connecting

Receptions of Responsibility (please read and share your thoughts!)

Lynn — Sun, 22 Jun 2008 18:17:58 GMT

As Mercury moves forward, I can feel my focus move forward with it. It's lunchtime, and I've already had quite an inciteful day - as I have space now to be receptive to things. I love that orientation - for it is very full-feeling yet always has room. I am at my boyfriend's house. He and I are both working today (I work from home). I got up this morning and turned on the TV briefly while I ate my breakfast. As I watched the end of a PBS garden show, I felt a longing to be in church with my family (who were at that time), worshiping God. I flipped the channels again and found a Lutheran worship service broadcast from Madison. It was wonderful! The lesson was from Romans 5, and dealt with what it means to be a child of God. The pastor directed his sermon at this, but the way he did it was what was so wonderful - he considered the frustrations and despair held by so many right now, the feeling of "I'm doing right and I still have difficulties" and, using Romans, related our present feelings to a broad and simple expression of what it means to be a Christian and to live and love. He stated that Christianity isn't a club - we don't join to get the benefits, rather it is a MOVEMENT (who doesn't love that wonderful word) - we join to be moved and to move as God and Jesus did/do, to remind ourselves of God's peace and to invite others of it. This means that to be Christian, to have faith, doesn't mean that we can trust God to bail us out of problems that we've created. He spoke of the flooding - we ask to be spared when we build our houses in flood plains, or forget to clean our gutters. God is there to help us through it, but not to take us out of it - that's not what life is about. (the pastor somehow conveyed all this without, by the way, giving a feeling of blame) He also shared the story of a local police officer who did right, but by arresting someone a small town held in high regard. The town hated the police officer and he was frustrated that he did right and yet was still being punished (how most of us middle class feel as we are pinched by food/gas/living costs). Through discussions with his wife, the police officer learned to SEE the gifts that were being provided by God (closer to his family, clear view of his morals) and to SEE HOW GOD IS CARING FOR US. So often we expect care to come in a certain way - WE ARE NOT ABANDONED. WE ARE ASKED TO BE RESPONSIBLE. That is all, and it is beautiful. This led the pastor to also point out that GOD'S PEACE AND LOVE IS ALREADY GIVEN TO US (which reminds me of what my mother has told me frequently, what she taught her sunday school students), we just have to see it for what it is and RECEIVE IT. That is very difficult, but how full of hope and reassurance to simply remember that it is there waiting for us. It works, too, though we don't see it, but we can feel it when we let it in and get even more. These experiences are what has led me to be a Christian, like I know for many others. The organization itself is a bit backwards in some areas, but so many of the individuals there come there because they want to share the news of the love God gives us. I hope I can participate more fully in this movement - YOU ARE LOVED as you are. I've been working for a fair amount of time today, at my new job, and am already catching a glimpse of all the learnings that will be available to me. This also seems to be about responsibility - the part of the mission of my company that I am a bit unsure about my feelings is the plain and simple fact that they call people out on their errors. If a company that calls themselves organic is cutting corners, Cornucopia calls them out on it. When I think of that, I am reminded of my perfectionist self who never felt/feels quite good enough. I also think of the people that work hard to earn a living yet need to sometimes spend their money on things like video games, a new IPod, or a even a porcelain turtle pendant (a purchase I made yesterday) - they may have bills to pay but their life is a bit brighter with a new toy. It may not be responsible, but it is important also. Yet what makes the Organic industry example different is that you are responsible FOR OTHERS in a way that not having integrity for it can be harmful. Sure I have a responsibility to the people I owe money to, and it is not integritous to break that promise or tell them I don't have the money this month because I bought a new pair of shoes, but ... I'm not sure where I'm going with this... essentially, I feel like the biggest thing I'm going to learn at my new job is how I feel about calling people out on their shit. No one is perfect, but we can help each other in getting better and doing better by asking each other to be responsible for ourselves. Is this uncompassionate? I think it depends on how it is done. What is more uncompassionate - to save your employees and your own job by purchasing milk from a large unorganic farm for your organic product, or to admit that you simply cannot do all that you've created - your business is well but you can't keep up and so it's time to admit humility and restructure some things or give up some greed. God knows what is better for us in the long run - sometimes we cannot continue as we began and change is called for. THE RIGHT WAY IS THE HARD WAY, but it really isn't so hard as it seems like it might be. It's actually harder the longer we don't. Addictions to the familiar and the easy-seeming. Even if it's for what we want. My boyfriend's roomate is 25, has gout and continues to drink mass amounts of alchohol. It's so easy to understand the way we live, but it is very difficult to live the way we want. Life isn't as we like it, but we all know when we learn lessons we are proud and eager to share. THIS IS HOW THE UNIVERSE LOVES US. This is what we are here for. No goal is too small to put our life on the line - to look fear and death in the face. In the end we're always better off than we were, as 99% of the time it doesn't end in physical death, but always the death of something that isn't useful. (That sounds like Saturn... smile, but as I, and nearly all of the people around me - including my parents, 30 years older than I - are either just in, totally in or just out of their Saturn Return I'd say that's appropriate). What's difficult for me about this responsibility, and I expect for most of us, is the aspect of UNCONTROLLABILITY and THE UNKNOWN. That is what has gotten our global community in a lot of the trouble it is - the effects of a chemical we created to help grow our food, the use of gas to travel in, the unease we live in with the mere existence of nuclear bombs. It is impossible to know every possible outcome for any choices we make. I'm not sure where I'm going with this part either, but I know that it is this uncontrollability that prevents me from making a lot of choices I'm not sure I want to be responsible for. I'd rather know how it will turn out, how it will feel, that it will feel as good and familiar as now, before I make it. That I won't regret my choice because it generated something BAD. Bad is a point of view. My good friend, Sarah, is reminding me of this - as she is looking for the good in things. It's one of those things that therapists or grandmothers tell you to do that makes you roll your eyes and groan. "Life sucks and you want me to smile about it?" It sure is good to complain your ass off, but then open your eyes to the gifts inside that shitty part and the answer to how to change it is inside it. So I'm trying to face that unknown in my life more bravely. My motto used to be, when I was an unstoppable youngster, "I'd rather regret doing than not doing". I have changed that now, in light of and in respect of my vulnerability, to WAIT AND SEE. It is much easier to wait and see when I allow God's Mother/Father LOVE to take me through it. HOW AWESOME! I only hope I can remember it in the midst of my despairing moments... I at least know that after the fact I remember how the love was there.... something like "knowledge is what we have after we no longer need it?" Oh to be alive! Fly with the Father's guidance, feel the Mother's hug of support! Be receptive and responsible for that which you speak for! SMOOCHES

