Not every person in my branch of faith has grown up with this phenomenon, but I wouldn't be surprised if some of you are carrying the same baggage. Maybe it's time we unpacked it a little. Maybe it's time we re-vision the role of failure in our lives, and remembered that falling down is how we learn to get back up again.
The past few years I've become a big fan of failure. Failure shows you what isn't going to work; turns you towards new solutions; and helps you notice if the path you are following is not a good fit for you. Rather than being a cause for condemnation, failure has become my very good friend.
Other people think so too. Julie Wainwright, former CEO of Pets.com and current co-founder of Smart Now has an excellent post up entitled Five Live Saving Mistakes and How I Moved On. (A big thank-you to my fellow 'failed' church planter and brother-in-arms, Pat Loughery at In the Coracle for the link.) Here's Wainwright Cliff Notes, but I highly recommend the whole post, in which she also details how she moved on from each mistake:
Mistake Number One: I allowed others to define me.
Mistake Number Two: I built my image of myself on two main supporting pillars.
Mistake Number Three: I stopped believing in myself
Mistake Number Four: I stopped taking care of myself.
Mistake Number Five: Allowing my head to rule my heart.
Also in the failure category this week is the post I Like Failure, by Tracy Zollinger of Tiny Mantras, replete with a new magazine to love and a soundtrack for failing. And speaking of mantras, Crunchy on the Inside has a slew of good mental tapes special designed for days when you feel like a failure as a parent. (And aren't there a lot of them!) Finally, in a closely related vein, there's this thought provoking idea,The F**k it Principle from John C. Parkin, who argues that acknowledging failure and throwing in the towel is often the most enlightened way to go:
Parkin argues that saying 'F**k It" is a spiritual act. That it is the perfect western expression of the eastern ideas of letting go, giving up and finding real freedom by realizing that things don’t matter so much (if at all).
Parkin's book is no longer in print, but lord almighty! Don't you want to go to his Italian retreat center?! Pizza and enlightenment! What could be better!
As I've gotten older and hopefully wiser, I've come to realize that failure, while being a really pain in the tuckus, can actually be an effective tool for growth. In my humble opinion, failure isn't sin, it's just not getting it right the first time. And really, who's expected to get it right the first time? So go out there and fail royally today -- you'll be a better person for it tomorrow.
Rachelle Mee-Chapman is an alt-minister, mom, and writer blogging at Magpie Girl, and now at Food Hero and Minti Parenting. She'll send you helpful links and updates if you follower her on Twitter. Thanks for reading!
]]>I participate in two online networks. The first is Sacred Sunday hosted by Carla at Zena Musings. Members of this list focus on honoring small, sacred moments in their everyday life with a once a week post on Sundays. One of my favorite Sacred Sunday bloggers is Elena at Lunar Musings. Many of her Sunday posts are substantial, rich with wisdom gained from careful observation. But she also gives us this nice example of a simple Sunday post which might encourage you to try your hand at expressing gratitude for your holy moments.
The other network I work with is the Small is Beautiful/Passionate Blogger network, which features bloggers who are committed to telling their stories regardless of fame or the number on the site meter. Jen Lemen and I started Small is Beautiful after we were blown away by the amazing women we met at BlogHer 07. Many of these women were faithfully crafting soulful stories for small readerships, but feeling lost in the blogosphere. Ironically the SIB circle is now so large, we've had to automate the blogroll just to keep up with new members. (8/18 Note: Mr Linky is currently not doing so well...but check back in 24hrs and register then to join the blogroll.) I've found many lovely bloggers in this group and feel thrilled that women are still committing to finding each other through this tiny revolution.
For progressive Christian women looking for a network of religious bloggers with a fairly generous orthodoxy I recommend the Emerging Women Network. I've worked with the Emergent Village in the past, and find it to be a wide ranging group of women writing from a moderate to liberal religious perspective. It's a good place to find Christian women (mostly protestant) who are thinking creatively about living out their faith in a postmodern world. Of this group I can personally recommend Emergent Women co-founders Heather Kirk-Davidoff, and the witty spirited Holly Rankin Zaher.
While researching this column I also discovered a couple of networks I'll be sure to follow in the future. New-to-me network Progressive Faith is co-sponsored by one of my long-time blog reads, Rachel Barenblat of Velveteen Rabbi. Progressive Faith connects bloggers of Jewish and Christian persuasions and offers blogrolls, BlogCon carnivals, and even IRL gatherings. I also stumbled across Blogging Between the Worlds, a Pagan bloggers network that supports a blog roll. To help highlight individual bloggers the BTW has a "site of the moment," currently featuring the wild writings of Nettle Rose. I'm sure to be cruising this blog roll for new voices to feature at BlogHer in the weeks to come. (Special thanks to Green Witch for giving me this handy link.)
