the site declares, "Romantics have sensitive feelings and are warm and perceptive." Well, I'm not sure about that description but the rest of the page told how to get along with a romantic and what was cool and not so cool about being one. Those bits I did find sensible and pretty much accurate.

Being the good client that I am, I took this new info about myself with me to the latest PC session and learned more. It seems that these types can be used to connect to faith functioning as well as life and social functioning. That was more interesting to me since I am trying to see ways to make my faith work better for me in both private and social areas. My PC gave me a web page which described that in some detail. If you are interested in reading more about that go here.

Did all this new info change me? Not really. But it gave me food for thought and plenty to discuss with friends and PC alike. It also gave me something in common with my sister. She too is a peacemaker. That's nice to know. What can come of all this? Well, if you want you can go find your type and look for ways to use it to make your spiritual life better or more conducive to growth. You can also try to use it to avoid the bad side that each personality seems to have. For me it is enough to learn a bit more about myself and how I function. Plus I plan to use the prayer guide a lot. That part of my life definitely could use some improvement. In the meantime, there is lots of cool stuff out there about enneagrams, and personality types that you can learn and connect to whatever suits you. Go ahead, find your personality type, and explore! And in the nature of my type, "Peace!"

Decluttering

About a year ago, one of my Sunday school groups discussed the idea of unburdening ones life from the many possessions that we seem to accumulate. The primary reason presented was that when one trimmed down ones life one then gained freedom. Freedom from clutter was a biggie. Freedom from the need to clean and care for all of that stuff. The heavy theme of the discussion was the freedom to get up and go should the Lord call. I can think of a few other freedoms that getting rid of clutter provides.

Freedom from distraction. You don't have all these things calling you to do stuff because you haven't done them in a while. Suddenly you have time to mentally go places you haven't gone before because you had all these things to do with your stuff. A sense of calm comes over your space when it isn't filled to the max. Which leads me to...

Freedom of movement. You suddenly have space to move around in. And not just you but your possessions. Finally there is room to rearrange that shelf so that it looks better. You can set that prized possession front and center where it can be seen with nothing to detract from it pride of place. And let's not forget that, as stated above, going places mentally requires space too. So you suddenly acquire mental room as it were.

Freedom from stress. There is a sense of peace about a space that is simple in its design and content. That's why minimalism is often popular in decorating schemes. I think that organization of things both physically and mentally is stressful. Imagine how many things you actually own and then imagine the energy you expend mentally just keeping track of where they all are so that you can find them instantly. That's a huge use of mental resources. No wonder my ex was often lost among our many papers and the clutter on the desk. He was the one who had a mental list of store prices and a road map of which roads went where. I was the one who knew where and in which stack a paper or bill was and if it had been dealt with.

Freedom for spirituality. This is a biggie for me. When I see clutter I don't feel calm. And I need calm for the spirit to take over. Without that place, yes room, for spirituality I can't focus on prayer effectively and tend to pull back from the experience. This isn't something I want to find myself doing, so I really need the freedom of space for worship at home. I need it at church too.

My church, like many others, holds two services each Sunday. One is early morning, at 8:00 AM. The other is late morning and finishes about noon. The late service is big, most of the members attend this one. It has music, acolytes, more than one lay minister, cantors...all the trimmings. If you want to be in on the social world of my church you go to this one. In contrast, the early service is very small, fewer than 40 people. It has no music. There is only one lay minister to help out. It is also very short being only 40 minutes in length. This is the service I attend. And I pay a price for attending it by missing out on much of the social goings on. But this is the one where I can focus. It is quiet, meditative and the only thing missing to make it a Taize service is the music. When I first started attending this church I went to the late service. A month or so later I decided to try the early service to see who was there and how it worked with my schedule. I went once and never switched back.

One more freedom that lack of clutter provides is productivity. Suddenly you know where everything is and you have space to spread your projects out so that you can work in whatever fashion makes you most effective. And that is what I'm going to need this fall when I student teach. I've no real idea yet what all student teaching involves other than that I will end up managing a classroom for 4 weeks out of 12 without support. And I'm imagining all kinds of night time projects to keep the classroom activities going from day to day. I may be able to do this in the classroom I'm assigned to, but teachers have different styles and this won't be my space. I'm going to have to play it by ear, but I already know that having comfort in my own space will be important for me in being effective, productive and able to focus on the tasks instead of the search for resources and tools. That will come best from my own space at home unless the teacher makes me welcome in every possible way.

So, as I mentioned in earlier posts, I am starting the process of getting rid of clutter. All the freedoms I've mentioned will be then be added to my life. This past week I've done the laundry...no more piles of clothes on counters. This week I am getting rid of magazines. The stacks will be gone when I am through...and hopefully the articles I cull from them will be read. Then I will start clearing out my files of unnecessary documents and keep only the most relevant and current. If I'm really creative I may find a way to get rid of some furniture. Then I really will have space to move around in, and I love to dance and stretch which is hard in the small place I rent.

