Rainy Days and Tuesdays

Rainy days and Tuesdays always get me ... well? Not down (like Mondays - heh). But maybe introspective and cozy.

I've been thinking about thinking. Thinking about spirit, soul and body, and how thoughts operate in each realm. This is just musing from a perspective of what I've learned so far (but truly feel like I know so little), so it isn't meant to be an authoritative voice. I'm just sorting things out for my own sake and happened to see a photo that illustrated it and thus I'm sharing!

SPIRIT and THOUGHT: I believe our spirits hear from God's Spirit and reflect to us the things of the spirit world and truth. When guidance or knowledge or wisdom break through, I see that as a function of our spirit man ... thinking like God thinks, learning the ways of God, making what we meditate on in God's Word real in our lives. The challenge? Quieting the rest of the influences enough to hear that still, small voice.

John 14:26 (NIV) 

But the Advocate, the Holy Spirit, 

whom the Father will send in my name, 

will teach you all things 

and will remind you of everything I have said to you.

SOUL and THOUGHT: Mind, will and emotion are at play here. This is where things get filtered, interpreted, tinted and maybe even generated based on what we think, desire and feel. I think it is a dangerous place where what we see and perceive (two different things) seem to feed information to us that can be entirely opposite of truth. The challenge here? Harnessing the mind and training it to think on the things that are good, true, right, etc.

Romans 12:2 (NIV) 

Do not conform to the pattern of this world, 

but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. 

Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is--

his good, pleasing and perfect will.

BODY and THOUGHT: My recent fascination with neuroscience has brought some interesting possibilities. Some theories state that by the time a thought becomes what we would call our own thought in the conscious mind, it has already been decided in the brain before we are aware. In that sense, the "machine" of the mind feeds us thought as if it were our own. But the interesting point is that all the neural connections and learning and direction comes from the past ... everything already experienced. And it goes beyond past experience. Nutrition, medication, etc. all play a role in how the physical brain functions. I find it very interesting that many cases of mental health have been "solved" by changing diets.

Add another interesting element ... it seems that our science is advancing to the point where it can show that our thoughts bring things to pass. And those who can focus their thoughts are the happiest of them all. To me, that simply explodes all over the Bible! It's hard to limit my thoughts to just one verse!

The challenges in this area? To treat the body as God's temple (because it is), retrain the mind according to God's future instead of our past, and learn to focus on what will bring us into the best future.

Ephesians 4:22-24 (NIV)
You were taught, with regard to your former way of life,
to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires;
to be made new in the attitude of your minds;
and to put on the new self,
created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness.

Philippians 4:8 (NIV) 

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, 

whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--

if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things.

1 Timothy 4:14a,15 (International Standard Version)

Do not neglect the gift that is in you ... Think on these things. 

Devote your life to them so that everyone can see your progress.

Love to Give

Love - it’s what she longed for.
not just to get
but to give ...

... give passion that knew
no bounds within the sphere
of her heart’s true love.

... give joy that overflowed
from the quiet places
to the open spaces.

... give peace that anchored
the souls of those she adored
deeply and securely.

Quiet

Candles. Music that brings my heart to God. The silence in my soul was starting to feel cold and lost ... maybe my quiet moment will fill the silence with some peace that will gently soothe and prepare me for the road ahead.

Walk With Me

The words "walk with me" have started tracing a path in my heart. I looked for something in scripture to capture the moment and found Matthew 11:28-30 from The Message Bible.

Matthew 11:28-30
“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”

WALK WITH ME ...
It is such a simple invitation, yet so full of wonder and hope. It's almost profound.
WALK WITH ME ...
To where? I don't know yet. But I know I'm not walking alone.
WALK WITH ME ...
That "unforced rhythm of grace" sounds so beautiful.
WALK WITH ME ...
Do I trust enough to take that first step? And then another? 

I do.

Context

A beautiful tree was evolving on the concrete bridge ... an unexpected surprise as I went to take photos of the band playing in the park.  I love the moments that capture creation.  I love seeing a soul express art.  When I looked at my photos, I realized that my perception may have been very different if I saw this man in another setting - even if he happened to step away from his artwork and went to another area of the park to enjoy the music.  The blackened feet and hands alone may have been enough for me to think he was filthy and probably homeless! Oh what we miss when we take things out of context.  Oh what injustice we ascribe with our assumptions.

