Waxing Poetic
During the past year, our young writers have penned haikus, diamante poems, limericks, and acrostic poems. Summer’s a great time to wax poetic. Whether we capture a moment in haiku or run the word “fireworks” down a page and choose a descriptor for each letter, poetry is an art form that’s available to us all. Poetry challenges us to attend with all our senses. When we do, we can surprise ourselves with the beauty that flows through us.
Have a poem to share? We’d love to read it!
Resurrection Plant
In the deserts of Texas grows a plant that spreads across moist ground to absorb as much water as possible and then curls into a tight-fisted ball in dry seasons to protect its life-giving moisture. It can remain so for years and, with the first fall of rain, spread out good as new. It’s called a Resurrection Plant. Cool, huh?
This isn’t about that.
For me, the prickly pear cactus is a resurrection plant. Also a resident of the Texas desert, the prickly pear’s paddle-shaped pad sports spines ranging in size from sewing needle to serious hypodermic. They look like death a good deal of the time: like they’re down to skin and skeleton. That’s most of the time. Because in the spring those skeletal paddles with the lethal-looking spines gather up all the creative juice left in them and push out a flower: a flower so bright yellow it’s ridiculous, with pedals so tissue thin it makes you want to cry.
Resurrection ought to surprise. It ought to burst on our vision, take our breath away, and make our world spin backwards. That’s what the prickly pear does when it flowers. That’s why it’s my resurrection plant.
What looks and feels like resurrection to you?
Cross Country
I’m packing light for a cross-country journey from Texas to Indiana and back to Texas again. As I pack, I think about pilgrimage: about the spirituality of journey. I wonder who I will become as the miles roll over me.
Were you to take a soul journey, where would you go? What would you pack (if anything)? For what would you hope?
The Beauty of Scars
I’m told that, when I was younger than my remembering, I fell, knocked over a catsup bottle, and landed on its shards. I carry the crescent-shaped scar on my elbow to this day. I can’t imagine my body without it; it’s become a part of who I am.
Yet I’d always had a notion that emotional or spiritual healing would leave me looking good as new, with baby-fresh skin and a just-bathed, no-more-tears innocence. It hasn’t been like that.
I don’t think it’s in the nature of the universe to work on the “Etch-A-Sketch” principle. We can’t give ourselves a shake and erase scars imprinted on our souls. Creation’s just too real to be undone.
Instead, we can choose to let our scars weave their way into creation’s fabric—often by accompanying another: one with fresher, rawer scars. When we do, we find in our scars a new kind of beauty: the beauty of Jacob’s limp and of Jesus’ wrists and side.
What is your experience of scars? Have you found beauty in them?
VW Justice
Walking home from school my fifth grade year, my friend and I decided to amuse ourselves by sticking out our tongues at passing cars. At each car’s approach, we prepared our mouths to do the unspeakable; at just the right time, we thrust forth our tongues and waggled them tauntingly. I still feel the euphoria tingling up my spine at our audacity. We’d taken on the social taboos and gotten away with it! Until.
A VW bug drove past us: a small and unpretentious prey, not like bagging a Cadillac. Still, we gave it our all, then we doubled over with laughter. The VW made the block and drove past us again. Imagine my shock when the driver rolled down her window, poked out her head, and stuck out her tongue at us!
Quite a different sensation now tingled up my spine: Shock. Hurt. Anger. How could she? How mean of her to… Wait a minute.
Standing there, satchel in hand, I experienced for the first time what it was to stand in another person’s shoes: what real world justice felt like. If I could find that woman today, I’d give her a big hug (if she’d let me get that close).
This month, I’ll seek to stand in another’s shoes: to live justly in the world, remembering that everybody matters.
What are your experiences of standing in another’s shoes? Of someone caring enough to stand in yours? What are your experiences of justice, or of injustice? Share your thoughts
Ramah Faith
“A voice was heard in Ramah,
wailing and loud lamentation,
Rachel weeping for her children;
she refused to be consoled,
because they are no more.”
(Matthew 2:18 NRSV)
The above passage, drawn from the book of Jeremiah by the writer of Matthew’s Gospel, takes us to the bone. Transported to Ramah, we feel Rachel’s loss and suffering. We stand with her in the timelessness of her grief.
Perhaps you, too, know inconsolable loss
of loved ones,
of health,
of relationships,
of childhood,
of dreams,
of innocence,
of job,
of....
Standing in the truth of loss and choosing faith is a hard thing. A Ramah Faith is one baptized in tears—and in fire. It is a gritty, hard-edged faith that has moved beyond politeness and into fierce-eyed determination. It is a faith that asks questions that may never, in this lifetime, meet their answers. It’s a faith that gets us out of bed in the morning when we want only to curl our knees into our chest, close our eyes, and sink into unknowing. It’s feeling that…and getting up anyway.
A Ramah faith lives with its scars.
Do you stand alongside Rachel? Have you have survived or are you dwelling this moment in Ramah? Then please consider joining our online community. Beginning next week, visit our site at www.RamahFaith.com, where you can express the truth of your loss in a variety of creative forms. Also, you can suggest ways we can serve as your supportive community in your Ramah season. Have questions?
Waiting With
A Spacious Place is founded on what we call our six “Playground Principles.” Read an overview of our sixth principle, “Waiting With,” below.
