baby whisperer

One of the things I look forward to each month is my visit to see my chiropractor, Dr. Derek. Health benefits aside, I always enjoy meeting with the young doctor for our conversations about the little synchronicities of life. He and his staff have created a welcoming atmosphere in the top floor of an old fire station. There are hardwood floors, natural lighting, and great music.

Last week, I found myself complaining about the change in schedule. Appointment hours were being expanded, but my favorite slot had been eliminated. So, I hemmed and hawed (not so very graciously) and landed on another day and time to try.

This morning when I arrived, I heard a baby crying. I realized it was the doctor’s one year old, Mia, and I overheard him saying they were a little short-handed since his wife was at the dentist and the children were in his care. Shortly, after doing my wobble chair I walked back up to the front and saw little Mia sitting in Grace, the receptionist’s lap. Underneath the desk was Mia’s older brother Ty (3). He and I carried on a wonderful conversation about Thomas the train and friends -- both of us declaring Percy as our favorite.

Soon, Mia was beckoning for my attention. She reached her chubby little arms out, toddled over and let me scoop her up. I thought she might decide quickly that I was someone she did not know and want to go back to the familiar. Nope. We were fast friends. There were three other people ahead of me for adjustments so Mia and I strolled around the space and looked out the window at the mountains and sunshine. I quickly found myself rocking with my “mom sway” that I have not used in many moons! I felt Mia’s weight shift and asked Grace if her little eyes were still open. Nope. Sound asleep. Her body getting heavier with each breath, I sat down and held the slumbering babe.

What a gift! Just a few days ago I wrote about the joy of holding my sleeping children and then today, here I was snuggled up with a little blonde angel. I wondered if somehow the Universe was granting an unknown request submitted by me in my list of 7 favorites. Hmmm…

Too soon, the time came for my own appoint-
ment and I nestled Mia onto a mat on the floor. She, of course, woke up when she was out of my arms, but soon her mother arrived to comfort her. . . The doctor said, “Lucy’s the baby whisperer”. Mom replied with a smile , “Yes, I’ve heard.” It was a wonderful affirmation that my “good mom instincts” are still intact—something that’s easy to question when teenagers are quick to try and convince me otherwise. I like to believe small children are quite perceptive and discerning in who they choose to hang out with. Baby Whisperer…I like it.

So, all of my grousing about changing days and times, turned into this wonderful little glimpse of heaven. I really wonder why I try to control anything at all…it seems like more times than not, changes turn into something more brilliant than I ever could have imagined. Are you a grouser? Or can you let things come as they may? I seem to vacillate between the two…hopefully leaning a little more toward welcoming what comes freely.

photos from paris 3.08

lenten fire

Simmering around the edges, I am reminded often of the fire in my belly that wants to dominate this season of my life. Jan Richardson’s post spoke to me this morning as she wrote of the path where our humanity and the divine meet in fullness. New decisions face me daily which is very exciting…and a little scary ☺.

The image of fire burns like a slow ember at times and then it seems to burst into full flame. This happened to me this morning as I was pondering the path of which Richardson speaks. It came in the reading of one of my favorite bloggers, Barbara at Barefoot toward the Light. I hope you will check out both of these posts, but for now I share my fire with you.

There is nothing to be found,
even if I search.
There is nothing to do but
to warm myself on my own.
There is nothing to do
but to burn my own body
and light the place around me.

--Jukichi Yagi (1898-1927)

So, what lights your fire? Do you consider where your path is leading? Have you claimed an intention for the year? The season? The day? Whatever it is, I hope you will feel the warmth of your own light. If that’s not possible right now, I hope you will warm yourself here. ☺

photo from paris 3.08

queen of the rodeo

Sitting in writing class, we are handed our evening’s exercise to write dialogue. My mind goes blank. I close my eyes and lay my head on the desk while others around me begin to frantically scribble on their notebooks or type away on computer keyboards. Seconds pass, perhaps even minutes. The only dialogue is the one running through my head that begins to question my creativity and my motives. What are you doing in this class? I think about the question and soon themes begin to run through my head: Mother. Jonathon. Spiritual Journey. Authentic voice. They weave and interconnect with each other and morph into an amazing story.

Am I mad? Crazy? Self-absorbed to even consider writing this stuff? What if people read it and hate it? What if they don’t read it at all? Would that be worse?

Wait! my inner voice slows down the stampede of negative thoughts. Who are you writing for? What do you want? What do you need from this?

I need to tell the story – even if I don’t know what “the story” is. It’s writing itself by pouring out in splashes and spills – dribbling out through a sentence or two – a word of dialogue here or there.

Just keep writing, the muse says.

The bold inner critic pipes up: Who the heck do you think you are? No one wants to read your words. Heck, you can’t even string a reasonable sentence together.

Other voices chime in while the dust and chaos of the stampede builds. You gotta get it right. Be sure to cross all your t’s and dot your i’s. Punctuation counts. Be sure it’s all true. You don’t want to make anything up do you? People might find out you’re a fraud and a liar just like James Frey.

“But, but, but”, the stuttering child says. “I’m a good writer. Mrs. Craig said so.”

Yea, but that was in the fourth grade. You’re 52 years old now, more than ½ way toward the grave. Give it up, old girl.

