GRACE ENOUGH--Part 2

The earth beneath your feet has been absorbing the light since the day it was created. 

Stop for a moment and soak some of it up...there's enough for all.

Look out the window and gaze at the beauty of the sky and trees.

Lean into the Love around you.

There's enough love, enough light, enough peace, enough joy for all.

These are the gifts that no economy can take away or produce.

These are the gifts that no war can destroy. 

These are your gifts!

~ Jules Bonde, December 20, 2014

CHRISTMAS THANKSGIVING

MORNING—THE DAY BEFORE CHRISTMAS EVE
The sun rises, peeking through clouds, over a quiet neighborhood in a big city. Mannheim Steamroller Christmas music fills my heart and the kitchen. The music connects me to my childhood Christmases, to the music that has filled me each and every year since my first Christmas so many years ago. As the music booms, we cook eggs, cut fruit and make tea for our breakfast. The sun has made it over the roofs of the houses and bursts through our windows. African violets and poinsettia beam with joyful color. We eat in silence, reading the paper, doing sudoku or just listening. It is not an enforced silence but a natural one. No words are needed right now. Silent Night, delicious eggs and the sun streaking across the table are enough for this moment.

 

WHAT IF?

Soon the moment will be over and we’ll be in our Christmas party-prep mode. This year, as we put up decorations, bought presents for loved ones and talked with our family about plans, I found myself wishing this is how we approached more of our lives. What if instead of just once a year, we quarterly or monthly spent a day displaying beauty, listening to or singing great music and cherishing moments with our loved ones? What if? What if it didn’t need to be a date on the calendar or snow or the perfect tree? What if we just found uncelebrated days to be just as lovely, just as full of desire to bring joy to one another? What if? What if, more often, we asked others what they want and then did what we could to help them get that? What if?

 

CHRISTMAS THANKSGIVING

I am so grateful for this cherished moment—for the music, for the food, for the sun, for my sons nearby to plan the party with, for my best friend and partner Pete, to share this messy and glorious life with. What if I dropped the worry about getting the perfect gifts and the right food and just carried the gratitude instead? Perhaps the gratitude will be the best gift I give this year. Perhaps.

 

THANK YOU!

I will begin with you. I am so grateful for you in my world dear reader and friend. I couldn’t be here writing this without you. I couldn’t share it without you to receive it. You make ALL the difference in the world. Your presence in my life is cherished.

Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

 

With all my heart,

Jules

 

December 23, 2021

 

STAYING AT HOME (Grounding in Home)

STAYING AT HOME / GROUNDING IN HOME
April 12, 2020 [it's been almost 30 days since we started closing down and sheltering at home during the Coronavirus/COVID-19 crisis]

Officially, during the last 4 weeks, we have been under a "Stay at Home" order in Minnesota. Some call it "lockdown," some call it "sheltering at home," some call it "sabbath," hmmmm. I guess what you call it depends on your perspective. Officially, I can't write in my journal right now without having this situation be part of my thoughts. Quite simply, the COVID-19 crisis has affected everyone and everything I know, except love. Love is a constant.

Coincidentally, my book group started reading and discussing "Grounded: Finding God in the World, A Spiritual Revolution" by Diana Butler Bass in mid-February. After being derailed for a couple weeks, I invited the group to meet with me on Zoom to connect and discuss the book. Also, coincidentally, the chapter we discussed last Thursday is called "Home." Butler Bass does a great job of thoroughly covering the subject of home (ancient history to modern times including Bible and church effects on home) except she doesn't cover what home might come to mean to us after a mass quarantine such as we are in the middle of. Truthfully, I don't know the answer to that either but I do have some thoughts I'd like to share.

So what is home? Where do you live? How do you define home? What does it mean for you? I agree with Butler Bass that these are sacred questions. So I ask, what does 'Stay at Home' mean for your heart?

The beach I grew up on in Madagascar

Home as a Place: In my early years, home was plain and simply Madagascar (the island on the other side of the world, not the movie). The whole island, which is as large as Texas, felt like home to me. The climate, the people, the food, the earth, everything felt like home. It is the place of my birth, which is often our early definition of home. In particular, the ocean was home to me. The ocean is constantly moving and changing, always another wave coming in and in that changing, there is life you can count on. I always feel better in my heart, like I am home when I am near the ocean. The second best is being near any other body of water. Home is a place where my feet can wade in the water and know there is life, there is breath, there is another day.

