Category Archives: Spiritual Well Being

A Maverick, and Alone

Have you ever come to a place in your thought life, where you felt like a maverick adventurer; going forward to places those around you had never been, nor ever thought of going?  Or did you find yourself, with a bit of trepidation, thinking thoughts, toying with philosophies you had been trained were dangerously wrong, maybe evil? And you felt like you were all alone; yet, you had no choice but to press forward?  Then, wonder of wonders, by chance, a book falls into your hands and in the pages you find much of your biography, your musings, attributed to a fictional character by some author halfway across the continent whom you have never met. At once you realize, with joy, that you are not alone.  That is the kind of book I want to write. This has happened to me frequently enough in my life that I want to-not return the favor, but – pass it on.

I am two chapters in to a book by Brian D McLaren, The Story We Find Ourselves In. I am finding myself in this book. I hope to go on finding myself the rest of my life. Sometime around Christmas a good friend and confidant gave me a copy of McLaren’s, A New Kind of Christian, which I thoroughly devoured and passed on to another friend. While ordering an additional copy to keep on hand, I decided to order the sequel also. I must admit, I am not a fan of sequels.  I could have been perfectly content after the first Pirates of the Caribbean, or the first National Treasure. But this second in the series by McLaren?  This is a page turner for me. I am not alone.  I have never been alone, just tardy.  I am behind the pack, somewhat due to my own late blooming characteristic, and much to the fault of those who dutifully discipled me with harangue and shame. I am an adult now, and it is time for me to mentor others and encourage them along. Many writers and scholars are ahead of me-but as fast as I read and think, I should catch them soon- even while going back to rescue breathe for others who are languishing like I was. Someday, we can all party together.

Here are some books that changed my life:  1) The Robe, by Lloyd C. Douglas; 2) Out of the Silent Planet, Perelandra, The Great Divorce, Surprised By Joy – all by C.S. Lewis; 3) A New Kind of Christian and The Story We Find Ourselves In, by Brian McLaren.

What books have changed your life? Blown off the ceiling for your dreams and philosophies?

My Answer

I have decided to throw myself on God’s Mercy and Grace, rather than to stand stubbornly in my own rags of self-righteousness,  weathering the storm on my own strength by declaring that I will keep my word.  What strength do I have?  None.  What strength does God have?  The Universe! 

This is one more application of the 12 Steps to Recovery provided by Alcoholics Anonymous.  The steps I am thinking of today go something like this:  I admit that I am powerless and my life unmanageable. I believe that a Higher Power can restore me to sanity. I am seeking to increase contact with that Higher Power through meditation and meditative walks.

If this sounds interesting to you, check out these links: http://hazelden.org/

http://www.recovery-man.com/coda/codependency.htm and be sure and read some of the books on my favorite books page!

Walk at Sunset and Dusk

My disappointment at the late start of my daily walk, was deepened by the frosty wind that stung my nose. The sun had dipped and the temperature was falling.  Then I crested the nearest and tallest hill and saw the lights of the city spread out below me, beginning to twinkle. Turning to retrace my steps (it really was time to be getting home), I thoroughly enjoyed an unexpected pink sunset tucked between low clouds and the bastion of red rocks and canyons to the west.  I love small joys, they keep me chipper.

And then…..

Walk at dusk,

Snowy owl;

Hooting toward the perch

of friend or mate,

Flew across my path

And lit on small gazebo

Making wide the silhouette of weather vane.

There it sat, cooing softly,

So sounding like a dove it made me look again

Ears feline atop plump body, avian

Happy New Year!

My prayer for me for the new year, hence, my prayer for others:
                              Wisdom 
                               Grace
                               Success
                               Abundance 
                               Love
                               Joy
                               Serenity
                               Health
                                                May it be, God.