Will this give me the freedom to go should the Lord call? I hope so. It will certainly make it easier to move should I have to pack up and haul my stuff elsewhere. If God calls, I hope it is to a nice place. I trust that when I start searching for that teaching position my prayers will be answered and I find a really good fit that allows me to grow and do my best for the children I will teach. Since I have been dealing with the stress of an unknown future lately, I think that getting rid of stuff will let me feel in control and at peace knowing that I can do what is necessary where I am or where ever I need to go. So here's to decluttering and peaceful places and paths.

The Roles People Play

I've started reading Thomas Moore's Care of the Soul. When I got to part 2, which is about love, I looked ahead at the chapter titles, for there are many in that section of the book. One of them read "Mother" and another "Father." These two most important people in a person's life often represent the embodiment of love for us all the rest of our lives.

Parents teach us how to do things. And in teaching us that they often teach us about life and love. My parents were there. They took care of me. They fed me, clothed me, tended me when I was sick, and took me to school so that I could get an education. But it was my grandparents who taught me how to do the things I think of as bringing up a child. My grandmother taught me how to cook, make beds, clean a house, sew clothes, add and make fractions and enjoy the funny papers. My grandfather taught me how to plant and tend a garden, use every tool in his work shed, and play dominoes. With him and my grandmother I would go out and learn how to put a worm on a hook and catch fish, or watch where the white wing he shot fell into the brush and go out and bring it back. My grandfather and I would mow the lawn together, me at age 7 walking behind the huge lawnmower surrounded by his arms with my smaller hands on the handles between his big ones. So in my mind, even though I correctly call my parents Mom and Dad, it was my grandparents who really filled those roles.

From that upbringing a lot of my ideas about spirituality, family and faith arise. So I guess when I read those chapters in Moore's book, I may have to translate the information to apply to my grandparents instead of my parents. What that will entail I'm not sure yet. It may require me to define or redefine those roles so that they fit my life. Or I may end up redefining my ideas about love, what it is and how one shows it.

Today I'm going for a first visit with a man who may become my spiritual director. He is a pastoral counselor. That means he has training both in theology and therapy. Until recently I hadn't known such people existed. So when depression strikes, as it has of late, he will also be able to help me deal with that also.

I've never had spiritual direction and I'm a little nervous about it. Not knowing exactly what to expect, but hoping for the best, I've been thinking about what spirituality means to me. How do I want to address it? This is why I started reading the book. I worry if my religious beliefs will come into conflict with his. This is one question I must ask to ascertain if we will be a good fit. The gender issue may come into play. What other areas or topics might we discuss that will make me uncomfortable? To give my thoughts some focus I went to beliefnet.com and took their spirituality test. It didn't cover all the questions I'm so concerned about but it did give me a better idea of what my beliefs about spirituality were. That should help.

On the therapy side, I saw the same therapist for 7 years. She is good and was very effective for me at the beginning. Last year I stopped because 1) I wanted to feel well and did, 2) if I was to continue therapy I wanted to take it someplace she wasn't prepared to go. You build up relationships with your therapist just like you do with a doctor. So part of me is feeling a little guilty about changing therapists. Another concern is, "How much old ground will I have to cover with this new therapist to reach an effective place?" Additionally, knowing my tendency to jump into things without thinking them through first, I wonder if I haven't done the same here.

My insurance has set me up for an initial visit and 6 follow-ups. That is a reasonable time to do some work and find out if we fit. Unless of course, it doesn't work out on day one. If that happens I'm back to square one and pastoral counselors that are on your insurance's provider list are somewhat rare. So, I'm praying today that God will provide and all will work out well.

The Invitation by Oriah Mountain Dreamer

The other day I was looking for poetry pages and stumbled upon the poetry of Oriah. Her work is absolutely amazing. In reading "The Invitation" I discovered that what I want to know about people, especially those I love deeply, was something that she felt too. Oriah expressed the desire to know the soul of someone so much better than I ever could that I want to share her poem with you. She has other writings and poetry on her webpage, so I hope you will go there discover the richness of her work.

The Invitation

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.
I want to know what you ache for
and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are.
I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon...
I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like the company you keep
in the empty moments.

© Mountaindreaming, from the book The Invitation published by HarperSanFrancisco, 1999 All rights reserved

Poetry Workshop

St. Mark's Episcopal church sponsored a wonderful poetry workshop at Church of Reconciliation Episcopal today. Attending and directing it was Enedina Vasquez who is a wonderful poet and a really good glass artist. We also had the Reverend Mary Earle who is loved by many Episcopalians in my church and at St. Mark's. She too is a wonderfully spiritual poet and a very good preacher. The Sharing Spiritual Practices Workshop Saturdays which they are leading are a real blessing. I learned more about writing poetry as a connection to my spirit, my past and my growth in 4 hours than I ever learned in school. From the moment they started the air seemed to breathe words and I found myself writing poetry even before the writing exercises began.