Home as Family: It gets messier when you start thinking about home and family as being synonyms. It's messy because family is messy. My parents loved each other and the world. They also loved their faith life. To the best of their ability, they tried to create home for us, a place where we could grow in love and faith. My dad as a missionary pastor enthusiastically shared his faith with us. My own faith journey starts with my parents. In many little ways, my parents are why I feel so connected to my own spiritual grounding. God's love and grace is home to me.

the HOME, Missionary Children's Home

But, (with family there is always a but) we all went off to boarding school when we were 5 or 6. In fact my siblings were already there when I was born. So the messy of my family is that we never really lived together all in one place, as a family. Then the kids and adults at boarding school became a second family to me, one just as messy. In fact our boarding school was affectionately called "the Home," short for Missionary Children's Home. There was the girls I had as a roommates who still feel more like siblings than my family of origin. There were the houseparents who were there when I was sick, who heard me give my first speech and my first piano recital and all that. And there was the fact the missionary family were are always coming and going, so one could never sink roots too deep. You had to be ready for the next goodbye.

Then when I came back to the states both of those families evaporated. Once in America, my parents and siblings ended up living coast to coast and all in different states. It is hard to build relationship from a distance. The same was true of my classmates and peers from boarding school. For awhile and even still, it often has felt like I am an orphan, without a family. Dad and Mom died 33 and 13 years ago respectively. At moments I have even been jealous of friends' siblings fighting, thinking "at least you have a sibling to fight with." I did get a new family though. I married my dear husband straight out of college, when we were 22. Part of the attraction was that he had a family, a very grounded and solid one. The Bonde family has been such a gift to this orphan. I've been able to graft my heart on to their solid vine and have some roots as a result. And that's helped Minnesota to feel a bit like home.

Pete & I at home.

I wanted so badly to have family, that I had four kids and then became what is called at "homemaker," a stay-at-home mom. Yes, that's me! I built a whole career, a whole life on stay-at-home. I haven't always like the moniker 'homemaker' but it really does describe it. I didn't just find a home, I created one. And I didn't do it alone. I had help from Pete and my friends and later, my kids. So that's an interesting twist to this combining of family and home. Do you find home or do you create home or is it both? I found Pete to be my home AND Pete and I created a home together.

Home as Relationship and Community: Had you asked me in 1976, where I would make a home in the USA, I would not have said, "Minnesota." It is not my climate at all. I want something closer to the tropics. It is as far away from the ocean as you can get in this country. There are no mountains. My siblings aren't here. But after 39 years of living here, I find myself feeling more and more home. And the reason is not the climate or the river but the people. As time goes by, I find more and more that people are my home. Church is home because it's full of people earnestly searching for a common way of love and forgiveness, people supporting each other, accepting each other. Community song circles are home because they are full of people, bravely willing to live authentically and wholly, offering their pure hearts in song. Writing circles are home, for the same reason. My close friends are home because they invite me to be me. My children and grandchildren are home, each carrying a piece of me in them. And each of them loving me in spite of my mistakes. My husband, Pete, is home. With him, I am truly and wholly myself, in all my dark and light moods. With him. I am home.  Home is the people. I wouldn't want to live anywhere else now because so many of my people live here.

And that brings me back to the corona virus crisis and the order to stay home. I have had moments of naked loneliness because I'm not seeing my people. And I've had moments of deep gratitude that I have people to miss. I've also had time to find the home, the place of center and grounding in me and had time to breathe into the home of my soul. I'm not happy about the crisis but I am grateful for the invitation to breathe within. The question is can I be at home in my heart, soul? Can I be at peace and not afraid of just being with myself? Can we be home in just being? and not always doing?