Contracted

Lynn — Wed, 18 Jun 2008 14:14:44 GMT

I am officially a staff member of the Cornucopia Institute! (cornucopia.org) I am officially a watchdog for the organic label! I am officially on a mission for economic justice for small scale farmers! The word cornucopia is in reference to a horn of endless food... I hope that we can help make this happen!

Inside the World, With the Stressors, With the Birds

Lynn — Fri, 13 Jun 2008 02:06:47 GMT

Been missing my poetic self lately - have been doing more than being. I realized, lightly, a few times, today that that part of me is always there and perhaps more integrated now, more mature. I use my creativity no longer to escape from the world. It is simply part of the world. (particularly since my current creative force is my oh-so-grounded-garden) Though that lack of separateness may take away its center-stage-stardom, it does not remove its shine nor its soft heart space. More room has been created for softening more things. My mother, father and I watched a family of robins tonight. There's a nest that has been used by a few generations of robins above my father's shop door. This year the nest is high and tiny from being added on so much. Four babes with famished beaks are squished inside. The parents, when we are near the nest, keep a nervous and watchful eye on their children and us. "Back off from the babes!" they chitter. Then when we have backed off enough, they continue, both parents, to tend to the open mouths. One of the little ones is not so little - it is much much bigger than the rest. It is shocking to see a near-full-sized baby so young. It got brave this evening, or it fell in love, and jumped out of the nest when my father walked by - as if to say "I'm coming to you!" It landed, of course, on the ground. It proceeded to hop quite crazily across the yard, like a toddler running around. In a few minutes the parents had flown down (always one coming from each direction - to protect as well as possible) the chase after it and make sure it was okay. They looked like the stressed parents ragged from constantly keeping track of and caring for their quartet that they are. Then one stayed with the grounded one (who was still hopping ferociously across the yard) and the other continued to feed the ones in the nest. A fascinating reminder of the beauty and simplicity and connectedness of life. An opportunity to be really present - perhaps dissociated from the usual stressors. A reminder, also, perhaps, of how to step out of the world by stepping in... meaning, that simple mindfulness keeps us in the world without escaping. I think I've found today a little bit of each part of this in the world out of the world, with the stressors escaped from the stressors, found a little balance. I've been really enjoying, and loving the ability to blame, the Mercury transitions - where my communications are mixed up, where my clutziness is ridiculous, where the past suddenly emerges in the now, and all its lessons therein. Praise to you, dear Mother-Father God, for the beauty of LIFE - all its opposites.

Spirit Family

Lynn — Tue, 25 Mar 2008 19:56:35 GMT

To me your family is a bearer of unity, for you always come... together. Even when one it is a memorial flight of tribal longevity. When I see you immediately I am caused a letting go of worry as I am reminded of the Great Parents and the support in Journey. Each season's arrival is just when my spirit needs you - ah, it is not coincidence! Lending me your wings, your sage advice, I can ease through the wind - riding with, finding Gratitude and Glee. But it is the simple beauty of the curves in a long neck, voices of purpose, a quiet swim that brings me Happiness, and brings me back Home where life is eased, where there is Family. Ah Geese, I bow.

