Liquid Time

Right now there is a break in today's storms.  As I look out at the Boise Foothills, they appear to be frosted with a bright coating of snow.  Rain, sleet and hail have been the options playing outside my window today.  Each brings a different percussive presence to my window - the varying rhythms have been most entertaining (easy to say from the warmth of inside the house).  It is cold enough to be unpleasant (nothing is worse than cold rain/sleet to chill the body to the bone), but not cold enough down here for snow.  That may change by tomorrow morning, just in time for the drive to church.  I would say that the state of precipitation is fluid, but perhaps that pun is best left alone...

Time also feels quite fluid/liquid today.  Over ten years ago to the month I saw (in my heart) a design for a tapestry.  It was as clear as day, but each time I tried to sketch it, the image would evaporate! Over the years I have tried (in vain) to sketch it again, and each time I do, the image (which evolves with each passing year), evaporates.  I even went so far as to warp the big tapestry loom for this project (the dimensions stay stable over time even when the image changes),  but each attempt to weave the tapestry was met with - a wall.  Every attempt to push through this block was met with failure.

Finally I had to accept that it was not the time to weave the tapestry.

Several weeks ago part of the image for the tapestry evolved yet again - but this time, I had a strong sense that THIS was the image for the tapestry.  Next came the colors...finally, the design - which shares some similarities with the original design, but has evolved in some interesting ways.

Now it is time to weave the tapestry.

In the past, when I could not even begin the design, I felt feelings of failure and inadequacy.  Now I see that it was simply not time to begin.  There were experiences I needed to have - questions I needed to ask - joys/sorrows that needed to be experienced before I could begin.  And now, out of the depths of my experience, the image emerges...

...in its own time.  When the time is right.  In the fullness of time.  Not necessarily when I want/need it to happen - but in its own time.

In some ways, the evolving image has been a mirror for work taking place in my soul.  It has also been a powerful guide/teacher, leading me ever deeper into awareness of God's presence in my life...

...just in time.  In time.  Time -

Can I allow myself to accept that things emerge/resolve in their time (exit failure and inadequacy) and sing the song of Ecclesiastes?

Singing (tentatively),
Kim

Stuck Lid Syndrome and the Power of Release

You know that "stuck" feeling you get when you try to tighten a nut onto a screw when it isn't threaded onto the screw properly...ditto for a jar lid...STUCK!

Why is our initial reaction to try to tighten it more, instead of stopping and releasing the pressure?

Force is a crude intervention.  Flow is better.

My post-migraine brain thinks that this might apply to more things than just the batten on my loom beater, or a jar of peanut butter.  It certainly applies to relationships:  You will love me!  I must forgive them!  She needs to address this now or else!  Stuck Lid Syndrome - force it, and the stuckness increases.

It most certainly applies to personal growth and healing:  OK - I am done feeling broken and want to be healed and whole now.  I will take all the steps/do all the things/read all the books/practice all the exercises so I can heal and be whole NOW.  Am I not making myself clear - do I have to try harder?  MAYBE INCREASE MY EFFORT?  INTENSITY?  (clearly that doesn't work).

It absolutely applies to churches:  Force a church to change - really?  Even if it is desired change -  doesn't matter.  Change isn't necessarily what churches resist - it is the torque applied to achieve that change that (I think) fuels resistance.  And torque can take many forms - including the most wonderful plans - even plans with buy-in.

Part of my problem is the dynamic of intermittent reinforcement.  If I try something ten times and coincidence  results in a success in one instance when I am applying force, then some corner of my primitive brain makes an unhelpful connection and encourages me to use this approach in any/all situations.  I will absolutely force myself to eat three servings of fruit and four serving of veggies every day.  I will do my pt exercises three times a day without fail.  I WILL STOP WORRYING! (uh huh - try again).

What if force is indeed a crude intervention that works occasionally, probably by coincidence, but usually results in greater stuckness - no matter what the arena?  Is flow - going with God's Spirit and finding that amazing resonance and release - really the answer?

My Protestant-work-ethic-ACOA-hyper-responsible-maternal-messiah-brain finds the concepts of release, surrender and abandonment to be...well...wrong!  DANGEROUS!  IRRESPONSIBLE.  After all, I am supposed to do something!  NOW!

What a lie!  All my experience (data) demonstrates again and again that it is through relaxing into God's Spirit that positive things happen - good stuff gets done.  Force achieves the opposite result.

So today I relax into the flow of God's Spirit, even with a chorus of angry P-W-E-ACOA-H-R-M-M-B voices telling me I should bla bla bla.  The word "should" is their tell - it always gives them away.  Let them shout - they will tire themselves out (or the healthy voices in the chorus will make judicious use of duct tape, and a different dynamic requiring intervention will emerge), and all will be well.  I cannot make them stop shouting (force), but I can choose whether or not I am going to listen.

They have nothing new to say, and what they say doesn't work.    Time to listen to the music of the Spirit.

Releasing,
Kim

Hope after the Redline Samba

Migraines clear a calendar like heavy rains clear the air after fire season.  No matter how much I want to resist it/fight it/deny it/refuse to give in to it, eventually it overwhelms me and wins, and sends me (literally) to a place of darkness, quiet, and calm.  Figuratively, too - it packs a lot of value into one nasty headache.