After the nice opening and prayer, Mary Earle read a couple of poems and then handed the program over to Enedina. Enedina read mostly from her own works and they were wonderful multidimensional paintings of people she knew growing up and how life had changed them and her. In her poetry you could hear the whole community speaking as she tied everyone together.

Then we started looking at words. We started with "Door." We described it and told what it did and how it sounded. When we were done the dry write board was covered with words that tied door to images from our lives and experiences. After that she asked us to write our own ribbon poem. To help us keep a ribbon in focus she gave us each a ribbon of paper and we wrote our poems upon it. Some people used both sides. Mine took just one and revisited the childhood birthday story.

Ribbons

The ribbon wrapped around the gift for the birthday party.
It wasn't my party and the ribbon tied me
to the car with fear of being at the wrong house.
Even today that ribbon binds the gifts I want to give
Locked inside the loops that only I can untangle
to be there in the right place with the right offering.


We shared some of our poems and all were good. Many were so beautiful that we were thrilled and oohed and aahed with delight. Then after a short break we were invited to step out to the Reconciliation garden to write about it and how it spoke to us. We were also instructed to write about a garden we knew. I wish I could remember all the ones that came out of that exercise. Some of them were truly gifted writing and worthy of publishing.

Spirits in the Garden

Swirling mass of white dots
not quite seen out of
the corner of my eye.
This is the closest I can get
to seeing the spirits
gathered here.
I'd heard about them from others
and wanted to meet one,
the fantasy of my heart
connecting with the perpetuity of God

Green and lush with a wind
that whispers through
The water pouring out of
and onto the stone of life
in a world so hardened by greed
that eons pass before it is broken down.

Down to the dust
from which we were made
and to which we return.
Scattered here to remember
and remind
those left behind.

That life goes on
connected through death's door
to a garden where
Masses of swirling white dots meet
not quite seen
out of the corner of my eye.


That poem led to another where the garden was more inside, more personal and better known. I wasn't the only one who came up with more than one poem in that garden. We were encouraged to consider these ongoing works; works in progress. Enedina asked us to keep on working on these and to keep in touch with her. She really liked what we had done and the uniqueness of each soul there was beautifully displayed in a sharing of our love and joy in the life we had lived and even the tears as we conquered the hard times of sorrow and loss.

Many Colored Garden

In the garden of my soul you'll find
shy violets
red roses that climb
small blue flowers whose name I can't recall

Such are the colors of my heart,
mixed in with the green of life
and the brown of death and decay
from which soil all new life
must take nourishment and grow.

Breaking through the door to greet the Son
is the struggle that makes
life worth living for
If life only grew from life we might
never know death and if
we didn't know death
Eternal life would have no meaning.

Oh but that struggle to
rise above death, dust, failure, sin
is SO hard
That when at last I
see the Son I
weep with joy
My tears watering the
shy violets
red roses that climb
and the blue flowers
Whose name I can't recall.


The next workshop will be one on making scared spaces and is scheduled for March. I hope to be there. I've been looking for a way to build an alter in my small apartment and am looking forward to finding a chance to bring God closer in my home.

Spicey Decadence

Ah, Chocolate! My favorite food! It soothes my soul, calms my spirit, indulges me, takes my mouth on an exotic vacation, and I'd probably wear it if I could.

There's something spiritual about my love of chocolate. So it seems totally appropriate that Body & Soul has a wonderful chocolate recipe on their website. I want to share this recipe with you. Like Emeril, it kicks things up a notch.

Linking to the recipe didn't work. Apparently a login process took place when I clicked on my email. Copy and paste doesn't space quite the way I want but I'm not experienced enough with html to change the table structure. Please forgive the lengthy scroll and Enjoy!

Spiced Hot Dark Chocolate

Serves 4; Prep time: 5 minutes; total time: 10 minutes

By swapping soy milk for regular, you ensure that dark chocolate's antioxidants will be more fully absorbed.

1 quart soy milk 6 ounces dark chocolate, coarsely chopped 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon 1/8 to 1/4 teaspoon ground cardamom 1/8 teaspoon ground cayenne pepper 1/8 teaspoon coarse salt 1. In a small saucepan, combine all ingredients and whisk over medium-low heat until the chocolate has melted completely and the mixture is steaming hot, about 5 minutes. Serve. Per serving: 327 calories; 14 g protein; 17 g fat; 38 g carb; 6 g fiber.

Reflections on Life of the Beloved

Please don't expect any great insights on today's subject. In school I am doing reflections on things that have to do with teaching. So it seems logical to reflect on what I am learning in church and Sunday school. That's all this is, a reflection with questions being more readily available than answers.

