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Sacred Conversation with Your Heart – #1

Apr 24, 2017 | My sort-of Sermons, Spirituality, Women's Wisdom, Writing

Today starts a 6-part series that’s all about Sacred Conversation – not with me, but with your heart. Each post will offer another aspect of the topic, the practice, and its significance – along with reflection questions and prompts to invite you into the most important (and ongoing) conversation you’ll ever have. 

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We are surrounded by conversation all day, every day – at the very least, words and talk and verbal noise. At home and work, in the car and on the bus, in stores and on streets, on the web – on TV – in music – on blogs – in books, in neighborhoods and across the globe. Sometimes we engage. Sometimes we listen. Other times it’s just din. 

And then there are the conversations that take place endlessly, continuously within. In my experience they can be far harder to engage and sometimes seemingly impossible to hear. And – they long for both: your hearing, your engagement, your response. These are conversations with your heart. 

Did you know? Your heart speaks. It listens. It asks. It tells. It knows. It feels. It advises. It desires. It hurts. It hopes. It loves. 

Your heart invites you to ongoing, articulate, and beautiful sacred conversations with your deepest, truest self. 

And these are conversations worth having. 

So…let’s begin at the beginning. 

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PART ONE – INTRODUCTIONS 

Every conversation between two people begins with some kind of introduction, a greeting, a hello. For it to move past this point and take on meaning and value, we must want to hear more, want to know more; we  have to determine how the  other wants to be known, how much they are willing to share, how they speak, even  what they don’t say. If either party is reluctant to listen, to hear, to understand, to learn, the conversation ends before it’s even begun. 

Conversation with your heart is no different. 

Do you want to hear what your heart has to say? Do you want to know it well? Do you want to learn the unique ways in which it expresses itself? 

I’m speaking only for myself when I say that sometimes my answer is “no.” 

Sometimes it can be far easier to turn up the volume on other aspects of life than to listen to the heart’s quiet whisper, deep desires, and patient but persistent beating as it waits (and waits and waits) to be heard, acknowledged, trusted, and followed. 

Because here’s the thing: When you really listen and engage in conversation with your heart you find yourself face-to-face with powerful truth: words, sentences, and emotions that graciously ask for response and ongoing dialogue; powerful truth that compels honesty, risk, and change, that will not leave you unchanged. 

Knowing this, tell me true: Do you want to hear what your heart has to say – directly to you? I hope the answer is “yes.” 

REFLECT:

  • Imagine listening to your heart’s introduction of itself when you say, “hello.” How does it respond? Is it outgoing? Shy? Reticent? Enthusiastic? What can you learn of it already… even in these first few words? 
  • If, even for a moment, you could silence all the voices, pressures, demands, disappointments, and expectations that swirl within, what do you imagine you might hear – even in this introductory stage? Single words? Fragments of sentences? Any images that come to mind? 
  • Listen. What does your heart want you to know, to hear, to consider? Write any and everything that comes… 

In line at Starbucks…

Oct 24, 2016 | Mothers and Daughters, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom

Although women’s words have been censored or eliminated from much of our heritage, in the midst of the pain of dehumanization women have nevertheless always been there, in fidelity and struggle, in loving and caring, in outlawed movements, in prophecy and vision. Tracking and retrieving fragments of this lost wisdom and history, all in some way touchstones of what may yet be possible, enable them to be set free as resources for transforming thought and action.
~ Elizabeth A. Johnson, She Who Is

This is probably NOT the stuff that keeps you up at night. It does me, though. Not every night, of course, but still, I do ponder the subject, do pull books off my shelf to bolster my thesis (and remind myself to stay the course), to recognize how tightly woven it is into my writing and thought.

I am quick to realize that this is not the stuff of most dinner parties, not what I see in the news, and definitely not what I hear being bantered back-and-forth while in line at Starbucks.

What if it were? What if this WAS the conversation we had – women together, women with men, even men together?

What if we were consumed with the painful history of womens’ dehumanization? What if we were determined to “track and retrieve fragments of lost wisdom and history?” What if we believed that this was crucial to “transforming thought and action” – which all of us know must happen? What if, indeed.

But we are not talking about it, not devoting our every waking moment to its promulgation, and definitely not losing sleep over it.

Understandably.

Our lives are busy. They are full. They overflow with struggle and frustration, celebration and joy. They are often overwhelmed with schedules and to-do’s and responsibilities. They are rich with friends and lovers and children. And they are subsumed by so much else, so many other messages that either elate or exhaust our souls.

So how and why would we take the time to talk of old stories, to find the threads of our own history as women, to somehow weave them back into our day-to-day lives?

I wish I knew.

Here’s what I do know, though:

If we do not, if we ostensibly forget from whence and from whom we came, we are destined to repeat the same patterns. The plight of women does not improve. The conversation does not change. The world does not transform. And I, for one, think all of these things need to happen.

To shine a spotlight on the censorship and dehumanization of women is the very thing that helps us – now, in this moment, in our day-to-day lives – understand why we think the way we do, why we feel the way we do, why we make the decisions we do (even when they are not the ones we want to make), why we often feel slightly crazy, why we struggle with ways to articulate our position or stance, why we are disconnected from our bodies, why we witness people in (hoped-for) power deny the harm they inflict and attempt to silence the brave women who name such anyway.

It’s hard: the work of remembering. We want to move on, move forward, make headway, not have to look back.

I get it.

I’m not all that crazy about having to remember my own story, in having to look back and honestly acknowledge the places in which I’ve known harm and perpetuated it against my very self (and others, to be sure). And yet, it is only when I do so, that I experience any kind of transformation and growth; it is only when I do so, that I am able to hold enough perspective and wisdom to make different choices today – not only for myself, though that is paramount, but also for my daughters, my family, my friends, my colleagues, my community.