Can I really pray these things/wish these things for everyone in my acquaintance? Or, is there some reserve? Something held back that whispers, “No success for HIM, though. ” Or “No abundance for HER. She doesn’t deserve it.” Or perhaps, “No serenity for THAT ONE! Until they come to their senses…”
Yes, I can afford to pray these for everyone. I want to wish these on everyone. No making the list and checking it twice, no caveat that says, “exclude that individual from success, abundance or serenity, because they have been naughty, not nice.” No shortages. Plenty for all. You do not steal from my abundance or serenity when you have the same. May this be the best year ever – for you-and for me!

Happy Day After Christmas To You!

How did you wake up this morning?  Elated?  Deflated?

Most of us are mature and experienced enough to exercise caution when it comes to the holidays.  We know the pitfalls – be they social and familial or social and ingestible – and we prep our minds, if not our bodies, for them.  We know not to expect too much.  We don’t want to be disappointed in the holidays; we just want to survive the holidays. It really came as no surprise to me that it took an extra two hours of dozing and subconscious working through of issues – both psychological and nutritional—Followed by the writing of five pages in my journal, to be ready to meet this day after Christmas. The big revelation, however, is that there exists a holiday backlash – be your holidays good or bad!  It takes just as much emotional energy to process the good that exceeds our expectations, as it does to process disappointments. I am an old and cracked vessel and must be careful not to burst in the ferment of JOY and WONDER. I have had a good life, of late, and it is almost more than I can bear.  Happy Day After Christmas to you!

Snow Delirious

I know now why deer do that little sideways hop.  I did it myself this afternoon in the sun and the snow out along the ridge. What a luxury to be free and out walking in the full sun just before it nodded in the west. The foot of snow we got last week has diminished and receded from the large boulders in sculpted, bevel-edged swoops and hollows; but the crackling fog cloud of this morning built long, sparkling, luxurious crystals on all the remaining snow drifts.  Mud is scarce and the snow delightfully squishy and plentiful. My booted feet craved to burrow in the crunchy snow dunes with the same motion used bare in the Pacific beach sands way back in summer.  My gloved hands irresistibly, ravenously, reached toward the untouched, minute shards of ice.  This is material, tangible, hunger and desire at its best, for its fulfillment is abundant and freely had- a daily gift from the creator. Oh, the delicious out of doors and sunshine!

Wounded and Broken Hearted

“What I don’t want to be is wounded and never healed.  I don’t want to die of a broken heart, only to discover that I had the means to mend it, but waited for someone else to see the need and meet it.  Codependency is such a two edged sword. I spent my whole life doing for others, in the hope that someone would see my need and do for me.  I didn’t feel it was right to meet my own needs.  When I noticed that I had needs or desires, I ignored them, or outright denied them-rejected them and told them to go away. It seemed so self-centered if I paid attention to myself.  Never-the-less, while I ignored the desires of my heart and self-sacrificially gave to meet the needs of others, my reserves to give were dwindling. “But,” I reasoned to myself, “It’s not self-sacrifice if you have unlimited reserves, is it?” Deep down, I knew that this giving thing, ministering, serving; is supposed to be reciprocal. No one was filling my well back up and I became starved, parched, and finally:  resentful” (Excerpted from a work in progress, “Before I Went Crazy.”).

Dear Reader, As you go about your Thanksgiving and Christmas preparations, I encourage you to take some time to care for yourself; to be about the business of fulfilling your own God-given destiny.  Yes, serve and minister to others- but, not to a fault.  Take care that you do not do it to the point of exhaustion and resentment.

 

The Desires of the Heart

I believe that it is healthy for a person to follow his or her dreams.  I am not talking here of nonsensical, unrealistic, idle daydreams.  I am referring to God given desires of the heart which are inherent in the temperament one is born with. I am talking about dreams that are the substance of what I am meant to be. The deep, sometimes secret, desires that will not be squashed, will not be denied, no matter how hard I try to distract myself with other busyness and obligation.

In addition to embracing the emotional and spiritual health that comes from pursuing the person I am meant to be, via following my dreams and passions; I continue to ask the God of the universe to grant me good vision-the perception to know the good thing when I see it. It is not always easy to see the dream when you are living it.  The cliché, “Can’t see the forest for the trees,” expresses it simply.

