The Lord's Prayer

The Lord’s prayer is such a complete and yet mysterious prayer. I feel trepidation even approaching such a lofty prayer, the sacred of sacred, personally handed to us by our Savior. Yet, billions of Christians feel drawn, rightly so, to this prayer that Christ gave us.I end my meditations and daily prayers with the Lord’s prayer. It feels complete and the perfect closing to end with each day. 

One thing I personally love about this prayer is that it speaks to so many levels and parts of our own being. Sometimes, I have envisioned it as going through the chakras, starting with the basic invitation to Our Father, who is so much greater than we are, and to whom we can express our reverence in His hallowed name.Then there is the giving up or emptying of our own being, handing our finite wisdom over to infinite wisdom — “Thy will be done”. 

There is the foundational place, or first chakra, of asking simply for our basic material needs, our daily bread. I feel the prayer moving into my mid section as I say “forgive us our tresspasses”. I liken this to the second chakra and third chakra, where action begins to come forth from our being. The mid center where when someone does trespass against us it is almost as “punch to the gut”. In these words we release that space in our being, to not hold onto our own volition, nor that which may confront us. 

Next I feel the prayer move to the heart — “Lead us not into temptation”. This feels like a heart examination: the heart can inform, and be pure in intention, and yet the same heart can twist, turn, and deceive when discernment is not carefully examined. Asking for aid here seems a good thing to do. Perhaps it is reassuring to know that we have help in this area that can be a trickster if we are not careful.

The next phrase “deliver us from evil” for me moves into my throat. I proclaim this powerful idea, and yet don’t know exactly what it means. What exactly is this evil? Is it different evils for different people, or one big category of evil to be avoided at all costs?

Next, the  prayer moves to my head, my mind, closer to the heavens as I declare boldly, “Thine is the power, the kingdom and glory forever and ever.” 

The prayer seems to move through the body, going from the earthly realms to the heavenly realms. What remains though is still a mystery. Trying to understand exactly how this deliverance takes place and what exactly happens in the realm of the unseen is beyond our reason, and yet we come back to this prayer in confidence, knowing its power even if understanding it fully remains hidden, as it were, in a veil. 

The Lord’s prayer almost contains the Christian experience within it. We ask in confidence knowing we will receive; we pray knowing we are heard. Still, exactly how these things happen remains unclear. Is it really that simple that we do the practice and we know the fruits? As with faith, this seems to be the formula: do now, understand later, not through the intellect but through the held experience. It is a beautiful and mysterious power this prayer holds. 

I know that different people have a different relationship to this prayer, but there is no doubt that people do have both a desire towards and a relationship with this prayer. Even the children rejoice in it as a prayer they can memorize fairly easily and recite in fellowship with other practitioners.

Just another perfect mystery from our Savior leading the way in perfection and speaking to the many through this one prayer — this prayer that unites in our beliefs and yet can be so deeply personal to the individual.

The Day After

Sitting outside, the day after. Nelly’s service was beautiful. Powerful and perfect. People were spiritually touched and moved. 

Remembering and celebrating  someone so special and all their myriad talents and facets brings us all into a communion of fellowship. As we celebrate one life, we are guided to Life itself.

We connect to Source, God, One. Reflecting on life and death and how it all flows continuously. The seasons change and return. We recognize the signs of the imminent changes. The feeling of snow right before it falls. The first crisp energizing energy of fall. The lazy summer days and the first signs of spring.

The indescribable essence we know and learn to call by name in order to understand more deeply.

The Perfect knowledge lies in the mystery and acceptance of the unknown. The surrender. The logical, rational mind will analyze, name and categorize so the greatness can be broken into bite-sized pieces to be digested. The food of the spirit which begins to fill and transform the profound, subtle aspects which guide and dictate so much of our lives.

The breath that leads to the center where no words lie.

The stillness where He resides and we meet him.

  

Religion Gone Awry

It seems my religious instinct was operating from an early age. I remember being curious and inquisitive about these things, asking my Christian grandmother her perspective. I befriended another little girl in the complex where my grandparents resided. Her name was Tammy, and she stayed with her auntie Ruth. They used to invite me to church with them and then we would go out for pancake breakfasts. I cherished those times and was a more-than willing participant. 

Jordan Peterson, Canadian  psychiatrist and scholar, says, "The religious instinct, not properly channeled, goes awry." This can happen to even the sincerest seekers, but I feel now in the world I see this happening in an unprecedented way. People who have outright rejected God and religion with a vengeance, have taken to moral high grounds and authoritarianism with the harshest of terms. Agree and adopt our value system, obey, or you are cancelled. We will go to extremes to publicly shame you, take away your vocation, and harass your family. 

