Neighborhood Views: Thursday's Reflection

Come walk with me in my neighborhood. 

Everyday I see something that surprises me, like this pumpkin patch on the curb.

Or makes me smile, like this planter.

Or warms my heart, like this simple sign of love.










Or makes me chuckle, like this toddler parking lot. I bet that's a busy household.










Or makes me remember, like this backyard full of balls. I thought about younger years when life required juggling many balls, and now in my 3rd Chapter years, I have more choice about how many balls to keep in the air at the same time.

Or makes my heart open like this welcoming front door.

And then I return home feeling more alive, blessed, and grateful.  

An Invitation
What did you see today that made you smile or laugh or feel open and blessed? I would love to know. 

Woodpecker Rhythms: Tuesday's Reflection

I found a new rhythm on one of my recent morning walks.

Woodpecker rhythm.

While walking in the lovely St Paul Seminary gardens I heard the tap, tap, tapppppping of a woodpecker. Much to my delight I was able to locate it on a nearby tree. A red-headed woodpecker.

I moved closer to the tree and the woodpecker moved around to the other side of the trunk. I followed it and discovered two red-headed woodpeckers. Both of them were tap, tap tap dancing their way across the stage and I felt like applauding.

If the woodpecker's tapping were Morse Code, what would the message be? 

When I returned home I looked up woodpeckers in the book Animal-Speak, The Spiritual and Magical Powers of creatures Great and Small by Ted Andrews and learned that in the Native American tradition woodpeckers are connected to the heartbeat of the Earth itself. I think I felt that heartbeat as I stood at the base of that tree looking up at the red-headed drummers. 

Andrews also says that woodpeckers are a signal to "drum some new changes and rhythms into your life." 
               ...it will become increasingly important to you
               to drum some new changes and rhythms into your
               life...Do what works for you in the manner best
               for you...the foundation is there. It is now safe
               to follow your own rhythms. (p. 207)

Actually, I am quite content with the current rhythm of my life and wouldn't mind if the patterns and routines I've established simply continued, but perhaps I need to question the status quo and open to new possibilities. Do I need to accelerate my rhythm or slow it down? What would a different rhythm feel like? 

These seem like good questions to consider when one's life circumstances change; for example, when retirement comes tapping into one's life. Or as we move closer and closer to a new season. What new rhythm is now possible? In this time of my life, what rhythm is waiting to pulse into my days? 

The woodpecker reminds me to be aware of different ways to move through my days--that there is more than one way to orchestrate my time. I have no idea what that means, but when I figure it out, I hope I remember to thank the red-headed drum majors. 

An Invitation
How well is your current rhythm working for you? Are you ready for a change. I would love to know. 

A Light in the Window: Thursday's Reflection

"We light a light."

Those are the opening words each day in the daily devotion I copy as part of my morning meditation. (Read  post here.) 


  


I have thought about those words during my morning walks. Have you noticed how the bright and clear first thing in the morning light of summer has faded somewhat and seems slower to slide into the day's beginnings? Now as we enter the day, we may need some extra light, and we turn on a lamp before settling in to read the newspaper or before walking into the kitchen to fix a cup of coffee. 

I am drawn to those lights, those signs of life. 

 When we moved to Ohio one fall many years ago, I often walked in our charming old neighborhood in the early evening. That was the time of day I felt most lonely, the interval between dinner preparations and when our son came home from football practice and my husband returned from a day's work. I filled the day with home tasks and errands and found ways to keep myself occupied until, that is, the hour when the day turned into evening. 

That's when I walked the winding, tree-lined streets of our new neighborhood. I often paused in front of homes where I noticed the light of a table lamp glowing through a window. "Does someone live in this house who will become my new best friend?" I mused. "Is there someone in this house who also waits for a football player son to return from practice, sweaty and hungry?" I wondered about the people who lived there, their story, the ways they gave each other light.

Seeing the occasional light inside a home somehow comforted me on those lonely days. I felt welcomed and even hopeful, as if someone was waiting and watching for me, too.

I write this post sitting at my desk in the garret and even though it is not necessary, I have turned on my desk lamp. Doing that simple act feels like a sign of hospitality, a kind of embrace for the work I will do today.