Today my Sunday school class continued to study Life of the Beloved by Henri J.M. Nouwen. The lesson covered the first chapter and part of the second in which the author talks about quieting those voices which say to work harder, accomplish something, make a difference and then you will be loved/lovable. Nouwen tells us that when we listen closely to that still small voice we will hear that we are the beloved and need not do anything extra to become that person to God and others.

That is so hard for so many of us to accept. When I started sharing with the class on my upbringing and how it said to work harder, show what you could do, be right or be a failure (no grey, only black and white views here), I saw many heads nodding. It seems I wasn't the only person to be brought up with messages that said I had to work hard to be worthy.

Earlier, during the sermon and lesson, the scripture was about giving up our lives to gain them. I found myself asking all kinds of questions about what this meant. I feel loved by God. He keeps giving me gifts and blessings which speak of his love of me. What I don't have is the feeling of having made any real sacrifice. In light of what Nouwen is saying, that is probably my parental voice saying, "Work harder. Be worthy. Make a difference. Sacrifice!" In reality my sacrifice is already made. I did give up my life. It doesn't seem terribly sacrificial to me when I think about it. But when I chose to follow Jesus' teachings and considered what God wanted me to be doing when making choices in my life that is exactly what I was doing. I sacrificed my self control for God's. Since giving up my choices to God, he has chosen to reward me with signs of his favor and love.

"That's too easy!" a guilty voice in my heart whispers. Why is it so hard to give up the idea of a heavy burden when making a sacrifice to God? Why can't we easily still those voices when listening to God call us the beloved? Someone in class said that being the beloved doesn't mean a life free from pain and struggle, and while everyone agreed with that we also agreed that it does mean a life filled with bright spots that give us moments of Peace, Hope and Joy.

It occurs to me that if we listened more to that still, small voice we would have lives filled with joy. Susan, of Rickety Contrivances, left a lovely comment on my last post about love in which she talks about how she knows love from other people and God. It took me two readings of her comment to realize that she did indeed say that God tells her she is loved. "Sorry, Susan!" In Sunday school one of the members spoke humorously about how she is her own worst enemy when it comes to seeing the love of God in the actions of others in her life. Another member of the class asked a question that indicated his processes were all logical on this subject. When I hear from God that I am loved it has little to do with logic. For me, love is a feeling, and I have spent way too little time analyzing feelings logically. Was it the logic in Susan's statement that made it hard for me to hear? Whatever, it is her ability to analyze feelings that makes her such a good writer. Perhaps it is time for me to start doing that. Would that make me a better listener?

So, as stated in the beginning of this post, no conclusions. Just more questions. But this subject is an ongoing study and will probably be revisited. Peace!

Things in 3s & the importance of Love

Do messages come in 3s? I've heard that all my life. There's a book on my list of "to read(s)" because it came to my attention 3 times in one day. The book is The Road Less Traveled. I was redoing my bookshelves and it caught my attention as something I wanted to finish reading. Then my preacher mentioned it in his sermon the next morning. Later that same Sunday the Sunday school teacher also mentioned it. So I put it where I would be reminded to read it because it seemed that it might be important to do so. I kind of figured maybe God was trying to get my attention with it.

Lately, I think I have another set of 3s. My favorite cousin has been writing me and one of the things he made sure I knew was that he loved me for who and what I am and didn't think I needed any improvement or changes to be made better. Have I mentioned that I love this cousin unreservedly? He is always good to and for me even when we don't see or hear from each other for a while. Another part of this 3-some is having finished the book The Four Agreements by Miguel Ruiz. It tells me that I can love myself by getting rid of nasty "agreements" to believe what my "domesticators" told me when I was growing up. It says that I am lovable, unique and beautiful just as I am and don't need to punish myself for not being something I am not. Come to think of it, my spiritual director says the same thing. (g) The third part of this 3-some is the new book I am starting to read, from a Sunday school class, called Life of the Beloved by Henri J. M. Nouwen. It tells me God loves me just as he loved Jesus and I can think of myself as "the beloved" just as God declared Christ to be beloved when John baptized him.

When I see this kind of thing happening in my life I think God must be trying to tell me something. In this case the message seems fairly obvious. I am also wondering what this will lead to. Is it just to make a better and happier me, or do I need to love myself so that I might love others better? Probably both. Seldom have I seen God do something that didn't have multiple implications or affects. Sometimes I get kind of tunnel visioned so, if you think you see something else here for me to think about please feel free to contribute it.

In the meantime there are a lot of questions surrounding this. Is it important to love yourself? How do you know you are loved? What does it feel like? Where do you hear those messages that say you are loved? Those are questions that were raised in Sunday school. I am still working on an answer to some of them. And of course, I still need to finish reading the book.

