coming out

I awoke this morning feeling risen and ready to bloom. I believe it is no coincidence that today is Easter. Those old critical and conservative voices in my head spoke of sacrilege…How can you proclaim yourself “risen” on the same day as Christ? But, isn’t that what Easter is about? The new risen self. The death of old ways and rising to who God has created us to be. Believe me, I do not take the Easter story lightly. I am indeed honored to “come out” on this holiest of days. It is through Christ’s example that I am offered the courage and strength to follow my passion. So here goes…

Hello. My name is Kayce and I’m a writer. Whew! There, I’ve said it. For those of you who are confused, I am also lucy. My work is loving the world. My passion is helping others and myself move toward more authentic and fulfilling lives. For several months now I have been aware that living this dualistic existence of lucy in the blogosphere and Kayce in the “real” world is some how discordant with the wholeness I seek.

It gets a little tricky, however, because I am also a psychotherapist who has various ethical considerations and boundary guidelines to uphold and respect. The issue of self-disclosure is where things can get a little messy. Should my clients know that I struggle and have bad days? Dare I let them discover that I don’t have it all figured out? What if they find out that I am – gasp – human?

After considerable pondering, I keep coming back to the notion of authenticity. I just cannot hide here anymore. It feels important to “come out.” I’m not sure how or if it will change what this space looks like or what I share. Be assured that lucy is not going anywhere for now! (She is after all the muse. If you haven't yet scrolled down the sidebar and read "Who is lucy?", I invite you to do that soon.) I hope bringing the two of us together will only enrich these offerings. There is lots of transition going on for me as I have recently posted. More details will follow in the coming weeks.

Please join me today in celebrating the wonder of Easter; the beauty of coming out; and my 500th post at Diamonds in the Sky with Lucy!!!

Peace to you, friends.

With love, lucy aka Kayce

It is Good Friday

It is Good Friday. So much to consider. Everything from the cross and all its meaning – old, new & yet discovered – to the students and peers I will say good-bye to next week. Where am I going? Today, I will venture to Tacoma to see my son – for whom I have suffered much and whose suffering brought me to new life. Where on the cross does that fit? I think of papers to grade – a trip to take – my daughter rumbling around in the kitchen – my husband who I enjoyed so much yesterday.

Why? Why all of these things? I feel the pressure to write of Good Friday. (“All the “holy” people are doing it”, says the b.s. in my head. “Move into silence like the other “good” ones.”) Oh my, the inner voices ring loud and I wonder how will I be generous with myself.

How do I get to be me? How do I follow my own voice – be who I am created to be? Who is God? What is God? How can we even define? Yet so many attempt. Attempting truth. Is truth not what we experience? Could truth be being present to our own experiences of each other – of the world – of ourselves?

“Easter and Passover make us experience in ourselves a call out of bondage. So experiencing them doesn’t destroy our religious traditions.” Joseph Campbell

How will I experience Good Friday – like me – like myself? I am aware it is the day of the cross. Do I need to run away from life today – hole up in my sanctuary and pray for hours? Perhaps – if that is what I am called to do from the deep core of my being. I think not. Instead I will go to see my son. How appropriate this mother and son should be together on this day. I will go for a walk with a new friend – breathing fresh air – building new relationship. “We are nailed together by the cross.” – a paraphrase from Jan Richardson’s must read post.

Life afresh and new. Letting the old die. “Whatever comes from a moment’s grace that joins us to our lives and to each other – this is spiritual.” Mark Nepo I would go on to say it is Holy - these things that join us to our lives. The candle that burns on my desk. Music drifting through the room. Clouds that cover the sun. Friends who await my call. God who speaks my name.

It is Good Friday. There is much to be considered.

photo of my son circa 1993

enCouragingBliss: Do Not Get Rid of Your Vice

“Do not get rid of your vice but make it work for your illumination rather than your degradation. Turn it around on yourself and transform it into your best virtue.” from BlissChick

Wouldn’t you think that finding your bliss would be all warm and fuzzy. Happy. Light and carefree? Wouldn’t that be delightful – and way too easy?!?! BlissChick, however, is a woman after my own heart and she is willing to dig deep and look at the hard stuff which in return helps us move closer to living our bliss – truth – image of God – or whatever you like to call it. In her current post, she asks us to consider how we might transform vice to virtue.

So, that’s where the tough work comes in. We must first name our greatest vice. Yuk!! I pondered her post for a minute or two, considered doing something else (i.e. avoiding the topic) and then my inner censors kicked in and shouted, “I am selfish.” So, I opted to pick up pen and paper and see what happens.

In writing about my selfishness, I began to find the virtue of generosity. So I posed myself the question of when am I most generous? Throughout the conversation, I realized another vice showed up – my self-critical voice. (Not so surprising!) Self-criticism is an easy trap in which to get caught, because I am great at being critical about being self-critical. (While writing this, I realized the virtue here is that I am very generous with helping others see and fight their own battles to be free of self condemnation ☺.)

