Following the Wind

Not a good picture, but you get my drift...

The wind blows where it pleases; you can hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit. Jn. 3:18

For years, I would receive a Scripture from Godde for the new year, but it’s been a long time since I’ve read the Bible and gotten any “word” from Godde, let along a verse for the year.

But it happened this morning. The wind has been blowing so much for a while now. In times past, I would have asked Godde what the wind meant, but I haven’t done that for a while, either. So a few days ago, I asked, “What’s with all the wind. It’s leaving such a mess behind (broken branches and fallen palm fronds everywhere!)…so, tell me, what’s with all the wind?”

This morning as I read in John, I came upon this verse in John 3:8, The wind blows where it pleases; you can hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit.

And it was one of those synchronistic moments when heaven and earth seemed to meet, and I “knew” the word was from Godde and for me and for this new year.

One of my joys is to take note of the numbers used in the Bible, knowing that to the Hebrew/Greek writers of Scripture, many numbers were symbolic and were hidden numerical codes giving the reader “new light” on a passage. The number 3 is a number representing Godde and Godde’s presence, and the number 8 is the number for new beginnings, new birth, “newness”.

So the numbering of the John 3:8 passage and the synchronistic discussion of the wind, along with a “knowing” deep inside of me, helped me receive this passage from Godde for this year of 2008.

And the mess the wind leaves behind—seems to be the story of my journey. I know that my call for this new year has been to cut some ties so that I can be free to follow the Spirit wherever. People don’t seem to understand—especially church folk, but I can’t follow the Wind if I have obligations elsewhere. So once again, I seem to find myself “loose” and “on the move”. Where will I wind up this time? Who knows, but the Wind is refreshing; I recognize it, and I “know” that I’m once again journeying with the Spirit. And it feels good and “right”.

The Year in Review

2007 In Review

January – my first art show is hung, and the reception held. Actually there are 4 of us—the culmination of over a year of hard work. It is a beautiful show. Some of my favorite people are unable to attend, but, still, it is a beautiful show. I feel like Cinderella at the ball: glad to be here, but still not too sure it’s real.

A friend looses a grandson to this terrible war in Iraq—I hate this war; I hate all war. This was the closest that this war in Iraq has come to touching my own life. I feel some of my friend’s pain.

In January our Circle meets for the first time, never realizing what bonds of sisterhood will be created, what friendships will be made—or that we will be doing our own show a year later. Here’s to a beautiful group of sisters—what joy they have brought me this last year: The Artist Way Circle!!!

February – oh my…Valentine’s Day brings a real test this year. News that rattles my soul and unsettles me and my family. But life goes on, and the news becomes bearable. And we laugh again, and discover that love really is big enough to be so inclusive. This seems to be a year that will remove some of our rose-colored glasses. And we will discover that the world is still beautiful, that Godde is still really good, and that the All really is ALL, even what we’ve always called “not good”.

A few of my other “Sisters”, the Lace Sisters meet at the Land of Ease for a “girlfriend” weekend—and love on each other again. It is beautiful and needed.

March – Ken Hosmer does a watercolor workshop here, and it is a huge success.

April – The Artist Way Circle takes a day-trip to Houston to see a beautiful exhibit of the 18th-19th Century Impressionist Artists and winds up having a splendid lunch together. These women are treasures to my life right now. A bond is growing, and I find myself looking forward to our times together—like a healing balm those times are.

April also brings a little side-trip to Corpus to visit Jim’s eldest. It’s lovely when your kids grow up and invite you for a visit. Even lovelier when the visit turns out to be so good, and you realize your children are grown, and doing well, and have started to become friends instead of “your children”. That’s delicious.

Up, up and away! Riding in an airplane—and a hot-air balloon! Jim and I take a belated 15th anniversary trip to San Francisco and points north. It’s wonderful. I LOVE SF, I love California! We delight in the hairpin turns of Hwy. 1, spend a couple of nights in the mountains of Northern California, and make many memories. It is a lovely trip—and we survived! Only one little melt-down at the end of the trip. Pretty good for a couple who don’t normally travel too well together. Maybe there’s still hope??? J

May – SHE GRADUATES! Jim’s eldest daughter graduates from college—a huge step. We take a trip to Corpus for the great event!

