Wisdom of Mr. Slinger

What happens when we taste the full experience of life? And I mean full.

We whine, complain and, often, forget to give thanks. We take the ecstasy for granted sans offering any gratitude and grumble when it's our turn for agony.

As I entered my studio this morning, put my things away, I was drawn to my sacred circle, between the Deco theater seats, orange '70s nurse's lounger and meditation tent. It's quite an eclectic place, but where I have centered by just-begun Turtlebox Stories group. It's anchored by a primitive pottery circle of seven persons, arms intertwined.

After lighting the candle and watching the light dance among the stone faces, I sat and confessed to Spirit that yesterday was a rough day, then caught myself saying – though it wasn't really me – but today will be better. I chuckled because it's almost the identical line from one of our favorite kids' books. Lilly's Purple Plastic Purse by Kevin Henkes. Lilly is obsessed with her new possession, distractingly waving it around in class until her teacher, whom she adores, puts it away. She is crushed and drafts a mean note for the fallen-of-her-pedestal teacher. When opening her retrieved purse on the way home, she finds a note from Mr. Slinger that says something like: "Today was a hard day. Tomorrow will be better."

Yesterday was my experience of agony: a loathsome and deep tiredness from too many broken nights of sleep. Of course, that is where I was stuck much of yesterday. Last night was not a perfect night, but improved to the point that I start my "working" day with Divine guidance. I'd already had prayer time swimming laps and in my warm caccoon of a prayer box sauna. Still, now, sitting in my circle, I seek God's shape for my day.

It's arrived in the guise of understanding that, in the past week, I have experienced the mountain-top revelation, been warmed by a charming new spiritual-nurture group and, also become somewhat of a zombie. I am living the full experience of life. 

I have been the facilitator and the facilitated, the healed and the healer, the mothered and the motherless,  the strong and the weak, the faithful and the doubting. My humanness only wants to feel the pleasantries. It's tired of the tough stuff, the things that have to be forced and worked out, the heaps of drudgery. 

My 15-year-old lens of tiredness forgets that's not all there has been. It tends toward comparisons, always making sure to inform me that everyone else is much better off in all manner of ways.

When I clean that lens and re-focus it away from myself and toward God, I get a different picture, one more like the fire-lit faces worshipping what they have been given and keeping that in their circle, casting off to the dark what is not from God.

Today already is a better day. I look forward to hosting two very special groups this week: Turtlebox and Artsy Fartsy. It will be full, but I leave the details in Spirit's hands.

• What's my fallback reaction to hardness in life?
• How can I transform that if it's not healthy or Spirit-led?
• How can I take Mr. Slinger's advice that it will be a better day?
• Where do I find my sacred circle?
• What do I receive there?


the pattern of
busyness is all
too easy to sink
into

until something
flares to tell us
otherwise

how long must
it take for that
agony to reach
us, teach us?

how can I relax
into Spirit's work
in Spirit's way and
not my own?

Listen to this post:

Ready to jump off

Time to bite the bullet, take the next step and do what God has been hinting at for weeks, months, years: Offer my spiritual-nurture sessions publicly. I've honed them in private, given them in Quaker settings and planned for months to expand them in my studio.

The mask-making and labyrinth workshops were great introductions and, of course, Artsy Fartsy has stretched me. For some reason, though, I have been dragging my feet on these sessions. It's because I am afraid. These really expose me, my vulnerability, the-sometimes-difficult places I've traveled and it's not the sort of thing people jump into easily. Now, anyone who's participated in the workshops, retreats and groups is often surprised at how the creative bent helps them open to deeper spaces and explore some tougher spots in themselves.

I well remember the night-of-the-dark soul three-hour a day, five-day workshop I helped facilitate about six years ago with a gifted Quaker friend. She wanted an art component and I was enthusiastic. I joked that, perhaps, she could have selected a lighter subject. The first day, I doled out baggies full of moist clay and we did a meditation with it with our eyes closed. It wasn't mandatory and everyone complied, though some complained that it was dirty. My daughters, 6 and 9 at the time and who accompanied me to the gathering, thought it was funny anyone would worry that clay sullied their hands. That evening as they were helping me prep for the next day, one of them scrawled something like this on the classroom chalkboard: "Don't be afraid to get dirty or make art, just do it."