White Light Reflects

Lynn — Tue, 25 Mar 2008 19:49:07 GMT

As the light returns its reflection is all the more bright, illuminating the very thing I hadn't realized I was so ready to part with. What brought me misery, more than I imagined, was now the cause of a painful blinding, as the old and new clashed upon meeting - both wanting to remain the star. This collision a sign of upcoming personal choices and responsibilties - a time of preparation. As the light futher returns, an energy comes with it, its power is more than what it reflects, which causes this to melt away resotring my sight, cooling my anger, warming my heart. Hope, humorously, can bring out anger, like a teased child. I once was grateful for that which now blinds me, but time has come for a new season. If only all change held no grief such as this. White becomes brown then green in direct illumination. Sometimes we need the light turned on to that which we don't want to know so we can part with it.

the gift of LOVE

Lynn — Sat, 22 Mar 2008 20:21:06 GMT

As Easter arrived early this year, I've needed reminders of it - which the universe has generously been providing to get me into the true spirit of Easter. These reminders have come to teach me the value of LOVE for the greater good - the message of Easter. For quite awhile I had/have been frustrated with Christianity for worshipping Christ over God, so it seemed/seems to me. I still waffle on my stance and understanding here, as Christianity is an important community in my own life - where I have called home my whole life. The greatest attribute of the Christian community is LOVE - though sometimes tribal over universal, there is a deep bond of unconditional serving love. It is THIS LOVE that is the gift of JESUS. I have come to realize how Christ has truly saved us. No longer something metamphysical and mystical to me it is more real, timeless, and less based on damnation but a larger picture of karma. I felt today that it was simply Jesus' existing that has saved us - his message a reminder of who we are and what we can be. At a time NOW in our history when we need this reminder more than any other, we have had it so thoroughly in our genetics both as spirits and humans that we can tap into it so easily, with gratitude and faith, to bring us to that world of love that God, Jesus, and the mystics of today all promise. We needed Jesus then for as much now as we did then. Ignoring the details of who he really was and what really happened and focusing simply on what has carried over to affect us today. Christians give themselves peace by resting on the fact that Christ died so those individuals who accept that do not have to worry about the future of their souls. But I feel that it wasn't Jesus' sacrifice that saved us as much as it was a reminder of how much we are loved for simply being who we are. I was also pondering what it means to sacrifice my own desires for the sake of humanity - could I bear the purpose that Jesus did, whatever it was it contained pain and rejection? Can I do this in my own life? As I've been coming to understand my plight as an EMPATH I've been resenting how it limits me and has limited me - yes I LOVE but is my faith and connection to that divine love strong enough to surrender my own desires? Right now, it's not. This itself is limiting me, but also holds value. I can remember that simply being who I am serves a greater purpose, that my pain serves myself and others as do my desires. I look forward to seeing how this pans out for myself, and how the universal community comes into its own Christ period - the age of LOVE unconditional. So this Easter I will remember that at our core we are love and are loved, that time is relative - that NOW was considered even THEN. I begin to find my faith. ALL is GOD, ALL is LOVE - no matter how "ugly". I will choose to worship with my fellow Christians, honoring both the life of Jesus and the power of God. Namaste and Happy Easter!

juggle of one and two

Lynn — Sun, 20 Jan 2008 16:41:32 GMT

one soul reaching for the other if only our skin was not such a bother we could be the one that our spirits think they are 'let me in!' you say to my skin 'get outta my way' to yours I say we laugh at our absurd souls as Love melts the boundaries a mirror we may be yet a stranger I see when off in the land of our individual I's "who's that?" I ask "not sure what to do" says you we surrender and learn for this, too, is love's earn no where else could I be but here in this union-of-journey the ebb and flow of one and two 'thank you' said we to the Divine He-She and to us as we seize for we grow with ease (I notice the more I hang out with a two-year old, the more my poetry reflects Dr. Seuss...)

