Glimmers

Dear Friends,

“Light, dark, light, dark…..light……dark, light, dark…..light….”

This was one of the favorite games we played with our young sons on road trips. Perhaps you’ve played it too? We traveled along in the car, surrounded by trees, the sunshine coming through the leaves and creating a pattern of light and dark on the grey road. Because of our continuous movement through the pattern, we experienced the transition almost as a staccato of shadows.

“Dark, light, dark….dark…..dark, light, dark, light….”

I remember the fun of trying to keep up with the pattern as it flew by. I remember the trust this game cultivated for me, I could rely on light or dark to fill my senses. Sometimes in a flash, sometimes for extended periods of time. I could rely on the trees and the sunshine to play with us, even if it was just a ride to the store.

Recently, my husband left for work and said, “Enjoy the ride,” as I prepared for the morning commute. Long ago, we learned that “the ride” on our motorcycle was far more important than the destination. When our awareness is on the ride, we smell the orchards we’re driving through, feel the coolness of a nearby lake, and lean together as the curve invites us to the left and then to the right.

As September appears in our view, its easy to complain about summer going by too fast. Its easy to focus on the “end” of summer or the next event – school, fall foliage, Hallowe’en. If our attention is on the next thing, however, we can forget to enjoy the ride. Perhaps what caught my interest in our “light, dark, light” game was the requirement to stay in the present moment. I had to pay attention to each shift of brightness and shadow to name it.

Lately, I’ve been paying attention to some darkness in my life. Some old memories that were hidden away under the demands of everyday life and years of growing older. Into my growing awareness, I brought my trust that light always follows dark. With focused attention, I engaged my capacity to stay in the present moment. I stayed with the memories allowing them to teach me and to release me from patterns and beliefs that are no longer life-giving.

Our capacity to see and name the darkness is just as important as reaching out and dwelling in the light. Our willingness to move between the two, teaches us how to lean into the curves and keep our balance. As the new season brings shorter days, let us call out the shifts that we see along the way. Let us trust the ride, and each other, as we embrace both the dark and the light of our lives, as one.

With love along the way,
Lisa

 

 

Dear Friends,

Have you been to Alki Beach in West Seattle, Washington? To me, it’s one of the most beautiful places on earth! The expanse of sandy beach and blue water is surrounded by a panoramic view of the Cascade Mountain Range, the Olympic Mountains, Mt Rainer and Seattle’s skyline. It takes my breath away and at the same time, it is home. A recent visit brought back little girl memories of visiting my cousins in West Seattle after making the long trip from Northern California. I remembered our strong young legs running up the hills, after a day of play. I remembered fish and chips at their favorite spot. I remembered feeling included in their joy for life and love for one another. Home.

As we get older, our memories pile up on one another, some get forgotten, some retain a kind of “shimmer.” Some memories become the story of our lives that we tell ourselves, over and over, even if others may not remember things the same way. I’m thinking that some memories, join with the great collective unconscious that all of us share. Even though you were not part of my personal experience on the beach at Alki, you have your own beach memories, your own cousin memories, your own sunny-day-and-the-world-is -wonderful kind of memories. At least I hope you do! And its in that place of connection, of shared consciousness, that you and I meet as you read these words. And that place of connection, I would offer, is also a feeling of “home.”

I guess my August Glimmer is an invitation to expand our definition of “home.” Think for a minute of a time you were relaxed…safe….loved. Isn’t that an experience of coming home? If we add new images around the concept of home, we would have more opportunities for the inner peace that results. And, in this world of constant change and uncertainty, we’d have a way “in” to our hearts, in to the place where we know love, where we come home.

I am learning to trust a place within me that is not defined by words. While words enter through thoughts and memories, they are not the core experience. When I enter this place of rest, I even suspend my emotional response as best I can. For me, this inner home is much larger than feelings, although my feelings do surge in response to the peace I find here. Sharing this time of rest, of prayer, with others offers an experience that is rich as we are silently present to each other and to the great Mystery of Love.

