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.

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.

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)

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”.

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…)

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.