One of the great ironies is that one of the complaints commonly voiced in regards to the rejection of God or religion is this perceived list of rules to which man must adhere and the judgements that follow. Of course, when understood properly, God's commands are not for Him. God needs nothing from us, and remains in a state of loving forgiveness, ready to receive us when we turn to Him. He truly desires our good. Our innate knowledge of those goods play out in our own conscience: when we follow God's commands, our best interest is at heart, and our highest potential can be achieved. We do not have to run and hide from our own being. Conversely, when we follow merely our own desires and emotions, things will inevitably turn out less than stellar. 

The mind is capable of justifying just about anything. It is almost astounding the level of self-deception a mind can create in order to maintain a sense of its own righteousness. The deeper parts of our being always knows the Truth and sees the lie. You can run, but you can never really hide. God knows and sees the deepest aspects of our heart and mind, and we know it too, even when we deny that very knowing.

We cherish our free will, and rightly so, but we have to aim to guide our freewill for our good. God's commands lead us to that place. Being fallen, we will fail, and fall. That is when we humble ourselves in repentance and aim once again to follow his will. We can have the assurance that even as we fail, we are loved, and worthy of love. We are asked to give up our lives, not for something worse, a prison of rules and judgements, rather for something better — the best version of ourselves, with a conscience that is not in hiding but in resting, resting in humble submission to that which is truly right and good. 

As I reflect on my journey I realize a pitfall in which I fell and see many Christians fall. Jesus was compassion and mercy, humble in all things. He was not too proud to fall to his knees and wash his disciples feet, the same disciples who often misunderstood his teachings and ultimately betrayed him.

One thing Jesus was not, was overly passive or fearful. As he was perfect Love, fear was cast out. He was  indeed the Prince of Peace, but not in exchange for the forsaking of Truth. I think for a long time I sought to be peaceful at all costs, to always try to choose the path of love, mercy and forgiveness. Of course, I failed time and again. More recently, I realized my aim was awry. In the end these behaviors often led to feelings of being under appreciated, misunderstood, or downright used and abused. In my mind I couched these behaviors as somehow being the moral/spiritual high ground. The truth is more complex, as is usually the case. Yes, these are good things in and of themselves, absolutely things we are called to aim for, but not only. These ideas were safe and comforting, did not ruffle any feathers....until they did, usually after the fact, when I dealt with the backlash of undesirable feelings. Then I would wrestle with the feelings, trying to eradicate them with forgiveness for the other. Anyone who has tried to forgive knows it is a process, sometimes a very long one. We think we have forgiven, only to be brutally reminded in a moment of triggering how little we have actually forgiven.

The world is not a peaceful place. It is filled with the worst manner of sin — lies, deceptions, jealousy, anger, hatred, greed...the list goes on. What I was not exercising by facing the world in these holier-than-thou approaches of peace-at-all-costs, was my own fear. Fear of rejection, fear of not being liked, fear of "stirring the pot", fear of sitting in uncomfortable emotions, my own or another's. I was not able to trust the process of being honest in truth and knowing that was enough. The end result was I was denying Jesus in his fullness and denying myself.

The Truth hurts. The Truth pierces like a two edged sword. Sometimes not speaking in truth to avoid conflict or an unpleasant situation can cause much greater harm and demise in the long run. Jesus did not needlessly rebel against society or hierarchal structures to gain attention or tear something down. He did not act this way in an addictive adrenaline rush from the exhilaration of conflict. He did so in Truth. He was not afraid to show the Pharisees their hypocrisy or to overturn the money changers in the temple for making the house of the Lord a den of thieves. He spoke and acted both in Truth and courage as well as mercy and compassion. Ultimately his Truth was too much for people to handle, and it sealed  his fate. Even so, he was not afraid to live out his purpose. Every action in his life was in submission to God's sovereign plan and will. His Truth in action led to influence and saved untold numbers of people and continues to do so two thousand plus years later. 

All of our daily interactions and decisions take discernment, but now I feel a new sense of resolve in 2022. I will no longer walk in fear. I will speak the Truth where I am able and walk simultaneously in Love and mercy. I will no longer sacrifice one for the other. The price to pay is too high, it is sacrificing  the fullness of ones own soul.

The culture in the world right now is a testament to its own circular demise. The modern social fabric based outside of God's laws are rooted in a house divided. A house divided can not stand.

Personality Versus Purpose

On Tuesday night I have a book club with a group of women from my church. Our new book has  sparked a lot of “triggering”. Even before having read the first chapter, the leader of our group (who also happens to be our rector's wife) reached out to the group. She had just finished reading the first chapter and let everyone know that she felt it might come across as a bit antiquated, but after some reflection came to the conclusion that despite that observation, the author was a wise elder and we should aim  to uncover what she has to offer. 

I tended to agree with the group leader in some measure for sentences like,“You can bring home the bacon, fry it up in a pan, but don’t forget to wash the pan”. This sentence was in regards to being a “supernatural” woman as in Proverbs 31. Do we  really have to be supernatural, I mean isn’t being natural enough? I tried to ignore the blatant “well that seems a bit much” feeling and attempted to wrap my  mind around a reasonable metaphor. 

