SPIRITUAL NURTURE FOR THE INTERIOR JOURNEY, CONNECTING HEARTS & SOULS

Friday, December 4, 2015

Life without Spirit IS crazy

For three months I was crazy busy, so I gave up my blog. Temporarily, I told myself. For the following three months I’ve been, well, crazy. Without it and the chance to process life.

Something tells me that exposing my vulnerability has a resonance with others. Plus, six months of looking for exterior validation has just about done me in.

I jumped this ship for a university marketing job The first month was heaven. Then I partnered with a nice, smart guy with little marketing background, but a Ph.d in process. We reported to an IT guy, also congenial, but very busy, hands off and reliant on my partner. So I busied myself writing and not shaping the marketing plan as I had been told. Along the way, I learned that the last three marketing directors had been fired. My perspective changed.

I am proud of the work I did accomplish, especially connecting with students from a high-needs high school. In fact, one of the young men continues to check in with me. He has so much promise and we bonded over the drive home from the end-of-camp celebration. His parents, immigrants from Somalia, were busy working. The fact that I knew his neighborhood, where I used to live, surprised him. He moved here not speaking a word of English. He’s since absorbed so much, blossoming in the STEM (science, technology, engineering and math) curriculum at Hughes High School. He’s a year between my daughters, so I have been coaching him on what to expect senior year. He texted me on Thanksgiving and I wrote back that his friendship had been a gift.

I also drafted content for a special-education website, wrapping it with the personal story of an amazing young woman who lives with autism. I serendipitously ran into her mother at a family function and asked how her children were doing. Julia was at UC on a non-degree track. I knew she must be in one of the program I had been writing about. She agreed to tell me her story, which really personalized the web copy, and touched my heart.

And I made a wonderful new friend, a talented young graphic designer from China. Toward the end of my tenure, instead of working through lunch, we found a shady bank of tables near the library and shared our lives over food; typically a salad for me and some wonderfully spicy Chinese leftovers for her. She has expanded my worldview, for which my life is richer. I am still struck with one conversation about the effect of China’s one-child rule. Fei-Fei says her generation feels abandoned because they had no siblings. She infused her frustration over tedious immigration regulations and snafus with candor, charm and humor. I learned what it’s like to be here as an outsider, grateful for the opportunity and working hard. She has little sympathy for illegal immigrants.

The gig ended with the verbal promise of freelance work. I am still awaiting that call, though I am back to some of the amazing work I was doing at the beginning of the summer as a freelancer.

This fall, applied for a graduate writing fellowship feeling very confident in my proposal only to learn I was the alternate. That was crushing, though the program director has promised to provide feedback and lauded me for my passionate entry.

Just before Thanksgiving, I spotted a marketing job at a growing arts center that sounded perfect. I heard back almost instantly, but the salary had no business being advertised as director-level compensation. I let that one go immediately.

Out of the blue this week, I received word that a devotional entry I had sent a year ago was being published in a global collection. They asked us to promote it like crazy. I complied and trumpeted my success on Facebook. Two days later, another e-mail arrived saying they had made a mistake, I had not been included. I was livid, mostly embarrassed, because I had tooted my own horn. Now, what do I do? I asked.

Irritated, I trotted off to an advent evening of reflection with a spiritual buddy. She kindly let me unload. We do that for each other. We listened to readings of the Christmas story centered on Mary and responded to queries. They helped me see that I took some time away for practical things and I am on the next step of the journey whether or not it’s obvious to me. A few spare lines in an adapted Magnificat, song of Mary, stopped me cold as we recited them together.

You have blessed me lavishly and make me ready to respond. You shatter my little world and let me be poor before you.

You take from me all my plans and give me more than I can hope for or ask. You give me opportunities and the ability to become free and to burst through my boundaries.

How can I serve? I was forced to offer.

I took a long walk home from the gym this morning, reconnecting with Spirit. When I returned, I found a heartening response in my inbox about the devotional. I want to share this exchange:

Hi, Cathy, 
I'm so very sorry for the social media predicament my
mistake has caused you, especially after all your
trouble to help publicize the book. It was a very
human error and mea culpa completely for selecting
the wrong group in our e-newsletter system.
Humbly,
 
Dawn
I am trying to look at this in a spiritual light – for myself – and the message seems to be to look inward at God and not be so tied to external affirmation. Not an easy lesson, but a necessary one nevertheless. So thank you for helping me see that.
Appreciatively,
-- Cathy
Hi, Cathy,
I really appreciate your sharing that with me. Hopefully soon it’ll be something I can write about as a grace-lesson in my own life, but for now eating humble pie is not so savory. Still it’s a good lesson in my frailty and need for grace!
Blessings,
Dawn

Thank you, dear reader, for allowing me this journey. I feel re-centered as a result.

