Grounded in "Yes!"

I started preparing on Friday (Thursday felt too early).  I gave my prayer space a gentle clean, and put away the signs of previous seasons.  I took out my Advent devotionals and wreath, placing four fresh candles in this simple circle of metal.  Each year I look at more elaborate Advent wreaths and think about "upgrading" (my original Advent wreath fell to bits about a decade ago).  But in the end, simplicity wins out.  I also take out important visuals for the season - icons of St. Nicholas, Our Lady of the Sign, and John the Baptism, and a beloved print by Victoria Shuck entitled "Yes!"

"Yes!"  I look at this print depicting Mary saying yes to God's invitation - one that brought a mixed bag of possibilities from beginning to end.  Along with the unspeakable joy of new life and union with God came social judgment and isolation, fear, displacement - but to all of this and more she said "Yes!"  And God walked with her through the darkness into the light.

Tonight I waited until it was dark, and went up into my prayer space to light the first candle of Advent, letting the light slowly fill the darkened room.  I lit my first Advent candle when I was fifteen - my family thought I was crazy going into my room to light the candles and say my prayers.  I have maintained this ritual for almost forty years - no matter where lived, no matter what my circumstances, in good times and bad I have lit the Advent candles, sang the first verse of "O Come, O Come Emmanuel," and prayed for the strength to say "Yes!"

I love this ritual - it grounds me and centers me, and immediately takes me back to what is most important.  I think we humans are hardwired for ritual, and completely dispense with it at our peril.  It can provide a powerful way for our soul to speak - to say "Yes!"

What rituals will you observe during this Season of Advent that will help to ground you in the Real, and keep you from being swept up in the "silly season?"

May you have a blessed beginning to your Advent Journey -
Kim

Reading the Signs - or - the Advent Hawk

The hawk is back.  As I write this, she is perched on my neighbor's fence surveying the glorious land of bird feeders.  I think this is the same hawk I watched practicing take-offs and landings two summers ago; the same hawk that came to visit me last Christmas.  As winters approaches, she now returns to the hawk equivalent of Eagle Road with all its fast-food restaurants - there are easily 8 bird feeders within her sight.

Over the past several weeks the bird seed consumption dropped off precipitously - a sign that she had returned to her winter hunting ground.  But I don't need to read the signs to know that she is here, for there she perches, in all her power and glory.  To love her and to love the little spurdies who are even now pressed deep within the blue spruce tree as they hold their collective breaths until she flies away - well, holding both in my heart feels strange.  But both belong, and both are beloved.

I can see her (gazing out the window) instead of being busy with tasks (what I usually do) because I've come down with what must be the "virus de jour" - reducing the size of my world to this table, window, chair, tablet, and the necessary "virus de jour" paraphernalia (water, tissue, more tissue, cough drops, inhalers, and fever reducers).  And a hawk.  Oh my - she is so beautiful...

About a week ago I noticed that I was feeling more tired than usual - heading to "bed and book" earlier (not necessarily a bad thing, as I have piles of books waiting for my attention).  As I look back at my daily journal entries, I see the first reference to physically sliding downhill on Tuesday - I knew something wasn't right.  Wednesday's journal entry is one sentence - now I knew what wasn't right.  But the telling entry was made on the following day:  "I am feeling sick today - it is an invitation to take very good care of myself."

If the entry wasn't in my own handwriting, I'd be looking to find the person who wrote that in my journal!  This is a complete departure from how I normally approach the annual virus experience - first I deny that it is happening (I am NOT getting sick).  Then, I continue my schedule without any modifications (to prove that I am not getting sick).  When that is unsuccessful, I use medication as I way to mask symptoms so I can keep going (I will act well and therefore I am not sick).  Finally, the virus overwhelms all my coping strategies, and when I am finally so sick that I cannot get out of bed, I accept that I am sick and stop.

Well-practiced (and somewhat silly) pattern!  And familiar patterns are hard to break -

- but not impossible.  The hard work of learning new ways to "be" has clearly helped me to gain ground in the new pattern department, because as soon as I was aware that I was getting sick, I stopped, and started taking care of myself.

Old dogs - new tricks - thank goodness!

But I confess (with some embarrassment) that today I discovered some magical thinking associated with my self-care strategy - if I take care of myself at the beginning of the virus, it will not progress and I will get better quicker and with fewer complications.  I uncovered this little bit of magical thinking when I found myself frustrated that the added rest, healthy food (even a honeydew melon and cucumber smoothie) and judicious use of medication hadn't stopped this in its tracks and kept it from progressing.  Clearly (cough cough), the virus marches on.  So with the ulterior motive noticed, I am left with the question:  "Can I see this as an invitation to take very good care of myself - even if this self-care does not give me the result I want?  Can I nurture myself simply because it is a loving thing to do and reflective of God's love?

Yes, I can.

More signs to read - indicators that the work I am doing to learn sustainable self-care skills is taking root.  These signs show me that a shift is taking place - I am caring for myself not simply because of what I can get out of it, but because I love myself and want to nurture myself.  I bet God is grinning from ear to ear!

Reading the signs is a theme for this time of the year, as the Christian church prepares for the Season of Advent.  In Advent we are called to watch and wait and look - to prepare a place in our hearts for Christ's love to be born anew.  How I love this time of the year - how I love reading the signs!

Animal Medicine teaches that the hawk is a messenger who reminds us to heighten our awareness and read the signs around us.  Of course she has returned - just in time.

Happy reading,
Kim

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