Love is a direction

He tells me his shoes are all scuffed from walking. ... Scuffed by the heaviness that make his knees ache under the burden and his arches throb from the extra weight.  His energy depleted, he can barely lift his feet.  Still he walks.  And walks.  With a shuffle.  A scuffed up suffering shuffle. 

At night,  he lays on his side of the bed, his body taut in buzzing anxiety, clenched jaw, tense muscles ... his unsettled heart fibrillating off beat. Erratic thoughts race through his dreams.  He is caught like a fly in a spider web as he volleys between questions and answers.   

 "I'm stuck in a place of indecision,  caused by too many to make," he says, "so I keep walking even in my sleep."

The bed....their bed......is now as comfortable as a concrete slab, unwelcoming in its reminder of what had been,  what IS, and what seems to be the conclusion....

brokenness

loneliness

fear

sorrow

guilt

shame

He can't think beyond immediacy and it hurts.  From head to toe it hurts.  His present moment has become a slivering doubt, with the lament of the past merging with the heart thumping anxiety of the future.  When he awakes from a dreamless night, his whole body aches from restless wanderings, steeped grovellings of ungranted forgiveness. It takes every ounce of energy not to roll over to face the wall as he makes himself sit up to a wave of unwelcome bile brought on by realization that its over.  It's over. 

But life still goes on despite the grief of his clenched  soul. Work, bills, meetings, appointments, family, errands, responsibilities ... listening to the drab complaints echoing all around him. There's no escaping the hum of a scuffed life.

"I have to maintain the grip," he says, "because if I let go even for a second I will fall off the ledge and break into a million pieces.  I wouldn't be fixable. It would be the end of me." So he holds on, fingertips on ledges, hoping the nightmare will end.

With memorized motions,  he shuffles off to work, his hands closed tightly,  stuffed in his pockets. He walks against the bitter  April wind.  His breathing's short snippy gasps lacks fresh air oxygen.  It shorts out his thinking,  and leaves him clouded in confusion. A clenched soul, stuck in the discomforting transition of change, numbed by too much real, feeling like if he surrenders to his feelings, he will be sucked into a vortex.   Lost in his own miserable meanderings, he rarely registers the world around him.  It's like he's formed a bubble of discontent around his body.  Love can't escape.  It can't get in either.   

For some reason this morning, he looks up from his self absorption and sees two men, homeless and huddled under a ratty wool blanket leaning against the corner of the grey brick wall away from the entrance to the park. Their winter wool caps are moth eaten worn. Their faces are haggard from a tangled hard life. He sees one of the men pull a worn lunch bag out of his jacket  pocket and take out a sandwich. 

Without a word spoken, the man carefully unwraps it, and gives half to his friend to share. As these two ragamuffin men sit in a moment of kindred serenity, oblivious to their surroundings, sharing the only food they have, the clenched souled man stops dead on the sidewalk and stares at them.  The scene pierces through his armour, as he realizes he is witnessing the essence of love. Humanity in its ordinary glory. 

 In a rush of awareness, his warm tears trickle down his cheeks.  His shoulders give way to humble gratitude.  His heart softens as his thoughts percolate with a nod towards what matters and a dismissal of all that doesn't.  In one marked moment, he lets go of the myriad of questions as he realizes he simply has to trust in love. 

 

Tired and spent but now wide awake, the bubbled of discontent bursts as he catches the eyes of the two friends sharing lunch.  He smiles at them, then wipes his nose on his coat sleeve, inhales the biggest breath of much needed air and walks on towards the little chapel he passes everyday on his way to work. Though empty and silent, the chapel still beckons.

He pulls open the heavy wooden door to find a stream of sunlight dappling through the stain glass and walks over to the pew bathed in the sun's rays. He sits quietly ..... alone .... silent, and realizes his heart pain of loneliness had lifted, replaced with the comfort that perhaps love gets lost in the jumble of complicated feelings that wax and wane.  

Once found, perhaps love is a direction. The guide.  It is how you choose to see life.  It is where you  choose to place your gaze.  He had allowed his feelings along with his stubborn will to shut himself off from the person who loved him the most.  She had done the same. 

He unclenches his hands, and gently lays his fingers together, his palms touching........and looks up at the ceiling.  Despite the uncertainty of the future, he felt a calmness bathe over him and his determination return.  In silent reverence to his new found direction he turns his face towards the beam of  sunlight and whispers the words, "thank you."  


He found the tonic for his clenched soul...... in the sharing of a sandwich.

renewal of our senses

This morning, I will be reading this prayer..... I wanted to share it with you in hopes you will be there with me in spirit.....!  Happy Sunday Morning!!

__________________________________________

Let us take a moment to be still together and take in a collective deep breath............

Good morning dear God.

