2017

The elegant elephant joined the scene today,

her wooden flanks reflected the morning sun.

Yesterday saw the arrival of The Three Graces,

their beauty enhanced by the ease in their bodies.

Each day a new guest: Buddha, a blue heart, a candle…

and so it shall be as this Advent unfolds.

Dear Friends,

I’m trying something new this Advent season. I’m creating my own nativity scene with figures and symbols that are tucked away in our house. The Three Graces is a statue passed on from my mother-in-law, a light is shining through Corinne’s dragonfly candle holder. Each comes to the table to await the birth of Love, each opens my heart in new places as I wait with them.

My intent, as I sit with the scene each morning, is to allow the next choice to emerge from my prayer. I trust the quiet space before me, I’m having “tea with the dawn.”* I resist the voice that tells me I must set up the nativity as I always have. I’m changing and so is my prayer in this holy season of Advent.

Shepherds, sheep, wise men and camels searched for the Light of Christ throughout time. Their journeys to the stable, year after year, showed me the way so that I too can kneel before Love’s arrival. Some came with gifts, all came with wonder, what do I bring on the path to Bethlehem?

My nontraditional nativity allows me to respond to that question with real answers. The carved elephant carries the weight of concerns and fears that I’ve kept to myself. The Three Graces share their loveliness as I wish to share mine, with grace and humility. The Buddha honors the Divine in you and I, while joining in this time of expectation. Each day a new guest will arrive at this crossroads of faith and a new part of my story will open up to the promise of Love being born, once again.

until next time, Lisa

* the image is a gift from Macrina Wiederkehr’s “Prayer of the Teacup”

O when the saints, go marching in,

O when the saints go marching in,

Lord I want to be in that number, when the saints go marching in!

Dear Friends,

I’m a “small s saint.” There, I’ve said it. Out loud. I’m a “small s saint!” And so are you and you and you! I know there are “ Big S Saints” out there. “Big S Saints” share their light without hesitation or restriction. But I’m just a normal human – filled with fears, flaws and resistance, my light is “in-training.”

But I have a light. And so do you. Somewhere in each of us is a glint of light, an essence of hope, a shimmer of mercy. I experience it in others all the time, I bet you do, too. Think of that person who waved you into the shorter line at the grocery store. Or a friend who listened to your story. Or that infant that melted your heart. You encountered another soul who was willing to be present to your soul…you connected.

For me, these heart-felt connections are evidence of Divine Love that resides within each of us. Love that extends beyond my limited capacity, to something more. Love that lifts me up when I’m down, gives me courage when I’m afraid. Love that heals the wounds I have carried. Love that transforms my eager heart into its adorable “small s saint”ly self. For some amazing and grace-filled reason, I said, “Yes!” I will be that saint I’ve been called to be! No one else can shine my light for me. My light, like yours, like every human being on the planet, is unique and invaluable.

Join me, my friends, and claim the light you were born with! Let your light shine in the world around you! Let it’s warmth touch those you love and those you barely know. Your light, in its shining singularity, will nurture hope, bring comfort, ease another’s fears. Together, our lights can create into something beautiful!

Let your “small s saint”ly self join the parade as we go “marching in” together!

love to you on this first day of November,

Lisa

Dear Friends,

I was all set to write a Glimmer about “change” this month…

and then I read the news

I was preparing to pray about the changes around me..noisy construction down the street, the insistence of fall’s arrival, the rhythm of family life…

and then I saw the video

Maybe on another day I can write about the changing season and its lessons for me, but not today. Today, I stand before the truth of tragedy after tragedy, grieve for so many, and carry their pain in my prayer. Our collective grief, like change, asks me to adapt to reality. Our collective grief leads us all into an experience of Loss – where our own stories return to mind, where horrific images break our hearts, where we go numb in response to it all.

I tried to go on with my life, yesterday – attended a meeting, did my work out, sat at the computer – just behaving like it’s any other day.  It didn’t work. Impatience and irritability popped up and reminded me to pay attention. The losses in Las Vegas and Puerto Rico cannot be ignored. The images of Florida and Houston’s devastation are of my brothers and sisters on this planet, as are the pictures from around the world.