The Innovative Minister of Music

There was a time, at the tender age of 29; that I thought my life was over, washed up, truncated, and I would never get to see my dreams fulfilled no matter how long I lived.  That dream, which had been instilled in me as a child, was that I was destined for full time ministry. At 29 I was recently divorced, but all the passions to serve and minister were still intact. I already knew that maverick leadership and ministry carries tough challenges.   It is difficult to minister effectively without a Paraclete, a sidekick or right hand man.  Imagine Batman without Robin, Roy Rogers without Dale Evans-or even Simon without Garfunkel. Nevertheless, I determined to move forward.  Being alone and divorced seemed insurmountable and I spent a number of days grieving that I would never be able to fulfill my calling.  Some 18 months later the realization began to dawn that I was ministering full-time; just not in the traditional way I had always envisioned it.

I was teaching piano lessons to 20 young people each week, enriching those little lives and building into their futures.  I was working 20 hours per week as a radio announcer for a nonprofit station, ministering to listeners in the most lonely hours of the evening and weekend.  And, I was raising a uniquely gifted son who would go on to influence a broader audience (with more confidence) than I ever had.

All the World’s a Stage

Playing piano and radio announcing make an easy morph (metamorphosis) to a passion for performance.  I could not ignore the siren call of the stage, the studio, the microphone, though I was fearful and timid.  Today I can say, “I have found my stage.”  Of all places: in the classroom. Yes, there is a designated body of information I must teach; narrow parameters to what I can do with my creativity.  But, my classroom is my stage.  I have 27 minutes in which to wow my audience; to leave them laughing or pondering a new concept. I have 27 minutes to minister to 27 wiggly (or apathetic) bodies and provide them an opportunity to become better, to broaden their body of knowledge and experience, to taste performance.  I am who I am meant to be. I am living my dream.  I am doing all I can do to empower them to live theirs-to be all they can be.

The Rose Bush

The rose bush is still blooming.author

Three new buds present, unopened on the upper stakes of the vermillion bush.  Yesterday I brought a half blown rose to the little vase on my dining table to replace the wilted specimen from last week. I have had fresh roses on my table for two months.

The rose bush that someone landscaped 20 years ago and carefully tended in the small backyard of this rental townhouse is still blooming.  I am grateful to that caring person for giving verve and color to the small private space. I acknowledge that no hard freeze has yet struck our neighborhood. I am also aware that the enduring beauty and survival of blooms is partly due to my careful watering, attentiveness and consistent pruning. 

May I exercise that same care and stewardship over my own comings and goings so that I bloom far into the winter!

I love to walk

a fine inspiring walkI love to walk.  Walking is a habit, an addiction, something as necessary for my well being as sleep or food; music and written words.

I love to walk; but, not for transportation.  I do not really enjoy destination walking.  Walking for transportation or to a prearranged destination inevitably carries with it a deadline; some sort of stress or reason to arrive by a certain time, looking a certain way.  Besides, destination walking often takes one parallel to traffic noise of every sort and on concrete sidewalks that jolt one’s joints.

Walking for exercise or meditation is quite flexible; and therefore, inspiring. One constantly has choices and makes benign decisions. On impulse I can change my course; live a bit on the wild side, or have a mini adventure simply by taking a path I have never been down (or up) before. If my cogitations and ruminations take a little longer than expected, I can walk around an extra block or butte until I get the niggling knots thought out. If I spy a rainbow (five times in the last three months), a superlative invoking sunset, or light reflecting through the ever changing autumn colors just so; I can take time to pause and reflect on that fleeting moment of nature’s beauty.

Walking for recreation or meditation is not the same as aimless wandering.  It has purpose and a malleable goal. It simultaneously invigorates, relaxes and empowers; leaving me refreshed and energized to stand on my own two feet in other situations large and small.