Tradition of Grief

Lynn — Mon, 31 Dec 2007 18:35:46 GMT

A week before Christmas my grandmother, my last remaining grandparent, left this world for another or the next. The day after Christmas my boyfriend's grandfather passed on. Both of these wonderful spirits spend the last few years of their life in tremendous suffering, so their passing became a celebration for them "congratulations!" But those of us left behind still had much to experience as a result. I'd like to share what I've been learning, as these experiences were more full than any other deaths I had experienced because, as an adult now, I am much more available emotionally to be fully present. I had previously always thought that wakes and funerals were some morbid thing for us to do for the dead - what did they care? Why would we look at their empty bodies, resembling nothing of the person anymore, when they weren't in them? I dreaded looking at my grandmother - looking at death in the face (not experiencing it myself, but seeing it) and facing my fears of its, apparently, bizarreness. I expected a horrendously dramatic emotional breakdown, complete with screaming. :) Or worse yet, no response at all. (the shame) Experiencing the wake, I learned immediately, as I watched my father's process with it (as it was his mother), that this tradition is purely for those remaining. When I was younger I would have thought this selfish, but now I see it as oh so important. Seeing the empty body with a face of peace gives our own spirit closure - "yup, see, she's really gone". Seeing all the people that came and supported my family and my father, many who didn't really know her, and how much it meant to my father and me, showed me the importance of that support. At the funeral, I felt the deep bond my family and I hold, and the release of the bond that my grandmother held with us. It also was a glorius opportunity to understand life, death, and praise the beauty of this process and to praise GOD. Words of comfort, not knowing why they were needed, flooded through and nurtured those in attendance. I felt my grandmother happy and proud to see all those who cared about her and her family - glad to see how she touched everyone in different ways, who knew her in different ways. Understandings and peace for all those left behind. The cards we were given continued to shower God's love on us at home. Grieving is a long process - most people just offer care in the immediate, but I see it as a continual need in differing forms. This process brought more grief out from my mother who is still, after seven years, pining for her own mother. Whether or not the sender of these cards intended to have the words affect us so does not matter - they touched our hearts b/c God knows we needed them. These people were God's vessels whether they knew it or not. A borage of emotions, I'm sure many of you know, hit you randomly and constantly through these processes. It's a rare gift when I actually understand what they are :) Lately I've been feeling a void where someone's attention and love used to be directed at me. The power of a gift I didn't even know I was being given. I am grateful for the energy her heart send in my direction, and with the understanding of the power of these simple cares I am strengthened to pray for those I love. I felt compassionate, naturally, towards my boyfriend's family (whom I had just met the day prior on Christmas) and wanted to give in return what I had been given. I shared words from my heart on what I had learned - sending blessings of feeling the power of God's love in every thing, person and word; being patient in the transitions of identity... Feeling still like a newbie I included some caring words I found on the good old internet by someone famous that I've never heard of, but they so beautifully guided the reader through the process of cherishing memories, holding that while letting the person go. Both of these ended up being read at the funeral, and kept by the spouse. I was not able to attend, so to know that my simple thoughts carried so far made me feel I had done what I had intended and then some. I share this simply to impart what I had learned from the experience about the tradition of grief, to give a nudge if you're thinking of someone who has lost someone (no matter how long) to share that thought with them, and to offer you reminders of God's providence if you are grieving. The biggest lesson I got was a big, humble punch that the people who have gone before me really did know what they were doing - these rituals are here for an amazing reason. Questioning everyone and questioning tradition may seem to be the thing now, but really, I limit myself from the real reasons they were there - I am not the first to have emotion and passion. Tradition was set up based on other's real, loving response to their own emotions and passions. So I send a tremendous Thank you to those who have gone on before me - including my grandmother. I also send an I LOVE YOU to all who are in my life - even if it's just your avatar on my tribe friends list. LIFE GOES ON, HERE AND THERE, and IT IS BEAUTIFUL.

Cotton Crystals

Lynn — Fri, 09 Nov 2007 18:08:59 GMT

it began big like cotton the crystals so clear and one could hardly see as more and more drew near a look up transported to the world inside a cloud in awe one would choke on what heaven and earth endowed not a sound in the slow motion except the laughter of pure joy the pain of it so illustrious if only it to all I could deploy it is the great connector earth colored of heaven's white light covering all in love's warmth a reminder of what's right as we head into hibernation the reflection of old in the cold our creator blankets us and so we are consoled the great body finds balance and nourishes as contact was made this cycle exposed the crystals melted on warmth to reveal water enclosed as time passed on so the numbers grew and the cotton shrank perhaps dividing like cells in order to paint everything blank homeward bound wet from head to toe a peace settled on blessed be from this snow.

blind bravery

Lynn — Fri, 09 Nov 2007 17:25:36 GMT

(I wrote an incredible and thoughtful poem on this yesterday, and it was lost, I'll try to re-live it later, but consider this in honor of the original)

feeling is not without examination

Lynn — Wed, 07 Nov 2007 19:41:27 GMT

I had replaced my idea of philosopher from one of logical analyzing retained in the head to purely feeling and witnessing retained in the core. I have been gently reminded today, perhaps by self, that they compliment each other like the earth and the heavens, and reside in union in my heart; meaning simply, that I cannot forget self examination, for sometimes things hide or at least my brain is not unusable and is important in revealing what I value. Thus, my heart is my compass, always pointing N-orth to the N-ow but not without the intuition for next steps. Feeling wise now, I wonder if I shall go off and do these things....and listen... diligence over convenience makes me grumble even though upon completion I soar. Somewhere.... nay heart, nor head, nor core, I still believe in perfection.... may this poor part surrender its quest in the name of love. (I am not in a sappy enough mood for this.... er, um, to be more honest = "grrrr, I have work to do, I don't wanna, and don't care if I really don't have to b/c I do.")

girls, women, and love - the transformations they hold

Lynn — Fri, 02 Nov 2007 16:31:14 GMT

girls: "Man dazzles her, and yet he scares her, too. In order to accomodate the contradictory feelings she bears toward him, she will dissociate the male in him that frightens her and the bright divinity whom she piously adores. Abrupt and shy with her male comrades, she idolizes some distant Prince Charming." - Simone de Beauvior, The Second Sex women - upon entering womanhood: "She does not confine herself, however, to contesting negatively the situation imposed upon her; she endeavors also to compensate for its inadequacies. If the future scares her, the present dissatisfies her; she hesitates to become a woman; she is vexed to be still only a child, she has already left her past behind, but she has not yet entered upon a new life. She is busy, but she does nothing; because she does nothing, she has nothing, she is nothing. She must fill this void with playacting and falsification. She is often reproached for being shy, untruthful, a "storyteller". The fact is that she is doomed to secrecy and lies. At sixteen a woman has already been through painful ordeals; puberty, monthlies, awakening of sexuality, first desires, first fevers, fears, disgusts, equivocal experiences; she has stored all this up in her heart, and she has learned to guard her secrets carefully. The single fact of having to hid her menstrual cloths and conceal her condition has already accustomed her to prevarication." - Simone de Beauvior, The Second Sex Women: "She is much too divided against herself to join battle with the world; she limits herself to a flight from reality or a symbolic struggle against it." - Simone again Love: "Love and the wound of the heart always seem to go hand in hand, like light and shadow. No matter how powerfully we fall in love with someone, we rarely soar above our fear and distrust for very long. Indeed, the more brightly another person lights us up, teh more this activates the shadow of our wounding and brings it to the fore." - John Welwood, Perfect Love, Imperfect Relationships Praise and peace to all you goddesses and lovers! A nice link to various goddesses and their gifts to us: http://www.goddessflight.com/goddesses.php