As we gather here before You with refreshed breath of Your Spirit, we give our heartfelt thanks for the simple extraordinary gifts You provide with abundance every single day. Sometimes miss them in the flurry of our lives.  Today, in our stillness and in our hearts…….

We hear…….

the song of the birds
the voice of a troubadour
the encouraging words of a friend.
Vivaldi’s Four Seasons streaming out into the open air....

Let us feel…..

the touch of a loved one
the peace of tranquility
the marvel of a connection.
the embrace of gratitude.
the breeze of a spring day.
The kiss of respect.

Help us inhale….
the aroma of fresh mown grass
the sun bursting with rain
the lingering scent of clean laundry
the wafting essence of lavender bubbles
Our Grandmother’s perfume

let us remember the taste of…..

fresh strawberries
cold water
peppermint coolness
The sweet miraculous drop of maple syrup

Let us envision….

Our children engaged in play
A solitary paddler gliding upriver
a white tailed deer stepping out of the woods
our own beautiful reflection
the smile of a friend.....
the eyes of a stranger.
Humans
Humans all around us who may be lost on their journey.

In our stillness, God, help us to remember how to take those steps towards accepting the changes in our lives knowing that sometimes you have to grieve a thousand times before you can inhale the refreshed scent of an old breeze.  Help us to walk into the centre of our vulnerable holy space over and over again to touch upon the wound that weeps those trapped remembering tears so that the old stories of a loved one can be told again with a merciful heart and a smile.   Help us help others who are in need of this support too.

Thank you God for surrounding us with those signs of renewal….. beacons which allow us to reflect upon our own transformations.  Through our life experiences, we learn that we share the same feelings, similar moments of happiness and heartbreak.  This is what blends our souls in a spiritual sense of oneness.  We all know the feeling of hungry hope.  You have provided us with this gift, God.  Hope, you have taught us, is a companion of a broken spirit.  It is the oxygen in the breeze that caresses our restless sufferings with tenderness.  Hope reminds renewal to be patient with its re-emerging and teaches renewal that most of our personal growth will be invisible on the outside, but colourfully recognizable when we gaze inwardly to speak to You.

Through our suffering God, we are learning to let go…. To surrender our pain.  Through surrendering, we are learning how interconnected we are with You with one another.  Its good to feel loved in a much different way than perhaps we have ever felt before.

Forgive us dear God, for we are often slow to catch on because we tend to veer out into the wild and lose our way busy trying to deal with the events life throws at us.  Please help us remember that what may feel overwhelming today will soften in the light of days to come.  Please remind us God that renewal doesn't occur because of one event.  It may be the spark that ignites the change in direction, but it is not the conclusion.  Rather, it is the foundation we rely upon for support as we ride the waves of change, one wave at a time.

With your Guidance God, we will learn to walk aided and unaided........ to take risks while learning as much from our hurts as we do our triumphs.  By so doing, we learn that we belong to a universe who shares the same feelings, who thrive and survive, who suffer and feel joy, who nurture and are nurtured by one another.

As pilgrims dear God, guide us to share a story with another, to have that conversation that feels too difficult to start, to use the gift of our senses so that we can appreciate the freshness of this season, to delight in the knowledge that we are unfinished beautiful human sculptures who know how to give love and kindness with respect.  

May we leave here today with a lighter fullness in our walk, refreshed breath of the Holy Spirit  and the energy to pass our goodness onto to others. 

Amen.

you win some....

 a cross of limbs

But you might get lucky now and then

You win some, you might get lucky now and then

You win some

 Mark Knopfler, Get Lucky

I have learned to find stillness inside my core.  Not all the time.  When I need to seek it. Music guides me there. With its soothing melodic sound, I allow it to surround me like a warm comforting shawl wrapped around my whole body. Soft earthy colours that gently touches my senses but doesn't impede my freedom to allow life's hymns to penetrate my flesh. In fact, it seems to do the opposite.  It opens me up to receiving the flow of thought and feeling as I breathe.  Accompanied by candlelight clarity and ancient hymns, I have learned to seek out a relaxed sanctuary where I can embrace vulnerability with a sense of soul safety.  

Sometimes, I don't have to set up my own little chapel of stillness.  Sometimes, it finds me when I'm least expecting it or when I need it the most..... when the sounds of my world resemble clashing cymbals, offbeat noise generated by loud obnoxious fumes generated from life out of hand.  Ringing in my ears.  Ringing in my soul.  I've learned to recognize those off kilter moments, especially if I am physically and/or emotionally spent, and do something about it.  Then, I gather my outgoing energy and turn it inwards.  Just for a brief respite until I can reach the end of a stressful, busy, loud noisy day when I can snuggle into the comfort of the shawl for a longer period of time.  It makes me smile as I write this. Regeneration. 

