Mini-Blogging Experiment

As the Christmas season approaches, I will be offering a min-blog experiment which I hope to share more widely with friends others.  While stores have opened their doors on Thanksgiving evening (and earlier in many cases), and customers have lined up for early shopping and Black Friday sales... many of us are seeking a deeper and more meaningful way of experiencing this season...a slower and more contemplative way of celebrating. 

Tonight, the candles of the menorah are lit- in deep respect to another tradition- and in honor of religious freedom, gratitude, mystery and miracles.  And on Sunday I will light the first candle of the Advent wreath- the candle of hope.  A Christian tradition with Pagan roots (German peoples were said to have spun a wheel decorated with evergreens and adorned with candles, to bring on the light in those dark winter days...), the Advent wreath is a tradition I have cherished and made my own over the past several years, offering prayers and meditations with each morning's candle lighting. 

My personal re-creation of the Advent ritual is neither Pagan nor Christian, though it draws on the spirit of ancient peoples who longed for light in the dark cold winter, and of those who have found hope in a powerful story of divine love incarnated. Bowing to the wisdom of our religious traditions, I offer a personal ritual for our human story that is centered on the spiritual pillars of those five candles.  While candle meanings and colors vary depending on who you ask,  I have chosen hope, love, joy, and peace- with patience at the center- as the attributes around which I will reflect in the coming weeks.  Love, joy, and peace are what we hope for and long for most fully in our lives and in our world.  May we in this season of Advent create a space for the soul, a space of preparation and openness, of patient and expectant waiting, of hopeful possibility for the birthing of our lives into fullness. 

I invite you to join me in walking this Advent Journey over the 25 days of Christmas. To follow, please visit: http://creatingspaceforthesoul.wordpress.com/

 

The Gift of Brokenness and Vulnerability

With tears in the corners of both our eyes, she told me how my vulnerability was a gift to her.  How seeing me full of emotion, sometimes with tears even as I spoke from the pulpit, had brought comfort and allowed her to open herself more.  She wasn't the first person to tell me this, and as she spoke I was reminded too of my minister in a former congregation I attended a few years back.  I was reminded of how her frequent tears and emotional expressions were for me a salve, an expression of our common humanity.  They provided a compassionate connection between people, a link from minister to congregant, a knowing that my spiritual leader was not a superhero or a savior but a human being filled with a brokenness and pain similar to mine.

I am not an ordained minister.  But I have been told by many that they look to me as a spiritual guide.  It was this affirmation and repeated asks for companioning that allowed me to recognize my call as a spiritual director.

As I consider my own emotional fragility, I recognize that I might be a little embarrassed.  I have made great strides into living a more whole and integrated life. I have done this with the aid of many good friends, counselors and spiritual guides....  But I still have pieces that are in need of healing.  As I've grown closer to integrating parts of myself into more public light, I have not wanted to be seen as broken, never fully getting this one piece of my life that needs healing into balance. I have not wanted to be continually weak and dependent, and have been embarrassed that I cannot step fully into the person I imagine myself to be. I have not wanted anyone to see me as less than that image- that persona- a spiritual guide, full of light and life and wholeness.

But can there be wholeness without the recognition of shadow? And there is a shadow.  I see that shadow, I know her.  She is not everything, but she is a part of me.

In recent weeks I have pulled away from some of those good friends, counselors and spiritual guides who have helped me. I have felt I must learn to rely on myself because in the long run I am the only one I can depend on.  I recognize the unhealthiness of this thinking and write it now simply as a way of catching it in action.

In fact I write all this now as confession, as ways of acknowledging the foolishness of pride.  I notice this false thinking that has everything to do with ego and a lack of self-acceptance.  I notice and I catch it and I seek to redeem it with a written act of contrition that embraces the wholeness of who I am.

It is the woman who told me what my tears meant to her who reminded me... that there is room- and often necessary space- for a broken heart.  There is room for my vulnerability and pain- not to get lost in my story- but for the compassion to shine through.  It is compassion built on seeing that recognizes a kindred soul that has known its own  brokenness and loss, and risks connection.

And so it is, as this woman's words remind me, that the vulnerability and brokenness that I have been trying to hide are in actuality the gift- the gift to myself and to others, waiting to be opened, to be revealed, to be seen.

Growing Edges

Today I completed my final training session in the Art of Spiritual Guidance. The past fifteen months of training have opened so many doors in my soul.  Perhaps the most important lesson I have learned is to listen to my inner truth and to grow in integrity.  I am listening...and I am growing still.

Tonight it occurred to me that I may be afraid of some of those growing edges, and it may be time to move beyond a particular comfort zone.  There is nothing innately wrong with the comfort zone- like the fire at the hearth, it creates a place of home and belonging.  But at what point does a comfort zone start to hinder my own growth?  Perhaps my place of service is now in new territories, not yet explored, and the challenge is to say 'yes' to what is before me, to what I am walking into, to what might scare me in its uncertainty...but ultimately to what I am being called to do.

