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Mystery and Magic

Mar 9, 2023 | Spirituality

We can never know with any degree of certainty all the ways in which our choices, our life, has rippled far, far beyond us and into an interconnected world that is wide beyond comprehension. Wider still when we consider the lives of others (known and unknown) and the ways in which their choices have influenced and impacted us. It defies definition. It’s beyond our ability to fully comprehend or grasp.

Mystery.
Magic.

These two words—mystery and magic—captivate me. To allow for them, to anticipate and expect them, invites me into imagination; into a belief in things that are beyond me, my understanding, my efforting, and my control. One might even say they require faith.

The poet, W.B. Yeats, said this:

The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.

This feels like perfect intention and hope: having the “sense” to see a world full of magic (and mystery).

It is my intention and hope.

As I’ve reflected on this for the past few days, I’ve felt the near-demand of competency and perfection show up in full force. Surely there is a plan or process or 3-step succession I can employ that will ensure mystery and magic.

And this? The part of me that already wants to control?

Deep breath.

Mystery and magic will not be tamed.

So, this leaves me with a choice:

Will I demand exhausting certainty and proficiency (of myself and everything/everyone else), or will I loosen my clenched fists, take another deep breath, and *just* trust? 

As is true with most things of value and worth, this is easier said than done.

I spent large swaths of my life certain that if I could just get everything in order—my thoughts, my emotions, my desires, my weight, my money, my marriage, my work, and yes, even my house—then I would feel safe, at peace, and whole. This is, of course, what our capitalistic culture promulgates and promotes. And it is, at least in part, what my former belief system promised (along with “reasons and proofs”). Everything hinged on my efforting, my competency, my perfection, and yet again, my control.

Fewer absolutes and more “Maybe.” Fewer answers and more curiosity. Less order and more that is random and strange and serendipitous. Less pressure, no more “perfect,” and lots more possibility. 

Mystery.
Magic.

Seemingly Random Things

Feb 23, 2023 | Spirituality

My oldest daughter lives about 9.5 hours away; a reasonable road-trip. So, in preparation for my most recent trek her way, I prepared! I downloaded an audio book in advance, along with a couple podcasts that I’ve been meaning to listen to. I couldn’t have anticipated the way in which these (and one more event besides) weaved themselves into something else entirely.

Four (seemingly) random things I now see as completely interconnected.

Thing #1:
I listened to Celeste Ng’s newest book, Our Missing Hearts. I knew I couldn’t go wrong with this choice, given how much I loved Everything I Never Told You and Little Fires Everywhere. Plus I’d recently heard her on a podcast and was intrigued by her perspective, her wisdom, her heart.

I won’t spoil the story for you, but suffice it to say it is profoundly thought-provoking. It solidified so many of my opinions/fears about our hyper-patriotic culture, about “leadership”-through-fear, about how easy (and understandably self-protective) it is to look the other way instead of stepping toward justice. And all of this through a plot that primarily involves an 11-year-old boy.

Thing #2:
About an hour into my return trip, I finished the book and switched over to the 2022 Podcast of the Year: Roe V. Wade by Slow Burn. Only 4 episodes long (unless you subscribe and get all the bonus content), it doesn’t talk at all about the recent repeal of this ruling; rather, it tells the powerful (and mostly unknown) stories of individual women and cases, their trials, the unbelievable legal battles, and the convergence of forces that enabled this legislation to be passed in the first place.

It’s well worth listening to. It was a reminder of how easily women, their bodies, and their agency/will is disregarded AND how important it is—ongoing and always—to hear and honor women’s stories, both individually and collectively.

Thing #3:
I listened to a second podcast from the New York Times called 1619 that tells of how slavery has transformed America.

Again, SO worth listening to. It was a glaring and heartbreaking acknowledgement of how much I take for granted, how much I actually do not know, and how excruciating our history is—not to mention the ways in which every bit of this continues to be perpetuated.

Thing #4:

Just a day or so after my road trip, news was released that Stephen tWitch Boss had died by suicide.

