Observations

On a less personal and more observational note ~ So aside from being in the front row and a little bit nervous about that because the majority of the appropriate congregation ritual response was happening behind me, having a front row observation point for the (very Catholic) ceremony was really interesting from a theoretical perspective (brought up Lutheran, have identified as witch since the mid/late 80s).  Very hard, of course, from the personal perspective, I ended up sitting where it felt like the giant photo of my nephew at the front was looking right at me, which was very eery.  

But back to the theoreticals -- since we're talking about elements, in an effort to keep somewhat grounded, I was looking for how the elements appear in the ritual.  

Fire is obvious in the candles. And it being the Catholic church, of course they had the little place that probably has a name I don't know where you can light a candle.  Outside, there was a huge 'cave' with Mary, and there were candles you could light out there too.  M2 lit one out there, but was too nervous/teary eyed in the church to leave my side.  For context, this is all happening on the campus of a Jesuit university and everything that goes along with that.  So, there's fire.   

Fire and air mix with the charcoal and incense.  So, counting that as air, but the church was ginormous, so it also had a very airy feeling generally.  Lots of space.

Water too was relatively easy to find, in the water shaker thing, that probably has a name I don't know, as well as the holy water at the back of the church, baptismal font, etc.  

Earth stumped me for a bit, but then I saw all kinds of earth.  Marble, flowers (so many flowers)... Not so much "earthy" earth stuff as solid forms.  The altar was very solid appearing.  The architecture was very solid around the edges.  So that was a fascinating exercise. 

The priest did a good job of recognizing that there were a lot of non-Catholics present and explaining parts of the ceremony in a way that was both informative but that melded beautifully with the service itself. He did a really nice job of 'here is why and how we do this' providing context and meaning to something that might have been otherwise empty ritual.  "In the Catholic funerary tradition we bless the remains because all humans are special and sacred in God's eyes," etc. 

There is a deep deep beauty about much of it, but the layers of patriarchy & 'you are sinful and you should feel really really bad about it' that are present almost overwhelms any of the potential for joy around the life everlasting, the generosity of willing sacrifice and love, and the grace and appreciation of having those sins absolved.  It's quite a conflict to hold in oneself.  Two such disparate spaces to maintain -- 'I am not good enough, but I am so deeply loved that... I'm good enough'?   And perhaps that's a fundamentally necessary part of the mystery component of the personal gnosis of the Christian faith, the transformative core.  

I will likely be an observer of the Christian church for the rest of my life as the dominant religious paradigm of the larger social networks within which I live.  I cannot subscribe to the faith in good faith for more reasons than I wish to go into here.  I feel like my thoughts here are being left unresolved, like I should have a summary about what it means to be observing these things from the outside.  But I don't have the words to articulate it right now. Perhaps another time.

....

Perhaps it is this:  our challenge as spiritual people, whatever our non/denomonation, whatever our personal and community practice is, our challenge as priest/ess/ex (or dedicant, or aspirant), is to identify what is good, what is right, what is beautiful and with care and love incorporate the *essence* of what works (care and love preclude inappropriate appropriation -- the difference as the Dali Lama notes is that you *pick* a flower you like, you *water* a flower you love.  Just because you like something doesn't mean it's yours to practice...).  It may be beyond my capability to articulate this message of inclusion of The Good, while making clear the boundaries where Good becomes Bad -- but they're there.  There is a deep spiritual yearning, and it is the role of the priest/ess/ex to help guide people to and through that yearning.  

Loss & Grief

My nephew (husband's side of the family) committed suicide a week ago.  Almost 24 years to the date my aunt (my side of the family) did the same.

Here is what I'm thinking right now around things relevant to this particular blog.  

I think memorials and setting aside time for grieving with family and friends (blood, chosen, or otherwise) is critical for recognizing grief, celebrating a life even if it was too short, and processing loss.  

