Blossoming Compassion

Yesterday morning I wrote of Compassion and ripples and water and cleansing. Then I went to my last session of Awakening the Creative Spirit. There we were posed with the question, "What is blossoming within you?" The first thing I thought was "nothing" and then I remembered the words: 'compassion for myself.' Neither felt like something I wanted to share with this group of blossoming women.

Our task was to select a photo of a blossom from the table in front of us. A very pale Iris petal (neither my favorite flower nor color hue) chose me. These are the words I read from the back.

Spring and all its flowers,
now joyously break their vow of silence.
It is time for celebration, not for lying low;
You too - weed out those roots of sadness
from your heart.

The Sabaa wind arrives;
and in deep resonance, the flower
passionately rips open its garments,
thrusting itself from itself.

The Way of Truth, learn from the clarity of
water,
Learn freedom from the spreading grass.

Pay close attention to the artistry of the
Sabaa wind,
that wafts in pollen from afar,
And ripples the beautiful tresses
of the fields of hyacinth flowers.

--Hafiz

Need I say more?

Compassion

“When the wind stops, the trees still move, the way my heart creaks long after it bends.” --Mark Nepo

Compassion is a word that has been entering my vocabulary and thoughts on multiple levels these days. How do we find it and give it (not just to others, but) to ourselves? Our feelings are like the ripples of the wind. The effect of the emotion lasts long after the event stops whether we realize it or not.

Tess’ “Unguarded Thoughts” highlighted this as she speaks of thoughts that pop out when we don’t even understand from where they may be coming. I wonder if they are the ripple of events gone by. So, again the question: how do we flow with the ripple and find compassion for ourselves?

My dreams lately have been filled with water. Water covering the streets. Water overflowing from the shower. Water surrounding land as if it is an island. The thought I have been pondering is how we quickly want our emotions to be washed away. If we stop to feel them at all, we hurriedly move on to the next thing as we let the emotion slip down the drain. (We don’t take time to be joyous or feel pain deeply.) It is here that I have the image of our emotions running into the sewer and becoming part of the muck and mire—festering and turning into a stinky, rancid mess—waiting to be dredged up. Yuck!

What if rather than pushing the emotions down the drain, we put the stopper in the sink and the covers over the manholes? What if we allowed ourselves to be washed with emotion thus being cleansed at the same time? What if we chose to dance in the rain rather than put up our umbrellas? What if we “experienced” rather than “stuffed?” The water could then take its natural course to the sea rather than man’s forced journey through the darkness of tunnels.

So today I say, let the water flood the streets. Let the shower spray everywhere. There are plenty of towels to soak up the excess. Have compassion for Me. My dreams are telling me to sink into the emotion and feel it, so then it can follow its natural course. I can be washed clean. God of the heavens and earth, the Creator of the trees and the wind, the lover of my heart is with me. Compassion abounds if only I will choose to sprinkle a little on myself.

photo by Mary Jane Hughlett circa 1962

Lucy--An Other's Perspective

I am feeling a bit playful this morning (even though still in bed with a really crummy cold) and felt like lightening things up a bit as heavier thoughts have been the topic for the last few days. So I have decided to share the insights of other people in my life (still being about me, of course, since this is my blog.) Here are some diamonds from others and a few glimpses of Lucy from another perspective.

This photo was sent to me by my sailing friends of the Georgia J.

I received this poem earlier in the week from my friend, Molly. I am honored and humbled to see myself through this woman's eyes.

Lucy is deep and vast like a river
That flows to the ocean – a blessing, a giver
It takes all her heart, you can see in her eyes
To integrate, not compartmentalize
This woman is brave, she will bare heart and soul
So that we can learn to be healthy and whole
And it’s her struggle too, and we love her so much
She walks beside us, companion, not crutch
In her willing exposure of laughter and pain
We see that this journey will not be in vain
Encouraged by Lucy, we’ll walk near or far
To enjoy the gift of God’s shining star.

And, finally a quiz result about my "intelligence." I found the link at my friend, Antony's blog. You should be able to click on the link below and take your own quiz.

Your Dominant Intelligence is Linguistic Intelligence

You are excellent with words and language. You explain yourself well. An elegant speaker, you can converse well with anyone on the fly. You are also good at remembering information and convincing someone of your point of view. A master of creative phrasing and unique words, you enjoy expanding your vocabulary. You would make a fantastic poet, journalist, writer, teacher, lawyer, politician, or translator.

What Kind of Intelligence Do You Have?

Cheers to you! I'm off to make some Chicken Soup.

My Lenten Prayer

“People who pray stand with their hands open to the world.” (Henri Nouwen.) Their arms wide open to the world. May my heart break wide open so that the world may fall in. Come all who are weary and burdened. Come. Let me be with you in this. Let me be there for you. (Words I penned yesterday morning as I continued to meditate on what my Lenten practice would be this year.)

I am continually amazed at my need to get out of my own way so I can hear God. While it is only recently that I have become more aware of the practice of Lent, I decided this year I would be prepared and consider well in advance what my Lenten practice would be. I read up on Lent a bit and even ordered a daily meditation book several days before the season was to begin. I considered giving up wine or sugar, exercising more…you get the picture. And then I ran out of time to think about it (hmm) and left for Brazos de Dios on Ash Wednesday.

No phone service. No internet. No i-pod or t.v. No interruptions from the outside world. Only ten people with the sole purpose of re-discovering the truth and beauty that lie deep inside each one of us.

That is my work, my joy, and (finally I realized) my Lenten prayer (my Life prayer)—to be fighting with and on behalf of truth and beauty for myself and others. Seeking the beauty and glory that we may not be able to see in ourselves. Digging through the armor of lies we believe—“I’m not good enough.” “My feelings aren’t important.” “I am nothing.” “I don’t matter” etc., etc. Fighting the battle alongside each other. While I know we must do it for ourselves, we do not have to do it alone. We can travel this path together—learning from one another.

My heart is filled with joy and my cup overflows. This Lenten season I choose to give away Me. Thankfully, gratefully, joyfully. My Lenten practice is not giving up drink or sugar or reading and exercising more, doing more, but rather I choose to be present to the world and to those around me. Living intentionally and bringing myself fully. Fighting side by side the battle that is ours together.

I invite you to join me for I cannot do this alone. Together let us seek the beauty in each other and break through the armor of lies that keep us in bondage. Together, let us move toward Resurrection this Lenten season (and always).

Hearts Aching with Joy

“We are ignored even though we are well known. We live close to death, but we are still alive. We have been beaten, but we have not been killed. Our hearts ache, but we always have joy. We are poor, but we give spiritual riches to others. We own nothing, and yet we have everything.” II Corinthians 6:9-10.

To breathe in ALL that God offers is to live an embodied life. This morning, I was drawn to the above verses written in my journal at a time that felt more like the whirl of a hurricane than a peaceful spring morning. These days I continue to be drawn to the wonder of the simple things like breath and waiting. I live in awe of this quiet existence. I am doing work I love. People I care about (both far and near) surround me with their love. I feel healthy and strong. My heart is filled with gratitude for this life and at times I wonder if I should feel a little guilty for being so happy.

In God’s graciousness, however, I am reminded of the times (present and past) when my heart has ached and broken. Somehow, there is rest in remembering the suffering. There is release in realizing that through God’s grace and compassion, I can find calm in the midst of the storm and know it is o.k. to have joy.

Lord, today may I breathe in ALL that you offer me, knowing that heartache and joy are both who I am.

“All spiritual warriors have a broken heart—alas, must have a broken heart—because it is only through the break that the wonder and mysteries of life can enter us.” Mark Nepo

award-winning photo by bill hughlett