I seek to live a conscious, prayerful  life. I seek to open my heart to each moment, to make space for something greater than myself, to listen for Love. I feel so inadequate in the face of such pain, yet here is where Love is needed most of all. I’m going to church today – my faith tradition leads me to a place of surrender. I will open my hands and ask the God of my understanding to hold all of those hurting people. Please join me – at your church or temple, in your hearts and bodies, at the edge of the sea or along a wooded path – wherever you are in touch with Mystery. Join me, friends, as we hold onto Love on behalf of our sisters and brothers, on behalf of our own aching hearts.

peace be with you,

Lisa

Dear Friends,

Spider arrived today. I shouldn’t be surprised, she makes a home both inside and outside of our little lake house. It’s a spider-friendly environment. But when she walked into my life this time, I was cleaning a kitchen drawer…I was in a process of sorting.

Although I resist regular cleaning tasks, I find myself enjoying the process of sorting. Is the ginger still fresh? Do I really use that knife? What the heck is in this little plastic bag?? Sorting the details of the kitchen invites sorting though the details of my life. Do I want to stay on that committee? How is my morning routine going? What is my priority as I follow Autumn’s lead and begin again?

So what did Spider have to say about all of this? Well, as we know she is a creative master. She designs and constructs webs over and over, anticipating wind and weather, as if her life depends on it. She reminds me that I, too, weave my life with the strands of anxiety or the wisps of hope that I select from the vast storehouse of attitudes and emotions within me. She encourages me to notice that I have a choice over these resources. I can use my fears, over and over, to weave today’s web or I can gather my relationship with nature, for example, to establish intricate patterns within the space before me.

Spider gently invites me to see that my life depends upon my attempts to weave the elements of my life together into a Whole.

I don’t know what the Whole looks like yet. I’ve had glimpses, I’ve had dreams. I wonder if Spider sets her course with an architect’s hand, following the lines of a plan? Or does she turn to her core, her deepest places, and move forward out of her truth? I suspect she has learned to make spontaneous choices, to improvise. I admire that. Life can be unpredictable….

Sending love your way – from my web to yours,

Lisa

 

 

Dear Friends,

When I woke up the second time, the sun was streaming through the window. “There is no doubt it’s morning.” The birds started singing even earlier, my first wake-up call, to announce the brand new day. These days, many hours are spent in my writing room on various projects and passions. I am making time, though, for walking, swimming, stretching and dancing!

I turn 67 this year. This birthday is not the celebratory arrival of 65, a landmark age in our country’s countdown of aging. It’s not even 66, which slid by before I noticed I was one year older. 67?  Well, 67 has significance for me. It is that much closer to 70, which looms large in my mind. 70, an official elder. How can that be?

I always skip now and move toward then,its a habit to escape the difficulties around us. If I stay with anticipation instead of lived reality, I can avoid the feelings that come with everyday concerns or even the more serious challenges. It’s easy to develop that pattern, isn’t it? Especially, if you are faced with fears and pain in the present moment. But if there is breathing room, I take a pause and tune in to now.… “Lisa, you’re not 70. At the time of this writing, you’re not even 67! Instead, stay in this day… this hour… this moment.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “Life’s a journey not a destination.” What is the journey I am on today, this one day, on God’s green earth? What person will I be asked to love?  What accomplishment will I complete to support the greater good, the human family? Does cleaning under the kitchen sink count? Well, it does ease my mind…less stress gives me more space for love.

I choose love. When I encounter feelings of distrust or hurt or confusion in my relationships, I try to see them as lessons in love. If I address the disconnect within myself, I am freer to love this person, fully, just as they are.  I seek a practice of “generosity of spirit” to all I meet – barista, storekeeper, doctor, street person, neighbor – each a Child of God.

Some days are easier than others, but it’s a great way to live in the world. Each of us, bumbling along, sharing our best selves, shining our Light. May it be so!

with a grateful heart, Lisa

Dear Friends,

Love given, love received…a gift for us all.

Weddings reveal this precious exchange, a treasure found between human beings. Weddings, of all shapes and sizes, invite our hearts into their reality of hope, promise and joy. And we respond, don’t we? Our hearts repeat the love-filled vibration and are lifted up into the Love that sustains us all.

Our son, Jared, stepped into Love with his bride, Samantha, on June 11. All of us present, and those praying from afar, were drawn into their embrace and we remembered…

the birth of regard and respect for another, the gift of possibility the tender trust of an infant, resting in our arms

the moments of nature’s beauty that create a deep sigh and release

the times of forgiveness when we become aligned with another

the memories of discovering the sweetness of emotional intimacy

We saw this young couple’s love for one another as it radiated from their hearts to ours, inviting us to join in….to believe in Love. I offer these images of love to you, dear friends, to stir your own memories of Love. To return, perhaps on a day of doubt or discouragement, to that which nurtures your hearts. To trust the love you have known, to care for it tenderly, abide in it’s unfailing presence. Jesus tried to lead us home to Love, these special human moments remind us what is waiting for us when we say, “yes.”