Both of my daughters texted me when they heard the news, given that years and years ago we were obsessed by So You Think You Can Dance—when he won and then the years that followed in which he came back as a mentor and most recently a judge.

This has me reeling and deeply cognizant of the following: 1) we never know what other people are actually experiencing and feeling, no matter how things look on the outside; and 2) the cultural belief-and-demand that success, fame, money, and more will make us happy is a complete lie.

OK. So, how do these things connect to one another? You’ve probably already spotted the common thread, but let me gather it all together by saying this: unless we remain awake and aware, so much passes us by that remains unnoticed, unnamed, and unhealed.

And this: forces always conspire to invite us more deeply into our own story and all that is ours to learn, embrace, and transform both within and without.

An event occurs. An email arrives. A strong, even unexpected emotion thrums in your chest. A conversation takes place. There’s a book you read, a podcast you listen to, a news story you hear, a song that lingers and haunts. All of it seems random in the moment, but when you look beneath / behind / within, you will glimpse what’s weaving them all together . . . and all on your behalf.

These threads, these glimmers, these connections ARE the sacred: endless and infinite ways in which seemingly disparate aspects of our life are really one big, beautiful story that waits for us to see it as such, that holds its breath in anticipation of us stepping into it, that longs for us to live with complete trust in its truth.

Whew! This feels like a big claim: the (seemingly) random events and experiences in our lives are evidence of the sacred, the presence of the sacred, the activity of the sacred—and all on our behalf. 

So, my invitation in all of this? Be curious about the myriad and (seemingly) random ways in which the sacred shows up for you. You don’t have to go searching for it, preparing yourself for it, or working your fingers to the bone to deserve it. Gift. Grace. Surprise. Serendipity. And (seemingly) random.

Mmmm. May it be so, yes? 

About Bridgerton & Romance Novels

Jul 1, 2022 | Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom

A couple years back I devoured every novel in Julia Quinn’s Bridgerton series within a matter of weeks — far before I had any inkling a Netflix version was on the way. (You can only imagine how I responded when that news arrived!)

I’ll admit that I felt a flutter of shame (maybe “embarrassment” is a better word) for pouring through those books in record time, for enjoying them as much as I did, for getting sucked into a romantic trope that is (or at least was), in my opinion, completely unrealistic, nothing more than fantasy, and only enticing because of the steamy sex.

Harsh, I know.

(That inner dialogue and critique did not keep me from reading more — or from binging on both seasons.)

What is it about these stories that draws us in?

I have a few ideas…

So do others:

As early as 2013, an article in The Atlantic endeavored to show “how romance novels came to embrace feminism.” A few years later, the author of an article on the genre in the online women’s magazine Bustle characterized romance novels as some of the perhaps “most rebellious books you can read right now.” Romance novels, she affirmed, are “practically the only books in which women get exactly what they want, all of the time, and aren’t asked to feel bad about it.” (source.)

‘Might be worth reading that last sentence one more time…

Where do you get exactly what you want, all of the time, without being made to feel badly about it?

Where do you know this to be true for yourself? An even better question: DO you know this to be true for yourself?

Go ahead, think about it for a bit. I’ll wait for you. Where do you get exactly what you want, all of the time, without being made to feel badly about it?
.
.
.
.
.
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This is foreign territory for most of us. And it uncovers a truth that we all-too-often dismiss.

We live our lives, in large part, without getting what we want, most of the time, and when we do, we are made to feel badly about it and/or we impose that shame ourselves.

Ouch!

So, what are we to do? Well, maybe read more Romance novels.

They let us imagine our own story, our own life in a much different way from “normal.” All obstacles are conquered. All misunderstanding healed. All betrayal (by self and others) disallowed. We are powerful, chosen, and the one who does the choosing! They allow us to feel into what we deserve and what we will NOT tolerate. They help us identify and name our desires. Yes, for love, but so much more (strength, wit, discernment, agency, courage, passion, voice…) And all of this without a hint of shame.

The story of a woman in a Romance novel invites us to look far more deeply at our own story; to admit and allow, even if only within those pages, that we want what she has. That we want, period.