elizabeth

Lynn — Fri, 26 Oct 2007 17:17:45 GMT

our battle made union in grief unspoken we heard with great reluctance we shook hands she allowed me to remove her deep self-inflicted sword and say goodbye love embraces all that leaves and is left I honor her and respect myself and step forward as one our desires so simliar attachments to them sacred flowers upon this day of remembrance and openness to hope

the door

Lynn — Tue, 02 Oct 2007 19:45:49 GMT

(continued from 'the window that is not a window') I wait... wait for the answer to my question, though with the closed ears of expectation. The light dispells. As it leaves, my cells sense that in order to maintain it, I must continually and regularly invite in the light. It is the same work that I left sitting. The same work I find through every window. It is as I see it. The effort in change. As I continue to wait for my compass the sun rises and I turn from my window back to the tasks of living. I hear music in the next room - sweet, inviting, familiar. How long has it been playing that I only now hear it? A longing in me arises. I am inticed to move. An excitement rises as I, forgetting to breathe, fly and roll and love. Here is something that I will surrender all (except my breath, I wonder) for one heart melting ride. A trip over my own feet sends me crashing to the floor, and my body shakes. I've done this before, I think, and my breath causes me to look up. In front of me is a door. 'Oh yes', I think, 'I know this door, I thought I had lost it.' I gently get up, thanking my body for its gifts, and open the door. Behind it is another door a warm healing breeze wafting through. God provides when needed once again. I open the next door. And there is another door. Then another. And another. And another. And another. And another. I violently throw my shoes at the present door in anger. Why continue to open each door presented, all the work, when I have no idea if they'll open out to where I want to go - or anywhere? I turn back to my room, yet all I see is the door. Ready to scream in confusion, I feel a warmth on my shoulder. 'What am I fighting?' I decide to try the door again, and look for my shoes so my feet may be supported. They are not there. And I experience that every gain has its loss. Perhaps they, too, are the same. I briefly mourn my shoes for am brightened as the earthen floor feels good against my bare feet. In my pockets are all the things I need. With gratitude and fear I reach for the door again. (I may share as this continues... but I feel it is no different than the story of us all. I will meet my same challenges over and over and one day not notice when they've gone. I let this be a simple gift of the reminder of provide-nce - a proof that we are loved. The rest is up to us. May we have the courage and serenity to see what is here.) Serenity Prayer by Reinhold Niebuhr (1892-1971) God, give us grace to accept with serenity the things that cannot be changed, Courage to change the things which should be changed, and the Wisdom to distinguish the one from the other. Living one day at a time, Enjoying one moment at a time, Accepting hardship as a pathway to peace, Taking, as Jesus did, This sinful world as it is, Not as I would have it, Trusting that You will make all things right, If I surrender to Your will, So that I may be reasonably happy in this life, And supremely happy with You forever in the next. "Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge God, and God will direct your paths." - Proverbs 3, 5-6 I have always liked this verse, but am only beginning to understand faith and trust. They are completely blind, in at least that I cannot see at all what or who I am trusting, that I will like it - but I am beginning to see (as I have over and over) that all works for the good and it is better than I. This is not a compass for the now. And that is where I still struggle. It, too, will come. THE PRAYER OF ST. FRANCIS Lord, make me a channel of thy peace, that where there is hatred, I may bring love; that where there is wrong, I may bring the spirit of forgiveness; that where there is discord, I may bring harmony; that where there is error, I may bring truth; that where there is doubt, I may bring faith; that where there is despair, I may bring hope; that where there are shadows, I may bring light; that where there is sadness, I may bring joy. Lord, grant that I may seek rather to comfort than to be comforted; to understand, than to be understood; to love, than to be loved. For it is by self-forgetting that one finds. It is by forgiving that one is forgiven. It is by dying that one awakens to Eternal Life. smooches!!!! Lynn

times twelve

Lynn — Wed, 26 Sep 2007 15:04:49 GMT

There is no telling what time unfolds, and it seems easier on the heart to not bother measuring the wretched relative thing, for attempted measurement feels like competition; and one will surely never win. - me, today

