RECIPE FOR MAGIC?

Maybe this isn't how it happens, maybe it's fairies or angels or God

But somehow there's magic or miracles

Things happen that we never expected 

After years of trying so hard and failing

after searching the globe and then deep in our heart

After losing so many people and gaining so much weight

somehow, one day there is magic

out of nowhere they say

what you've been longing to hear

or the light bulb goes on over your head 

and you know how to solve it

or you suddenly know

this is the one....it just seems like magic. 

Where does it come from?

Here is my idea...

Recipe for Magic

a cup of luck

a chance meeting

two or more opportunities failed

dozens of humbling experiences

two or three great and supportive friends

deep grief that's grown into compassion and gratitude

patience to taste

a longing desire 

mix it all together 

and then let the whole dream go

and walk on into the magic

How do you think it happens?

~Jules

12/04/13

And then she began to sing....

This one is dedicated to my friends:

Sally, Rena, Amber & Patsy whose songs make me glad to be alive in the world. 

Inspired my friends, I painted this picture this afternoon to go with Hafiz's words.

Love, jules

Saving the World

"I am fairly certain that given a cape and a nice tiara, I could save the world."~anonymous

One of my closest friends, gave me this saying in a frame that now hangs on my bedroom wall right above my bed. And in the corner is a bag with my collection of "magic" wands, also given to me by friends. Haha! Apparently, I've demonstrated such grandiose desires out loud on more than a few occasions, at least to my friends. But all kidding aside, don't you just want to save the world some days? or at least your friend who has just been diagnosed with an incurable disease? or the young woman who keeps going back to the abusive boyfriend? or the single mom trying to work and raise three kids?Haven't you reached for your magic wand in the back of your mind and hoped to make all the pain go away? I have. 

My darkest and saddest life moment was when my third son died of brain cancer at age eleven. That was thirteen years ago. Some very significant people helped me rise up out of that pain and misery. As I opened my heart once again, I found I had this deep desire to not let anyone else experience such darkness. I wanted to help. So I started saying YES to ideas and places where I might lend my passion, my heart and my skill. I realize now that some of those yeses were just me trying to fill the aching void but over time my motivation has been more one of passion. I have been so lucky and so blessed by friendship and family and want to be a blessing to others. so I've said YES a lot, sometimes to the point of double-booking. Uh-oh!

Then the other day I was reading Mark Nepo's The Book of Awakening. On November 1st he shares this quote by Thomas Merton: “To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects, to want to help everyone in everything, is to succumb to violence. The frenzy of the activist neutralizes his or her work for peace.” Whoa!

Nepo goes on to say "Merton wisely challenges us not just to slow down, but at the heart of it, to accept our limitations. We are at best filled with the divine, but we have only two hands and one heart. In a deep and subtle way, the want to do it all is a want to be it all and though it comes from a desire to do good, it often becomes frenzied because our egos seize our goodness as a way to be revered. " And I'm right alongside Nepo when he says "I have done this many times: not wanting to say no, not wanting to miss an opportunity, not wanting to be seen as less than totally compassionate. But wherever I cannot bring my entire being, I am not there. It is like offering to bring two cups of coffee through a crowd. I will always spill something hot on some innocent along the way."

Nepo and Merton are right. And my friends were wise in giving me the framed sign for my wall and a couple of little girl magic wands to remind me to not take myself too seriously. Yesterday I was talking with a woman who expressed a desire for a magic wand and had to laugh. I know that feeling so well. 

So what do we do with that feeling? First I think we learn to say no so that when we say yes, we can really say yes. And then I think we do what that woman did yesterday. She handed her imaginary wand over to the Holy One and then just showed up and listened. It was all that was needed. She surrendered her limitations and was then better able to give herself fully.

And I think we need to laugh at our silly efforts to save the world. 

Excuse me, I"m gonna go look for my cape now. (picture mischievous grin here).

Blessings on your efforts! ~ Jules

A blessing for All Saints Day

November 1, 2013--all Saints' Day

The definition of "saint" according to dictionary.com is "a person of great virtue, holiness, and benevolence." Well then I had to look up virtue, holiness and benevolence.Then words like "moral excellence, goodness, righteousness" and "sacred, pious, devote" and "charitable, kind." Wow! How does any one human or otherwise, manage all that?!? Do you suddenly feel as if an impenetrable brick wall is before you? If so, you are in good company. Even many of the so called saints have had those same feelings. The truth is we are all saints and sinners...and even more than that, we are stew...made up of all the parts, onions, meat, root vegetables, greens, spices and water. In fact it is when we throw all the parts together that a delicious stew is created. Perhaps that could be the definition of saint...a person who has become delicious stew.