For me being loved is kind of like sudden peace. I am relieved and don't have to worry about impressing anyone or doing something to earn it. Suddenly I can breath. It is kind of ridiculous to believe that you can earn love, or so I am told. Love is supposed to be a gift. But I was raised to be grateful for gifts and to give one back. Does an obligation negate the love? Is the obligation real or just a social nicety that can be ignored if necessary? Have I ever been able to earn love? Not that I can recall. What I recall from my efforts was imperfections that destroyed any good feelings I might have gained from them. That makes me ask, what is it about love that makes us want to do something to earn it? Why do we feel unlovable? The messages that say I am loved come from God, friends and family. Yes I think it is important to love yourself. If you don't how can you know that you are beautiful to anyone including yourself and how can you love anyone else if you don't know what it feels like? I once heard a definition of how love works. Not what it is but how it works. It said that love works like this: I want loving feelings from you so I am going to change my behavior and do the things that get you to do the things that make me feel loved. I'm not sure that has any part in a philosophical discussion on love. YMMV

Obviously I'm not going to come up with any great insights here. At the moment there are more questions than answers. Do I believe that I am loved? Yes, I do. I believe because I heard God tell me when I believed. Other people tell me they love me too. Do I feel lovable? That's harder to say yes to. I wasn't raised on unconditional love even though my faith tells me it exists and it is central to my belief system. So once again I ask, how do you know you are loved? And maybe more importantly, how can you know you are lovable? And please forgive me if I seem to have been repititious here. Things just keep circling back to how we define love and how we see ourselves.

Peace!

Birthday parties and being in the right place

When I was a child, being taken to a birthday party was scary. That sounds ridiculous! Birthday parties are fun! Yet there I would be, present in hand, getting dropped off and encouraged by my mom to go knock on the door of an unfamiliar house (this was probably 1st or 2nd grade). My knees always trembled when going to that door alone. "What if it's the wrong door? What if Mom's made a mistake and it's the wrong house or the wrong day?" If that happened I would have been so embarrassed. I would've been "wrong!" It was very stressful.

Eventually, I got over it and learned to knock on doors without fear, until my marriage broke up and the fear came back. Getting left does not make for great self-confidence. You feel "wrong" all over again. I've always wondered why I have that particular fear. For many years I couldn't think of a reason. Then on Sunday I felt that feeling again and suddenly remembered a childhood experience from when I was even younger.

One night back when I was 2, my parents went out with friends and left me, and their friends' kids, with a sitter. When our parents came back I ran to my father, threw my arms about his knees, and called him Daddy. It wasn't Daddy! It was someone else's father. My memory tells me that I was very angry about this. What I suspect is, I was horribly embarrassed and everyone laughed at my discomfort while trying to reassure me that all was okay. It must have been really harmful to my child's self-esteem to go to the wrong parent. When you are that young your entire world revolves around those two people. And there I was, running to the wrong person.

Now that I've remembered this I think I can start to winnow that fear out of my system. I have some kind of reason for it. How long can a bad experience last? Quite a while it seems.

When I sat in church Sunday morning and tried to focus my thoughts, I found myself feeling like I was wrong all over again. It was really unsettling. I love God and I love going to church. Yet there I was wondering if I was "wrong" and didn't belong there. My best guess for the trigger for this time was a dream of rejection I had the night before. My reaction was to concentrate harder on the lesson and pray. The lesson was the one where Jesus says we must eat his flesh and drink his blood or we don't have life in us. So there I was pondering on the existence of flesh and blood in the Eucharist. When we got to the part where you take communion I was glad to receive it. It felt very important today. I also prayed, asking God for help with this fear. I asked for eyes that saw him clearly and didn't mistake someone else for him. It helped some, but I don't want to walk my faith always wondering if I am on the right path. And I never want to listen to someone who is not God directing my life in ways that seem good but may not be.

If this sounds like more talk about discernment, it is. I think I am coming to realize just how important discernment is, even about ourselves. And how difficult it can be. If I know one thing about myself it is that no one can mess me up as thoroughly as I can. My Spiritual Director says that is true of most of us. When our childhood experiences, or our adult ones, affect us so that we don't see clearly, we can find ourselves lost and wandering around trying to not go to the wrong place. Have I mentioned that I get lost easily? I have a poor sense of direction and prefer very clear, detailed maps for trips and life in general. That isn't always possible. So, now that I am concerned about staying on the course God sets for me, I will have to get better at recognizing his voice (as opposed to others including childhood fears) and reading the signs he sets on my path. Since Cursillo, God seems to be telling me things several times until I get the message, exhibit the needed change of heart, and move in the right direction. Trusting my gut wasn't something I learned to do as a child (poor self-esteem) so this lesson may take awhile. It takes 27 times to build a new habit, and even though I never learned to listen to that still small voice in the midst of activity...I am trying to!

Peace.

