Labyrinth Surprises, a Post by Nancy L. Agneberg

I walked a labyrinth today. 

A labyrinth is an ancient sacred design with a simple pathway leading to and from a center on a single path. Unlike a maze, in which you can get lost, there are no tricks and no short cuts in a labyrinth. The way in is the way out. 

The Labyrinth as a Spiritual Tool
The spiritual practice of walking a labyrinth allows the mind to relax and become aware. By meditatively walking a labyrinth we can be led to ourselves and therefore, to a deeper relationship with God, the Sacred, the Divine. Walking a labyrinth can create balance and calm within or can mend your heart and help you find wholeness and healing. As you experience a labyrinth, you are invited to discover the sacred in everyday life. 

Choosing to Walk a  Labyrinth Today
As preparation for retirement, my husband and I have a plan: sell our home here in Madison and instead, rent an apartment here until he retires fully. At the same time we intend to buy a home in St Paul where the majority of our friends and family, including my 90 year old father, live.  A clear plan, but apparently, not so easy to accomplish. 

Our home has been on the market for well over a year. We have had more showings than I care to acknowledge. We have lowered the price more than once. We have had many people express interest, but the magic has not happened, and we are weary and discouraged. We need a break. 

Along with this ongoing stress, my father has had two surgeries recently, and we are in the process of moving him from his home of 40 plus years to a senior living apartment. He is willing and eager to do that, but all of you who have had this experience know the challenges. I repeat, we are weary and discouraged and we need a break! 

Today we took our house off the market. 

Today seemed a good day to walk a labyrinth.

Today's Labyrinth Experience

Madison Christian Community, located not far from our home, has an outdoor labyrinth, and that's where I headed. I must admit I didn't expect to see a labyrinth that appeared so untended and bare, but I mused that the state of the labyrinth might match my inner spirit at the moment. I stood on a slight hill above the labyrinth and thought about how easy it is to lose one's way, and I prayed I could find my center once again. 

Before walking the labyrinth, I sat on a nearby bench and thought about what I hoped to gain or learn as I walked. How marvelous it would be if the labyrinth were a fortune-teller gazing into a crystal ball. "My dear, I see a new house in your future. You will sell your home soon, very soon. Trust me." Instead, I prayed that this quiet time would help me restore some spiritual balance in my life. That I could find my own rhythm again. That this symbolic pilgrimage would help me build strength and energy for the months ahead. That I could be assured that our hopes and dreams, our plan, will be fulfilled. A lot to ask, and then I wrote in my journal one more request:

                       To be surprised. 

More than One Surprise.  

 Usually, when I walk a labyrinth it takes time to find my own rhythm and not feel wobbly on the narrow path. Normally, one is advised to walk the labyrinth slowly and deliberately, and that can take some focus and concentration. This time, however, I was surprised at how fully at ease I felt on the path. My arms hung easily and naturally at my sides, and I just walked as if I were strolling along my familiar neighborhood sidewalks. That was surprise #1.

Surprise #2 was discovering the clarity of this path. From a distance I had wondered if I would be able to find my way, for it looked so overgrown. Would I be able to see where to turn, for example? I was relieved to see how clear and distinct the path really was in spite of the weeds. I noted, however, my desire to tend the path, remove the dandelions, neaten the way. No surprise there!

Surprise #3 was how quickly I arrived at the approach to the center of the labyrinth. In past experiences I have been astounded by how long it seems to take to reach the center. I usually wonder if I have lost my way and may even have repeated part of the path. Often, when it seems I am almost there, the path swings further away from the center, and I begin to feel as if the center will never be attained. That was not true this time. I was so surprised when I arrived at the center before I expected to be there. 

 Entering the inner circle, I heard words whispered within, "Be prepared to be surprised." Being prepared and being surprised seem like opposites, but at the same time being prepared can mean being open to whatever surprises occur on the path. 

 As I walked out of the labyrinth, retracing the way in, I gave myself credit for being more balanced than I had been feeling, and I felt more energized and stronger than when I had started. I reminded myself to experience fully the path beneath my feet right now and to remember that what is worthwhile is not necessarily neat and well-tended. I rejoiced in the surprise.  