Paradoxically, it's a process of regaining some control of what is allowed to penetrate me and what I long to release by letting go of the controls.  Recently, I learned itt's a form of centring.  Integrating head and heart with something far deeper and mysterious in the core of my soul.  That is where the guiding light is.  Down this dark shadowy tunnel, a guiding light awaits.  Its glow awakens calm, courage, clarity.  Its glow invites resolution by letting you safely look deeply into the place where tears are made.  Not the ones that flow down cheeks. These soultears are the ones that weep into muscles and bones.  They touch upon the tension and untie the bruising knots that stiffen the body and mind.  Just by breathing.  Alone.  In candlelight clarity.  Inside ancient hymns.  Healing happens.

Since I'm not a person prone to following directions or rules, my drummer beats to its own cadence.  In the summer, I sat outside on my back deck under the stars surrounded by the warm wafting breeze, enraptured by the fireflies while listening to music.  Sometimes I had a hot mug of tea close by.  Sometimes I poured myself a glass of crisp white wine to sip on.  Behind me, music would play out of the speakers, filling the air around me with loving familiarity.  A whole evening would slip away as I sat in peace, allowing the thoughts and feelings transfer in and out of my consciousness as I listened to a few selected CD's.  One of them was Mark Knopfler's, Get Lucky.  This fall, I misplaced the CD.  I don't have a clue where it went because I never took it outside of the house.  Mysteriously, it disappeared and it has bothered me that I have lost my copy.  Since then, I have found other pieces of music..... some classical, some traditional choir music..... some jazz melodies.

Memories, ideas, beautiful faces from the past, fears, grief, gaps of wondering if I would ever find the answers.  It helped me to immeasurably learn that not only are there many important situational events in life that have no resolution, it doesn't matter if you just let go of their hold on you. Ah, but then there were moments of clarity when the messages reached me........ of how blessed I am.  How loved I am.  How contented I felt.  How you win some.  How letting those tears hiding inside the soul come alive when the light is shone on them. 

This gift I have been given first revealed itself over a year ago when I attended the Greenbelt festival and found myself exhausted and jittered with stressy complications walking into an ethereal feeling room called Soulspace.  I wrote about the experience, here, here and here.  (I had a lot to say!  It was so new to me that I wanted to capture its full essence....)  Yes, I had to fly across the deep Atlantic pond to find a way to stillness!  I am forever grateful because it has been my companion, my guide, my way of resolving the pain and hurt I have felt during my marriage break-up more than any other activity.  It was only this fall though that I learned while at a writing/meditation retreat that what I had been practising was a formal way of praying!  And to think I thought I was moving to an original beat! Of course it is a process tied into the school of the eternal. 

So, why do I bring it up this morning....... a seemingly typical November day that is about to welcome daylight in shades of grey?  It has been a while since the music from my summer moments sitting out in warm healing breezes under the stars returned.  But, when I open my eyes, I swear I could hear it playing...... you win some........ you might get lucky now and then........ you win some........ Knopfler's reliable voice was playing in my psyche.  Needless to say, I awoke calm.  I awoke with a smile on my face of memories of stillness... of sitting alone but never feeling alone.  

No need to seek out the place of centring.  It found me.  Its a part of me now.  Symbolically, this is truly a good thing.  Because this morning, I will meet the person who has played a key role in the pain and grief I am gradually to let go of.  For the first time, I will meet a stranger who already is meaningful in my life journey, who has altered it in ways I never predicted.  Revisiting the music and stillness I gravitated to last summer has set me up with a sense of readiness for this encounter.  It will allow me to express myself in a manner that has a tone of forgiveness towards a human being and not the ugly monster I had conjured up in my head.   All the nasty accusations have disappeared from my internal conversations....... I'm ready to be human to another human.

Healing comes under different shawls of comfort.  Healing comes when stillness leads you to the internal light that shines on a place where tears are made.  Healing comes when you feel the breath of God in every breath you take, knowing you're not alone.  Healing comes when the hymns of life transform the energy from the outside zip to the inside stories unfolding.  It's soul work.  Not easy.  It was the hardest work I've ever done...pushing through all of those raging feelings, learning how to pray in my own manner.  But, now that I am capable of it, I'm free.  And lucky.

Ps. By the end of the day, I will have another copy of that CD! 

centering in prayer

And come forth from the cloud of unknowing
And kiss the cheek of the moon
Leonard Cohen, The Window

Lit candles on my dresser
Turned on angel choir music
Sat on bed.
Softening sanctuary
Inhaled wafting scents
colour and light flickering warmth
Closed my eyes
Opened my pores
Listened to the harmony filling the air around me.

Found stillness
Found stillness.
Stillness found me.
Comfort breaths.


Let go of visitors....
one thought after another
one feeling after another
one discomfort after another
sadness, loss, fear.....
set sail on rippling water

Rippling water.
Blue
Blue
Blue rippling water
tidal rhythm sounds like angels singing
comfort breaths of spirit essences
stillness journey
stillness journey
inside sacred breath
painted the colour of grace

Time moved in a cloud of unknowing
Deep breath awakening
until my eyes opened again
Found focus
Beyond the glowing candles 
Photos of my babies.
Blonde innocence
created by love.

