If a woman does not keep pace with her companions,
perhaps it is because she hears a different drummer.
Let her step to the music which she hears, however measured or far away.

Thoreau (with a Conner twist)

All posts (including images and poetry) on this website are copyrighted by Sheila Conner.
Please do not use without permission.
Thank you.






Thursday, December 23, 2010

Sabbatical 2010, Day 2

December 23, 2010

The day started early; I woke up about 5, thinking “Blinded by the Light…”

Here we are in Advent, looking for the Light, and when we find it (or it dawns on us), it can blind us. Makes me grateful for slow sunrises—but even those, at their apex, can blind us. I wrote a very long poem a few years back; I was reflecting on the “born again” experience and comparing it to an actual birth process—imagine coming from the darkness of Mother’s womb into the brightness of this big new world. All I want to do is close my eyes to protect them from the light. Not really sure where these reflections will lead today, but that’s what I woke up thinking about…

Morning prayer: Compel me to know your ways o Love; instruct me upon your path. Ps 25

I had a wonderful drive today. I was surprised, there’s hardly any “boring” strip of land, even from I-10. Beautiful hills, and almost mountains. I finally decided that I really should get off the Interstate, at least for a few minutes, so I detoured to “see” Ft. Lancaster Historical Park—o my gosh, what a beautiful sight.

First of all, I saw a real working Texas oil well,



then a deer, then another. I even had to stop my car for the second, as the 4-point buck bounded across the road, then leapt (with ease) over the fence. Shortly, I saw a sign, “HILL”, and another, “slow to 45”, so I did. And when I rounded the bend, what a beautiful sight I saw, a canyon! I was at the top, and the road was descending to the “fort” at the bottom.




The park wasn’t open yet, but the drive was breathtaking, unexpected, beautiful, miraculous!




Later I took another detour toward the Davis Mountains—not far, just far enough to enjoy the drive. Pulled over, had lunch and pulled out my paper and brushes. I was using Bienfang watercolor brushes, and the red “dumped”, but I loved it anyway. I played with the paints until a bee buzzed into my car, only about 15 minutes, but it was fun.





I arrived in El Paso at a little after 2. I’m just down the block from UTEP, where hubby went to school. It’s been a good day. Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve. It’s taken me two days to get across Texas, and tomorrow I’ll drive through two states in one day! I plan to go to midnight services tomorrow night in Tucson, then on to Pine Christmas day. The weather’s been great – what a gift!

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Sabbatical 2010, Night 1, Sedona TX



Mother and I left home this morning about 8 and drove (with Tom meowing in our ear) to Columbus, where I passed Mother and Tom off to Sandy. She will continue on to Leander and spend a couple of weeks there with my brother Marshall and his wife Sandy.

Then I continued my drive to Sedona. It was a wonderful drive--I forget how absolutely beautiful the hill country is, even on the Interstate.

There's a couple of things I want to do every day--one is post an update and a quote; the other is sketch or draw something along the way. So, that's the reason for my rough drawing--suitcase and shoes at rest. Me, too. I have a feeling it will be an early night. But before I sign off, I want to log in my quote for the day. I'm nearly finished with Cynthia Bourgeault's The Wisdom Jesus. It has been a delicious book. This morning I read this wondeful quote from Rainer Maria Rilke's Letters to a Young Poet:

"Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightes us is, in the deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love."

So, I'm off for the night. I'll check in again tomorrow.

Thursday, December 16, 2010


Anyone who knows me knows I've struggled with Christmas for many years now, but I'm really learning to love Advent.

I wasn't raised with Advent,and never experienced it until I spent my time in the Catholic Church. I tried to celebrate it the usual way, with wreaths, calendars, special prayers, etc., but that never really worked for me. Advent for me is praying with my art.

Way back in 2003, my artwork came back to me--I think Mary gave it to me. I hadn't touched anything resembling art supplies in years--too busy chasing God, but in 2003, toward the end of November, I began dreaming of mandalas, so I began working with them. That was my journey back into art work, and without me realizing it, it was my introduction to praying with art. And I didn't realize then that I was in the Advent season.

Advent 2003 didn't find me any closer to they Mystery of Advent--it was still just a season on the calendar. But slowly, I've come to notice over the past few years, that Advent brings me a precious slowing down (even in all the hustle and bustle). Something begins to pull me back, slow me down, and turn me in. Last year, Andy said it--Don't struggle with Christmas; celebrate Advent. Look for the Light. So I did. Last year was an art journal. Look back a year on this blog, and you'll find it. This year, it's icons. I had the privilege of sharing my love for icons (something else I discovered during my time in the Catholic Church) with our Christian Formation class last week, and I knew I wanted to paint an icon. It's not egg tempera--may never be, but it is on wood, and I did "real" gold gilding! That was an experience! And I've thorougly enjoyed the experience of working quietly and meditatively this week. This has always been my favorite icon: Christ Pantocrator. This image is supposed to be the "sterner" image, but I love it.

Now, the paints go up, and the studio gets put back in some kind of order, and I won't use it again until next year. I leave next week on Sabbatical. I plan on doing some art while I'm gone, but in small doses. So, I wish you and yours a Merry Christmas. O, by the way, I read something this past week that made me stop in my tracks. Did you know that WE are the reason for the Season??? Because God loved us, Jesus came.

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and Merry Yule to all my friends!

Sunday, November 7, 2010

A Thinker's Favorite Thing - Thinking!


Fantasize – to create, to imagine, to have daydreams, to indulge in fantasy (imagination or fancy, especially wild, visionary fancy), unnatural or bizarre mental image, more-or-less connected series of mental images usually involving some unfulfilled desire…

The last definition, that’s the one I think best describes what my mind used to do—indulge in a more-or-less connected series of mental images usually involving some unfulfilled desire.

So, yesterday afternoon as I pulled dead grass, weeds and wild berry vines out of my “flower” beds, I spent the whole time thinking.

Think – to form or have in mind, to conceive, to hold in one’s opinion, to judge, consider, surmise, determine, resolve, work out by reasoning, to purpose or intend, to form an idea, to recall and consider, to have the mind moved steadily toward, to reflect and remember, to discover, invent, or conceive, to work out, solve, or plan.

For the better part of my first 40 years, I spent most of my “down” time fantasizing the “what if’s” of my life, imagining often how it should have been or could have been, you know, if only…

But this last 20 years has been spent, for the most part, thinking. And there is a difference, a huge difference.

Perhaps a thinker fantasizes when she’s convinced there’s nothing “more” for her. Perhaps a thinker’s fantasies begin when her curiosity is truncated and her questions answered with, “Because I said so”, or “That’s just the way it is”, or even, “Because the Bible says so.” Those answers to questions tend to close the book. There’s nothing left to do but fantasize.

So, why am I going here? Why am I writing all this down? Why do I even want to think about this and write my thoughts down?

“Idol thoughts are the devil’s workshop.” Wow, where did that come from? That was not a statement heard in my house when I was growing up. But thoughts outside the norm or questions (especially regarding God and/or faith) weren’t especially well received, and the answers I received most often were the ones given above. And I have heard that old quote before.

As for women? Ever since Eve, we’ve been pretty much been identified with the devil’s workshop, and our thirst for knowledge was what started this abomination of sin anyway. Unfortunately, not much in our Scripture encourages a woman to think. Especially Paul, bless his heart. A woman’s head was to be covered, and her mouth was to be closed. Her husband was her “answer man”, and only in the privacy of her home. And what about Paul? Well, Paul was our hero when I was growing up.

When I entered the Catholic Church at the ripe old age of 52, several people there asked me a question that really got my attention. “Why is it that Protestants and Evangelicals quote Paul all the time or preach from Paul’s letters? The sermons are rarely from the Gospels, and no one quotes Jesus.” You know, they have a point.

