Glimmers

Dear Friends,

For the past several weeks, I’ve been stepping into new rooms to share my thoughts about grief. Some are filled with books, others are more vacant, all-purpose rooms. Some rooms are set aside to allow quiet reflection… to support the travels of our hearts in the deep waters of loss or faith or wonder. When we come together, regardless of the shape of the room, we create community for a time. We agree to be together, let our souls brush past one another, in shared conversation or in the quiet of prayer. It’s been a gift to me to witness this coming together, this coalescence of hearts. For a time, we share an unspoken agreement to let Love come into the room.

I recently attended a funeral of a dear Sister of Mercy, here in Connecticut. Extended family, childhood friends, colleagues in ministry, Sisters, Associates and others gathered to remember Sr Joan. As I sat with my own feelings and memories, I found the words to describe one of Joan’s many gifts and the theme of this Glimmer…she let Love come into the room. Simply, with both delight and dignity, Sr Joan’s presence opened the windows and doors of wandering hearts…Love appeared in conversation and in silence, in a smile and in a tear. How blessed we were to know such a witness of Love, to receive her affection, to learn from her deep and hope-filled heart.

I grieve her absence. My heart is searching for her as I write these words. And yet, as I prepare for another program on the sacred art of grieving I return to the invitation and intention of coming together in Love. I imagine another circle of faces watching me talk about the pain of loss and the balm of grief, and I’m encouraged to slow down, to share my witness of Love, to make space for others to reconnect with their own experiences of Love. John Welshons said, “To heal our grief, we must know that love is a state of being within us.” He says that when we experience love with another, “what we’re really doing is touching the place within ourselves where we are love.”

So I go forward, in my own way, seeking to let Love into the room…to help heal grieving hearts, to enable community, to honor Joan, and to encourage you to reside in the place within yourself where you are love. Let Love into the room!

Blessings on this new day in June,

Lisa

 

“We have no guarantee what will happen in the future, but we have hope. That’s what keeps us going.”

Tweet from the Dalai Lama May 7, 2018

Dear Friends,

A New England Spring is a feast for the senses! The slow greeeeening of the grass, the peeps and chirps that greet the sun, the fresh air with just enough moisture, the tiny little leaves getting a little bit bigger: all a welcome experience and testament to the promise of new life! This particular Spring comes after a prolonged winter; we sometimes wondered if Spring would ever come.

Nature is a great teacher of hope. The seasons do change, the living things follow their “primary directives” of foraging and growing, the sun moves across the sky – day after day. Hope is played out before us, as the dull, brown branches are slowly filled in with shapes and shades of green… once again…year after year.

A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to share a day of reflection with folks carrying a grieving heart. We used Spring’s  unreliable patterns as a metaphor for the uncertainty of grief. We walked the grounds of Mercy by the Sea in a Celtic way of seeing, with a direct “link between the eye and the heart,” and breathed in the new life all around us. We opened ourselves to hope. That is my reminder to you today, friends, the promise of hope. It is steeped in the magic of Springtime, it resides in the skin of a newborn babe, it appears when our eyes open each morning – inviting us into the gifts of this day, of this moment.

This is not to say that pain, frustration, betrayal, and grief do not exist. The Dalai Lama knows this, you know it too. The question is, where do we place our trust? What is the foundation we choose to stand on when living through life’s challenges? Those who face loss are forced to confront this question, which is especially difficult during the tender time of sadness and vulnerability. But it benefits all of us to pause and explore our personal understanding of hope…to imagine it’s texture and shape, it’s depth and resiliency, it’s heritage and it’s legacy.

I close with this message from Rainer Marie Rilke. Let it join your collection of quotes about hope. Let it remind you of the substantial and sustaining qualities of hope that are available to you…now…always.

“Have patience with everything that is unsolved in your heart and try to cherish the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you could not live them. It is a matter of living everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, one distant day live right into the answer.”

With lots of love from a hopeful heart, Lisa

“Grief, our ally and companion, reminds us of a central truth that is hidden in our tears and fears: The one whom we grieve loved us – we are lovable.” Lisa Irish, Grieving – the Sacred Art: Hope in the Land of Loss   

 

Dear Friends,

Wet snow is falling upon the purple crocuses surrounded by new green grass and on the tiny red leaf buds on my neighbor’s tree. Spring in New England is like that, we enjoy the promise of new life while the reminders of winter’s cold are still in our midst. A real life example of non-dual, or unitive thinking – we are challenged to live with the both/and of Spring: 60 degrees and sunny one day, then cold, wet snow the next.