Surrender.  I came back from the epiphany of retreat and, without missing a beat, immediately picked up the frying pan/fire two-step as though the music had never stopped.  God bless my body - it will only tolerate this redline samba for so long before the inflammation sets even the vessels in my brain on fire and I am forced to STOP.  Dark glasses.  Nausea and pain meds washed down with a caffeinated beverage, followed by a dark, quiet room and SILENCE.  Breathing.  Stillness.  Peace.

Surrender.  And then perspective.  I went there again - (damn!  why didn't I catch this sooner - see where I was headed, stop this before...) - I went there again - (it's ok - patterns formed over a lifetime do not shift in a day - or month - or year - or decade? - rest - breathe deeply - you are fine - you are getting it - you are learning to be you.   Not the you you are supposed to be, but the real you - the soul you.  It's ok - it is a spiral dance - and as you go around the spiral, passing again through the "stuff" you keep going, and...) - I went there again - to that experience of God's renewing presence.  And I am refreshed.

Eventually a dim light is turned on (both literally and figuratively), and I reach for my glasses and a book - Anne Lamott's  "Stitches: A Handbook on Meaning, Hope and Repair."  I smile, and I cry.  And cry some more.  And gasp with recognition - like when you unexpectedly see your reflection and get SURPRISED by yourself - and smile - the deep kind of smile that starts in the place fitness geeks call the "core" and radiates out as far as the ends of my hair.  From now on I think I'll call that a body smile - no crunches required.  With  refreshed soul, I find myself propped up in bed, and writing for the first time in almost a month.  That is a very hopeful sign.

It is good to feel hope, for there is so much, even in the most trying of circumstances, that is worthy of hope.  And joy.  And gratitude.  Thank you, migraine.

Now if only I can remember these new dance steps...

Body smiling,
Kim

Home

All is dark and quiet here on the Camas Prairie.  The retreatants have left to return home to Boise, Mountain Home and Idaho Falls, and I have one last night to collect my thoughts before heading back to the other aspects of my ministry.

The past few days have been full - overflowing - abundant - amazing.  What a joy to be in the company of seven courageous women who don't flinch when looking at the hard questions of life:

How do I experience God's love?
What is healthy for me (physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually, relationally)?
How much is enough?
How do I rest?
How do I embody God's love and share it?
(and a question added by one in the group) - Who am I, and what am I doing that makes me that?

They willingly joined me in trying new spiritual disciplines, bravely engaged the questions on their heart, and created a safe and loving community for one another - what a privilege to facilitate such an experience!

It has been a very long time since I've led this kind of retreat (as opposed to visioning, conflict resolution, diversity training, leadership development, and ministry discernment and development).  Sigh - sometimes you don't see how skewed the picture has become until you get enough distance and perspective to view it clearly.  My ministry has been way out of balance - I have been dancing to tunes played by others, instead of dancing to God's music in my soul.

As I listened to these amazing women do their spiritual work, I realized that I was getting a precious gift from journeying with them:

I was getting my life and my ministry back.

All it takes is for me to be myself  - not who others want, need, demand, or expect me to be, but who God created me to be - me!  No more apologies and contorting my soul to meet all these other expectations.  Not only is it ok for me to be myself - it is exactly how it is meant to be!

And throughout the cosmos there was a great sigh of relief and shout for joy, for she who had been lost finally found her way home.

Celebrating God's grace,
Kim

Turkeygram, or Dances with Dragonflies

My world is both contracted and expanded today - contracted due to pain, and expanded due to God's ability to widen even the view from my window.

I missed chapel this morning due to pain that made the prospect of the short walk to the chapel seem eight miles long.  Instead, I fully opened the window blinds and curled up in the glider for morning prayers.  As I finished my prayers, I was startled by movement outside my window, and looked up to see four magnificent wild turkeys right outside my window.  They were amazing!  They hopped up onto the railing at the footbridge, and spend several minutes preening and stretching in the sunshine.  Then they hopped down and headed across the field.

In native and popular folk medicine, turkeys are seen as messengers who bring four truths into awareness:

- The importance of the sacrifice of self for a higher purpose/greater good
- Understanding of the gift of giveaway
- Invitation to honor the Earth Mother
- Messenger of harvest bounties

Which message if for me?  In time, I will know.

Dragonflies have kept me company all afternoon as I prepare for the arrival of the retreatants.  This is the first spiritual retreat I have led since coming to Idaho (it has been a long time...).  I opened it to our UCC Conference and Association, but only two churches expressed interest (and one is the church I serve).  But I feel hopeful, as together we will take come time to deepen our awareness of God's love.

I love leading retreats - I do the prep work and facilitate the sessions, but then I step back and let the real Director of the Retreat engage in transforming work with each retreatant.  God never disappoints....

Dancing with the dragonflies,
Kim

Heartbeats in Sync - Waiting and Showing Up

One look at the night sky, and I know why I'm not meant to live in a city - it holds great healing power for me.  Gazing deeply into the night reminds me of how it feels to gaze upon someone who is beloved.  And perhaps that is what I am doing - gazing into the face of God.