And I think it's important for our kids as I... I want them to see and experience the rip in the fabric of the universe that a suicide leaves as a preventive measure.  You never take that lightly again after you've seen a shattered community after something like this.  As much as I hate that this is a real thing that has happened, goddamn it, I think we should absorb the result as much as humanly possible and make the repercussions and difficulties of coping as human as possible because to do otherwise is to deny the full experience of the pain of losing someone in such an untimely way.  It's ok to show that this is difficult because it *is* fucking difficult.  And to see people appropriately grieving in the different ways that people grieve is also important.  It takes many forms and each person experiences it differently and that's also ok. 

I want them to understand that healing begins with us all coming together to alleviate the alone-ness: of what we feel in the moment of hearing the news. Of what he must have felt to not be able to reach out and find the help he needed.  Of the hole left in the universe where he used to be. 

I know our oldest has had some exposure to suicide by students attending her school in the last couple years, but this is new for our youngest and... to see and grieve and understand the repercussions to family and community and for them both to tell people they love that they love them and to hear that back and to take part in some of the only shared rituals that happen in this mostly secular society and a family that doesn't share ritual space often is...  It's really important.  It's part of what it means to be a part of a community, to have a connection to people.  You take part in the rituals that mark passage of both time and life both joyous and devastating.

-----------------------------

And so, for those reading along, say it out loud, right now:

"I promise to seek and find help if I feel like dying or killing myself.  I will find resources that bring me back from the brink, no matter how awkward it feels.  I will call one of these numbers:

• National Suicide Prevention Lifeline -- 1 (800) 273-8255
• Hopeline -- 1 (800) SUICIDE
•  Trans Lifeline -- US: (877) 565-8860 Canada: (877) 330-6366
•  My therapist
•  *A* therapist
•  My spiritual/pastoral advisor or other resource 
• Or any number of other resources, even if I have to Google them."

*Yes, I do not have comments open on this one. I appreciate your thoughts and prayers at this time, but for my own self-care, recognize I don't  feel like I can appropriately respond here at this time. Thanks for your understanding.

Traveling Reflections

So, trying to process what just happened, as well as intermittent quiet moments on the bus thoughts, as well as tomorrow's re-entry to work world.  I feel like I need a 2-3 month sabbatical to get my thoughts and life sorted out.  
I'm back from Ireland.  We did a Rick Steves tour around the island. It hit so much, and there seemed to be more and more packed into each day until at the end, there was sometimes three or four days worth of things to do packed into a single day.  It was good, but somewhat intense.  E.g., Giant's Causeway, Bushmills, Carrick-A-Rede ropebridge, *and* Dunluce Castle all in one day?  And then there were days where we only did a few things (stop by Yeats' grave, walking tour of Derry's medieval wall & brief explanation of Northern Irelands "Troubles" OR the day we did both Titanic and had a quick drive past the "peace" wall in Belfast and through those areas), but which demanded more processing and reflection.  

Things that stand out in reflection -- 

• How close all the buildings are together.  And how close all the graves are too.  Sometimes things seem to be practically on top of each other, they're so close together.  
• How rocky and desolate the western part is.  There are places where people were building stone walls, just to put the rocks somewhere so they can clear some useful space.  And yet -- not lifeless-- there is life in those cracks.  In the Burren, in the grikes, the cracks between the rocks, there are plants happily growing away.  What at first glance seems to be totally barren, supports all kinds of life. It stretches so far that as you drive through, it's easy to forget that it isn't all rock and rock fences, so it's a bit of a surprise when it starts ending and hedgerows start appearing again.  
• And how the green is so green after the grey of the limestone.
• That people are ingenious in their ability & drive to find solutions that will allow them to live.  That they are likewise so ruthless in their drive to overcome both nature and people who might stand in their way in both the name of survival as well as in the name of ideology.
• ...

So much more to contemplate.  I went, sort of secretly hoping for an obvious message bringing clarity to come to me. I was so immersed in the ingestion of everything new and very close quarters (and little time for reflection) that openings for receiving clarifications and direction were not as available as I had hoped.  Still in the quieter moments, things did come through.  