Anyway, however you feel about your holiness, here is a blessing for you this day:

Oh sweet and messy one
May the fog lift so you can see

May the guilt fall through the cracks

May your disappointment melt into the ground

As your wings stretch out and unfurl

And your heart opens to the morning sun

A fresh new day, each day a fresh new you being born

Perhaps life is nothing more than that

A series of short (24 hour) lives in which

Stretching your arms out wide

and singing yourself a tune

You experience the joy of testing flight

The delight of tasting the delicious messiness of the stew

All the onions and veggies, meat and water mixed together

My dear and wonderful human being

All of you is love and loved

You are delicious stew

All of you

blessings on you,

jules

Changing Time

A heart-centered moment changes time. 

I woke up fairly early this morning, around 7 a.m. My first appointment for the day is officially at 11 a.m. As I crawled out of bed doing the math, I figured I'd have time for a leisurely breakfast, a cup tea and some ruminating on life and still have time to get some meeting notes typed up, some papers read and responded to, dishes washed, write a blog, update my calendar and perhaps even brush my teeth and hair. Well, I sat down to write some notes up from a meeting the other night and got caught up in the excitement again of that night. We were brainstorming and dreaming. It was wonderful. The energy seems to come effortless and the clock ticks on by easily when the heart/soul is vibrating in joy. The old adage rings true: Time flies when you're having fun. And that begs the question: Then why aren't we focusing more our life on what brings our hearts joy? Or are we doing that already and just hiding it well behind gloom and doom newscasts?

Contrast this morning with yesterday morning. Yesterday I got up even earlier and checked in at my desk an hour before the office officially opens. I was poised to be efficient and get so much done. And then my computer wouldn't connect with the printer. Problem-solving took over as the morning crawled along. I looked at the clock repeatedly hoping it was now time for lunch so I could excuse myself from the slog of trying to get anything done. It moved slow and I got more and more inefficient as the stress took its toll. so hiding underneath that other adage is this one: Time crawls when you're suffering. Sigh! And yet, this too is part of life. Even in the midst of the gray day, it is a positive thing to hit the wall and move through it to the other side. I did, 9 hours later, eventually get enough done so I could leave the office in peace. But my heart had checked out long before that.

Then there was the other day when I went to visit a friend recovering from surgery. We hadn't seen each other in a while. Three hours passed effortlessly. I didn't even notice lunch time breezing by. I could easily have spent more time but she was tired and so we moved on but I noted how life seems so smooth, so in sync, so effortless when our hearts are all in.

As I get move through life, time seems less and less and less tied to the ticking of a clock and more and more connected to the beating of my heart. Time cannot control us or make us do anything. It simply is a mirror reflecting the longing of our deepest parts. If we let our hearts be all in, we could even possibly travel through time. Hmmm.

uh-oh, I better get going. It's almost time for that appointment.

have a good time,

jules

10/18/13

THIS NEW DAY

Monday, October 14, 2013

I LOVE mornings! This is something that I inherited from my parents. I know this because the few times I've had reunions with my siblings, all of us have been awake and drinking tea by 7:30 am. and this is in spite of the fact that they are much older than me so we weren't growing up in the same decade. Of course, with mom and dad it was coffee but the same idea. My dad would often start his day with reading his Bible. Little did I know then, that he too had a contemplative nature. He was a pastor and often preached about the dailiness of the spiritual life. He would say that each day we were born anew to begin again with a fresh and clean slate. So no matter what had passed the day before, it was forgiven and gone. And I felt that. Generally speaking, Mom and Dad did not hold grudges. They held worries but not grudges. We were forgiven and life moved on. I think that's part of why I love mornings so much. Each day is a new beginning. 

Certainly, this does not make me lovable to all those who crawled out of bed grudgingly this morning. I know that some of you have so much pain in your body, the idea of moving in the morning is a daunting thing. I know that some of you will start this day starving for sleep that you were unable to embrace for any number of reasons. I know that some of you are carrying such grief or trauma, another day of carrying on also seems more of a challenge than any move can muster. Even I have sore, plantarfaciitus/arthritic feet that scream when I first step on them in the morning. I too have concerns and a to-do list that are bigger than this day. Each person carries a load with them. Life can be hard and another day of it can seem impossible.

Still, I invite you to consider that this new day has new possibilities. I invite you to consider that yesterday's mistakes and guffaws really are forgiven, that no grudge is being held against you. You are free to begin again in whatever small or large way you can. And you are loved and adored even if today all you do is just sit and listen to music or watch the leaves fall. 

I invite you to consider that this day is your precious gift and you are one of this day's precious gifts. Not only are you enough for this day, you are also a gift to this day. For sure you are one of the gifts of my day.

so just breathe. 

I am grateful you are here. Thank you.

And, thanks for reading.

love, jules

The Rose

The Rose

Layers of deep red wrapped around a core of joy

And thorns warning to take care in picking

An aroma so sweet, so tender, so delicious

We dare come close to nuzzle it

We dare even to pick it and bring it home
In spite of the threat to be pricked

We endeavor even to grow it in our garden

It invokes, gives some voice to,
     the love in our hearts

It gives vision to some deep expression of pleasure

And if some should pick it
     and drop it in a mud puddle

On the way walking home

We would mourn that this gorgeous creature is now covered in mud

But would we love it any less? Would we regret the encounter?