Shattered

I love how when I was in England, people used the word "shattered" to describe being exhausted. Such a descriptive word!

Today, I am shattered ... but not without hope.  I don't think I've ever had more happen in 24 hours EVER in my life.  (Well, a couple things come close in extremes - but nothing in sheer amount combined with extremes!)  I have to admit it makes me reach back into the ministry days and think that I must be doing something right to have this much chaos erupt.  I don't know if that's solid thinking any more - I'd have to go study again - and right now, I'm too shattered.

I remember my grandmother's poem ... One Shattered Splinter.  In the poem, she receives a gift from God (a crystal cup?) and because it wasn't what she wanted or expected, throws it down into shattered splinters.  After realizing what she had done, she picked up a splinter and began to write. I'll have to find that and post it.

Photo from Havering Park in the Secret Garden with Imogen Heap, Clear Village and the Garden Angels.

Heartstrings

My mind goes back to the "heartstrings" display at Living Arts in Tulsa.  I wish I had a full view photo that did it justice!  A series of suspended frames held these "heartstrings" where motion was initiated by tweets containing either "heart" or "love" (I can't remember which) where a brief opening appeared and then closed again.

I look over my life and see these myself responding to life as it unfolds ... sometimes subject to the whims around me, briefly opening and closing to the opportunities that come my way.  I probably shouldn't look back too much.  I wonder about the "what if" too much.

When my heartstrings are touched, I usually cry.  Good, bad, inspiring, significant ... my heart is moved and tears come.  And I do love that.  But I wish I could just make sure it is all orchestrated well!  Things move both slower and faster than I would like.  I am at once impatient and dragging my feet!

I wonder if my role right now is just to yield to life, to open my heart, to breathe in the beauty around me.  Moment by moment I can.

Glances

I glance her way and get a glimpse of dimensional time.  I absorb a present moment different than I've known before.  I see a flash of her future and a flashback of my past.  I see her beauty and wonder how I missed the  the time that turned her into a young woman.

Winds 'n Roses

(Oops! I edited and published something quite old and thought it would retain the original date. Oh well!)

Exhausted, I lie here sleepless, listening to the wind. My thoughts drift and swirl like the sounds dancing outside my window.  They say a storm is coming. Knowing this makes the wind sound different. I listen a little closer. I hear a threat and a howl. I wonder what will happen ... if we will be prepared, protected.

But as I contemplate, I remember that wind is what one waits for when wanting to fly a kite. I remember that wind carries seeds to perpetuate new growth. I remember that sails were meant to catch the wind and propel a vessel.

So I wonder in a metaphor of life ... what am I holding to the wind? I realize that I feel fragile. What I hold is more like a flower than something destined for flight. I think maybe I have wrapped my wings around myself and they have become soft like petals. I imagine myself as a flower in the wind.  And I worry that the delicate layers will be quickly stripped and my hopes now folded and soft will have been dashed.

I write and let the wondering thoughts wash over me ... Silly me. I know that just as it would make no sense to display a boquet in a windstorm, it also makes no sense to try and fly a kite indoors. Both will result in some kind of destruction! There's a time and place for everything.

Nurture the fragile. Launch the bold.

Turning Entanglement To Art

Sometimes life is bland and flat ... other times it's a tangled mess ... it can be a party ... or it can be the residue from others that is left for me to clean up.  It can look like nothing or an intricate maze.  What makes life beautiful? Perspective.

Maybe my life is all tangled.
Maybe the bright splashes are to be celebrated instead of figured out.
Maybe daily life is a slab of ordinary underneath everything.
But it could be that if I look closer, maybe it's art.

I'm considering adopting a new motto:  Never untangle ... find the beauty.

Flowers to Flowers and Dust to Dusk

This is how my day started (in Lewes) and ended (in London) ... with a whole bunch of things in between!

Really, I wanted to write a poem, but can't seem to get the gears started.  I keep thinking about a phrase Imogen Heap used when talking about the song she is working on in conjunction with the garden project:

The piece I want to write is from the voice of the Walled Garden itself. A spoken word piece or perhaps a kind of collective voice for neglected spaces and abandoned man made structures. Being in the garden, I hear it almost sigh in relief with the news of this fresh enthusiasm. As if it's been calling out to anyone who might catch it from dust, to fall in love with it again. As those of you involved breathe a new life into the garden, community and beyond, it becomes clearer to me what it's been missing all these years and between spurts of getting my hands dirty, I'll be penning these thoughts.