If this is true for me, *just* one woman, how much more – all of us together?

Imagine this multiplied times the infinity of women’s stories – past, present, and future!

That image, that possibility, that future? That’s the one I want and the one we deserve.

I still wish I’d written these two sentences, but love that Elizabeth Johnson did. Hear them one more time; more, believe them.

Although women’s words have been censored or eliminated from much of [our] heritage, in the midst of the pain of dehumanization women have nevertheless always been there, in fidelity and struggle, in loving and caring, in outlawed movements, in prophecy and vision. Tracking and retrieving fragments of this lost wisdom and history, all in some way touchstones of what may yet be possible, enable them to be set free as resources for transforming thought and action.

May it be so.

A woman’s heart = experiencing God

Dec 9, 2015 | Hope & Encouragement, Spirituality, Women's Voice & Power, Women's Wisdom

From the beginning of time we have been asking questions about the Divine. The form, complexity, and context of the questions have changed as centuries have passed – influenced by our understanding (or lack thereof) of so many things: cosmology, philosophy, psychology, sociology, biology – but at the end of the day, year, generation, epoch, our inquiry remains essentially the same: Is there a God? And if so, how are we to understand
this God?

I hardly mean to make light of humanity’s quest – or even that of an individual – but what I know-that-I-know-that-I-know is that all it takes to solve any and all existential angst is to hang out with a woman.

I have the privilege of doing a lot of this – which, when I think of it, leaves me profoundly qualified to speak of God. (Bonus!!)

As I write this post, I am sitting in the airport awaiting my flight home after enjoying 5 days with one of the wisest, most beautiful, kind, and compassionate women on the planet. To call her friend takes my breath away. I stayed in her home, spent time with her family, ate her food, slept on her fold-out couch, kept her up way too late, and enjoyed a number of bottles of wine, spirits, and of course, champagne. It was fun, restful, encouraging, inspired, heart-overf;owing, grace-filled and above and beyond all else, just pure-and-endless love. It was, quite simply, divine. I did, quite clearly, experience the Divine.

So, want your own proof for the existence of God? Want to know how you are to understand this God? Yep. Hang out with a woman! The Divine will be revealed in and through her embrace, through the experience of being seen and heard and known by her, through the gift of time and conversation and hospitality and rest and most of all, her pure-and-endless-love.

And here’s even more definitive proof: When you show up and hang out with a woman, she becomes certain of God’s existence, as well – because of you. (Bonus!!!)

You can push me on this anyway to Sunday, as you please, but every bit of my experience, education, and expertise only validates what I know to be true:

It is only through our experience of love that we are certain of God’s existence. And love is experienced through a woman’s heart.

I know this is shocking, but it’s really that simple, that clear, that easy, that delightful.

Test this for yourself. Hang out with a woman. Pay attention to everything that is most true about your time together and apply these characteristics to the Divine. They won’t be wrong, I promise. Then take this one step further. Look in the mirror and revel in the fact that you reflect exactly the same!

All existential questions answered. All denominational strife solved. All religious wars settled. Every doubt soothed. Every hope realized. Every faith made real. God incarnate. In our midst. Relevant. Present. And right here. (Sounds a little reminiscent of the Christmas story, yes?) Yes.

‘Looking to experience God? Hang out with a woman. Yourself included. (Bonus!!)

Maybe it’s (not) only me

Sep 22, 2014 | Sovereignty, Women's Voice & Power

Maybe this sounds familiar:

You are in conversation with someone. As they are talking you hear another entire monologue – all within your head. All the words you’d never dare speak, the emotions you really feel, the you you wish you could reveal. It’s so loud you marvel that they cannot hear it, that they cannot hear you (and sometimes you’re even irritated that they can’t). You struggle to stay focused, to repress what keeps rising up, to silence the din. And, *sigh*, undoubtedly, you succeed. You keep your thoughts to yourself. You quiet down the ruckus within. You’re good at this. Highly practiced. On it.

Or maybe it is only me.

Maybe I’m the only one who has known this experience – over and over again. Maybe I’m the only one who, after a lifetime of this pattern, began to feel disingenuous and not really seen, heard, or known. Maybe I’m the only one who felt bone-weary almost every single day. Maybe I’m the only one who felt like she was living two completely different lives: the dangerous one hidden, the safe and acceptable one revealed.

Maybe it’s not only me.

Despite years of good, hard work and profound healing – the therapy, the spiritual direction, the long-and-into-the night conversations with dear friends – I feel something hauntingly familiar. A deep-seated fear that if I do or say what I actually think and feel all hell will surely break loose. A deep-seated belief that I am responsible for keeping myself and them together. A deep-seated pattern of denying
those voices instead of trusting them.

Here’s what I know – and because, maybe, just maybe, it applies to you – what I want you to know, as well:

I need to, deserve to, and must listen to those voices. That rumble and ever-increasing cacophony within isn’t something to ignore. And my renewed and endless efforts to silence it will not be abided.

It’s the sound of generations and generations of women in thunderous chant on my behalf. An army that rides in my honor and defense. A force no more tamable than wild horses. They call me to gorgeous strength. They imbue me with dauntless courage. They remind me that they know – without a shadow of a doubt – who I truly am. And they will not allow anything less of or for me, their daughter, their lineage, their kin.

They say this to me – and maybe even to you:

You do not deserve a life lived in shadow or even slightly restrained. It is not to be your destiny. Silence does not suit you. So rise up. Stand tall. Step forward. And speak. We’ve got your back.

Maybe it is only me. Or maybe not.

May it be so.

[Deep appreciation to Dinah and her story for connecting me to my own. Just one of the ancient, sacred narratives I so need and so love.]