No, we would treasure it even more

Holding forever the rose in our heart’s memory

Until we can return and find our nose and eyes savoring one another

Your precious smiles

Your aroma of joy

Your twinkling eyes

Wrapped in velvet

Facing the sun.

jules, 9/10/13

Be Careful

be careful not to judge too quickly

a book by its cover

the outcome of a day by its weather

the size of the heart by the clothes on their back

the possibility for gifts from the darkness

in this world, anything is possible

be care-full

jules 9/26/13

Movement

it's on my mind, it's on my heart
but that doesn't necessarily mean it happens

still, the dream ignites,

passion provides fuel

and eventually something begins to form

change is always happening

but some change is slow motion

like watching an oak tree grow

some change is explosion

like a volcano creates a mountain in a day

some burns like a forest fire

while another is pressure until it gives

creating tremors for miles around

still other change is a gentle breeze

that softly blows the dandelion seeds off

and carries them along

until they find soil

even if it might not happen

it probably will

in one way or another

because change is the constant we know to be truth

if i just let it flow in the way that it needs to

dreams, love, passion,

movement

life

~jules, 9/12/13

Time Keeps on Slippin'

Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin' 
Into the future 
Time keeps on slippin', slippin', slippin' 
Into the future 

I want to fly like an eagle 
To the sea 
Fly like an eagle 
Let my spirit carry me 
I want to fly like an eagle 
Till I'm free 
Oh, Lord, through the revolution 

Feed the babies 
Who don't have enough to eat 
Shoe the children 
With no shoes on their feet 
House the people 
Livin' in the street 
Oh, oh, there's a solution ~ Steve Miller, "Fly Like an Eagle"

It all sounds so simple but then there's that time slippin' thing. I get out of bed by seven every morning. And before i know it, it's nine! Lucky for me, I usually don't have to be to work until ten. But whoa! Slow down there time! I need you to move slow with me. 

"Where you put your time, you put your life. Where you put your life, you put your love." ~ Clayton Barbeau, Family Therapist.

I watched a video series on parenting with Clayton as the speaker when I was in my late twenties. I was a  stay-at-home mom then with at least two, if not three of my four boys already in tow. I don't remember the rest of what he said but this one phrase has stuck with me for my whole life. It's caused me over the years to re-evaluate several times. Where am I putting my time?

Once, in my early thirties, I took a whole day to assess my television watching. Shortly after that I started changing my habits. It took a few years but I did eventually figure out how to let go of this time-sucking practice. My eventual solution came in an unexpected way. Our youngest son was a budding piano player. We had an old piano inherited from my parents in the living room. The TV was nearby in what had been the dining room before we added on. We thought this would be a great TV room. But it clashed with the piano and it was so easy to just walk in and sit down and start watching. Then one day as I drove down the street, a neighbor's couch with a "FREE" sign gave me a novel idea. So we picked up the old frumpy couch and put it in the corner of our frumpy, damp basement. We hauled the TV down there and told everyone that if they wanted to watch, that was where they could go. Upstairs, on the main floor, we moved the piano to where the TV room had been and made a music room. How we spent our time changed dramatically. My son played more and more. We watched TV less and less and eventually threw both the couch and the TV away. We don't miss it. 

Today, as time slips by, I am asking myself again, now in my fifties. Where do I put my time? Where am I putting my life? Where is my love directed? These aren't easy questions and I"m not sure I want to know all the answers but I feel drawn to ask. 

And then there's "feed the babies" and "shoe the children" and "house the people" and love the lonely and give voice to the silent and celebrate the joy! 

And I want to fly like an eagle!

~jules

Wanting Sunlight

Wanting Sunlight

to break through those cracks

the notes of the song to come whispering through

Longing for you to feel the rays of the moon

Wrap their loving arms around your tender darkness

Wishing for you to understand, to really know

How much you are loved

What joy there is in your presence

~ love, jules

People

Eyes that sparkle and shine
Or ache to be seen
Ears that giggle at the sounds they hear
Or cringe from the too sharp noise
Noses that wrinkle up at the stench
or twitch with glee
Tongues that savor the flavor of chocolate
Or stick their tips out in distaste
Hands that work hard, wringing each other in desparation
or reach out and with just a gentle touch
Lift all the burdens of the world off another's shoulders
Thoughts that can encompass the universe
Invent the magical, overcome the impossible
Words and notes that sing of the angels, of God and Love
Words that challenge and sometimes damage
People
I LOVE people

newborns and toddlers
grandpas and grandmas
wobbly old man with the cane
the cranky old woman with dementia
the bossy middle-aged lady empowered with her wisdom
curious grade-school kids
questioning teenagers
young adults with ideals and hearts and energy to change the world
lonely people forgotten and scared
presidents and queens
actresses and secretaries
singers and pastors
nurses, bus drivers, street sweepers
nannies, artists,  programmers
family, friends, loved ones
co-workers and partners
teachers, mentors, therapists
advisors, listeners, coaches
people
I LOVE people

Today I cry with the deep love for people
with the sensitive compassion for the suffering
with gratitude for the abundance of people
People

~sending my love, Jules
August 13, 2013

Like Nails and Wood

"Reclamation" by Melanie Van Houten

I saw this picture of this sculpture and these are the thoughts that came to me....