After a little thought it came to—maybe she means to say: it is great to go out, have a job, bring home the benefits of that job to share with your family,  but the pan represents the foundation, and you don’t want to neglect the foundation. That seemed satisfying enough to me for the time being. 

Once we were in our group one person mentioned that although the Proverbs 31 woman worked and was a woman of great virtue, she  likely had maid servants also who not only would help with the meal, but certainly with the  clean-up. It was a good point and something I had not thought about. 

Another part of the  chapter that seemed to catch people was a reference to Esther being perfectly prepared and presentable for King Xerxes. Being that he already proved he was both prideful and lecherous by asking his former wife, Vashti, to parade in front of his taxpayer funded party lasting 180  days, he seemed an unlikely representation of God and certainly not worthy of such willful  subservience from Esther. One girl was bothered by her being “presentable”. As if being  presentable is important to God, she went on to talk about Jesus going to the poor, the lepers  and so on. 

As these concerns and questions went on, I actually thought this book and this woman’s writing is such a gift, because even in people’s rejection of her words or representation of ideas, she is sparking controversy and conversation which is driving people to think and dig deeper. 

As I was walking the next day I thought about the story of Rachel, Leah and Jacob. I had  listened to a wonderful Tim Keller sermon on this story. Even though Leah’s behavior towards  Jacob was that of a devoted wife, her failing is that she was looking for her primary satisfaction  in life through her husband and his attentions. She was trying to please him in order to be  loved, instead of rightly ordering her primary devotion to God. 

This made me start thinking about Esther and her comportment towards the King. If he had been the good, benevolent King, it would be easy to understand her willingness to please. But the fact that he was undeserving or unworthy illuminates even more her willingness to follow God's will  and also an understanding of God’s purpose for her. 

I have thought often about purpose (my own) and the broader question of the purpose of a given human life in general. This conversation though sparked the  comparison of personality versus purpose in my mind. It seems that most people spend a great deal of  time and energy on personality. It may come in the form of one’s own personality, the kind of self-examination that is constantly judging and analyzing — this is good, this is not so good. This is my parents, siblings, bosses, x-boyfriends….(the list goes on), fault. Or looking at others and having these same kinds of thoughts. 

There is nothing wrong with any of that, and if you are an  actress it can be a very useful part to understand the way another person works, what makes  them tick so to speak. But beyond that there is a place where this kind of approach becomes circular and endless. It seems one can explore the depth of one's personality or that of the  other ad infinitum. The mind also has an uncanny ability to look at one's own personality and  trick itself into exaggerating the good and perhaps justifying the not-so-good—conversely, exaggerating the bad and downplaying the good. At any rate one can never be objective about one's own personality and can never fully grasp the total complexity of another’s personality, hence the ad infinitum. 

It seems there is a valuable lesson here. Maybe focusing a little less on personality—be it one's own or someone else’s‚—and focusing more on purpose. Esther knew her  purpose and did not let the King's personality change that. If we approach life knowing we have  a purpose, that nothing is by chance, then suddenly personality matters a whole lot less. Those  people we find “ difficult “ are in our lives for a reason. It is not our job, per se, to “figure them  out”; it is our job to love them. It is not our duty to have a perfect personality, merely to do our  best, which may vary greatly from day to day or even moment to moment. 

I used to feel a bit of  underlying anxiety about purpose. Yes, I have worked hard in my field of interest and dedicated my life to many things I enjoyed and desired. My life is filled with blessing, but am I really  fulfilling my purpose? Am I supposed to be doing more in this area or that? Then I had a very  helpful teacher and mentor give me advice that completely lifted that burden. She said, ‘you do your spiritual practice daily, that is your duty, your purpose. The rest will fall into place from there.’ In other words my job was to come to Him earnestly, daily and He will guide me. I will  have done my part, and He does the rest. Then every situation that follows and that I encounter is in fact my purpose, guided by His sovereign will. 

So I do my work and leave the rest in His hands. All the personalities are just what they are, but  theirs or mine will always be secondary to our purpose.

The In-Between Places

Being on a spiritual path is a process. Some landmarks stick in the mind as particularly significant. Certainly a pivotal moment is when conversion takes place. For some this is dramatic, while for others it seems to have crept in almost unnoticed. However one arrives, there are those moments, conversations, words, that change what was into what is, and life will no longer have the same trajectory. A life lived in the world with tasks and goals, although still in operation, takes place with a new backdrop. You are no longer your own entity (you never really were) but now it is apparent. The primary devotion in one's life and guiding principles now lie in something much greater than the individual. Now those priorities lie in the hands of the Most High, the Lord himself. We offer our whole selves, and he uplifts us.