• What happens when I stop a regular spiritual practice?
• How do I let life get in the way of being with God?
• How do I let life dictate who I am?
• How can I return to looking within and letting Spirit tell me?
• How can I model Mary’s quiet servitude?


spinning
spinning
spinning

so busy and out
of control
in life

thinking this
is normal

buying
back in

forgetting
what centers
me, reminds
me

that life without
Spirit
IS crazy



Saturday, May 30, 2015

Together in Spirit

The place Dan and Donne reside in my heart and how we are connected via Spirit
Soon, I will have to release another sacred friend and Quaker minister from my life and heart. The first time, seven years ago, was traumatic. Dan had been my friend, monthly sharing a cup of tea when my kids were little, stumbling over them as they grew and even writing a message (short sermon) about the time when Autumn, just potty trained, offered to sit and hold his hand while he used the bathroom. "Everything I learned about ministering, I learned from Autumn," I think he titled it.


Dan was VERY hard to let go of because he was the first person whom I could trust to talk about deep spiritual things, like the time I drove home from the Quaker Meeting and felt every red light and reflector glare at me as if evil or when I confessed I wasn't sure who Jesus was to me and he responded, "Me, either."

In the last year or so, we have gotten back in touch and it has been a joy. Over time, I learned to understand that the complete separation was necessary.

Necessary so I and my Meeting could establish rapport with a new minister, who happened to be Donne. I had been tasked with serving on a selection committee when, suddenly and separately, two people became acquainted with a recent Earlham School of Religion (Quaker) graduate serving a Unitarian congregation part-time. I met Donne on her first interview and was physically moved by Spirit to know she was the one for us. I was so convinced that, when our selection committee met in worship, I felt my heart being squeezed and knew Spirit was offering Donne as a gift. The person next to me said she had felt it as well. So clear that I stood aside, as Quakers say, and removed myself from the committee so they could continue their work. I would not change my mind. Another Friend was equally certain the search should continue. Eventually, Donne was hired.

Now, her cycle has ended. In a rare spate, I've missed three weeks of worship and touch with what is happening in my Meeting. I called Donne this afternoon, driving home from my new job. I wanted to catch her up on what was going on and suggest that, because of the new situation, I may not make all of the ministry retreat this weekend. She told me she was was tied up in a transaction and would call back.

Intuitively, I knew she was buying the RV she had mentioned months ago. She had dreamed of traveling. However, I hadn't quite made the connection that she was leaving.

We caught up earlier this evening at the retreat, which Dan was also scheduled to attend. Coincidence? Donne got a call a week ago that the simple-but-popular RV she wanted had walked onto the lot, did she want it? Yes, she'd said. If not, three others were in line behind her.

It's her time to be free. "Sounds like you've been released," I said, instantly recognizing that my ministry has been given the same message in the last week.

In her exit letter, Donne writes "... I must let go of you and ask you to let go of me. In other words, I have been your minister–a friendly one, I hope–but now someone else will be called to be your minister ... I will miss you deeply and love you always."

"Can I do this again, God? This is the second person I've counted on to discuss deep things I rarely share with others. Dan and Donne have both seen the real me and have helped me see it in myself."

Yet, I know her cycle is over and it is time for her to move on from her ministry and into the unknown just as I am. Separated, but together, we will trust Spirit to guide us. That will always unite us.

• How do I say goodbye?
• Who was the first person with whom I could have profound spiritual discussions?
• How do I value that gift?
• How have I learned to let go?
• How do I trust Spirit in my own life and in others I love?


she came in on
a whisp

arriving just
as we needed her

like Mary Poppins

as we grieved our
previous loss,

we saw she possessed
different gifts

gifts we sorely 
needed

she had this way
of flowing in and
around like water

wherever
she was needed

showing us the way

as Spirit is showing
her now,

only in a direction
a part from us


Listen to this post:





















Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Madly gifted

Liminal space – I was introduced to that concept when I attended the School of the Spirit from 2004-6 for spiritual-nurture ministry. The term oozed attraction. I know that space, but never had a name for it.

Literally, it means the sill of a doorway, a point of entering or beginning. Scientifically, it suggests the point at which stimulus is intense enough to produce an effect, such as the threshold of consciousness or the threshold of pain.

I discover it to be the in-between place, when one thing has ended and another has not yet begun. For me, it is usually a sacred place, the time and space in which I especially tap God's help because I don't know what is next or yet to come. A place of rest AND trust.

My best friend recently teased me that I always like the transitional times: in life, the change of seasons, between sleep and wakefulness, the plane between spiritual and material. She is right. I tend to live there more often than not.

And I am there right now ... as I finish moving my studio, hope to wind down Artsy Fartsy and, perhaps, begin a job. Some projects seem VERY done, others still have loose ends and there is much I don't know. So, I focus on what I do know and staying nearer Spirit.

Liminal times are often frought with new growth  for me. I have rebirthed in this time and worked to re-pattern my brain and nervous system from being fear-based to rooted in the security of God's constant love. My shaman has a bumper sticker that says "LOVE < FEAR." I had't quite understood that until recently because I denied that I was living a fear-based life. Our world often pushes us to that brink.

In the midst, a week or 10 days ago, I just said to God "Ok, you do it. Whatever you want, help me to know it." Pieces seem to come one at a time and that is all I need.