Other definitions of home: Diana Butler Bass has several definitions of home in her chapter. Here are some of them:

• Home is more than a house (p. 166).
• Home is the geography of our souls (p. 166).
• Home is a place where we belong (p. 167).
• Home is a place where God meets us (p. 167)
• Home is where the heart is (p 172)…the abiding place of our affections.
• Home is the location that shelters our lived experience, but also holds our memories and shapes our desires. (p. 172)

What is your definition of home? How are you being invited to "stay home" during this time of isolation and social distancing? Where do you find home? Where do you live? Who invites you to feel safe at home within?

I pray that as you leand into this time of social distancing, you find peace and health in your home and in your heart.

~Jules

WHAT IS ABOUT TREES?

What is about trees that grabs my attention so?

Branches reaching up and out
perfectly organized and tangled 
in a crochet knot
against the blue sky

Bark that thickens 
and hardens and breaks
as the heart bursts open 
as life fattens the tree's torso

Roots that grab on and hold
reaching deep and wide for stability
for nutrients and water

Leaves budding long before spring
unfold at just the right moment
color everything to a rich warm velvety green
and then fire up orange just before they fall away

Shadows of the wise 
and wonderful neighbors
cast intriguing reflections 
on snow and sand and water

Tempting me to look up to them
for inspiration for my perfectly organized and tangled mess
for courage to allow my heart to crack open as I grow
and a reminder to reach deep and wide.

GRATITUDE MONTH--#25: TODAY'S LITTLE REMINDER

In a conversation this morning, an old truth bubbled up to the surface. It was this wisdom I had learned from a little girl with a big heart. 

You don't have to wait to grow up; you don't have to wait to have enough money or be rich; you don't even really have to know what you are doing to make a difference. Just follow your heart and when you need it, ask for help from friends.

She didn't tell me this. I just learned it from watching her work and live. I mean, if we all waited until everything was just right, we would never get anything done.

Today, I am grateful for this little reminder, this piece of wisdom. What a relief to know I don't have to wait for the perfect conditions. I can just start from my heart and move from there. And there is no need to judge my success on my speed of movement. I will move on as I am able. 

I wish you the same grace for your dreams and projects and even for your obligations that are waiting for you. 

Peace!

Jules

GRATITUDE MONTH--#23: MYSTERIOUS MARVELOUS HOPE

GRATITUDE MONTH #23: Mysterious Marvelous Hope

I wake up to the light of a rising sun
Already my subconscious is calling me to the LIST
Already nagging me about how far behind I am
Could I go any slower? 
The obvious answer is yes!

Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes
I ignore the piles I must walk around
to get to the next part of my day
Some days my life just seems
Like one long to-do list
Running through a never-ending pile
Of life's stuff

Then suddenly, the fog lifts 
I find myself working on a project
that's been on hold for two years!?!
It is a complete mystery to me
how this has come about 
And yet here I am making progress
AT LAST! and it feels GREAT!

The patience of our better selves
The patience of grace to plow through the mess
The tenacity of hope for the dream
I wish I could claim credit for it
But I can't. It's a divine grace.

I can only work with gratitude
for the energy and motivation
to tackle the task in the now!
I can only pray for more of this
MYSTERIOUS MARVELOUS HOPE
and the strength to follow through.

with gratitude for this day,

jules

Kindness

Tonight, I was answering Dragonfly Project customer service mail. I'm not always as responsive as I could be but tonight I had an opportunity to offer some kindness to someone who had accidentally ordered the wrong thing. So I took the time to write a special note back to them. I don't know if it will make a difference but in the moment I thought of all the times people, for no other reason than kindness and generosity, offered me some grace.

My friend Barbara McAfee has this song "Kindness" that I just love. I've been fortunate to sing this song with her and others several times. I have to say it is a song that has gotten under my skin. I especially love this line "if those who owed us nothing, gave us nothing, how poor we'd be. The very source of life itself is generosity."

It's true! Where would be without the generosity of strangers? How would have ever made it this far with kindness and generosity? So often, we are encouraged to be focused on our selves. what do we need? What will best for us? Well, along the way I've discovered that sometimes what is best for me is to be generous and kind to a person, perhaps even someone I don't know. It's not just a gift to them but a gift to myself to add some love to the universe. Maybe this is the way my heart gets a chance to grow. Whatever the case, I hope my gesture helped in some way.