I’m coming back to earth following a grace-filled Book Launch for my new book, Grieving – the Sacred Art: Hope in the Land of Loss, and now I return to daily tasks of making dinner, working at the computer, and swimming laps at the YMCA. Life carries both joy and sorrow, excitement and mundane, hope and despair. As we move through our lives, we hopefully learn to accept the both/and of our lives instead of avoiding emotional challenges and the pain. We are invited into unitive consciousness, a concept I incorporate into my understanding of grief.

This Glimmer’s opening quote sets the stage…. when we are lost in the emptiness and confusion of loss, filled with anguish and sadness, it’s easy to lose our grounding. It’s easy to focus on the pain and become disconnected with the love. Grief, our trusted resource for navigating the Land of Loss, takes us by the hand, gently but firmly, and helps us return to the center of our hearts. And that, dear friends, is where loss and love co-exist. Our loved one’s legacy is the precious reminder of their love. If we can add the awareness, that we are in fact lovable, to the mix of grief’s emotions; we will find the pathway to the Land of Hope. Each of us, you included, is a reflection of Love in this world. Look in the mirror and know that you are loved and you are lovable!

Blessings on this new and beautiful day!

Lisa

Dear Friends,

Yesterday, March 1, was my father’s birthday. If he were alive today he would be 93, instead he died at age 36. I lived a full and connected day yesterday, in honor of him. And, I’m coming to realize, because of him. My personal journey of grief through the losses in my early life led me on a path of healing that has brought me to this moment…right now…with each of you in my heart.

The following is an edited excerpt from my new book, Grieving – the Sacred Art: Hope in the Land of Loss. It includes one of the many stories I present about folks who sought help with their grief. This one is different, though, because it’s part my story. I share it to illustrate love’s healing presence in our lives, even in times of challenge.

Anne’s father died when she was eleven. Her life changed, as a result, but she found happiness and fulfillment in relationships and career. Anne married and raised a family, gratefully using her father’s name for her first son. Years passed, her children grew up and started their own lives. One cold February, the date of March 1st kept returning to her mind. Anne searched her memory but could not remember the significance of March 1st, so she let the date become a part of her prayer. Anne trusted the arrival of this date in her thoughts and waited to learn its importance. One morning, sitting at her desk at work, Anne was flooded with a depth of sadness that was inescapable…and she remembered. March 1st, this very day, was her father’s birthday. She let the tears fall, breathed through the pressure in her chest and remembered the emptiness. At the same time, Anne experienced a kindling of warmth and tenderness as she remembered love. She gave herself permission to receive this moment, even though it was attached to sadness. She did not dwell on forgetting her father’s birthday, but chose to be grateful for this powerful reminder of love. As the waves of feeling passed through her, Anne stayed aware of the sweet love that touched her little girl heart.

For Anne, this unexpected experience was indeed Love’s reminder. She surrendered to it and focused on the gift of that moment. Perhaps the years between the loss and healing helped, a more recent loss has other elements. Certainly grace appeared on that March day, and shows up in our lives as well. But our attitude toward love and grief is a significant piece in our healing and in our surrendering.   With Surrender’s help, we come to understand that our capacity to love is a part of who we are. It does not die. It is woven through our story, enhanced or inhibited by our unique nature and, ultimately, it is experienced in the present moment. Our relationships, in life and in memories, have gifted us with experiences of love… as long as we live, love lives on in us.