I arrived at the Monastery after a beautiful drive into autumn (thank you, weather forecast, for being wrong).  Just a little hint of red and yellow along the roadside...and a velvet covering of sage/gray surrounding White Bird Hill.  Each mile brought a deepening of my breath, and freedom to my shoulders (my habitual storage site for tension).  Once settled in my room, I began a familiar routine, including sitting at the window and watching the night sky emerge.

Only tonight instead of stars, the sky filled with clouds.

Don't get me wrong, I love a good cloudscape (and the recent weather has meant no disappointment in the cloudscape department).  But I wasn't looking for clouds tonight, and started to get up to close the blinds when that inner voice said "wait."

So I waited.  Slowly, the clouds disappeared, and a vibrant night sky emerged.  What a sight!  I watched for the longest time, when I decided more would be better (time to go outside).  This was when I realized that I may have remembered to bring half my library with me, but I definitely forgot my jacket.  No matter; I bundled up in layers, and headed out through the lounge door to - glory!  The leaves are still on the trees (shielding the lights from the Inn), and so from my dark little patch of mud (rain earlier today), I had a brilliant view of the Milky Way.  I watched this glorious sight until my joints were frozen and the back of my head felt permanently stuck to my shoulders.  I quietly chanted one of my favorite prayer chants:  "All my fears fall to you, O Kind One who hears, and knows only love."  Then - silence.

Was Joseph Campbell right - is our greatest goal to be able to have our heart beat in sync with the heartbeat of the universe?  For a second tonight...perhaps...maybe...

...yes.

Sometimes waiting makes all the difference...as does showing up.

Breathing deeply,
Kim

The Rain, a Lake, and 4 Drunk Bikers

Teachers come in many forms.  Yesterday I sat and watched a grasshopper eat a blade of grass - I had to slow down and focus in order to appreciate this remarkable teacher.   Today my first teacher was the rain.

I woke up today before dawn, hoping to walk on East Inlet.  But the sky said rain, and I didn't want to risk walking on wet rocks.  I felt a twinge of disappointment, since the trail is where I have powerful encounters with Spirit.  As I thought about this I began to laugh - as if God's presence and interaction with me is determined by my location!  I instead went down and sat on my very favorite bench on the dock of the lake, and opened my heart to, well, whatever might happen.

At first the lake was extremely still - mirror like - reflecting the mountains that surround her on two sides.  The detail of the reflection was incredible!  I thought about the lake - it is very deep and still (at that moment).  Yesterday it had whitecaps, but in this moment it was still.  I felt drawn to that image - the stillness - and allowed myself to settle into a deep place of quiet.

A few minutes later the surface of the lake began to show interesting patterns - delightful designs.  Soon the designs changed and looked almost electric - alive - energetic (it reminded me of that scene from the movie "Close Encounters" when the alien ship and humans began communicating with flashing lights and musical tones).  The patterns danced and played on the surface of the water - deep and still yet alive and energetic!  I was mesmerized by what I was seeing!  And then, out towards the center of the lake, an area the size of a small car began to light up and shimmer like fireworks - diamonds - an incredible display!  I closed my eyes and then looked one more time - it was still there!  Slowly it settled down, and the patterns resumed.  I offered thanks for the possibility of deep stillness with energetic beauty - a display to rival any fireworks show!  Can I find that kind of balance in my life?

In the late afternoon (rain) I drove the Kawuneeche Valley one more time, drinking in the beauty of the Never Summer Mountains (my favorites next to Baldy), all the young trees that did well this summer, and the amazing beauty of the headwaters of the Colorado River.  As the rain increased, I headed back to the cabin to read, rest, and prepare to leave tomorrow.

And there I met my new teachers - four drunk bikers staying in the cabin next to mine.  They have been hard at drinking and smoking since early afternoon (impressive display of empty bottles lining the railing) and are doing this on the deck, so I cannot sit out there, and cannot leave my windows or door open for the smoke.  Even with the cabin buttoned up, I can hear them clearly.  I come here for peace - they come here to party.  And they are my teachers tonight because I do not want to hold onto the feelings I have toward them.  Yes, I feel justified, but what good does it do me to fill my heart and mind with anger, frustration, entitlement and righteous indignation?  It has no impact on them (they seem quite happy - and loud).  I am the one sitting in here contemplating their demise, and stuffing my heart with anger.

I am also in the process of reading David R. Hawkins book "Letting Go - The Pathway of Surrender."  It is one of the best (and most challenging) books I have read this year - even though I do not agree with all his observations.   Learning to acknowledge emotions without feeding them is not easy; choosing to instead strengthen positive emotions is harder still.  It seems tonight I will have ample opportunity to practice these lessons.  Frankly, I would rather not practice this at all - which means I have found another growing edge.

"May they be happy, may they be peaceful, may they be free from suffering.  May they be happy, may they be peaceful, may they be filled with love."  And may they be quiet!  (It is a process...)

Sigh -
Kim