You can listen to Barbara's song here:

UPDATE: I heard back from the customer, who was grateful for the extra personal contact. She plans to  order more cards from us. And she feels her heart has been heard. Kindness. It's a powerful thing.

A NEW YEAR'S INVITATION

(photo: dawn on my street on winter solstice)

A NEW YEAR'S INVITATION

A new year has come

and your are invited to the feast of

another 365 days of living

a buffet of flavors and seasons

Love, humor, color, and more

Come taste the life offered to you

Open your ears to the music

your eyes to the beauty

your heart to the possibilities

A new year has come and you are invited

to live life to its fullest

to be who you are

may 2017 be your best year yet!

~Jules

First steps

sweet chubby bare feet cutting their first paths across the hardwood floor arms out for balance and reaching my grandson learning to walk and climb and tumble and bump into things which I find so encouraging inspired again in my own journey to take the path accept the bumps and falls and rise again strong daring greatly sparkling eyes grin his mouth opens in wonder and I'm inspired again to enjoy the moment wallow in the joy of it living life as it comes
every step another adventure ~grandma jules, 8/25/16

Winning the Lottery!

July 21, 2016

In 1959 I was born into a beautiful and loving family. I am just so grateful that I landed there. My parents were in their forties, about 10 to 15 years older than my friends and peers. My siblings, (all 5 of them) were off at boarding school, 700 miles away. [my parents were Lutheran missionaries on the island of Madagascar from 1948 to 1976 and boarding school was part of that experience] My mom and I flew down to introduce me to them when I was 6 weeks old, the first of many attempts at family reunions--with intention to be family together. But as it turned out, we never really did live together except for a few vacations here and there. There weren't as many gatherings as we wanted. Like the others, I went to boarding school too, when i was in first grade and on from there. And then after college, each of us in turn spread our wings and flew far and wide and now live in 5 different states and coast to coast.

As I look back over the last 57 years, there have been a lot of tear-filled nights and days, longing for my family, wishing I could live with them and praying that one day, I would have a family to really belong to. This being apart has influenced both my mistakes and my wholehearted decisions. It's been my deepest pain and most exquisite gift.

Three weeks ago was our most recent family reunion. We all (all 6 of us siblings) came together (plus a few spouses and children) to spend a week together. It was amazing! It was loving and it was, for a few days, that feeling of family. We did more story-telling than ever before. We spent more time together. I found myself returning to that deep gratitude, for landing there, in that place 57 years ago. We've all grown up a lot, we're all in our wisdom years and now in addition to loving each other, we have the grace to just be together and enjoy the moments when we can. I am filled with love and gratitude for that week.

I can't stop  there though. I have to include another reunion that happened the week before when I spent a week with 7 women that I have known since birth as all of us grew at boarding school together, all of us close to the same age. We had a reunion at one of their homes and spent a week, laughing, talking, crying and just wallowing in this space of friendship and this feeling of family; adopted family. I can't believe the kindness and support and generosity I felt that week. I can only begin to express my gratitude for that.

And there's more! because after both of these reunions I went to practice with my hospice/comfort choir [Morning Star Singers]. And in those first few notes of harmony, I felt so at home, more myself perhaps than I feel anywhere else in the world. This is my tribe too, these gorgeous hearts that live so lovingly, that blend so beautifully, that fight to keep kindness and peace int he world with their presence.

And there's even more! In a few days, I will celebrate 35 years of wonderful, joyful, amazing marriage and friendship with my husband Pete. I can't believe I got so lucky! he is truly one of earth's most treasured gifts. And with him came another entire clan who took me in and cared for me. And with him came our beautiful children and grandchildren. In addition I have great friends who have stood by me through thick and thin.

I feel today as if I've won some secret lottery. And like any winner I am crying with tears of joy. I've won it all! --Family, partnership, marriage, friends and time to enjoy them!

How many ways is there to say thank you? and grateful? I thought perhaps this old picture of me would do the trick. In honor of all those who have touched my heart and my life, I raise my hands to the heavens!

Thank you!

The Basement Excavation: Giving Thanks for the Connections

In the silence of the early morning, I stopped to meditate for a bit, to ponder. I became overwhelmed with gratitude for this knowing in my bones that I am not alone, that Love, that God, that all of you are with me. I have spent a lot of my life longing for connection (due in part to the conditions of my childhood growing up in a boarding school).

