A Deeper Story: Stepping Into the Holy

I can’t even begin to put into words how grateful I am to be a small part of the Deeper Story community. Ours is a rare and wonderful space on these cyberwaves, filled with honest story-telling and great conversation. Please follow the link to read all of this post over there . . .

IMG_3614 KITCHEN - Version 2

It washed over me in a flood yesterday afternoon: I really love my life. Even when it’s hard, even when things I did not choose interrupt my forward progress on the way to where I thought I was going, even when I’m tired or sick or injured — I love my life.

 

I wasn’t doing anything particularly memorable at that moment. On the contrary, I was doing the usual — pulling together something resembling a meal for me and my husband. But there was this lovely, cool breeze flowing through the open kitchen window, the sun was shining, the wood floors were warm and smooth, the pantry was full, even the fridge was relatively well-organized and clean.

 

We’d had a surprise connection with our son for lunch earlier in the day, my mom was stable and smiling when I’d seen her the day before, the rest of our family was well and relatively happy, my foot was slowly healing. And, out of nowhere, I experienced a holy moment, right there in the middle of my green kitchen. So I stopped for a moment and I breathed a heartfelt, “Thank you!”

 

But here’s the flip side: even when I’m flooded with thanksgiving and delight like that, I too often find myself waiting for the other shoe to drop.

 

Do you know that feeling? That insidious inner warning bell that says, “Yeah, you be careful there, honey. Don’t be too happy. Sure, you can be grateful — but do it with a note of caution, all right? Things are going well right now. But just you watch. Right around the corner, something terrible is going to happen and then where will your ‘happy song’ go?”

 

And that sad little ‘ding, ding’ inside my spirit can sometimes keep me from fully appreciating the beauty that is right in front of me. That anxious feeling, that superstitious thinking, can too often torpedo my contentment, IF I let it.

 

And way too often, I do let it. I tone down the enthusiasm, I look for the hard/bad things in my life to offer as a counterweight to all the good vibes, I try to ward off impending doom with a strange kind of interior bargaining, struggling to keep the cosmic scales in balance.

 

Why is that, I wonder? Deep down, do I think I don’t deserve happiness? Am I living in a state of perpetual angst-ridden anxiety? Do I think “God is out to get me?” I’m not sure of all the deep-seated psychological and/or spiritual issues that come into play to create this strange little interior dance. I just know I’ve grown very, very tired of it. . . 

To read more, just follow this link and join the discussion.

31 Days of Looking for the Little: Finding Rainbows

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It started small. And sort of unsure of itself. It was our last morning in the lovely, large condo we had rented with our son and his family for our 9 days in Kahana, Maui. They were scurrying round, packing to fly home, and we were waiting to leave for our next, smaller place to stay.
Then we looked out from our lanai and watched the rain pour down into the channel between Maui and Moloka’i. Soon, just for a second, a rainbow started to form. Hawaii usually sports many lovely rainbows, but this trip we had seen very few. 
We called to the girls to come and see as it began to spread across the water. The arc was forming quite low over the water, but the colors were clear and bright. 
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And then, there it was! In all its glory, giving testimony to the wonders of light and shadow, water and reflection. And of course, to the Giver of the rainbow, the Keeper of promises. It felt like a blessing on our time together, a beautiful mark in the sky to say, “I see you, I love you.”
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It was just a small patch of color, hanging between sky and sea. But soon, it was a long, low arc of delight, a picture of love and beauty and joy.
What small pieces of beauty have you seen lately?
Just Wondering

31 Days of Looking for the Little: Serendipity

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Because we are traveling the last half of this month, I’m working way ahead on these October posts. And it’s been so much fun! 

We’ve been experiencing a particularly harsh heat wave here in southern and central California as I write, and sleep is sometimes difficult. The French doors in our bedroom face east, and they are usually closed with blackout shades in place. But because of the heat, we kept one door open all night last night, and the light streaming in woke me earlier than usual.

I am not a morning person. Let me repeat that. I am NOT a morning person. But every once in a while, I get a glimpse into why it might be a good thing to be one. 