And my spiritual direction classes come to an end. This has been a 3-year journey, with a wonderful group of people who have been so much a part of changing my whole life. I came into these classes so sure of so much, and they end with me realizing how little I know, and my whole world view changing. So what’s next spiritually? How do I incorporate all I’ve learned—and unlearned into my journey? Where do I go from here? So much has changed. So much has been undone over the last 3 years.

Then a weekend with the Lace Sisters at one of the Sisters’ new home. Another ”un-doing”. It iss eventful—and life-changing for me—and painful. Is it really all about me? Being pretty rattled, my second son plays me a song and sings me a tune, and life is beautiful again. I’m so grateful for my children—my friends who love me still and bear with me and lift me up when life has crumbled.

The next weekend another friend and I take a trip to San Antonio and paint on the Riverwalk. First time to paint “plein aire” and in public. It’s fun—must do again.

June – Life slows down a little. I finish up all of my spiritual direction assignments, continue meeting with my Circle – we’ve finished The Artist Way and started another little book called Crones Don’t Whine, and we’ve officially become The Third Act. We’ve been invited to do a show at the Gallery in January. My painting has dried up, and I’m not sure I can even paint anymore. Maybe it was all a dream and I’m not really an artist. Maybe it was all a dream and I’m not really a Christian. Maybe it’s all been a dream and life doesn’t really have a purpose and it’s all been a joke. But I keep waking up, and life keeps going on—life seem fragile, and a very close circle of friends seem so distant, and I’m not sure what’s hit me. It does seem to be all about me, doesn’t it.

July – My eldest grandchild, and my only granddaughter turns 13, with a pretty untraditional birthday party. My son loses his job, and mine and Ellen’s long-awaited day starts out quite shakily. I say things a grandmother should never say to her granddaughter—but 13-year-old wisdom prevails, tears wash garbage away, and Love grows stronger, and the day winds up being beautiful in spite of my fears and my blunders.

Mother and I head to Dallas to see my youngest and his wife and to visit them for the first time in their new home. A trip to museum, a musical, and a wonderful visit—but the wind changes at the very end, and questions are asked and answers bring disappointments. The rose-colored glasses come off again—life is different now. More decisions are made that wouldn’t have been my choice, but must be respected. My beautiful family has a “crack” in it that seems to have grown wider. What do I do now—can’t seem to fix this one.

And long-time friend’s marriage seems to have ended. Nothing much seems sacred. Real love seems to be futile. I discover a lot of anger still in me.

August – I graduate from the Cenacle’s spiritual direction program and my 3-year commitment is over. I really am at wit’s end. I feel so obligated to the Church who sponsored me, yet—I’m not even sure what I believe anymore. Still asking “Who is Jesus?” “Does all that I’ve experienced really mean anything?” “What do I believe?” “Do I believe in anything at all?” “Should I really even go to graduation—does it really matter?” But I go, and a prayer that I’ve been whispering for a couple of months is one of the themes:

My Lord God, I have no idea where I am going. I do not see the road ahead of me. I cannot know for certain where it will end. Nor do I really know myself, and the fact that I think that I am following your will does not mean that I am actually doing so. But I believe that the desire to please you does in fact please you. And I hope I have that desire in all that I am doing. I hope that I will never do anything apart from that desire. And I know that if I do this, you will lead me by the right road, though I may know nothing about it. Therefore, I will trust you always, though I may seem to be lost and in the shadow of death. I will not fear, for you are ever with me, and you will never leave me to face my perils alone. (Thomas Merton).

Mind you, it’s been a whispered prayer—not sure I mean it much, but synchronicity lifts my heart for a moment. I stumbled on it a couple of months ago, and taped it to my computer and I whisper it occasionally—and it’s read at the graduation ceremony. Maybe Godde still is speaking to me? One can hope, can’t she.

Still struggling when I try to paint. I come upon a photo of one of my sons playing his guitar. It stirs me, so I think, “I’ll try”. And woola! It works! And another—there seems to be some juice still flowing somewhere…

September – I decide to re-visit pottery classes. Maybe something inside me will jumpstart my art? And an artist I know and respect decides to teach a class at WAS-H—the human figure. I’m so drawn to paint and sculpt the human form—even though no one ever buys…why does that seem to be the only measure of success???