Falling tears of gratitude set in light and angel voices.
I had been kissed on the cheek by the moon.


ps.  The photo was taken from the upstairs balcony of the place where I was staying in Tatamagouche.  Twilight, Friday evening.

give us this day.......

Have you ever stopped at the end of the day when nighttime chimes its call to slumber and asked... Why was I given this day?  Tonight, as I try to answer, my mind seeks out a beginning point only to find a series of other questions rolling out of the original one.... 

What seeds did I plant?

What seeds did I sow?

Who touched me with their presence, both in person and from afar? 

Whom did I touch? 

Learning....what did I learn? Was I able to pass on any of my knowledge?

If I could capture the essence of feelings that accompanied me today, what colour would they be?

Who did I remember?

What did I do and how did I feel while I was doing it?

From one seemingly simple question, a plush red carpet rolls out of my reflections revealing more to consider.  Each one offers a gift of a deeper look into the day I was given as a gift.   In prayer, we request from God,  "give us this day our daily bread...." sustenance to thrive on.  We request this.  Upon reflection we can assess how we utilized this gift of days we are given that make up our lives.   

Did I stop.........just once to look around me ..... to see the beauty of my surroundings?

Where did I find the beauty?

Did I stop ... just once to look around me ..... to see the woundedness in my surroundings?

What shocked my senses?

When did I laugh?  

Did I reveal frustration, anger, confusion or did I stuff it inside because no one wants to see those big time uglies.  

Did I allow someone else to express the uglies, to help them rid them? 

What did I create today? 

How did I stretch my imagination?

How did I challenge my sensibilities?

What made me uncomfortable? 

Who was with me in spirit helping to guide me at some point today?

Did loneliness come to visit?

Why was I given this day......?

Was I kind to someone?

Did I scatter more seeds than I sowed?

So many of our days, we push through the 24 hour cycle like our lives are situated on top of a treadmill, our pace the same, our steps the same in order to keep going, keep balanced.  Maybe we need sameness because our lives are just too startling and stressful at the moment.  Just to "get through" them is a feat.  Maybe we dread stopping for fear of being accosted by the stark realities burdening our hearts, weighing heavily on our shoulders.  Maybe we skip through a day with a madness of last minute shopping before Christmas and forget that its the joy of giving, the satisfaction of finding just the right gift for someone we love not the completion of the never ending list of "to do's" that matters.  Some days seem so lacking in any stimulation that you feel like you've lived it over and over again. 

I'm left wondering if perhaps these are the kinds of days when asking the question...... Why was I given this day ...... matters the most?

Ask the question, the treadmill stops.  Ask the question and the opportunity to nurture the startling stress with attention happens.  Ask the question and the burdens are acknowledged and greeted by awareness.   Ask the question and that omnipresent fear of being alone is filled with the real connections you made with others......... face to face, over the phone, through an email, on facebook, at the store, passing someone in the street, at work, in the classroom, out in the parking lot, in your mind's eye. 

Did you know that there are at least 3 people out in the big old world who not only thought of you, but love you too.  You may not get to see them every single day, but they are out there rooting for you!  Cheering you on!

Ask the question to God?  "Why was I given this day God?"   He's a good sounding board.  However, chances are like a good therapist (the ultimate therapy dude, really) God will reflect the question back for you to answer.  "You tell me.... Why did I give you this day,"  He asks...... and you're left figuring it out, with His supportive touch guiding you through the perplexities any opened ended question promotes. 

Before the darkness around you folds into your own internal quiet lights out, let your dreams evolve from the abundance of silent reflections.  Let your day flow into the refreshing slumber with your gaze be filtered by a sense of resolution. No matter how difficult or trying it was, it can be transformed from an ordinary day on a treadmill to one that actually mattered because of the gifts you gave and received yourself.  

I may never have all the answers I want by the time I'm sound asleep....... sometimes the questions keep me up way after my bedtime and that's alright.  What I do know is that if I take the time to ponder, even the most wretched day holds a few gems.  And if I know I have a handful of gems, it seems to make the struggles all the worthwhile.

So, tonight I ponder, and peak into the wildness of my broad question.......  "Why was I given this day?"  To fill with as much life as I could..........with as much colour as i could.  And I believe I accomplished just that.....

Now its time to dream........of you.  Why?  Because you are with me every day.... in my actions, in my feelings, in my imagination, and in my soul.  You.  And I thank you for sharing this bountiful life with me.  Little did you know, but you eased my suffering, added to my joy, challenged and stretched my abilities.  It was you and the connection I have with you that turned this ordinary day into a recognized bouquet of blessings.