For the skeptics in the crowd:

Believe me, I know. The tendency is strong to bucket every bit of this into “fantasy,” an escape from reality, a silly diversion. I mean…come on! It’s just a book! It’s a trope that is intentionally designed to make us feel this way. There’s a happy ending, for goodness sake! Come down from the clouds.

And…it always feels far safer to stay in skepticism, even contempt, than to hope. (Believe me, I know.) It’s what I wrote about a couple weeks back, yes? Me not practicing what I preach, resisting desire for fear of disappointment. I get it.

There’s some logic I’m following that I think (and hope) might just change your mind. It’s definitely changed mine.

We must take in as many stories of women as we possibly can — especially those who get what they want, all of the time, without being made to feel badly about it. They invite us to imagine — and then create — a story of our own, a world, in which we are our own protagonists, unashamed, strong, and full of desire — passionate, awake, alive.

We must take in as many stories of women as we possibly can — especially those who knew great harm, misunderstanding and malignment, silencing and shame. They compel us to imagine — and then create — a story of our own, a world, in which their losses are NOT ours, in which we lean on and learn from their wisdom and strength, and through which we are reminded that we are not alone; that we stand on the shoulders of an entire matrilineal line on which we can depend.

Entering into the stories of women don’t whisk us away from reality, they usher us into it — with fierce defiance, fiery passion, and an endless determination to get what we want.

And what is that? What do we want, ultimately?

We want a world in which every woman’s lived story is not imagined; it’s real, felt, experienced, and expressed. Strong and sovereign. Never made to feel badly about anything; instead, honored, acknowledged, and esteemed; heard, seen, and valued.

May it be so.

About welcoming exhaustion…

Mar 25, 2022 | My sort-of Sermons, Women's Wisdom

It may sound strange, but for me, exhaustion is welcome.

Years ago I had a job with a 90-minute commute each way. Getting there was never the issue; it was the return trip. I knew that when I finally pulled up in front of the house, two little girls would be waiting for me. They wanted my full attention; they wanted  of me. There was dinner to fix and dishes to wash and laundry to do and stories to read. On top of it all, my husband unintentionally expected me to read his mood, respond appropriately, and meet every need. (I’m tired just remembering this!)

the closer I got to home, the more weary I felt — the  of what I wanted and needed. I began to realize that with every passing mile, I became less myself and more the person I needed to be . Bottom line: there was a huge-and-growing gap between who I  was and who he wanted me to be; and to be clear, I allowed, perpetuated, even reinforced this for a very long time.  was the exhaustion! Not the drive or the girls or the dinner-prep. I expended a massive amount of energy being someone I was not  I didn’t have to deal with my fear of what would happen if I was fully myself.

My exhaustion became a form of discernment. It drew me toward what deserved my attention, truth-telling, and courage. When we eventually divorced, it hard, but NOT exhausting. And that was data in and of itself!

Now, I hear myself say, “I’m exhausted” or more likely, “I’m weary” I whisper a prayer of gratitude. It’s a gracious and generous alert to acknowledge what deserves my naming and care.

A vast percentage of what makes us exhausted is feeling like we  feel exhausted. Our efforts become fixated on  feeling the way we do, instead of allowing, even welcoming,  that we feel and discovering what longs to be strengthened, healed, let go, and more.

  • Identify and then let go of internalized beliefs and external messages that tell you exhaustion isn’t allowed (or worse, that it somehow means you’re lazy).
  • Take a deep breath and tell yourself the truth about  how you feel? Write it down. Journal it out. Click your heels together three times and say it out loud, “I feel _______.”
  • How might exhaustion be your check-engine light? What is it indicating? What relief might be yours if you could name and address such?

When you allow your exhaustion — even welcome it — it makes room for something “more” to be seen, felt, and honored. Chances are high that whatever is, it won’t be exhausting at all; rather, honest, redemptive, and empowering.

*****

I write a letter every week. It’s my latest thinking, my deepest truths, and what I’d love for you to have. SUBSCRIBE.

What if your spirituality was easy?

Jan 28, 2022 | Hope & Encouragement, Spirituality