"Where Does the Temple Begin, Where Does it End?"

I was riding my bike with a group of women on the Katy Trail two weeks ago. It was a hot, humid Missouri day. Everything was moving slow, including us. We watched turtles slowly cross the trail and noticed the beautiful wild flowers on the banks. It was a wonderful few hours of taking time to notice the sacredness of the journey. I remembered one of Mary Oliver’s poems “Where Does the Temple Begin, Where Does it End?” I thought of my writing and how long it has been since I’ve posted something on my blog.

My purpose in writing is to help me be more conscious of finding the sacredness in common places and to learn more about dwelling there. For me that means slowing down in order to see and listen deeper – a process of reconnecting my soul with all that surrounds me. Although I’ve not been able to precisely define sacred , I think it’s experiencing the joy of life itself.

I hope I’ve captured a little of the joy of the Katy Trail "temple" in the photos below.

At the end of our ride, my daughter and I were astonished as we stood still and listened to the meadowlark sing its benediction for our ride.

I would love to hear what you’ve noticed in the common places and what you're learning about dwelling there. Ponder these words of Emerson....

"We see the world piece by piece,
as the sun, the moon,
the animal, the tree, but the
whole, of which these
are the shining parts, is the soul."

Renewal

I’ve been hibernating this winter…..more than any other winter that I can remember. The snow and cold that crossed the country kept us housebound for a few days so I’ve felt a little like a bear (except I don’t think they eat during hibernation).

Even though bears have been extinct in Ireland for a thousand years, I remember a cave I visited there that had a formation of a “nest” where the bears hibernated. It was a wonderful symbol of the cycles of life – a reminder that going into the dark to rest, renew and refresh can be a good thing.

There’s a part of me that feels drawn to the dark and another part that resists it. There is just a little spark of excitement at the possibility of this being a lovely time and a little wondering if I’m going to miss something that’s going on outside. I usually end up discovering that this time of hibernation has done its work of restoration.

I value both the inner and outer times – they help me maintain the balance in my life and I like the freedom of knowing I can live with the tension of “holding” both worlds.

We all have different reasons and ways of entering the dark. Sometimes it’s helpful to have a guide....poetry has been one of mine. Robert Bly translated this one of Rainer Maria Rilke.

SUNSET

Slowly the west reaches for clothes of new colors
which it passes to a row of ancient trees.
You look, and soon these two worlds both leave you,
one part climbs toward heaven, one sinks to earth,

leaving you, not really belonging to either,
not so hopelessly dark as that house that is silent,
not so unswervingly given to the eternal as that thing
that turns to a star each night and climbs –

leaving you (it is impossible to untangle the threads)
your own life, timid and standing high and growing,
so that, sometimes blocked in, sometimes reaching out,
one moment your life is a stone in you, and the next, a star.

Rainer Maria Rilke

What has this winter been like for you? Have you hibernated?
Who are the guides for your journey? Who offers support for you as you seek
to know yourself better?

Fire In The Hearth

Wood fires burning….
I’m wrapped up in the warmth of the fire
lifting and stirring
bringing the flame of the fire to life again.

Peat fires burning….
My Celtic sister lifting and stirring
the flame of love she will keep burning for
herself, her family, the whole world.

At the end of her day she’s on her knees
“smooring” or smothering the fire
to let it rest…not to extinguish ...
making sure the spark is still there

At the end of my day, I creep out of bed
to spend a few more minutes
wrapped in the warmth of the fire
not wanting to leave while the spark is still there.

I’ve been “smooring” or smothering my flame this Winter in order to pause, reflect, rest and be renewed. I've been asking myself:

What are the ways I can lift my “peat” in order to come to life again?

What does the first flickering of the flame symbolize for me?

Would you share with me how this time of Winter has “smoored” or stirred you?

The Life You're Living.......

I’ve been thinking today about my good friend and my aunt…..both of whom taught me a lot about having fun. They knew the importance of doing everyday things with a spirit of fun and sacredness…..although I’m not sure that either of them would have thought of it that way….as sacred. And, I don’t remember either of them wondering aloud “Am I on the right path?” or “What is the meaning of my life?”

They were living each moment to its fullest. It wasn’t just in the big things like family, meaningful work and travel. It was in the little things….. the time before dinner….sitting down to listen and talk with family or friends…..using cloth napkins at every meal….lighting a candle for dinner – even when there are no guests.

