Coming Home to Where I’ve Always Been

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In March of 2017 I was beginning my Sabbath leave and a three-month ‘Retreat in Daily Life’, with Jesus’s birth narratives as my starting point in prayer. Using imaginary prayer, I was sitting around the campfire with shepherds, and as the sky filled with angels I leapt to my feet. A hand lifted me through the angels and brought me off stage. I could see the whole world, and the Jesus story as a play on the world stage. I was no longer a part of it but was in the wings watching the drama unfold. Turning, I saw a door marked ‘Director’s Office’ and I was invited to enter. Inside, I knew a presence telling me to rest, for I wasn’t needed on stage.

That was five years ago. The image and message are still alive for me. My new life in BC began as an ‘off stage’, quiet life. Sometimes it got busy but then I would quieten it again. Today something different happened. I realized how being in the Director’s Office is a sacred and holy place, yet I haven’t been focused on the Director. My ears, eyes, body are always turning to what’s happening on stage. I’m here, in this fabulous, wonderful, holy place, called by Spirit to be with our Director and I’m not focused there for I’m still turning to the distractions of the world.

I’m stunned at the awareness. I need to capture that treasure and not loose it.

I feel so graced to become aware of the gift of being in the Directors Office, and the gift of realizing that I haven’t been valuing the gift, for I have continued to be distracted by the noise on stage. I know I’m repeating myself, but I need to hear the truth. Too often I let truths blow away in the wind. I want to stay present to the Director in my everyday life. My night dreams are still full of the noise on the stage reflecting how much I’m still entangled in it.

Today I turn to Jesus and speak with him…..I’m so grateful to you.  Do I try your patience? It’s been years that I’ve been in the Director’s Office and years I haven’t always respected your call. I am so sorry. I have been as a child, naughty and distracted. I want to learn to be HERE with you. The trees have told me to be still ever since I arrived. I’ve paid some attention, but not enough. Help me keep my focus on The Director. That’s my calling, to use my will, my reason, my wisdom in focusing on You, Loving One. And I know that even as my eyes wandered back into the rush of life, you never took your eyes off me, for I am your child. I have returned home to where I’ve always been, living in your Loving…..

And you Gentle Reader. Are you wandering and now ready to return home? What might be your distractions that keep your focus off your Creator?  What keeps you rushing instead of resting and trusting?

Love and prayers

Anne

Mystic in Motion

Companion on the Way with Contemplative Fire

Companion with the Rivendell Way

Society member of Shalem

Returning

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It moves between a dribble and deluge. Right now, the creek below our home is roaring. After a week that covered our trees and mountains in snow, the winter rains returned washing everything green again and filling the creek almost to overflowing. Sometimes, such as the end of summer, our creek is barely a trickle. Other times like now, it roars.

Life is like that with twists and turns, ups and downs, times of drought and times of deluge.

Like the creek that was once dry, I stopped posting about a year ago, feeling it was a season of rest. It was a nourishing rest, much time given to family adventures, but something fresh is stirring now. It’s time to pour something again into my writing creek.

Last fall I listened to two of my mystical teachers speak about their spiritual writing practice, and I knew that I was missing that piece. For years I have written reflections for my contemplative community and then for this blog site. My writing has been more a spiritual practice for myself than to grow a reading community. I hoped that my thoughts would be nourishing to others but, speaking honestly, it was for my own spiritual growth that I wrote. I would take some glimmer, some glimpse of the Divine that I had encountered and ponder it, honor it and by doing that deepen my own experience. Over the decades I have been shaped by what I encountered in my written reflections, experiencing God’s presence in my life expanding, deepening, and warming. It’s like finding my heartbeat and paying attention to it.

A few months ago, I returned to the practice and now in the new year, I feel ready to begin posting regularly. I don’t know who will read what I write. I’m always interested to hear back from you, yet I send my words out into the world whether I hear back or not. It’s like walking down the street with a smile on my face. I don’t necessarily smile at a person, I smile because there is a smile inside me and I want to give to the world the gentle happiness that’s within me. I write what I ponder and offer it into the world, hoping, trusting that it is nourishing and turning our world into deeper harmony.

So, I’m returning. May the dribble of words grow into a nourishing deluge.

Love and prayers

Anne

Mystic in Motion

Companion on the Way with Contemplative Fire

Companion on the Rivendell Way

Society member of Shalem Institute for Contemplative Living

Draw the Circle Wide

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Draw the circle wide…..

‘Draw’ pulls me in. ‘Wide’ expands me. Breathing in. Breathing out. Tension. Release.