 

cleansing tears, awakening gratitude

Smiling market friends, Boyce Farmer's Market

October, 2010

 

Yesterday as I sat in church, I was flooded by tears.  They flowed out of me from a geiser just under my skin.  They streamed out  leaving me a bit perplexed over the quantity and over the fact that they didn't come from a place of sorrow nor joy.  It seemed like I was an open vessel........vulnerably open to expressing what I was receiving.  It's difficult to find the words to articulate it, except perhaps my sensitivities were heightened to flood stage while my heart was filled with gratitude.   I wasn't expecting the intensity of those feelings bubbling up, but there was absolutely no way of stopping them.  I didn't try.  Safe under the majestic  ceiling pitch of the old church, surrounded by the walls which have absorbed many stories,  I let go of the controls.

Its a bit disconcerting to be a person who can let the tears flow so effusively whenever I am touched by a moment.  When the moment happens to be in public, well it adds another flavour to the experience.  Tears are misunderstood by an onlooker. Automatically, we tend to think that they represent pain from grief or mourning and that crying is always a weeping.  Rather, they can be a communitative cleansing, a decluttering of the accumulative aches as well as the softened relaxation of the body and soul awakening to something only the heart sees. 

The service was poignant.  It brought forward a chance to recognize the gifts we have all around us and to feel a sense of love and belonging especially when one is moving through a new passage in one's life.  Gratitude felt fills the caverns inside us with joy.  It pushes out the sadness.  It awakens us to possibilities.  It leaves us sensing our internal tributaries flowing in and out with kindness.  It was a awakening affirmation of giving and receiving thanks, of remembering, of recognizing life's joyful harvest.

I had my head down during most of the service listening while envisioning the myriad of blessings in my personal life. I tried on occasion to put a halt to the tears.  I was running out of kleenex!  I wanted to be able to focus with clarity on the music, the words, the scripture.  But, there was no way of stopping them. Clarity came from inside.  What was spoken at the service seeped in through my pores settling in the emptied places where the tears had once resided.  

At one point, right in the middle of the sermon, I lifted my head up and at the same moment the angle of the sunlight filtering through the beautiful stained glass windows high up above me reached the spot where I was sitting.  Front and centre.  The light warmed the top of my head as a welcome to look up. When I did,  it bathed my face with a glow that pulled me right into it's healing.  The light reflected through the coloured glass, left me with a gift of radiance I can only describe as grace.  I can't believe how timely it was and how the air thinned all around me.  I took several deep long breaths.  

I prayed.  I sat quietly listening to the congregation all around me recite the creed, letting their expressive words be mine.  I gave thanks over and over.... in silent thoughts to God who guides us through the perplexities of an awakened life.  Yesterday, the Sunday of Thanksgiving,  I let the tears flow, like a river......... cleansing away the perplexities, emptying those overflowing soulcups, leaving me with space for receiving the vitality of Grace.  

Found Blessings

Today, I stood up at the front of St. Paul's United church and delivered the Sunday service message.   As I stood up there, I felt grounded and centred, mostly due to the loving support of my friends and family, some of whom were there sitting in the pews smiling up at me throughout it all.  I absolutely LOVED looking up to the balcony and seeing my son looking down on me smiling.  He knows now that his Momma has her strength back.    My daughter left for summer camp yesterday so she wasn't there but I know she was thinking of me and I her. 

The whole process has been spiritually enhancing beyond my expectations.  It allowed me to travel beyond the line on my horizon to a place I have never visited.  I have "lived" outside of my comfort zone for over a week trying to "get it right......."  and it wasn't until 2 o'clock this morning when I found myself standing in my kitchen practising reading the last version I had just completed with enough energy to light up the street!  

I could write a whole blog post on the process... and how it was intertwined with a whole bunch of other "happenings" that have occured over the past two weeks.....work, home and play stuff.  What a TRIP!  Life has a way of pulling you back up onto your feet in the heat of adversity and kissing you with affirmation and love from the most interesting places.  It has been a week of good energy.  Good strong life affirming energy on all levels.  

I have so much I want to write about....... however that will wait........ for now I want to post my sermon to share.   

PS.......to everyone who has emailed me, checked on me, phoned me, and sent me their kind wishes and prayers....... thank you, thank you.  Know that you were all with me today.  I felt your presence strongly.  I really did.  I sure wasn't up there alone. 

____________________________________________

Found Blessings.

This morning, I would like to begin by reading a blessing written by John O'Donohue.   It's from his book, Bless the Space Between Us.  For the past couple of months I have read it aloud to myself every morning.  It has given me strength and focus to start a new day.  Today,  share it with you......

I arise today

Blessed by all things,

Wings of breath,

Delight of eyes,

Wonder of whisper,

Intimacy of touch

Eternity of soul, 

Urgency of thought

Miracle of health,

Embrace of God.