When I grudgingly cracked open my eyes today, this is what I saw. The rising sun coloring the clouds, silhouetting the trees behind our home. 

It was just a minute or two — sunrises never last as long as sunsets — but it was pure glory all the while. A small moment of serendipity, wouldn’t you say?

Maybe I could get used to this early morning routine. . .

Nah!

Just Wondering

31 Days of Looking for the Little: Monotones

DSC02567 green berries

 

When I am in a garden space, I’m used to looking for the most brilliant color I can find. I love colors! And lots of them, too. But one day a couple of weeks ago, I was feeling tired and little bit blue, so I went outside for an hour or so.

I sat in a comfy chair, put my feet up and laid my head back, talking to God in a very general way. And then I was quiet.

I often find it helps to stop talking. Somehow it makes room for the other, maybe especially so for the Other. 

So I began to practice one of my favorite quiet meditative practices — I took out my camera. And I just looked around my yard for something interesting to shoot. These berries caught the sunlight at just the right angle, and I was mesmerized.

Sometimes my desire for lots of color robs me of the opportunity to enjoy God’s gift of one color. Monotones, I’m discovering, can be very restful. Try looking for something in your yard that has different textures, but is all one color. Then sit and stare at it for a few minutes, contemplating the angles, the way the light falls, the innate quiet of a single color.

What did you discover? 

Just Wondering

31 Days of Looking for the Little: Sparkles

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What is it about sparkly things? Little kids, even babies, will instinctively reach for things that are shiny and sparkly. And I’ve never outgrown that. 

I love to wear jewelry that sparkles. I enjoy fireworks, as long as they aren’t too loud. And I adore watching the sunlight play across the breaking waves of the ocean. Adore it.

I love the ocean in any kind of weather. Truly, I do. But when the sun is high and shining brightly? When the waves are breaking just so? When the birds are calling and dipping into the midst of the sparkles? Well, that’s heaven right there.

Sparkles are by definition little things. But when you see a whole lot of sparkling going on, that shiny stuff can seem very large, indeed. 

I want to be a sparkly person. Not a fake one — human beings need to experience all kinds of weather, too. And they need to be honest about it, always. But overall, I’d like to sparkle. It’s just a little thing, but I think it’s quite wonderful. 

Just Wondering

31 Days of Looking for the Little: Baby Steps

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If you’ve followed this blog at all, you just might recognize the woman in this photo. This is my mother. The mom I remember, the one who loves the ocean and sometimes takes amazing physical risks.

She was in her 60’s when this picture was taken. And she had a ball that day. I think it may have been the last time she ventured onto a boogie board, but she loved every minute of it! 

My memory of this picture told me that she was laughing uproariously. But, as you can see, she is not exactly smiling. She looks more than a little bit worried, truth be told! And I get that!

I have long admired my mother for days like this, for making life an adventure and taking a chance. These were baby steps to be sure; she didn’t venture out into very deep waters. But I didn’t care. I was thrilled that she went out at all! If I could figure out a way to do it without having to wash up onto the beach and then get these knees of mine to get me up off the ground, I’d try it again, too!

Baby steps are still steps, right? Yeah!

Just Wondering

SheLoves: Tuning In

Once again, it’s the last Saturday of the month and I’m joining the amazing crew at SheLoves Magazine. This month, we’re writing about listening. I took a very personal slant on that idea this time around . . .
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I took a short walk at the beach today, the first time since early June. I was slow, my stride was short, my right hip hurts, my left heel hurts, but . . . I took a walk at the beach today. You have no idea how much freedom is contained in that short sentence.

I took a walk at the beach today.

I’m sitting in the shade this afternoon, enjoying the clarity of the water, the light fuzziness of the skyline, the crowds of local people, enjoying the beauty of the beach. It’s very nice to be back in the school routine, not the tourist routine. There is parking!

There is room for me once again.”

These are journaling words from mid-September, written about 48 hours after being released from a heavy boot and the restrictions of a walker. I was finally able to wear TWO shoes after a long stretch (almost 14 weeks) of one-footed-ness while in various stages of recovery from foot surgery in early June.