I feel as though I have been on the brink of needed change for some time.  It is still unclear to me as to the nature of this change except that it concerns the need to find a way to be comfortable in my skin, a sense of economy of effort, at work.  My stress and focus is so high around my present way of being in relation to the work I do, that it cannot be sustained.  My ratio of effort to outcome is way too high.  And although on the surface, it may appear to be "the perfect job for me", I have a growing sense that it is not a good fit.  The complications start, as they do, when I try to identify what 'better fit' looks like.  

I (mostly) felt in my skin with a balanced economy of effort on vacation.  There were, of course, moments of tension, but five introverts living in close proximity will tend to generate some of that with the days going as they did. All things considered, it was remarkably smooth. 

How to keep beginner's mind, while assuming the mantle of authority?  How to create space for reflection and consideration in the face of immediacy?  How to accurately name and acknowledge emerging issues in such a way that they can be resolved without adding additional layers of complexity?  How many more questions in my head?

If I could make a living for a while with spinning & weaving, I would.  Alas, that math has not been conducive given my relatively slow pace of production (although ritual cord spun according to astrological and other specifications, with specific intent during the spinning, plying, and potential coloring? Prayer shawls woven similarly? Is an entertaining idea to consider on occasion).  But that's neither here nor there.   

Cannot process all things today... but looking for something that I can grasp as I return to the world of routine that has been less than optimal.   For today I take these things:

• Economy of effort.  Do not burn too hot, little fire, burn steady. 
• *Make* space for reflection and consideration, even in the face of immediacy.  
• Ask the beginner questions.  Beginner's mind is to be treasured.  

Wheel of the Year

Ohhhhhh thheeeeeeeeeeeee
Wheel of the Year turns round and round,
Round and round,
Round and round,
Oh the Wheel of the Year turns round and round,
All through time!

M1 asked me last night why she's considered a summer baby as mid-September is totally Fall territory in our minds.  I told her it's because we've lost the cross-quarter days of an agricultural calendar & the general population is confused and calls June 21st, Summer Solstice, "The first day of summer," when in fact it's mid-summer, (hence it's other name, 'mid-sommer').  May 1st/Beltane is the first day of summer, and spring begins way back in February as the days slowly begin to be noticeably longer, and (some) seeds and bulbs start germinating in time for mid-spring to be in March at the Vernal Equinox.

Yes, that means that fall is upon us, in August!  The second major harvest festival of the year! And we have another two harvest festivals -- Autumnal Equinox to catch the dog days of summer, and Halloween where we thank our ancestors and all for another year of harvests, & put the earth to bed.  And winter begins after Halloween when the cold, damp darkness hunkers down for the year.

But because we've lost the observation of the quarter days as seasonal changes (rather than religous and festive dates), we have this silly thing where summer begins at midsommer & winter waits all the way until the longest night of the year to say, "ok, now it's srs bizness."

Another thing we discussed was people are allowed to have their opinions.  Their opinions may be wrong, but they're allowed to have them.  :)

And still the Wheel of the Year spins round & round...

Teacups

My leadership coach thoughtfully provided me with a parable the last time we talked 1:1.  It was this:

A business man trying to get to the next level in his business tried everything he knew of and was not making progress.  He asked everyone he knew and no one could help.  Finally he met someone who told him of a faraway master who could solve anyone's problem, be it love, health, business, or anything else.  The man thought to himself, "I will go see this master, perhaps he can help me.  So he travelled across the sea, he travelled through the desert, he travelled through the mountains until finally he came to the master.  The master asked, "What have you come to me for?"  The man explained why he had travelled so far.  The master said, "You are not yet ready.  Come back again when you are ready."