May I live this day

Compassionate of heart,

Clear in word, 

Gracious in awareness,

Courageous in thought, 

Generous in love.........

God’s abundance.  How do you define that?  It seems like such an easy concept to explain doesn’t it?  Personally, I found it was almost too big to harness. There are SO many paths one can journey on to seek out the meaning….. meandering paths of thought FULL ideas.  

As I prepared what I wanted to share with you today, I searched for it through many angles…from a theoretical perspective as well as one that was faith based ….. I looked at it through the lens of a Mom as well as the other roles I am in my life.  I looked at it through the eyes of a writer too.  And I have to admit, that the more I thought about it,  the more I wrote about Abundance.  Then I would lose myself in the harvesting of treasures AND would write MORE.   

It kind of overwhelmed me.  Which actually made me laugh because I found myself overwhelmed by abundance.  A little ironic don’t you think?   I probably have enough written down for a book!  Who knows?  Maybe I’m onto something.  

But that’s for another day.  Today, I humbly stand up here, as a human being who has been given the gift of spiritual learning through the process of reflection and contemplation, through many discussions with friends and family…..inside spiritually quiet times when I was able to see all of the “found blessings” that make my cup runneth over. Daily.  It’s been a beautifully challenging experience.  I feel richer for it.  

Throughout most of internal travels however, I was missing the key ingredient because I was being too fancy with my brain and it was making me too wordy. Too much thinking, the people in my life say …. I think too much. 

Yesterday, I took a trip to a place tucked into the woods near Norton.  Smith’s Falls.  It was beautiful.  The walk through the woods filled me with a sense of peace.  When I reached my destination…. At the bottom of this resplendent waterfalls, I sat down on a rock and looked up to the top of the gorge where the sun filtered through the pine and sparkling on the tumbling water rushing down the rocks in a formation of its own making. Automatically, I found my breath.  I slowed down, mind and body and let abundance find me.  In a matter of moments….. connected to nature and God’s beauty…..

I realized that….

Abundance is the collection of bountiful feelings we experience when connecting with nature and with others in a way that provides us with the nutritious gift of grace.

It’s about learning how to open your senses to a new awareness that no matter what may be happening in your life, or what you are observing God provides these gifts as blessings.  Bread for the journey is bountiful.  It is up to us to share the fullness of our hearts.  

It’s about recognizing all that we have to give and receive is more than enough and then some!  Just like the story of the fishes and the loaves.  There were twelve full baskets left over!  We have much to give……and then some.  

Jean Vanier, who lives his values and beliefs every day through the L’Arche community where he resides, wrote an amazing thought provoking book called Becoming Human…… In it he explains….  "When we tell stories, we touch hearts. If we talk about theories and speak about ideas, the mind may assimilate them but the heart remains untouched. It is the story of a specific person that is the way to the heart."  I firmly believe he’s onto something!   This is the gift of abundance.

Heart stories……. Connecting….. feeling loved, significant, humbled, affirmed, forgiven, listened to…….. Think about how you feel when someone really and truly listens to you…. From their heart.  Is that not abundance?  Think about how you feel when you are able to put aside all the busy demands, the list of TO DO’s….. when You are able to give your full attention to someone in need…… to listen.  From your heart. What a learning gift.  A simple human gift, which opens our eyes to the faces of God.  

As a counsellor and facilitator, I have been blessed with the opportunity to connect with many hearts.  I’m a storykeeper.  As a person who loves to write and to interact with others, I am a storyteller.  Both sides of the coin.  I can’t tell you how many times I have met with someone in their home, in my office, in the hospital, in a coffee shop and was left feeling enriched beyond words.  As a human being, I too have been blessed with many people in my life who listen to my stories too, and the same feeling abounds.  We share.  We tune into abundance and we are changed forever.  

Not long ago, I had the privilege of sitting in a hospital room with a young man who was dying of Crohn's disease. I was shocked at how skeletal he was.... how unbelievably sick he had been since I had first met him a few years back. His energy was very low. His lips parched and dry because he was receiving all his nutrients and food through a tube in his stomach. He was too weak to digest it any other way. In the hospital for 4 months at the time of our meeting, he had suffered through 3 painful surgeries and admitted that he didn't know if he had the strength to go through another..... another had been scheduled.

At first, I didn't know if he could physically handle my visit, but I was there to help him get some extra money by applying for a disability pension.  He needed the money and greeted me with as much energy as he could conjure up.

This man was a preacher.   Before he fell too ill, he’d led a parish church in a rural area in Northern New Brunswick.  Despite the constant pain and ill health,  his faith was still very much intact.

He spoke of the kindness of the hospital staff......how they arranged for a private room for him even though he didn't necessarily qualify. He lit up when he talked about his best friend, who had been visiting when I arrived and praying quietly with him....how they had studied together to be preachers....how they used to go fishing together. He talked about how blessed he was to have three children and how heartbreaking it was for him to realize that he probably wouldn’t  be around to see them grow up to be adults. He pointed out the flowers that arrived in the middle of a snowstorm the day before (a little miracle he called it.) He smiled broadly. 

