90 Seconds to Release

“Despite our fear of certain feelings, it is feeling each of them all the way through that lands us in the vibrant ache that underrides our being alive. To reach this vibrant place is often healing.” -- Mark Nepo

Life has been crazy full lately with all sorts of brilliant and shiny adventures. It’s all good, as they say. My body, however, seemed to indicate otherwise. Even amidst healthy eating, plenty of sleep and regular exercise, last week my body declared a moratorium on health. I came down with an icky cold “out of nowhere.” So, I slowed down (sort of), paid attention (with soft focus) and listened (perhaps with one ear.) Actually, I kept going – only doing the “essential” things, of course – until my body said, “Excuse me. I’d like your FULL awareness NOW.”

So, Wednesday, I woke up and I cried. Buckets. I finally let go and quit trying to analyze things and figure them out. I pushed my favorite “should” to the background – (“You should know better.”) – and just let myself be. I slowed down and got quiet. I lit a candle, played the Cistercian monks on iTunes, raged in my journal for awhile, sobbed into my pillow, wailed a little more, then went to my scheduled spiritual direction appointment where I sat with a wise listener who let me cry some more. (I hope you’re not distracted by what might have brought me to this state, because that’s not really the point… but I do appreciate your concern.)

If you’re asking what is the point, well, I just needed to let my emotions be. While I have a general idea where some of the angst arises (e.g. my mother died on Mother’s Day seven years ago and I tend to mentally forget this), the point was my body was giving me all sorts of signals that I needed a little grieving time. Again? Yes. Still? Absolutely.

We are such amazing creations and my new favorite mantra is “The body doesn’t lie.” Who would have thought that buckets of tears, some lament music, a gentle hot yoga session and ultimately oral surgery would provide the prescription to returning to my normal-feeling self? Counterintuitive, huh? Nonetheless, my blockage – both nasal and otherwise – seem to be on the pathway to clearness after following just that plan.

Brain scientist, stroke survivor and author, Jill Bolte Taylor offers that it takes only 90 seconds for the chemical release and physiological response of an emotion to be triggered, surge through our body and be completely flushed out of our bloodstream. We have a choice as to whether we mentally hold onto the pain and allow it to further poison our system, or allow ourselves the cleansing benefit of fully experiencing the surge when it arises. Wednesday I allowed my grief to expand and flow through me. It’s definitely harder than it sounds, but one of the reasons I’m recording this memory is perhaps next time, I’ll mentally get to this knowledge sooner and my body won’t have to pull out all the stops to slow me down when an uncomfortable emotion arises again. I’ve come to learn there’s nothing linear about life. We don’t get to grieve or forgive or cry, be angry or laugh just once and then be done. Life is a cyclical process that turns back on itself again and again as onward we go!

Is there an intense feeling you’ve been avoiding? Will you allow yourself 90 seconds of pure emotion today? Go ahead, throw rocks into the ocean. Crank up the blues music. Dance with abandon until your toes tingle with joy. Think about it.

Start your own Drum Circle

The sound of drums calls through the crystal blue sky. Beckoning. Singing. Saying, “Come play with us. All are welcome here.” The message is clear. “Find a perch on the grassy knoll, soak up some sunshine and live your own rhythm. Welcome to the World Rhythm Festival. Welcome to life.”

Saturday was my first experience in a community drum circle, but not my first in finding my personal rhythm. If you’ve never participated in a drum circle, it’s quite an experience. From out of the silence, a lone drummer begins. Soon another joins in, percussion instruments follow and, if you’re lucky, a bass carries the heartbeat. It’s a magical experience as multifarious people of assorted talent levels come together to create music. Dancers step into the mix and uniquely sway to the emerging beats. All elements are essential to creating this life-engaging experience.

One dancer swayed on the outer perimeter of the circle and I wondered why he steered clear of the middle and whether he longed to be center stage. Later as we had a brief conversation, I realized his perfect rhythm was to be exactly where he was – nothing more or less. Many of us don’t listen that well. If everyone isn’t doing it (whatever “it” is), we draw back because it might not be acceptable. We choose to listen to everyone else’s rhythm and find ourselves out of sync, and thus missing out on our unique part of life's harmony.

My part in Saturday’s experience was to sit on the knoll and play my djembe. I didn’t need to be the one to start or stop the circle. My role this day was harmony, and in that I was perfectly content. I was grateful for those who brilliantly began each round of music and less appreciative of those who exerted an odd power to bring the circle to an unnatural close. In practicing our personal rhythms, it’s important to know when we must follow the beat of our own drum and when it feels best to play harmony. There’s magic in listening to the pulse and finding the simpatico places both within and without.

Take a moment and imagine leaning into your own grassy knoll and soaking up the sunshine of your personal rhythm. What instrument would you play? What role would be yours? Where would you dance in the circle? What beat will you choose to follow?

World Rhythm Festival 2011 © lucy
My djembe & my friend, Carole © lucy 2011

Whidbey Island Wisdom

The cormorant perches on a half-submerged buoy, both floating in the transparent morning light – not sunny, not quite gray with a touch of gentle mist in the air. Ocean angel opens her wings and balances like a scene from The Karate Kid. What does Madame Cormorant say to me? Balance, my dear. It’s time to regain your balance.