Mystified, the man left.  He travelled back home, back through the mountains, back through the desert, back across the sea.  He went back to work, wondering what he was missing that would make him ready.  He worked very hard for many months.  After these months, he thought surely he was ready now.  So he gathered his travel plans, he travelled across the sea, he travelled across the desert,  he travelled through the mountains, until he again came to the master.  "Master, I am returned, I believe I am ready now."  The master looked into his eyes, paused, and said, "Go away.  You are not yet ready."

Perplexed and a little upset, the man left again.  He travelled back home, back through the mountains, back through the desert, back across the sea.  He went back to work, wondering what was missing that would make him ready.  He worked very hard for many more months.  After these many more months, he thought surely I am ready now.  So again, perhaps with more trepidation this time, he gathered his travel plans, he travelled across the sea, he travelled across the desert, he travelled through the mountains until he came to the master.  He said, "Master, I am returned.  I believe I am ready now."  The master looked into his eyes, paused, and again said, "Go away, you are not yet ready."  

The man said, "Master, with all due respect -- what do I need to do to be ready to even receive an understanding of the steps I must take?  It is expensive and frustrating to come this far only to be told I am not ready!"  The master said, "You are not ready, but let us take some tea together."  The man thought, "Finally!  We are getting somewhere!"   

They sat down to tea.  The master, as the host, bid the man, as his guest, pour himself a cup first.  Then the master poured his own cup, and then reached over to pour more tea into the man's cup.  The man's cup was already full though, and the tea started spilling on the table.  Still the master kept pouring.  The man said, "You are spilling the tea, what are you doing!?"  Still the master poured.  The man jumped up and away from the table to keep the tea from spilling on his clothes, saying, "Why do you continue pouring, the teacup is full and the tea is spilling off the table!?"  The master finished emptying the teapot, sat it back on the table, leaned back and looked at the man.  He looked deep into his eyes and said, "When you come to me, you cannot hear what I have to say because you come with a full mind.  Until you empty your mind, you cannot hear what I have to say anymore than the teacup could accept any more tea.  Anything I said would have been lost on you, like the tea on the table."

She told me this story with a specific intent (of course).  I had been telling her that someone I met with seemed not to ever want to listen to me.  Besides the obvious of sending this individual a prioritized agenda ahead of time so they would be able to prepare on the topics of importance, she said, sometimes people need to empty their minds before you can get to the matter at hand.  Let them empty their teacup.  It might take 45 minutes to an hour the first time you meet, maybe a half hour the next time you meet, and so on.  Some people need to empty their teacups before they are ready to discuss in a collaborative way, so best to let them empty their teacup.

This has been very useful.  When my introvert daughter started talking the other night, I committed myself to letting her empty her teacup.  She and I talked for four hours.  When I wanted to interrupt to share something, I reminded myself, she needs to empty her teacup first... My quiet girl has maybe a teahouse going on, many teacups. My younger extrovert girl empties her teacups all the time rather than building a house out of them.  Often still tea everywhere, but that is how she connects.

In accordance with my pledge several months ago, I have found a therapist.  She asked me if I share things with my friends the day after my leadership coach shared this parable with me.  I said, "I have some friends, that I share... some things... with..."  I often feel though as though my friends come to me to empty their teacups, but that teacup emptying is not reciprocal and that they do not want me to share either my tea or empty my teacup.  Often I opt not to, because like my oldest daughter, I have a virtual teahouse at my disposal stored away and I have much to share that I want to share.  Often I opt not to because... Often I opt not to because I perceive their troubles are weightier than mine and I should not add mine to theirs.  Or sometimes it feels awkward to share something lighthearted after hearing something sorrowful or difficult.  Or simply, I start and it becomes obvious to me that while they wanted to empty their teacup with me, they don't really want me to empty my teacup.  Sometimes I know that people want me to share my tea and empty my teacup with them, and because I so often feel pressure not to share my tea or empty my teacup, I find it very difficult to do so.