As a Contributing Editor for BlogHer I'm always looking for strong writers of all kinds of spiritual and religious backgrounds. I know there are other spirituality networks out there that I've yet to discover. If you belong to one, please leave us a link to the about page. Your circle may be just the thing a BlogHer reader is looking for. See you next week!
Rachelle Mee-Chapman is an alt-minister, mom, and writer blogging at Magpie Girl, and now at Food Hero and Minti Parenting. She'll send you helpful links and updates if you follower her on Twitter. Thanks for reading!
]]>I admire that kind of person.
Some religions and/or spiritual paths seem to be pretty sure that happiness comes from within and that it is within your control. Frankly, this blows my mind.
]]>I admire that kind of person.
Some religions and/or spiritual paths seem to be pretty sure that happiness comes from within and that it is within your control. Frankly, this blows my mind.
I often wonder if this kind of positive-thinking is championed primarily by upper-middle-class white women. But I suspect--indeed I hope--that it is more universal. And although my melancholy self is dragging her feet about jumping on the bandwagon, serendipity keeps bringing the happiness principle to my door. I figure I may as well open it and see what happens.
Inspired by conversations at BlogHer '08, Jen, Krystyn, Lucrecer, Alyssa, and Kyran have launched a new blogging project for positive vibes, Positive Posting, where you can lift your spirit, or give someone else's a boost by linking to the postive things you're writing about on your blog.
Life coach Laura Young is really stretching her 'think positive' muscles by imagining that there is a Buddha in the White House. (Yes, that guy, a Buddha----hummmm, this exercise may be too advanced for me!)
Sally Huss and friends are working on taking happiness viral--you can catch the Happiness Epidemic here.
Just Karen points out that happiness might just be an inside job, and that you and you alone are in control of your own happiness. I really, really hope this is true...but if you, like me, are having some doubts, maybe you could hop on over to Karen Maezen Miller's Cheerio Road and try holding on to this small spark of inspiration. And if that's not enough to get your internal happiness combustion engine rolling, perhaps you can wish it into reality here.
What is your sure-fire means of tapping into your internal happiness?
Rachelle Mee-Chapman is an alt-minister, mom, and writer blogging at Magpie Girl. She'll send you helpful links and updates if you follower her on Twitter. Thanks for reading!
]]>First up is the amazing and visionary Karen Ward, Brainmother and Abbess of Church of the Apostles in Seattle, WA. When Karen's postmodern Anglican/Lutheran church plant found themselves in an abandoned sanctuary in the arty Fremont neighborhood, the went right to work converting the place to serve as a community arts center--The Fremont Abbey. This small, vibrant community continues to do innovative work in the area of art-based worship, ancient-future liturgy, and new monasticism while Karen keeps it all thriving from the helm. Check out her long-time blog Submergence, and follow her passion for hospitality at the clever find-a-place-to-crash-pad, Anglicouch.
Next to shine is Rev. Dr. Liz Rios, Christian, minister, life coach and one hot mama! Liz can help you get through major life blows as a Rebound Coach; share the journey of parenting kids with special needs; and give you resources that will send your spirit to a more holistic place. Don't miss her inspiring and informative blog, Latina Liz.
I'm happy to report that long-time blogger and fiction author Claudia Mair Burney is back in the blogosphere! While Ragamuffin Diva is still on-line for those longing for archives, Mair also has as new blog focusing on her novels and public speaking gigs. Mair writes the Amanda Bell Brown mystery series and is now sending Exorsistah and Wounded out into the world. Women of color are front and center in all of Mair's works -- treading out into worlds of faith, mysticism, mystery, and yes dears, romance!
Link us up to some love...highlight a blogger of color in the comments below and make all our world's a little bigger and a whole lot better!
Rachelle Mee-Chapman is an alt-minister, mom, and writer blogging at Magpie Girl. She'll send you helpful links and updates if you follower her on Twitter. Thanks for reading!
]]>Dreamboarding is a way of capturing your deepest hopes and offering them up to the Universe in physical form. Suzie hosts a Dreamboard round up every month for the Full Moon. This month I made my very first Dreamboard, "I Was Meant for the Stage." I found it to be empowering, comforting, and celebrative-- in fact, it felt a little bit like passing around a snapshot of your sonogram.
What Suzie is encouraging is so powerful, and I think we should do what we can to get more women (and men) manifesting dreams into reality. So to get that rolling along, here's a short-and-sweet interview with Suzie to let you in on the Dreamboarding secret.
So Suzie, tell us, what is the basic idea behind a Dreamboard?
You put together words, images...pretty much anything that represents your dream together in one place to tell the universe, "I want that!"
It's really that simple? And it works?! Will you tell us about what one of your Dreamboards manifested into your life?
My first Dreamboard was for an "adventure mobile". My husband and I had been in an accident in February and really wanted a car that could handle the weather in our new home and keep us safe, but we didn't have a lot of money. Just over a month later we found our car, a little more than I had asked for but thousands less than anywhere else.