LIKE NAILS AND WOOD

Words strung together
Like pieces of string
Knotted, tangled, confusing and connecting
Some are within the walls of the rules we've built
Like nails and wood
They keep us safe
But we could be trapped in this old house
Of constricting, shaming and divisive language.
What if we strung together words in a new way?
Creating doors and windows
Lifting our old infrastructure
Right over our heads
Freeing ourselves in the process

What if it is just a house and we can rebuild it?
What if they are just words and we can imagine life differently?
What if what we say really does have power to free?

8/9/13
~jules

I am a Rock....

Tumbling Rocks at Devil's Lake, Wisconsin
photo taken by jules

I am
a chip off the mountain
a rock tumbling slowly
over the centuries
down, down, down
bumping into other tumblers
pieces of me breaking off
as I continue to fall
in slow motion
unique in my shape and size
but indistinguishable from the rest.

It is easy to see that all of us
come from the mother mountain
and will some day end up in the sea, finally at rest,
and then to become sand as we roll in the waves,
so that a soft foot may some day land safely on us.

Grain of sand, boulder, rock, mountain.
Inside, we're all the same.

~just a thought by jules...8/5/13

About Noise and Silence and finding the Holy in It...Entry #4

July 30, 2013

Silence is not always Golden.

Scene 1
The bell rings. Immediately eighty children, ages six to eighteen scramble to the dining hall to find their chairs; a few elbow jabs and friendly shoves along the way. For a moment, chaos arrives in all its glory. Then another bell rings. Silence. A community prayer is said for the meal and then eighty chairs all scrape at once as each child settles into the meal; chaos once again rising as all eighty voices speak at once. If you want the bread, you have to yell, "please pass the bread." You might have to yell it several times; it is so loud.

Would silence have been better? No. This was a precious time in my life at boarding school. It was chaotic and noisy and it was connection, togetherness. I remember it fondly, with smiles on my face, as family time.

Scene 2
1987. Minneapolis, Minnesota. The Twins have just one the World Series for the first time. I know because I've seen it on television and because I can hear the screaming and hollering from my back yard, four miles away! They called the Metrodome, Thunder Dome after that season. I was able to go to one of the division series games. It may be that I lost some of my hearing that day or some of my voice. I've probably not yelled so loud before or since. I don't even play baseball or softball myself. I'm not even that big of a fan but it was so delicious, such wonderful communion to join my voice with everyone else's. Imagine, 70,000 people all cheering for the same thing, all happy for the same thing! Would silence have been better? No. I imagine this is what it must feel like to join in the angel chorus. What a glorious noise!

Scene 3
The little boy is crying. It is hard to make out what he is saying but it has something to do with "wanting one." He is very upset. His hurried, stressed and tired mother is also very upset. Her face turns red as she grabs his left arm and lifts him up to drag him along down the sky way corridor. The three of us (my husband, my mother-in-law and me) watch in horror as we continue strolling in the opposite direction. Just after we pass them, we begin to talk about them with judgment. Suddenly, my mother-in-law turns around and walks back. With determined steps she catches up to the mother and child. Right there in the middle of the sky way, she takes that mother to task with a wake-up call. "What do you think you're doing?" She let her know in no uncertain terms that this is NOT the proper way to handle a crying child. I can't believe her daring! My Norwegian Lutheran Missionary upbringing taught me that getting involved could cause more trouble, that we should always keep silent. But would silence have been better? No. Sometimes justice requires a voice.

Scene 4
I haven't heard from her in weeks. We used to talk a lot and now suddenly nothing. A few phone calls and email attempts have not been answered so I give up. Immediately I begin some very egocentric wondering. "I wonder if it was something I did or said? What did I do wrong this time?" These miserable and chaotic rumblings lead me to stop calling and writing. I give up and leave the dead silence until one day I find out my friend has just recently found out she has cancer. She's been busy going for appointments and getting ready for the treatment. With the hearing of one word,"cancer," her world has become a lonely and silent place. Silence isn't always what we think it is.

There is a time for "Be still and know that I am God"
AND there is a time for "Make a Joyful noise"
AND there is a time for "Do Justice, Love kindness"
AND there is a time for "speak boldly"

Not ALL noise is bad and not ALL silence is good. Silence isn't always what we think it is.

there is a time to listen, to be still and silent
And there is a time to speak, scream, sing, challenge, wonder, ask...