An Invitation
If you have walked a labyrinth, I would love to know your experience. I invite you to leave a comment. 

If you have not walked a labyrinth and would like to do so, here is how you can locate a labyrinth near you. Labyrinth Locator

I have written about previous labyrinth experiences before on my blogs. You may want to read Walking the Labyrinth at Chartres and Take Your Soul for a Walk.

Creativity and Visits from Mrs. Robin

I feel a surge of creative energy. Ideas are flowing:
* Topics for this blog,
* Possibilities for additional blogs,
* Plans for groups I would like to start here in Madison and/or in St Paul--a circle of women exploring their retirement years, a reflective writing group combining spirituality and writing practice, and spiritual direction groups, 
* Visions of writing projects, large and small,
*  Ways to do life review or journal writing workshops in senior living facilities.

I am almost hesitant to go for a walk or to meditate, for those quiet times often result in even more ideas, but then so does sitting on the front porch doing classwork for the online class on blogging I am taking or transcribing journal entries for one of my writing projects.

Where is this surge of creativity coming from? And why right now?


Perhaps the robin knows. Often when I am on the front porch and I glance away from my laptop screen or book page, I notice a robin perched on my car's side mirror.  I have started greeting this robin when I see it. "Good morning, Robin." "It's already afternoon, Robin." "I've had a busy day, Robin. What about you?" I enjoy its presence, and I wonder if the robin has a message for me.

Totems and Their Spiritual Messages

One of my most consulted books is Animal Speak, The Spiritual and Magical Powers of Creatures Great and Small by Ted Andrews. When I felt the frequent presence of a wolf in my dream life, I discovered that wolves are a symbol for "teacher," and I became more aware of how my essence is a teacher. When I realized how often I noticed hawks when I was walking or driving, I consulted the book yet again and learned that the hawk is a "messenger." The message has not always been clear, but I have been reminded to open to what was on the wing. At other times I have read the pages about herons, eagles,  turkeys, and bear. 

According to Native American spirituality, wolf and hawk and the others are my totems. Totems are sources of energy with which you may feel closely associated for a lifetime or for certain periods of your life. Totems can create awareness of yourself and your connection to Spirit.  

I wondered if Mrs. Robin is a new totem in my life.  Robin, says Andrews, is a symbol for the "spread of new growth." If a robin appears in your life, "expect new growth to occur in a variety of areas in your life." The book mentions the fact that robins can raise more than one brood a year, symbolizing the "activation of the creative life force." 

I feel a resurgence of the creative force in my life. 

I thought surely we would be moving from this house and downsizing into another by now. I thought my creative energies would be engaged fully into settling into a new home, but, alas, that has not happened. Instead, it seems I have an opening in the creative energy department. I have "found" time in which my creativity can thrive again. Perhaps I am coming out of the retirement cocoon I have experienced since moving to Madison five years ago.  

My husband says Mrs. Robin has a nest in the neighbor's magnolia tree. I accept that, but I also think she has an encouraging message for me. "I am here to remind you that you are not done and creativity is alive and well within you." "Thank you," I say.

An Invitation

I invite you to pay attention to animals that often occur physically in your life or when you meditate or dream. Consider the message they may have for you. And if your creativity needs a boost, look to the nearest robin! 

