REDONDOWRITER'S SACRED ORDINARY

SoulCollage®: Feminine Freedom

In my SoulCollage® cards, I often find myself working in certain colors much more than others. Many of my cards are purple, although I personally don't wear purple often. The other colors I use a lot are red and black together. 

I'm not a color analyst or symbolist, at least not consciously. I find purple to be a mysterious color, but I know this color often connotes both nobility and spirituality. To me it has always meant freedom.

Using SoulCollage terminology, I am the one who often feels stifled, shy, railed in, particularly about my body--largely because of my own fears and more recently because of the limitations of age. I was the one who was always chosen last for sports teams and sat in the corner at dances because I was simply terrorized I'd be discovered as a klutz. I am the one who always needed a drink or two to really relax enough in public to dance decently. My husband and I often danced; he was a great dancer but I was too self-conscious. I am the one, when newly separated and divorced more than two decades ago, would turn up the stereo at home blasting my favorite rock music and dance until I dropped--alone. I found freedom in the dancing--and I haven't done that for a long, long time. 

I am the one who then loved Mariane Athey-Levy's Movement Expression and used to attend her Santa Monica Friday evening classes in the 1990s. The dance studio was darkened and people of every age gathered and we moved, each in our own rhythm, getting used to our bodies. And then I discovered Gabrielle Roth's method, which I assume Movement Expression came from. I often danced to my video of "Sweat Your Prayers." But, I am also one who tires of the discipline of such classes and Santa Monica was so far. And dancing alone at home gets old after a while.

And now I am the one who hasn't danced in ever so long, alone or in a ballroom or studio. I am the one who feels sad that I have reverted to the woman who is no longer at home in my body.

I remember leading a Progoff National Intensive Journal workshop long ago where "Dialogue With the Body" was one of the exercises. When people read back, I was so deeply moved, but I particularly remember a woman in a wheelchair who wrote about the dancer she once had been. 

I'm not even going to ask this card a question because I just want to prop it up next to my journal and next week I'll see where it leads me. It is really pulling at me and I'm just too weary right now to be insightful.

SoulCollage: Death by Inquisition, Abuse, Excess and Rigidity

This is a SoulCollage card I made a few months ago and that I have not been able to name or really work with, but it haunts me. Without a title or a suit, I can't focus on what it means to me.

Two weeks ago I saw Angels and Demons and because I have this card laying out on my art table--and laying on my computer desktop--I have kept looking at it repeatedly. Angels and Demons was my favorite Dan Brown book of them all, although I had trouble with the film because of the violence. It's one thing to read it and quite another to see it. 

I am no longer a practicing Catholic, but I do go to an Epsicopal Church because I like the liturgy. I was a convert to Catholicism at 21 and in my heart of hearts, I suppose I will always be a Catholic on some level. 

Tonight I watched the PBS documentary "Soul Searching: The Journey of Thomas Merton" and I recalled so vividly how the Trappist monk Merton, another convert, had influenced me from the time he wrote "The Seven Storey Mountain." In the mid 1980s I wrote my master's thesis on "Dialogues With Thomas Merton." Merton's untimely death in 1968 has made all of us who he influenced wonder how he would have remained within the constraints of a Church that was having a hard time changing. 

This card reminds me of the inquisition, of child abuse, of clerical excess, of rigidity and morbidity. I almost want to name this corpse of a priest so I can personalize him and have a dialogue with him about all the things that trouble me about organized religion. 

And that's what SoulCollage is really all about. Our cards invite us to go beneath the surface. What would you name this card and what feelings does it evoke in you? 

Reintroduction to Anthony de Mello: Awareness

The terms of awakening or awareness are used by all the world's major religions and belief systems, and even though I "know" the importance of "staying awake", I often fall asleep for long periods of time--sometimes years. When the pupil is ready, the teacher comes--again. Today she came in the form of a spiritual directee I see occasionally and she was very excited by the writings of the late Fr. Anthony J. de Mello, S.J., particularly his book, "Awareness: The Perils and Opportunities of Reality."

In 1984, I was first introduced to de Mello by my long-time spiritual friend Sr. Brigid when she gave me a book called, "Sadhana: A Way to God, Christian Exercises in Eastern Form." Sr. B. is in a nursing home now, but I often reflect how ahead of her time she was and how many people she influenced over the years. Then a Jesuit priest friend gave me a birthday present in 1988: Anthony de Mello's "One Minute Wisdom."