Swallows chase playfully past the bedroom window – moving at such speed they threaten to bounce off the crystal clear glass separating our worlds. Oh, precious swallows what say you? Play. Play. Play. It’s the essential beat of your heart. Wait no longer to play. It is the air you live and breathe.

Waves rhythmically lap against the sandy shore – licking the wet gray sand with their gentle tongue, kissing the earth while holding floating fowl. Love, they whisper to me. Open your heart like the cormorant. Play with abandon like the swallows. Kiss the world with sweet compassion.

I just had the incredible pleasure of spending two days on Whidbey Island, dreaming and scheming with wonderful friends. Above is the view and wisdom the Island offered to me. May your days be filled with earthly wonder!

Book Review: Heaven by Lisa Miller

"As Emily Dickinson said, heaven is what we cannot reach. But it is worth a human life to try." -- Lisa Miller

In her recent book, Heaven, author Lisa Miller, takes on the challenging task of bringing new light to a topic that has been pondered throughout eternity and for which there ultimately is no conclusive proof. It is a subject rooted across religions and everyone from agnostic to fundamentalist has an opinion. In her author's note, Miller states, "While I do not aim to be inclusive, I did try to write a book that's broad and balanced enough to give every interested reader something to chew on." In that she has succeeded.

The book is filled with interesting historical facts, modern theatrical interpretations as well as literary excerpts about how our images of heaven have developed. Miller's skill as a journalist shines through with her thorough research and anecdotal interviews. My favorite passages were those in which she interviewed "real" people who were both passionate and certain about their beliefs, as well as others who answered her question "do you believe in heaven" by not answering it at all.

One rapt interview matched Miller, a skeptical Jewish woman married to a baptized Catholic turned nonbeliever, against Anne Graham Lotz the daughter of the late evangelist Billy Graham. Miller describes Lotz as warm, likable, and direct in her belief that every born-again Christian will ascend to heaven as part of the choice based in accepting Jesus Christ as personal Savior. At the end of the segment (after being witnessed to by Lotz), Miller reveals a transparent vulnerability as she writes, "Lotz's certainty made me squeamish... I know she's wrong, I thought. But what if she's right?" As with universal discussions on God, Heaven tickles the curious notion of how we can take comfort in (or be squeamish about) something we cannot unequivocally know.

Along with the interviews, Miller weaves data and research as she broaches broad topics of resurrection, salvation, visionaries and the boringness of heaven. She does a beautiful job writing a book about religion that anyone - moderates, fundamentalists, nonbelievers and people of all faiths - can read without offense. In many ways, Heaven is a brief history of the major religions with a focus around a topic everyone has pondered from time to time. Parts of Heaven resonated deeply with me while others had me skimming over pages that at times felt repetitive. Nonetheless, Miller has taken a daunting topic and distilled it into 250 pages which are well worth reading for anyone fascinated with the after life.

Does she provide answers? Are there any really? Have you witnessed heaven yourself? Think about it. From where do your thoughts and opinions on this topic arise? A glimpse into Miller's Heaven offers much food for thought on a timeless topic.

This review is part of the TLC book review tour for Harper-Collins at their request.

My Friend, Acedia

Oh my, I’ve had quite a few days. After reading Christine’s reflection early in the week, I realized I’ve been caught up in a bout of acedia (i.e. lack of desire or initiative.) Rather than sinking into it or being curious, I grumbled and complained about not feeling good or getting anything done. This managed to only feed the overall sense of blah and keep me from (surprise surprise) feeling good or getting anything done.

This morning something began to shift as I decided to have a conversation with my companion. It went something like this:

Me: Hello, Acedia. What do you have to teach me?
Acedia: Patience, faith and the ability to sit in discomfort.
Me: Oh. But, I like things to happen quickly. I am a fearless warrior. I like to step in and heal things – quickly. (Oh geez, I sound arrogant. Somehow thinking I’m magical and believing I’m in control. My Ego is operating on high. )

Me: Hello, Acedia. What else have you got?
Acedia: I’m here to humble you. To let you taste that place of despair.
Me: Yuk, and?
Acedia: You haven’t been there in awhile, but you are not immune. All your tricks and magic won’t keep you from feeling pain and despair. It’s time to make peace with me and stop battling. Do you not see the risk? The more you battle, the stronger my hold becomes.
Me: Hmmm. Very interesting.

Then Acedia and I had a little conversation about the should’s. Beginning with the thought of “I should know better”. Having done tons of therapy, practicing as a therapist/life coach/spiritual director and overall being a pretty grounded and solid person, I have somehow convinced myself I shouldn't have bad days or make mistakes. (How realistic is that?!?!?). Thinking the thought of “I should know better”, I felt the weight of responsibility and the amount of EGO attached to it. It leaves me trying to do other people’s work for them AND messing around in God's business. It takes me totally away from the business of caring for myself. When I let go of the thought, "I should know better", I burst out laughing as I realized what a total mind-game that is... Geez Louise.

Using Byron Katie's technique of the Turnaround, my thought shifted something like this, and with it, the acedia lifted:

I shouldn't know better... Whew! I can only know what I know.

I do know better... I have everything I need and I can see it when I get out of my own way.

God knows best... I'm part of the Universe (God) and it takes all parts - the space - the light - the dark - the "mistakes" – the acedia – the fearlessness – the glory - ALL of it – to create a whole human being.

It appears I need to keep learning these lessons over and over again. Ain’t life grand?