A Dark Day

A friend of mine, battling breast cancer, has a beautiful blog on which she almost never says anything negative, though she's been through hell. I really admire her for that. And though I know comparisons aren't really helpful, I wish I could be so positive in all my sharing.

But today I felt disappointed, disillusioned, weary of the lonely struggle, fearful for the country I love, sick about all the hatred that is being spewed and apparently believed by some, sad because I strongly disagree with some friends and family whom I dearly love. I'm feeling too busy and I'm not even involved in that much. Today it feels like everyone I talk to is hassled, anxious, over-committed, or guarded in even expressing how they feel.

So today's writing probably doesn't specifically relate to "Prayer, Play or Politics". It's just one woman's honest lament. And maybe what I am most tired of is advice about how I "should" rise above it all, not let anything get me down, never give up. Some days I just have to give up--for a little while. It's hard for me to understand how anyone can keep a totally cheerful perspective when they and those they love are in pain and anguish and confusion and fear. Also, this week marks the 75th anniversary of my late husband's birth. So that's another good reason to be sad, don't you think?

But tomorrow? Well, I'll look at that Carol, Song of Joy, signature and I'll try once more to live up to it, knowing that the Spirit of Life and Love won't abandon me.

Meanwhile, remember (I tell myself) to breathe, listen, look, laugh and love!

"Over and over announcing your place in the family of things."

I enjoy poetry more and more as I age and Mary Oliver is a favorite. On this beautiful "Lord's Day", as my dear clergy uncle called it, I'd like to share one of her creations.

WILD GEESE
You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese,
harsh and exciting--
over and over announcing
your place in the family of things.

Today I worshiped at a church where I occasionally preach and where I have a number of dear friends. They were having a Homecoming Sunday and I knew I wanted to be part of it. For these people have received me with warmth and respect and my humble words have meant something to them. It is a wonderful grace to have another church home in which I feel fully accepted as part of the "family of things."

It is a United Church of Christ, by the way. The same denomination as Barack Obama, with whom I am proud to stand. Having had the privilege of seeing and hearing him speak this week, I am grateful such a man is running for President of this mixed up country of ours. And I pray he will win and challenge us all to greater understanding, generosity of spirit, and peaceful, humble communion with the whole world.

Thanks again for checking out this blog.
Remember to breathe, listen, look, laugh and love!

You are an artist, too!

If you know me, you may be surprised when I say "I am an artist." But I am; and so are you. Br. David Stendl-Rast of the Gratefulness website listed below, said something like: most people say an artist is a special sort of person, but actually, every person is a special sort of artist.

I went to an art and spirituality retreat yesterday, which reaffirmed that concept. God is THE Creator; we are made in the image of God; we, too, are creators. But lots of things get in our way or we allow them to. (Oops! There's that poor grammar again!)

Since I took a class using"The Artist's Way" by Julia Cameron, I have increasingly allowed my creativity to come forth in ways large and small. Part of that shift came from getting past my "blurts", as she calls them. You'll recognize them: I'm not artistic; other people are much better; everything worth writing has already been written; who do you think you are; I don't have time; I don't have the money; others will make fun of me. On and on they go. I expect you have a set of your own. Very effective, too. The Dark Forces probably delight in these barriers which prevent us from gifting the world with what we uniquely have to offer.

When I was in grade school, "art" meant copying something "real", like greeting card picture, or coloring neatly a mimeographed figure, or gluing cotton batting on a rabbit at Easter time. Everything was prescribed and was either right or wrong. Mine never measured up. Besides which, I had a particularly gifted cousin about my age with whom I was unfavorably compared. So I always knew I couldn't draw/paint/whatever. Now I could play the piano and sing, but I didn't think of that as artistry. I could write, but...I couldn't dance. In each case, I tried too hard to "do it right."

That's why, dear reader, it has been a long journey to the place where I would have the freedom and the confidence to start a blog or paint a picture (yesterday it was finger paints. Whee!!). But it's in there and it's pouring out, even at this stage of my life.

I hope you're letting your creativity loose, too. We all need you.

Thanks for reading. Meanwhile, remember to breathe, listen, look, laugh and love!

I Confess

OK. Before we get too far together, it's time for me to make a confession. Sometimes I'm dishonest. Yup! When I was 5, I stole a stick of bubble gum from the grocery store, proceeding to chew it on the way home with my mother in the car. Guess I thought she wouldn't notice.

And when I was 14, my friend and I stole a pack of cigarettes from the neighborhood grocery. Didn't occur to us that the grocer would report this act to her mother. And we would have paid for them gladly, but of course we weren't supposed to be smoking, right?

This gets worse. I regularly KEEP printed return address labels and USE them, without sending a contribution to the dear people who wanted so much for me to have them. I mean, did I ask for them? Noooooo. Oh, there's more, but that's all you're going to hear about!

Got anything you could confess?

Ever break or at least twist the rules, like on your tax return?
Ever sort of cheat (even if only in your heart) on your spouse?
Ever break the law, like when you're driving?

I mean, come on. We are ALL sinners. Besides, the Bible says so; it must be true.

So my point today is: I love being self-righteous. I love seeing those I dislike (read loathe) breaking the rules, exhibiting their greed, their hypocrisy. And these last two weeks it's been especially fun, hasn't it? Oh, except that regardless of the joy of seeing others' chickens come home to roost, I know we're all connected.

I grew up believing that we are all individuals. Isn't that the American philosophy? Any working together (even though my farmer father and his neighbors shared machinery and helped each other thresh grain and put up silage) meant that dreaded word SOCIALISM. And if things became really cooperative and communal, the people involved must be Communists, the dreaded reds.

But after years of experience, I understand, even when I don't want to, that everything, everything, is connected. So if I screw up, it affects you to some degree. Sadly, when an entire nation succumbs to it's rationalized greed, everyone is hurt. We are ALL responsible and we ALL must change. The only leader in sight that might have the courage to speak that to us as a nation is Barack Obama. I pray he will get that opportunity.

Blessings for this night. Remember to breathe, listen, look, laugh and love!