And truly, the "dust" moment with the gravestone pictured above was part of a much bigger moment that I need to share ... but I'll need to revisit it and get more coherent thoughts on it.

Lingering lunches.
Random wafts of conversation.
Streams of light in an English tea room.
Fresh air and motorists.
These little moments may seem pedestrian but that's the beauty of it to me.
Today I will discover a bit more of what it is like to simply "be" in Gidea Park (Romford).

I wish you were here.
There's a low rumble of the organ;
The hum of tourists off in the distance.
Here, I am nestled in a corner of the prayer chapel at St. Paul's Cathedral ...
Feeling the cold stone pillar on one side
And warm wood to the other,
I'm cushioned in a respectful silence.
It is peaceful here.

Abandoned Spaces ... KEEP OUT

I woke this morning thinking about the different direction Imogen's song has taken (spoken word, garden perspective personified, gathering into anger) with an overwhelming realization ... that's what happened to me!

Imagining a personified garden being confused when people dwindled, frustrated by its own efforts going nowhere, wondering why all the good things it once knew were so far away, not able to see the "keep out" signs someone else placed on its walls ... I saw the same struggle in myself with the "married years" (and even still struggling deeply with some of the effects).

Tears came then.

Noticings

We were challenged in one “circle time” (when the group gathers in a circle to learn and discuss) to recall something we noticed … but not just on the surface.  Noticing to the point of thinking or studying or delving into some aspect of it deeper.

I didn’t share with the group at the time because the conversations seemed to spiral into plans of the day … but what I was thinking about was the patterns in nature.  Just earlier, I was contemplating the balanced growth of the trees we were clearing and cleaning with branches sprouting opposite in one way and then the next pair up at 90 degrees. As I sat there, I thought about the thin-leafed swirls in a flowering plant, the thorns on some of the vines, the buds of the berries, the patterns of leaves, even the interesting elements of the weeds we pulled … all different, all very patterned, and all with specific purposes. 

It made me wonder if we could learn from them.  What makes the tree strong?  Could it be applied to life principles?  How about the need for protection?  What do the swirls do?  Are some things in existence simply for the joy of aesthetics? I’m sure all is valid … but I have a sneaking suspicion that if we could know every reason for every element, there would be a purpose to it that goes beyond beauty.

But before my thoughts ramble too long, I should also try and remember a few other “noticings.” One was a personal shift today.  Until this afternoon, I felt a little like I didn’t have much to offer other than my help (not that it isn’t significant, but I’m not an expert in permaculture, etc.).  Then, this afternoon as we split up into design teams to generate some ideas for the structure to protect the garden plantings, I started to have ideas.

IDEAS! It felt good to have ideas – ones that were not in context of job or family or personal goals.  Every team was strong and had good ideas.  But contributing to a design team that ended up receiving the most stones (votes) was truly exciting.  HOWEVER – I don’t say that in a way to make it sound like we did anything extra special.  Truly, some designs were so similar that they could have been easily merged.  And each design has great strengths that we may find to be more relevant as the actual project starts.  BUT – coming from a relatively dry place (or so it seems to me sometimes), I felt a little like those who dream again.  I started to feel alive!  IDEAS! Good ideas. They make me smile.

But before I wrap it up completely, there’s one other significant “noticing” that plays into the picture.  As we worked in the days and hours before, it was quite an unusual feeling to be away from normal life (i.e. rushing from one thing to the next, in front of computers, in meetings, in cars, always over capacity).  Even the sound of spades and forks and rakes in the dirt was like meditation.  Birds calling in the forests, male deer calling in the fields, branches and stems brushing together, footsteps in the dirt … all brought an organic peace that quietly seemed to reassure my soul without me even knowing it.  It’s a lovely feeling.

Vessels

Alan meditating (I assumed) on site.

While the day was huge … my first work day, meeting (and kissing) the English and those from many other counties, sitting by Imogen, and just being around so many life-giving people … the overriding thought of the day was that of being vessels.