Paul didn’t seem to particularly highly regard the opinions of women. And what Paul wrote mattered, a lot. His thoughts, opinions, and revelations filtered into my culture: a woman’s place is in the home, and her God-ordained “job” is to care for her husband and children, submitting to him in all things, of course. You know, “the little woman standing behind her man” thing.

If you’ve listened to me much over the last few years, you probably already know this is one of my sticking points. I don’t believe Paul’s opinions were always “revelation from God”. Dammit, I think a good many of them were just his opinion, patriarchal opinions at that. The God I’ve come to know and love gave me a brain, a mind. My God encourages me to expand my mind, to gather knowledge, to think, grow, and fully experience life. My God blesses a woman’s questions and her thinking mind. And the God I know doesn’t demand we check our thinking minds at the door and “just believe by faith”.

So, off my rant, and back to yesterday. What got me started on the joys of thinking until my thoughts ran their course? What got me to asking questions until there were no more answers?

Maybe it’s Karen Armstrong’s new book, The Case for God. Maybe it’s Karen Armstrong herself. She’s just a smart woman. She’s intelligent. She’s an intellect.

You know, when I was growing up in East Texas, the word “intellect” was almost as bad as the “n” word. When a person was called an “intellect”, it wasn’t a compliment—it was rather spit out through clenched teeth and implied “uppity know-it-all”. And to mention “intellect” in the same breath as Christian? Well, there was no doubt which one was the obscenity. Today, I kind of look at that in wonder. What were we so afraid of? Why was it so much better to “have believing faith” than to be a thinking “intellect”?

Something shifted in my psyche a number of years ago when I learned a little something about the word “heresy”. That word comes from an old French word, “haeresis”, which indicated a school of thought, and an old German word, “hairein”, to take. Somewhere along the line, if a person began to think for themselves and to think outside the box, they became a heretic. What’s wrong with that picture?

So far, I think my favorite parts in Armstrong’s book have been her discussion of Socrates (wow, I really like that man!), and her chapter on Silence. I’ve learned something in my own “thinking” experience. It’s one thing to think and be challenged until your thinker zzzzztttt’s out and you come to silence, and it’s a whole ‘nother thing to “be silenced”. Socrates challenged his pupil’s until they came to silence, to “unknowing”. To sit with Socrates, to ask him questions, to come and sit at his feet was to know you were going to be undone. And “undone” is good. Jesus has done that to me quite a number of times. Paul just makes me mad, but Jesus challenges me, over and over again, until I’m “undone”.

Sit with Socrates long enough, and you wind up being pushed to silence. Sit with Jesus long enough—silence. Moses discovered that visiting often with God invited him to silence. So did Job. Armstrong points out that the burning bush was Moses’ initiation into God, but he eventually wound up in a “cloud of unknowing” at the top of a mountain, in utter darkness, completely speechless before God.

Have you ever been there? Speechless, completely undone? I have. I called it a “loss of faith”. For nearly three years, sitting in darkness, scared to death that I had sold my life out for nothing. Where was God? What was I supposed to do with this man called Jesus?

Either my eyes have become accustomed to the dark, or dawn seems to be coming. Haven’t gotten a lot of answers to my questions I’ve asked over the last 20 years, but I am getting more comfortable living without answers. And, if I come to an easy answer, I let the questions fly, and my thoughts dig until my mind zzzztttttts out again, knowing that no knowledge of God ever gives me pat, easy answers. Nothing in Scripture or in my own imagination ties God down to being what we think God’s supposed to be, or doing what we think God’s supposed to do. My knowledge of God never lets me get away with being angry at my brother or ostrizing “sinners”—you know, loving them, but hating their sin. In fact, the God I know doesn’t let me get away with “us” and “them”. When I sit with God and my thinker, I usually find it all coming back to me…my opinion of others, my anger, my resentment, my culturally-acceptable norms. The only one that sends another to hell is me, and I find that the only plank that needs to be removed from an eye is usually the one in my own eye. Jesus never lets me sit very long and accuse the other. Instead, he reminds me to search my own heart. Like Socrates, Jesus reminds me often that the unexamined life isn’t worth living.

Over the last 20 years, I’ve met up with those who would remind me where I come from, and with love in their hearts and great concern, they would try to lead me back to the “truth” I’ve strayed from. They usually quote a lot of Scripture to me. I don’t mind. I’ve been there, and I’ve done the same thing. But I won’t go there anymore. Armstrong says it well in one of her discussions of Augustine, Scripture and science:

“…It would be absurd to interpret [certain] text literally. God had simply accommodated the truths of revelation to the science of the day so that the people of Israel could understand it; today a text like this must be interpreted differently. Whenever the literal meaning of scripture clashed with reliable scientific information, Augustine insisted, the interpreter must respect the integrity of science or he would put scripture into disrepute. And there must be no unseemly quarreling about the Bible. People who engaged in acrimonious discussion of religious truth were simply in love with their own opinions and had forgotten the cardinal teaching of the Bible, which was the love of God and neighbor. The exegete must not leave a text until he could make it “establish the reign of charity,” and if a literal understanding of any biblical passage seemed to teach hatred, the text must be interpreted allegorically and forced to preach love.”

And it’s kind of hard for me to go back to a literal interpretation of the Bible, when I’ve come to love and respect story, mythos, allegory. O my how much bigger Scripture has become when I’ve let it be what it is—a growing revelation of God to a people, a story told orally for many centuries before every being set to pen, truth, not fact. So I don’t feel compelled to argue my case from Scripture anymore. I’d always “lose” anyway. I’d rather just let it be what it is--another chance to sit with Jesus for a while and ask him questions. Let him reveal my heart, my fears and my demands, then let him challenge me until my mind goes zzzzttttt…and my heart softens, and I come away in silence again.

Thursday, November 4, 2010

New Painting - Emerging



I've been working on this for the last couple of days. It's done from one of my SoulCollage(r) cards, and it's painted in acrylics. I thoroughly enjoyed doing it. Inside all of us as women is a young one emerging, as well as an older, hidden one who helps us along: maiden, mother and crone. I also thought of my grandaughter who's definitely emerging, with her mother and her grandmother nearby. We become who we are by standing on the sholders of those who've gone before. I think I heard that somewhere!

Namaste!

PS, a later addition

She Is

Maiden, Mother, Crone
Cocooned, Emerging, Guiding
Daughter, Mother, Grandmother
Seeker, Birther, Wisdom...

She Is

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

October's Journal Pages



You know, sometimes we get too busy or too distracted to plug into our creative side on a regular basis, so it really helps to have an incentive. Our 3rd Act crones are working on collabrative journals over the course of a year, so each month I have an extra "push" available. This month, I was given 4 white pages to be creative on--it's usually only two, so this was really cool. And I had so much fun.

What's really neat about these journals is there's no plan when we begin. All of us have talked about how special it is that the Muse shows up and something wonderful happens with each journal. This month, it seems Spirit was speaking: "Wake up, and stay awake!" It's good to be reminded.

Thursday, October 28, 2010

A ROOM OF ONE'S OWN


A ROOM OF ONE’S OWN

I invited him in
Told him this was his house
“Take off your shoes, stay awhile
make yourself at home.”

“Rearrange the furniture if you like.
You can discard whatever’s in your way,
even if it seems precious to me.”

“Here,
here in my heart,
in this space
make a room of your own
to just be.”

He came in, looked around and smiled,
then walked to the mantle in the Great Room.
He noticed something was missing.
He cleared a place,

then put Her picture there.

I was surprised. He was pleased.
He was home.