It was that day that I knew I had turned a corner. Why? Because something about being near the ocean invites me to listen differently. To listen to the scene around me — the rhythm of the water against the shore, the call of the gulls, the splash and squeal of children getting wet, the gentle conversations of friends and family in different configurations along the water line.  And to listen to the sweet voice of God, reminding me that I am seen, I am loved. All of it was welcome, familiar, comforting, a reminder that there is a bigger world than the confines of my bedroom. There is a bigger God than the one I had been imagining while confined!

When you are ill, or in the midst of a long recovery of some kind, listening well becomes problematic and strangely difficult.  There is solitude to be found, that is most certainly true! But it’s a strange kind of solitude, not intentional, but enforced by circumstances beyond your control. And sometimes that enforced solitude can mean turning inward in ways that are not always healthy.

I am discovering that there is a difference between turning inward to hear from the gentle voice of the Spirit and turning inward to be assaulted by the anxieties and struggles of my own sick self. Finding my way through that particular thicket has not always been easy during this stretch of time.

 Please follow the link on over there, won’t you?

31 Days of Looking for the Little: Small Gifts

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I have some delightful friends that I have yet to meet. That is the glory of this thing called cyberspace. And about two weeks after my surgery last summer, I got this little box in the mail. I had no idea who it was from and happily ripped into it.

The delightful contents shown above are what the box contained, but this was the first thing I saw as I opened it up:

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And it was exactly that: a little box of sunshine. Everything in it was yellow, from plush tea towels to boxes of candy to smiley face stickers. All of it, yellow.

And I laughed out loud from the joy of it all. In truth, I received a number of delightful surprise boxes from a lot of my internet friends — my deep thanks to each one of you. But this is the only one that came from someone I have yet to meet IRL. So thank you, Addie Zierman, for making my day back then. And thank you for inspiring me to do something like this for someone else someday.

It is the little things, isn’t it?

Just Wondering

31 Days of Looking for the Little: Prickly Things

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On a drive last spring, I got out and took a walk at Morro Rock, about two hours north of here. And right there, in the shadow of that great rock, I found this glorious thing. A cactus, in full bloom.

The rock is huge, but this plant was just a small thing, almost in its shadow. But I took a picture of it — and not too many of that rock. It was too big for my viewfinder for one thing. And it’s just a big ole rock, for another.

But this? This was lovely. From a distance. I had absolutely no desire to get up close and personal with it, no urge to see if the flowers had a fragrance or not (some cactus flowers smell heavenly). It was just big enough that I didn’t want to chance leaning in too closely. Because those spines? They can hurt.

There are some good things in this life that are best seen and experienced at a bit of a distance, aren’t there? I loved the vibrant color of these blooms, and the quirky way they popped right up out of the edge of those leaves. But looking on from 15 feet away was just fine by me.

There have been times in my life when I’ve thought something was totally safe and it turned out not to be be. It was still good or beautiful or educational or helpful, but it was not to be enjoyed too closely or too much.

Life does have prickly things, you know? And some of them are little.

Or at least, littler than Morro Rock!

Just Wondering

31 Days of Looking for the Little: Support

DSC02837 crooked tree

This is an old eucalyptus tree, down by the beach where I love to walk or sit and look. I happened to notice it a few days ago, while I was resting after a good walk. Do you see how crooked some of those branches are? And how the one on the bottom is sort of holding up the bigger one just above it?

I’ve looked at this tree dozens of times, but this is the first time that I noticed how gnarled it is. And how the branches are helping each other grow.

And I reflected for a few minutes on all the ‘branches’ that have helped me to grow over this long life of mine. My parents, my brothers, my extended family, my husband, my in-laws, my children, my grandchildren, my close friends, my professors, my fellow students, my parishioners, my directees. It’s a long list!

So when I got back home and looked carefully at this picture, I just took a minute to say ‘thank you’ for all the good, sturdy branches God has put around me.

Who has supported you along the way?

Just Wondering