the window that is not a window

Lynn — Thu, 23 Aug 2007 18:53:19 GMT

(continued from the window) I feel empowered standing in front of the open window. Safe in patience, time to breathe in the sensations, no thing to do. As my eyes close, my heart opens. Dormant desires awaken. Desires that felt they had no reason to arise, for there was no knowledge they could. I open my eyes to the window again. I look with the curiosity of a child with no thing to lose. The longer I look, the more I see, and what I see is everything I already knew. Despair wells. What a waste of time! Nothing is different, the window gave me nothing! I shut the window in anger, and to cover my fear and sadness. I turn to face my task, tears silently falling. Then I am startled, for sitting in the middle of the room, when it arrived I do not know, is a white dove. It illuminates the room somehow, its coos soft like peaceful breaths of joy. I am stopped by its organic beauty and light. Everything else disappears in my mind and heart, and I begin to sob with love for such a beautiful creation - present here with me though I had not let it in. And it is here I get my message. I fall to my knees, and look up to the heavens. "God, forgive me for not seeing or hearing, my truth stands in the way of Yours. With gratitude I now see all Your gifts. Thank You for being active in my life though I do not let You in. I now open my heart to you, to let You heal my fears and my sadness, and to let You guide me." I open my eyes and the dove is flying towards me, my hands open to catch it intuitively. I allow myself to feel God's love, now inside me rather than apart. I experience so clearly that giving and receiving are in fact the same thing. I draw breath as if for the first time, and feel a bowl-shaped piece reunited with my soul. The dirt around me no longer seems so important. It will be done in its own time. I carry the dove to the window, to set it free. Forgetting I had shut it, I look up to see a reflection I know so well. Nothing in the reflection is different. But there is now an acceptance about it, and a trust that all is as it should be. I feel a subtle mix of all my familiar feelings, strongest, for now, is a soft heart. Questions remain regarding decisions - what will happen next? I open the window restating my prayer of guidance, and I set all free with the dove. (to be continued)

elect-ricity

Lynn — Tue, 21 Aug 2007 22:31:59 GMT

We got the first storm in a long time last night. We were all glad for the rain, as the ground needed it. I was happy as it is very nostalgic and cleansing. I had forgotten that when I was a child it was more often than not that the power went out during a lightening storm - if even only for a second. Last night the power went out, and stayed out, for two or three hours. This revealed a couple of things: I am an electricity addict. With all my environmental efforts and passions, I found it difficult to last long without my beloved power. No tea, couldn't open the fridge for fear of ruining all the food, no phone, no tv or computer, no time (oh the agony), no light - except the few candles I had and the couple of flashlights that actually worked... even my yoga involves electricity if I want music or a dvd's instruction! I was simply amazed, at how much I do that uses electricity. It's one thing I simply don't consider much, which surprised me as I feel I always consider the earth first. I can imagine adjustments to living without electricity to be not too difficult to make with all the things out there, but, in reality, I know I would feel a great sense of loss and lack of security without as much heat, and no computer, and the lack of freedom from being able to do things whenever I wanted (like make tea at 10pm rather than wait until I had use for the hot water or the fire or whatever...) I guess I really don't know that much about what it would be like. Something I am eager to live on my own again to put to research. But I have a question - does every experience of loss have some form of regret, always illuminating what we could not see how much we appreciated? It gives me a new respect and softness for loss, a lesson of love rather than victimhood. Catastrophe, no matter how small, brings people together (which, usually, is some loss). TV usually separates my family in the evening - we never spend time together. Last night my brother and I chatted, my mother and I played games (though they made fun of my excitement over the outage and for wanting to spend time), the neighbors shared and discussed the issue and how to resolve it. In the end, we called the automated electrician and saw a truck majically come out and the lights restored. People help no matter what the hour - agreeing to the unpleasant sides of their jobs because they believe in their work. I wished I could have applauded or shown my appreciation in some way. Perhaps a Thank You? The quiet and the darkness was welcome rather than scary - a first for me in quite awhile. We can always elect to turn off the power and learn some contenment for less and gratitude. Gracious Father/Mother, and being of moving power, I give you great thanks for things electric, for convenience, for loss, for love, for pleasure, and for the choice in how I do the things I do. Thank you for showering me with this gift, this energy. And for forgiving me for taking advantage of it. I know it is from you, for it is full of divine power and fearful awe. Help me learn to respect your gift, and you in this electric form and all forms you take. Blessed Be!

the window

Lynn — Wed, 15 Aug 2007 02:31:08 GMT

While cleaning a room, I feel a draft, and notice a window has been opened. I hadn't thought to look through it, as experience told me it was not necessary. Yet the window was opened and I affected. Was it opened for me? Or did I wander in where I need not tred? It's too late to turn back. All my plans put into question, and the questions show themselves worthwhile. Am I cold now? Or is it a warm breeze? What is out the window and does it appeal to me? It's nighttime, and through the open window I hear the call of crickets and it calms me, revealing my feelings. I am afraid to go to the window, because although I've looked before I cannot recall the view I am also a different person now. I do not know who opened this window up, and I do not know what I will see. I do not even know if I can see out it let alone have the strength to shut it or open it wider if I so choose. I look at the room I have cleaned. I do not feel finished with it. I have grown to love this chore. For heaven's sake, what if I have a desire to go through to window to what's on the other side, leaving my task unfinished! Could I handle the guilt of my irresponsibility? Yet, if I do not go to the window and it was opened for me I would also fail. On either side I see failure. I sit in a chair, my mind quiet. I feel the breeze on my skin. It is comfortable now, no longer a stranger. I realize I can never know what is in any window until I look. I also realize that to finish my task brings great joy. On either side I see success. Yet something is missing. Once upon a time I recall running with full zest at every window, open or closed, doing as I wished. Where has that zest gone? Saddness consumes me as I feel the hole created. It is as if one of those windows blew it out and away, leaving me less alive. Perhaps this window could return that zest. Perhaps it will return if I continue to clean. Perhaps it is not meant to return. All is unknown. All is unknown. All is unknown. I find myself asking, "What is my heart's desire?" I am unsure of the answer. Saying silent prayers of love, I walk up to the window. I look out into the night sky, hear the crickets, smell the damp air, and feel my breath flow in and out. (to be continued)