A friend marries in September—a Lily. What a beautiful reception, and something inside me stirs—it started with a wedding and now it ends with a wedding. There seems to be some closure inside—something for me seems to have ended. Amazingly, it feels “right”. Never sure what these “feelings” mean, but they are “true”, and I’ve come to learn to trust them.

October – my artwork begins to flow, kind of sort of, again. I thoroughly enjoy my pottery classes and my watercolor classes. We have a drawing workshop at the studio, and it’s great fun. I’m enjoying model drawing days at the studio. I can feel clouds lifting. But something else is stirring. I don’t want to go to church. I hate being “obligated” to perform. I can’t share my heart there like I can with my Third Act circle. Why can’t we talk freely in church—too many walls, and too much expectation. What do I do about the “obligation”?

November – I reimburse the Church the $1500 they have paid toward my classes over the last 3 years. I feel somewhat freer. No such thing as “holy obligation”. The only thing that keeps me going to church now is serving Eucharist. I know I have to resign that ministry as well. I need to be “free” for the next step, so I let the leader of that ministry know that I can’t serve anymore after the first of the year. A huge weight lifts.

December – The full weight of decisions made in July looms. Christmas is never easy for me, anyway—will I make it this year? One of us will be missing—a choice made. It hurts.

But there’s also something new stirring inside of me. For the first time in a LONG time. Who knows why, but I request books from the local library—books on Mary the Mother and Mary Magdalene. I find myself reading as much as I can, perusing through most books, and savoring many of them, especially the books by Margaret Starbird: Woman with the Alabaster Jar, Goddess in the Gospels, Mary Magdalene, Bride in Exile. I find my heart stirring again—for the first time in the last 3 years, I feel a “coming home”. The Bride returns—the Song of Solomon—the fires are burning again, perhaps just embers, but something is happening inside. I am captivated with the thought of Jesus and the Magdalene. The return of the feminine. The Bride and the Bridegroom. The other “half” of Christianity.

And the friend who’s marriage seemed to be ended? They are together again—just in time for Christmas.
And that’s where I am as this year winds down. The year has come and gone, and my family has survived a crisis. Only time will tell if the wound will be healed. But I made it through none the worse for wear.

And the Voice of the Bride and the Bridegroom stirs inside of me. What will 2008 bring? A year of “new beginnings”? Only time will tell.

I love “New Years”. I used to love empty journals, beginning books. I’ve let my journaling go over the last couple of years, but maybe this year some pages will get written. Regardless, the pages of my life will get written each day—some of them I write, some are written by others, and when synchronicity happens, I know that even Godde is still writing on the pages of my life. So I wait, with hope, expectations…perhaps even rose-colored glasses

Getting New Windows

These young guys are taking out all my single pane energy wasting windows and replacing them with highly energy efficient double hung windows...I was thinking this morning about the "prophetic picture"--my house getting all new energy saving windows. I like the picture! :)

Inner Authority

I worked in my yard for a while yesterday, and before I knew it, I was pondering Mary’s “fiat”, her “yes”. And I’m still thinking about it this morning. I’ve wanted a “yes” as resolute as Mary’s for many years, but this morning it means more than “surrender”—more that “I’m your handmaiden—whatever you want”.

You know, I’ll never be a “virgin”, and I’ll never again have a special baby, but I really believe Mary’s story has to be mine for today, or it’s not part of a transformational gospel. Like Meister Eckhart said, not to belittle the birth of Jesus, but it doesn’t do us much good that Mary conceived the seed of God and gave birth to the Christ, unless I am able to conceive that seed and birth Christ for today. So, in light of all that…

What did it mean for a woman in Mary’s day to say “yes”? We think we live in a patriarchal age, but a lot of changes have taken place since Mary boldly spoke her “yes”. In her day, it was still believed that a woman couldn’t have a relationship with God without a man’s intervention. She had no authority on her own to say “yes”.

I was pretty impressed a couple of years ago when I found out that the Aramic word for “virgin” simply meant “without the intervention of a man”. Even to this day, many of us in our current patriarchal society are taught that the man is the head of the house, the spiritual leader, the final authority. Years ago, I felt God calling me in a definite direction, but my pastor disagreed with me. He tried to talk me out of it, and finally in desperation turned to my husband and said, “Jim, as Sheila’s spiritual authority, what do you think?” I was flabbergasted—and Jim was, too!