For now this sits as an observation.  If you feel I am not emptying my teacup or sharing my tea (I suppose, and you'd like me to), be patient, ask some leading questions.  I may not have answers to your deepest questions, you may not have answers to mine, but come to my teahouse and share in my tea and empty your teacup and I may empty mine.  (If I don't, it's probably because I'm trying to figure out quite how if you seem reciprocal. It's complicated.)

May Madrigals

As often happens with blogs, IRL has kept me busy this month. My life has changed, the repercussions yet to be determined.  I think it's all for the best.  It is hard for me to be both in action and reflective enough to support spending much time writing. Not that reflection hasn't been happening, reflection and processing have absolutely been happening, just that the written recording of those processes have not been happening.  The thought of how much writing that would have been is rather overwhelming!

In the meantime, the aspirants have had their ethics and warding/safety classes.  They went well. Nice group of folks.  I like the discussions.

We're almost at the mid-point of the year.  I've been joking with my boss that it's nearly the end of 2015 since the beginning of the year because time passes so quickly, and yet, here we are and the first half flew by, as it does.  Yeah, yeah -- barely a month until summer solstice, but that's a matter of days in quick succession.  The wheel turns faster and faster.

It's a thing, this wheel of time.  And sometimes all the things it contains are too big to find words for.  Silence does not indicate a lack of activity, but rather the opposite.

Queen Bees & Their Hives

So, I was talking through this with Yeshe Rabbit with whom I presented a class on ethics this past weekend.  As we were going through feedback, she said, "I think one area that you don't need to "improve" but might need permission to "enact" is in projecting confidence as a leader. You did great in being receptive and kind. You also deserve to know that you are allowed to "be in charge.”

This is part of why I'm doing the leadership workshops I'm doing -- to figure that piece of things out because It's A Thing.

Bees came up as an analogy — 

• I posited that Queen Bee is just another role in the hive (a pretty unique one, but a role that someone's got to fill none-the-less), 
• She countered that Queen Bee is a primary essential part of creating the “ground of bee-ing” for the hive (I love the concept of 'ground of bee-ing!), 
• I noted that hives can and do expel queens they don’t like and can raise & install new queens
• PROCESSING:
• Going from worker bee to queen is complicated: cannot approach from the side for validation from others as having done the right thing.  There is a queenly way to gather this feedback appropriately, and that’s something I need to figure out from essentially a hierarchical rather than lateral or serving space.
• Exposure and queen-ness as ‘just another role’ and one that I happen to be filling does not provide the internal source of validation and I am looking externally for validation.
•  Though leadership as service really resonates with me, I’m not sure it’s doing me a service right now, as it were, as I have been applying it as the concept of putting everyone else “first”. A woman hit on it during the workshop Sunday — she's in the military & she noted that they really drill into you ‘mission first, unit next, self at the bottom, supporting all the rest’.  And maybe that’s really effective for men (questionably, granted), but for women who have societal role of nurturer who are expected to put their needs last already and are taught to seek external verification/validation/approval often at the expense of their own authority…  I think I might need to own my big sister bossiness (in moderation, and if I may shift analogies for a moment) for a bit or something.
• The other piece that stuck out going back to the hive metaphor was that idea of the hive rejecting the queen or at least making her life really unpleasant by being unsupportive.  Mama ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy, BUT if the little girls aren’t happy, probably ain’t mama happy either… So there is some degree of need for acceptance in there as well, both of being ‘part of the hive’ but alsoof being the queen.
• And figuring out how to collaboratively create that functional ‘ground (or hive) of bee-ing’ while retaining the organizational role & responsibility accorded to being the queen and owning my decisions with internal validation (and accurate discernment & identification of when external validation is also appropriate).

Having brained it, the next trick I’ll have to figure out is in the appropriate embodiment of what that all means in vivo rather than in vitro (or caput).  As well as in figuring out where the analogy breaks down and iterating until the edges smooth out...

And now I’m going to go watch Eddie Izzard & his piece on bees again because aaaaaaaahhhhh beeeeeeeees!