As a newcomer to Dreamboarding, can you tell me if there are any essential beliefs or attitudes one should bring to the Dreamboard practice?
You don't have to believe it magic. You just gotta try. I am a huge skeptic and am continuously amazed that asking for what you want works. Be open to the process and see what happens.
When I look at the Dreamboard slide shows from past Full Moons, there is real beauty there in color, texture, and form. What are your favorite supplies and techniques for making Dreamboards?
This month I incorporated natural elements for prosperity: flax seeds and poppy seeds. I also added coins, very powerful coins. They were my grandmother's. I like working more with things that are natural but anything will work as long as they mean something to you.
What you do on your blog with Dreamboards is so inspiring! Can you let us in on some of the bloggers who inspire you?
Oh definitely my sisters! I wouldn't be who I am without them. They are such amazing women. Jamie hosts Wishcasting and also blogs at Starshyne. Shannon writes at Movie Moxie.
You can find Suzie at Suzie's Sacred Space, but don't stop there! Be sure to explore some friends who Dreamboard with her, such as Magical Muse, Bringing Up Salamanders, and Words from a Bohemian Single Mom.
Does the Dreamboard concept catch your fancy? Why not make a gentle contract with yourself to Dreamboard by the next Full Moon (August 16th)? Drop your name in the comments to tell us what your dreaming of Dreamboarding about next month.
Rachelle Mee-Chapman blogs as Magpie Girl. She'll send you helpful links and updates if you follower her on Twitter. Thank you for reading!
]]>You know the kind of days I'm talking about right? Those days when your head hurts, and it's raining in July, and maybe, just maybe, you woke up with sore throat and the realization that it was your turn to bring treats to the preschool only to discover there is nothing but peanut butter in the snack cupboard. On days like this your soul can feel a little crushed.
But then comes beauty, and maybe, just maybe, you might make it after all.
The past few weeks, along with the bumps in the road, serendipity has brought me the back up I need to ride out the rough bits. It's good to have these things on hand -- beauty, music, image -- in short, a little bit of hope.
Bullseye Baby starts us off with the aforementioned "oh-shit-it's-snack day story" and a little bit of Alanis to reminds us how okay life can be.
Jen Lemen, as resourceful as ever, is tapping into Sigur Ros to remind us what hope felt like before we realized we cannot fly (or can we?)
Over at the Ultimate Yes there is some seriously beautiful dancing going on the beach (cunningly created with Smilebox -- who knew?)
And let's hear it for the boys because In the Coracle posted this slick, artful stunner; and The Corner showed us this low-tech inspiration. (I know I posted them a few weeks ago, but they are worth another go-round.)
And what are my personal favorite back-up tunes? I'd have to say they belong to my dream choir which never fails to send my soul soaring by calling me back to the light and reassuring me, once again, that small is beautiful.
What song/video gives you some soulfood when you're feeling hungry? Link us up in the comments below. We all could use the back up!
Rachelle Mee-Chapman blogs as Magpie Girl. She'll send you helpful links and updates if you follower her on Twitter.
]]>-Traditional Greek Proverb
This week I have been particularly inspired by the life story of Miss Jenny, a very ill and very determined young woman who is going to have as much fun as possible until it's time to say goodbye.
]]>-Traditional Greek Proverb
This week I have been particularly inspired by the life story of Miss Jenny, a very ill and very determined young woman who is going to have as much fun as possible until it's time to say goodbye.
About year ago, when she was 13, healthy, and able-bodied, Jenny received a vaccine. Directly afterwards, her body began to collapse. She is now paralyzed, with the paralysis growing more severe as time passes.
While her parents are concerned that heavy metals in the vaccine may have triggered her neurological condition, they are by no means asserting that this is in fact the case. In the face of a non-diagnosis, Jenny's family has taken a clever and innovative approach, using a blog to ask the public to contact them if they have had comparable experiences/symptoms. The details on the 'comparables' can be found here.
What attracts my attention to Jenny's story is not political or medical intrigue, but rather the stunning way in which this 14 year old girl is holding both grief and hope in the same hand. Her attitude and young wisdom is epitomized in this story, posted on her blog as told by her father:
[Jenny] awed me with her compassion today: she could see I was close to crying and she told me to come over and hug her – and she then looked me right in the eyes and said matter-of-factly: 'don't worry – it will soon be all over.' I felt simultaneously struck with grief but also proud of her courage. I will remember that moment until the day I die (indeed, especially on the day I die).
I burst into tears and declared we were doing all we could to stop the disease – she smiled knowingly and said: 'let's just try to have some fun.'
Where does it come from? This spirit of hope in the midst of pain and in the face of death? God? The Universe? Our own deep Spirit? All of the above?