Later, down in the basement, the box I picked up to go through contained all of the sympathy cards sent to us after our son Hans died fifteen years ago. As I threw them into the recycling, I opened each one to read the names signed inside. I just wanted to see the names again. A feeling of gratitude washed over me and stopped me in my tracks. I am so thankful for the community of people whose threads of love held us up during that dark time.

As part of my ongoing longing to connect, I signed up for Facebook long before many of my peers. As a result I was able to "find" people I had lost track of. But Facebook itself is a surreal place. It is not a place of real connection, of real relationship but it is a place where we can come and remember how connected we are. As I have been going through decades of letters, cards and notes, I am experiencing the same thing there. Those letters and cards are not the real relationship but they are a reminder of all the connections my family has had over the years. Honestly, if I had to count them all, there would be hundreds of people over the years that have woven their threads with ours. Perhaps that is part of the answer of why my mom and her parents saved so many of their letters--as visible reminders of those connections. I can't say I blame them. Sometimes when we feel so alone, we need those reminders. It can help to have someone call or text or send you little note on email.

Brene Brown says humans are "wired for connection." This is certainly true in my case. There have been times when I have felt so alone, so separate from family, from friends and even from God. The longing to connect has sometimes been a physical pain in my body. But always when I pause to look and listen, to meditate and ponder, I notice there are threads there. You are there! And I fill up with gratitude and realize I have enough, more than enough.

So if I haven't thanked you lately, for weaving your threads with mine, consider yourself thanked! Friends like you, are worth more than all the gold!

THANK YOU! MERCI BEAUCOUP! MANGE TUSEN TAKK! MISAOTRA!

The Basement Excavation: Pushing through the Wall

Often when we go on a diet, we lose a lot of weight in the first couple weeks. The first ten pounds are pretty easy, although we have worked hard at the new habit of either not eating or eating healthier. It's great! We are proud of ourselves with good reason. We're making progress. It makes us want to keep going, to lose more but then something happens. Our body slows down the weight loss. The needle on the scale doesn't move. We hit the dieting wall. We work just as hard but with less results. Sigh!

Clearing my basement has been like going on a diet. It's been hard and it's been rewarding up to a point. At first it felt like I was making progress, emptying boxes. But as the days rolled on, it got harder. Four weeks into my 2-box-a-day commitment it began to feel like nothing was happening at all. I kept doing the work but it kept feeling messy, lost and confusing. Like the kid in the back seat, I kept wanting to ask, "Are we there yet? when are we going to get there?" Ugh! I have some days where I just wanted to close the basement door and forget it. Then I got sick with a cold this last week and that about undid the whole thing for me. Like in the beginning I would walk down the stairs, look around and then just come right back up. I really needed some new energy.

Fortunately for me a solution presented itself. Our son and daughter-in-law (Karl & Erica) live nearby. They are working on a project at their house too so we decided to do an exchange of help. So yesterday I got my burst. For the first time since I started the project, we were able to move furniture around and begin to create the new areas. We also did some deep cleaning as we moved things. The result makes the clearing much more real. Now when I look around, I can see the open spaces. It feels good. It feels like I might have actually done something. I still feel the burden of how much is left to do but I feel a renewed sense of commitment.

We will over time meet several walls in our lives. Some of these walls will be "dark nights of the soul." Some will just be piles of  laundry or bills to pay. I confess there have been times when I sensed a wall and just turned myself around and went a different direction. It's hard to go through the walls, be in the discomfort long enough, sweat a few drops, get dirty and weary. But we don't necessarily have to do it alone. We can get help. It is amazing how much easier it is to push through that wall when we have someone willing to stand next to us, to be in it with us.