So today I practice exploring those growing edges.  I begin simply with observing my reactions: to notice what irks me, what causes me to cling tighter, what leads me to fear.  And how am I responding?  That is the next step.  But if I can notice and name what I am afraid of, then I can clear space for calling...space for the still small voice within. 

The Gift

A poem (below*) was posted on large white paper on the wall of the dining hall at work today.  I am not certain how the retreat group that posted these words planned to use them...but they were certainly meaningful to me as I am in the midst of preparing for my final weekend of spiritual direction training.  So many questions still remain, and yet it is in holding with gentle hands each individual's story and questions that I discover with wonder the gift...the blessing I have been seeking.

This lesson- the gift of another human being's presence- struck me on Sunday when attending the memorial service of an older man in my congregation who recently died.  The service was held at a nearby synagogue.  I remember this man, named Hal, telling me about his Jewish tradition and how he liked to attend services there on the high holy days.  He also had a Jain guru, in line with his vegetarianism and animal rights activism. Hal was a seeker, and found a camaraderie in the Unitarian Universalist community... in one of our last conversations I remember standing before a large framed poster of historic Unitarian and Universalist figures that hangs in our fellowship hall, and chatting about these famous members of our living tradition  .... together making some connection to these seekers of truth and activists for justice.

I am thinking about this poster in the context of my interfaith spiritual direction program. One of the assignments I have been given this past year has been to visit houses of worship from the world's religions and to observe with my senses the sacred symbols, imagery, sounds, around me. I am reminded of the Kwan Yin statue at Blue Cliff Monastery and the sound of the mindfulness bell; the high altar and Hebrew lettering on a plaque at Temple Beth Shalom and the Kaddish read around a grave.  I close my eyes and see the Christian cross and sing along with a communion line- "One Bread, One Body".  And my mind drifts back to my Muslim encounters- a Sufi retreat day and visit to a Sufi mosque- the prostrations, the dancing,  the music of the Turkish neys.

But what are the holy symbols and sounds of our Unitarian Universalist congregation?  The chalice of course holds the sacred flame.  And beyond this we appear quite busy, as a gallery of art graces the walls of the sanctuary.  We share our space with a school, so their belongings and supplies fill our classrooms.  The large poster board of people like Susan B. Anthony, Clara Barton, and James Reeb is our living legacy and religious symbol- the lives of people who have gone before us and left their footprints of brave lives on this earth.  It is an inspiring symbol, and also calls each of us to notice and uphold the power of our own choices and actions.

It is also inspiring to me that our faith is best represented in the lives of human beings.  Each of us flawed persons is a gift, and we do not need to be famous or celebrated on a poster to .  At the memorial service, I heard person after person describe Hal with humor, caring, and love.  I heard stories I did not know about him- about his care for clients as a social worker, his work with soldiers on issues of depression and spousal abuse, his tender care for friends, homeless people and cats. Tears mingled with laughter, and I saw and held my few short memories of Hal in a larger celebration of his life.

It is truly a gift it is to be human with all our questions and yearnings- and to witness and hold another's human life is blessing, a glimpse of the divine.  While we may do this naturally and well in a memorial service, the challenge is also to behold the gift of each human being we encounter with attention and presence in daily life, to see and to celebrate each person's fullness. I pray that I may create the space and take the time to unwrap the gift of the human life and to honor it in the many encounters with divinity that fill my days.


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                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                * The Gift, by Denise Levertov                                                          


Just when you seem to yourself
nothing but a flimsy web
of questions, you are given
the questions of others to hold
in the emptiness of your hands,
songbird eggs that can still hatch
if you keep them warm,
butterflies opening and closing themselves
in your cupped palms, trusting you not to injure
their scintillant fur, their dust.
You are given the questions of others
as if they were answers
to all you ask. Yes, perhaps
this gift is your answer.

Learning to Trust

I have been struggling with trust a lot lately, and the question- Who can I trust?- resounds.  My spiritual director cast the light back onto me- But do you trust yourself?

It was an interesting way to cast the light, and when cast that way, the shadows appeared.  I noticed the way I have been holding some individuals in judgment because I have felt let down or hurt by their actions. I've become distracted away from self-examination and cast my gaze outwardly. And in doing so, I've lost sight of that inner knowing that guides me.

Trusting myself means listening to the voice of conscience- the voice that says I must do something difficult because it is the ethical thing to do.  Because I cannot be a channel of light if I am impeded by lies- lies I tell to myself or to others about who I am.

Do I trust myself?  Today I made a difficult decision to open up about some of my shortcomings in a clear and honest way.  This was very hard for me to do.  I so wanted to reach a goal that I could simply not attain.  But there are no shortcuts, and speaking from the heart, I saw the ways in which I had missed the mark.

I give credit to much of my spiritual and ethical growth to my faith community as I am encouraged and challenged there to become my best self.  The idea that Unitarian Universalism is an 'anything goes' religion is misleading, I think. There is a perception that the UU path might be an easy one- with principles instead of commandments, covenants instead of creeds, sources instead of one sacred text.  The choices seem so endless that it might appear that a person could pick and choose his/her own morality without accountability.  In our Unitarian Universalist faith there is no ritual for confession, no season of atonement....nor is there a set of spiritual disciplines or a particular contemplative practice that one might follow as a clear straight pathway to God (however a person might choose to define- or not define- that concept).