Tuesday, October 26, 2010

The Grasses Know



The Grasses Know

Waves

upon waves

upon waves

purple heads
float on oceans of green
and ochre grasses...

Malkatuh walks through,
and the grasses know.

She is.



My pre-dawn walk yielded little bits of poetry this morning. As I rounded the bend on my return home, the tall grasses moved in the wind. I've seen it before, but today I bowed and whispered "Namaste", and the poem came.

The first write yielded "Ruah" as her name. But as I sat with the Aramaic words of Jesus this morning, expanding on my understanding of the prayer he taught us to pray, I read these lines:

(begin quote)

"Malkuthakh" refers to a quality of rulership...that guide[s] our life toward unity. It could justifiably be translated either "kingdom" or "queendom". From the ancient roots, the word carries the image of a "fruitful arm" poised to create, or a coiled spring that is ready to unwind with all the verdant potential of the earth. It is what says "I can" within us...The word "Malkatuh", based on the same root, was a name of the Great Mother in the Middle East thousands of years before Jesus. The ancients saw in the earth and all around them a divine quality that everywhere takes responsibility and says "I can".

(end quote)

I remembered the grasses blowing in the wind just before dawn, and I remembered the sense that She was walking through them as they recognized her, and I knew they also recognized their own "I can".

That's when I knew Ruah had introduced me to Another, Malkatuh, the "I can".

It's been a happy morning.

Sunday, October 24, 2010

Poetry - Journey of a Curious Cat


The Journey of a Curious Cat
(“Get out of your father’s boat
and follow Me;
and let’s go sailing
on the Bottomless Sea”.)

This curious cat has survived her 9th life
by embarking on the journey of a lifetime,
one began with a single step
and a lot of questions.

Yearning for adventure and faraway places,
she’s now sails on the Bottomless Sea,
far from the familiar shore,
smelling the salt air,
watching the birds fly free,
and following her own dreams, thank you very much.

“Home” is where my heart takes me.
“Home” is living my own “I AM-ness.”

(10/23/10 Poetry Retreat, Richard Osler, Surfside Beach)

Saturday, October 23, 2010

TO UPSET THE ORDINARY



That was our challenge today while we sat in a circle in a beautiful home on Surfside Beach...13 ordinary human beings were challenged to upset the ordinary and risk becoming poets. We laughed! Last year, we wrote poems describing a bromilead...this year? This time we were thrown into the deep end, and our writing assignments were designed to challenge us and to stretch us enough to allow our unformed wings to unfurl. Richard gave us a couple of exercises. One was called, Secret Identity--we had two minutes to write about our secret identity...

My secret identity is...
I am an eagle soaring...
How high?
How wide is the sky?

Richard, our teacher and mentor graced us with "safe space" and a bag full of tools to aid us in our writing journey. As the afternoon wound down, Richard gave us all a small stone, then shared these words from Adalia Prado with us:

Once in a while God takes poetry away from me.
I look at a stone. I see a stone.

Richard challenged us to see beyond our stones and write what we saw and heard.



I wrote:

Story of a Stone
(raise up a child in the way he should go…)

The teacher explains the difference between rock and stone:
a rock is something we pick up that’s been touched only by nature;
a stone is something fashioned into use by man.

So, who decides the greater value?
What makes one decide the rock has something to offer?

A rock left to nature alone is always and only a rock.
But a rock chosen
then chiseled and tumbled until rough edges are smoothed
becomes a stone—

if we’re lucky and skilled,
a precious stone.

Perhaps value lies in what’s seen with the Unusual Eye.

We were gifted in wonderful ways this beautiful October day. We were given the joy of words and tools to use that grace our words. We were held in a safe place to spread our wings and fly, to begin living our lives as the poets we are.



Thank you Richard for coming and sharing with us. Thank you Andy for nurturing the poet in us. Thank you Sweet Spirit for flowing through us--every single one of us. Today was gift.

Poetry Retreat


It's finally here! God bless St. Timothy's, Andy Parker, and Surfside Beach for nurturing the poet in us.

Our 2nd Annual St. Timothy's Poetry as Prayer retreat got underway last evening with king ranch chicken, diner cake, coffee, Richard Osler, and 13 shiny expectant faces. And, o yes, pen and paper.

Our first assignment? Where am I from?

And this is my first poem of the weekend.

ROOTS
(In order to discover new lands, one must be willing to lose sight of the shore for a very long time. Andre Gide)

You ask me where I’m from?

Why, I’m from the Promised Land,
the land of June Cleaver and Father Knows Best,
and “Anyone north of Dallas is a damned yankee.”

I’m from the Piney Woods,
the Rose Capitol of the World,
dogwoods,
and the Azalea Trails.

I’m from that little white brick church on Front Street,
“gimme that old time religion”,
Billy Graham Crusades,
and the Great State of
“Those women libbers are nothing but trouble”.

I’m from tiny boxes,
ask me no questions and I’ll tell you no lies,
truncated dreams,
big mouths,
and submissive wives territory.

My roots lie deep in red dirt,
playing dumb,
getting my MRS Degree,
God (forever and always only male, of course),
the American flag,
and the Republican party…

But one day...
One day I was invited to pack my bags,
and leave my father’s house in the land of Ur.
One day, the Holy One spoke, “Get out of your father’s boat and follow Me;
come sail away with Me on the bottomless sea”.

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

Vine Ripened

Once in a while, a proprioceptive Write just might produce something akin to poetry...





Vine Ripened

The prayer, “Ripen this piece of fruit.”

Avocado stuffed into a brown paper bag
and stuck in a dark closet,
Green tomato placed under glass,
all in an effort to ripen not-ready fruit
using foreign aide,

But always
the tastiest fruit is ripened on the Vine,
s l o w l y,
taking its own sweet time
to come to full flavor.

Shall I choose the quick-ripen method?
or allow the time necessary to become

Vine-ripened fruit?

(John 15:5 “I am” the Vine…)

Thursday, October 14, 2010

Light and Salt, Combining Engaging Scripture and Proprioceptive Writing


I've discovered a new way of journeling that's proving to be revealing, and a lot of fun. It's called "proprioceptive writing"; journaling your thoughts as they come, then taking a question (What do you mean by _______), and using the question like a shovel, digging underneath the thought to reflect and re-examine. I've done 4"Writes" this way, and decided to use it in my Engaging Scriptures practice this morning. What a fun combination! Our Scripture was from Matthew 5, where Jesus tells us we are salt and light. This is my Write for the morning, nothing special, just expanding and re-expanding my thinking, one of my favorite things to do.

"OK, so I want to take my thoughts this morning and guide them…salt “of the earth”, light “of the world”, just what do I think about that? Where will thoughts take me. Is this spoken to me personally, only to Christians, or to humanity itself?

What do you mean by “humanity itself”? Was Jesus speaking to all of humanity? Or to only his followers? What if he was speaking to the whole of humankind? Kind of a prophetic word to the whole?

What do you mean by “prophetic”? Jesus speaking a thought into actual be-ing-ness…like, as he speaks to all of humankind, humankind becomes the actual flavoring of creation, like baking a cake—vanilla changes batter from cornbread to cake, vanilla and sugar--and salt. Salt is in every recipe, a staple spice that gives just a certain “zing” to the food it’s sprinkled on, or in.