Then there is the mundane, the ups and downs of life and humours. Some days, spiritual practice might feel more like rote than inspired. Yet it still brings something, however subtle, that is worthy of coming back to again and again. Somehow the more one comes back, the deeper one goes.

I have been thinking a lot about the in-between places. When one reads the Ten Commandments or Proverbs, it is quite obvious what is being asked and the subsequent warnings of disobedience. Yet life is never quite that straightforward; we know what we should do and don’t and know what we shouldn’t do and do. So in our fallen human nature, there we find ourselves from time to time. 

Then there are those times where we have to wonder what exactly matters most. Jesus shows us that the true master is a servant. We are to love our neighbors as ourselves.Hmm, loving myself feels awfully hard at times, especially when I fall into the slippery places of knowing and doing anyway, or not doing and thinking maybe I should be doing this or that.

Modern psychology has coined the idea “you cannot love another, if you do not love yourself”. Admittedly, there is some truth to that, but I am not sure how functional that kind of logic is.

It seems we have figured out all kinds of affirmations to say: ‘I am beautiful as I am’, or ‘I am smart, strong, capable’. The list goes on. We can put days aside to specifically pamper ourselves with self love and care. Now all of these things may indeed have something to offer in and of themselves. 

I am the first to admit, despite a rather tight budget in general, one thing I enjoy doing is having my nails done. I enjoy the relaxing massage chairs. The pretty results and the practical aspect of not having to deal with fingers or toes for four to six weeks. But at the end of the day, do any of these things actually make me love myself more and therefore make me better at loving my neighbor? I am not convinced. Once again, I think Christ gives us the answer in that non-worldly upside down way. Christ the Lord of the universe fell down on his knees and washed his disciples feet. Maybe when we love those around us by serving them, the very act of serving the other is precisely what pulls us out of our own inner focus on ourselves and actually allows us to properly love ourselves?

The other day I was at the pool and I was meditating. I had my prayer beads and was doing my mala japa (repeating prayers with the beads). My eyes were closed and my legs in a cross-legged position. It was pretty clear I was engaged. An older gentleman got in the pool and addressed me — “it’s cold”. I politely acknowledged him with a head nod and smile and went back into meditating. However, he persisted and started addressing me again. In that moment I was struggling with, ‘do I finish my meditation or allow this person to engage me?’ I went with the latter and he made small talk for a bit, then as the conversation subsided naturally he said,“I will let you go back to what you were doing”.

It was not until a little later that I felt irritated. I had given this older gentleman the benefit of the doubt that maybe he didn’t realize I was busy. I thought, ‘well, maybe in his mind the pool is a place for social interaction and that was just par for the course’. Shortly after our conversation I noticed he had installed himself next to the bar and was talking with the person working there. Clearly he wanted to connect with people. 

I probably spent way too much time thinking about these things, but it seemed to me one of those in-between places. On the one hand that person, that situation in some measure, was all part of God’s plan. I chose in the moment to be empathetic and compassionate to this strangers' needs/desire”. Afterwards though I could not help but feel he had been disrespectful. He knew I was engaged in some measure and chose to ignore my “needs/desire” because at least to him, his were more important. So there we find ourselves, in the in-between place. I give up myself for you, but part of me feels angry that the other was not honoring. In an instant one is deciding offering compassion and empathy, and giving up for the other, or honoring what is important to me and a meaningful part of my day. 

In the end we all make these little choices with consequences all the time. We want to do what’s right and good and at the same time we don’t want to throw pearls to swine. The in-between places. This whole pool story in the grand scheme of things is of little significance, except for the mind commotion it created. The reminder of the dualities that pull us from those blissful moments of communion. It did bring me back to a giving up of ourselves and our own desires. We are called to that, but it’s not always so obvious in any given moment what that means. When we do give up of ourselves are we able to trustfully surrender to the process and not hold onto the parts of ourselves that say ‘wait, what about me?’. There is a wrestling with our own being, and that is all part of the walk and the process. 

I listened to a meditation lecture and practice by a true master the other day. In fact I had listened to it a year earlier and gleaned a great deal, and the second time was no different in finding it very beneficial. One thing he said though seemed to really strike me in a new way this time. He said that the places that catch us up are often the places where we are or have been wounded. I thought about this in terms of my pool story and it made so much sense. This area is an area of wounding, a belief system I carry from my story. Whether rooted  in reality or my mind, the experience remains the same. The story is that most men are not respectful and honoring, and they push boundaries even when there has been clear communication. Without this already-accepted idea on some level in my consciousness, I would not have had the “after reaction” of feeling upset. I likely would have had the little exchange, and just simply gone back to what I was doing or not. No thought/ feeling wrestling, just a momentary letting go of my will to God's sovereign plan in action.