‘Draw’ pulls me into my core, the centre of my being, what I experientially know to be true. I’m pulled to the source of my being, to the creative source within all life. It’s deep, good and full of LOVE.

The core of LOVE always has an expansive quality to it. Love is given to be shared. The core expands out, includes everybody, everything, everywhere.

Breathing in. Breathing out. Drawing in. Expanding out.

My call is to include everyone with my loving gaze, everyone. Everyone, whatever skin colour, cultural customs, demographics, age, orientation, whatever – all are included in LOVE’s circle of presence and care. Will I expand to include all? Everything, everywhere includes oceans and skies, mighty river and humble creek, towering red cedar and wild ivy, urban sprawl and congestion – all have their place and contain the presence of LOVE. Will I expand to include all?

‘Draw the circle wide’ began in church conversations to call us beyond our small congregations into an inclusive environment and inter-faith world. I don’t think it is contained to the Christian world. I hear a spiritual choir singing where there are many voices, each singing in their own way, but all singing in harmony to give to the world beautiful spiritual music. I don’t think we can make spiritually harmonious music unless we begin by going deep into our core, being drawn into LOVE, to an experience of our Living God. From that experience, we can expand outwards, drawing all life towards LOVE. We need to go deep. We need to be transformed by LOVE, so we are willing to expand and extend compassion to all. No one is to be left out.

My pondering of this phrase was heightened this morning by reflection time with Contemplative Fire UK community. Come and join us sometime. www.contemplativefire.org

What does this phrase say to you?

Love and prayers

Anne

Mystic in Motion (hmmm resting a lot right now!)

Companion on the Way with Contemplative Fire

Contemplative Fire Canada (Founder)

Companion with The Rivendell Way

Society Member of Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation

Endless Time

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Can you recall a moment when you came across a book, a reading, a conversation, something that felt so ‘right’ to you, something that helped shape your day or your thoughts? It felt as if the whole universe, the Spirit of God had planned that moment for you. Everything felt in alignment. Yes!

The Greeks taught us about two kinds of time, Chronos and Kairos. The first gives us our watches, our obsession with minutes and seconds. We call it chronological time where we measure each minute, set appointment times and win races by milliseconds. We also count birthday candles, grades in school, and frequency of events with this time measurement. Handy but…..I’m grateful for the other time awareness. Kairos reminds us that there is more to time than we can measure. Tip your head up and behold the cosmos above you. That’s a glimpse into a Kairos awareness, one where we are humbled by the vastness. We stagger meekly into eternal time, unmeasured and forever.  I’m humbled before it for I can’t contain it in my watch or calendar. I’m expanded within it for I’m aware of a deeper calling, a deeper life where I live in Kairos time.

Our physical bodies are tied to Chronos. The clock ticks for the physical life I’m living. Our soul resides in Kairos. We are children of God, made in the image of eternity. Our soul breaths comfortably in Kairos time. When I feel trapped or exhausted, I wonder if I’m living too much in my body or mind and not enough residing in my soul. Or is it my soul experiencing the constraints of this measured life? I know my soul doesn’t get exhausted for it is always fed from the eternal spring of life within.

The last time I encountered one of those moments when the right word was given to me, made me so aware that my life was known by God. If that moment was known, that need was known, wasn’t every moment known, every need known? I glimpsed that we live within Kairos time, all the time. We simply don’t see it. God is always present. Relax and trust in the slow work of God. Always. Each moment is known. We live in endless, eternal time. Always known. Always beloved.

Love and prayers

Anne

Mystic in Motion

Companion on the Way with Contemplative Fire

Contemplative Fire Canada, Founder

Companion on The Rivendell Way

Society Member with Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation  

Whispers from a Campfire

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Last night I sat around a huge firepit with some Contemplative Fire friends. Together we listened to Judy Brown’s poem “Fire”. (There is a link below.) Fueled by the poem and fire in front of us, we shared our reflections. What does the poem evoke within us? What are our logs? Our spaces?

The fire had been carefully laid by another. It had paper inside a tent of small kindling and then some larger pieces to begin the blaze. Someone else came and put a match to it. I arrived as the fire was beginning to radiate light and warmth. Night settled around us. The one who built the fire wasn’t there. The one who lit the fire departed. I was on my own with a crackling fire when friends arrived. We settled in together around the fire, poking it as the evening went on. We chewed over the thoughts that were ignited by the poem. They returned home to tend their children and I remained by the fire. The poking continued as did the pondering. I watched the logs be consumed, the spaces shift and then I was left with only embers. What had been a blazing fire, giving us light and heat, became a small dish of glowing embers.