I have been on a spiritual path my entire life, but the journey gets way-laid periodically and I fall asleep even though I regularly attend a church. In an effort to back-burner my own aging process, I've fallen into finding meaning in work and in volunteering, which gives me "purpose", but I'm not sure it isn't because I'm afraid I will become invisible. I also find pleasure (or distraction) in fiction, film, and the Internet, as well as family and friends. I collect books and have hundreds of really good spiritual titles, but my "study phase" seems to have passed.I have a good life. But, at least for today, I'm awake. Not bad on a beautiful warm, spring day.

When I Googled de Mello, I was surprised to learn that he died unexpectedly in 1987 of a heart attack at Fordham University as he was about to start a U.S. speaking/reteat tour--and yes, there are conspiracy theories, as there are about Thomas Merton's untimely death in 1967. Then I found out that in 1998, Cardinal Joseph Ratzinger, then the Prefect of the Congregation of the Doctrine of the Faith and now Pope, issued an official notification "Concerning the Writings of Father Anthony de Mello, S.J.," warning us of the direness of his heretical teachings. Well, I'll be darned. Maybe the inquisition is alive and well in a different form. Maybe Dan Brown isn't that far off with his books.

Here's a taste of de Mello from "Awareness", pp. 150-151. I am finding that being re-introduced to his work has jolted me awake, at least for today. There's nothing new here, but a reminder that I have been awake in the past and I have hope I'll stay awake longer. What that means to me is setting intention of seeing the sacred in the ordinary more often than I have been lately.

Can one be fully human without experiencing tragedy? The only tragedy there is in the world is ignorance; all evil comes from that. The only tragedy there is in the world is unwakefulness and unawareness. From them comes fear, and from fear comes comes everything else, but death is not a tragedy at all. Dying is wonderful; it's only horrible to people who have never understood life. It's only when you're afraid of life that you fear death. It's only dead people who fear death.

One of your American authors put it so well. He said awakening is the death of your belief in injustice and tragedy. The end of the world for a caterpillar is a butterfly for the master. Death is resurrection. We're talking not about some resurrection that will happen but about one that is happening right now. If you would die to the past, if you would die to every minute, you would be the person who is fully alive, because a fully alive person is one who is full of death.

We're always dying to things. We're always shedding everything in order to be fully alive and to be resurrected at every moment. The mystics, saints, and others make great efforts to wake people up. If they don't wake up, they're always going to have these other minor ills like hunger, wars, and violence. The greatest evil is sleeping people, ignorant people.

Anne Lindbergh's Gift From the Sea Still Relevant Today

Only those of us who are a "certain age" probably recall air pioneers Charles Lindbergh and his wife Anne Morrow Lindbergh. In my growing up years, however, both of them were household words. My dad worked in the aircraft industry and the kidnapping and subsequent murder of their first child in 1932 was a piece of history every American who lived in those times knew about. 

In 1955 Anne wrote Gift From the Sea--and in 1955 I graduated from high school, but I was too young to appreciate this book then. I never read it seriously until the early 1970s when I was raising three young children and wondering if I would ever have any private time again; the book really helped me clarify myself, motherhood, marriage and my relationships with others. I reread it periodically; I have a paperback, underlined, grungy to the max, from 1965. I often give this book to young women just entering the middle years of marriage. 

So, I was delighted when my book club chose this book for today. My book club is an unusual one; it was started by several young women as a spin off from my school's formation of The Friends of the Library in the mid-1990s. When I partially retired, I was invited to join. I am the oldest woman in the group. Today was a walk through the 1950s with several women dressing the part; all the snacks were '50s appropriate, and the beverages were served in those metal tumblers we all used then. The moderator had checked out several 1950s cultural books and we heard the highlights of those years, including the top literature of that decade. Another woman had done research on Anne and gave us the timeline of her life. Then we launched into the book. 

If you haven't read it, Anne shares her meditations on youth and age; love and marriage; peace, solitude and contentment as she set them down during a brief vacation by the sea. Drawing inspiration from the shells on the shore, Lindbergh’s musings on the shape of a woman’s life is relevant to men and women at any stage of life, but I suppose mostly women.

I was delighted to find an old NPR All Things Considered interview with Anne's youngest daughter Reeve after her mom's death in 2001 which was deeply touching to me. Half of my book is underlined, but in the section called Oyster, she writes about long-term marriages. This passage has stayed with me:

I am very fond of the oyster shell. It is humble and awkward and ugly. it is slate-colored and unsymmetrical. Its form is not primarily beautiful but functional...

But is it the permanent symbol of marriage? Should it -- any more than the double-sunrise shell -- last forever? The tide of life recedes. The house, with its bulging sleeping porches and sheds, begins little by little to empty. The children go away to school and then to marriage and lives of their own... What is one to do -- die of atrophy in an outstripped form? Or move on to another form, other experiences?