It is not always easy to love and serve the other and give up ourselves.  It is, however, our calling and what he did do for us. If we want to live in Grace,mercy, and forgiveness, then we must offer those things back to the world all the while aiming to continue to die to those little wounded parts of our souls that want to pull us out of truth.

Where the Lord Is Satan Is Too

Where the Lord is Satan is too. Kind of a striking sentence, but true nonetheless. I have been wrestling with this “conceptual thought-idea '' for over a week or so. This thought came up casually in a conversation in the kitchen. It is funny how so many profundities of life start in the kitchen. Reminds me of how every party seems to end up there. Maybe something in our subconscious feels nourished there, which allows us to express ourselves emotionally with more ease and thus enables creative exploration? 

There seems to be this synergy that I have noticed off and on for years. Sometimes those around me notice it too. Where a specific topic or idea becomes part of the present moment conversation and situation at hand. Then the following Sunday at church the reading and the sermon are spot on in relation to that very present moment dynamic in your own life. God is speaking to you through the verse and pulpit and people in your life. Sovereign Providence. So the conversation in the kitchen started with me bringing up that thought, and Calvin and I having a conversation. The next Sunday the reading was from St. Paul’s letter to the Ephesians 6:10-20. 

One does not in general think about Satan being where the Lord is, but they do have the famous direct confrontation on the mount. As for devils and demons, he does confront them often enough in people. The question is what are these devils, these demons? Who is this Satan that the Lord must wrestle with, even though he is already defeated. How does that even work? My understanding of Satan and his mode of operation is that he seems to be empowered only on the earthly plane and in regards to earthly concerns. That is not to diminish that struggle, because those earthly choices do have profound spiritual consequences. People often use the expression “ I have been fighting my demons”. To me this always sounds past tense. My guilt and shame are haunting me for what a bad person I was, or the way I behaved, what I said or didn’t say. Yet, His grace says that is a lie, for all is forgiven. It is as though the lie itself is past tense. The battle has already been conquered and won. 

In Christ’s confrontation on the mountain with the human temptations of power, or the satisfaction of all earthly desires, the battle is already won. And yet there he is in his completeness (fully God and fully man) facing the devil himself and battling it out. Christ abides the will of his Father unto the end. He was tempted and sorrowed as we are and do. So how does this God-man work, and what does it mean for us and for our demons? It appears as though when we face these unseemly spiritual creatures the first course of action might be to acknowledge that although they feel real, that ultimately they are lies. The lies are only illusions that we are believing to be real. Coming back to the Lord reveals the truth and casts these invaders out. 

He says we are loved and worthy of His love. Grace is available in an instant, but we have to let go and let God. Coming back to Him again and again reminds us of the truth that we know, but so easily forget. The battle has already been won, so we don’t need to fight, only to remember. Maybe the Lord has this direct confrontation on the mountain so it can act as a reminder that the Lord not only has the power to overcome, yet has already done so for us. We are asked to step outside of space time into the eternal. 

The past is of no matter and the future will come in due time. Be with the Lord in the present moment and bask in the Glory of his presence to strengthen, persevere and discern between eternal truth and temporal lies, deceptions and distractions. In Him all things are possible. He

cast out demons, devils and defeated Satan then and does so today also. The battle is over and already won. 

In the passage Paul talks about the enemy not being against flesh and blood but rather about rulers and principalities. This is a very wonderful statement.  We spend so much time reeling in one way or another at our fellow man. Sometimes in anger, sorrow, disbelief, frustration — the list goes on. We spin our wheels with revenge scenarios, hoping that divine Providence will sweep in with perfect righteousness to save the day. The cosmic superhero fixing all that is awry. The passage is such a great reminder of the power in these forces is that they may reside in one's conscious or unconscious mind, or come as a projection of mind onto the other, but they are not in fact the individual themselves. It is something real in that it exists and that we do deal with these forces, but not so real that their abstract illusory manner has any holding power in the unchanging reality of eternal truth. I liken them to winds that are darkly hued and stir up storms. 

I once watched this documentary on demon possession. There was an Italian woman who had become possessed and would go into trance like states of “satanic” behavior in voice, words, and bodily thrashing. Apparently she had led a normal life before this possession. She and her family sought out a priest who specialized in exorcising these types of demons from people. He was considered to be extremely holy and had led a reverent life. Even other priests in the area refused this kind of “dangerous” work and would refer people to this particular priest. Make what you will of the story, but it seemed authentic to me when I watched the film. 

The most fascinating part though was the way this holy man dealt with the devil himself, and this demon. It was not by yelling, harsh words or force, it was with mockery. He began the exorcism by calling in God, in Jesus name for protection, many prayers and asking for guidance. But then he would address the evil spirit directly. He would put his thumb to his nose while waving his other fingers back and forth, like a child saying ‘na na ni boo boo’. He did not treat the spirit with fear, respect, or placating. No, he teased it like a child as if to say, ‘I know your tricks you silly being, now stop pretending like you have power and submit to the One who truly is powerful and stronger than you. You are defeated, now leave this poor woman alone.’