Women are still deemed unworthy and/or unsuitable for the priesthood or pastorate in many denominations, including my own—based on a male-biased interpretation of Scripture and the science and reasoning of 2000 years ago. We’re still spiritually relegating women to second class citizens, because of the words of our spiritual forefathers, like Thomas Aquinas who spoke of a woman’s need to be governed by others wiser than herself when he wrote: “by such a kind of subjection woman is naturally subject to man, because in man the discretion of reason predominates”. (Emphasis mine) And this is only one example of a patriarchal culture that continues to subordinate women as the “God-given order of the world.”

All that to say that Mary defied those boundaries when it came to having her own personal relationship with Love. She heard Love speak for itself, and she believed what she heard in her own heart, and she chose to act on what she heard and believed of her own volition. She didn’t wait to have what she heard and believed correctly interpreted for her, nor did she wait to have the male spiritual leader agree with her, giving her permission to continue that relationship.

In fact, when her “spiritual authority” questioned her hearing and her response, a Messenger was sent to tell him, “Listen up—Mary heard right, and what she said is true. Believe her.”

For Luke to even include the story of Mary’s encounter with God is a pretty big deal.

So that’s what I’ve been thinking of over the last couple of days. Mary led the way for us, not as a docile, quiet little dependant woman, but as a brave, bold “thinking- for-herself” kind of woman—unafraid, or maybe courageous. She believed in her own inner authority, and her story encourages me really desire to KNOW for myself. She gives me courage to do this journey MY way. And I’m grateful Luke told the story for women of today.

Clarity Comes with the Dawn

The fog has lifted! I've been in a funk--let's call it what it is, depression--for about 11 days now, and I've tried and tried to figure out what was wrong so that I could fix it. I've felt as if I was being sucked under or had fallen into a pit with no way out, and I have complained for days about everything and everybody. But Love came this morning--synchronicity! When Love comes disguised as coincidence! I reached and picked up this book this morning. I started it right after the first of the year, but I never got very far, and only Love knows why I chose to pick it up this morning, but I started reading right where I left off in January, in the chapter called Intimacy. Zukov begins: Intimacy is the measure of the energy that leaves your energy system in love and trust...The experience of intimacy is not related to how others act or do not act, or how they speak or do not speak. It depends upon how energy leaves your energy system. When energy leaves your processing system in love and trust, the result is the experience of intimacy... and on he wrote, and everything began to click for me.
And these pages pointed out exactly what I had done: focused on the circumstance and the "who done it to me", instead of the experience of the feelings I had inside. You know, I know this on an intellectual level, but I keep forgetting. It doesn't matter if my circumstances change--if I am living in fear and doubt, NOTHING will be right, EVER. And if I'm living in love and trust, the circumstances, no matter what they are, or if they ever change, simply don't matter. Zukov reminded me to focus on what's happening inside of me, not what's outside of me. It's about ME changing, not everyone else changing to suit me. DARN IT ALL!! Zukov got me when he wrote: Your teacher is very patient. If you do not learn what your circumstances see to teach you, more circumstances arrive to help you learn the same lesson. This continues as long as necessary--in my case, it seems over and over again. No matter, for THIS MOMENT, for today, for right now, I'm open to love and trust again, and my insides and my outsides are "home".

Lost....

The only ducks we usually see here at the creek are mud ducks and in the winter. But I've noticed this mallard couple swimming by for the past few days. This morning I saw them pacing between the neighbor's house and my house. It appears they got out of the creek further down where there's a mud bank, and now they can't quite figure out how to get back in the flow of things. They would stop, look at the water, and pace some more. That's kind of how I've been feeling for the past few days--somehow I managed to find myself "out of the flow", and I can't quite figure out how to get back in. Dumpy...like the ducks I feel my self rather "lost"...I suspect the necessary change will come, and I will find myself in the flow again, but it sure feels rotten for the moment wondering how the heck I wound up here, and wondering whether I will be able to find my way back in or not?

Create a Quote Day

Sometimes I wake up with "snapshot" pictures in my head...this morning I woke up with this "blog photo" and knew I wanted to see how my friends define "beauty". I love collecting quotes, and I happen to think I have some of the wisest friends history has ever birthed, so let me know how YOU define "beauty", and I'll use those quotes for my "quote of the day" for a while.