So I offer here, humbly but passionately, a suggestion….
Listen to This two minute piece of music
It’s “Gabriel’s Oboe” from the soundtrack of The Mission, a movie made in 1986. As you listen, close your eyes and relax. Let the music’s vibration travel through your heart, mind and body. Be present to the music as you would to a sunrise, let it unfold as you sit in wonder. Don’t search for words to describe it or responses to explain it, just be…

You know, as I write this Glimmer and imagine you reading it, I am nudged into that same place of peace I’m trying to describe. I imagine your precious heart working so hard to manage all the responsibilities and pressures around you. Today I am sitting with you and holding your story, for a bit, so your heart can return home. Allow your heart to find its way back…

Come home…what might that really mean for you today?

With love, Lisa

Dear Friends,

Where does Hope reside?

I ask myself this question as the earth spins into July. I scan my emotions, easily finding surprise and silliness, amusement and anxiety. My emotions respond to Hope but I do not see her nest among them. I consider my thoughts, the teachings over the years, the truths and messages I have embraced and grown from. My understanding of Hope has been enriched by the wisdom of others, but the experience of Hope that calls out to me and draws me forward is more than a universal understanding. Hope lives within me. Wrapped in the colors of the human story, Hope is designed to respond to me, to my story.

I don’t hear people talking about Hope too much. They hope for something, like a sunny day or a good time. When faced with crisis, hope becomes more urgent, more of a plea. But what are we doing when we “hope?” Are we reverting to childhood “wishes,” when we hoped Santa would bring that certain gift? Are we practicing a creative form of denial, ignoring what is in front of us and attaching ourselves to the outcome we would prefer? What is Hope, exactly?

Emily Dickinson likened Hope to a bird, a force of life and energy. Albert Camus set Hope as a promise that winter will indeed move into spring and summer. I would offer an image of Hope as a warm, inviting room in our hearts, a place we “enter.” Hope, for me, is a strength we can draw from, a sweetness we can rest upon. When I enter Hope in my heart, I move beyond the neediness that runs much of my day. Instead, I walk into a deeper understanding of Spirit. There, I let go and trust.

It takes courage to have Hope, for as Cynthia Bourgeault states,

“(Hope) is entered always and only though surrender; that is the
willingness to let go of everything we are presently clinging to.”

If this is so, no wonder our tendency is to place Hope within the context of Christmas lists and weather predictions. We are being asked for so much more of ourselves when we enter a relationship with Hope. And we receive so much more than we realize, as Bourgault goes on to say,

“And yet when we enter it, it enters us and fills us with its own life.” ☀

Morgan Freeman’s character, Red, in Shawshank Redemption, allowed Hope to enter his heart in the final minutes of the movie. Earlier, he had proclaimed Hope as a dangerous thing. But through faith in his friend Andy, Red surrendered his fear of a better life and chose Hope. I share this 2 minute clip to inspire you, too, to find and walk through the doorway of Hope in your heart. Let the deep vibrations of Hope sustain you as you face life challenges. Discover an image that teaches you and draws you closer. Open your heart to Hope’s healing presence in your own story.

With Love…Lisa

☀ from Mystical Hope: Trusting in the Mercy of God, Cynthia Bourgault, 2001

Dear Friends,

Happy June!! I have missed you! I heard from some of you following my May Glimmer and am grateful we are sharing this human adventure. For me, this last month was so full that I feel as if I lived three months within the 31 days. My son, Paul, got married. I met many new life experiences and feelings as I witnessed the amazing moment of “YES” that he and Shaila shared. A wedding is a powerful catalyst to contemplate love. We are drawn into it’s mystery, into the new creation these two hearts bring into the world.

Weddings lift us up and remind us of love’s ever-presence. The celebration allows the community to share in this personal bond between two people and rejoice. We’re also reminded of love’s power at times of loss. Our hearts ache at funerals, and for many days after. The painful anguish might mask the source of its scream, naming it the separation from one we love. But without the great gift of love-shared, we would not know such loss. And love, my friends, is everywhere else in between, isn’t it?…in the simple offer to help a neighbor, picking up milk on the way home, or finding patience in moments of stress. Love is in the daffodil that reaches to the sun, in the night sounds that come through an open window, in the stillness of a sleeping baby resting in her grandma’s arms.