About Noise and Silence and Finding the Holy in it...Entry #3

July 24, 2013

6 a.m.

I often wake at this early hour, long before the alarm. I love mornings; especially early mornings when the day is yet fresh and undisturbed. I am lucky and honored to sleep in a room on the second floor with windows looking out on the trees. In some windows, if I could reach through, I could touch a tree; it is that close. Lately, when i wake up at this early hour, I've been noticing how still the trees are in the quiet and silent dawn. Sometimes I even hold my breath challenging them to move before I do. This silence shared with the trees delights me to the core of my being. Perhaps this is what has drawn me to wake at this early hour all these years; the shared silence.

In the early dawn I can for a moment melt into unity with all creation as we sit still together listening and just being. It is a spine tingling joy but I dare not shout it out until the first leaf moves. It is awe-inspiring sacredness. I can't help but entertain thoughts of love and grace and God. I feel so connected, so awake, so aware.

Stillness
silence
quiet
creates a sacredness,
a space for breath,
a moment for awareness
a place for smiling
gratitude
life

Good morning world!

happy to be here,

jules

About Noise & Silence and Finding the Holy in it, Entry #2

On a  clear August day back in 2001, i was sitting in my kayak in the middle of one of this city's many lakes...listening. I stopped paddling and just listened. It was about eight o'clock in the morning. I just sat there and listened to what I thought would be silence. Later I reflected on that moment. Here is what I wrote:

Noise vs. Silence

The noise of the world is deafening

  Me and the kayak sitting here

On the perfectly still, peaceful lake,

   While speedboats, fishing boats roar,

Lawn mowers are grinding,

   Teenagers’ music is blaring, loudly,

The bass taking over the sound of our heartbeats,

   Cars just beyond the beach are racing past,

Televisions, phones, radios,

   It is hard to escape the noise of the world,

My ears ringing constantly,

   So loud, I can’t think,

Can’t stop, can’t listen,

   Listen to the heartbeat,

Listen to the breathing,

   Hear the wind,

And know what the Spirit is Saying.

Silence vs. Truth

The silence of the World is heart-wrenching,

   Everyone speaks but,

No one says anything,

   Exaggerations, sarcasm, anger, teasing,

Idioms, Slang, small talk, big talk,

   Beating around the bush,

Skirting the issues,

   But secrets are kept,

Lies are told,

   And silence is golden,

A silence so pervasive that,

   Our heart is closed now,

Unable to hear the heartbeat,

   Listen to the breathing,

Feel the pulse of the world,

   And know what the soul is saying.

Silence & Truth

Are we listening?

   Can we hear?

Are we speaking?

   What does the Spirit say?

What do you notice about noise and silence?

jules

About Noise & Silence....and finding the Holy in it. Entry #1

A parable by Theophane the Monk in his book Tales of a Magic Monastery:

"Would you teach me silence?" I asked.
"Ah!"
He seemed to be pleased. "Is it the Great Silence you want?"
"yes, the Great Silence."
"Well, where do you think it is to be found?" he asked.
"Deep within me, I suppose. If only I could go deep within, I'm sure I'd escape the noise at last. But it's hard. Will you help me?" I knew he would. I could feel his concern and his spirit was so silent.
"Well i've been there," he said. "I spent years going in. I did taste the silence there. But one day Jesus came--maybe it was my imagination--and said to me simply, 'Come, Follow me.' I went out, and I've never gone back."
I was stunned, "but the silence...."
"I've found the Great Silence, and I've come to see that the noise was inside."

I hope you enjoy this parable form Theophane. I read it and immediately decided to do a series here on noise and silence. Perhaps i should ended it with this. I think I'll just see where each entry takes me. Tune in for more about noise and silence.

blessings on your noise,

jules

I am a tulip

Today I just want to share this poem with you.
It causes me to say, "I am a tulip."

Read & Enjoy, Love jules

How did they know
it was time to push up through the long-wintered soil?
How did they know
it was the moment to resurrect,
while thick layers of stubborn ice
still pressed the bleak ground flat?
But the tulips knew.
They came, rising strongly,
a day after the ice died.
There's a hope-filled place in me
that also knows when to rise,
that waits for the last layer of ice
to melt into obscurity.
It is urged by the strong sun
warming my wintered heart.
It is nudged by the Secret One,
calling, calling, calling:
"Arise, my love, and come."
My heart stirs like dormant tulips
and hope comes dancing forth.
Not unlike the Holy One
kissing the morning sun,
waving a final farewell
to a tomb emptied of its treasure.

© Joyce Rupp

The gift of a body

It's been seven plus weeks since my hysterectomy. (52 days). I have come a long way and have even farther to go. When I see people now, most still ask "how are you?" but none expect me to say, "not so great." There is an expectation that I "should" be over it already. I know that many who have gone before me in this experience understand this. I appreciate those women who have shared their experience with me.