My Personal Cloister, a Post by Nancy L. Agneberg

With winter comes cave time; time to surround myself with darkness; an invitation to reflect and go deep. The light is out there and known, but not necessarily seen. In the cave I feel sheltered and protected, as I do the work of reflection. I welcome cave time, and only rarely do I wonder how many more days of cold and dark will there be. Cave time with its qualities of hiddenness and hibernation is a time of restoration and regeneration, along with a time to rest, if that is what is needed. Burrow in and allow the heart to find its own rhythm.
      I needed cave time, but somehow in these summer months, which most Wisconsinites yearn for all the rest of the year, that doesn't seem like the right image. I should be out in the sunshine, playing and bursting forth with relief we made it through another winter. What to do since I felt in my soul I need time to rest, restore, and release. And then I received a word. Don't you love when that happens? Cloister. 
     I am reading The Dancing Animal Woman, A Celebration of Life by Anne Hillman. Another example of the right book at the right time. I participated in a retreat she led over a year ago, and this book has been waiting for me on my shelf since then. Early in the book she finds herself in a quiet garden she describes as a "green cloister." What I needed was Cloister Time. I don't mean entering a monastery, hidden away from the world. Instead my personal cloister was slightly set apart from the world, where I could see the delicious greens and the ongoing growth as the days progressed from its first days of summer wonder to the expected days of summer's lushness and fullness. I could observe and enter in as I chose to and when I needed to. I could come and go as desired, knowing the cloister would remain in place. 
      In my cloister located on the front porch of our home, private unless I choose to greet passersby, I read and doze and write in my journal and pray and meditate and find my bearings. Another word from Anne Hillman. Hillman describes getting her bearings not in terms of getting back on top of things, not finding a direction or a destination, but experiencing the center. "Center was still. Empty. Yet filled with the present. Alive."
     One of my favorite books about spirituality is The Cloister Walk by Kathleen Norris in which she writes about her experiences as a resident in a Benedictine monastery. This morning I realized I, too, have a "cloister walk" right here at our home.
   

 This past weekend my husband extended a side garden, adding more stepping stones and bordering it with lavender plants, my favorite herb. While the path is short and in view of the neighbors, it still feels like a place set apart.  I walked this cloister walk several times this morning, pausing on each stone, offering a blessing. "This stone is for my father." This stone is for the loving gardener of this cloister walk." "This stone is for the as yet unknown buyer of this home who will inherit this cloister walk." I named family members and friends. I named myself. With each step on this cloister walk I felt more restored, more at ease and at rest, more centered.  As I returned to the porch, I prayed that I may be able to carry this cloistered center or is it centered cloister with me wherever I am. 

What does the word cloister mean to you? Where is your cloister and what does cloister time offer you? 

       