It feels like the whole negative committee of my mind has circled up and threatens to push me over the precipice into the gulch of unfulfilled dreams. Give up. Give up. Give up. Give up.

I put my hands over my ears, squeeze my eyes tightly shut and begin to breathe deeply until a new voice enters the midst. “Thank you all for coming,” a calm woman sitting tall in the saddle appears, “but we won’t be needing your input today.”

I like this woman. She’s like Lucy all grown up. She is strong and kind. Her voice is like velvet and her words drift over the raucous committee like a gentle mist covering the valley of a fairy tale. The naysayers begin to lay down one by one. Sarcasm gives one last ditch effort before tumbling out of my mind, So you think you can do this thing, huh? Yea, right, she says weakly.

And then the velvet-voiced woman is joined by another and another and another as they all chime in with cheering and encouraging voices.

“Just keep writing! You are the Queen of this rodeo!!!”

collage by Kathy Otero - a gift from my husband

Creative Blogger Award

Christine at Abbey of the Arts was kind enough to present me with this blogging award. I was humbled and honored to not only receive the award, but to read her gracious comments about moi. So, it is with great pleasure that I participate in this fun little meme.

My instructions are to list 7 things that I love and then pass the award on to 7 people…tagging them and letting them know they won! You can copy the picture of the award and put it on your sidebar.

7 Things I love:

1. The smell of fresh rosemary on my hands. I am totally incapable of passing a rosemary bush without running my fingers along the leaves. The thought of that luxurious scent lingering on my hands throughout the day is impossible to resist! Can one be addicted to such a thing?

2. Watching my children sleep is one of my great joys in the world. When they were young, I adored holding them in my arms and feeling the weight of their sleepy surrender. Since they have now either met or surpassed me in size, I must settle for sitting by their bedside and watching the rise and fall of their breath.

3. Laughter – gut-wrenching, belly-shaking laughter. The kind of laughter that is contagious – like a wave gathering power from the bottom of the ocean floor, it tickles and teases and laps at the shore until finally the giggles swell and build until they peak like a 200-foot Tsunami and wash over everything & everyone in sight.

4. Being in the presence of another person when they have a light bulb moment - especially one that brings them a little closer to their own authentic self and thus closer to God. It is like the ringing of a bell in “It’s a Wonderful Life,” an angel has received their wings - or learned to fly a little more freely.

5. Paris. Need I say more? It was one year ago this week I said farewell to the City of Lights. So, here is a “subset” of 7 things I love about Paris. 1) Coming out of the Metro to the site of Notre Dame 2) café au lait and fresh croissant at Jean Millet 3) The Eiffel tower dancing in the dark next to lit up carrousels 4) L’aubergine et fromage patisserie eaten by the Seine 5) lyrical language 6) walking, walking, walking 7) the presence of God in the cathedrals and galleries.

6. My life. I actually sit around sometimes and giggle at the delight of my life. The friends that surround me. Family who puts up with my eccentricities, experiments and tempestuous times ☺. My continued awakening to God, art, myself and the world. (Methinks those things are not mutually exclusive.) The gift of awakening each day to wonders that I cannot begin to create before they happen.

7. Blog Comments. I know this may sound cliché or like a commercial, but I seriously and honestly love when people share their presence with me here. It is like smelling fresh rosemary, breathing together, sharing a giggle, witnessing a light bulb moment and strolling through the streets of Paris hand in hand.

Your presence truly adds to my life! That said, I am opting to not tag seven players but hope at least seven of you will choose to leave me a little comment here or let me know that you have chosen to play along with the meme. Also, if you feel so inclined, please give yourself the Kreativ Blogger award...you know you deserve it!!

Bon jour!

all are welcome at the table...sort of

Sitting in the lovely chapel listening to the priest read scripture about all being welcome at the table of God, I felt warm and at home. My eyes followed along with the bulletin to this place:

"Everyone is invited to come forward today. If you are in a communion of faith practice with the Catholic Church, come forward in the usual way to receive the Sacred Bread. If you are a guest, you bless this assembly with your presence. We wish to bless you in return. When you come to the minister, place your hand over your heart to indicate that you wish a blessing." (emphasis my own)

A blessing, but no elements. My heart and thoughts stopped to consider those words. The table is open to everyone and for everyone except when it's not. I was reminded of a child looking through a bakery window at warm fresh bread and delectable pastries– an urchin child hungering for sustenance who will be offered a kind pat on the head rather than a belly-filling meal.

Fortunately, I am not an urchin child. I am a child of God (just like you), well-loved who knows that Mother (or Father) God has fed me well and received me as whole. She will wipe the hunger away and I am no less special because the priest would not put the wafer on my tongue or the wine to my lips. Experiencing my inner smile, I laugh at the silliness of humans thinking they can control where or how God gets doled out. Hmmmm...

A few more thoughts about 'helping out God' can be found at Dreams and Visions.

Lastly, I realize that many of my readers come from a Catholic tradition. Please understand it is not my intent to malign any tradition, but rather to consider the impact of exclusionary rites. I hope all might ponder this alongside me. The service was quite lovely and the presence of God was palpable. I was indeed blessed - elements or not. And, this vision of standing outside the bakery did leave me feeling set aside and not so very welcome.

I wonder where in my life I leave others standing outside the bakery window. Again, I invite you to ponder this alongside me.

teddy bear table taken in Paris 3.08