March 2022

Dear Friends,

Before March slides away, I wanted to reach out and let you know about an upcoming program I am offering at Mercy by the Sea Retreat and Conference Center in Madison, CT. It is on-site, only, and will be held Monday, April 25th, 9:30-3:30. More information can be found on my “Upcoming” website page or go to Mercy by the Sea directly by clicking here. 

Loss and grief are part of our human story, there is no way around it. And these last two years have heightened our awareness of and deepened our experience of loss, collectively and personally. My 2018 book, “Grieving- the Sacred Art,” offered the idea of conscious grieving as a way of navigating our feelings, thoughts, resistances and desires in the world of grief. Due to our general avoidance of painful feelings, grief is usually managed, as best we can. Conscious grieving, however, invites us to move past the templates of our upbringing, learning new ways to honor the losses in our life….conscious grieving respects our unique experience and suggests a level of participation, a “leaning in” to loss, letting the natural movement of healing to move through us.

So our day at Mercy by the Sea will offer some ideas, create an open space for prayer and sharing, and allow the beauty of the grounds and Long Island Sound to minister to our souls. Together, we will cultivate and nourish seedlings of hope for each other, for ourselves and for our hurting world. If you or someone you know might be interested, I hope you’ll consider joining us.

All the best, Lisa

 

Dear Friends, 

I’m so glad to think of you as I write this message, you warm my heart as the sun warms the land around me.

I hope Spring is appearing where you are. In my world, I see snowdrops replace snow in quiet corners, tree buds tightly bundled and ready to burst, the goldfinch’s yellow returning and an ease when I walk outside. Winter’s cold has loosened it’s grip at Beseck, thankfully, and a new season outside invites a new season within.

Just like the faithful farmers and gardeners who tend their seedlings in the basement or greenhouse, I too am caring for new life. A little seed of Trust was planted in my heart, tucked away in the darkness and nourished by prayer and promise. The green seedling is strong now, leaves outstretched, reaching for the light and fed by the warmth and water below. I am growing trust.

I’m sort of proud of myself, I have to admit. The news of the world and our country weighs heavy on my heart. The faces of people in distress and anguish, the injustices that are fermenting around us, and loss – personal and collective loss…all are part of my awareness and thus part of my prayer. And still, I tend my little seedling of Trust. I suspect there are many varieties of Trust, like tomatoes, and, like tomatoes, they serve different purposes. I’m not 100% clear what the purpose is for this particular sprout, but that’s part of the deal with Trust, isn’t it? For me, it’s an invitation to openness and a generosity of spirit. We shall see…

In my quiet time today, I sat with that seed. Pushed aside, broken apart to make room for the emerging seedling, I saw the pain that comes with new life. I offered a prayer of gratitude for the promise it protected until it was time, I honored the pain of transformation that all living things endure. I told the seed that I will participate in the care of it’s seedling, this young and most eager, tendril of Trust. I will mind her lovingly and faithfully, as she, and I, mature in the warmth of the sun and the light of Love.

with affection and gratitude,

Lisa