Waiting With is a Spiritual Direction principle that chooses not to view “Persons as Problems,” because “Persons as Problems” reduces the participant solely to his/her pain. Each person’s suffering is deeply personal and deeply spiritual. We tread on holy ground when asked to accompany another person’s pain. At A Spacious Place, we also avoid “The Lazarus Syndrome”; once we get a few spiritual practices and spiritual concepts under our belts, it’s tempting to think we can advise others. We consider it best to attend to the person and to God’s Spirit before offering any suggestions—and even then, we offer the practices as options from which the person may choose.
Instead, we favor the “Breathe with Me: Spiritual Practice” approach. We view ourselves as spiritual-practice resources to our participants, providing support and hope. We offer suggestions of practices AFTER attending to the participant’s soul and to the leading of the Spirit. We offer suggestions with humility. We also view ourselves in the role of “Midwife Waiting,” serving as midwives, accompanying and attending to what is being created in a participant. We recognize that childbirth is painful; we also know labor ends in a new beginning: in new life and in new possibilities. Rather than seek to prematurely end the child-birthing process, we attend to the birth giver, reminding him/her to breathe. We also attend to what is being birthed in and through the birth giver.
Our Waiting With symbol is the musical triangle, depicting the three-way conversation between participant, Spirit, and guide. When the guide first attends to and then responds to the participant and the Spirit, the resultant chord sounds a beautiful, triune resonance.
How do you “Wait With?” Share your thoughts. Want a more in-depth look into these principles? Sign up for our online course by emailing kaye@aspaciousplace.com.
Nurturing Relationships
A Spacious Place is founded on what we call our six “Playground Principles.” Read an overview of our fifth principle, “Nurturing Relationships,” below.
The “Nurturing Relationships” principle favors “Empathetic Listening.” Active, nonjudgmental, compassionate listening carries incredible power for healing. We seek to avoid the “My Assumption is Your Reality” approach, which assumes a person can determine from another’s body language or words the others’ feelings. While such observations may guide our perceptions, each person has a right to his/her own sense of personal truth.
A Spacious Place also avoids the “You Heel!” approach, which employs defensive language to manipulate another person’s behavior. Both the “My Assumption in Your Reality” and the “You Heel!” approaches employ violent communication.
Instead, A Spacious Place favors the use of “Non-Violent Communication,” often through the use of open-ended questions. Deborah van Deusen Hunsinger lists four steps in Non-Violent Communication: Step 1—Differentiate Observation from Evaluation; Step 2—Identify and Express Feelings; Step 3—Connect Feelings with Needs; and Step 4—Make a Request, understanding the difference between a request and a demand. “Non-Violent Communication” enables us to take care of ourselves while respecting the other. Non-violent communication helps clarify both individual’s needs and also deepens trust and relationship.
Our symbol for Nurturing Relationships is a pair of shoes, because we foster relationships with other persons by seeking to stand in their shoes: respecting their experience and their sense of truth. Standing in another’s shoes also involves valuing the other equally with ourselves.
How do you “Nurture Relationships?” Share your thoughts.
Creating Safe Space
A Spacious Place is founded on what we call our six “Playground Principles.” Read an overview of our fourth principle, “Creating Safe Space,” below.
When Creating Safe Space, A Spacious Place avoids flying “By the Seat of Our Pants”: in other words, beginning a session with both ourselves and our environment unprepared. Lack of preparation makes it difficult to focus on the participants’ needs. We also avoid the “Grilling and Drilling Station” approach. We do not press our participants to finish their creative work in a set time. Neither do we grill people about what they believe or drill our beliefs into them.
Instead, we get our “Exploration Station Readied.” We prepare the space and ourselves well ahead of time. Our preparedness creates a hospitable environment in which participants feel valued and welcomed. We also favor the “On Your Signal” approach. The participant decides when he/she will share and what he/she will share. We trust that each open spirit will meet with God’s Spirit if we provide a space in which that connection may happen.
The symbol for “Creating Safe Space” is a rubber ducky. We get our ducks in a row by preparing ourselves spiritually ahead of time and by preparing a welcoming environment readied for the first arriver. We also line up our duckies by letting the participants’ creative and spiritual needs guide our approach—they lead, we follow.
Share your thoughts on Creating Safe Space.
Creating Safe Space
A Spacious Place is founded on what we call our six “Playground Principles.” Read an overview of our fourth principle, “Creating Safe Space,” below.
When Creating Safe Space, A Spacious Place avoids flying “By the Seat of Our Pants”: in other words, beginning a session with both ourselves and our environment unprepared. Lack of preparation makes it difficult to focus on the participants’ needs. We also avoid the “Grilling and Drilling Station” approach. We do not press our participants to finish their creative work in a set time. Neither do we grill people about what they believe or drill our beliefs into them.
Instead, we get our “Exploration Station Readied.” We prepare the space and ourselves well ahead of time. Our preparedness creates a hospitable environment in which participants feel valued and welcomed. We also favor the “On Your Signal” approach. The participant decides when he/she will share and what he/she will share. We trust that each open spirit will meet with God’s Spirit if we provide a space in which that connection may happen.
The symbol for “Creating Safe Space” is a rubber ducky. We get our ducks in a row by preparing ourselves spiritually ahead of time and by preparing a welcoming environment readied for the first arriver. We also line up our duckies by letting the participants’ creative and spiritual needs guide our approach—they lead, we follow.
Share your thoughts on Creating Safe Space.