So may we remember these good lessons to love our neighbors and pay the darkness no mind. To return to the Lord whose work is done, yet still actively, presently working in our own lives, both reminding us of the truth and protecting from the darkness.

Mamie

Mamie is my 99.5 year-old grandmother. We recently had a very special visit in Argentière, France — the mountain town just outside Chamonix. From the apartment one has a glorious view of Mont Blanc. It is always special to spend sacred time with an elder, but this visit felt especially so. There could be a number of reasons attributed. Last year we were unable to visit because of Covid. This year I got to witness the introduction of my brother's wife to her for the very first time. This is something we did not know would be possible, and there we were.

But still, there was something else, something more. A few years prior, I remember visiting when many of us thought it would be the last. At that time her pacemaker battery needed to be changed (although technically it should not have needed to be yet). She was holding 40 lbs of excess water weight, which was literally seeping out of her skin. That year I saw her in the hospital where they were working hard to drain the excess liquid before the operation. She seemed so weak and tired. I would go sit with her as she dozed then woke, and sometimes tears would fall down my cheeks. Tears of unknowing, tears of fearing.

Leaving that year I still felt uncertain. Another year came, and she was fine. Then another year, and there is Covid—and she is positive … but asymptomatic, phew. Then this year, there she was—smiling and standing strong with her toothless grin. She lost a few front teeth since the last time I had seen her. Somehow this loss of teeth had a beautiful charm when paired with her graceful smile. It seemed to bring out a child-like lightness.

An especially endearing moment happened when Soren (whose love of chocolate is no secret) was sneaking his finger in the open Nutella jar while waiting for his crepe. Mamie caught wind of the fun and began digging in too! The cutest scene — watching Mamie and Soren sneak chocolate together, and after each sneak looking at each other giggling, hardly aware that Mommy was taking it all in, all the while feigning obliviousness. 

Mamie, who cared so much for her svelte Parisian figure. She was queen of the castle.Creating exquisite meals and fine drink for anyone who came into her home. Such a conscientious hostess, she noted in her journals to whom she served what, so as never to insult one by offering the same meal twice. Such thoughtfulness and care were just a natural part of her humble character. She did all this selfless service in custom made outfits for her strong, slithe figure. She worked out daily and took care to never overindulge. She was a model of perfection. 

Here she was, a plump great grandmother, not thinking for a moment on calories or form. Giggling joyously with abandon as she enjoyed Nutella with her little, like-minded friend. I looked at her then, always with admiration. I look now and see all that and more. She is Venus of Willendorf, the archetypal woman in all her glory. Mother, maiden, crone, and child all in one.

There were other times in the apartment that were not so joyous. Moments where she would gaze longingly out at the mountain top. Tears would roll down her cheeks. Tears of unknowing … tears of fearing? She talked about being so old, all her friends were gone, her husband too. She wondered what it all meant. Why was she here and not there? I tried to cheer with the usual “how nice is it that you are here with us, your daughter, grandchildren and great grandchildren”. What a glorious tree you have created, nurtured, and which will continue to grow. These tears however ran deep, deeper than I might understand.Reflection  from the depth of her being which needed thought and healing tears, no matter how late the date.

She developed an interesting habit or tic in her old age. She continuously rubs the top of her head, gently. A few years back that spot lost all its hair. We tried to put a scarf on, or remind her, but the habit persisted. This year something was different, the hair had grown back. Somehow this feels hopeful. As I watch her gently rub the top of her head, sometimes with her childish grin and at others with her melancholic gaze, I ponder. It is as if she is massaging her crown chakra, the one known as “the bridge to the cosmos”. Interesting. 

I also think about babies and how much we love to touch and rub their heads, feeling their little soft spots and kissing them ever so gently in this endearing yet fragile expression of their beings. Is she mothering her own spirit, preparing it for the next phase? Completing goodbyes, finding forgiveness, letting go of what was and basking in what is. I wish she would never go, of course. If fate would have it she will be here for many years to come. She is my heart, my life line, my inspiration. At some of the darkest places in my life she was my light. I find gratitude in her existence, her light, what a beautiful and precious gift this, Mamie of mine.

Boundaries and Priorities

It seems to me it would be better if — instead of an introduction which might typically go something like: 

“Hi I am so and so . . .”, and in response, 

“Hi so and so, I am so and so . . .”, followed by, 

“What do you do for a living?”, 

— we started by introducing our names, and then followed by our respective priorities and boundaries for a given topic. Most people have very distinct priorities and generally where this treasure is, so lies their hearts. For some people this might be their children, spouse or family in general. For others, maybe their career, personal passion, political cause etc. 