I had forgotten about it until several people were amused by the affirmation and said it opened them. Well, then it became a nightly ritual ... that the girls would leave little phrases each time for the class the next day. It had am amazing effect on all of us.

Almost a year-and-a-half ago, I began a 16-week series, broken over two sessions, of teaching from the book that I will someday publish. The workshops and the book are both called: "Turtlebox Stories: Nurturing the Divine Within." This was a small, but dedicated group. Each session focused on a chapter of the book, which is a specific movement within a spiritual journey; anything from pain to prayer, desolation to gratitude and many in between. Pain is the first session and I was somewhat nervous about starting there, but it is what launched my journey and that of so many others – whether we care to admit it or not. So we talked about how our culture avoids pain. It stirred childhood memories of spiritual woundedness and curiosity about God. After this gentle exploration, alternating among discussion, silence, imagery meditation and affirmation, it was clear we all shared pain in our wanderings. Speaking it safely bonded the group.

So, beginning in April on Thursdays evenings, I will show up and faithfully offer this series publicly – that's the clincher for me. I plan to advertise it within my Quaker Meeting, neighborhood, among friends, acquaintances, the two churches next to my studio and the community at large and we'll see who God brings in!

I think this is how I will start the materials I send out:

Ever wanted to:
– Mix spiritual yearnings and creativity?
– Share experiences, fears or ideas about the Universe/God/Spirit in a safe, non-judging context with others?
– Deepen your creativity with a spiritual bent?
– Be part of a small group whee you feel heard, affirmed and nurtured?

And I'll add these comments from past participants:
• "... a journey of discovery and reconnection, where time stood still and we had the gift of really paying attention. We walked in candlelight, drew with our eyes closed, built our own souls, shared then and laughed out loud."
• "Those peaceful retreats full of love and fellowship deeply enriched my journey ... each unique session revealed new insight that gently opened my soul."
• "A delightful surprise for me. Sessions were spiritually stimulating and appealed to our seeking spirit in different ways each time we met. Downright good fun too. Just show up and participate."

• When have I been afraid to take the next step?
• Why?
• How did I overcome my fear?
• When I have followed, where has God led?
• What's my current next step?


a deep breath
cleanses the fear

and I understand
it is time

time to do God's
work that has
also become mine

time to exercise
my ministry and
share it more widely

and pray that
I can accept
the response

with gratitude
and no judgment

now, I am
ready to jump off


For more information, visit:
www.facebook.com/turtleboxstoriesandstudio

Listen to this post:

I AM proof

Listen to post:

Last night was magical. I danced home knowing that this is where I belong, what I should be doing and who I am.

"I am."

Understanding I am was the theme of last night's Turtlebox Stories nurture group, our last of 16 sessions which we began in October. Yet it was also a beginning; this wonderful, rich, loyal and giving group helped initiate my new space. I could not have asked for a better gift. They waited through the fits and starts of me actually getting this space to hold our last formal gathering. While it may have broken the continuity of our weekly meetings, it was held on God's time and agenda, not ours.

And it was sweet. As sweet as you can imagine.

We opened with meditation and discussion centered on what "I am" means to each of us. Seems this concept, this name for God, speaks very deeply to our cores and on a level words can hardly convey. We easily fell into a contemplative tempo after some joyful celebration and becoming acquainted with the new surroundings. There has always been space for silence, reflection, journaling and speaking only when one feels led. This natural rhythm almost seems unnatural set against our cultural and societal pace. Knowing each other more intimately, warts and all, over five months tethers one heart to another, to each other, all bound by God. One of us will be physically leaving soon – for theology graduate school no less – the same one the other two have called home, but she will still be a part of us, of this, of Spirit in this space and with these souls.

"Where two or three are gathered in my name, there I AM among them."
                                                                                               – Matthew 18:20

We began our first discussion back in October with that Scripture and we ended knowing it at its depths, in our minds, bodies and souls.

What have you observed, learned, been transformed or challenged by in this group? Is there anything you must share?