What do you mean by “zing”? There’s a flavor that salt adds to a dish, kind of a “pick it up”, a lift, a zing. Without it, the dish is flat…so, without humankind, creation tastes flat. It has no zing. But I think of Karen’s hamburger—with no salt, it’s flat. With too much salt, it makes a person thirsty, so humankind as a whole—how are we flavoring the earth around us? I suspect we’re “too much”—trashing the earth and taking advantage of creation, trash talking each other, and taking advantage of one another, so what do I do with that? When my life is tipped over and spilled out…how do I flavor creation around me? Am I so overpower that creation becomes useless, or less than? Or am I not enough, so that creation “needs” something? Thinking of fruit ripening—so, “ripen me” that I might be just the right amount of flavor to the earth around me.

And light, to the world. Berry best describes this in Green Dragon: through the human being, creation “sees itself, “hears itself,” is able to “reflect on itself. So, is my light transparent enough for the sky to see its true blueness? Am I transparent enough for the lily to see it’s bright color, or for the mountain to catch its awe-inspiring beauty?

And what about my own backyard? Does the mocking bird hear its song and sing even louder because my light reflects its true beauty? Does the little canal behind my house see itself clearly because my light is bright and uncovered? What a thought, that the world, creation itself, might need the light emanating from humanity in order to see its own beauty. How clear is my light? How fresh is this salt? How do I flavor? How do I reflect? Do I understand my own personal impact on creation and the world around me? And like Jesus said, “it’s about fruit ripening.” I can’t change myself. I can only “intend”—intend to light the world around me, intend to gently flavor the earth. Hang onto the branch until I completely ripen. Sweet, delicious flavor. God in me. “I am”… I am salt, I am light, I am fruit ripening on the vine. All in good time. I AM.

What do you mean by “I AM”? I say the words that Jesus said, “I AM”, and I am. Don’t know how to explain it, only “I AM.” God in me becoming. Salt in me flavoring. Light in me shining. Fruit in me ripening. The connection to the Great I AM, releasing this “I am” to be. The Great I AM becoming in the small “I am”. You will do greater works than me…not blasphemy, but truth. I AM because God is, and I AM created in God’s image and likeness."

Propreioceptive writing is a wonderful, easy way to sharpen your creativity, check your emotions, learn about yourself, and to bring light to your spiritual journey. Much more fun than straight stream of thought writing or morning pages, a lot more useful and more revealing.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

SILENCE AND SOLITUDE


Ahhhh, what a beautiful morning. Cool, crisp, windows open, birds singing, my "bliss station", and beautiful, golden silence.

You know, hospitals just aren't silent. And there's no such thing as solitude. Over the years, I've learned the value of silence and solitude, and I "require" that space in order to function as a human. That still, somewhere in the shadow of my psyche, sounds selfish, but it's not. It's fact. And I am reminded often just how much I require it in order to function well.

My dear precious mother has been recuping from knee replacement in our local hospital. She's had a couple of setbacks, so I was been there with her for 6 days. She's precious and I love her, but there just wasn't any silence or solitude. Her doctor sent her to the rehab floor yesterday afternoon, and I was told, "Go home." This morning, I was was in my "bliss station", listening to golden sounds of silence, and feeling the sweet honey of stillness wash over my soul.

Then I opened my Bible to begin my "Engaging Scripture" study, and there, on a little piece of paper, tucked into oblivion was this little dittie that Andy shared with us one evening as preparation for centering prayer. It was just the "permission" I needed to relax into my silent moment and breathe.

SOLITUDE
(from Breathing Under Water: Spirituality and the 12 Steps

The most simple spiritual discipline is some degree of solitude and silence. But it's the hardest, because none of us want to be with someone we don't love. To be with our own thoughts and feelings, to stop the addictive prayer wheels and just feel what we're really feeling, think what we're really thinking, is probably the most courageous act most of us will ever do.

There's probably no way out of our addictive society--and our addictive, dysfunctional families--apart from some significant and chosen degree of silence and solitude.

I go to agrarian societies, places in Africa or the Philippines, and there I see non-addicted people. I see people who lead quiet, simple lives, under stimulated, with a few basic truths that they hold onto all their life. Think of how many things stimulate us daily: radio, television, billboards, conversations. We've go to slow down the chatter, the stimulation; we've got to feel many feelings which have been pent up and denied for decades. We've become overloaded, which is why we're afraid to do it.

We won't have the courage to go into that terrifying place of the soul without a great love, without the light and love of the Lord. Such silence is the most spacious and empowering technique in the world, yet it's not a technique at all. It's precisely the refusal of all technique.


I encourage you, find yourself a "bliss station" (mine's a certain chair in my living room), and just be still--just for 10 minutes, be still and simply breathe. Make some room in your life for purposed silence and solitude. Listen to the quiet and the sound of your own breath. Make it a daily practice. Get to know yourself, and the Holy.

Namaste.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

FOLLOW YOUR BLISS



Following the Star
September 18, 2010


Do you see it?

There!

Right there!

High in the sky…
there it is!

the Star!

My –

I’ve never seen anything quite like it.
It’s so bright,
so beautiful,
so compelling…

I find myself filled with longing to follow that Star?

What? You say I’m crazy?

May be…maybe –
But,
But what if,
But what if following that Star just might lead me home?
What if following that star just might lead me
to the place of peace I so long for?

My heart, and my mind, are filled with the desperate “what ifs” that make staying here,
In this place,

Next to impossible.

So, here I am,
Like a crazy fool,
Packing my bags
And loading this camel
And heading out, over this desert,
Into this broad expanse of wasteland –

I have to go
I’m compelled to follow

The Star is calling me home.
(TAEHS, Matthew 2.1-12)

Thursday, September 16, 2010

SABBATICAL, SEVEN YEARS, THE GREAT MOTHER (MY OWN), AND ME



I sat with Jim last night and discussed me taking a “sabbatical” the last two weeks of the year. He “high-5’d” it. Isn’t that the coolest?

Sabbatical – bringing a period of rest to the end of a cycle.

Seven, one of THE prime numbers in every tradition. In my own tradition, the Hebrews considered the number 7 to be the most sacred, the sum total of the most perfect world number (4) and the most perfect spiritual number (3). The number 7 marked “completion”.

My mother moved down here 7 years ago in May. Little did we know how HUGE her move down here was, especially for the 2 of us. Moving Mother here, into my space, has been a welcoming of the Feminine.

Father God (my Daddy) was “out there”, different from me, beyond me, always a “mystery” that in my femaleness I would never be able to measure up to. There is no doubt in my mind that my Daddy loved me, absolutely, but that love was from a distance, the way Father God did—from out there, above and beyond me, a Mystery I would never be able to penetrate, a God I could never pretend to be like. Father of my Spirit.

Mother, on the other hand…my Mother.

Mother God, (my Mother) is God IN me, God in my shape, in my form, speaking with my voice, God revealing my Self to me, God loving me from INSIDE of me. She is Mother of my Soul.

When we asked Mother to come live here with us, little did I comprehend that I would be inviting the Feminine, yes, the Goddess, the Mother of my soul into my psyche. As a new Catholic, I had just met Mary, and I knew I loved her—immensely. And Christmas, 2003, was huge for me. I received what I believe to have been a supernatural gift, the gift of mandalas, for nearly 3 months, pictures and words from deep inside of me, marking me and preparing me for what I know now to be a huge paradigm shift, and I knew even then that those mandalas were a gift to me, not from the Father, but from the Mother.

All that happened 7 years ago, and the changes in our lives have been cataclysmic—perhaps not so much from the outside, although even those are big, but on the inside, as well.

When Mother moved down here, I wanted to be open and honest with this sheltered woman. So I told her the biggest and baddest things about me and my family that I could come up with. “Mother, Jim and I occasionally drink, and I find myself saying bad words pretty often, and Robin’s belly button is pierced.” That was it. I had now come clean.

Good heavens—it’s almost comical now.