Knowing the heart is fragile and something to be dealt with care, maybe once we acquire the understanding of where their hearts lie, we tread lightly. Perhaps we do not tread at all and merely allow the space for the other to elaborate or express this arena freely. Not adding or judging just allowing. Then if we wanted to approach any given subject we might say,”What are your boundaries in regards to such and such?” Then right up front we could respond with, “Oh ok, my boundaries are this”, then we could allow people to see it is just a boundary and not a personal affront or insult.

I am reminded of a recent visit with a sister-in-law. She is single and is on some on-line dating sites. We proceeded to talk about encounters, success in this area etc.

She then mentioned coming across someone in a triangle (three-person relationship). She proceeded to say how this just seemed off and wrong, maybe unnatural, that there were most likely other issues that are underlying when people were comfortable engaging in these types of relationships. 

Later that evening a different conversation came up, this was in regards to her parents non-acceptance of unmarried couples having intimate relations, particularly under their roof. She was both furious and disgusted with this idea and expressed herself quite clearly on the matter of her disapproval. 

I thought to myself, isn’t it funny that she herself can have such a clear boundary in the realm of sexual expression, but her parents having a different boundary—albeit essentially both boundaries—could exude such a reaction. 

I am sure she was completely unaware of the complete acceptance of a boundary in her own esteem and the total rejection of another boundary in the same realm. I was not there to point it out to her, but it struck me as curious nonetheless. If subjects were approached in a neutral manner, and any boundary in and of itself—is acceptable and does not have to correspond with the others boundaries, so many needless confrontations, animosities, relationship ruptures could be avoided. 

The key seems to be a spirit of humility. Ascribing themselves to what one knows, or at least feels to be genuinely good and right, all the while maintaining that they do not necessarily know what is good and right for any given person at any given time. Sometimes entering strongly into a “wrong” can lead one to a convicted right and good. So the question remains was it truly a wrong, or maybe just a step on the pathway to something better?

Is outside imposition really effective or does true transformation begin from the deepest recesses of our own being? I think about this a lot. My thought is that both are important. Sometimes that outside push and using the will towards good in turn transforms the spirit. Other times quiet reflection and allowing a process to unfold bring about a real, but subtle and gentle shift. God helps those who help themselves, and yet all true transformation is the work of the Holy Spirit. 

Life is complex and beautiful, people are complex and beautiful too. Too often something simple is made complex with out reason, causing unnecessary pain and strife. Christ leads by example. Sensitivity to the subtle and humility go a long way both in bringing us closer to Him and being able to truly love our fellow man.

A Beautiful Moment

After a bit of a grueling journey abroad, two changes, several layovers (one lasting 4.5 hours), we made it. We landed in Switzerland safe, sound and sleepy. My mother picked us up in her rental car and we began the hour and a half ride to the apartment in the Alps. We were headed to my grandparents apartment, filled with childhood memories from my youngest years. As we curved around the mountain sides careening in and out, I gazed out the window. It hit me. The absolute majestic perfection of God’s handy work, found in the gaze of the smallest flower or in this case the awe striking magnitude of His mountains. The sunlight hit the snow capped tips as the rays streamed through the peaceful, gently moving clouds. The green of the trees and the brown stone made the most complete palette of colors. God’s divine providence swept through my entire being. Everything in the world felt right at that moment. Those rare moments suspended in time, where everything and everyone makes sense in the broader story of your life. This is about me and P. 

I guess a bit of history is needed to come to the present, so I will start with a process to the now. I adore singing, the arts and the path I have taken, the accolades I have received, and also very precious moments, like the time a gentleman came up after a concert where I sang Pamina’s aria. It is an extremely challenging piece to do well. It is a piece I had worked on off and on again for years, probably a good fifteen! He said it was the most perfect and beautiful rendition he had ever heard, better than the Met! He said I was meant to sing Mozart, which rang true to the words of one of my dearest mentors and teachers. This was not a newspaper headline or being recognized from a television show as had happened in Paris years earlier, but it meant the world to me. It was a moment where I knew I had conquered the task, and even if only one person in the world recognized it, that was enough to fill my spirit with a sense of joy and accomplishment. 

All that being said, it pales in comparison to the joy, excitement and energy I feel when I watch P in his element — the climbing gym. When he makes a hard route he has been working on, it is the joy I felt singing, times twenty. We give our bodies to our children, our blood, sweat and tears. We face our own demons and wrestle with impatience, frustration and anger. We are forced to exercise the fruits of the Spirit. God is not mistaken in saying children are a blessing. Not just for the joy they give us, but for all the hard times too. They help us to become better versions of ourselves. What a gift!