And yet- I believe- the view that 'anything goes' is misconception. As a religion, the faith path I have chosen provides a clear and real way forward from contemplation to action, from mysticism to prophecy, from spirituality to justice. While there is a rich history to call upon, a great deal of the way- or ways- is yet to be defined, and lies in the hands of our spiritual leaders and communities to pave. Commitment in community is the ingredient that moves us from spirituality to religion. If we get stuck in the highs of our individual spiritual experiences and are unwilling to let go, we have encountered an ego trap.  It is in letting go of our attachment to that joyous encounter and learning to become it in the center of a world that is constantly shaking with injustice, rupturing with chaos, and overrunning with brokenness that we help create the goodness we seek.

This is also the path that helps us to lead moral lives. What is morality but authenticity, a mirror into wholeness? And if we might look at sin that way also- not as some breaking of human-made laws, but as a transgression against our own deepest conscience and inner knowing- than a ritual of confession in community might bring us closer to wholeness.

Knowing that I can express my shortcomings and still be held and loved and encouraged to a better way allows me to trust others. Trusting myself means listening deeply to the voice of conscience and honoring that in me which is most good- that which yearns for truth and acts from a place of deeper honesty, humility, kindness, and truth.  Then and only then can I be a vessel for light.

These are thoughts I have come to as I walk this path.  It isn't exactly the path I thought I would be walking.  But all paths have their turns....and sometimes- as I discovered quite literally recently on a 'contemplative walk'- their forest fires!  Perhaps the fire is a signal that it is time to get back onto the road, a wake-up call to walk in the world, not out of it, but to carry that inner knowing and clearness as I live from the place of good within me.

So I am learning to trust myself by learning to live with greater authenticity...and I am accountable to a community and living tradition that encourages me into being my best and fullest self as an integral piece in the collective work toward restoring the wholeness of our world.



  

Wisdom in Unknowing

There is wisdom in unknowing.  Wisdom in the in between time- when so much is budding, and the imperative to rush and fill in the blanks of an unknown future is hard to resist.  But there is wisdom in waiting, in allowing life to unfold on its own, as we simply cherish and appreciate all that has come to bring us to this present moment.

The present moment is rich.  Next week I will experience my final spiritual direction training session at Silver Bay retreat and conference center, and I will celebrate with my cohorts and graduate a certified spiritual director.  The past fourteen months has been packed with blessings and with challenges.  Tomorrow morning I will meet with a directee, and I know there will be blessings in the encounter as we seek and know the holy. This path is sacred.

At work, things are changing too.  Doors have opened, and I see the commitment and leadership I can offer to creating wholeness and well-being among staff; I have begun to bring my soul to work, and in that offering to create a program where we are sustained and nurtured spiritually.

In my congregation, the blessings are present.  Over the past few months, space has opened for me to share these gifts with my fellow congregants, with the support of a wonderful minister and congregation that also cares about me and my self-care. The challenge here is to temper my own enthusiasm- to watch and to deepen in the places where I already stand, to open and cast down roots into the tender soil, so I am secured, committed, involved- rather than rushing into the ego trap of 'do it all'.

In my family, there is gratitude.  My husband and I are growing and learning together. Children are growing their gems of goodness, their compassionate hearts.  There are still those rocky moments, but we are supported and held.

I am appreciative of my UU community for helping to nurture family also.  This- as part of the congregation's whole RE program- has allowed us to grow spiritually together.  Seeing the Unitarian Universalist path as one of ethical development rooted in faith tradition and nurtured by community, I offer my own support to this mix as a spiritual director, and see what is growing in my children as proof of a living tradition.  For this I am grateful.

Doors have opened to allow me to walk into greater public ministry... I am not certain yet how I will step through them, but opportunities have arisen.  I've received acceptance as a lay community minister by the Unitarian Universalist Society for Community Ministries (UUSCM), and I have been offered space to offer spiritual direction at the Hope Center in Newburgh.  Recently I have also been given the incredible opportunity to lead the next cohort for New (under-40 years old) Contemplatives at Spiritual Directors International 2014 Conference in Santa Fe.  I am excited and energized to accept these calls and to step forward in my commitment in public ministry, in service- but I am also cautious that my steps be guided and rooted in Spirit.

It is all pretty astonishing-- all the richness of this life, all the opening.  And yet, over and over, the most important wisdom lies in the silence, in the waiting, in the space between.  God calls through the cracks, through the openings, through the pauses, through the space between breaths-- like water through rock, like stream through crevice.  Loving me, sustaining me, allowing me to simply be.  And even as I sense the overwhelm- the moving beyond the security of the known into the places I have yet to travel- I hear the words of Thomas Merton singing in me- "My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going... I do not see the road ahead of me...."

Perhaps I see many possible roads, but where these lead, I have no idea.  But I am not lost.  For there is wisdom in unknowing, wisdom in letting go, wisdom in trust. Wisdom in living fully into that great mystery, that great question of Life.