Yesterday was a particularly tough day. I was tired and in pain most of the day after a week of activity that I used to consider very normal. Two months ago, I would not have considered such a week to be that tiring now. Now, it feels like I put in three weeks of work in one week's time. As a result, I found myself back in bed over and over again yesterday, unable to muster energy even for writing or reading. I watched a couple of a movies. I took a nap

I'm learning to listen to my body's clues and cues in a much more intimate way than I have done in decades. I don't want to be crude but when it comes down to the basics of good digestion and elimination, every body cue is important. If digestion and elimination don't work well, mamma is not a happy camper. This pain, that twitch, this breath, that ache, that craving...every little cue matters right now.

Though I long for a strong healthy body that doesn't tire so easily, I am grateful that my body has the intelligence to tell me I need to pay attention to the basics.  What a brilliant body it is! No matter how much I ignore it, it continues to tell me when I am hungry, when I am lonely, when I am trouble, when I have accomplished something amazing and when it is time to go to bed. I want to honor this wisdom more and hope that with time, such honor will be rewarded with a happier body.

Here is some more body wisdom: Eat right, sleep well, work passionately, play hard, then just let yourself be. Only lend your energy to that which brings joy and peace to you and the world.

Thank you body...for holding me all these years!

May you find healing and wisdom in your body too.

love, jules

Looking up

It's been 4 weeks since my hysterectomy...

I"m sure my body is healing because my pain has lessened as time goes by. But I continue to be really tired. Today, I took a 3 hour nap (and i'm not a natural napper) and still I'm tired! But this is not the only evidence of my low energy. There are 2 opportunities to sing to night...both of them are strong desires for me. One is to sing with 1000 other people in a large community sing in Powderhorn Park. How cool it is that people in this community are bringing back singing as  a way to connect with our community. I wish I could be there. The other opportunity is that my church choir is singing Godspell along with the children of the congregation tonight. Something magical happens when the children and the adult voices join forces in song! I wish I could be there too. Instead, I am so tired I find myself unable to find enough energy to go for either. And this makes me really sad.

I don't think I've ever felt so weak, so lacking in energy, so really tired. I've also never been so overweight. There are other symptoms--a messy house, frustration with my job, loneliness, etc. I'm tired of being tired. I know that it is reasonable to be tired after this type of surgery but I was stressed and tried before that. I want to get well! I want to be healthy and strong! I want to live into my passions and do what I'm called to do. I want to be the real Jules!

I know it's a big order but at this moment I"m asking, I'm opening to all the can bring me health and strength and energy and I'm letting go as much as I know how of all that will continue to tire me and make me sick.
I guess I just figure at this point, there is no where to look but up. There is no way to look but up.

Walk into the dream!

Don't resist it. If the sun calls to you today, step out into it and let it warm you. If the song rises in your heart, sing it, even just to yourself in the car. If the urge to call someone tickles your tummy, call them. Tell them how important they are to you. Don't resist. You've waited long enough to do what you have longed to do. You don't have to take on the whole project at once.Baby steps are fine. Short visits are okay. Just step into it for a moment and let yourself walk in the dream.

A long winter, a slow spring

Thursday, April 25, 2013

A few minutes ago I stepped out my back door and went for a short walk to visit my barren garden. Even though it was only about thirty yards, it's the longest walk i've taken in a week. I was tempted by the warming air today, my lungs craving a breath of fresh air, my legs craving some movement, my heart looking for spring.

It's been a looooong winter. Everyone agrees. Even the optimists are whining a little. Just two days ago we had another snow storm. The buds on the trees are aching for enough warmth to burst. The birds outside my window are frantically hoping for flowers and worms enough to sustain the nesting season. The sun tries desperately to move the clouds of doubt and malaise out of the way.

It's now one week since my hysterectomy. I've never felt more weak or vulnerable than at this moment. I'm not sick but I'm not well. I have no control over how fast I heal, how fast the pain goes away. The pain tells me to just sit and wait--ARGH!! But even before the surgery I wasn't doing great. Over the past few years, due to stress and hormones and bad habit, I've gotten soft, gained weight and generally run out of physical energy. My heart energy is strong but my earth energy is weak and my fire has dwindled. For the past couple of years I've dealt with kidney stones, a hyper parathyroid, plantar faciitus and now a sad old uterus that needed to go. At one week post op, I worry about getting a bladder infection or a cold or something else that will set me back. I'm trying to do everything I can to prevent that but I'm scared. I don't want to be this weak forever. I feel like blob of flesh waiting for some bones to give me to form.

In the meantime, I took on a new position at work, finance manager. It is a joyless, dead-end job where day by day I feel like someone is steeling my creativity and joy and perhaps even my love. Oh, I know i'm stating it dramatically. But it's true. This is how it has felt the last few months. For several days every week I strive to clean up the ledger. Sure I get little bursts of sunshine when i'm out singing with my hospice choir or teaching a prayer workshop. But those are just teasers that remind me winter is still here.

