Diligent Joy Blog

Intentional Insight

Gray, rainy, November morning.  I took heed of the insights gained at the yoga retreat this weekend and spent some quiet time this morning, before coffee.  My friend Suzy says that's when the veil between the conscious and subconscious is thin, allowing us to get some new messages into the perpetual tapes that run in our brains.  (Ok, I added the part about the coffee.  She's a tea person, all the way).

I lovingly scooped up the dog to put him in his dreaded harness with the scary leash to go on a walk. He loves walks--he just really resists the harness and leash.  We went up "the big hill" today.  At the top, there is a lovely view of Puget Sound and even downtown Seattle, 20 miles off into the distance. 

"Ahhh," I thought.  "This is good. We need both."  We need to have a vision off into the distance of our lives, and also to handle what is right in front of us.  Both need attention.  If we only pay attention to what is off in the future, we lose the present moment.  And if we only handle what is right in front of us, we run the risk of burning out and feeling apathetic because we've lost our vision. Or worse, we might not even go on the walk because of the scary, dreaded leash.

Faith and action, together.  That's the key to balance.  But it starts with being quiet enough, and taking time enough to even be able to think like that and notice what's going on in your brain, your intentions, your life.

So, my tip today, on linked in, and facebook, and here, is this:  spend a few quiet moments and discern your intention for today.  Then for this month.  Then for this year.  Then go have your coffee (or tea) and get on with your day.

Namaste.

Gray Area

I was driving to the store tonight to get a few things we needed, and heard about the shooting at the military base in Texas, allegedly perpetrated by an army mental health specialist who's deployment was imminent.  I didn't even know where to put all the incongruous pieces of information to fit in my brain.  Army psychiatrist/mental health specialist.  Suspect. Shooting. 12 dead. Army base. Friendly fire.....

I got to the store, picked up my few items, and was staring at the endless array of wine wondering which would go best with Grey's Anatomy.  I struck up a conversation with the man next to  me, who appeared to be equally perplexed in making a choice.  "You just gotta pick one," he said.  "Actually," I replied, "I'm looking for a blend I like."  "Oh," he said, "what's it called?"  I took a breath and replied, "Menage a Trois."  Awkward laughter.  "I saw that.  It's right over here,"' he said.  I thanked him, got my bottle, and self-checked out with my reusable bag.

On the way home, there was a piece on the radio with a montage of voices with opinions about the Afghan War.  The Afghan War. The phrase struck me.  "Geesh!" I thought.  "How did it get to the place where my country is in two wars?" 

Listening to the people's words, which varied from "Bring 'em all home" to "Get more troops in there and get the job done," I was struck by how complicated the situation is.  Just read Kite Runner or A Thousand Splendid Suns.  Is it our moral responsibility to help the people of Afghanistan?  Probably.  Do they want our help?  Depends on if they are Taliban or not.  I'm sure many Afghans want nothing to do with Americans, and can you blame them?  I mean, really?  Perhaps they would think it just that one of our own military psychiatrists would kill our own troops.  There's simply no easy answer.

Still, I wonder what it would take for us all to have compassion for each other.  I believe that there have been horrendous mistakes that no amount of military intervention or community rebuilding will eradicate.  Nothing we can do will make it all better.  Often, that is the case in life. 

Instead of trying to fix things, or giving up, I believe we need compassion.  Compassion for those whose lives have been ruined, both in Afghanistan and in our own country.  Compassion for those who believe violence is their only refuge, and compassion for those who want peace at any cost.  Compassion for the leaders in Afghanistan and the United States and the United Nations and the countries who don't want to be involved.  

Most of us don't have access to the powers in charge of the wars--so we need to practice compassion with those close to us.  Those local leaders who make decisions we agree with, and those who don't.  Those relatives we get along with, and those who drive us just a little bit nuts.  Those drivers who let us in, and those who flip us off.  Compassion.  It's not excusing behavior; it's practicing the quality of what flows out of our hearts, and minds, and mouths into the world. 

Anger and bitterness leave nasty tastes behind, like a wine who's blend has soured.  Compassion is a smoother blend--understanding, tolerance, and love mixed together in the broadest sense of acceptance.  We don't have to love everything that happens, but it will do our souls good to love the souls who share our planet.

Protect Who?

I am offended by the yard signs that have popped up in the last few days on the roadside in my neighborhood.  Urging people to reject Referendum 71 in our state is one thing, but with "Protect Marriage!  Protect Children!" as their tag line?  I don't think so.

First of all, the Referendum protects the rights the Washington legislature approved, which are commonly called the "Everything but marriage" provisions.  Domestic partnership is what is legal in Washington.  This provides protection for not only gay and lesbian couples, but also seniors in committed relationships who choose not to marry.