A friend's Facebook post this morning caught my attention:
"Is the seeking to live a life of integrity day by day a sign of mental illness? I've been told that so many times by people who have jettisoned their own attention to a moral center ... determined to pursue what the Bible calls "mammon."
That is the struggle: to live faithfully in a world that is, essentially, faithless. Living there is truly a liminal space, dependent upon Spirit's movement and guidance. it's all to easy to be swayed from without.  I enjoyed some of the responses:
"It depends if the person you are pissing off by choosing a life of integrity instead of money has the power to diagnose you or get you diagnosed."
 "I, by the way, identify am madly gifted."
"Some ... believe that they must sacrifice their integrity and make ethical compromises for 'the greater good' ..." 

"Never lose yourself because someone who is lost bids you to follow."
"When one loses the moral compass of the minds, heart and soul we are well and truly lost. Hold fast to that piece within you that gives you peace."

Another Facebook friend – incredible that I am getting deep direction from what I typically think of as a superficial medium – has been posting daily about the beauty she sees each morning and God's hand in offering this day, this time to us NOW.

I believe the liminal spaces are times the veil thins, when we must wait and trust, turn inward and live with spiritual integrity day by day ... and feel free to tell others that we're madly gifted. God would certainly understand.

• When have I experiences liminality?
• What are qualities of those times?
• Did I experience God's closeness?
• How do I experience daily integrity?
• What choices must I make?


cut off
from
original
knowing

we are
swayed
by the
norm

until
we
reawaken

and choose
to live
apart

from within,
following
the stirrings
of the
Inner Teacher

learning to
wait
graciously










Tuesday, May 12, 2015

Have I been faithful?


The luxury of time to move and sort, pitch and remember has been a gift. A gift of solitude and gratitude.

After a rambunctious and unusual Artsy Fartsy session Saturday, I am taking down the big stuff, shifting packed boxes into moving positions, no matter where that happens to be in the room, and very much aware that the room is disappearing. I didn't want the kids to witness this piece. I'd packed most of m personal possessions and things tucked and squirreled away, leaving the objects that have come to define my studio and to which the children have responded: the meditation tent, theater seats, art tables and Ikea stools, my desk, posters and their art on the walls, streams of colorful fabric draped from the ceiling and the full bulletin boards.

Our memory flag created for leaving Milford Main
Today, however, the gloves are off and my mission is to smartly pack, move and store. I am relentless in pitching and recycling and may become more obsessive as I get everything into a box and see how much there truly is. I am already figuring a two-person system of getting my large garbage bags into the dumpster: having one outside on the ground below a second-story window and the other tossing down the bag, which should land only a few feet from the trash bin. The recyclable I may have to transport somewhere else.

I've been darting back and forth, packing this and that, adding to unfilled boxes with similar items. Before desiring a break to blog, I carefully folded 15 man-sized striped and plaid shirts the kids have used for paint smocks. It was almost like putting away my daughter's baby clothes. I could picture the kids in these enormous shirts and unrolled several sets of sleeves.

As I was rolling up posters, I opened what I thought to be an empty mailing tube. Tucked inside was a poster of two children holding hands and the caption: Companionship: those who bring sunshine to the lives of others, cannot keep it from themselves.

It opened some emotions as I drifted back to 14 years ago and the wonderful Neighbor-to-Neighbor group I organized. That was a three-year stint just as Artsy Fartsy has been. And the Neighbor-to-Neirghbor still meets! All of the touching and personal thank-you notes on the back became an echo of what I needed to hear about Artsy Fartsy ... the words I don't actually hear from families, but know they carry:
"You're a jewel and an inspiration.
Thank you for all you do.
God bless your caring spirit,
Thank you for your energy and compassion.
Thank you for following your heart and getting us all together.
Thank you for your hard work and inspiration.
A big heartfelt thank you for initiating and following through with Neighbor to Neighbor."

Saturday was tough. After reminder post cards, phone calls and volunteer drivers, only three kids were out and about waiting. I knocked on many unanswered doors and was told kids had other plans. We eventually ended up with 9. We've had as many as 17 at once. I really wanted them to be here to say goodbye. That was my projection.

One dad asked if I'd stop by and pick up a pizza for his wife. "No, David," I replied not very graciously. "After I drop your boys off at the school, I need to head up to Oakbrook for kids, run back and run the program." Little Caesar's is a five minute walk for him.

During our session, I pretended not to hear one of the girls say she and her friend needed a ride that night. She aimed it at me.

I was feeling under appreciated until I ran across the poster and those words that helped me see they are as appropriate now as then. Thank you, Spirit!

• How do I handle times of transition?
• Can I find reflective moments within those times?
• Can I find Spirit in the bittersweet space?
• When has Spirit provided something I desperately needed?
• How did I express my gratitude?


just because I
have spent time
transitioning,

I expected the
kids to want
that as well

to recognize that
this special
thing we've
been a part of
was changing

but, they're
just kids
struggling
in their
families
and to
survive
hardness

instead,
God sent
me a special
message,
whispered
years ago

yet in the
hearts of
those I serve

helping replace
my question of
"Have I been
successful" with
"Have I been
faithful?