Voices in our heads and from our hearts

Disclaimer - I'm not a prayer warrior. Effective prayers and long hours on my knees aren't my forte. And I am not going to be sharing any great secrets or insight here. But if you've ever had God answer back you know the joy of hearing his voice. That joy makes me want to share, but I realize that not everyone is comfortable hearing about prayer and voices from God. So if that will upset you please don't read any further. I promise not to be offended if you help me to not offend you by going elsewhere. Ok...disclaimer finished.

Sometimes, hearing voices in our heads isn't a good thing. That being said, God speaks to those who listen. And he listens when we answer back.

When Martin spoke of that still small voice I knew just what he was talking about. Many faithful people do. It means we are listening. We listen with our hearts, not our ears. We are hoping to hear from God. Sometimes we do. And when we answer back, we speak with our hearts, minds, voices and sometimes our bodies. God listens to them all.

We are also supposed to listen with our minds. When God speaks to me I am supposed to use discernment to know that it really is God who is speaking and not my own emotions. Sometimes this isn't hard to do. His voice has a distinct feel and flavor. The message I hear is usually in-line with the things I know of God from scripture. Seldom has he spoken in a way that didn't have multiple consequences. His words and meaning spread out from the primary message like the rings one gets from a pebble dropped in a pool of still water. Sometimes, however, I want to hear his voice so much and want something so bad that I can create my own voice and that is when it is hard. When I want a good result based on what I want, and not on what God has in mind, then I can find myself hearing a voice and not knowing for sure if it is God. I know enough about scripture to make the message logical. When that happens, even my efforts at discernment fail. Hopefully yours are better.

Does God's voice sound the same every time you hear it? It doesn't to me. His voice takes many forms. So I guess it seems normal to me to speak back in more than one way.

When we talk to God we use many different voices. These voices come from our heads, our hearts, our guts (especially when they ache), our needs, our wants, and hopefully our joys. Scripture talks about tongues and also about a special language that only the indwelling spirit and God understand. But tongues mean voices as well as language and it is as natural to sing our prayers as to weep them or rant at the heavens. I've even had a friend tell me of visualizing your prayer and just sending the picture heavenward.

A few years back I sang my prayers. This was during the 80's when Praise songs were so popular. I think they still are but they have moved into a different genre. Those songs can be sung repetitiously and that is very conducive to meditating on the message they are giving which is usually very simple. It would be me in the car, on a trip, and singing songs of praise while I drove. After a while, I'd get so in touch with the spirit that the need for formal song would stop and I'd start singing whatever my heart felt like saying to God, and using what ever melody popped into my head. It was a kind of free form song and never had any real verses, although once God did give me a praise song. That was a form of exultation in the joy of life in the spirit.

Last Lenten season my church held a "come pray with us" series of classes which taught different forms of prayer. We had contemplative prayer, lectia divino (please forgive any misspellings), prayer of the senses, and guided imagery. All of it was wonderful and I learned a lot in each class. During that period they opened the labyrinth (maze for those who call it that) and we even did some Christian yoga one evening.

For me motion is akin to prayer and, because I love music, dance is often the form it takes. When the rhythm and flow of the melody invades my being, my body becomes a conduit for the expression of life. The beat is my heart beat and my breath. The flow of the melody is my motion; arms, feet, and body taking flight as I express what I feel in a very focused and yet totally free form.

So do I think I can dance? LOL Not really. I never got a lot of training so my form and style are definitely amateur. But when I start to move to music which excites me it doesn't matter. It is sheer exultation and self expression. It is thanking God for life. And I'm okay with that.

If you have a favorite form of prayer or an answer story I hope you will share it.

Peace, Hope, and Joy!

Mountains where you least expect them...

My friend, Susan, posted a wonderful homily entitled "Coming Down the Mountain". In it she talks about how we must come down from the mountain, a high spiritual plateau, to deal with day to day life in all its struggle and needs. I love how she can bring the spiritual to our realities. Yesterday I had my own mountain of sorts. It wasn't quite what I had envisioned, but then reality seldom is.

My mountain was the desire to be strong and self reliant. God can help with a lot of life's challenges but you need to take care of your responsibilities too. In my efforts to see myself as strong I went beyond what was reasonable. Heck, I went beyond what was safe.

Living near the Hill Country there are lots of beautiful places you can go explore. You can enjoy the beauty of God in the untamed wilderness or on somewhat prepared and marked nature walks. There is such a walk on church property in the town of Wimberley. I had been up there before and wanted to go again. It felt so good up there in that beautiful place that I thought I would enjoy doing the 2 mile nature walk that is maintained by members of the church. So, on Saturday morning I got a bottle of water, put on my hat and walking shoes, and headed off to Wimberley. I thought I had planned carefully.

When I got to the church the time was no longer early morning and the temperature was headed into the 90's. There were breezes blowing though, I had my water, and there were lots of trees for shade so I thought I would be ok. I considered taking my cell phone but then didn't because if I had wanted to call for help I had no one in Wimberley that I knew to call and the town is far enough from my own that 911 wouldn't have gotten me anywhere. So I left it in the car.