Regardless of the answer, Jenny is an real, human example of being honest about our suffering and yet embracing the life we have yet to live. In an effort to support her positive outlook and to nurture it as much as possible, Jacqueline of Rebel One in Eight has started a Let's Have Fun group at Flickr where you can post joyful pictures to accompany Jenny on this journey. I hope you will all pull a face, do a cannonball, or otherwise goof around to add to the positive, joyful energy that is holding Jenny now. (And if you drop Jenny a love note in the description of your picture, so much the better!)
Other women in the blogosphere who are inspiring me with their willingness to live in the twin paradox of grief and hope include:
Kate Inglils at Sweet:Salty: celebrating life with one twin, while mourning the loss of the other.
River at Baghdad Burning: determinedly writing the truth about the hardships and bravery of life in Iraq, and in exile.
Jenny Ballantyne at The Comfy Place: writing well and honestly about the rage, hope, wonder, and dread of living with cancer -- and an boy named Jack.
Christine Valters Paintner at Abbey of the Arts: offering beautiful cards with quotes for the grieving soul.
As you move through the unexpected waves of grief and hope that life so often sends our souls, may you take to heart what Jen says, because it is so wise and so true:
Whatever you do, hold on to hope. The tiniest thread will twist into an unbreakable cord. Let hope anchor you in the possibility that this is not the end of your story, that change will bring you to peaceful shores.
Rachelle Mee-Chapman blogs as Magpie Girl. She'll send you helpful links and updates if you follower her on Twitter.
]]>This week, with the floods, and the fires, and the political upheavals, my heart has been heavy. I've wanted alternately to act and to hide, to write checks and to dive under the blankets.
But the blankets are no place for revolution, and if you don't at least carry the water you have been given, the flames will never dissolve.
]]>This week, with the floods, and the fires, and the political upheavals, my heart has been heavy. I've wanted alternately to act and to hide, to write checks and to dive under the blankets.
But the blankets are no place for revolution, and if you don't at least carry the water you have been given, the flames will never dissolve.
Every spiritual path calls us to extend love into the world -- to pass the plate, to spread out the bounty. If we miss this step....well, let's not find out what happens, shall we?
Today in the aftermath of floods in the American Midwest and fires in on the western shores; in the face on unspeakable horrors in Zimbabwe; in the unending reality of war in Iraq, we can take action. Our sisters and brothers are showing us the way. We can join them, each with our small effort, our cup of water, our metal bucket. Where they lead us, we can follow--and maybe instead of flames of destruction, we create the cleansing heat of love.
Jennifer at Cooking in the 'Cuse shows us how to turn a shovelful and feed a neighborhood.
Jen Lemen works on cows and small business in Africa.
Professor Kim is starting a conversation about creative solutions.
Monkfish Abbey reminds us two ways to pray, and how to remember.
Mike Todd give us shoes on the path to peace.
Bob Carlton points us to two celebrities who inspire us towards change.
Who is helping you figure out how to be a part of the bucket brigade today? Your recommendation in the comments could be the one thing that sparks someone's passion for change!
Rachelle Mee-Chapman blogs as Magpie Girl. She'll send you helpful things and updates if you follower her on Twitter.
]]>I was at Stonehenge not long ago, fresh from the opulence of Europe’s finest cathedrals, ready to be unimpressed by a ring of stones surrounded by security fencing. I was surprised to find such holiness there, walking in a round where people have paced for thousands of years; waiting for the shard of light to crack the sky; hoping for a life continued. I followed the tour and when I reached the Heelstone, paused to touch its side. As I felt the warmth of the sarsen stone under my hand, I noticed a young woman walking counter clockwise to the organized tour, her shoes in her hand, her feet on holy ground. Seeing her example, I wanted suddenly to sink to my knees. It was all I could to do still my voice, to not incant ‘Holy, Holy, Holy.’ But I was unaccustomed to being a stranger in a strange land for so many long months, worn down from always sticking out, from always being obvious. I did not have the confidence to kneel in front of so many tourists in windbreakers and cameras. (Who knew the bending of the knee could be an act requiring so much strength?) Instead I stayed my hand on the stone, leaned my weight into my palm, and let my soul pour out thanks. Gratitude for the light. Gratitude for continuance. Gratitude for all that we need to go on.
The Solstices -- both Summer and Winter--are amongst my favorite celebrations of the sacred year. The welcoming the light's return (Winter) and celebrating it's long, glowing zenith (Summer) are so rich with metaphor they capture many a seeker's heart. In our community, we've celebrated it various ways over the years: chalking out blessings on the sidewalks near our home; crafting lamps to bring light to our neighbors; serving our local parade by festively cleaning up trash and recycling; dancing in the sun and feasting by the firelight; and always by offering each other this Celtic blessing (more on the blessing here):
May the blessing of light be upon you –
Light without and light within.