Protect marriage from what?  Those of us heterosexual couples who have the right to marry, since we do such a bang up job of it?  Current statistics put the divorce rate at between 45% and 49% of new marriages, depending on the source.  And since this law doesn't even have to do with marriage, this is a moot--well, actually, a very misrepresented point.

Protect children from what?  Parents in a committed relationship?    We need more of that, not less.  Being allowed to marry offers no guarantee that a couple will parent well.  Child abuse rates attest to that. Simply providing biological material to create a human being unfortunately carries with it no mandatory knowledge, wisdom, or commitment in caring for that being during or after pregnancy.  

What kind of protection is provided when a partner is forbidden from visiting a loved one dying in the hospital?  Whom does that protect? 

The question on the table is who is going to legislate what we believe?  Should the state deny rights to people simply because of their sexual orientation or living arrangements?  We need to approve Referendum 71 so we can protect people from the real issues on the table:  bigotry and hate.  I do agree with the opponents on one thing:  they are encouraging people to pray for Washington State.  Please do.  Let's join the folks in DC and elsewhere and Stand on the Side of Love, not hate and fear.  Contrary to what many on the dark side would lead you to believe, many Christians and Christian churches stand solidly on the side of equal rights for sexual minorities.

But you don't have to take my word for it.  Listen to Stephen Colbert.  Our state's fight made his national show last week.  Yes people, pray.  Pray hard for the people of Washington State.

http://www.colbertnation.com/the-colbert-report-videos/252735/october-26-2009/the-word---don-t-ask-don-t-tell

Honor Society

Last night, my youngest son was inducted into National Honor Society at his school.  There was the usual grumbling about going--not sure what "dressed up" meant on the invitation, are others really going to be there, etc. Busy schedules and multiple conflicts aside, we went--my son, his dad, and I.

We arrived to find the principal gesturing us to where there were still a few open seats in a packed chapel.  Since he attends a Jesuit high school, the ceremony began with a prayer, thanking God for the gifts of scholarship and asking for help in using them well.  I love this about the school--that there is a thoughtful prayer shared for the occasion.  I know that this is not appropriate in all schools, as this type of prayer is particular to one faith.  However, since it is my faith (Christianity, not Catholicism...) and the school we all chose, it soothes me as a parent to hear words about God when we gather.

Another aspect I admired about how this achievement was honored was the perspective that the speaker shared.  Essentially, she said, "We know you're able to get good grades--you've shown that.  Now what are you going to do?  How are you going to share that talent, that gift with others so that everyone is lifted up?"  Service is a requirement of National Honor Society at this school.  Students must commit to several hours of tutoring others in need each year.  It's not a huge commitment, but it is there, and it is integrity with what they espouse, which I admire and support.

Afterward, there were cookies and soft drinks.  I mean, you deserve a cookie if you get into National Honor Society, right?  We mingled with other parents, whom we have seen at other events--scouts and band and swim team and graduations of older siblings.  Some looked a little more ragged than others--we have crossed into the time in our lives when many are dealing with difficult decisions about parents with dementia or Alzheimer's or "confusion."  But my thoughts turned to the kids who weren't there.

I wished that every child could be acknowledged in such an honoring way for their gifts and talents.  I wished that every school could honor the academically successful, the athletically successful, the dramatically successful, the artistically successful, the service-oriented, the scientifically successful, the socially successful--and the kids for whom making it to school each day is their success.  I wished there was a way to give those kids who have slept on the couch, or endured another night of drunken parents, or no parents at home, or fighting parents--those who have not had enough food, or who are sick and don't have health care, or who just really need someone to talk to--I wished there was a way to appropriately honor those kids.  To let them know that we, the adults whom society defines as "successful,"  see who they really are--that we see their beautiful spirits and we love them and are here for them; that we are able and willing to reflect back to them the best of who they are instead of the worst or their mistakes.

I don't know how that would look on the school calendar, but I trust there are those people every day who are in the schools doing just that.  Sometimes, we have to redefine our definitions of success. 

Appropriately, last night's ceremony was closed with this prayer from St. Francis of Assissi.  May we each take it to heart today, and reflect the best in all who cross our paths:

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace; where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; and where there is sadness, joy. O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood, as to understand; to be loved, as to love; for it is in giving that we receive, it is in pardoning that we are pardoned, and it is in dying that we are born to Eternal Life. Amen.

Blowin' in the wind....

This morning, I was excitedly sharing with my spiritual support group about Breakfast with Buddha--a novel I've found beautiful in places.  I was talking about how I loved the joy in the book and the focus on love as what "makes go the world."  It reminded me of the button I had in college that said, "Love is the answer.  Now, what was the question?"