angry girl music

Lynn — Mon, 06 Aug 2007 19:45:09 GMT

My anxiety peaked last night and today, which is simply something in me screaming to come out. The reason it comes up as anxiety is because it's been hidden, or is something from someone else I've picked up, so I simply just don't know what it is. It takes time to continually notice it and ask it to come out. That's hard when "I just don't know what's wrong". I won't konw what it is until I've released it - it makes itself known when it is released. How to go about releasing? - follow (trying not to get caught up) I hit a stress breaking point when I came back from a nerve-wracking business appointment to two of our house dogs violently playing at my feet, the third barking from the other room with construction workers outside making a racket while trying to have a conversation with my mother. I broke from our conversation to scream out to the two dogs at my feet in clear severity "Knock it off and shut up so I can have five minutes of peace". Not an uncommon demand from my mouth, or anyone else's in this household, but I guess it was the strength of my voice so clearly asking for peace which scared me or the repetitiveness of hating each time it occured finally winning out, but when my mom left for work a minute later I separated all the dogs and grabbed my guitar wishing I could play angry girl music. My guitar has only felt a substitute for dancing or when I need a creative outlet but don't have one or I need to exercise my voice but don't know what to say. I don't feel like I'm a music/vocal artist and have no desire to write my own songs or perform. I simply like singing folk music and spiritual hymns. It's been a tool for expressing or developing love and another physical skill - but even as those at a minimum. But today I allowed it to be a tool in its simplest form for self expression. I just strummed back and forth between D and G and started babbling whatever came out. It came out a hilarious angry girl song. Singing the tantrum of an angry queen who can't get anyone to listen or follow her glorious commands - laughing at the extremely silly arrogance it turned into straight anger. Self-directed. Then sadness. I was simply so heartbroken that I was yelling, that there was so much yelling - yelling because no one would listen. I can't say how far the tears went back. I felt the familiar heat of release pass through my body. The quiet raw afterwards. The source of the anger - the pure unacceptance of it - still there. Though I felt I came closer to finding anger's beauty. It is a gift, afterall. (I now wonder if it is my sensitivity to others and my environment that is poisoning this further - as all the members, animals included, of this household are ridden with feelings of confused hate. I've been debating this week whether to flee for a 40 hr job, or to slowly continue my progression until I'm on my own on my terms doing what I love. A constant question. The universe seems to juggle me back and forth with its answers - none of it seeming fair.) But the point - it felt GOOD to notice this, to release it, to find a new connection to my musicality, more ways to thoroughly express my feelings (prior only movement really let it out)... to give them a voice. And (ah, here's the connection to the quote I read today: "you love whatever you give your attention") to find out just how much I loved expressing what I so despised - being so angry. I have become an angry girl musician. I don't know how often it will come out. I'm not sure I want anyone else to share in that intensity - it seems unnecessary at that level. I'm not yet sure I'm okay with it. Not sure. It's always uncomfortable loving what you hate.

Petition to revoke school's "no touch" policy

Lynn — Fri, 27 Jul 2007 16:47:58 GMT

Greetings friends and loved ones! While I greatly appreciate all the work those who manage our public schools put in, sometimes with all they have to deal with they need our help! Perhaps you've read in recent weeks about a school in Vienna, VA that punishes students for all bodily contact. (For NPR's coverage go to: "http://www.npr.org/blogs/news/2007/06/dealing_with_va_schools_total_1.html">http://www.npr.org/blogs/news/2007/06/dealing_with_va_schools_total_1.html) As this touches on my most personal values, (and seeing all the thousands of responses on line) I have drawn up a petition in response to give people a voice on the care2.com petition site. If you feel there are better ways of managing our children and wish to sign or if you simply want to read my letter to the school officals, please visit the site below. Feel free to pass the word on! href="http://www.thepetitionsite.com/1/help-revoke-the-quotno-touchingquot-policy-at-kilmer-middle-school-in-vienna-va">http://www.thepetitionsite.com/1/help-revoke-the-quotno-touchingquot-policy-at-kilmer-middle-school-in-vienna-va</a> In peace, love and healthy development through touch, Lynn Christianson