He then lamented on how much he missed the ulimate freedom of going for a drive into the country all by himself. And as he reflected....as this man with such poor health, and with no money reflected....he told me how rich he was in so many ways.

2 hours later, I left his hospital room far richer too than I had been when I arrived. I left with the sound of rural parish church bell ringing inside.  A heart connection. They never fade. 

Father Henri Nouwen who also lived in a L’Arche Community wrote about the diversity of people comparing us to mosaic stones. Each one of us is represented by a tiny piece of colour, beautiful on its own, but much more revealing of the face of God when seen as a design together. 

Our community lives and breathes suffering and struggle. It lives and breathes love and compassion. It displays the faces of humanity, shaded by the lined scars of adversity....and a longing for connection and validation between human beings.  Community, he writes, is "where humility and glory touch." And to me, that is where prosperity dwells. You see it abundantly in the welfare office where I worked for many years. Out in the margins I saw, heard, felt and was deeply moved by humility and glory touching.  

A couple of summers ago, I was inspired to write a story poem about a scene I witnessed  in the alley by the Community Kitchen as I sat in my car.   I was the only one who saw it unfold.  I listened with my EYES and I knew in an instant I was richer for the experience.  

A scene from an alley 

Under puddle grey skies they emerge,

in large numbers

filing out through the heavy metal door

lighting up in unison --

An after dinner toke on a full stomach.

The best tasting cigarette of the day

besides the first one with morning coffee.

But sometimes there's no sweet aromatic coffee.

It's made from grains of yesterday

Bitter tar-like substance from the bottom of an urn.  

Sometimes morning begins

starring at the underbelly of a bridge

in backbreaking pain,

where no coffee is brewing

where the only smoke is a discarded butt. 

Sometimes morning begins in

a sock stinking room shared by 10 damp strangers

Shivering under an unknown blanket,

worn and used by others prickly and unwelcoming transience.

Coffee there is weakly tepid

Served in a stained unfamiliar mug. 

At first glance, I see

Weather worn faces seemingly the same

Dazed, angry, bone weary aged.

Empty discards in oversized pants from Sally Ann

in threadbare shirts, wrinkled from sleep

tattered, torn faded colour 

Surrendered souls

Who have seen the bottom of a bottle of cheap whiskey many times

Who have felt the biting winter winds many times

and know it feels the same as the hard slap from the back of a hand.

They've felt them both and know they are the same. 

Strangers lost in a fog of mental illness, no luck, abuse and a lifelong hangover.

Numbed on the bare boned skinned knee open wound existence. 

But tonight,
as they emerge and converge for an after dinner smoke
Gathering in an puddle filled alley
hidden by a brick building,
where the shelter and the kitchen
make it a meaningful destination,

I look again and see some familiar faces.

People who have visited me in my office.

Human beings I have seen around town.

The man with the marionette monkey

who makes it dance for money every Saturday at the market.

The woman who collects bottles and cans from the dumpster behind my office building

The mom and her two kids whom I've shared a coffee chat with in her home.

The guy who sleeps on the bench in the park downtown

A few whose names I don't know,

but have seen in the lobby of the welfare office

.Many I don't recognize.

Many are lost in a schizophrenic fog.

Some gather together to talk, while others stay within themselves

lost in the periphery of the marginalized.

Marginalized by the marginalized.

Our society breathes hierarchy like dragon's breath
 

One small statured man walks gingerly and awkward

trying to pretend he isn't completely drunk

Another with a shaved head whose eyes dart in paranoia paces.

And another, and another............same look.......same space....
 

Sober --stark, real, cold, wet reality. Who wants sober? 

I change the lens I am using in a blink

I change my gaze and what do I see… 

Right in the middle of this ragamuffin group?

Is a little boy

about 4 years old

with a red ballcap

and red crocs on his feet

glides by on his scooter.

Whoosh............his colourful presence

captivates.

Like a taste of watermelon on a hot day. 

In and out he sails,

splashing through the grey sky puddles

twisting and turning his scooter

past the sad adult faces too hurt to pay attention

Oblivious to his joy

He oblivious (maybe) to their sorrow.
 

The scooter skids and the little boy yelps.

All eyes turn to him.

His mother, incapacitated by a full leg cast lurches forward

Her maternal response stymied by immobility.

Her face shows concern.  Love.  Fear. Her boy needs her. 

Out of the blue…….

A found blessing friendly face intervenes.

He tends to the little boy,

then with a twinkle of dare, he playfully takes the scooter

and turns the scene into a circus romp. 

He's a smiling clown makes the little boy laugh from his belly

His scraped knee forgotton as he watches this man balance on a wee scooter…

Those worn out adults on the sidelines, thirsty for relief begin to cheer on the clown.