May the blessed sunlight shine on you like a great fire,
So that stranger and friend may come and warm themselves at it.And may light shine out of the two eyes of you,
Like a candle set in the window of a house,
Bidding the wanderer to come in out of the storm.
This year Carla B. at Zena Musings celebrates her turn round the single-married-single circle with a garden-full of blessings and song.
Kellementology allows herself to bathe in the light and anchor her year in hope:
And when I look at that horizon tonight, clouds or no clouds, I know that I will be thinking more about what lies ahead instead of what has passed. I know that I will wonder about it with anticipation, and not dread, or fear. I know that I will feel opportunity and possibility, because that’s who I am.
While Kelly at Dragonfly Reflections turns to Keri Smith and Wreck this Journal to let go of the past.
LilMel at Random Ramblings has some wiccanish tips for celebration at her place.
Finally, Monique at Living in the Light I Find reminds us on this celebration of light, that ying goes with yang and sun goes with moon:
It's good to be reminded of balance and counter-balance, and that even when things are not tangibly equal in our lives, they are being balanced still.
How do you celebrate the Summer Solstice? Mark your astrological calendars for next year when the longest day of the year falls on June 20th.
Rachelle Mee-Chapman blogs at Magpie Girl. Get blog post updates by following her on Twitter.
]]>Grandma's hands are gnarled by arthritis, so I help her cut her steak. She weighs about 99 pounds these days, but she eats with relish. "Ummm.This steak is so good. Ummmm! Can I try your shrimp? "
]]>Grandma's hands are gnarled by arthritis, so I help her cut her steak. She weighs about 99 pounds these days, but she eats with relish. "Ummm.This steak is so good. Ummmm! Can I try your shrimp? "
After the margarita and before I can surreptitiously chug most of her wine, Grandma picks up her glass and leans over to me conspiratorially.
"I got a tattoo, you know."
This happened a year ago. Grandma, at 82, had been suddenly longing for a tattoo, and talked about it incessantly. Finally, my Aunt, in an uncharacteristic burst of caregiver frustration said, "Fine, Mom! Go get a tattoo!" My rebel cousin, Eric, was there at the time, and he and Grandma decided to take that as a go-ahead. The next week Eric and Grandma went on a field trip. When they got back, both cuz' and granny had new ink.
"It's an angel on my shoulder." she says. Here, Grandma paused for a dramatic swig of the house white, "I have my beliefs you know!"
Indeed I do know, though I've had to listen between the lines to find them. Grandma, always the spunky edge dweller, never towed the protestant line. Instead she knit together a spirituality that combined a little of big of Blackfoot folklore; a strong pull towards the mountains; and some affection for Jesus on the side. This angel -- a small smear of blue-green ink on the soft wrinkled skin of her shoulder blade--this is her guide now, helping her through the drawn out years of her 'final days', and into the unknown and unknowable hereafter.
I take heart in my Grandma's tattoo; in her love for the hillside she re-planted with pines after the fire; in her sudden insistence that all the great-grandchildren have leather-clad Bibles with their names embossed in gold. She has created her own path--godward, onward. In these her final days, when stories spill out of her like down from a pillow, she has helped me to see that my gender, my era, and my distracted spiritual self can help me find the way to my most soul-felt home.
Other bloggers writing about the wisdom of our elders this week:
Tess Marshall at Anchors and Masts has a new take on the Red Riding Hood fable, and points out that Grandma was already living in the forest we are supposed to fear. (It's an 'ah-ha moment' -- go read it)
Piper at Bliss in Bloom will make you cry and call your grandfather as she tells us this story about Grandpa and the purse.
Jena Strong at Bullseye Baby is back again this week with a touching story about her grandmother and her daughter, and how a common name returned their family to their maternal heritage.
And while this piece has already been highlighted by Virginia in her wise weekly column, I think it's worth another mention here...Elizabeth Glass at The Couch sums up a neat list of lessons the elders in her life have bequeathed her.
Next Week in this column: Reflections on the Summer Solstice. Are you planning on blogging about the Light? Email me your post's permalink: moi at magpie dash girl dot com.
]]>These poems are what I have come to think of of as "plainsight poetry," that is, verses which must be kept at easy access. The one I most need now is this:
]]>These poems are what I have come to think of of as "plainsight poetry," that is, verses which must be kept at easy access. The one I most need now is this:
Harlem [2]
What happens to a
dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore--
And then run?
Does it stink like
rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over--
like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
I have to have this close at hand or my own doubts and the naysaying voices of others will drown out the dreams I hold within. Often I need this poem as well, to keep the fear at bay:
Forget safety.
Live where you fear
to live.
Destroy your reputation.
Be notorious.
This week a handful of generous bloggers have offered us a peek into their notebooks and fridge-fronts to see what poetry is sustaining their souls. Within this collection you may find a new piece to prop you up, help you go deep, or give you some nourishment for the journey.