In the past seven years, Mother and I have been introduced to all kinds of new things, new words, new thoughts; i.e., alternative life styles, bi-sexuality, polyamory, Burning Man, the Wisdom of Hoboses…my family itself, so beautifully intact in 2003, has crumbled. Two of my sons have gone through psyche shattering divorces. Another son has decided that we’re too much to deal with, so he stays away. I’ve lost two of the very best friends I ever had in my two daughters-in-law. I’ve watched my grandchildren lose their innocence. I’ve seen alcoholism rare its ugly head in the lives of friends and family. Divorce has once again not only ripped my family apart, but it's ripped apart the families of very dear friends. And even now, I'm reminded again how short life can be, and how everything can change in a moment.

That’s outside. Inside? I lost God for two years. I couldn’t figure out what to do with Jesus. I lost my faith. My body froze in fybromalgic pain in November, 2004, and it’s still frozen. I live with it all the time. And, god forbid, I’m on anti-depression medication, they tell me for the pain, but I also know it’s also for the depression.

What has my mother done during all this? She’s done what God does—she’s loved. She’s watched. She’s been there. She’s seen it all and heard it all, and she loves us still. She watched especially close as my image of God was shattered. Father, Son, and Bridegroom no longer work as well as Mother, Daughter, or better yet, Ground of All, Source of Everything, River Beneath the River, etc. God is not so much “out there” speaking from outside, as IN me, speaking to me in my own voice. And from my own creative experiences (also in the last 7 years), God didn’t so much just speak creation into being as birth Creation. Neither did God “finish” in 6 days; She’s still giving birth to an ever-expanding Universe all around us.

Mother (God? Or Millie?) has walked me through the Great Shift in my soul—from evangelical Christian to catholic (universal) Christian. She has watched as my religion, politics and heart has changed. She’s watched as what was very neatly boxed and defined broke into billions pieces—and like Leonard Cohen sings, “That’s how the light gets in.” How has Mother responded? With blessing. Yes, blessing. Mother Millie hasn’t exactly understood (nor have I) or embraced (nor have I) all the changes, but she’s blessed it all. Mother God on the other hand?

Well, that’s what the Feminine does. She takes your hand and circles you round and round, down and down, until you come into the Abyss of your own soul. And she sits with you in the depths of hell until you die—and She stays with you until time for your resurrection.

Then, She says, as a Good Mother does, “Rest Sheila. It’s time to rest your soul and your body. Take a Sabbatical.”

So I will—not so much a “silent retreat” as I first thought, even though The Great Silence sounds delicious and I expect to enter it often, but a Sabbatical, a time of rest after a cycle of energy being spent. I highly recommend it. And I’ll let you know how it goes. I suspect to come home after the first of the year refreshed, healed in mind and spirit (maybe even in body), and ready to tackle the next 7 years of growth.

Selah!

BTW, I'm still a Christian. I still love God the Father, I adore Jesus, both God and man, and I believe in resurrection. It's just all bigger and far more glorious that I first imagined.

Sunday, September 12, 2010

The Marriage of Elan and the Mermaid



I've been chompin' at the bit to get into my studio and do some active imagination work. So, I got up early this morning, put on a new CD, grabbed a few pastels, took a deep breath, and began working. Almost a couple of hours later, I realized I had been invited to a wedding...

A few weeks back I discovered a new word...ELAN (with one of those little '-marks over the "e"). I wish I remembered where I saw the word--one of the problems of being an avid reader. I can never remember where I saw "it", nor can I ever find "it" again. But I fell in love with this word. The author definded it as a bursting forth of energy--you know the kind--that "bursting forth" that causes a bird to break forth into song, that "bursting forth" that causes a seemingly dead seed or bulb to break open and shoot roots into the ground, that "bursting forth" that raises new life out of ashes--THAT "bursting forth"! It's called LIFE!

I've been smiling on the inside as I've read two of my sons Facebook posts this weekend. No. 1 son has fallen in love with mountains and rocks and has become an avid climber. Hewent rock climbing (again) during the Labor Day weekend, this time to take an "anchors" course, so he can take his sons and "anchor" them as they climb up and over steep grades of rocks--yeah, I can just see it now. Actually, I have my eyes covered.

No. 2 son took two his two boys to New Orleans this weekend, "hoboin'". They're playing their guitars and harmonicas on the streets with strangers (yes, that's right, strangers)! Improvisional jazz or something like that on the streets of New Orleans, eating beignets and sharing their meals with "hobo dogs". What's a grandmother to do?

But you know, that's what Elan is--it's LIFE! It's that great rush of drama that comes running at you, full steam ahead, with fire breathing out it's nostrils. It's that thing that rises up out of the underworld, morphing from free, easy and beautiful, to huge, vile, and ugly. It's LIFE, in all it's glory, as well as all it's gore.

Seems two of my sons have decided to risk experiencing life from INSIDE, instead of OUTSIDE, looking on. And they seem determined to teach their sons the same thing.

Most of us would rather be safe. Except that LIFE teaches us that nothing is safe. Not the good ole USA, not NYC, not 401K's, not marriage, not religion, certainly not God--none of it's safe.

I'm one of those who lived the first 40 years of my life trying to do the "right" thing, and playing it "safe". I expected marriage(s) to last. I expected that if I went to church, read my Bible and loved God, I'd be a "good Christian". I did the "right thing" that a good Christian woman was supposed to do--got married and raised my kids, went to church, and played by the rules.

Then I turned 40 and the adventure began. I decided to make a bold move on the part of my scared little East Texas heart; I decided to began to really follow it and listen to it. And I have discovered LIFE.

And I've sprouted fish fins from swimming in the deep of the psyche. I've learned about "breathing under water". I've seen the beast--shoot, I've discovered I AM the beast. :) And I am also Beauty. The Dragon and I are ONE. The enemy is me, myself, and I.

And yet, and yet...wow, the experiences. Some of them measured by today's standards as not so good, but still memorable. And the longer I live, the less I demand safety. The more I want to experience LIFE from INSIDE.

So, as I painted this morning, and smeared, and worked and reworked, not having a clue what I was doing or where it was leading me, I found the mermaid and her bouquet aproaching the sea dragon--Beauty about to marry the Beast.

The Marriage of Elan and the Mermaid

Here he comes…
Rising up from the deep waters
Coming toward her from the darkest night…

Friend
Or Foe?
Kind and gentle
Or cruel as death itself?
Morphing from moment to moment
Changing from innocent sea creature
To fire-breathing dragon
Always changing
Not quite certain who or what he (or it) is…

He carries something in his hand
Something extended to She who waits

Might it be his heart?

And She,
Half human, half water beast herself
Rises from the deep to meet him
Dressed as Bride
Holding herself out to greet him

She waits.
He approaches.
They wed.

Friday, September 10, 2010

Can I Just Skip Christmas and all It's Hub-bub This Year?

I've known for a while that I'm exhausted--mentally, spiritually, emotionally, physically. A few weeks ago, something happened, and I began to think about skipping Christmas this year. That's a huge move for me--one not taken lightly. Christmas has been an issue for me for many years, probably since my children were little. It's time for family, and two divorces in my early years kind of wrecked that simple idea and complicated Christmas, along with all the other holidays. But Christmas was the one that hurt the most. I think it must be the high expectations of the season.

Then my kids grew up and had families of their own. Jim and I married, and Christmas (even with it's hangups) managed to be ok. But over the last 5 years, it's gotten complicated again. Now divorce has touched my children's lives, and--well, damn it, it just hurts too darn much.

And I'm tired. I'm tired of pretending it's a wonderful season. I'm tired of working so damned hard to make sure everyone has a wonderful time--and never being really sure. I'm just tired.