May we all open our hearts to the dance of love,

Lisa

Dear Friends,
The morning light shimmers on the lake.
The dawn chorus greets the new day, sometimes before I’m ready to join them.
Colors have erupted everywhere.
Spring rain and Eastern wind have birthed new life right before my eyes.

When I return to the lake, I return to a state of mind that is filled with trust, with hope. I discover equanimity…mental calmness, evenness of temper, composure.

This does not mean I do not suffer. Anxiety, fear, self-consciousness – they are just around the corner! They are waiting to take me out to lunch!

But this morning, I breathe…look…be.

Over 50 years ago, a “Mitchell Drive” street sign was put up in Walnut Creek, California. It was in honor of my father, Ted Mitchell, who had died while helping Dow Chemical Company build a new laboratory in an undeveloped area of the city. That sign was part of my family story… we took pictures in front of it, introduced our sons to my dad’s legacy. That sign, just like my father’s memory, reaches across time and space to my heart…it’s part our Braid of Love.

This Spring, I asked the town of Middlefield for a speed limit sign on the road around Lake Beseck. I, and others, needed a reminder to slow down when entering the quiet of the lake. But, it wasn’t until it was standing there, tall and honest, that I put the two together. 

My father’s sign, this sign – they are reminders to breathe, look, be.

When I slow down, I am connected. My mind releases it’s relentless list of tasks and activities. When I tune into my surroundings, there is more to see, more to hear. Life is full and all around me, if I just slow down and read the signs.

Thinking of you with a grateful heart,

Lisa

 

 

Dear Friends,

You have been in my heart this April, as this Glimmer simmered through the weeks of Lent, Passover and Easter. This time was a kind of a “spiritual crossroads” where the mists part and that which is holy peeks through. If we listen we can hear Love speaking, in different languages to reach our different ears, but always speaking of love and mercy.

I am grateful I have “ears to hear.” For years, I have been hesitant to voice my Christian faith. I wanted, and want, to speak of universal truths that will reach out to any who need to hear the voice of love and hope. I believe that is my call at this point in my life. And yet, I must be grounded in a particular experience of the Divine. While I have the capacity and desire to share a universal message of love, my own heart must rest in the nest that gives me life. My soul comes alive when I am challenged to stand for justice and compassion, called to move out of my comfort zone to trust my truth. My heart is lifted when I am reminded of the reality of love.

This year, my Holy Week included sharing meals in silent with fifty other people who were listening for the Divine in their hearts. It included traveling to a friend’s home to celebrate Passover, to eat traditional foods and hear her grandchildren sing the prayer in Hebrew. I was blessed with experiencing Spring’s arrival while nestled at Mercy-by-the-Sea in Madison, CT and watched a woman’s heart break in her portrayal of Mary Magdalene at the empty tomb.

This year, I carried all of you with me as I went apart to travel the road of healing, reflection, humility and love. Your needs, whether I know them or not, went with me as I was nurtured in my nest and while I waited in the tomb. Your needs, whether I know them or not, are with me now as the glow of the Resurrection continues to fill my heart with peace. Friends, let us find a way to acknowledge the reality of love in our lives and give it room to grow. Happy Passover! Happy Easter! Happy Life!
With love,

Lisa

Dear Friends,

You have been on my mind and in my heart as February turns to March, as snow turns to sunshine and then back again. I wonder how you are managing the strife that surrounds us all, regardless of which side of the aisle we prefer. I wonder how you are taking care of yourself in this time of change.

I’ve had a lot of time to think about change, as I write about grief’s transformation in my upcoming book. While we all react to the demands of loss differently, each of us must come face to face with change’s unflinching presence in our lives. How do we process that? How do we make sense of our powerlessness?

Rainier Maria Rilke’s words from “Letters to a Young Poet” offer a suggestion:

Have patience with everything that is unsolved in your heart and try to cherish the questions themselves. It is a matter of living everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, one distant day, live right into the answer.

With Rilke’s words in my heart, I sit before the unknown in my journey. There are questions in my story that remain unanswered. There are losses that I grieve. Today I choose to “live the questions,” I do not turn away from the unknown but step into it. I accept my feelings of sadness, fear, or anger, and I welcome the feelings of hope, compassion or love that live alongside. And you know what I’ve discovered? I find myself empowered by this process, seeds of courage have taken root. I have the capacity to live with the both/and of life. I am willing to sit with the unknown and befriend the mystery. I am enough, my friends, and so are you!!

May it be so, Lisa