Tess Marshall at Anchors and Masts has given us this inspiring piece about the oft-submerged power of womanhood:
In her bottled up is a woman peppery as curry,
a yam of a woman of butter and brass,
compounded of acid and sweet like a pineapple,
like a handgrenade set to explode,
like goldenrod ready to bloom.
If that isn't enough of a soul-massage, you can also sink into the marvelous photography of Lili Viera de Carvalho that accompanies Tess's post. Or, follow the flow of inspiration from Marge to Tess to Lucy as she follows up with this visual post at Lucy Creates. (Don't you just love that blogging synergy?)
Sandy Carlson at Writing in Faith has kindly reviewed poet Mary Oliver's Thirst. Thirst was published in 2007, and is a collection of poetry written after the death of her life-partner. Oliver who has long inspired us to gratitude and hope with poems like this one, (reflected upon here by Jen Lemen), will surely be a wise guide into the great and terrible questions surrounding love, God, and grief.
Someone I loved once gave me a
box full of darkness.
It took me years to understand
that this, too, was a gift.from The Uses of Sorrow
by Mary Oliver
Finally in two slightly different takes on poetry-that-inspires, Bette at Surimono Garden has given us a combination of words-plus-video here, while Elizabeth Glass at The Couch gives us poetry set to music with lyrics from Over the Rhine. (You really should stop by their place and have a listen. They are a terrific duo.)
Do you have a favorite poem that feeds your spirit or soothes your soul? Let us know in the comments below. Namaste.
]]>Poets were my first priests, and poetry itself my first altar. -Mary Karr
Since the Enlightenment Era we've been very busy pursuing knowledge--and correspondingly with arguing over which group has cornered the market on getting-it-right. Now that we've moved into a post-enlightenment, post-modern millennium, many of us are realizing that facts are slippery creatures. Suddenly our perspectives shift and we see that what is true for you is so very often not true for me...or the other way around...or both things in the same breath-taking moment.
]]>Poets were my first priests, and poetry itself my first altar. -Mary Karr
Since the Enlightenment Era we've been very busy pursuing knowledge--and correspondingly with arguing over which group has cornered the market on getting-it-right. Now that we've moved into a post-enlightenment, post-modern millennium, many of us are realizing that facts are slippery creatures. Suddenly our perspectives shift and we see that what is true for you is so very often not true for me...or the other way around...or both things in the same breath-taking moment.
In a post-modern world fact is not quite as valued as it once was. Not because we are throwing away the scientific method, or tossing our collective hat in with the nihilists. But because a global world with its widening values and intricate networks of moral norms requires that many things take on a new level of ambiguity. Within that ambiguity we need forms of communication which will allow things to be fuzzy around the edges. This is why I believe you have to use art to preach.
Art, open for interpretation and rife with semi-permeable membranes of meaning, allows us to live within the fuzzy edges of post-modern life without feeling adrift from our center. It fits our current way of living so much more so than "ten of this" or "seven steps to that". Which is one of the reason why poetry, for so many people right now, is prayer.
Everywhere I look writers of heart and spirit are making new poetry--or discovering and re-discovering old poetry. These words, loosed from the structure of prose, have become our litany. Rumi is on all my friend's bulletin boards, and if you look closely you'll probably find Hafiz, and Gibran as well. Anais Ninn is making the rounds, ee cummings has laid out his calling card, and I'm pretty sure Mary Oliver is getting a lot of text messages.
I'm am not very well educated in regards to poetry. In reading great works, lines which are even a little obtuse tend to escape my notice. But even with my undeveloped palate, when I read something like this I know my heart has come home:
we can sound the music in the people around us
simply by playing our own strings...
you have a drum in your chest that can save us...
These are the stirring words of Andrea Gibson, brought to us via Crunchy on the Inside. Gibson is an award winning slam poet who's spoken word burns like distilled passion. To me, many of her poems are prayers: prayers of hope, like Say Yes; and prayers for healing like Blue Blanket. I'm so grateful to her for her bravery and raw courage, and Ms. J at Crunch for pointing me Gibson's way.
Speaking of Crunchy on the Inside, this terrific blogger has been kind enough of late to point us to Patti Digh of 37 Days, who in turns points us to Alison Luterman. Her poem Invisible Word rings true as a prayer begging for just a little recognition, please, of all the women who do the silent work of everyday life without notice or reward:
Because no one could ever praise me enough,
because I don't mean these poems only,
but the unseen
unbelievable effort it takes to live
the life that goes on between them,
I think all the time about invisible work.