A character in the novel also describes God as music that is always playing--beautiful music--yet, not everyone can hear it.  Not everyone is listening.  With a clear mind, it is easier to listen; with a clear mind, it is easier to know that love is what makes the world go around. 

Fast forward to the dinner hour, where, in the midst of my realizing I'd started it quite late, my son arrives and announces the dog has just had an accident.  This particular rescue pup is prone to anxiety-induced random pees every once in awhile...While I deftly get the dog elsewhere, complete the stages of dinner that results in getting it into the oven, and clean up the accident, I ponder how to keep a clear mind.  Just as I am taking a deep breath and reminding myself that my stress level is really my choice at the moment, my son wonders out loud what type of candy he should dress up as tomorrow for spirit week.  I jokingly suggest he tie a pillow case over his head and go as a tootsie pop.  Just the visual makes me laugh out loud, especially when I realize he can't see with a pillow case over his head and would be running into God knows what all day.

Then I start to think, what kind of mother would think that's funny?  A human one.  One that is thankful for the Hurricane of Grace that surrounds her, even when she is not listening.  The air is dense with the aroma of dinner in the oven.  The dog has settled for a nap on the couch.  The son is ensconced in Spanish homework.  Perhaps I am hearing a note of that beautiful music after all.

The Spirit of Intersex

I have written recently in The Federal Way Mirror, and in the Parenting by Strengths Blog about Intersex issues.  The media coverage of Caster Semenya, which coincided with my finishing the book, Middlesex,  has prompted these writings.  Our society, by and large, is woefully ignorant about intersex issues--the frequency of their occurrence, the number of issues that cause them, the difference between sex and gender in general.

Here, on my personal blog, I am struck by what God thinks about all of this, having created each and every individual exactly the way they are and loving us all--those of us who are intersex, along with those of us who are woefully ignorant about this topic and still use the outdated and inaccurate term "hermaphrodite." 

This video is a performance by Eric Bibb of his song, Spirit I Am.  I was introduced to this song this weekend at a Satsong at my favorite yoga studio.  I think it brings it all home.  We all live the spirit we are, in the bodies we have.  Amen.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9LTYmFMQ-4A

Grace Among the Blackberries

I was picking blackberries the other day, and I got to thinking. Not native to our area, they are invasive, thorn-ridden pesty brambles that folks love to hate--except when they bear their annual fruit, at which time we all rush out to pick as many as we can to create delectable jams, cobblers, crisps and such.

As I navigated the thorns with bowl in hand, I began to think of the analogies with life.  Which parts do I look over, deeming them not good enough for my attention?  Which parts are not quite ready for my attention?  Which parts am I willing to make careful plans, go through thorns, and even put up with an injury or two to get at?  Which parts take me unaware?  Which parts are past any help?  Which parts stain my hands as I deal with them?  Which parts are sweet?  Sour?  Moldy?  Out of reach?  Hidden?

It's our attitude, I decided, that makes quite a difference in how we see things, be they blackberry bushes or life.  God created this plant, this life, and depending on our perspective (what's in it for me?), we see more prominently the thorns, the fruit, or the potential.

Fast forward to a meeting at church last night, where I was decidedly wearing thorn-colored glasses.  I vocalized my concerns, my complaints, my....issues.  This morning, as I was thinking about it, I was humbled.  I needed to take my own advice.  I was looking only at what was in the way and had forgotten to count my blessings.  I had forgotten that I am more than a body, more than a youth director, more than a congregant.  I am a Spirit, a Child of God, and I had momentarily lost my connection with that fruit and potential, only to be mired up in the thorny patch of "reality."

Reality is over-rated sometimes.  Or maybe I should say, what we define as reality is over-rated sometimes.  I am staring squarely at a choice of focusing on what could be or what is.  Byron Katie has done amazing spiritual work by living her belief of not only not resisting, but loving what is (she has a book by that name, by the way.....).   I can, as in so many situations in life, stay caught up in what I wish were true, what I think would be better or best, what I know could be only if....Or I can take stock of what is in front of me, practice gratitude, and move forward in grace.

This morning, I choose grace.  I've begun phone calls to let people know how I am grateful for them.  I am creating a new reality--one where I know I am Spirit in this body; much like our church is a place where God can hang out and inspire people to do Her work.  And I'm having blackberry cobbler for lunch.

Blinded by the light....

I took a walk bright and early yesterday, as it was the first day of school for one son, and I was up anyway.  I have to admit that my intentions of walking more regularly this summer did not manifest as I had hoped.  I simply didn't take the time to get myself out the door first thing in the morning, which is when I need to go or it just doesn't happen.

As I felt the familiar rhythm of my feet on the pavement, my mind began to settle, and what usually happens began to happen:  I remember stuff I need to do.  So, there I was, at 6:30 in the morning, on a beautiful late summer day, coming up with an acronym so I could remember all the stuff I needed to do when I got back home.  It wasn't very relaxing--more anxiety producing, because I began to worry I would forget all the stuff I was remembering.