Set in the midst of grey puddle despair

A community of smiles grin the grace of abundance.
 

It left me wondering if Jesus was close by taking it all in.

I think He was.

He always is, isn’t he? 

Out in the margins, where true prosperity dwells,

Where humility and glory touch?

Jesus is there taking it all in.

 

The Bible says, “For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.”   This includes both sides of the coin……. having the chance to spill out a slice of your story to someone who is listening with their whole being and being the receiver of a human story as you listen with your whole being.  Human stories.  Heart connections.  As the extension of God’s love, we have it to give and then some.  And when we do, our whole community prospers.  

This week, I hope you have a chance to see abundance from a new angle…. And to feel the fullness of its discovery.  May you listen and be listened to as you share a slice of your stories.  From the heart, where treasures dwells.  May you find the blessing of discovery gazing into the eyes of another face of God in your life.  

Prayer for the Times..

I was asked to write and to lead the congregation in "Prayer for the Times" today at St. Paul's United Church.  It is part of the weekly service.  My dear friend Andrea organized the whole service and delivered the sermon.  She did a beautiful job.  I'm so proud of her.....  she has been my angel this spring. 

The feeling of standing up at the front of the church was humbling and empowering at the same time.  I could hear my own voice and it felt strong.  Strong.  I think my voice is back.  It has a different timbre to it.... perhaps its all that whiskey i've been consuming?  Kidding!   

It was a very special moment and I'm grateful to have been asked to play a role.

Here is my prayer.... the words and thoughts are a culmination of what I have been thinking and writing about recently.   I'm posting it for my loving friend Rick.  When I got home from church, there was a message that his Mom had passed away last night.  Rick and Sheila?  I love you both...... and wish I could be there to help you with ALL that you are feeling.   And know we are just a finger tip touch away from one another.  xx

_______________________________________

Let us take a moment to be still together and take in a collective deep breath............

Hello dear God.

As we stand here before You with refreshed breath of Your Spirit, we give our heartfelt thanks for the gifts you provide every single day... those simple extraordinary offerings we sometimes miss in the flurry busyness of our lives.  Today, we stand in stillness reflecting upon our own lessons knowing that, like renewal, growth is conceived in the heart of discontent, fed by the inner light of silent conversations with you God, until it breaks through the clay of our blended souls.  

We share the same feelings, and many of us share the same happiness and heartbreak.  This is what blends our souls in a spiritual sense of oneness.  We all know the feeling of hungry hope.  You have provided us with this gift, God.  Hope, you have taught us, is a companion of a broken spirit.  It is the oxygen in the breeze that caresses our restless sufferings with tenderness.  Hope reminds renewal to be patient with its re-emerging and to know that most of our personal growth will be invisible to the outward glance, but colourfully recognizable when we gaze inwardly to speak to You. 

Through suffering God, we are learning to surrender.  Through surrendering, we are learning how connected we are to a greater Realm. And it is through our connection with you and with one another, we begin to feel loved in a much different way than perhaps we have ever felt before. 

Forgive us dear God, for we are often slow to catch on because we tend to veer out into the wild and lose our way busy trying to deal with the events life throws at us.  Please help us remember that what may feel overwhelming shifts our gaze and offers us a glimpse of a field of diamonds off in the distance..... those tantalizing sparkling gems with winking twinkling c'mons that have the power to awaken our hunger for enlightenment, and to tickle our parched thirsts for a drop of understanding.

Please remind us God that renewal doesn't occur because of one event.  It may be the spark that ignites the change in direction, but it is not the conclusion.  Rather, it is the impetus set in the clay of our blended souls..... the foundation we rely on for support as we ride the waves of change, one wave at a time.

Please remind us God that renewal in all of its diamond splendour is simply our crooked journey signmarked by our recognition of love dressed in complicated life riddles.  Eventually it leads us to a place we can call home.  We must walk unprotected, barefooted..... pierced by the nettles and thorns of suffering that scracth and sting....... that leave pockmarked scars on our flesh.  

With your Guidance God, we will learn to walk aided and unaided........ to take risks while learning as much from our hurts as we do our triumphs, while reaching out to give while being open to receiving gifts we are offered.  By so doing, we learn that the clay of blended souls we walk upon?  We are a part of that clay.  We belong to a universe who shares the same feelings, who thrive and survive, who suffer and feel joy, who nurture and are nurtured by one another.

Renewal may be conceived inside the heart of discontent, but the light of its darkness seems to shed Your rays on our gardens, inside our homes, waiting to be discovered.  As pilgrims dear God, guide us when we are too surprised by the answers to those life riddles.  Teach us that this is where awareness resides.  This is where growth lives.  This is where we come together to feel peace.  

May we all walk in peace with you and with one another today.  The first day of summer is almost here.

Amen.