Blissed to be a Witness

I am blissed to be a witness. You read it correctly – no typo. I am BLISSED to be a witness. Last week I traveled home to the Key Peninsula, the site of Soltura workshops. No, I don’t live there physically. Seattle is still my place of residence. But, my soul returned to its bliss-filled home where joy, light, love, laughter, fear, darkness, peace, conflict, death and life can all be safely experienced…and witnessed.

As I have journeyed on my path toward authentic life, I have come to know myself and the places where I feel most alive and connected. Many of those places have been witnessed by those who read here. I find joy in the simplest of things. A jellyfish. My garden. Friends. Nature. Reading. Writing.

Yesterday while driving across Lake Washington with my i-pod shuffling around, Ben Harper’s song, Blessed to be a Witness, came on and I experienced one of those bliss-filled moments. It dawned on me that the sense of contentment that has flowed through my veins for the last week was connected to my experience of being a witness to other’s journey toward authentic living.

Witnessing life is an honor and an amazing privilege. It takes me out of a me-me-me state of mind, and in the process brings me back to my truer self. I am indeed blessed and blissed to be a witness.

This is not a totally new concept to me, but it is one of those special realization moments that I desire to share – lest I forget. So, consider yourself a witness today. ☺

What are the moments you have experienced the power of being a witness? Do share!

Peace and bliss-filled blessings to you!

"heart in the sky" 6.09 - lakebay, wa

rites of passage

If you haven’t checked out my tagline recently, now would be a good time. The more I learn, the less I know. It seems whether it be about self-exploration or broadening horizons in general, this axiom holds true. Beginning the road to self-discovery is enlightening and it is a bit like opening Pandora’s box. There’s really no going back once you’ve started. And just when I think I’ve looked at every aspect of my personal being (or not), something new pops up. It really is the beauty of being an unfinished woman.

My latest case in point came as I was reading William Bridges classic book, Transitions. In it Bridges talks about rights of passage and how the modern culture has basically done away with formal markings of passage. Thus we have to make up our own and it is not usually done with any intentionality in mind. It may just kind of happen. Bridges says:

“It’s worth reflecting on this early transition (i.e. coming of age) in your life because that point may set the style for your later transitions.”

Being the ponderer that I am, I spent some time with Bridges’ suggestion. And here is what I discovered:

It often takes a really BIG stick to move me out of an established pattern and into transition. You know…things like, say, near death experiences. Mine have been more in the spiritual, emotional and even metaphorical realm, but I also had huge life transitions after each of my parents’ physical death.

This “big stick” theory led me to recall the midwife who helped birth my son saying “You have a really high tolerance for pain.” Yep. I can put up with a lot for a really long time before the pain finally gets to be too much. This can be both a very positive trait (Parenting is a great example as is working as a psychotherapist); AND it can be harmful in terms of my own health (spiritual, emotional and physical). The cool thing is with this new knowledge, I can decide if and how I want to proceed since I might pick up on my pattern a little sooner. Actually, I believe I have already started to do so. This new knowledge just gives a different way to frame how and why I repeat patterns in my life.

My invitation today is that you, too, consider Bridges’ suggestion. What did the early transition in your life look like? When did you “know” you were no longer a child? Can you see ways this ‘right of passage’ has followed you into adulthood? I’m going to keep pondering. I hope you will too!

photos from bermuda, 5.09

fun friday

So, both of these things came into my mailbox today and I couldn't resist putting them together.

"Whatever you give a woman, she will make greater. If you give her sperm, she'll give you a baby.
If you give her a house, she'll give you a home. If you give her groceries, she'll give you a meal.
If you give her a smile, she'll give you her heart. She multiplies and enlarges what is given to her.
So, if you give her any crap, be ready to receive a ton of shit."

So...do you think there's a woman on the other side of that window?

reminders

The days are full - long - bright. I sit for a few moments this morning gathering my thoughts.

My candles burn - one labeled, "togetherness"; the other "everyday sacred." A stone of black sits at their base and reminds me of the earth and darkness that complements and threatens the light. A spiraling shell represents water and so much more. Finally, a pure white feather whispers to me of air.

Words float everywhere around me - in books - music - my mind. The music reminds me to breathe and my old friend, Merton, speaks to me of the beauty of this time of day when night turns into morning. When everything is new and possibilities abound.

"The fire of a wild white sun has eaten up the distance between hope and despair.
Dance in this sun, you tepid idiot. Wake up and dance in the clarity of perfect contradiction." --Thomas Merton

What are your reminders today? Will you take time to notice the beauty that abounds?

photo by lucy from st. andrew's retreat center 5.09

still transitioning?

As I continue to sit in a very transitional place in my life - I wonder are we always in transition? William Bridges in his book, Transitions, says: "Every transition begins with an ending. We have to let go of the old thing before we can pick up the new one - not just outwardly, but inwardly." It feels like I am always letting go of something. Something ending. Something beginning. Some times it is joyful. Other times heartbreaking. Letting go of even the hard stuff is not easy. Welcoming in the good can be terrifying.

Mark Nepo offers a quote that has stayed with me for several days. I am offering it here so my transitional brain might hold onto these thoughts.

I have been broken and have failed so many times that my sense of identity has sprouted and peeled like an onion. But because of this, I have lived more than my share of lives and feel both young and old at once, with a sudden heart that cries just to meet the air. Now, on the other side of all I've suffered so far, everything, from the quick song of birds to the peace trapped inside a fresh brook's gurgle, is rare and uncertain. Now I want to stand naked before every wind; and though I'm still frightened I will break, I somehow know it's all a part - even the fright - of the rhythm of being alive.

Fire needs air to breathe.

Any thoughts from you on transition? Sprouting & peeling? Breath? Shadow & light?

the photo is a treasure from a dear friend in honor of my recent post on shadow & light. thank you!