I know I need lamplight to guide my way, and I send blessings for the light and for all those who share their light. 

Light a light. 

An Invitation
Where have you found light recently? I would love to know. 

My New Spiritual Practice: Tuesday's Reflection

I have a new spiritual practice. New to me, that is.

My new spiritual practice requires only a blank book, a good pen, and a book of sacred words. Oh, and the inclination to hand copy word by word, page by page, the thoughts and insights and gifts of another. 

After my morning walk, I open both the journal and the sacred text to the pages where I left off the day before. I uncap my favorite fountain pen, and I begin to copy, carefully, using my best handwriting. I copy prayers and sections of scripture, and I do so without thinking too much about the words I form on the blank page. Instead, I allow the slow and deliberate movement of hand and eye across the page to join with my heart, to pulse in my mind. 

I am not a writer in these moments, but am, instead, a scribe. 

I think about the monks, the nuns of medieval times whose call in life was to create illuminated manuscripts of sacred texts, and I wonder if this task ever became tedious for them. Would they have preferred serving by gardening or teaching or singing? Did they experience this spiritual practice as prayer? 

I vaguely remember learning first how to print and then form cursive letters, repeating the letters over and over, trying to make my shaky, unpracticed attempts look just like the teacher's examples. As an adult I took a calligraphy class and loved learning different styles of the alphabet, like gothic and New English. I loved the swirls and flourishes and using a variety of pen nibs and inks as I copied favorite poems and sayings. I wasn't very good at it, but as a young mom, I treasured this quiet time. A contemplative time, although I don't think I used that word at the time. 

Now, however, I know this is contemplative time. A time to free my mind of worries and plans. A time to slow down. A time to give myself to something beyond my need to create, to be unique, to take my own experiences and attempt to breathe life into them for you, my readers. It is a time to connect with Spirit as it appears in the words under my fingertips. The paradox is that even as I don't choose the words, the words become mine. I know them, feel them. 

The book I have selected for this new spiritual practice is Celtic Treasure, Daily Scriptures and Prayers by J. Philip Newell. In the first days of this practice, I copied Newell's translation of sections from Genesis 1. "Great sea-monsters" was soon followed by "God saw that it was good," and I wondered how my personal monsters and demons are good. I copied "But in the dark a wind began to stir," again followed by "God saw that it was good," and I felt my inner yearnings. 


Sometimes my mind wanders, as it tends to do while meditating, and when that happens the letters look sloppy, too loose on the page, or I may skip over a word or change a word to what I think it should be. Sometimes I even drift to thoughts about the next book I will copy! When I realize I am no longer present, I lift my pen, take a deep breath, and return to the page, as if for the first time.

I adopted this practice only last week, after one of my spiritual directees mentioned it to me. Clearly, I have not been doing this long enough to consider it one of my practices. However, each morning I am eager to discover the words as they flow across the page. In the quiet I become calm, more centered and more aware of God's presence.  

An Invitation
Have you entered any new spiritual practice recently? I would love to know. 

Free Libraries: Thursday's Refections

Do you have Little Free Libraries in your neighborhood? We have many scattered throughout our neighborhood and somedays my morning walk is almost like going to the public library or a used bookstore.

Little Free Libraries, in case you aren't familiar with them, are waterproof boxes located in front yards of host "librarians." Anyone can leave books already read and no longer wanted in a personal home library. Near our front door we have a basket where we pile books ready to be donated. All Little Free Library books, by the way, are free and available to any one passing by. 

I find it difficult to pass by one of these Little Free Libraries without checking out the current selections. You never know what you may find. For example, recently, I found two books I had requested at the public library: Kristin Hannah's most recent book, Great Alone and A Piece of the World by Christina Baker Kline. Many others have requested these books, and who knows when it would have been my turn. My husband has had great luck, too, often returning from a walk with the latest page-turner. 

I don't always come home with a book, but often I come home with the possible portrait of a reader. Take a look at these books:

What do you see? I see a reader who has had breast cancer, but has survived and now passes on books that helped her and her family during that traumatic time. I see books that helped them cope. A book on Ignatian spirituality. A book about baking bread--such a sensual and loving task. A light novel when escape was needed. And speaking of escape--a journal about sailing. 

