Category Archives: Soul Care

Gentle Nudges and Whispers

22 Wednesday Jul 2009

Posted by in Soul Care

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , ,

I should be paying bills.  Or a whole host of other things.  But instead I write, surrounded by resting dogs.  Other than a few odds and ends, there’s nothing much on my plate for the rest of July.  It’s a good feeling to have my gardening ‘hope desk’ commitments fulfilled; and as I’m on a writing holiday from Everyday God, I’ve been enjoying some time for leisurely writing and reading.  

But yesterday, during a lull in phone calls at the ‘hope desk’, I was rocked out of my sweet lullaby to receive what may have been a small ”nudge’ of remembrance from Everyday God.   The three of us on duty know each other fairly well from last fall’s master gardening classes, as we shared a common table and counselor, though both are light-years ahead of me in terms of gardening knowledge. 

So we took advantage of the space to catch up on each others lives and gardens.   During a brief pause in conversation, one friend asked after Daddy’s health.  And while in the midst of sharing a short report of Dad’s good news, my other friend interrupted my story, in the hurried and breathless way that local weather forecasters preempt regular programing to inform its viewing audience that a tornado is breathing down their necks.  I confess to doing this too often myself, so I had no problem with her interruption.  I understand all too well how weighty thoughts can disappear if not given birth when ready to come into the world.

To my great surprise, she couldn’t wait to tell me that if I ever offered Everyday God again, she wanted to come.  Forgetting Daddy for the moment, I responded to her words, telling her I didn’t know what the future held with respect to this contemplative spiritual formation class I was mid-wifing.  But that I would definitely keep her in mind if I offered the class a second time.  I don’t think she thought any further of her words.  Her job was done; the weight was off of her and onto me.  And I was surely left to wrestle with the meaning of this unexpected source of desire.  Was this a nudge from God, a whisper to remind me not to become too comfortable in my life of leisure?   

If so, it worked.  Because this morning, and even a little last night, while pouring through Evelyn’s Underhill’s book Mysticism, I began to think about future lessons.  And even about offering the first seven sessions of Everyday God a second time around.  And the thought of both is so…comforting, so moving, so beautiful and lovely.  Though none of these words are an exact fit of  ‘it.’

But I am drawn toward these in the same way my friend is.  And not because I should do them.  I do too many things out of ‘should’.  But this I have done and would do out of the deepest of desires.  I want to.  And so, it’s time to go dash off a quick and breathless email to interrupt my friend Linda’s day, while the tornado is breathing down my neck, creating this burning awareness of the beauty of life within me.  And before the fear of it keeps me from birthing my own version of this whispery nudge.  

Another Cinderella Story

17 Friday Jul 2009

Posted by in In the Garden, Mesta Park, Soul Care

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

, , , ,

Sometimes I get an idea in my head and it’s hard to let go.   And I’m not sure whether it’s me or the idea itself that refuses to part ways. 

This time it’s the duplex next door.  For nine months now, I’ve thought of calling the owner to offer free landscaping services for his front yard.  What stops me in my tracks is the owner himself.  He’s a kind soul that doesn’t deserve such intrusion into his life by this unneighborly neighbor who has such big dreams for his property.

Yet.  The idea refuses to go away.  So this past month, I’ve explored the possibility with my spiritual director.  And then I casually mentioned it to a neighbor I ran into while walking my new dog through Mesta Park.  And yesterday, during a lull at the County Extension ‘hope desk’, I spoke to some fellow master gardeners about my designs on the duplex.    All have encouraged me to go talk to the owner.  But so far, I’ve talked to everybody but the one person I should be talking to.    

And meanwhile, I talk myself out of calling him.  I simply don’t know how and where to begin.  Just how do I explain my motivations to the owner when I don’t even understand them myself?  God knows I’ve tried to get underneath this desire to do this.  And when I examine the facts in my mind, it doesn’t make a bit of sense.  I find that this particular duplex is not the ugliest property on the block.  And while landscaping would certaintly increase our entire block’s property value, and most certainly the duplex’s own, it’s not the money that entices my interest.  Instead, as best as I can tell, it’s a simple matter of the heart — it seems to be all about the chance to create a little beauty where beauty is sorely lacking.  

In her book Mysticism, Evelyn Underhill explains how our hunger for the divine is mediated through the experience of beauty.  She writes,

“We know not why “great” poetry should move us to unspeakable emotion, or a stream of notes, arranged in a peculiar sequence, catch us up to heightened levels of vitality: nor can we guess how a passionate admiration for that which we call “best” in art or letters can possibly contribute to the physical evolution of the race.  In spite of many lengthy disquisitions on Esthetics, Beauty’s secret is still her own.  A shadowy companion, half seen, half guessed at, she keeps step with the upward march of life: and we receive her message and respond to it, not because we understand it but because we must.” 