Friends, thank you for being on this road with me. I am so grateful for your interest and engagement in my Glimmers. I hope you’ll look into the book on Amazon  or Barnes and Noble and explore my ideas about conscious grieving. Your well being matters, so keep taking care of yourself! If you’re near by, send me an email – I’d love to see you at our April 8th Book Launch! In the meantime, “This one’s for you, Dad. Your love is still with me, it shines through the confusion of life and lights the path before me.”

with a grateful heart,
Lisa

“We must remember that to own the light is not to deny the darkness,

but to allow it to be transformed.” Doris Klein, CSA

Dear Friends,

It’s so easy to sit in the darkness of our own making….

            to “stew,” over and over again, about what didn’t happen

            to replay, with painful detail, what should have happened 

            to fear, a familiar place, that things will never change

The darkness of our wounds, wrongs and worries can wrap us up, hands bound, and deposit us on cold cement steps that go nowhere. And there we sit….sometimes wriggling a hand free to reach out for help, sometimes pulling away the layers of doubt that keep us bound. The darkness waits as we go through the usual routine of stepping over the the remnants of a particular encounter, watches as we try to pack away all the evidence of our deepest feelings, wonders when we will return to the realm of hopelessness. As it happens, the more we deny the darkness of our lives – be it loss, fear, anger, loneliness, shame – the more likely our return to the empty space within.

But there is hope. There is light in the darkness.

Doris Klein’s words are a wise response to normal, human struggles: “We must remember that to own the light is not to deny the darkness, but to allow it to be transformed.”* Ahhhh, a way through…our human journey is not simply choosing good over bad, light over dark. We are called to transformation. We are invited to shine the light of Love, that also lives in our hearts, upon our places of pain. This is not easy, “it takes courage,” she adds, “to be faithful to this transformative process.”*

Where do we find such courage to face the intimate stories of our lives that we keep hidden away? How do we shine Love’s light into the depths of who we are? For me, dear friends, the real question is, how do we not? This one life that we’ve been given is precious. It is filled with potential, like the crocus bulb waiting for winter’s cold to pass. She rests deep within the earth until the warmth of the sun’s light reaches down – coaxing, warming, inviting – until she says yes. We, too, hold much beauty in the depths of who we are. Love’s light is reaching out to us all the time, our task is to open our arms and surrender…to say “yes” to Love and allow it to transform our lives. “As we take the brave steps deeper into our healing, we move into an acceptance that changes us. We live out of our vulnerability and encounter a certain tenderness that becomes our strength. We shift away from control to empowerment, away from isolation into love.”+

Be brave! Let this one precious life of yours become a testament to Love.

peace on this day, Lisa

*Doris Klein, CSA, Journey of a Soul, (Franklin, WI: Sheed and Ward, 2000) 112.

+Lisa Irish, Grieving – the Sacred Art: Hope in the Land of Loss, (Nashville, TN: Skylight Paths, 2018) 116.

The elegant elephant joined the scene today,

her wooden flanks reflected the morning sun.

Yesterday saw the arrival of The Three Graces,

their beauty enhanced by the ease in their bodies.

Each day a new guest: Buddha, a blue heart, a candle…

and so it shall be as this Advent unfolds.

Dear Friends,

I’m trying something new this Advent season. I’m creating my own nativity scene with figures and symbols that are tucked away in our house. The Three Graces is a statue passed on from my mother-in-law, a light is shining through Corinne’s dragonfly candle holder. Each comes to the table to await the birth of Love, each opens my heart in new places as I wait with them.

My intent, as I sit with the scene each morning, is to allow the next choice to emerge from my prayer. I trust the quiet space before me, I’m having “tea with the dawn.”* I resist the voice that tells me I must set up the nativity as I always have. I’m changing and so is my prayer in this holy season of Advent.

Shepherds, sheep, wise men and camels searched for the Light of Christ throughout time. Their journeys to the stable, year after year, showed me the way so that I too can kneel before Love’s arrival. Some came with gifts, all came with wonder, what do I bring on the path to Bethlehem?

My nontraditional nativity allows me to respond to that question with real answers. The carved elephant carries the weight of concerns and fears that I’ve kept to myself. The Three Graces share their loveliness as I wish to share mine, with grace and humility. The Buddha honors the Divine in you and I, while joining in this time of expectation. Each day a new guest will arrive at this crossroads of faith and a new part of my story will open up to the promise of Love being born, once again.

until next time, Lisa

* the image is a gift from Macrina Wiederkehr’s “Prayer of the Teacup”

O when the saints, go marching in,

O when the saints go marching in,

Lord I want to be in that number, when the saints go marching in!

Dear Friends,

I’m a “small s saint.” There, I’ve said it. Out loud. I’m a “small s saint!” And so are you and you and you! I know there are “ Big S Saints” out there. “Big S Saints” share their light without hesitation or restriction. But I’m just a normal human – filled with fears, flaws and resistance, my light is “in-training.”