The trail starts with a map that shows a couple of short cuts which will bring you quickly back to the beginning. So I thought I would just do the first small loop. It was less than half a mile. What I hadn't known was that along the trail there were Stations of the Cross markers. Those quickly hooked me in and I decided to do the stations. That meant walking the entire 2 mile trail. There were benches frequently along the way so I would be able to rest if needed. One of the neat things about this particular trail is that it is lit at night. You can walk it 24/7. Wow, doing Stations of the Cross by starlight!

I love Stations of the Cross. It is a truly moving and emotion filled ritual that always brings me closer to God. While walking these I found myself considering the need for self reliance and the possibility of being a single Christian. This isn't the type of life I imagine having. I would much prefer to find a lifemate and spend our lives together growing in faith and service to God. But it is a possibility. Enough of one to make me sad. I spent some time on that walk both communing with God about it and trying to come to terms with that possible fate. The stress of that had me in a rather emotional place when I got to the last of the stations. Realizing that you need to depend on God for something, instead of yourself, isn't conducive to feeling strong and self reliant. I didn't think that had anything to do with my nature walk. Maybe I was wrong.

Everything had been going fine until I got to the end of the stations. The beginning of them and the end tend to overlap at that point on the trail. The arrows on the occasional sign didn't really help me decide which way to go and the numbers somehow got confusing at that point. I ended up walking in a couple of circles and also some back and forth along the trail as I would start in one direction and then decide that was the wrong way to go and head back the way I had just come. After doing this a little while I realized I was lost. That was scary.

It is amazing how easily I can get lost. I don't do north, south, east and west. I do right and left. I have gotten lost driving around in a two block area. That is so ridiculous. What on earth can you do in a two block area but figure eights? It makes me really mad at myself when I don't navigate correctly. So here is my self-reliance going down the drain. Sheesh.

I started praying on that trail. Visions of sitting on a bench till anyone came along wasn't making me feel at all safe. Who knew when someone would next decide to walk that trail? By now it was noon and the temperature, my distress, plus a bit of exhaustion had my heart pounding. I started trying to be smart. I looked for those shortcuts. I found them but they didn't seem to help. I would find myself on the same path again but at a different point.

Eventually I found a fence line which showed me a road. That wasn't quite right but it got me closer to the church. I could see the buildings off in the distance. I started looking for a certain sign that had shown me the way in...it had a different type of arrow. I never did find that one but I did find one of the lights that the church had set in. Suddenly I remembered that the lights at the beginning had been really huge and on poles. So I started looking for those. It was the lights that took me to the end of the trail. I was not immune to the thought that God was "being a light unto my path."

When I reached my car it was after noon and I was exhausted, sweating, my heart was pounding, and my foot was trying to cramp. I sat down in the door of my car and just breathed. There was a truck with a couple of church members parked in front of the buildings nearby. That turned out to be the church Sexton and a friend of his. They spotted me and came over. They noticed how tired I was looking and I guess my face was rather flushed. The man took charge (so much for self reliance). After getting the story from me, he had me sit in my car and turn on the a/c. He asked if I needed anything. I asked for ice water so he got in his truck and headed off to find me some. He returned soon with two large glasses full of it. That was so good. I drank one and poured the other one over my head splashing it on my face and arms. I realize now that I had been near heat exhaustion. When I had cooled down, wasn't feeling weak anymore, and had reassured this kind man that I was ok, I got in my car and headed home.

I did make it home safe and mostly sound. After getting some food in me I went straight to bed and slept. Later I emailed the only person I knew that attended that church to ask if he would let my Good Samaritan know that I was ok.

The process of coming to terms with that experience isn't quite over. Part of me wants to deny how real the danger was. Another part of me wants to thank God for helping me through it and keeping me safe. I still have some self reflection to do on the need to take care of the things I can affect and still leave room for God's guidance and intervention whether needed or if it just happens. Most importantly to my self esteem I need to not see myself as helpless or incapable of handling life's challenges. More importantly to my faith I need to find that focus where I listen to that still small voice which tells me when something isn't the best choice.

So there is my mountain, my own self-esteem and God's will. It is amazing how much God's good care will allow us to recover from disastrous situations and still feel like intelligent, capable human beings. The few friends I have told showed concern but not condemnation. That would have been something I might have expected from my father. So in this I am doubly blessed by God's love and the love of caring and clear sighted friends. And Thank God for the occasional Good Samaritan. May I always run into one of those when I need them and hopefully someday I will have the chance to pass that favor forward.

Comics and Ritual

When I was married I was blessed with a husband who had a really good sense of humor. Among the things we liked to do was share the daily comics. We each had our favorites and managed to work out a way where we could swap pages and not hog them. Occasionally I would cut one out and post it on the fridge as a weekly reminder of humor or the commentary it so jokingly gave on life.