I'm a Bag Lady!, a post by Nancy L. Agneberg

I have a bag for every purpose: bags for grocery shopping and a heavy basket with leather handles for going to the farmers' market on Saturday morning; bags for each of my writing projects and an empty bag with "Paris" written on its side, perfect to toss a couple magazines, a book, maybe stationery for letter writing to have on a plane or the car or in a cafe. I have bags awaiting a specific purpose, big, small, fancy or simple. Some with memories of the gift-giver. Some pure luxury. 
     Years ago I participated on a variety of committees and boards and had a bag for each one. I would check my Franklin Planner (Remember that popular organizer?) each night and see what was on the schedule for the next day and set aside the appropriate bag. Social Ministry Committee. Church Council. Summit Hill House Tour. The system worked well for me.
     Now I live in two places--Madison and St Paul. Bags are definitely required. Our house is on the market and when a showing occurs I turn on all the lights and grab a bag and leave. I play my own version of the childhood memory game we used to play at Brownie meetings. "I'm going to my grandmother's house and in my bag (suitcase) I packed..." 
     Recently, my car was broken into and my purse, which I had UNWISELY left in the back seat while a friend and I enjoyed a river view and deep conversation, was stolen. One of those pure luxury bags. Money, credit cards, drivers license--all gone in 10 seconds the police officer said. Since then I have been dealing with the aftermath of this theft. Most everyone I have contacted has been helpful and empathic, except the one credit card person who asked me if I was having a nice day after I told her I was calling to report a stolen card (!!!).  
     The aftermath, however, involves much more than the financial loss and complications.  I have lost some confidence in my urban smarts and in my view of myself as someone who thinks ahead and considers carefully my current context. I am embarrassed and have even felt shame, especially when someone tells me what I should have done. I feel guilt for needing my husband's help during his busy day and also for marring the visit from an out of state friend. I feel more anger with myself, interestingly, than with the unknown person who did the deed. I feel flawed and inadequate. I messed up. What could I have been thinking? Well, clearly, I wasn't thinking.
     The first couple nights after the incident I replayed what I should have done over and over again. I told a friend I wasn't going to beat myself up about what had happened, but I was doing exactly that. So often when I have sat with someone in spiritual direction I have softly encouraged, "Be gentle with yourself." I forgot that wisdom when it came to myself, but I also knew I needed to explore the lessons of the stolen bag.  
     Here's what Debbie Ford in her book The Right Questions, Ten Essential Questions to Guide You to an Extraordinary Life says in the chapter titled "Will I Use this Situation as a Catalyst to Grow and Evolve or Will I Use It to Beat Myself Up?"
     We beat ourselves up by rehashing an event over and over in our mind, analyzing why we didn't do it better and how we could have done it differently We beat ourselves up by spending our precious energy trying to figure out how we could have avoided the situation altogether...we always have a choice to use each event to learn and grow or to use it against ourselves...
     Everything in this life can be used to transform us, to bring us closer to our spiritual essence and our dreams. In other words, either we are using life in our favor or we are using it against ourselves. This is what is meant by the saying 'Life is a teacher to the wise man and an enemy to the fool.' By seeing life as a teacher, we transcend the pain and suffering we put on ourselves. And then we can spend our energy creating what we want rather than wasting it by rehashing the past.
     The Right Question will immediately shift our perspective from one of self-doubt or recrimination to one of open minded learning. 
     So what am I learning? I am learning how often I beat myself up. I chastise myself when I spill something or forget something or don't use my time as well as I think I should or eat more than I should or am not present to another person or...... On and on it goes. I beat myself up when I mess up, and I mess up often. Writer Joyce Rupp reminds me to greet myself mercifully." 
     I imagine if I had been more mindful in the moment I locked the car door without taking my purse with me, I would not have found a broken window when we returned to the car and therefore, I hope I will be more mindful, more present, but the lesson right now is to remember that I am human, and humans mess up. My lesson is to do what needs to be done and move on.
     I am going to my grandmother's house and in my bag I packed forgiveness, gentleness, humility, mercy, and mindfulness. What's in your bag? 


  

Summer Reading, a post by Nancy L. Agneberg

One of my innocent pleasures is collecting and then creating my own summer reading lists. Book recommendations at any time of the year are always pleasurable, but there is something seductive about the idea that there will be even more time for reading in the summer. 
      Where did that notion come from? I wonder if it started when I was a child and June, July, and August meant open, no school days to decide how I wanted to spend or waste my time.  I recall days entirely spent reading; days when I simply changed my location from bedroom to backyard lawn chair, to basement rec room, if it was really hot, to a chair in the living room, which my mother said I wore out one summer, and then back to my bedroom at night. Often we moved in the summer, which usually meant no friends and no planned activities until school started in the fall. Except for babysitting my younger brother and sister, my time was my own. 
     Summers seem busier now, but still the Summer Reading list beckons. National Public Radio offers lists, as does the New York Times, of course, and local newspapers and favorite magazines. Book stores and libraries label tables "Summer Reading."  Just Google summer reading lists, and you will be amazed by all the possibilities.  As a list junkie, I am willing to consider and consult them all. 
     Here's my list, knowing I won't be able to read them all and knowing I will add other titles along the way. (no particular order)
Fiction
1.  Z, A Novel of Zelda Fitzgerald by Therese Anne Fowler
2.  How It All Began by Elizabeth Berg
3.  Mission to Paris by Alan Furst
4.  Let the Great World Spin by Colum McCann
5.  The Pleasing Hour by Lily King
6.  Vacationland by Sarah Stonich
7.  Istanbul Passage by Joseph Kanon
8.  The Woman Upstairs by Claire Messud
9.  Summer by Edith Wharton
NonFiction
1.  Willa Cather's Letters (Bruce and I are planning a road trip to New Mexico this fall and will route ourselves to Red Cloud, Nebraska, her birthplace. I not only want to read her letters but of course reread my favorite Cather novels--more titles for the fiction list, oh my!) 
2. The Monk and the Philosopher, A Father and Son Discuss the Meaning of Life by Jean-Francois Revel and Matthieu Ricard
3. Paris to the Pyranees, A Skeptic Pilgrim Walks the Way of Saint James by David Downie
4. Paris, Paris: Journey into the City of Light by David Downie
5. Team of Rivals, The Political Genius of Abraham Lincoln by Doris Kearns Goodwin (Now that everyone else has read it, but since a friend and I are planning a trip to Springfield, Illinois, where Lincoln lived, I will dig in.) 
     In addition to my list of what I intend to read, here's a list of what I have read recently. Lately, I have had a run of reading memorable novels. 
1. And the Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini
2. Talk Before Sleep by Elizabeth Berg
3. The Summer of the Bear by Bella Pollen
4. A Lady Cyclist's Guide to the Kashgar by Susanne Joinson
5. Benediction by Kent Haruf
6. The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry by Rachel Joyce
One nonfiction book needs to be mentioned, too--Lean In, Women, Work and The Will to Lead by Sheryl Sandberg