Have you seen the movie “Love, Actually”? In the opening scene, one of the characters describes the expressions of love found at an airport. For me, this movie is an anthem to Love! In the midst of brave or fearful behaviors, we see confused, selfish, endearing, lonely, loving people seeking a connection with someone else. And as the opening scene so sweetly shows, “love actually, is, all around.” Our job as sojourners on this planet is to see it, share it, create it, and receive it. Love needs each of us to join the dance! Love needs us to open our hearts to the music, raise our arms and and say “yes!” We danced at Paul and Shaila’s wedding, oh how we danced! Will you join the dance of love?

With love on this June day, Lisa

Dear Friends,

It is my hope that these monthly messages bring a little more light into your lives. Some days I see the light blazing through the darkness, and others, like today, I am grateful for the glimmer, the subtle but consistent, flickering light of Love.

April is an interesting month, it brings the promises of Spring and the celebration of Easter. April is all about “new life.” Yet as I wait for April to begin, we still have cold days, ice along the edges of the lake, and naked maple trees surrounding the house. Where is the new life in Connecticut when cherry blossoms are blooming in Seattle? Or, how can one celebrate those cherry blossoms when the Snohomish County mudslide is just miles away?

This disparity of images continues in other ways.

A dear friend faces loss while another celebrates an accomplishment.

                                        Families gather for a wedding as they hear of their relative’s car accident.

                                                                                  Repeatedly, it seems we are faced with the highs and lows of life.

Our hearts are worn out in response to external events or sometimes just waiting for the thaw to begin. And the question returns, how do we trust in new life when we’re surrounded by cold or darkness?

It’s not enough for me to “believe” anymore. It reminds me too much of Peter Pan asking me to clap to keep Tinkerbell alive. I find I’m attracted to Carl Jung’s words. “I don’t believe in God, I know God.” I am learning to trust my own experience, even using it as a reference point. When the darkness of doubt creeps into my heart, I remember Doris – her faithfulness and her unfailing regard for each human being. The image of Doris’s integrity stands between doubt and me, giving me a chance to breathe and recollect. When the chill of fear grabs me, I can now return to the gifts of my humanity. I see the sunrise and experience the peace it elicits in my heart. I recall moments on retreat or holding hands with my husband and am reminded…I know Love.

To paraphrase Jung, I don’t just believe in Love, I know Love. My human experience has reminded me over and over that Love is an energy, a reality that surpasses all the disparities around me. Love holds them as One. Remember the Irish blessing asking God to hold us in the palm of his hand? Well, what is he holding exactly? I would answer our joys and sorrows, tensions and gifts, fears and dreams. In this warm and safe place, our lives are tenderly nurtured and cared for. Here, in this loving embrace, new life emerges and we begin again. Let us remember those who are hurting today.

May the road rise up to meet you
May the wind be always at your back
May the sun shine warm upon your face
The rain fall soft upon your fields
And until we meet again
May God hold you in the palm of His hand.

With love on this new day, Lisa

Dear Friends,

Re-entry into “regular life” after an 8 day silent retreat is an interesting experience. As much as I might have resisted the silence behind the stone walls of the retreat center, I find myself just as startled by the noise of everyday life. The wide open space of reflection….gone. The profound depth of shared listening….gone. Instead, I’m surrounded by music I didn’t ask for or voices filling in where quiet used to be.

These cold March days I am seeking ways to bring the retreat with me into my routine. I’d like to integrate what I heard along the frozen shoreline of Gloucester into the responsibilities and relationships that are here in my “one, wild and precious life.” *

It seems fitting to continue my reflection on the retreat as the Christian practice of Lent begins. Lent is a time of opening our minds and hearts to the mystery of God. This is no small task! The church suggests fasting, praying more, and giving of ourselves. Lent is a time to lower the volume of our needs and increase the volume of God’s message of Love.

And that is my prayer for you, my friends. May you find the volume control in your heart that allows you to turn down the voices of fear or doubt or guilt. They are not the voice of our loving God. They are wounds that are calling out for healing, remnants of old patterns or misunderstandings. Let them teach you so you may be free of them, but not controlled by them. 