I pray that you will have someone willing to stand with you when you face your wall.

love, jules

Changing seasons

Changing Seasons
warm sunny blue sky yesterday
cloudy, blustery cool wind today
a few raspberries still growing
even as the leaves on the bushes
brown and drop
the changing season is 
as fickle as my heart
one day I am absolutely certain
I am ready to move on, get things done
the next day I have crawled back in my bed
to wallow in sweet memories 

and mourn the losses
one minute I'm going to take on the world
sure as any that my heart can take it all on
the next minute, I've decided to take it slow
let's think it through one more time
and then a deep sigh to pause
I look out the window and see
I will change as the seasons do
as I have always done
try or not I will go with the tide
someday looking back on this moment
with gratitude and grief
noticing how the leaves that dropped
became food for the spring
and it will be enough

~jules, 10/12/2015

Looking at Light

What if the gift of the shadow, the fog, the smoke 
is that you can bear to look at the light?

welcome shadow

welcome mystery

welcome tenderness

those moments that invite me

to look toward the light

to see the gift

to open myself

to love

to grace

to god

~just jules, 7/5/2015

a beautiful mistake

I can see her smile still, with the gentlest twinkling eyes behind it, long blonde hair and cute pink dress. Her natural ease as she sat down made me think she was much older than her 8 years. This little angel sat next to me and we became sweet friends but none of it would have happened if I hadn't goofed.

As I was boarding my plane yesterday, I was talking on the phone with a friend. I knew my seat number and when I saw it, I stopped and threw my backpack in an overhead bin and crawled into my seat, barely missing a beat in the conversation with friend on the phone. We talked for a bit and just as we were saying goodbye, this little girl crawled in and sat next to me in the middle seat. Her mother was in the seat in front of her. I had seen them in the terminal. They were flying on standby and took the seats that were available to them. The little girl's sister was in a seat across the aisle.

As she sat down, I greeted my travel mate with an enthusiastic "hi...how lucky am i to have you sit next to me." She smiled back sweetly and innocently. After she settled, we began talking. About 5 minutes later, a man came along asking if my seat was 41F.  I said "no, my seat is 42F," and then realized I was in the wrong seat. Fortunately he was nice enough to let me stay. He sat in 42F. And I breathed a sigh of relief that I wouldn't have to leave my new friend.

We didn't exchange names at first. We started with bigger stuff, like where we traveling, what our favorite school subjects were and things like that. I had heard most of her life story before I even knew her name. Turns out she'd been on a plane about every 2 months since she'd been born. Her dad was a pilot and her mom a flight attendant. That's how they had met. They married shortly before she was born. They had lived several places, had family around the country and traveled a lot. We talked about how her little sister was kind of  "stealing" her friends and how she was going on a trip to Florida with her best friend while her sister would be going to Hawaii with two of her other friends. I was just amazed at how eloquently she shared her story.

She told me how at first she loved flying, especially because she would get car sick. Flying was easier and not so hard. that is, until a couple of months ago. They were flying threw a storm and for about 15 minutes, it was pretty bumpy ride. Since then, flying is rather terrifying for her. Here she is telling me all this and i'm thinking she's the calmest, most mature little 8-year-old I ever met. I'm thinking she does not look scared. Her eyes keep telling me all is well and that I am a welcome guest.

I took my zentangle kit and started drawing. She enjoyed watching me and we talked about how she liked art. She was very encouraging of my efforts to draw. Later, when I was writing on my computer, she took out her colored pencils and I watcher her. It was my turn to be impressed. When the drink cart came by she refused to have a treat, explaining that she had spilled the drink all over herself once and didn't want that to happen again. Eight years old and already she's make some pretty detailed decisions about her life based on mistakes and mishaps.

I did eventually speak with her mom a little. And we all held hands as we dove through the clouds to our landing. It was the first time I saw how scared she really was. "Laura" was grateful and so was her mom as was I. The four hour flight zipped by and I felt light and easy as I disembarked. I saw them one more time in the terminal as they caught up with Grandma who was waiting for them. It is my prayer that they will have many, many safe and joyful travels in their future.

I still can't believe my luck in having Laura sit next to me and all of it because I made a mistake and sat in the wrong seat.

LIFE IS JUST MESSY

This idea that if we are on the right track, all things align and if we are on the wrong track, all things are bumpy is a myth. Bad things happen to bad people and to good people.. Life is just messy. I am no more immune from these mishaps than you. What we perceive as good things happening, also seems to be sometimes random and sometimes purposeful.