One more recommendation goes beyond summer reading lists:  BookWomen, A Reader's Community For Those Who Love Women's Words is published six times a year by Minnesota Women's Press and is a wonderful source for titles and discussion about books and reading. (www.womenspress.com) The most recent issue focused on the topic of changing reading habits. Does what we read change as we get older, for example. Many women commented that they are reading more nonfiction than when they were younger. I have noticed that over the course of a year my fiction/nonfiction titles are more balanced than when I was younger and primarily preferring fiction. An intriguing exploration. How about you?

What's on your summer reading list? My list is open-ended and I am always open to additions. Now, where's my hammock? 
  

Living, Not Visiting, a Post by Nancy L. Agnebe

  
I bought an ironing board and iron for our apartment. 





I arranged for Internet here, too.

The bookshelf is becoming full. 











     I guess we live here and don't just visit here. More and more I realize my life is here as well as in Madison. In the recent past having an apartment here felt like a transition, a symbol of moving eventually, post Bruce's retirement, from Madison to St. Paul. An interim place while we attempt to sell our house and before we buy a house in St Paul. We would dash in for the weekend, clothes on hangars (No need for an iron!), and our dance card full of events and dates with friends and family. The grandkids would be excited to see us, and the two days would feel like a mini-vacation. 
     Gradually, there has been a shift, a feeling of being at home. A sense of normalcy. I have a full set of make-up and skin and haircut products here. We each have slippers and a robe in our closets. There is Diet Coke and wine in the refrigerator (and not much else) and bagels in the freezer. The shift, however, became more apparent over the weeks I spent here before and after Dad's surgery. I am aware that I will be here more frequently as we help Dad make the transition into senior living and then ready his house for sale, but the shift from visiting to living here is not just about amount of time spent here.  That is a factor for sure, but the shift is more about living fully right now. Living life fully and not just being a visitor in my own life. 
     As part of a new writing project I have been re-reading the journals I kept when we moved from Minnesota to Shaker Heights, Ohio, in 1994. A major change for us all, and while it was our choice, responding to an exciting career opportunity for Bruce, it was not without difficulties. Soon after we moved there, I experienced some unexplainable leg pain. My right leg ached for weeks until I invited myself to meditate about the pain. During the meditation I saw myself facing north with one leg stretched across Ohio and Illinois and Wisconsin and reaching into Minnesota. Home. The other was tenuously perched in Ohio. Uncomfortable to say the least. What I needed to do was pull my right leg into Ohio. I needed to plant myself in Ohio, and until I did, I could not have much of a life there. With that realization my leg pain disappeared, and I opened to a new stage in my life. 
     This transition is different. It is true that I think longingly about living in St Paul full-time, and I admit to a number of plans for my St Paul life. I would love to start a small spiritual direction practice here--just a few clients. I think about starting a contemplative writing group, my own version of Miriam Hall's gifted writing groups in Madison. I think about volunteer opportunities, perhaps doing life review or journal writing in senior living facilities. I have registered to take a class at The Loft Literary Center this summer and look forward to more involvement there. The list is growing. However, I want to be clear. My life in Madison will continue to grow and satisfy. For example, I intend to start a contemplative retirement circle in Madison in the fall, and wherever I am, I will write. Wherever I am, I will connect with friends and family. Wherever I am, I intend to be open to life in that time and place. 
      Once again the lesson, the hope, is to Live Now. Live in the Present. Live in the Moment. Wherever you are. 