I think they just lived each day with intention. Having the ability to live that way can energize and fulfill us while enhancing the lives of those around us.

One of the best ways to live your life with intention is to listen to yourself and others deeply. What resonates for you? I’ve decided I don’t want to wake up when I’m 70 and discover that I’ve been living someone else’s life. I want to be what God has created me to be….fully myself.

Living with intention doesn’t mean, of course, that we will be spared from mistakes or suffering; however, it does mean that we have been involved in making our lives more soulful.

What kind of intentional rituals can you create that will give you energy? An exercise that has been helpful for me is to imagine myself 20 years from now…..what would that 87 year old woman be telling me? What kind of advice would she be giving me on how to be living my life right now? Try it – imagine yourself 20 years from now. What would that older you be telling you? Make some notes and refer back to them often. I'd love for you to share with me and other readers.

Living your life with intention isn’t easy……is it worth doing? Absolutely!

A White Christmas in Oklahoma

We had a wonder-full white Christmas in Oklahoma this year. (a record-breaking 14 inches) We kept the home fires burning....celebrated the birth of Jesus.....each other..... and the beautiful cardinals in our backyard. The first few photos were taken during the Christmas Eve blizzard,,,,the others were taken the day after Christmas. I hope you enjoy!

I wish all a happy, peaceful and loving 2010.

"Love is Day Labor...."

Audrey Streetman is an author, published poet and a "sharer" in the sacred journey. Here are some of her ponderings and a poem. Thank you Audrey.

"How special to be a guest on your blog. I was reflecting on our lunch last week: the energized conversation of two women who connected, not just at the heart, but at the level of the ear. We heard each other!

I came home and immediately pulled from the bookshelf Sue Monk Kidd’s “The Dance of the Dissident Daughter,” a book about one woman’s journey from the Christian tradition to the Sacred Feminine. I re-read the many underlined passages and felt energized all over again.

I asked myself (and not for the first time) the odd question: what does it mean to be spiritual as a woman? It’s an easy cliché to say...it’s the hard labor of giving birth.... but it’s the best metaphor I know.

Rainer Maria Rilke said “love is day labor, day labor” and giving birth to yourself IS an act of Love that comes with hard labor in the dark with only a book for a flashlight. And whatever book you are reading at the time, it’s almost certain it will not be the Bible, but a book written by a woman who is taking the journey. And I use the present tense – is taking – because the journey is never over. In our culture where the feminine is devalued, how easy it is to fall back, to want to “reupholster that old rut.”

So thank you for reminding me that my poetry reflects my journey to the Sacred Feminine, and to incorporate it into my memoir will affirm that I continue to labor with women everywhere as consciousness rises up from the well. "

DIVINE CHILD

In the fullness
of time

words woven
by the wind

caress the mouth
with a hot breath

and at the breast
the baby sleeps

lips slightly apart
wet and sticky

her tiny hand
extended palm up

outward into the world.

It's Better to Jump the Abyss Than to Reupholster Your Rut

Two years ago, as I was preparing for a new and courageous experience ….by myself……in northern California…..I called a friend and expressed some anxiety to her about what I was doing. She said “Julane, It’s better to jump the abyss than to reupholster your rut”. “You’re right” I said, “I love it” and continued on down the road to an important and valuable experience.

It was 1949……..I was 7 years old…. and in the summers our weekly treat was to go to town on Sunday afternoons to the swimming pool. First we had to go to church and then eat Sunday dinner and then Dad had to read the Sunday paper. We thought the time would never come when we would climb in our Chevy and drive the 7 miles to town. One unforgettable Sunday afternoon, I decided it was time to jump off the high diving board. Dad and Mom were sitting on the benches outside the pool , I climbed the ladder, walked to the end of the diving board and shook with fear. I looked at my Dad and heard him yell “Go on…..you can do it!”

Obviously, at that young age of 7 my ruts weren’t very deep….. and I’m sure I’ve reupholstered my rut many times since then. Most of the time though, I’m willing to take risks, try new things and be open to new adventures (while shaking in my boots).

What do you do to nudge yourself in to jumping the abyss rather than reupholstering your rut? (I have to admit that the rut feels really good and it's a treat to snuggle down in and stay there for a while!)

I'd love to have you share your thoughts and thanks, Robert, for sharing this old picture of a "good time place".