Also in the poetic atmosphere is Christine Valters Paintner, who continues to bring out poets and prayers over at Abbey of the Arts. This week she's hosting her 18th Poetry Party where bloggers are invited to submit a themed poetic meditation and quite possibly win a prize. And speaking of great poets, Christine offers us a purse-sized collection of some of the greatest in her four-seasons prayer cards. One of the cards Christine sent me last year is now one of my favorite prayers of blessing, which I frequently offer to others:
A poet is someone
who can pour light
into a cup
then raise it to nourish
your beautiful, parched, holy mouth.-Hafiz
Still feel kind of sheepish calling an hour with your favorite poet an hour of prayer? Try reading Peggy Rosenthal's post at Image Journal where she quotes Edward Hirsch as saying:
Serious poetry seeks the transformation both of the speaker of the poem and the reader waiting somewhere down the line.
And then there is Mary Karr's interpretation of what happens when poetry and prayer align as one:
I've written elsewhere of [poetry's] Eucharistic qualities...in memorizing poems I loved, I "ate" them in a way. I breathed as the poet breathed to recite the words: someone else's suffering and passion enters your body to transfom you, partly by joining you to others in a saving circle.
"Joining you to others in a saving circle." It strikes me that this is similar to what Gibson is telling us in Say Yes, when she informs us that if two violins are in a room, one's strings will resonate when the other's are sounded. And that is the prayer I leave you with today, that what Andrea Gibson breathes into being might be true:
We can sound the music in the people around us,
simply by playing our own strings.
In a world of slippery facts, I know this to be true: The world needs your prayers. Sing out. Amen? Amen.
Do you have a poem you'd like to offer to the universe (or at least to the BlogHer readers that occupy this little part of it?) Got a favorite website for poetic inspiration? Please link us up in the comments below.
]]>For instance, in my experience creativity is nearly always spiritual. So are certain kinds of spaces that have a hush and a power, even if it is just the quite corner of a crumbling stone wall or the way my daughter looks while she’s gulping water from the park’s drinking fountain. So much of music is spiritual, especially untrained singing and things that are a little off-key. Oh, and motherhood. Motherhoods is spiritual...umm...sometimes. Like last week, when I had this moment with Cate, and other people noticed the moment too, and spread it around so other could find their way too.
Other times motherhood and spirituality seem to be having a serious disconnect. Like today, for instance, where motherhood has included:
It was the playdate that landed motherhood squarely in the “not spiritual” section today. It ended after a mere 30minutes because one of the children managed to bleed three times in ten minutes; a second child was swelling up from some kind of insect bites; and a third was soaked from chin to waste from “getting a drink” at the water fountain. (Are you sure you don’t call that “taking a shower?”)
On days like this, motherhood does not feel spiritual, or enlightening, or even vaguely poetic. Rather, it feels like a long slow slip into failure--the end result being two kids sitting mind numbingly in front of the television and one mother drinking white wine in an effort to self medicate. Nope. Not spiritual at all.
So imagine my gratitude when I found these wonderful posts from women who shine light on the lovelier aspects of mothering. Renee Alston is writing poetry about loving Gaia (mama-earth) over at Iuana.
Jena Strong of Bullseye Baby is back again this week with a short but sustaining post on a mother’s Shabbat experience with her sleeping (!) family.
And Kate has laid the most holy ground in her words about saying goodbye to one baby, while loving the one who is still physically with her. Kate’s writing at sweet/salty is some of the finest I’ve read, and a must for any fellow traveler who has seen child a leave this world too soon.
May these posts bring you inspiration this week on the (sometimes) spiritual rollercoaster of everyday life. Namaste.
Rachelle is always on the lookout for posts to feature in her weekly editorial at BlogHer. If you blog regularly about spirituality of any variety, email her: moi at magpie-girl dot com.
]]>Every day it’s the same story. I pick Cate up from school and she happily shows me the new trick she can do on the peddle car; the stone she dug up in the sand pit; how many times she can hop the jump rope on one foot. We find Eden and start the ten minute walk home. By minute seven Cate is screaming about something. Anything.
]]>Every day it’s the same story. I pick Cate up from school and she happily shows me the new trick she can do on the peddle car; the stone she dug up in the sand pit; how many times she can hop the jump rope on one foot. We find Eden and start the ten minute walk home. By minute seven Cate is screaming about something. Anything.
We started with sympathy, then moved on to time outs, and I’m sure at some point there’s been some yelling on my part as well. Clearly Cate was struggling with the transition between school and home. Clearly she was angry. And clearly whatever she was yelling about was not what was really bothering her.
Finally, I sat her down at the kitchen table and got down at eye level. I addressed her very calmly and very seriously,
“Cate. This isn’t working. You’re having trouble moving between being at school and being at home. I can see that you are angry, right?”
“Yes! I. AM. ANGRY!” (also crying)
“It’s totally okay to be angry. But screaming at Mommy is not okay, right?”
“RIGHT! OKAY? OKAY? RIGHT! RIGHT! RIGHT!”