prunella vulgaris

Lynn — Tue, 19 Jun 2007 22:26:57 GMT

Whilst rolling, tumbling and breathing under my dear friend Emily, our immature maple, in the sun and wind today, Gaia gave me a present that I had long been trying to give myself - I turned over to face our mother and came face to face with my present: "Oh, that's Prunella Vulgaris." Funny, in that ah-yes-this-is-how-things-work way, how I had been searching for its purple loveliness for so long, not knowing how amongst all the purple "weeds" which one it would be and as soon as I stopped looking for it Gaia showed me that I already knew. :) I gratefully accepted my gift and am now sharing its goodness ... before I eat it. Prunella Vulgaris, or Heal-All, is a common weed that usually doesn't get to its potential visual splendor because everyone mows it over. Look for it where your dandelions just finished blooming - about 4 cm tall. It really is a heal all herb, as it is a general tonic for everything: "Prunella Vulgaris is an edible and medicinal herb, and can be used in salads, soups, stews, or boiled as a pot herb. Used as an alternative medicine for centuries on just about every continent in the world, and for just about every ailment known to man, Heal-All is something of a panacea, it does seem to have some medicinal uses that are constant. Prunella's most useful constituents are Betulinic-acid, D-Camphor, Delphinidin, Hyperoside, Manganese, Oleanolic-acid, Rosmarinic-acid, Rutin, Ursolic-acid, and Tannins. The whole plant is medicinal as alterative, antibacterial, antipyretic, antiseptic, antispasmodic, astringent, carminative, diuretic, febrifuge, hypotensive, stomachic, styptic, tonic, vermifuge and vulnerary. A cold water infusion of the freshly chopped or dried and powdered leaves is a very tasty and refreshing beverage, weak infusion of the plant is an excellent medicinal eye wash for sties and pinkeye. Prunella is taken internally as a medicinal tea in the treatment of fevers, diarrhea, sore mouth and throat, internal bleeding, and weaknesses of the liver and heart. Clinical analysis shows it to have an antibacterial action, inhibiting the growth of pseudomonas, Bacillus typhi, E. coli, Mycobacterium tuberculi, which supports its use as an alternative medicine internally and externally as an antibiotic and for hard to heal wounds and diseases. It is showing promise in research for herpes, cancer, AIDS, diabetes, and many other maladies. Recent research shows that application of Prunella Vulgaris is helpful in controlling herpes outbreaks" - from allnature.com Gaia's cycles to make its rounds and gives us what we need (how silly of me to forget) - "to everything there is a season." Spring is dandelion delight, and Summer is time for Prunella. Just a reminder of how readily Gaia provides and for us to make use of it. I'm planning to pot some so I can let them get taller - they can get to a foot tall! Happy herbing. :)

The Woods

Lynn — Mon, 23 Apr 2007 14:08:33 GMT

(at the Christine Center in Willard, WI) Silent patterns Extend to each horizon, An eerieness settles Behind the peaceful stillness. It is there that the mystery reveals. Once deep within, feeling lost, the Path I am standing on Stands out more clearly - The forks in the path More inviting; the choice easier. For it I take this path now I know I can come back next time for the other. Standing in the middle, A heaviness weighs, In the form of sharp, expanded awareness. Extensions of the trees Leave a blanket of death On the floor, Feeding new life. The sounds of nature Move like my breath: Creaking, rustling, calling, crunching - pause. I feel at once a God-fearing reverence, At awe of the beauty I am enveloped by, And also uncomfortable enough To come out And look at the woods from afar With a sigh of relief. The breath of the woods Is a constant beckoning That echos everywhere Like a shadow. Each night the creatures come out To feed upon my lawn, Theirs familiar faces of kindred spirits Muted except through eyes and stance. For them the woods are a sanctuary Of safety from my world, Content with the dangers of their own. A nod of understanding, And the boundary remains, the connection of life deepened.

In honor of Earth Day 2007

Lynn — Mon, 23 Apr 2007 13:39:14 GMT

She breathes, and I move. She nurtures and nourishes, and I thrive. She cries, and I see her and recognize her body as my own. I participate, and the Spirit touches us both. A cycle is reflected, again and again, and in it is the essence of beauty - how can I not respond? written for April 22, 2007

Burgeoning

Lynn — Fri, 23 Mar 2007 15:26:46 GMT

Light and warmth arouses The torpidity of reflection. A welcome shock of newness Springs forth as the dead Is left behind. Stretching long to breathe, Reborn with new buds, Eager to reach out and Receive the freshness of life, Which is flowing full tilt. Need not strive to connect with source, For all is source; and it is felt - A relief from solitary searching. Blossoming into the new year, Bewildered by new sprouts, Bursting with song in the Disquiet of strange; The blackberry winter is lost, To be exposed and to expose When the newness has worn off. All is welcomed, For it is guided and nurtured by source, Though not always seen. I am not alone - I am with you. Holding hands, We burgeon into the luster. (photo from http://www.goatlike.com)

yin yang

Lynn — Fri, 02 Mar 2007 17:41:05 GMT

I once wrote a poem called "Balance Is Not My Struggle", here is the part of me that gets in the way of this: It is often difficult to tell when it is a healing pain or an indicator to stop when the adrenaline is of real fear or of extreme joy when I need a rest from life or actually need to do more when that craving comes to me from body or from addiction when a feeling is conjured from desire or reaction when memory as lesson or unrelinquished attachment when I see or want to see I want love or just let me be harmony is what the world runs by now am I able to hear and comprehend as it is best or need I not bother for it just all does it on its own and the drama keeps me from boredom or to keep balance