I know this indescribable feeling of “must”.  Like my mother, I want to waltz through life making silk purses out of sow ears.  I am drawn to create beauty–and I define beauty broadly, as some of my efforts served to simplify only what others regarded as complex–with little regard for time or money.  I’m one who can ponder something for months… then with no earthly provocation…I dive in without warning and up to my eyeballs, I float on hope until I figure out how to swim.  

That’s sort of how it happened with my last Cinderalla story, with the duplex that sits across the street from my house.  A year ago I reported the property to city control for having foot high weeds.  Then the owner came, and finding her kind, I decided to offer free help.  And in spite of all the long hard work, what I recall most is the pure joy of creating a little beauty with God.  But even now, I blush at the memory of my boldness, as I offered my opinions left and right on what her duplex needed, even going so far as to suggest new paint colors and offering to do some of the painting for free, so she could decide if she’d liked it.  Amazingly, rather than sending me packing, she thanked me for all my ideas and all my help. And I’m still helping.  These photos of  ‘before’ and ‘after’ show what a little love can do. 

Before

Before

  

After

After

So I’m wondering.  Do I really believe in the truth of this fairy tale?  Because if I truly believed, wouldn’t I be calling the owner of the ugly stepsister next door?  I’m no fairy godmother and I know it.  Fairy godmothers always pop in just when their services are most needed.   And while I may think my services are more than needed, I’m not sure the duplex owner will feel the same. 

No, I’m more like the fool who rushes in where angels fear to tread.  The question becomes:  Must I?

Two Women’s Circles

10 Friday Jul 2009

Posted by in Life at Home, Soul Care

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , ,

In the crazy way that life works out, it was me who needed the break from Everyday God.  What has been exciting and fulfilling on the one hand has left me weary and needing rest on the other.  So last Wednesday, we gathered to wrap-up this leg of our shared journey.  And to discuss our next steps.    

It seems that this little bit of spiritual food I served each week to a small group of women has whet their appetites for more.  It’s a good sign that they are not ready for it to end, though I know that part of Everyday God’s appeal is that it allows folks to just show up, without the need for advance preparation.   Life is way too busy for most to add to their already full plates, though the desire is often there.  

What ever happened to those lazy days of summer?  Was it just a childhood myth that evaported into thin air as we grew into adults?  Thinking back to my Granny’s life, during the years  Granddad was growing acres of fresh vegatables and melons, summers were anything but lazy, as Granny and Aunt Jane were always busy canning tomatoes or green beans or whatever for Granny’ pantry. 

Memories of those hot summer days were preserved not so long ago that they are still easily recalled.  Most days I drove my 1972 Camaro back and forth to a TG&Y Family Center where I worked in Oklahoma City.  But whenever I had a day off, I would normally spend it in Granny’s country kitchen.  I was never much help though I grew tired anyway, just from watching  Granny and Jane work.

Granny’s kitchen was cooled by a big south window, so canning activities always took place in the morning before the kitchen grew unbearably hot.  In the evening, they’d take their work outside where they could catch a cool breeze — and beneath a big Pecan tree just outside Granny’s kitchen–Granny and Jane and whoever else happened to drop by or responded to their invitation would pull up an old metal chair to rest their weay bones as they husked corn or snapped green beans or shelled black-eyed peas.  And with busy hands, they would simply visit about everyday life.

I pulled up my motel chair every chance I got, partly because it was just lovely to be in the midst of this group of women and partly because I never knew what would come out of their mouths.  Sometimes a little bit of gossip, but more often than not, it would be a story from their own everyday lives.  Past and present.   

“Hey, did you hear…..?”     Before the complete story could be told, one aunt would cut the other off in mid-stream.  “Oh no.  That’s not what I heard…”   Then quickly… “Well, what did you hear?  And so  it went.  My two aunts held jobs in the midst of a thrving downtown, which pretty much made them authorities on the entire town’s doings.  As the Aunts battled over their talk of town, Granny would listen quietly as she battled her arthritic hands to finish her evening’s allotment of vegtables. 

The Circle from my past was interested in preserving food for the table while this Circle from my present is focused on food for the Spirit.  Yet both are bound together by a shared interest in getting to the truth of each other’s everyday life stories.  And this bit of shared thread is one that invites me to continue pulling up my chair to this newest  Circle in my life.  Perhaps, after three years and five hundred miles since belonging to my last, I may be finally finding my own seat within a new circle of chairs.   Time, as they say, always tells the story.  For now, I know our Everyday God Circle has agreed to meet monthly, where we will share the load of telling the Story and together, will listen to each other’s life. 

I look forward to playing the part of Granny at August’s gathering of circled chairs.