the bare essentials

Prompted by yesterday's post at Abbey of the Arts I found myself pondering these words: what does it look like to strip down and surrender the unessential? What is essential? A modicum of food – water to keep me hydrated – clothing to cover my back – certainly not the closet full of items that threatens to explode into my bedroom – shoes strewn around the perimeter. I sit amid pillows, books, candles, computer, and music.

What do I really need? What is essential? The answer comes and it is this: Space and time with God. For me that includes a pen and paper to capture my thoughts. What if I let go of even that desire (to capture my thoughts)? Do I not always have them with me?

What is essential in this life? I keep thinking of the tools – the things – that help me find – meet – uncover my listening ears to experience God. I think of a monk’s quarters. Simple and sparse. A robe; sandals; a notebook and pen. Perhaps a candle to light the dark. The barest of meals served on a single tin tray and cup. If the monk is really lucky, there will be a window that overlooks the garden. With that window, the abundance expands exponentially with a view into the outside world. Yes. God is within and God is in nature - in the eyes of others - in the touch of communion.

What is essential? Must we swallow the elements of communion to be blessed or can we know deep in our being that they are but a symbol and we know what they represent.

Again, what is essential? The question frightens me a little and reminds me of my early days with my not-quite-yet husband when I feared he would announce we were chucking all of our belongings and moving to the mission field. I did not want to let go of my life. I still don’t want to let go of my things, but I feel like I could. I seem to know a bit more of what would be essential for me. I return to the thoughts of a modicum of food and water – some clothing to cover my body – pen and paper – and if I’m really lucky, a window to the outside world. (Even that assumes I have a roof over my head, and, yes, the roof is indeed a luxury.)

So, how will I hold this stripped down image as I go through these days of Lent? What is essential?

Thanks, Christine for the prompt!

photos from Paris 3.08

glimpses of the eternal

I just had one of those profound experiences that leaves me...well...a little shaken or possibly a little more awakened. Angels? God? What is this power that surrounds us in the world? Do our ancestors and those that have “crossed over” come back to visit? To remind us? Yesterday was the anniversary of my co-worker Allyson’s death. She would have been thirty-five years old on Friday. Yesterday as I was standing in the lobby of the school reading the memorial plaque for Allyson, I turned my head and saw her walking toward me. It really took me off guard for a moment until I realized it was another young woman who attends the school. I have seen her before and each time I was shaken as I thought it was Allyson. Is it coincidence that I saw her at that exact moment yesterday?

I had a similar occurrence happen to me on Monday in nearly the same place when a woman I have never seen before walked by and caught my eye. It jolted me because I felt that I knew her. Then when I looked again - and she continued to hold my gaze - I realized she looked very similar to my friend, Dawn who died of cancer a couple of years ago…So, back to this morning’s moment. I had just finished doing some morning readings and was copying off a document I did not want to forget. My Bible tipped open and there was the bulletin from Dawn’s memorial service. There were those eyes looking into mine that I had looked into on Monday. Inside the bulletin I noticed the exact date of her death, March 2, Monday’s date.

The enormity and the mystery of these two events brings tears to my eyes. They remind me of how little I (we) know about the mystery of the universe. I am humbled and awed by this being/energy/person I call God. He is not tangible and of course He is. I cannot see Her face and yet I see it every day. I cannot feel those arms around me and yet they are here now. The mystery is astonishing. My journey has only begun and yet I feel like it has already lasted an eternity.

If I were to go looking for Allyson or Dawn today, I probably would not find them. Is that how it is with God? My prayer is that during this season of Lent (this season of life) I will at least make room and be open to the possibility that God will show up. The truth is that it usually happens in the most unexpected of places like standing in the lobby of a busy school or shuffling around in the papers on my bed. May I be open to the mystery today – and tomorrow – and always. May you too.

I am curious, of course…have you had similar experiences of the eternal? Where do you see the face of God? How and when do you feel the arms around you?

photos taken @ musee d'orsay 3.08

ashes and smudges

This morning my husband and I entered a church together for the second time in one week – not something we have done in nearly two years. Interfaith Community Church is simple and beautiful, reminiscent of a building you would see in a country pastoral setting rather than tucked amidst homes in an urban neighborhood. We could see the classic white steeple from a few blocks away. The sanctuary is two pews wide and about 12 rows deep. It is sparse with hard old pews and no flashy carpeting or stained glass windows. The thematic colors this morning were silvery sage with lilac ribbons wrapped around dried floral arrangements.

The room smelled of incense although for a moment upon entering, I asked my husband if it didn’t smell like marijuana ☺. A man of possibly 70 or 80 years of age handed us a bulletin and greeted us as we entered. I counted 12 people in total including the morning’s speakers. The room was to fill up to at least double that by the time the service began. Gong music played from a small stereo and candles were lit by the aging man and his spouse.

No one rushed over to greet us although several did nod their heads toward us in welcome. We were told more than once that every Sunday is unique and has its own theme. The service today was led by a woman who is a teacher of metaphysics and a Reiki master. She is very near my age and spent several years working in New Zealand and Australia while studying both Eastern and Western paths.