Often, I’ve been taught about the two seasons of life, the accomplishment/achievement of youth and then the search for deeper meaning and purpose that comes as we age. Are the logs the activity or tasks in life and the spaces what give meaning and purpose? Or is it the other way around?! As humans we need both, activity and purpose, accomplishment and meaning, engagement and space to breathe. There is no fire if there are too many logs or only space.

I watched the fire begin, roar, take many shapes as it burnt and then die off into embers where there are no logs or spaces. I wondered if there is a third season, a time of releasing from logs and spaces to becoming embers; a season when meaning and activity shift and change, becoming, a time when we let go of what we’ve done for so long and take on a new way of being. Is this what is called being an elder?

It seems to me that the logs are what the world notices and spaces are the inner work we mature into recognizing and cultivating. There comes a time in life when we are invited to let go of what the world notices and settle into the warmth of ember years. Last night around the campfire I heard the whisper of change, of releasing into the fire, activities and ways I no longer need, of allowing my life to burn differently, even to mellow into embers. What will ember years look like? Are we all called into ember years long before we age? Are not ember years the dying to old self, ego ways and resting into new self, true self, Spirit ways? Can’t that happen at any age?

Ember years. I’m still wondering, listening to the whispers around the campfire.

Here is a link:   https://wordsfortheyear.com/2018/06/02/fire-by-judy-brown/.

Love and prayers

Anne

Mystic in Motion

Companion on the Way with Contemplative Fire

Contemplative Fire Canada, Founder

Companion on The Rivendell Way

Society Member with Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation

Emotional French Fries

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Sometimes I’ll order them but not often. Sometimes it’s those yam fries….Usually I  just take a few from my husband’s plate. I know I don’t feel well if I eat a whole plate of French fries or yam fries, and I do enjoy feeling healthy and full of energy. Fried foods clog our arteries. That’s just the way we’re made. Yes, they taste yummy but fried foods aren’t that good for our physical body, certainly not as a large part of a regular diet.

The other day I wasn’t feeling well emotionally. I’d been with some people and afterwards I realized I had digested something emotionally that didn’t feel well to me. What had I ‘eaten’? I felt plugged up inside so the usual flow I know had been diverted. Deep down inside me I could feel some fear which sent out tendrils of worry. It was those little bits of worry, soaked in fear that were tempting me to nibble. Ah! No! Worries are like emotional French Fries, tempting, tasty, but too many and I get clogged up inside.

My dear friend Jesus, says so clearly, ‘Don’t worry. Can you change anything by worrying? Know instead that you are loved, and know you are in the presence of One who loves you, always, everyday. Don’t give in to worry. Trust in the Presence of Love.’

When we worry, it will clog our emotional and spiritual energy flow, just as clearly as a diet of fatty food will clog our physical arteries. Yet somehow, we accept worry as a normal part of human life. I think it’s common, but I don’t want it to be ‘normal’ for you or for me. I want to make choices about how I care for my physical body, and choices about how I care for my emotional and spiritual home as well.

Menus these days are often marked with nutritional information – gluten free, vegetarian, vegan, calorie count etc. Imagine if your day was marked with a worry count….What does each encounter that you have during the day trigger in you? Are you drawn towards trust or worry? To what extent does that relationship help you be your best self? Are you able to give both strength and ease into the situation? I bet you could come up with some questions of your own!

So, my friends, watch out for those emotional French fries!

Love and prayers

Anne

Mystic in Motion

Companion on the Way with Contemplative Fire

Contemplative Fire Canada, Founder

Companion on The Rivendell Way

Society Member with Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation

Always

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She was shrouded in a cloud this morning, yet I knew she was there.

Chichiyuy, ‘The Sisters’, or as they are commonly called here, ‘The Lions’ are two distinctive mountain peaks near Vancouver which rise above my little oceanside village giving us the name ‘Lions Bay’. On my morning mountain walk, when I pause at the top of it, the west Sister is in my view. She is one of my places of prayer. Today I couldn’t see her for a cloud had settled over her. We’re in for a rainy day. But I knew she was there. Always there. Everyday.

When settlers arrived here, someone had the idea that the two dominant mountain peaks were reflective of the lions in Trafalgar Square, London. I’m not sure why. The name has been commonly accepted and now is sprinkled all over the area, so we have the BC Lions, Lions Gate Bridge, Lions Gate Hospital, numerous Lion Pubs and of course Lions Bay. A hundred years ago Pauline Johnson told us what the First Nations called those peaks and gave us a version of their story. It seems those peaks weren’t placed there to be triumphant and roaring but to remind us to live peacefully and in one accord with each other. I’ve heard several versions of the story and they all end with the two sisters who brought waring tribes together in peace being immortalized in these peaks. We’re to look at them and remember their story, their bravery, integrity and strength. Two strong women brought the warring tribes together. Peace. Live in one accord. Always. Everyday.