And now, added to it this year, we're trying to get Mother scheduled for two knee replacements before January 1. Just thinking about it all wears me out. So, a neighbor said, "Skip it. Leave. Go somewhere." It sounds so simple, but all the voices go round and round in my head telling me I can't do that--but, you know what? I think I'm going to try.

It's been a hard 5 years--and I'm just tired. I've been reading Clarrisa Pinolka Estes, Women Who Run With the Wolves again. It is food for the soul--the woman's soul. Tonight I read a little tale called "The Three Hairs"--a very short story. It's basically about the woman's animus losing focus and energy, and becoming exhausted. Then animus, you know, that "male" part of us women that's able to take charge and take care of it all, well darn it all, it just gives out. Estes writes that women are usually surprised when it does, but it always does. And the only answer to that is rest. Estes writes, "Her animus is worn out and in need of being rocked by La Que Sabe. The woman whos idea or energy has waned, whithered or ceased altogether needs to know the way to this old woman healer, and must carry the tired animus there for renewal."

La Que Sabe is the 2-million-year-old woman, the one who knows. "To be held in her arms before her fire is restorative, reparative. It is to this fire and to her arms that the old man drags himself [or is dragged]"...and her job is simply to hold him and to rock him until he's refreshed.

My animus is exhausted--trying to hold a crumbling family together, taking care of my mom (yes, I love her dearly, but it's a lot of work), and trying to hold everything together and make it all work.

So, I think I'm gonna take "him" to Arizona--to a little one-person cabin in the woods--just me and "him" for Christmas. I'm even considering driving--I'm just ready for a good space of time away from everything and everyone. No phones. No computer. No doctors appointments. No grocery shoping. Not even any "girls' days out". No Jeopardy. No moment's notice and everything has to change. Just me and my old worn-out animus going on a road trip and sitting in the mountains of Arizona for a whole week. Leaving BEFORE Christmas and not coming home until AFTER New Years. God, that sounds delicious. I think I really want to do this--that is if we can get all the timing to work out. I'm gonna try. I think I really must before I crater.

What is it in that sweet voice inside
That incites you to fear?

Now is the time for the world to know
That every thought and action is sacred.

This is the time
For you to compute the impossibility
That there is anything
But Grace.

Now is the season to know
That everything you do
Is sacred.

~ Hafiz (translated by Daniel Ladinsky)

Sunday, September 5, 2010

VISION BOARD - THE WELL




It's been a wonderful quiet day. Spent time in my studio making a vision board for The Well. I love the idea of "visionating" something into birth.

It was a gift to me from the Muse for my birthday.

Monday, August 30, 2010

SoulCollage® Slideshow

THE WELL - I HAVE A DREAM...

THE WELL
Women Who Draw Water From The Well For Others
Lo, are you Thirsty, Come to the Well…

I have a vision—a place where we as women gather to teach others how to draw water from their own well. We are all “Waterbearers”. Each of us have gifts that tend “soul”, gifts we long to share. Some of us have known about it for a long time. We’ve talked about it and laughed about it, but now, I SEE IT. I know it’s NAME.

I see THE WELL.

WELL—a flow of water from the earth; natural spring and pool supply of water; a source of abundant supply; a fount.

From Seena Frost, founder of SoulCollage®:

For over two thousand years, the archetype of the LightBearer has been foremost in human spiritual life. Certainly, at any rate, this is true in our western world. The Greeks told the story of the mortal Prometheus, who stole fire from the gods and brought it back to humankind. There was Christ, who brought Light into a dark world, and Moses, who brought the light of law. Buddha brought the hope of enlightenment. The light symbol is also present in the Prophet of Islam. Each can be seen as an embodiment of the LightBearer archetype. These examples are, notably, all male. The absence of a powerful feminine archetype over the last few millenniums may well be one cause of the present imbalance in both our worldly and spiritual lives an imbalance that threatens the world and all its living populations.

I am certain that we live in a time when a feminine archetype is rising back into human consciousness, one that has been active and brooding deep in the world’s cosmic subconscious for eons. She is emerging and taking her place beside the male LightBearers not for the purpose of domination but, rather, balance. By adding her strong heart energy and compassionate waters to the light-giving wisdom of the male LightBearers, she restores to our spiritual lives a potent and missing metaphor. I call this archetype the WaterBearer.

This archetypal WaterBearer truly is rising! We are now in the astrological Age of Aquarius, and the traditional symbol of this age is the WaterBearer. This metaphorical Being is usually represented as a feminine archetype. No historical or even mythical characters leap to my mind as embodiments of her in western mythology or religion.


Waterbearer Cards

For several years now, I’ve been taken with empty water jars—or water jars filled with stagnant water. I’ve observed them and felt a tugging at my soul, but didn’t know why. I’ve taken scads of pictures of them, and even painted some of them. Then, last Winter, I made this SoulCollage® card.



I am the one who sees the empty pots.
I am the one who is saddened by all the dryness.
I am the one who knows that we give to others only what we have.
I am the one who is ancient, but I still have something to give…
I see the empty water pots, and I wonder…

Then, earlier this year, in a flurry of active imagination work, I came up with this drawing, and I call her “The Filling Station”.



I am the one who has been filled with living water.
I am the one who has dug the well,
Cleaned it out,
And waited to be filled,
And I am the one who has been filled.
I am the one who now waits to fill others.

Then, probably in May, I made this card.



I am the one who sees empty water pots.
I am the one who’s been on holy ground.
I am the one who’s been in the process of being filled.
I am the one who’s waited until now, and
I am the one with gifts to give.

It wasn’t until July of this year, after I got back from Los Gatos, and read from an old newsletter of Seena’s, that I knew this was my WaterBearer card. And I knew that the waterbearer archetype has been huge in my life.

Still didn’t put it all together until this last weekend…It started on Saturday, this brooding in my Spirit. Wouldn’t you know it!?!

Saturday was the 40th anniversary of Martin Luther King Jr.’s, “I HAVE A DREAM” speech. And the Spirit kept brooding.

Yesterday I almost had a wreck on my way to church envisioning THE WELL.

Are you thirsty? Are you dry? Come to THE WELL.

This morning I have a dream, a place called THE WELL. I know so many women who have just been waiting, being filled, and now they’re waiting to give their gifts. They have water to share. We’ve been in a spiritual drought. The soul is dry and withered. We have water to share. Living water. Clean, pure, cool, WET water.

Now, all we need is a place to share what we have. I don’t have a clue, but I have a dream. I have a vision. It’s a seed. And this morning I plant it—here, now.

I have a vision:

Soul tending through massage
Soul tending through yoga
Soul tending through meditation, centering prayer, listening prayer
Soul tending through journaling
Soul tending through images

Ok. It’s planted. Now, let’s see what needs to happen to get this seed to grow.

Blessed be….

Saturday, August 7, 2010

The Gentle Spirit of SoulCollage® and the Storm Survivor




I am so taken with the gentleness of SoulCollage®. One of the principles of SoulCollage® is “the answers are already inside you; you have everything you need”. And it’s true.

Over the last few years, I’ve gone through my own “dark night”, questioning everything I’ve ever been taught, listening to all the judgments I’ve ever made and questioning my conclusions, and finally deciding for myself what to keep and what to let go of. My questions have been: Who told me that? Do I really believe it? Is it really of value to me? Is it any longer useful in my life?

That’s a hard thing for a 55-60 year old woman to do. My faith, my beliefs, my values, my politics—everything seemed to be caught under the lens of a microscope. It was all turned upside down.

Hebrews 12 tells of just that kind of “shaking”: “Yet once more I will shake not only the earth but also the heaven. This phrase, ‘Yet once more,’ indicates the removal of what is shaken—that is, created things—that what cannot be shaken may remain.”