Married 27 years, divorced 23 years, I still mourn the idealism of what I thought marriage was. I still wonder if I just moved on to another form, or if I had been more patient, our problems would have ultimately resolved. But--I don't dwell on this a lot. I've had such a wonderful life, but a very different life than I had expected.

Gift From the Sea was written well over 50 years ago, but all of us in book group today were amazed at how relevant the book still is today. 

California Fire Season Starts Early: Soul Collage

Seeing a wildfire out of control is one of those things you never, ever forget. If you listen to the news, you know a large fire is burning in Santa Barbara--again, this one named Jesusita. According to the Santa Barbara News Press, this is the third fire there within an 11-month span. Maybe I'm imagining things, but the fire season seems to have become almost perpetual and I was born in Los Angeles. For those of you who know the Santa Barbara area, this particular fire area, which Gov. Schwarzenegger has proclaimed as a state of emergency, has burned more than 400 acres, destroyed more than a dozen homes and caused the evacuation of over 8,000 people as of 8 p.m. tonight. Our weather is unseasonably hot and the winds have been blowing throughout the day--and particularly in late afternoon and early evening. This is called the sundowner effect. 

What's even more disturbing about this fire is that it is close to State St., the main drag of Santa Barbara. I have a feeling our state is in for a very long fire season this year. Please send your prayers, thoughts, mojo, or whatever you believe in to the people and the firefighters. 

Which brings me to a recently created SoulCollage card I'm calling the Goddess of Fire in the Council suit. This is a kind of water bearer card, but I already have three water bearer cards in that suit.

I am the one who is always present with water, ingenuity and hope for those whose professions are to keep fire under control, or those trapped in unexpected fires. I know that rampant, uncontrolled fire can be deadly, but I also know that fire gives life. A house can be replaced, but human life cannot be replaced. 

If I could ask this goddess a question, it would be to ask how we can help to make our environments as safe as possible from unbidden fire. She actually whispered in my ear, go to the Santa Barbara County Fire Department site. I went there and found a guide to help preventing wildfires. 

Start Your Day With Angelina's "St. Patrick's Breastplate"

St. Patrick's Breastplate, or "I Arise Today" sung by Irish women and men brings me to tears of joy and hope every time I hear it. The song that did it for my mom was "Danny Boy." I'd like to share Angelina's version with you from YouTube. When I am doing my morning routine, I often listen to this song. It keeps me intentional and focused.

Thoughts on Easter Sunday

This morning I went to Christ Church Redondo Beach and it was standing room only for the Easter service. It's a sunny warm day in Southern California and I felt very connected to all the people there, although I didn't know most of them. After the service, there was an egg hunt for the children on the lawn and in the gardens. 

Our church is more than 110 years old with lots of history and hand-made objects and sacramentals made by long-gone parishoners.

Our cross was recently refinished by yet another parishoner and many of the families had their photos taken there after service. 

And to think this gorgeous space is less than a block from home. This morning I recalled yet another Mary Oliver poem as I reflected on the day. 

Mysteries, Yes

--- Mary Oliver 

Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous

to be understood.

How grass can be nourishing in the

mouths of the lambs.

How rivers and stones are forever

in allegiance with gravity

while we ourselves dream of rising.

How two hands touch and the bonds

will never be broken.

How people come, from delight or the

scars of damage,

to the comfort of a poem.

Let me keep my distance, always, from those

who think they have the answers.

Let me keep company always with those who say

"Look!" and laugh in astonishment,

and bow their heads.

Here are some photos of what I'll remember about Easter. My family is out of town, so this celebration at church with my extended family is what my day is about. 

This adorable 14-month-old was toddling all over the place picking up eggs. 

Helen, who is 98, feeds Mother Cat's Greyhound a goodie during coffee hour. Cat has started a prayer shawl ministry and Helen, who had a recent hospital stay, was the recipient of the first shawl. 

This little one was patiently waiting for the egg hunt to begin.

A sure sign of spring is when Sandy and Elizabeth's roses begin to bloom on the trellis in their front yard. Their home is next to the church. 

Musings on Maundy Thursday

Tonight I went to church for Maundy Thursday at Christ Episcopal Church, Redondo Beach. This is the annual ritual of the washing of the feet and after the liturgy is over, the altar is stripped of all sacramentals. Catholics call this Holy Thursday but Episcopals call it Maundy Thursday. This day is the Christian feast or holy day falling on the Thursday before Easter that commemorates the Last Supper of Jesus Christ with the Apostles. It is the fifth day of Holy Week, and is preceded by Holy Wednesday and followed by Good Friday.