Her “sermon” began with the congregation performing the act of smudging to bring us into awareness of the room. We were asked during the process to consider where our minds were. Did we have judgments? Are we present in the room? Are we wondering what will come next? My mind went to my first “smudging” when we attended a parent workshop in Mexico. My thoughts mainly wondered what my husband was thinking about this church I had suggested. It was far from the traditional background with which we are more familiar.

Next we participated in a drumming exercise. I love drumming and while I brought my own drum, I chose to leave it in the car since I had no idea what to expect in this service. Hubby opted out of the drumming. He later explained that he wanted to just listen today. And so the morning went. It was filled with activities such as breath work (something I practice in yoga) and meditations, which I have done both on my own and in various workshops. All of the practices were activities in which I have found solace and clarity yet I have not necessarily placed them in the context of “church.” Hmmm…

This experience will take a little processing for me. Something seems to be stirring in me that begs for more community. I have become more and more comfortable with following the lead of my heart and coming to find that it usually trails to a pathway to God. In fact, most pathways lead to God when I listen closely. On Wednesday I received the mark of the ashes at a reasonably conservative church. God was there. Today, I received the smudge of the sage and cedar and listened to the rhythm of the drums. God was there. Like I said in my earlier writing, God just seems to keep getting bigger. This is already proving to be quite an interesting season of Lent and we're only five days in. Hmmmm...

lucy's personal empowerment day

It is starting to appear that February 27 is some kind of great empowerment day for me. Last year on this date, I was winging my way across the Atlantic for my grand Paris adventure. Today...I conquered the incessantly running toilet in our bathroom. Not quite the same, you might say. Well, I don't know. There is something pretty magical about saving a $100 plus charge for a plumber house call, purchasing a part for $2.70 and completing the whole process solo! I am pretty dang proud of myself.

The rest of the day held its own kind of magic too. I had early morning correspondence with some of my favorite people then went for a long overdue hair appointment. In fact, it may have been the new coif that convinced the hardware store salesman to walk me through the plumbing repair free of charge. The sun was gloriously shining here, too, which was a welcome relief after the blowing rain and snow we have experienced the rest of the week.

So, with new bouncy hair and no dastardly roots showing, I conquered my plumbing dilemma and then promptly paid myself with a new piece of art that Sunrise Sister tempted me with. I completed a few more items on my to do list and decided to walk down to our little town center to the bank and post office. After completing those tasks, I strolled by the movie theater and noticed that "The Reader" had opened today and the next showing was in 20 minutes. What's an empowered girl to do? You guessed it! Go to the movies! I was not disappointed and was only confirmed that Kate Winslet is the one to perform my memoir.

Now, I'm home with dinner in the oven and a beautiful salad awaiting my dear husband's arrival. My repair work today was in his bathroom, so he is going to be thrilled...at least I hope he is. Like I said, it may not be Paris...but life is pretty darn good on this side of the ocean too!

Yes, I am easily amused. How about you? What little pleasures brighten up your day? Where do you find empowerment? Enjoyment? Contentment?

top photo: from rodin museum - paris
bottom: http://www.katherinetreffinger.com/

making sense of glorious chaos...

The season of Lent is upon us. I gather snippets here and there. I hunger for them like crumbs sprinkled on an orphanage floor. I read words written by others. I pause and listen to the birds calling as they scratch for food and seek their own crumbs beneath the surprising snow that covers the morning ground. I am in awe of all the beauty that surrounds me. Jan Richardson says, "Ash Wednesday beckons us to cross over the threshold into a season that's all about working through the chaos to discover what is essential." I feel caught in the midst of a glorious chaos - standing at a crossroads of what to allow into my life and what to sift out.

I was touched by Sunrise Sister's poem about Ash Wednesday and also her post regarding her personal experience of the day. Here is the response I wrote to her: "i experienced my first marking with ashes last night. it was a ceremony of mixed emotions. i did not hear the words "from dust you were born, to dust you will return," but more words of repentance...i wrestle with what repentance means to me and what the old voices tell me it "should" mean. it would have been easier to hear "from dust to dust." ah, but this journey is not about the easy way is it?"

This morning continued my beautiful wrestling to find meaning in the chaos. Learning how to marry my old traditional ways (that have felt narrow in recent years) with the broader and bigger God that I am discovering. Abbey of the Arts shares her poetic and thoughtful vision of what her Lenten practice will and will not include. I have yet to name for myself what it means, but the words God is getting bigger keep weaving their way through my musings. I guess that is a start. It feels like this season is one of making space for a God who wants more presence in my life and more distinction. Distinction is an interesting word to me, because on the one hand it can feel limiting, but in this case it feels expansive and lovely.

Traditionally Lent is considered a time of fasting and repentance. Maybe I shall fast from the old ways of doing things. Perhaps I will repent of not being true to myself and how I desire my relationship with God to be. Hmmm...I think I'll ponder this a little more.

And you? Have you made plans for Lent? Will you experience it as a time of turning inward or one of expansion? Maybe the two are not so very different...

photos taken this morning on my walk