Instead, find that other little dial or slider in your heart…you know the one, its tinged with gold and fits perfectly in your fingers. Tune it carefully and listen…keep increasing the volume until you can’t miss what is being said…you are loved, you are loving, you are lovable. Let the music of these words fill your mind, your heart, your being. Trust this message and enter into your own retreat time, your own deeper connection with your God. May it be so…

With love, Lisa
*thank you to Mary Oliver and “The Summer Day”

Dear Friends,

Another cold winter day in Connecticut….much of the state is closed down due to our February 5th snowstorm “Derby” and I am grateful to be home. Shoveling awaits, but for now it is great just to look outside.

I spent last weekend on retreat with my sister Mercy Associates, the theme was compassion and the interdependence of all of creation. We explored many images and ideas within the warmth of the retreat house and our love for one another. One image stood out for me…that of the “holon.” Think of a Russian doll, the kind that has a doll within a doll within another doll. Scientists are using the holon to describe our limitless universe or the complexity of the human body. Believers use the image to describe our life within the Divine.

And poets? Thornton Wilder, in his 1938 play, “Our Town,” understood this concept as he wove science and faith together in the following lines. They are spoken with amazement by Rebecca Gibbs, a younger sister of main character George:

“I never told you about that letter Jane Crofut got from her minister when she was sick. He wrote Jane a letter and on the envelope the address was like this: It said: Jane Crofut; The Crofut Farm; Grover’s Corners; Sutton County; New Hampshire; United States of America…Continent of North America; Western Hemisphere; the Earth; the Solar System; the Universe; the mind of God – that’s what it said on the envelope.”

I’ve always loved this quote and have sometimes rewritten it in my mind with myself as the name on the envelope. Me, especially in my moments of self-importance, finding myself within the larger and larger circles of reality, until ultimately resting within the mind of God. Try that exercise for yourself…and discover the peace of letting go and being connected to each layer of life. Relax into the notion that your life is embraced, as a baby in her mother’s arms, by God’s abiding love. There is no expectation beyond trust. That is the invitation and the promise.

Thinking of you with love, Lisa

Dear Friends,

I write this message as the sun goes down on January 5th, 2014. The sky is hovering between grey and snowy white as it awaits the deep darkness that will soon come. Snow is all around the house on this cold Connecticut evening, but even the snow will be covered by the blanket of night.

I am in a place of expectant waiting as I think of you, because I know tomorrow is January 6, the Feast of Epiphany. I know the darkness will be pierced by the bright light of the dawn. I know the gift of Epiphany that brings light into our tender souls.

In Christian tradition, Epiphany celebrates the arrival of three kings or wise men to the manger of baby Jesus. This moment brings the birth of Christ to the larger world. Thomas Keating, OCSO, suggests that Epiphany might be called “enlightenment” in other religions. He says,

“Epiphany is the inward realization and consciousness of being identified with who we really are. We are not our false selves or egos. Kiss them goodbye. ….the most important aspect in life is the epiphany or revelation of God that is going on all the time in the details of life.” *

All the time…God is revealed in the faces I see at the grocery store. All the time…God is revealed in my car’s full tank of gas, my husband’s surprise gift on a cold winter day. All the time…God is even revealed in my impatience with a telemarketer, because I’m invited to respond as my best self to this other human being. God is indeed in the details of life as I have the opportunity, again and again, to discover and share Love.

Christmas provides a helpful context so we can see Love being born into our world. On Epiphany, Love breaks through convention and hierarchy. The streams of light brings a king to his knee and elevates the hearts of all who stop to wonder.

Can we pause, look deep within and see the flicker of Love in our hearts? It’s there. It may be wounded or wandering, it may be strong and steady, On this Epiphany, let us embrace the revelation, once again, that we each carry a divine spark. We “house” the Divine in our hearts. Together, let us nurture the light of Love and learn from it. Together, let us open ourselves to the unending source of Love

*Contemplative Outreach News, Vol. 30, Number 1, December 2013

Love to you, Lisa