Alan, a practicing Buddhist from the San Francisco Bay area, was sharing about how he viewed relationships as being vessels for one another … and in one context, vessels that could hold the hurt and help the other heal.  In one case, a friend shared something that was too much for him to hold, and what made an impression upon me is that he recognized it, communicated that capacity to her, and was able to gracefully support her within clear boundaries.

Maybe that sounds like a bunch of words, but for me it’s quite significant.  I’ve had a challenge with boundaries.  And people close to me have challenges as well (some with running over boundaries and others with over extending their own).

I like thinking of boundaries as vessels, actually.  There’s a capacity, a limit, a boundary within a vessel.  It’s clear how much a vessel can hold.  It’s usually not clear to me how much I can hold.  I feel like I never do enough.  Others say I do too much.  And when I do recognize that I am overwhelmed, I feel guilty.  I think I’m going to challenge myself to carve out my vessel.  But not just to know it well, I want to know its purpose.  I want those kinds of limits that promote a healthy perspective that feeds my own spirit, soul and body as well.  One that isn’t overwhelmed, one that can give, one that can hold, and one that can heal.

How To Dream Again

Karsten holds the "pub spoon" (not sure
what it's really called - but it's what you
get when you place your order for food
up at the bar and then they come find
the spoon at the table when your
food is ready).

Tonight I met my first friends from the Garden Angels team after I got to the hotel and joined them for supper (my first English Pub – The Ship).  There were four countries around the table: Sovakia (Andrea), England (Karsten - via Germany), Scotland (Colin) and the USA (Alan - California and, of course, Me - Oklahoma).

Karsten works for Clear Village and is the project manager of the whole garden project.  I was asking about the work they do, and the answers I received started making me think!

What do you do when you go into a place that has lost hope?  Help its people dream again.

What is the key? Trust. 

When they still can’t dream, what do you do?  Have them share their stories … memories about neighbors, children, their own childhood, relatives, etc.  And as I listened to him describe how it has worked, it seems that through the very simple action of sharing stories their dreams were jump started again.

Trust … Dream … Stories … Dreams.  I see the connections.  And I know there is much more to glean when I have time to dig beneath the surface and meditate on some of these things.  But I see the power of these two things:  Stories and Trust. 

It makes me want two things:  1) to experience this for myself; and 2) to bring this to others.  Of course, I see it so easily in light of Girl Scouts.  As we move forward, it’s almost as a sluggish giant that has forgotten how to dream.  But when we hear those stories about Girl Scouting, we are revived.  We dream again.  And trust? WOW. It’s huge.  And after years of constant change (even in my short time on staff), I can see how the trust factor is essential to dreams being unleashed once again. 

Simple. Powerful.

Stories + Trust = Dreams

Venetian Prisons

Decadent Glory
Crumbling Beauty
Cascading History
Decaying Grandeur

I feel this sometimes. Tonight I cannot sleep and feel more of the restraints than I care to admit.  I crave change, yet I feel powerless.

Bits of Light

Today marks a point in time where I'm going to set out to make things right ... one little bit at a time.  Certainly God has been good to me in my circumstances, but I'm pretty sure I'm just sliding along on His grace.  My postponed hopes often flicker and fade just out of reach.  But I'm going to try and make more decisions in the present ... things based on now ... things I can actually change or do.  Maybe it will illuminate the myriad of possibilities I know are there.

The Beauty of Balance

There is symmetry and beauty in many things. While the play of intricate detail all balanced one with another is remarkable ... I'm also discovering it's largely decorative.  BALANCE.  It always seems so exact.

So I'm thinking about balance in life, which is everything but exact or equal!  Balance is something I hear will save my work-a-holic soul, but I just can't figure out how to get there.  Until yesterday, my vision was one of the scale with two arms that balances everything equally.  I am not a rigid or even a very disciplined person, though I do have a desire for equality.  But I could drive myself mad in trying to achieve it.

Yesterday I was thinking about a number of things ... I started imagining the circus performer who balances a myriad of objects while on top of something ridiculous - like a unicicle or a ball - and it takes a great deal of constant motion to keep everything from toppling.  Now that's more like life.

Then I imagined the ecosystems of nature, how they maintain their own balance ... but it doesn't mean exact or equal, either.  There are seasons. There are storms. And yet, there is somehow a harmonious balance that exists and sustains the life within.

So my new thought is that there can be a great elastisicity to true balance.  This is my new picture of balance, and it's one I might be able to embrace!