As it was dawning on me that I was likely undoing any benefit from the walk by increasing my anxiety, I turned the corner, literally.  Then, as I was blinded by the angle of the bright sun, I noticed that the pavement seemed to be glittering, much like Edward does in the Twilight movie when he reveals his grotesque beauty to Bella (it took Stephanie Meyer to enlighten us that vampires don't necessarily burn up in the Pacific Northwest sunlight--they just glitter).  Anyway, at that moment, I turned the corner figuratively as well, realizing that I really could enjoy my walk, and it was the relaxed mind that remembered better than the anxious one.

Today, on the radio, I heard a new song by Francesca Battistelli, and some of the lyrics grabbed me:

I got a couple dents in my fender
Got a couple rips in my jeans
Try to fit the pieces together
But perfection is my enemy
And on my own I'm so clumsy
But on Your shoulders I can see
I'm free to be me

Now, this cute young thing is all of about 20, but still, I loved the message.  It's ok that I'm not perfect--in fact, God wants me to be me.  And the dents in my fenders and rips in my jeans just mean I've been engaging in life. 

It's like when my dear grandmother had cataract surgery a few years ago.  I called to see how she was doing.  "OK," she sighed.  "What's wrong?" I asked.  "Well," she said, "now that I've had the surgery, I can see how many wrinkles I have!"  "Grandma," I said sincerely and with as much love as I could infuse in my voice, "you've earned every one of those beautiful wrinkles.  They are your wisdom lines." 

Now, I am growing my own wisdom lines, and they come with a few dents and rips and aches in other areas.  I like to think this means I am living my life well, and using it up.  I can't take it with me, so I might as well give what I've got while I'm here, and enjoy as many moments as I can.  I'm pretty sure God would want that.  I just need to keep the faith that temporary blindness can make way for clear vision.

Read about things falling apart.....

on my blog at www.waysideucc.org.

Everything I Need to Know About Life, I Learned in a Boat....

For someone who spent a lot of her growing up years amidst corn fields in the midwest, I now spend a fair amount of time in and around water.  Especially in the summer, when our family takes to our old ski boat turned wake-board boat, I am often more wet than dry on a given day.

This year, like many before, we have made the trek East to warmer temps (well, except for that record-breaking heat wave in Seattle that we missed by being in Idaho), warmer water, and relaxing days on the boat.  Our second week of vacation this year included six teen boys, ranging in age from 16 to almost 20--from a junior in high school to two college sophomores.  They are the nicest guys--their niceness punctuated by some rude and crude and politically incorrect moments, laughter, encouragement, and lots of snacks and energy drinks.

As we hit the water today (you go first, Amy!--no one else wanted to be first in the cold river....), I was struck by what an analogy for life our boat can be.  We have had a full boat this week, so the weight of all these big guys needs to be distributed evenly for smooth rides.  We hope for calm water (in boating terms, "glass") but sometimes get waves and wind--or both in the same ride.  We have people watching who is behind the boat, to encourage, clap or cheer when they've done something new, and hold the flag up when they fall to signal to other boats there's a person down.  We have a tower to help wake boarders be more successful in their endeavors, and a bimini for shade.  We have soap to make it easier to get the boards on, and we patiently change the rope length depending on who's turn it is.

Sometimes, a few of us have to sit out so someone can take a run without so many of us in the boat.  We all wear life jackets when we get in the water, and we wear sunscreen in the sun.  We bring snacks and drink along for the ride, and share towels when one of us is wet and cold.  Sure, there are cranky moments, but by and large, we are a big team-family on the boat, all working to help each other be successful and have fun.

I was thinking how great it would be if everyone had this in their lives more of the time--life jackets when getting in rough water, a flagger to alert others when they need to maneuver more carefully around your friend.  People to cheer when you try something new, and cool drinks and snacks for when we need a break.  How nice it would be if we could all prevent ourselves from getting burned and if we could get out of the heat whenever we needed to.  I was thinking that, if we were all there for each other a little more, how much more relaxing life might be, even when the water gets a little rough, or there's an unexpected gust of wind and your life doesn't handle quite as well as it does when the water is flat calm.

My favorite quote of all times is from Mother Theresa, and it happened to be on the N-Sid-Sen camp shirts this year:  We do not do great things, only small things with great love.  The more we put love into the small details of life, the richer and lovelier it is.  The more we surround ourselves with an encouraging team, the easier it is to get through the challenging times. So, today, I have a wish for you:  May you always have a life jacket when you need one, a flagger to provide support and safety, and a loving team you've chosen to be in your boat, no matter what the weather conditions.