The Old Testament references show that the washing of the feet was the first act on entering the tent or house after a journey. The Orientals wore only sandals, and this washing was refreshing as well as cleanly. In the case of ordinary people, the host furnished the water, and the guests washed their own feet, but in the richer houses, the washing was done by a slave. It was looked upon as the lowliest of all services. Jesus pointedly contrasts Simon's neglect of even giving Him water for His feet with the woman's washing His feet with tears and wiping them with her hair. On the last evening of His life, Jesus washed the disciples' feet. Their pride, heightened by the anticipations of place in the Messianic kingdom whose crisis they immediately expected, prevented their doing this service for each other. Possibly the same pride had expressed itself on this same evening in a controversy about places at table. Jesus, conscious of His divine dignity and against Peter's protest, performed for them this lowliest service. His act of humility actually cleansed their hearts of selfish ambition, killed their pride, and taught them the lesson of love.

I have gone to this service many, many times in my lifetime, but at the church where I now attend, it is a very intimate and optional activity. The congregation washes each other's feet. It is embarrassing for me; my feet are so misshapen as I've grown older and I rarely get a pedicure during the winter. Just getting my socks and shoes off--and back on--is very awkward because I do ache a lot from arthritis. But, I feel so loved and accepted when someone touches my feet, and I personally feel like a blessed servant when I'm washing someone else's feet, that it is well worth the discomfort. At Christ Church there are two large plastic basins and several white pitchers filled with warm lilac water to pour over the feet. The towels to dry with are pleasantly rough and white. When we make eye contact, it's like a jolt of electricity hits me from the crown chakra to the tips of my toes.

I brought the camera to photograph the ritual, but it seemed just too private a time to take photos. After communion, several women came forward and stripped the altar and we sat privately and quietly remembering the Garden of Gethsemane as it pertains to our own lives.

A favorite artist of mine is John Robert Swanson and here is his 1999 depiction of Jesus washing Peter's feet.

Though I am not a particularly religious Christian, Holy Week has always meant a lot to me. It's when I allow myself, I guess, to look at the passion of Christ and apply his triumph, suffering, death and resurrection to my own life and the lives of my loved ones. It's when I remind myself that life is in divine order even when it feels like it is crashing down around me. I am reminded of life's impermanency, the importance of living in the moment and being humble, and about letting go and letting God.

Palm Sunday - See Who You Are

This photo is from Bob Cornner's Facebook page; he is the rector of Christ Church in Redondo Beach and this is how the altar looked this morning. 

When he delivered communion he said, "See who you are, become what you see." It was a very moving experience for me and I wrote about it on my Facebook page. He replied, "St. Augustine, I believe, is the one to thank. I have always loved this way of delivering the bread. In saying it over and over again, I am brought closer to the reality of the transformation going on in each member of this parish family. Thank you for sharing. 

God's in the seeing and becoming,
Bob"

Prayer Wheels Aren't Just for Buddhists

I am not Buddhist, though my Christianity has been greatly enriched by Buddhism. The Four Noble Truths and the Eightfold Path dove tail with my own spiritual practices. I am a sensory person and spiritual externals, like a rosary, the Buddhist prayer flags in my patio, candles and incense, for example, help me center myself. My friends Bob and Chris recently returned from Tibet and I was very moved by their photos of prayer wheels. I have never seen an installation of prayer wheels but in many communities I guess they are common parts of the environment.

If you don't know, a prayer wheel is a cylindrical 'wheel' or wheels (Tibetan: 'khor) on a spindle made from metal, wood, stone, leather, or even coarse cotton. Traditionally, the mantra Om Mani Padme Hum is written in Sanskrit externally on the wheel. Also sometimes depicted are Dakinis, Protectors and very often the 8 auspicious symbols Ashtamangala. Inside this cylinder, written on paper or skin, are esoteric texts, usually invocations (dharani or mantra), the most common being that of Avalokitesvara. According to the Tibetan Buddhist tradition, spinning such a wheel will have much the same meritorious effect as orally reciting the prayers.

Imagine my delight when I went to the local park with my grandson Zach and his mom when they recently visited. Right in front of me was a large plastic prayer wheel installation although I know I am reading that into what the park planner thought was a toy. I'm always hunting for sacred ordinary in my daily rounds.

I don't want to buy a prayer wheel for home, but I would like to make one that invokes peace and harmony. After a Google search, I found one tutorial about making one from an Altoid tin, but that wasn't what I had in mind.

My search did turn up an Annie Dillard 1974 book "Tickets For a Prayer Wheel" which I'll look for at the library. 

I'm wondering if there are cylinder toys that could be adapted for home or yard, or toot-a-toot-toots. (That's what my kids called toilet paper and paper towel empty cardboard cylinders.)

Do any of you have any ideas you could share?

I don't mean to minimize the Buddhist meaning of prayer wheels. Below is a YouTube video showing a street installation in Khatmandu.