In the scripture I’m pondering this week Jesus speaks to us about not being fixated on our differences, to see God within people and live together peacefully, in one accord. As I write, in Canada, we’re on the eve of a national election. We’ve watched divisions flare up and negativity seep out. I long for the days when parties can work together for the common good. Sometimes it’s as if a cloud settles over us and we forget that we one people, one human race, here to live simply, humbly on a beautiful earth together, learning who we are as God’s children. Instead ,we become strident, insisting on our way as the right way and speaking negatively of those who have experienced life differently from us and see things another way.  

When confusion or uncertainty comes, and it will, remember that The Sisters are there, everyday, always. They are a constant reminder to us to live in peace with one another. May our lives move the world forward toward peace.

With hope, love and prayers

Anne

Mystic in Motion

Companion on the Way with Contemplative Fire

Contemplative Fire Canada, Founder

Companion with The Rivendell Way

Society Member of Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation

Spiritual Growth – Forgiveness: Navigating Spiritual Swamps

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Sadness slowly welled up in my heart. Not far away, the community had built a dam to contain fresh water for the cannery. What happened instead was that further up the hill the spring welled up and created a swamp killing the natural cedar growth. They made the best of a bad situation. Realizing that the ancient trees were dead, they allowed a marsh to develop and created an ecological centre with boardwalks traversing the marsh. The ancient trees stand as a reminder of what was and what could have been.

My heart’s sadness didn’t come from the marsh but from the cultural centre that has been built on the island. It is placed near the site of the residential school that held children from 1894-1974. A healing ceremony was held when the building was torn down in 2015. The cultural centre, which is the building to the left of the school, displays potlach masks and stories of the First Nations who have lived on these lands since time immemorial. It also has an historical outline of life from unknown days through first contact and into Indian Act years to present time.

Since the exposure in May of 215 unmarked graves of children in Kamloops I’ve attempted to learn more of our Canadian history. The visit to U’mista Cultural Centre in Alert Bay was one of those opportunities. I spoke with a guardian who asked how my day was going. With honesty I replied about how I felt going through their display, acknowledging my Canadian upbringing, my lack of knowledge of their story, and my slowness in being open to learning about the sorrow. Our conversation wandered around many trails of his family experiences and mine. As I wondered about next steps, he gently and quietly said a step is into forgiveness, and the first step is to forgive yourself. He who has been hurt, speaks to me, the settler, the one on the side of those who inflicted hurt on others, to forgive myself.

The other time I heard of forgiveness spoken so deeply, intimately and quietly was from a First Nations Elder I met on Manitoulin Island in Ontario. He told stories of forgiveness, of First Nations people living forgiveness to those who had hurt them. They way he spoke was humble and authentic. He was walking the path of forgiveness. Jesus’ last recorded words as he was dying were ‘Father, forgive them. They don’t know what they are doing.’ Forgiveness is at the heart of his message to us. When I hear forgiveness from First Nations, I know they are speaking God’s truth to me, and it is for them a living truth, nothing academic or theological but experiential. They are forgiving.

If we don’t walk the path of forgiveness, towards our self and all others, it’s like building a dam inside us, a dam that will cause water to plug up and kill ancient truths within us, creating a swamp. Forgiveness of our self and others is an essential ongoing step on the path of spiritual growth. Without it, something inside us dies. Life gets messy. If you want to grow spiritually, search your heart. Are you caring any grudge toward anyone? Are you blaming anyone for your life circumstances? Are you caring shame, any tiny sense of ‘not-good-enough’? Turn to forgiveness, hear Jesus’s words of forgiveness, and begin letting go of that knot inside you. Ask for help from Jesus, God, Divine Mother, Healing Spirit, help to undo that knot inside you.

Spiritual growth often starts with a sad heart but doesn’t end there.

Do you have any knots that need untying? Who doesn’t.

Here is a link to St Michael’s story and overview of residential schools. https://roadstories.ca/st-michaels-residential-school

Love and prayers

Anne

Mystic in Motion

Companion on the Way with Contemplative Fire

Contemplative Fire Canada, Founder

Companion on The Rivendell Way

Society Member of Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation

Undoing Knots

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My mother was a warm-hearted extrovert. From a child’s perspective, her sweet spot seemed to be on the golf course, curling rink, or drink in hand with her friends. When she died, her friends told me how much fun she had been. She knew how to throw her head back with laughter, taught me to shuffle cards like a poker pro and make fabulous homemade candy as her mom had taught her. One evening she gave me her gift of public speaking. I have no idea how she did it, but from that evening conversation I moved from giving boring classroom speeches to someone who is quite persuasive when upfront. It’s helped a lot in my adult life. My mother died over twenty years ago yet life circumstances have caused her to be on my mind a lot.