This piece of dirt called Sheila has been shaken, turned upside down and shaken until her teeth are about to fall out. I never knew that verse even meant my religious beliefs and the values I walked through life by.

I’ve been shaken, and so has my family. And it’s been brutal. I’ve watched the dreams I’ve had for my sons crumble—and I’ve had to grief what I had hoped for them.

But back to SoulCollage®--Thursday was my day to go tape a 30-minute segment for a local TV station. And I had already decided to let intuition run the show—after all, that’s one of the grandest gifts of this process. It believes in and trusts intuition.

So that morning while going through my things and getting my “stuff” together, I happened upon an image that really drew me—a silhouette of family: a mother holding the hands of two children, and a dad kind of off to the side. There were words written across his body, and since he seemed a little distant, I cut out the silhouette of the mother and children and decided not to use him.

I still wasn’t sure I would use this picture, but I thought of it all morning.

And it was the image I used in my demo. I worked with this image and a stormy background. I “knew” she was coming out of the storm.

“I am the one who has walked through the storm, bringing my family with me. I am the one who is now walking into blue skies. The storm has, for the most part, passed. I am walking into blue skies in peace. I have peace in my heart, and peace is my theme. I am a storm survivor.”

After the taping was over, I found out another piece of my family had broken. Somehow, I already knew it. I am sad, for them and for me, but it’s been part of our shaking. And we are all storm survivors. Blue skies are just ahead. We will walk into our tomorrow in peace.

Yesterday morning, I read some of Psalm 18, from Nan Merrill’s book. That Psalm has so been the theme of the last few years for all of us. Somehow, it was the “icing” on the cake and confirmed for me that we are almost through this “shaking”. Thanks be to God.

Psalm 18

I abandon myself to You, O Living Presence, my strength.
You are my rock, my stronghold…my tower of strength…
the source of truth and light.
I call upon You, Heart of my heart,
singing praises to your Name and fear no longer holds me.

The demons of darkness assailed me,
the blindness of ignorance led me astray;
The shadows of fear paralyzed me,
the anguish of loneliness confronted me.
In my distress I called out to You…
You heard my voice…You harkened to my cry.

Then did You, O Divine Presence, show unto me a vision:
the earth reeled and rocked;
the foundations of the mountains trembled
and quaked, as if to slough off the ravages of destruction…
On the wings of the wind, You did come,
with darkness a covering around You,
a canopy of thick clouds dark with water.
Out of the brightness before You
there broke through the clouds hailstones,
coals of fire left from the mountain tops.
As your voice uttered in the heavens,
thunder and lightning stormed the earth…

Yet there was no safe haven,
no hiding place from fear.
Then the channels of the sea were seen,
and the foundations of the world laid bare,
The earth gave a might shudder
then settled down to heal
in Silence.

O compassionate One, You reached
from on high, You took me,
You drew me out of many waters.
You delivered me from the fears
that bound me, and
from ignorance that blinded me;
for they threatened to overcome me,
to separate me from You.
They came upon me when I looked not to You;
yet You, O Merciful One, were ever present.
You brought me forth into the Light;
You released my fears,
You delighted in me.
O Holy One, You see the intentions of my heart;
As I surrender to your love,
I grow in peace and gratitude.
For to lose my life is to find Life;
O keep me steadfast in love
for You, Life of my life!
The spirit of your Word is ever
before me,
the Counselor ever present to guide me…
May I walk with You justly, with mercy
and in peace,
a mirror of you love in the world…

You are the Light of my life;
You shine through my darkness…
You ways lead to wholeness…
How tenderly You live in my heart!

Sunday, August 1, 2010

West Meets East, and a Book Review


This morning a made this SoulCollage® card, Jesus in the Lotus. It’s based on a book that I’ve recently finished, and I’ll discuss the book in a few moments, but as I read the book, and made this card, I pondered this painting I did in 2008.




It’s called “West Meets East”.

The painting of it seemed to heal a split in my soul—the split between East and West that had filtered through much of my Christian teaching as a teen and a young adult. Anything from the East was considered “New Age” and off limits. But the last few years so many of my “splits” have begun to heal, including this one. I’ve ventured into the Eastern thought concepts and found so much more! What I had before was like trying to purchase something with only one side of the coin. Marrying the two, East and West, has given me a whole coin.

We tend to forget that the historical Jesus came from was Middle-East, implying that he was “Middle-Eastern”, more East than West, I presume. Paul, the Apostle, took the Gospel to the West and the western filter has been huge, but Jesus’s filter was probably much different. I recently found out that Galilee lays on the Silk Road, that great viaduct of human commerce which connected the lands of the Mediterranean with the lands and culture of Central Asia and China. The Silk Road went right through the city of Capernaum, where Jesus did a lot of his learning and his teaching.

Who knew??? That wasn’t something I was taught in Sunday School. I’ve studied Scripture all my life, and I’ve studied church history, but no one every pointed out to me this little fact. Or maybe it just didn’t stick.

For a long time, some have thought perhaps Jesus went to India (or East) before his 30’s, but Cynthia Bourgeault points out in her book, The Wisdom of Jesus: Transforming Heart and Mind—a New Perspective on Christ and His Message, that the simpliest explanation for the “eastern” sound to so much of his teaching was because the East more likely came to him!

All that to say this:

Russill Paul’s book, Jesus in the Lotus, the Mystical Doorway Between Christianity and Yogic Spirituality is a beautiful book that expresses so much of what I’ve felt since I opened the door to the East. I’ve practiced centering prayer and Christian meditation off and on for a number of years, and I love my yoga practice. It’s nothing but exercises for the body, but my heart and soul has entered into some of the spiritual pictures yoga has taught me.

And now, Russill Paul gives me this little book. He was a monk at Fr. Bede Griffiths ashram in India for 5 years. I learned about Fr. Bede at the Cenacle. He was simply a saint. And for me, Russill Paul may be on his way. He is Indian, and he was raised in a Hindu culture, but his family was Catholic, and he was Catholic. His stay with Fr. Bede helped him “marry” the two.

Paul, the author, is careful to explain the differences between Christian spirituality and Yogic spirituality, and some of his explanations made my heart leap with “YES, THAT’S why I still choose Christianity!” For example, on of my favorite sections of this book was his sharing of the gifts of Christianity. In our culture today, it’s often hard to say, “I’m a Christian” because of the stereo-type of Christian fundamentalism that has gripped our country, but I choose to still call myself a Christian because of two things: LOVE and community.

Regarding Love, Paul writes: “The Yoga of Jesus is to love, despite the other’s ego, despite their karma, despite their ignorance, for the power of love can transform their ego and their karma and their ignorance. It may not do so immediately, as we evident from Jesus’ death on the cross, but the transformation will take place eventually and will be far more powerful than any other means, for love is the ultimate tool of transformation.”

And regarding community (personally, I have a love/hate affair with community, but I recognize it’s importance)… Granted, community is tough! Relationships are hard, but that’s a distinguishing mark of Christianity according to Paul. He writes: “What distinguishes [Christianity] is its awareness of the power of one’s soul to influence the communal process of enlightenment. From the deeper Christian point of view, individual choice has a role in the grand fulfillment of the universe that has been “groaning in travail.”…Christian enlightenment, then, is the call to actively participate in the Divine vision for humanity…from the Christian point of view, the human response to this cocreated consciousness is prompted by love rather than a desire for truth or even knowledge of the Self….”

One of the other beautiful pictures he gives in his book, is the Yogic desire to reach for God, and the Christian knowledge that God reaches for us…That’s another card I made:




Earth reaching for heaven and heaven reaching for Earth, and the once and for all marriage of the two…spiritual partnership.