Having come through this not-so-little exercise, I discovered the virtue to these two vices of selfishness & self-criticism both come down to one thing – generosity.

Be generous. Unconditional. What if I could be generous with myself - giving myself the love and care I need…while still being generous with others and knowing they may fail me, because they’re human just like me? A circle of generosity perhaps?

Thanks to BlissChick (and Joseph Campbell who inspired her post which I highly recommend reading) I shall be looking more closely at those places where I am both selfish and generous with myself and others. Not getting rid of the vice, but seeing how it might be transformed into virtue.

How about you? Are you up for turning some vice into virtue? What would it be? How might you go about it? I hope you’ll join in the journey and let me know what you find along the way.

stand firm

My ponderings lately have been many – my writings few. The theme of “stand” arises again and again. Today - “and having done all…stand.” Ephesians 6 :13. Yesterday - “I did not hide my face from insult.” Isaiah 50:6. Approaching the end of Lent, I consider how Jesus stood in the face of assault during his life and particularly at the crucifixion.

We are in the midst of Holy Week and even if you do not believe in the crucifixion and resurrection, it is still a great story. The images and metaphors of dying to self and rising again are powerful. Standing in the face of life’s trials and not backing down. “I did not hide my face from insult.” No matter what happens, stand firm.

Standing firm can take on many forms. It can mean grieving or gritting your teeth and bearing things. I see it as not numbly checking out or fleeing, but staying with some form of presence. I will not leave. “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” God stands firm. The ultimate image of parent. Again, even if you do not believe in the God story – choosing to parent yourself and stand firm in the face of life’s trials. Choosing not to leave yourself.

Feeling our feelings. Being impacted by others. Standing firm. Firm does not mean rigid to me. It is grounded. Perhaps my face in the dirt - head to the ground, humbly weeping. Terra Firma. The ground as holy. My feet planted deeply and entwined with the roots of the world – like an old tree that can be blown about and lose its leaves in a storm or provide shade in the heat of day.

Lord, may I stand firm with strength and tenderness for myself as well as others.

Where do you long to stand firm today? Where are you tempted to flee? How might you consider changing your view of what standing firm looks like? Is it full of strength? Tenderness? Both?

safe landing

Moving toward my morning meditative routine – candle, music, journal…I chose a play list I did not recognize called, Prayer. My husband discovered this music by a Native American artist named Douglas Spotted Eagle. My journalling began with the words transition, transformation and trapezes. Life lately feels like that space just before you really let go and fling yourself into the air. I am reminded of my skydiving adventure just before stepping out of the plane. I clung to the door and bowed my head in frenzied prayer. It is that place just before you let go. You know it’s coming. You know you have to let go or you will forever regret it. I had no choice really, but to release my fingers and fling myself into the unknown. It seems that in order for life to keep moving forward that is exactly what I must do: let go, trust the unknown, and pray for a safe landing.

My writing traveled through many transitions as it so often does until I landed on that old topic of having compassion for myself. I am excellent at having compassion for others (most of the time), but one particular liminal space – the space 'in between' of loving my teenager and really disliking her a lot – keeps getting in my way. My anger and resentment rise. The classic words of a mother ascend in my throat, but not quite out of my mouth: “I’ve done so much for you. How can you not appreciate me?” And then I get mad at myself for even thinking that way and then she acts maddeningly teenager-ish and I get mad at her, but more myself (‘cuz I have compassion for her) and the cycle continues…

So, I kept writing and did a little reading and landed here: “…the quest both to understand oneself and finally accept oneself was a key journey for me…” I felt like God had a bullhorn to my ear. But, I didn’t really want to stay there and listen so I kept moving and opted to look once again at the Merton prayer I passed over last night:

"Be still
Listen to the stones of the wall.
Be silent, they try
To speak Your

Name.
Listen To the living walls.
Who are you?
Who
Are you? Whose
Silence are you?"

And so I chose to be silent and still. The music played softly in the background. The candle quietly burned across the room. I considered compassion for me. My mind drifted. I gently invited it back. I found myself following the rhythm of a drum. The call of the silence. The stones of the earth speaking to me. Somewhere in there, “my name" was spoken. I "understood and accepted." I moved a little closer to myself.

The name of the song I had never before heard? Coming Home.

How might things be different for you if you let go of the trapeze and flung yourself into the unknown? Do you expect a safe landing or do you assume you will crash & burn?

p.s. After writing this post, I wanted to give credit to Douglas Spotted Eagle. Here is one of the links I found. He is a skydiver!!! Coincidence? Synchronicity? God stuff?

p.p.s. Here's another one. Check out enCouragingBliss: Return to your Garden of Eden. It's yet another way of Coming Home.

soul collage by lucy