But I have a light. And so do you. Somewhere in each of us is a glint of light, an essence of hope, a shimmer of mercy. I experience it in others all the time, I bet you do, too. Think of that person who waved you into the shorter line at the grocery store. Or a friend who listened to your story. Or that infant that melted your heart. You encountered another soul who was willing to be present to your soul…you connected.

For me, these heart-felt connections are evidence of Divine Love that resides within each of us. Love that extends beyond my limited capacity, to something more. Love that lifts me up when I’m down, gives me courage when I’m afraid. Love that heals the wounds I have carried. Love that transforms my eager heart into its adorable “small s saint”ly self. For some amazing and grace-filled reason, I said, “Yes!” I will be that saint I’ve been called to be! No one else can shine my light for me. My light, like yours, like every human being on the planet, is unique and invaluable.

Join me, my friends, and claim the light you were born with! Let your light shine in the world around you! Let it’s warmth touch those you love and those you barely know. Your light, in its shining singularity, will nurture hope, bring comfort, ease another’s fears. Together, our lights can create into something beautiful!

Let your “small s saint”ly self join the parade as we go “marching in” together!

love to you on this first day of November,

Lisa

Dear Friends,

I was all set to write a Glimmer about “change” this month…

and then I read the news

I was preparing to pray about the changes around me..noisy construction down the street, the insistence of fall’s arrival, the rhythm of family life…

and then I saw the video

Maybe on another day I can write about the changing season and its lessons for me, but not today. Today, I stand before the truth of tragedy after tragedy, grieve for so many, and carry their pain in my prayer. Our collective grief, like change, asks me to adapt to reality. Our collective grief leads us all into an experience of Loss – where our own stories return to mind, where horrific images break our hearts, where we go numb in response to it all.

I tried to go on with my life, yesterday – attended a meeting, did my work out, sat at the computer – just behaving like it’s any other day.  It didn’t work. Impatience and irritability popped up and reminded me to pay attention. The losses in Las Vegas and Puerto Rico cannot be ignored. The images of Florida and Houston’s devastation are of my brothers and sisters on this planet, as are the pictures from around the world.

I seek to live a conscious, prayerful  life. I seek to open my heart to each moment, to make space for something greater than myself, to listen for Love. I feel so inadequate in the face of such pain, yet here is where Love is needed most of all. I’m going to church today – my faith tradition leads me to a place of surrender. I will open my hands and ask the God of my understanding to hold all of those hurting people. Please join me – at your church or temple, in your hearts and bodies, at the edge of the sea or along a wooded path – wherever you are in touch with Mystery. Join me, friends, as we hold onto Love on behalf of our sisters and brothers, on behalf of our own aching hearts.

peace be with you,

Lisa

Dear Friends,

Spider arrived today. I shouldn’t be surprised, she makes a home both inside and outside of our little lake house. It’s a spider-friendly environment. But when she walked into my life this time, I was cleaning a kitchen drawer…I was in a process of sorting.

Although I resist regular cleaning tasks, I find myself enjoying the process of sorting. Is the ginger still fresh? Do I really use that knife? What the heck is in this little plastic bag?? Sorting the details of the kitchen invites sorting though the details of my life. Do I want to stay on that committee? How is my morning routine going? What is my priority as I follow Autumn’s lead and begin again?

So what did Spider have to say about all of this? Well, as we know she is a creative master. She designs and constructs webs over and over, anticipating wind and weather, as if her life depends on it. She reminds me that I, too, weave my life with the strands of anxiety or the wisps of hope that I select from the vast storehouse of attitudes and emotions within me. She encourages me to notice that I have a choice over these resources. I can use my fears, over and over, to weave today’s web or I can gather my relationship with nature, for example, to establish intricate patterns within the space before me.

Spider gently invites me to see that my life depends upon my attempts to weave the elements of my life together into a Whole.

I don’t know what the Whole looks like yet. I’ve had glimpses, I’ve had dreams. I wonder if Spider sets her course with an architect’s hand, following the lines of a plan? Or does she turn to her core, her deepest places, and move forward out of her truth? I suspect she has learned to make spontaneous choices, to improvise. I admire that. Life can be unpredictable….

Sending love your way – from my web to yours,

Lisa