As expected, we all took time to reflect and journal about those queries before we responded. I am not sure we even needed words; I think our hearts understood where we began, where we've traveled, where we ended and where we are heading back out into the world. But we spoke of giving form to spirit, growth and transformation, safety, deep sharing, commitment, finding ourselves and our paths.

Interesting as this all began as a grand experiment of just showing up religiously and opening ourselves.
Spirit provided the rest.

I will carry this experience, this group, these individuals, this gratitude to God in my heart as I go forward. Yes, it is bittersweet, but I have also been shown the grand possibilities for more groups like this. What if everyone had the space to be himself or herself: the person God calls us to be.

What if I could be who I AM?

• When have I felt safe to share myself deeply?
• What has facilitated that safety?
• How can I create that for myself, others?
• How is sharing in a small group grounded in Spirit different from individual prayer or congregational worship?
• Where is my heart currently calling me?


just a mom
and one with
fibromyalgia
that struggles to
get out of bed daily

afraid
of life
to live

to dare
to dream

that may be who
I was, but it
is not who
I AM

when I open
my heart
to God

all things
are possible

I am proof

Make turtleboxes

Listen to this post:

 Make turtleboxes.


That's IT. That's what I am supposed to be doing right now.

Not running after new clients, proving I am worth hiring.

Not looking for a part-time job.

Not worrying about making money.

Not worrying about not having enough money.

Not lacking purpose.

Not feeling useless.

Not feeling powerless.

All of those things rob my energy and define me in negative ways that aren't me.


Funny thing is, making literal and metaphorical turtle boxes is all I really want to do. It's also what God is calling me to.

So simple, but it took awhile to get here. For various reasons, I suppose.

Me and my Turtleboxes (Autumn Barney photo)

In 2005, as I was finishing a research paper, I felt I needed something more special than a fancy report cover to wrap it in. That's when the idea of creating a turtle box hit. Right away, I could visualize what it would look like: a colorful, sacred art box housed inside a turtle shape. After all, the paper contained a collection of people's experiences of the Divine I felt honored to hear, hold and share. Making the first box, the "Mother," was magical. She was greeted with enthusiastic response at our next gathering, so I decided she would spawn 25 babies when I returned in the fall: one for each peer, teacher and elder. It was a dark summer, brightened by making the baby turtleboxes.

When I shared what I was doing within my Quaker Meeting (church), an artist F/friend disclosed her affinity for the turtle and how in Native-American lore (also in many Eastern cultures I have since discovered), the turtle represents Heaven/Divinity (the domed shell) and earth/humanity (the under belly). Of course, I thought, these boxes are the space where they meet and the right container for these stories.

I have been making them ever since, pausing at times, but never abandoning the idea. In fact, the book that has been forming from my spiritual journey the past 12 years now shares that moniker: Turtlebox Stories: Nurturing the Divine within. That's where I have been placing my energies the last year and a half. A month ago, I began facilitating a small group based on the idea of the turtlebox and the contents of my book. I realize I have the gifts and call to help others, along with myself, create our individual turtle boxes (the space we create for God to enter ... I do believe God is always available, it is we who are not). There is the place in each of us where God resides and we need to learn or remember how to locate it.

I had become stuck with my book, feeling that teaching it might provide new opening or insight. And, it has. I had a recent request for an actual turtle box I am honored to fulfill and it got me thinking that it's been awhile since I've made any and that, right now, is what truly makes me sing.

I don't let myself sing very often because I was told in junior high my voice was worthless. Unfortunately, I listened. I wouldn't even sing in church. But my babies came along and they were the only one listening, so I sang to them.

Yesterday, I did something very much outside of my comfort zone: I sang in my Quaker Meeting as worship. It was terrifying and I argued some with God that I had to tell people first that I was not a strong singer. She said: "Just sing and do it now. Don't stand up. Just sing."

Now She says to make turtle boxes and I have no choice but to listen and obey because my heart knows this it my deepest desire.

• What is something Spirit has made especially clear to me?
• How am I following that?
• How did I initially argue, object or not listen?
• What happens when I surrender?
• How does that make my heart feel?