I'm tired of the long winter. I'm ready for the spring, for new life, for seeds to planted and watered and watched over. I'm ready to step back into my heart and live into its bigness. I"m tired of being weak and plodding through my life just barely making it through. I'm ready for color on walls, flowers in my garden and long summer evenings spent with friends. I'm ready for exploring the lakes in my kayak, climbing mountains and laughing together over spilled Koolaid. But how will I get there? How will I find my way from this winter bed of weakness to the fiery energy of a sunset on a long summer evening?

I think I just got my answer on that short walk to the garden. I just need to step out the door and take advantage of every moment of joy there is. I just need to take the first step. I just need to follow my urge, my longing to step out into the sun and let the experience warm me.

Dreaming--Part 2

my second definition of DREAM is: a mish-mash of thoughts put together in some cosmic sitcom while we sleep.

I don't know how it happened but that Sunday I found myself worshipping in an old school gym; a scratched wooden floor under the folding chairs.In concentric circles we alternately stood in praise and song or sat silently listening. I didn't realized until half-way through the service that I was the only white person in attendance. Even then, the realizatioin seemeed only momentarily significant. My heart tingled as the Spirit moved in these people. They were literally shining with joy by the end.

Right after the last "Amen!", a big-bosomed woman came over and introduced herself. "I"m Loretta, she said, Can I show you around?"

"I'm Jules and Yes!" was my quick response.

Lorretta led me to the coffee corner where we grabbed a donut and then headed down the hall toward the Sunday School area. Along the way she introduced me to everyone. My joy grew with each meeting. The people here embraced me so fully. I felt seen, transparent even and yet there was no judgment in the air. We met the children too and then circled back to the coffee corner where a group of people waited for us to sit with them.

No sooner had I sat and Carver, a man in his 60's, asked "so will you do it? will you come Miss Jules?" "yes" chimed in Mary on the other side of the circle, :"Please say YES!"

In that moment, I suddenly understood why i was there and what they wanted from me. And how could I say no? It all felt so right. I could scarecely hold my diginity as I burst, "Of course! YES! Yes, I"ll be your pastor!"

And then I woke up back in my warm bed, with this smile on my face and joy in my heart. What a sweet dream of affirmation!

later, I reflected on this dream, I didn't suddenly feel the need to enroll  in the nearest seminary. I just felt it was a great reminder that my call here on earth is to bring love, care, and to be present to others. Everything else I get busy with is just fluff or context for me to do that. 

"Love the whole world as a mother loves her only child" ~ Buddha

Dreaming--Part 1

my first definition of DREAM is: our heart's longing for itself expressed through color, sound, emotion and art, expressed through the gift of imagination mixed with hope and love.

What do I dream about in this way?

My heart longs for what my body does not currently know: health and fitness. Deep within the thoughts and feelings at my core I long for, dream about, being strong again in body; in shape enough to climb a mountain or run on the beach. In this place of dreaming I have returned to the body that knows joy from being more than from food or survival. In that body I am playful and have energy to give my  family, friends, and even strrangers who cross my path.

Whoa! Deeper still, deeper than than healthy body is a spirit that has found peace and joy in just being here. The effort to find balance is less of a struggle and more of a dance or a sweet song. In this place, I know who I am and that is enough. I can share but it doesn't need to be shared. I can receive but I don't need to get anything.

All that I sense is Love.

The words to Lia Falls song are appropriate here:

"Deep in my heart, deep in my heart, deep in my heart, deep in my heart."

sitting downwind

so here i sit
downwind from eden
my feet dangling off the edge of my bed
aching with plantar faciitus
my ears ringing with a decade of tinnitus
my tummy bulging with too much sitting
my shoulder feeling the weight of too many burdens

no! i'm not old,
i'm just sitting a little too far from eden
down here where even the love-filled heart
gets her thoughts tangled in the mess
of having more to do than she expected she'd be able
of wishing she could take away the pain
of loneliness and disconnection that plagues the innocent
of loving more than she deserves

then friendship reaches out a hand
reason offers wisdom that encourages
family smiles at my presence here
the passing tree offers her loving protection
oceans sing their hearts truth
a dog wags her tail when I enter
the ground rises to support my large weight
and the sun lets me rise with it

suddenly getting into eden seems unnecessary
if in all this mess I am still
a note on the scale
of life's symphony
sigh

~jules, march 11, 2013

LOVE IS KNOCKING

Due to my particular personality type and preferences, one of the places I have often and rather mistakenly looked for worth, is in other people. From the time I was just a little kid, age six or so, I have wondered, if my existence made any difference at all. My parents were missionaries in Madagascar and my oldest brothers were gone from home by the time I was three. A lot of separation had me wondering, does it matter if I'm in the family or not? And at boarding school, though my friends were like siblings, it was hard to escape the doubt. Did I really belong? I remember trying so hard to fit in. I kept my mouth shut, worked hard and tried to laugh at the right jokes and play well enough in the games but always the doubt nagged me.