Recently my church showed a series of tapes called "Discovering Everyday Spirituality". These tapes were narrated by Thomas Moore and were very good at reminding me of the things I loved as a child, which spoke of how good my world was back then. The tapes each had a topic. These were story, place, activity, and ritual. In each of these everyday things we can find peace, character, and value for our lives today. How I start my mornings has ritual. It has meaning to me. Until I considered it in light of these videos I had forgotten where I got some of those rituals.

When I was a child my grandmother and I used to sit and read the funny papers (50's lingo for comics) together. It was one of our rituals. Time spent in an activity that we both loved and felt richer for doing together. This was the basis for my sharing comics with my husband. It is the basis for my starting my day with 3 of my favorites online. It has meaning for me beyond the simple act of reading something amusing.

Today I was reading one of my favorites, Rose is Rose, and suddenly thought of that spirituality series. The funny showed Rose going out to find the bag of garbage her husband had been dutifully taking to the trashcan sitting on the ground. As she picked it up and completed the job you saw Jimbo headed off into one of what was no doubt a favorite activity. It was one of mine as a child. He was chasing fireflies. You almost never see these lovely reminders of nature's wonder anymore. The text read, "Fireflies account for almost three percent of 'garbage moment' interruptions." (chuckle) Suddenly I was catapulted back to the time when as a child my parents and grandparents would be sitting in lawn chairs watching my sister and I chase fireflies around the neighbor's yard. There was my place, activity, ritual and story. What a lovely reminder of the spirituality you can find in everyday things.

I took the liberty of printing off that comic to post on a wall I am building of things I want to do and be mindful of. If you have favorite comic strips I hope you get as much joy and history out of them as I do mine.

Peace, Joy and Hope!

Symbols and self-definition

A few days ago I went on a trip with a friend to the Cibolo Nature Center. This is a beautiful place with a nice walking trail and lots of trees. My friend, who is a nature photographer by trade, brought along two very good cameras and let me have one to play with. It was a Canon. It had a lens on it which could go near macro, telephoto and wide angle. I was impressed. I wasn't so impressed with the results of my artistic efforts. Even with less than great photographic results I had a lot of fun.

Near the end of the trail we came across some sotol cactus which is native to the southwest. The stem of the blossoms makes a long thick staff which, when cut and dried, is incredibly light and very strong. Experienced hikers value it highly as a walking stick. I've wanted one for a long time. My naturalist friend gave me an old one he had. I grabbed hold of it and promptly got a hand full of splinters. Ouch! Restoration efforts on my part didn't improve it much.

Going online I found a place that made walking sticks from sotol and customized them with wood burnings and other decorations. What was promised was a walking stick that was a work of art which would be personally meaningful to the recipient. After discussing possible repair of the stick we decided that it was too far gone to be worth the effort. So I started the process of purchasing one.

This artist really gets into making the stick meaningful for you. Tell him your favorite symbols and he will put them on the stick. Picking out personal symbols was a great experience. In doing so I learned about myself and what I value.

We started with my name in Celtic letters. Those were beautiful and I have a little Scottish and English in my ancestral history. Another reason for the Celtic is, my church seems focused on those symbols of faith, renewal, and spirituality. Often they represent the connection between God and nature. Untamed, natural places have always drawn me.

Keeping with the God in nature theme I wanted something that embodied that in a very strong way. We settled on a greenman image. You can find that on lots of pagan pages but the Christian church uses it as an ancient symbol of renewal. To me it looks wild and powerful. My father and I used to sit on our porch and watch storms blow in. This was a special time for me. Feeling the electricity in the air and seeing the wind whip the trees I'd get excited. I still like to do storm watches. When it starts to rain I open the windows of my home to let in the cool, damp air that's being created as God washes the world. It makes everything around me feel new and good.

The artist had some Native American symbols on his page. From his "soul-catcher" sticks I chose a strand of beads. These will be seven in number and mostly green which symbolizes healing. I am asking for a few lavendar ones for spirituality.

Now I am waiting for my stick. Creation will take 6 days. He promises to send photographs along the way to show the progress. I am excited. If this turns out well I will post a link to his web page here and elsewhere.

So what did I get from that? Well, the reminder that nature inspires me and makes me feel alive was good. It is an area where I can enrich my life by trying to spend more time in it. Defining my values with symbols was part self-reflection part creation. When you define something you give it form and direction. Having done so for my stick I feel I have also done that for my life. Knowing what you value and think of as good gives you an image of yourself to love. Knowing that God loves me is good but; if I don't love myself, if I can't hold onto what he sees in me, I can't hold onto the belief in God's love for very long. The first hard knock would cause me to slide away from that knowledge. So I think that defining myself in good images will help me hold onto a loving image of myself. One I think fits in with what God sees in me. And if I can love myself as God does, unreservedly, then I will be able to stop focusing on myself and start focusing on others.