I thought it was just
something I did for
a project


yes, I loved
every minute of
doing it


and I made more


they elicited
wonderful reactions


guess you could say
they brought joy


something so
seemingly insignificant
from my hands and heart


straight from God


and now She whispers
that is my work


the work for which
I have been searching for
so very long


for now,
I am just
resting in that
revelation

Abandoned Shell

Listen to this post:

The day did not start out well. I awoke tired and hot, remembering that I could not get the internet running last night and I didn’t have a current pool key. So much for working and swimming. Alone in the woods. Perhaps I don’t need my computer or the pool today.


I pry a kindly woman from her condo, who offers to show me how to open the pool gate: maybe I didn’t turn the oversized key just half way. I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t budge, but am grateful someone wants to help. As we leave the pavement for the grass, as she walks her small, fluffy dog to the pool and I follow, I spy an abandoned turtle shell by the dumpster. “Hey, think I could take this for my kids?” I ask knowing full well I intend it for myself. “Sure,” the woman says with a smile.


Not a half hour earlier I was writing about turtle shells, trying to craft the tightest summary of my book Turtlebox Stories I could manage.


About seven years ago when discerning how best to present a research paper for a session of School of the Spirit* I was attending, I hit on the idea of a turtlebox [yes one word]. It had an interesting ring because the ear is more accustomed to hearing box turtle. I had collected, mostly in person, the precious stories of people’s experiences of the divine and a boring, old paper did not seem appropriate for something so special. These personal and sacred stories cried for a container that matched their uniqueness. Thus, the turlebox was hatched.


I used a nine-a-and-half-inch, oval paper-mache´ box as the basis, painting it a myriad of bright colors. I knew the lid would be even more special: the shape of a turtle’s shell, head and legs, also painted, but with layers of pastel, loved trinkets, Mod-Podge and my signature squiggles. The top was attached to the first turtlebox with Velcro, to make sure it would be protected in flight. As it sat in our large classroom at the convent, it drew a lot of attention.


So much so, that when I returned four months later, the mother turtle was accompanied by 25 babies: one for each classmate and instructor. Honestly, making those that summer was my sanity. It was a dark time and the project lifted me from that place.


Somewhere along the way, a friend clued me into what Native Americans believe about turtles: that they are the meeting place between Heaven and Earth. The shell is the dome, pointing upward and the body touches earth. I had no idea, yet was immediately struck with the “rightness” to hold those stories. Eastern cultures also share that view.


So here I am NOW with a real turtle shell to examine, admire and wonder what happened to its owner. Somehow, it feels like a gift for me. A tangible sign that I need to forge ahead with the book that’s been 12 years in the making [ok, I wasn’t so aware that’s what was happening the whole time] and never seems to get done. Maybe it’s time for me to take off my shell and share it, not hord and refine the life out of it.


And all I could think of this morning was being unplugged and not wet. This is far better!


• What made me cranky today?
• Did I let that cloud any gifts or thoughtfulness from others?
• If I didn’t, what shifted in me?
• If I did, how can I shift myself next time?
• What stories lay in my personal turtlebox?


PS My key did not work, but the kindly woman is letting me use hers and I am still struggling to get inet access; this will get posted when I do …


*School of the Spirit is a two-year Quaker program of spiritual-nurture ministry that, at the time, met four times a year. For more information, visit www.quakerinfo.com/sos.shtml


You can see the stories I collected at www.turtleboxstories.com. I am re-vamping the site to make it more interactive, but you can still read the current offerings.

Locked in my own monastery

www.turtleboxstories.com

Financial alchemy.

The title of the session listed in an e-mail the day before startled me. I would have never – in a millions years – put those two concepts together. Dirty money and mystical transformation? There was no way to make a reservation, so I just showed up. Early. Early enough to meet the presenter alone and make a deep connection ... over turtles, a symbol that adopted me a long time ago, no less.

Jenefer noticed I was wearing one and said they represent an old soul. I told her I was attracted to them after collecting stories of people's experiences of the Divine and believing a mere paper was not the proper container for something so precious. The idea of a "turtlebox" [ www.turtleboxstories.com ] jumped into my heart and head. Later a friend informed me they symbolize the meeting of heaven (the domed shell) and earth (the belly) – the perfect place, besides my heart, for these sacred stories.

