Simple Day

FOR TODAY August 5, 2009
prompted by The Simple Woman's Daybook

Outside my window the skies are gray. I see a mixture of plum colored leaves and pale green gently swaying in the breeze.

I am thinking I could get up and do something, but it feels pretty cozy right here. (note i switched 'should' for 'could'.)

I am thankful for the opportunity to linger.

From the kitchen I am sipping a slightly warm cup of coffee that I wish was just a little hotter.

I am wearing my Life is Good pj’s – sunshine yellow and orange with little flip flops all over them. They make me happy ☺.

I am creating this post.

I am going to work on my upcoming day retreat called “Return Home to Yourself”.

I am reading “The Bean Trees” by Barbara Kingsolver

I am hoping my summer cold only lasted one day (yesterday.)

I am hearing a gentle fan, distant traffic noises and my own silence.

Around the house all is quiet.

One of my favorite things is having a new day spread before me with open possibilities.

A few plans for the rest of the week: writing, reading, resting, gardening and getting my hair done. Whoopee. Also wondering if I will summon the courage to go to a community drum circle this week?!??!?

My picture thought is called "a crate of possibilities". Taken in Maine, 7/09

What possibilities fill your crate this simple day?

Sacred Sunday

Last Sunday I shared a poem about the six senses of God. Here is another one I uncovered in my archives. Wishing you a peace and sensory-filled day!!

More Than Enough

God smells like cinnamon. Baby's breath. Fresh baked bread. Warm cookies. Sewer Swamp. Compost. Earthen Clay.

God tastes like sweet mint. Red wine. Honey on scones. The lips of a lover. The skin of a baby.

God sounds like thunder. Silence. A bird's call. An infant's cry. My heart beating. Laughter & tears.

God feels like safety. Warm arms wrapped around me. Snug. Gentle. Distant. Knowing. Unknown. Filling every sense of my body.

God looks like the wind. The smile of a child. Weather-worn face. Toothless grin. Rock. Sand. Feather. Life. Death. New birth. Bloody war.

My sixth sense says, "Ahhhhh. Awe. Stop asking questions. Just be. Just be, my dear one."

photo by h3images ©

Voiceless Chick - part 2

There is something really incredible about using the arts to break open areas of our life that might otherwise remain stuck in our heads. When I consider Voiceless Chick, I can give you all sorts of psychological reasons about why she is in my life – and they are highly evolved assessments...just ask me ☺. So, one might think that with all of that knowledge, I could keep VC from showing up. Unfortunately it’s not quite that simple. The understanding is helpful and as I mentioned yesterday, I realize it is important for me to listen when my stuck chicks show up.

The beauty of using arts such as collage, journaling and poetry to help process is that they give us a view from a new angle. (Right brain. Left brain. You know the drill.) I have been using Julia Cameron’s morning pages for more than five years now. Some days they feel like drivel and other times if I stick with it I find words flowing out that were buried deep inside. Often they feel otherworldly as though a Source greater than I is writing.

If I follow the process, there is often a visible shift in the voice in which I write. This happened while contemplating VC. The portion I shared yesterday was written in first person. The continuation shared here has a shift to second person.

You are just a little girl.
Close your eyes and breathe.
Listen to your inner voice.
It is strong and clear.
Listen and calm yourself with
your inner voice of authority.

My hand is here.
You are safe.
I hear your pleas.
Yes, my child,
You have a voice.
A voice within you that you and
I can hear.

You are not crazy.
You will not disappear.
You are made of light.
Pure light.
Lucy of the light.

Yes, they may talk and
whisper behind your back, but
You have a voice.
You have reclaimed it.
You can be calm in the midst of this storm.
Your voice is valid.

You have hands to reach down and
take the gag from your mouth.
You have tools.
Inner strength and authority.
You have me to help you speak.
I spoke and you listened.

So, what do you make of this? Do you think I need to be committed to a mental hospital since I am hearing voices? Or is this something to which you can relate? How do the arts play into your spiritual walk? Who might be your stuck chicks waiting to receive a voice?

partial collage by lucy 7.31.09

Voiceless Chick

The always creative BlissChick has invited us to work on our “stuck chicks.” I recently came face to face with one of my biggies, Voiceless Chick. Now, many who know me, whether in person or via blog, might question the presence of Voiceless Chick (VC), since I usually appear to have something to say.

VC, however, is a strong hanger-on in my life. She doesn’t show up often, but when she does I really need to pay attention. It is through paying attention to her that I find my voice. She isn’t trying to shut me down (which is what it can feel like). She’s actually trying to help me move forward.

Yesterday I created this collage to represent VC. Today I spent time making space for what the collage needed to say. Here are the words that arose:

I see her eyes pleading with me.
Help me speak.
Help me find my voice.
Only you can help me.

They whisper inside my head and behind my back.
Shutting me down.
Keeping my gut in turmoil.
It is not safe.
Not safe here.
There is a silent scream somewhere,
but even it is hidden.

I want to scream.
To yell.
To pound.
But I am voiceless.

So, I shut my eyes and
hope it will all go away.
But I am the one who starts to disappear.
Silence.
Silence.
Silence.

But the silence is only on the outside.
It is anything but silent within.
Shut the F up.
Shut up.
Take this and keep your mouth shut.
Like raw meat stuffed inside me,
I gag.
I want to roar,
but I choke on my words.

The chaos and confusion swirl.
Still she pleads with me.
Help.
Help me.
I have words.
I am not safe here.
Take me away.
Make the voices stop.
Why are they so loud and I am so silent?

(to be continued…)

Who is your stuck chick? (btw—chicks come in both genders.) Do you try to ignore and silence this chick? Or are you willing to listen to what he/she may have to teach you? Where/when does your Voiceless Chick show up?

vision

we never really know what resides inside of someone until we choose to sit still and listen very closely...perhaps with our eyes closed...

hopefully when we open them again our vision will be changed.