In what ways is life offering you the opportunity to Live Now?

Holy Encounters, a Post by Nancy L. Agneberg

The last two weeks have been ones filled with Holy Encounters. 

"When you meet anyone, remember it is a holy encounter. As you see him, you will see yourself. As you treat him, you will treat yourself. As you think of him, you will think of yourself. Never forget this, for in him, you will find yourself or lose yourself." A Course in Miracles, p. 132. 

     I have been home from Minnesota for almost  two weeks and in that time have re-connected with many special people in my life. What I thought I most needed was quiet, alone time to read and meditate and write, and I am grateful for those times and clearly, did need chunks of solitude, but what surprised me was my need to spend time with loved ones here. 

    Last night dear friends joined us on our porch for wine and appetizers. We have missed each other these last months because of trips and work and family commitments, but much to our delight we were all free for the evening. We have not entertained much during these never-ending months of having our house on the market, and I have missed doing so. Originally, I planned just to go the wine and cheese and cracker route, keeping things simple just in case there was a last minute showing scheduled, but I changed my mind. I wanted to anticipate the company, the Holy Encounter, by doing something quite unholy on the surface--messing up the kitchen. I got out some cookbooks and recipe files and got busy, almost humming in the process. Greek croustade (phyllo with a spinach and cheese filling, roasted shrimp and cocktail sauce, roasted cashews with rosemary, cayenne, and brown sugar, and hummus with pita crackers. Oh, and to drink, kir (white wine and cassis--very pretty.) The napkins said "THIS HOME RUNS ON LOVE, LAUGHTER AND LOTS OF WINE." The evening would have been just as full of laughter and love without the extra time spent in preparation, but every bit of measuring and chopping and mixing and then washing and drying reminded me of my good fortune of having so many special people in my life. 

"Relationships are meaningful because they are opportunities to expand our hearts and become more deeply loving." A Return to Love by Marianne Williamson, p. 138.

     The Holy Encounters of this last week included a weekend in Chicago with our son and daughter-in-love who live in Cleveland. I rejoiced in the pleasure of this adult relationship, liking them as much as I love them. Two female friends here made time in their week for me, and I thought about how it wasn't really that long ago that I didn't know them, and now they are necessary people in my Madison life, and I miss them when I am not here. Another friend and I hugged hard after a space in our friendship and realized our hearts had maintained crucial room for one another. Out of town friends here for a convention included us in their busy agenda, and we added onto our friendship of over 40 years. Even my much needed haircut felt Holy to me as we updated one another on our lives, and I recalled how I found her without anyone's recommendation when we moved here--just took a chance--and now she is one of my special "peeps." 

     And, of course, time with my husband, for "Partners are meant to have a priestly role in each other's lives. They are meant to help each other access the highest parts within themselves." A Return to Love, p. 127. The best kind of Holy Encounter.

     I returned from Minnesota relieved at my father's healing, but at the same time quite depleted, and these two weeks have been ones in which I have filled with the energy of so many Holy Encounters. There are others here I have not had a chance to connect with, except for continuing to hold them in my heart. Our day will come, as my father always says. But now I prepare to return to Minnesota for two more weeks, weeks that will be filled with a variety of activities, including grandchildren time, sister time, daughter time, father time, and a visit from a dear out of town friend. I return even more aware of the gifts of Holy Encounters. 

     "Relationships exist to hasten our walk to God." A Return to Love, p. 92.

Note: Sometimes a Holy Encounter is rediscovering a favorite and influential book from the past. That's what happened while reading a new book by Richard Rohr. He quoted Marianne Williamson in her book A Return to Love, and I immediately went to my bookshelf and immersed myself in her wisdom.

I would love to know about your experience with Holy Encounters.  I invite your comments.