"So you just asked people to talk about those experiences?" Jenefer asked almost in disbelief. "Yeah," I responded, "although it was within a spiritual context." I have not thought about them in such a long time, but it was such an amazing venture – to actually sit with others while they explained their dance with Spirit. I told Jenefer I'd like to be able to walk into a room of strangers and ask the same question. She said she desires to get to the deep stuff quickly, too. No small talk for us. We went right to turtles.

Another person joined us and we had a cozy group. My heart almost leapt out when Jenefer explained there is a bridge between spirituality and money. "What the heck?" I could hear myself thinking. "How's that?"

First off, she asked me to take my wallet out of my purse. I played along. She said it was "pretty." I hadn't the nerve to confess that I had only recently purchased it, the first that wasn't a gift or strictly utilitarian. The purpose of the exercise was to show that money should be respected and honored. That, yes, it was a tool, but not an evil one as I had described my love-hate experience with it. She said to carry more cash than you think you should and you will feel its abundance. I balked when she said how much she carried as well as what she paid for her favorite purse years ago. The day before, Lily, my youngest, had been watching Let's Make a Deal, and I detest game shows [especially game shows centered around money], but she convinced me to watch. I could not understand the pregnant woman obsessed with the $500 purse she was offered. She wouldn't trade it for anything. "Just think what all you could do with $500," I thought.

At financial alchemy, however, I gave it another thought. I would never let myself spend that kind of money because ... well, I assumed I was not worth it. Yep, Jenefer said our views of money are extremely tied to our self worth. I am beginning to see how right she is.

We had two pages of "messages" to read through and hone in on those that spoke to us. I resonated with most all of the spiritual messages, but a couple others stuck out:
1) I want to change the frequency, or the vibration that I may be sending out to the world and the universe.
2) I want to move beyond my survival needs, into my spiritual yearnings.
3) I want to be free of the judgment that I throw toward people who have a lot.

Number one scared me because of its truth. I know my spiritual and creative vibrations reflect the true me, but others, especially those money-related, do not. I have been living in scarcity mode, fearing there will not be enough. "Fear," Jenefer says, "is a faith issue, not financial." I agree.

Number two is the bridge she spoke of earlier. It is a tool I must understand and can employ in a positive spirit. Somehow I have imprinted in my mind and body that living a pure spiritual life involves deprivation, sacrifice and suffering. I've gotten good at those. Think it's time for me to step on that damn bridge and cross it.

Number three I did not initially understand. I know I am an extremely tolerant person when it comes to the have-nots. But the haves have little place in my world. "Envy and jealousy," Jenefer says, "are your GPS. You can't see it [in others] unless you have it [yourself]." Compassionate me jealous? No way. Maybe yes way. I had read my feelings more as disdain, not realizing they tie into that notion of deprivation and suffering.

The Universe, Jenefer said, wants us to thrive AND prosper. What a radically freeing and delicious notion!

I have been restricting myself, fighting money, when I need to open to its abundance. Quoting from Secrets of the Millionaire Mind, Jenefer said one quality of the rich is they know how to receive, not just give.

Fighting myself, now that seems to be a common thread. I had a dream recently about being pursued by thugs and an awful one in particular. I was running to a high spot away from the urban area and its violence when a stray and powerful tornado touched down in the city and destroyed everything, bringing stunning silence. The message I received was to replace violence with silence ... maybe abundance as well. Thanks to Jenefer, I can see that piece now and continue working on completing the puzzle of my wholeness.

• How do I feel about money?
• Can I give AND receive?
• Are there inherited attitudes or patterns I can or should shed?
• How can I incorporate the practice of gratitude and abundance into the way I interact with money?
• Can I tell myself I AM worth it?


I have locked myself
up in my own monastery


thriving in some areas,
depriving myself in others


thinking this is what
purity means


when, in truth,
I need to just be myself
fully, wholly and with
abandon


... and some extra
cash in my wallet

...
Jenefer Annenberg is a life-empowered catalyst and can be reached at jenefer@radiant-esence.com