“Did you know anger is a cover-up emotion? It covers up some other emotion. Something else is hiding under there.”
“It is?” (now backing down to mere sniffles)
“Yes. And I need you to think about it and tell me what it is that’s hiding under there.”
With that, the floodgates broke open. She missed all the friends she left behind when we moved. She didn’t have any friends at school. And she missed BF Day (her old school.) And some of the kids said mean things. And she doesn’t know Danish yet. And her only friends who speak English live far, far away. And had she alredy mentioned she didn’t have any friends!!!!???!!!
Well, I’d already addressed all of those things. We talked about how making friends was her superpower, but that it took time. I had reminded her that we had only been at the new school for 2 weeks. I had explained that it would take a little longer than usual because we don’t know Danish yet. But, I had assured her, friends would come.
Knowing I’d already said all of this, and having a not unsmall amount of parental wisdom, I did not go into this again. Instead I asked her a question of clarification,
“Cate. Do you want Mommy to talk about all these problems with you, or do you just need someplace to put them all?”
“Like what place?”
“Like a shrine.”
“I could make a shrine?”
Sure could.
I dove under my desk and came up with three or four odd little boxes and tins. Cate chose a tin that used to hold bandages – Jesus bandages to be exact. After asking for stickers, tape and some scratch paper, Cate went to work. Soon she had a bonafide Shrine for Hard Feelings. It consisted of the bandage tin, a sticker of a sacred heart Jesus, some fortune cookie sized strips of paper cello-taped to the side, and one of those tiny golf pencils. Cate wrote her hard feelings down on the pieces of paper and tucked them into the tin.
“If I put these in here, Jesus will make the sad feelings go away.” she said.
“Well,” I fine tuned, “Jesus might not make them go all the way away, but at least he can hold them for a little while.”
Cate has been faithfully using the Shrine for Hard Feelings for a week now. Sometimes she’ll start ramping up into a yell-fest, but then you can see her sort of visibly pull up, and she’ll say “Wait a minute,” and go find her shrine. I’ll see her scribbling away, then tucking the paper into the tin and snapping it shut. A few minutes later she’ll be back with me, or her sister, or her dad, and the steam will have been vented.
Sometimes I wonder what all my ad hoc spirituality is teaching my children. I'm trying my best -- but so did my parents, and my church, and my religious school -- and I sure ended up with a bunch of crap mixed in there with the goodies. If I make up random sacraments, if my children spend their lives building Shrines for Hard Feelings and hurling plates at Anger Altars, will they regret it? I am not sure. But this I believe; my attempts, though small and flawed and most assuredly open for misinterpretation, these humble attempts at caring for these precious souls will teach them these true things.
Your feelings are real.
Someone loves you enough to help in hard times.
God is big enough to handle your anger.
There is a place for you.
That seems like a good place to start.
Find other great posts this week about children’s spirituality:
* On Baptism from Donald Donato at In Pluris Naturalisbus (Gnostic Christian)
* A Blessing for a Baby Shower, Stasi McAteer at Feminary
* High Point/Low Point and a Circle of Love from Jenna Strong at Bullseye Baby
* Baby Naming Ceremony from Rachel Barenblat at Velveteen Rabbi (Jewish/Christian)
* Earth Centered Baby Naming Ceremony from Rachel Barenblat at Velveteen Rabbi (General)
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Do you have the answers? I will readily admit, I don’t. Not even close. But this I believe: We must stay rooted to our mother if we are to find the will and way to keep trying; to keep looking for answers that will let us live sustainably, leaving only the softest of footprints on this earth.
Many people on spiritual paths intentionally honor the creative energy and nurturing qualities of the earth in their traditions and practices. Others find a similar connection along the way, but in a less intentional route. I’ve been grateful this week to find bloggers of both varieties, and happily share them with you now.
At Unique Muslimah there’s a brief but lovely post up about how seeing nature’s wonders through the photographer’s eyes just might build a bridge between Muslim and non-Muslim women. (Camera + Garden = Peacekeeping. Now see, there’s one solution I’d never considered.)
Tess at Anchors and Masts features this post with a gorgeous photograph by Paul Peracchia that makes you long to root down into the earth, and a beautiful quotation from Jalaluddin Rumi reminding us to stay awake to the wonders around us.
Christine Valters Paintner at Abbey of the Arts offers us a visual and poetic meditation connecting our hope with the earth’s sturdy be-ing.
Finally Rebecca Powell at The Meantime calls us all to practice stillness with her story of finding quiet in the desert.
And as a little Earth Day celebration from me to you, I’ve finally posted a series of yoga poses that I’ve always wanted to do with a group of women on May Day/Beltane in honor of Mother Earth. As these Spring celebrations roll by we may not be able to stand on the same patch of ground, but perhaps we can join each other across the miles to kiss the earth and promise to treat her a little better this year than we did the last.
Namaste!
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