When I was 17, my parents left the mission field and moved back to the "States."(USA) My doubt moved right along with me and grew to occupy quite a bit of my time because now it was more obvious than ever that i was very different from those around me. Whoa! Growing up barefoot with almost no possessions does not prepare you for shopping sprees and cars and phones. And growing up in boarding school does not prepare you for socializing here in America.

I made it through college, got married, had kids and decided to stay home full time with them as they grew. And doubt, ever the faithful companion, kept up with me. Even with children and a community of friends and a my husband's wonderful family to belong to, that doubt was still there sometimes. But then something happened that changed everything.

September 28, 2000, my third son died of brain cancer when he was 11 1/2. Among the many things that changed after that was my concept of belonging and being worthy. Losing what mattered to me more than anything made me realize that all that mattered to anyone out there is all that ever mattered to me...LOVE. Very quickly I learned to accept that LOVE connection wherever I could find it. Slowly my heart began to open. It was the only way to heal. And LOVE wasn't always where I expected. There were people in my family and even very, very close friends who abandoned me during that time and there were people who stepped forward that I would never have expected to.

Worth isn't based on your history or your accomplishments or your talents or even your ability to dream. You are worthy simply because you are loved. And I have learned to give up trying to control where that love comes from because you might miss that a person you pass on the street will be the most loving person you ever met. And you might waste a lot of energy trying to get approval from a parent or sibling who will never understand how much you want to belong to them. (I certainly have!)

LOVE is just love and it doesn't care where you were born, how much weight you've gained or how many times you've had to change jobs. LOVE doesn't care if you're 20 or 30 or 80. And LOVE shows up in the most unusual places. Like the other day, when I opened up my Facebook page, there was a comment from an old college classmate, someone i haven't talked to in decades. He said,  "Jules... were you ever a "normal" person? Rather loved your unique you..." And that tiny comment was a reminder to me that I am loved, just just as I am, no assembly required.

So stop being so hard on yourself. You belong and are worthy. I think instead of searching for approval, it just works better to open yourself up to be accepted as you are by the next person you meet or hear from. LOVE is knocking on the door. So let it in!

Happy Valentines Day friends!

love, jules

New Year Resolutions & Fishermen

January 21, 2013

It's Martin Luther King day and a frigid sub-zero blustery morning in Minnesota; a perfect time to sit inside with a hot cup of something and spend time in introspection. I feel a ramble coming on.

I resolve to write a blog entry every day in 2013. Oh wait, that might be setting the bar a bit too high. Let me change that to every week. oops! It's already January 21st and I am only on the first blog. New Years resolution fail! Check!

Yesterday, the pastor at my church preached a sermon on Jesus calling the fishermen, Peter, James, and John in Luke 5:1-11. In the story, Jesus says to Peter, "Push out into deeper water, and let down your nets for a catch." Peter, (i imagine with doubt or sarcasm attached) says, "we've been fishing all night and caught nothing but if you say so." So they let down their nets in deeper water and catch so many fish they have to ask for help from James and John in another boat and both boats are so full they begin to sink. That's enough  proof for the 3 fishermen to leave everything and follow Jesus.

There are several points in the story that really grabbed my attention. The first was Jesus invitation to go deeper and let down the nets. Whoa! how much deeper does he think I can go? Deeper? how much deeper? Exactly where? The second thing that jumped out at me was Peter's response. It's classic. "I already tried and got nothing." and then the challenge back to Jesus..."if you say so" I'm pretty sure that Peter expected to prove that Jesus was wrong. And then comes the surprise! Abundance! more abundance! Surprise! there is not only fish, there is more than enough. In fact there is more than enough for two boats...there is probably enough for a whole village or the whole earth. Why is it that I always think so small? In spite of the evidence, I continue to live as if I need to worry about there being enough. For Peter, James and John, this experience was a game-changer. they left full-time fishing to follow Jesus lead. I wonder what that would like for me. What do I need to leave behind, not because i'm bad at it but because it is time to move toward something deeper, something better?

And then, there is Martin Luther King Jr. He's one of those ultimate examples of living a life of discipleship, a life authentic to the call to bring justice, to love kindness and to walk humbly with our god. What would that look like for me? How do I bravely go into deeper waters and open the nets, open my heart to let love win?

I have a love-hate relationship with new year's resolutions. Usually they are just another reason to be disappointed in myself. I mean I signed up for a gym membership a month ago today and have gone 3 times so far. I've got a long way to go there. But then the fishermen and Martin Luther King set the example differentlly. Neither had any idea when they started how it would turn out. MLK didn't know that what he did would bring freedom. He simply had to say and live what he believed. Peter cast his nets filled with doubt and discouragement.. The abundance doesn't seem to come from me anyway.  Maybe it is just about daring to let down, to cast our nets out and then just see what happens even if we have doubt.

Where have you been striving all night and come up empty? What deeper water are you invited to? How would you cast your nets?

Happy January!

sending you love,

jules