Friday, February 23, 2007 As Advertised

I took this photo yesterday at my local Hobby Lobby--it's still the texture thing. I love all the coors and the texture, and I've pondered wanting a colorful and well-textures life--but since I took the picture, I've had some unsettling news so I've hesitated to post. Just didn't seem pertinent anymore. But when I uploaded my camera, and noticed the "As Advertised" sign, I thought it might fit into what's happening in my life. You know, Life just isn't "as advertised". Especially if you've done it "right" and really tried hard. It's always kind of unsettling and disappointing when you find that no matter how you've tried, or how much you might have done "right", Life just doesn't seem to deliver as promised. There are unsettling suprises and many disappointments because our expectations are pretty high. But when the dust has settled, it's those surprises, those disappointments, those "unadvertised specials" that give us the color and the texture that we long for in life. It's those things that grow us and expand our hearts and our minds. So, in spite of myself, I still pray for a colorful and well-textured life--including all the dark threads and all the knotty, bumpy yard of life.

Living a Textured Life

I've been knitting a lot since about the first of December. I'm in love with all the wonderful yarns available now-adays, and it's a good, not-much-thinking pastime in the evening. Helps me stay awake a little longer. But it's also held some significance--there's been something happening in my heart as I've persued this little pastime. I think it hit me this morning--I want to live a fully textured life. Until I turned 40, most of my life was spent doing what was expected, believing everything I had been taught, not questioning for myself--a pretty plain-surfaced life. The yarn woven into my life was what I learned to knit on many years ago, plain and boring. But something happened at 40, and I began to ask some questions, and think for myself. And my life began to be more "textured". Over the last 3 years, it's even become more colorful--like all the yarns at my local Hobby Lobby, some soft and silky, flat and wide, rough, smooth, brightly colored, and muted shades. There's still the plain ole yarn that I first learned to knit on years ago, but I'll quickly pass it up and grab something with a little more gusto! I've decided that I like color and I like texture--I like thinking for myself. I like asking questions more than I like getting answers. I like taking risks more than I like being safe. I figure by the time I reach 60 (not too far off, mind you), I might be ready to knit one of those "artistic" scarfs, that's made of all kinds of scraps, an eclectic mix of everything life has had to offer. And that's the way I'm determined to live my life--creatively, artistically, colorfully, and FULLY TEXTURED!

Bare-faced me

I have a friend who posted her bare-faced picture on her blog, and another who's decided that taking bare-faced pictures is therapeutic. So, I tried it. I'll try anything once. But therapeutic?? I don't think I'm ready to say that yet. :) I am enjoying the aging process. I feel good physically, mentally, spiritual, and emotionally--better than ever. Yet, photos are real reminders that time is moving all too swiftly. Personally, I would rather play Picasso and pick up my colors and my brushes and paint away on this canvas God's given me! :)

A Colored Pencil Kind of Day

Well, I got up this morning, February 4, and reposted this blog from yesterday...I spent 4 hours on my dial-up computer last night posting a lot of pictures from the workshop I took yesterday, and by the time I got through, I was tired, frustrated, and my insides weren't nearly as pretty as this box of colored pencils. I woke up this morning remembering that this blog isn't about getting people's pictures in so they can come see themselves and applaud the "star" inside of me. It amazes me how quickly everything in my life becomes about performance! One of the neatest things about "project 365" to me, is the opportunity to learn to see through new eyes, and to journal my day in a different way. There's only a couple of people who read my blog every day--actually, only one that I know of. And she deserves more than I gave last night in my attempts to get everyone's applause. I deserve better than that. And my spiritual artist inside--my soul deserves better than that. I don't work with colored pencils too often because they take time. And I like to produce more quickly than pencils let me. But one of the best things about pencils is that as I slow down and color, my soul slows down, too. So, I got up this morning--deleted all the jumble of pictures and slowed down to the pace this page is supposed be for me. A friend of mine posted a picture of a snale on her blog the other day--slow and easy wins the race. I'm not too fond of slow and easy. And something inside of me wants a big show of applause so much that I'm willing to spend hours of frustration trying to get it. So, I did learn something besides how to use colored pencils yesterday. And this morning, I feel much less frustration. Back to simplicity.