Now, of course, I have no way to know the real story or even if all these books were donated by the same person. I didn't take any of these books, nor did I have one to leave, but I did leave a whispered blessing both to the person or persons whose books these once were and even more to the person who will open this box and gasp, "Oh, these are just what I need." 

Such a gift these little libraries are! 

An Invitation
What do you do with the books you no longer want to keep on your shelves? I would love to know.

Superpowers: Tuesday's Reflection

My grandchildren have superpowers.

No doubt, if you have grandchildren, you have noticed they have superpowers, too. Or perhaps you observe the children in your neighborhood and are in awe of their superpowers.

Maren, age 15, who recently returned to camp from over two weeks of canoeing in the Quetico, always amazes me with her strength. Physical strength, yes, but emotional and spiritual strength, too. She takes her superpower with her wherever she goes, and wherever she goes, people recognize those powers. 

Peter, age 10, was nervous about going away for a week of sleep away camp, and I asked him to think about his superpowers. He seemed unsure about that, but thought his ability to make friends quickly was one of his superpowers. I agreed, but also suggested his curiosity is another superpower. That seemed to be a new thought for him. 

Lately, I have been aware of superpowers in others around me. Women, now widows after the deaths of their spouses of many years, who are creating new lives for themselves. I hear them state how they feel and what they need. I see newly retired friends making room in their lives for next steps. No step too small. I know people who face health challenges yes, with courage and hope, but also honesty and realism. All around me are people who are using their creative or intellectual gifts. In other words, I see examples of love and life all around. Superpowers! 

Experiences, like going away to camp, help the young people in our lives discover their strengths, and that is a good thing, for we continue to need our superpowers as we move through our lives. In fact, now seems like a good time to ask yourself, “What exactly are my superpowers? Now is not the time to be shy or modest. Actually, now is the time to acknowledge and appreciate and even nourish our superpowers. 

I'll start: One of my superpowers (for I assume, like you, I have more than one) is my ability to listen with the ears of my heart. I nourish that superpower by giving myself time to be alone when I can listen to my own inner voice, the whisper of Spirit. 

Now it's your turn. 

First, one more thing. When I made notes to myself about this post, I wrote SP as an abbreviation for superpower--the same abbreviation I use for "spiritual practices." Interesting, huh?

Now it's your turn. 

An Invitation

What are your superpowers? Which of my superpowers do you need right now? How do you nourish them? I would love to know. 

NOTE ABOUT MISSING COMMENTS:  I recently learned that I am not receiving all notifications about readers' comments. In the past I was sent an email that a comment awaited my approval. I then would read the comment and publish it. Well, apparently I have not always received that notification when someone attempted to make a comment. I really appreciate your comments and so apologize for not including them on my posts. I think those missing comments are now in place and hope I have corrected the situation from now on. 

Smile Time: Thursday's Reflection

I have not found many reasons to smile lately. That isn't quite accurate. Reasons for smiling are all around me--hugs from our grandson when he returned from camp, monarch butterflies playing in the garden, a lovely thank you note from a recent visitor to our home, a drive in the country where the corn reaches into the sky.

The problem is that sometimes I stop noticing. Or if I notice, it is only in passing. Instead, I focus on all that distresses and disturbs me. And there is quite the list. 

What I needed was something to surprise me into feeling glee. Almost giddy. 

One day this week a friend and I went to an exhibit at the American Swedish Institute in Minneapolis to see a new exhibit about the Swedish clothing and housewares designer, Gudrun Sjoden. I knew it would be colorful and fun, for I have seen ads for her clothing, but truly, I had no idea. 

I couldn't stop smiling. 

Now the clothes may not be your style, but frowning when you see them is not an option. They shout, "Let's play." Somehow I think wearing a piece of her clothing would make me not only happy, but more creative. Yes, there is joy in the world, and how grateful I am for the people who remind us of that fact. 







The morning after going to the exhibit, it was raining. I could have grabbed my umbrella and gone on my usual morning walk, but doing that felt like doing my duty. Exercising, no matter what. 

Instead, I decided to create my own joy. 
Bake cookies! How long has it been since I have done that? I decided to  bring cookies to our granddaughter when we visit her at camp this week. And that's what I did, smiling the whole time. 

An Invitation
What has made you smile recently? I would love to know.