Namaste.

Monday, July 26, 2010

The Wisdom and Care of SoulCollage®


SoulCollage® is such a simple tool...yet profound prayer. I've been "feeling" some things over the last couple of months, and those feelings have been pretty well validated over the last few days. And the "boogie bears" of my mind are lurking near. My tendency in this particular situation is to "fear". But when I drew this card as my "neter" of the day, something wonderful happened.

Synchronicity is one of Love's favorite ways to speak into my life, and it always amazes me when it happens.

Andy preached a simple sermon yesterday on the prayer that Jesus taught us. He brought that simple prayer into current day language, then challenged us to do the same. Well, I'm too grown up for that...

But this morning, when I drew this card, that's exactly what happened. I made this card after "bullying" someone about a year ago. It gave me hope that my "Father" still loved me. This morning? It's a whole different message.

As I was pondering my thoughts and feeling my fears, I heard this card speak a whole different message to me:

"Sheila, I am the one who invites you to just walk away. Turn your back on the bullies in your mind that have you hiding in this dark place like a little lost puppy. Leave the pretend demons and dragons of your fears behind, put your hand in mine and just walk away. Leave them be, and come walk with me."


I was reminded of something particular regarding forgiveness that Andy talked about yesterday, so I talked about it with Love, then in my heart, I put my small fearful hand in Love's hand, and walked away from the demons in my mind. I am unable to do anything about the feelings or the fears, or whatever the situation is that stir those feelings and fears, but I can mentally put my hand in Someone's hand and walk away. At least for today.

I've been reading daily from Nan Merrill's Psalms for Praying, an Invitation to Wholeness for a while now. And today after listening to the Wisdom of this card speak to me, I ended my prayer time with Psalm 16...

Remain before me
O Living Presence,
for in You am I safe.
You are my Beloved; in You
I can do all things...
Love is my chosen food, my cup,
holding me in its power.
Where I have come from,
Where'ser I shall go,
Love is my birthright,
my true estate.
I bless the Counselor who guides
my way;
in the night also does my heart
instruct me.
I walk beside the Spirit of Truth;
I celebrate the Light.
Thus my hear is glad,
and my soul
rejoices;
I shall nto be afraid,
nor fall into the pit of despair;
In Love's presence there is fullness
of Joy.
You are my Beloved; in You
will I live.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

Come SoulCollage® With Me - Dancing With The Opposites



I made this card last Thursday, when I gave my first SoulCollage® class. And I love it! Goes to show, sometimes "simple" is best!

I was raised in a black and white world of nice, tidy, little boxes. And everything fit into those nice little boxes: good/bad, black/white, up/down, big/little, right/wrong, us/them, etc. But something happened in 2004 when I drew a black and white mandala of little boxes. Since then, I've begun to dance the dance of the opposites. And I've discovered that a non-black/white world doesn't just lead to wish-washy shades of gray. It makes for COLOR! DIVERSITY! DIFFERENT POINTS OF VIEW! There's a million choices between black and white. There's a billion points of view between right and wrong. And it's a wonderful, wonderful world of color.

I can be a child of both day and night. I can dance between right and wrong and not really KNOW it all. I can be o so much more flexible, and yes, tolerant of others.

When this card spoke to me it said:
"I am the one who dances with the opposites! Come and dance with me. Sprinkle a little color wherevery you go. You no longer have to live on the edge and be fearful of falling off that little tight rope! Everything in between is an adventure in living! Come experience LIFE in technicolor!"

Try it. You'll like it. :)

Thursday, July 22, 2010

Life's Intention

I am forever grateful to a group of women I often refer to as "The Lilies". Some of us have been together so long that I tend to take the "sisterhood" for granted--you know, "familarity breeds contempt". Except it's not "contempt", it's just "for granted", then one of them ignites that fire inside my heart, and I'm re-charged, and off and running again.

Yesterday one of them asked us three questions:

"What do you want to be like when you grow up?"

"How do you get there?"

"When do you begin?"

Sometime or another, all of us need to sit with those three questions and ponder them--and maybe even come up with some kind of answer--if not an answer, at least a general direction to head in. So, I sat and pondered. Then I wrote. But being a firm believer in "imaging", I made a SoulCollage® card to make my intention "concrete".

What do I want to be like when I grow up? Conscience, awake, observant, still growing, tender, grace-filled, open-hearted, compassionate, merciful...What do I want to be like? I still want to be like my teacher, Jesus--except in "Sheila" form.

How do I get there? Just keep walking--onwart, upward, hope-FULL, one day at a time, one moment at a time.

When do I begin? Today, now, this very moment, sitting here at my computer, thinking about the question, and opening my heart and mind to the answer I wrote, right now, fully setting my intention toward it, this very moment, planting this seed deep in my heart.

Monday, July 19, 2010

Coming Home to the Self - from Touchstone (Thanks Tina)



I got this little dittie on email today from a friend. I love it. It's what I truly believe, and it's one reason I do SoulCollage®. SoulCollage® helps me live from the inside out. Read on...

"We are a culture of misfits - not because there is anything wrong with us as a people but because we are accustomed to becoming things we aren't. So we don't fit into our own souls. Our schools put out students to fit the economy, for instance, rather than the heart. Good thinkers go into accounting rather than philosophy because accounting pays more. Fine writers go into law because law is more prestigious. Young people with artistic talent go into computer science because computer programming or hotel management or engineering are full of "opportunities"--real "money" - that a water-colorist lacks.

"The problem is that when we do not do what we are clearly made to do we are doomed. We spend the rest of our lives looking for the missing piece of ourselves that we lost before we knew we had it.

"Then we wonder why the work we do bores us, no matter how many cars we have, no matter how beautiful the vacation house may be. We can't figure out why we still feel restless about life. We wonder what it is that isn't right: the schedule, the children, the marriage, the place.

"We lose a taste for life.

"Then, it is time go give ourselves the space and means to become again. We need to rearrange the furniture of life to make way for the essence of life: We need to set up an easel and paint. We need to start the woodworking we always wanted to do. We need to take the courses we always wish we had. We need to join the book clubs that talk about the things we are interested in discussing. We need to begin to knit and cook and write and garden. We need to do those unfinished, unstarted, undeveloped things in us that ring the bell of bliss and authenticity. Then life will become life again and all the rust of it will wear away. When we become what we know ourselves to be, we will come home to ourselves.
"The rabbis put it this way: "Rabbi," the disciple asked, "what shall I do to be saved?" And the Rabbi said, "How should I know? Abraham practiced hospitality and was saved. Elias loved to pray and was saved. David ruled a kingdom and God was with him. Follow the deepest inclination of your heart and you, too, will be saved."When we live from the inside out rather than from the outside in, everything in life begins to fit."

Sunday, July 18, 2010

SoulCollage® Card #3, There IS a pony in there!!!

This started out being an "archeology" card--an archetype for one who digs in the earth to find treasure, BUT, I could just hear this little one saying, "There REALLY is a pony in here!" I'm sure most of you have heard about the little girl who was shown two rooms, one with a nice gift-wrapped box in it, and the other full of shit! And she chose the room full of it--convinced that under all that stuff was a pony! :) So, I hear her say:

"I am the one who says, 'Keep digging! Don't give up! Look for the PONY!"

I'm a firm believer that everything that comes our way has "pony potential"--there's a vein of gold running through every situation. One of my very favorite passages of Scripture is Job 28. It tells me all about how hard it is to find wisdom and "treasure". It's not easy to keep believing and keep hoping, especially in some of our roughest times. But if we let go and trust the Source of all good gifts, if we keep digging, we'll find the gift.