It took me a while to help P find his niche. I knew he had to move — a lot. I tried gymnastics, modern dance, Tae Kwon Do, healthy kids running series, all to no avail. Nothing seemed to stick. I had almost given up hope when it occurred to me that he was constantly climbing trees. I remember a church picnic where a concerned parishioner came up to me and said, “Is it ok for him to be up there?” Busy eating my pasta salad, I turned to see where she was pointing and what her concern might be. Lo and behold, there was P at a daunting height at the top of the tree. I just about choked on a pepper as my stomach filled with butterflies. I asked in my most calm, Academy-Awards-winning voice for him to come down immediately. Perhaps that is when it dawned on me that maybe climbing was his thing. I took him to a climbing gym, signed him up for “First accents”, and that was it. He found his passion.

Growing up I often had the feeling that I did not quite fit in my family in a certain way. When we would go to the Alps in the summer and climb mountains, I felt it was hard. I was tired, and everyone else seemed to relish these physical challenges. I looked forward to tea and cookies. When we came to ski in winters, I always had to muster up the courage. Apparently I came home crying when I received my first star (premiere etoile) from the ski school. What should have been a happy moment of accomplishing the grueling task of beginner skiing, I had wet my snowsuit. I remember my brother leading me into treacherous zones and falling in powdered snow with tears of frustration and fear running down my cheeks. I remember receiving the message (directly or inferred) that I was not strong enough, not fit enough. I liked eating too much, and not moving enough. I would have preferred to watch a good Shirley Temple movie with a cup of hot chocolate, or listen to Dolly Parton and sing along. Why was I here, and why did everyone around me seem to flourish in an environment that felt too hard and no fun? 

Over the years my skills improved, and perhaps I strengthened my weaknesses, but those feelings never went away completely. I remember a time even in recent years being at the apartment in the Alps and having brought a keyboard. All of my cousins kept numerous items in “the cave” (cellar). There were skis and boots, snowboards, hiking boots, etc. But when I wanted to leave my keyboard there, it was met by my grandfather with abject rejection. It felt personal. Sporting was good, music was less-than. It fed right into my deep sense of failure in the areas I had been placed.

Many years later, here I was staring at the beauty of this most perfect place, and I felt peace. Total, complete, perfect peace. It wasn’t about me, it never had been. It was about P. How could it be that my dear first born—whose biggest passion in life is climbing—was going to be spending time in one of the best climbing areas in the world? Divine Providence. It is a beautiful moment when you feel so fully absorbed in something other than oneself. The giving up of one's life is so much better. Christ is never mistaken. 

There was a period of time when I did find a niche in my “sporty” family. Seems I was a natural swimmer. When I happened to fall into the water at the age of two, my father paused for just a moment. He was just about to jump in the water when he saw me begin to doggy paddle and stay afloat. I guess my baby fat finally came in handy, and swimming seemed to be the one sport in which I was naturally gifted. I worked hard for many years and even got some double A times in the USAA ratings. Butterfly was my thing. I swam summers and winters, day in and day out, several hours a day and meets on weekends. 

When I was about thirteen I noticed the girls around me were growing taller and getting stronger. I was 5’2, and it seemed that is where I was topping out. Being the logical person I am, it became clear to me that the odds were stacking against me, and in all honesty, I was burnt out. I quit overnight and did not swim another lap in a pool for many years. I had the thought, recently seeing my P so passionate and devoting so much of his being to climbing, and I wondered if a similar scenario would ensue. However, as I learn about climbing through him and grow in my understanding of rules and terminology, techniques and strategies, I understand that there are advantages to being taller and other advantages to being smaller. Climbing seems to be a sport that has equanimity woven into it’s very fabric. 

The other thing that I have seen in this sport is something so unique to the competitive nature of the sports I grew up around—the dog-eat-dog-winning-at-all-costs mentality seems to be nonexistent. The camaraderie and support I see at the gym where P climbs is beautiful to witness. Everyone seems to cheer on, inspire, mentor and comfort each other . It reminds me of a most touching moment in the Dawn Wall film that brings tears to my eyes each time I think about it. Tommy Caldwell and Kevin Jorgenson spent years training together to climb the dawn well. At the top of the wall, very close to the end, Tommy made the next steps and could have easily gone to the  top. Instead, he stayed where he was and waited. He said he would not feel any joy without his friend Kevin accomplishing it with him. He said when he got to that point, conquering his personal best, all he felt was sadness seeing his friend left behind. So he sat and he waited. In the end Kevin made it too, and the happy ending was a glorious one. In what I have witnessed, this is the mentality of the climbing world, and it is a beautiful thing.

A few days later (when P dragged his favorite uncle Ianny into town to visit the climbing store to peruse the ropes, clips, backpacks, chalk bags and shoes) a conversation began. The store clerk engaged them and asked if they liked to climb. Turns out the World Cup climbing competition was the next three days in Chamonix, right where we were!! Divine providence is quite something, enough to knock you off your feet in those moments of clarity where God’s long term vision heals every tear.