This week I remembered how she used to help me with my knitting. I don’t have memories of her in a rocking chair knitting away, yet she taught me how to knit. As a young girl I did lots of projects. Do you recall those heavy Irish knit cable sweaters or the Icelandic ones with a yoke of colour? I did all those. Later I knit sweaters for my girls with dogs and panda bears on them. What I’ve been remembering this week is how, when I made a mess, my social, busy mom would take my knitting and slowly unravel it, pick up stiches, mend it and give it back to me. It was a labour of love. She never complained. She undid my knots. Isn’t it odd how love shows up in unexpected ways?

The poem I shared with you last time I wrote, ‘Please Come Home’ continues to move inside me. The Spirit has become the Divine Mother calling me home, calling me to bring my knots, dropped stiches, unfinished bits of life and come on home. I will sit with you, tend you and love you as you are. I need you home with me. Please come home.

In the past few weeks, I’ve experienced several internal knots, those broken, unfinished bits of me, places where my ego is pushing around, bits of anger, seeking significance, being small minded. It’s a gift to see those ego bruises and an even bigger gift to take them to Jesus and ask him and Divine Mother to undo the knots. It’s a gift to see my hurtful behaviour for their effect is there even if I don’t see it. People around me experience me pushing into them even if I don’t. If I feel myself acting like that then I have an opportunity to ask Jesus to undo the knots.

Reflecting on my mother’s love, shown in helping me knit, grows within me confidence that my Divine Mother and my Dear Friend Jesus, will undo my ego knots.

I want those knots undone. I want to be more like Jesus.

Who do you want to emulate?

Love and prayers

Anne

Mystic in Motion

Companion on the Way with Contemplative Fire

Contemplative Fire Canada, Founder

Companion on The Rivendell Way

Society Member with Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation

Learning from Horses

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((I know I’ve been slower posting recently. I’ve been on a local road trip for awhile but I’ve also been sorting through life a bit this summer. All is well but sometimes Spirit takes us into new areas and I haven’t been ready to write about them. Next couple of weeks seem to be simple reflections.))

Yesterday morning I walked across the goose-spattered yard, past the goats and chickens, and the barn full of hay, to visit the horses. Usually, the herd roams free around the property of the wilderness lodge where we’re staying for a few days. At 7.00am Mani feeds the herd hay in the back coral so they make their way home. My family was quiet, still tucked in their beds, so I slipped away to visit the horses. They were so peaceful, scattered around the coral in small groups, munching on fresh hay. Contentment hung in the air. Life couldn’t be better, fresh air, fresh hay, friends around. Most of the horses are rescues, not elegant, but good horses, grateful for a loving and safe home. The day before we’d been on a trail ride and so I felt familiar with Rosie, Paddy, Ranger, and Maris.

A different horse came into the coral. I didn’t know him, so I’ll call him Spotty. His front was brown, backside was white covered in brown spots. He entered with an attitude and pushed into the first group of munching horses, instantly sending his ears back in warning. The two other horses quickly stepped aside from him. He could have whatever hay he wanted. They munched for a few minutes but then Spotty flicked his ears back again and pushed around some more. The little group broke up and reassembled at a distance. Spotty kept eating. I remembered the day before seeing a horse, flick his ears back, turn and nip another’s butt. I think that was Spotty too.

Have you ever experienced someone coming into a room and bossing people around like Spotty? I know I have! But the wrinkle for me is that I’ve been seeing a bit of Spotty in myself lately. I’ve become aware of rough edges, times when I push into a room or a discussion, times when I flick my ears back. I haven’t noticed such behaviour in myself for a very long time. I wonder if it’s been there and I’ve been blind, or if this is different behaviour happening or if I’m simply seeing what I’m like through new eyes. Any way it comes about….it’s not pretty. I want to be like Jesus, not Spotty!

And I want eyes to see what I am like, not what I imagine myself to be like, but how I actually move through the world. I want to live like that contented herd, connected, satisfied, happy, appreciative. They’re not elegant horses, groomed for competition or show, but they are good, horses making the best of their horse life at a wilderness lodge in The Cariboo of BC. I want to make the best of the life I’ve been given too.

Love and prayers

Anne

Mystic in Motion

Companion on the Way with Contemplative Fire

Contemplative Fire Canada, Founder

Companion on The Rivendell Way

Society Member of Shalem Institute for Spiritual Formation