Breathe easy my friend. We are all in this mess together. The magic is not in the success or failure but in the way LOVE flows through us, bringing healing in every situation, bringing wholeness and connection. The magic is not that I didn't get ill this winter but that through the illness my heart was drawn to tenderness and trust and love once again. The miracle is that when I needed it, my body told me to rest and I listened.

I don't mean to keep repeating myself about my experience with Hans but I learned a lot from that day in 1999 when the radiologist told me my 10-year-old son had a brain tumor. Up to that point, I had all the ingredients of a "successful" and "blessed" life--happy marriage to my best friend, wonderful healthy children, enough money to allow me to stay home with them, an active church community, good schools, and good friends and nearby family. I thought I had it made. Does the cancer and all the fall-out from it mean that I was on the wrong track? Does the fact that my son died, 16 months later, mean that my prayers weren't heard? and the list of questions goes on.

This is an extreme example and that's why I bring it up. When I look back on my son's life and death and all that has transpired since, all I feel is love and gratitude. Would I take my son back in heartbeat? YES. Would I trade places with him? YES> Would I trade my heart back to that woman i was before he he got cancer? NO. LOVE prevailed even if luck did not. Certainly then, Love can overcome my error on those days when it seems like all I do is folly and the entire universe seems to be calling me a "loser!"

I believe in a force more powerful than any mistake I can make or evil that can fall upon me. I believe in God's creative and redeeming LOVE, a force so amazing that it even touches the crazy and tangled Jules...me!

Sending you love and grace,

jules

Relax. Be Yourself.

Sometimes my friend Sally says wise things in just the right way. The other day she posted this article on Facebook which she summarized so succinctly, so wisely. So I turned it into a poster of sorts to share with you. I would just add: Relax! Be Yourself! 

Thanks Sally!

BALANCING ON THE TEETER TOTTER OF LIFE

a lot of life seems to be about striking a balance

or surviving whichever end of the teeter totter (seesaw) we happen to be on

we can't all be up at the same time

which also means we can't all be down at the same time

thank balance for that

like the teeter totter
balance doesn't seem to come altogether

often it is in having periods of up
followed by periods of down
and so forth

for years i read hundreds of books and watched hundreds of movies

and now for years i've spent more time writing than reading

more living my own life
then watching someone else's

when i had four little kids to raise full time 

the struggle was to find moments of solitude

then they grew up, moved out
and now to find connection and community

for years I gave my heart too freely, almost spent too much

now my middle-aged body requires more self-care, more self-awareness

for ever wave, there must be an undercurrent that draws back into itself

for ever dollar spent, there must be a dollar earned

for ever mountain, there is a valley somewhere

from stillness comes motion

from noise comes silence

giving moves to receiving

stress moves to creativity or illness

busy goes on vacation

emotion longs for logic

science dances with mystery

idleness longs for purpose

the ebb and flow of life is always in motion

balance is not a static existence

it is a flow from one yoga posture to another

from a glimmer of light, to darkest night

from wakefulness to sleep 

from death to life

every day being born anew

sunrise replacing sunset

and so forth

balance in motion

yin and yang dancing with life

and underneath it all

love and grace flows on

so wherever you are today

may you feel the grace and love to move toward balance
~ jules, 3/9/2015

Fishing for Joy

I was walking down that old familiar beach,
That beloved place where I often pause to listen,
my feet slowly and deeply caressing the sand.
I looked up and there he was down at the far end,
A boy of about ten years, barefoot at the edge of the water.
He held a pole with a string dangling from the end of it.
I'd had several conversations with him on other visits.
As I approached, I commented, "Wow! You're fishing!"
with a grin on my face in response to the pleasure on his.
"Nah!" he answered in refute, "I'm not fishing."
"I just like holding the pole and watching the string."
I couldn't help but laugh in delight at his reply.
Then with a deep sigh of letting go and some slight hesitation
I gave myself permission to sit down and watch with him in silence.
We spent the rest of the afternoon
fishing for Joy.

~Jules
January 8, 2015

IN STORIES SHARED

in stories shared

grace dances between us

compassion waters the seeds of grief

love shines down

hope is born

9/26/14 ~ Jules

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