Glimmers

Petra bobbed her head, dipping her massive body into sturdy legs. She pulled her wings inward, a feathered presence gathering strength to fly. Earlier, we had held our breath as she, a gorgeous Turkmenian Eagle Owl, flew around the seated crowd from post to post. Her trainer’s British accent heightened the moment, telling stories of an owl’s life and survival, also confirming that I wasn’t in Kansas (or Connecticut) anymore.

But this moment was different. Following an extended head swivel in both directions, Petra was looking in our direction. Her dark eyes held mine. I opened myself to the mystery…she flew between and barely above our heads…my son, Jared, and I were graced with Petra’s strength of purpose. As she passed by my ear, her silent wings spoke, “Here I am, join me in the dance of life.”

Dear Friends,

What I have heard is true, a pilgrim’s heart is an open heart. My plans to travel to England had some very specific destinations in mind, but with a pilgrim’s heart I was open to the unexpected and grace-filled moments that quietly appeared before my eyes. I am so grateful for these gifts, for the experiences I had on my own and with Jared and Samantha, my son and daughter-in-law, who shared the adventure. Before I continue, may I add two things: First, thank you for your responses and prayers following my last Glimmer. I truly carried you with me on this journey. And secondly, I hope my story-telling always carries invitations for you to consider your stories, your prayer and moments of grace. My intention is to speak of the personal as a doorway into the universal human experience.

I flew to England with two desires in mind: A shared experience with Jared to encounter landmarks from 3 generations in our family tree: my Grandma’s childhood home, my great-grandfather’s baptismal font, and my great-great grandparents home village. I hoped to sink into these spaces, to rest in the human story that these places and names represent and to trust their love, now and always. And, amazing but true, to spend special time with Jared and Sam, with an occasional hand on her belly, as they celebrate her 20 week pregnancy of their little girl, our first grandchild. Their joy was palpable, their love extended beyond that little bean in Sam’s belly into the world!

This pilgrim’s heart came home joy-filled and hopeful, as I found myself placed in the center of a lineage of love. From the Cotswolds to Cambridge, I experienced belonging deep in my heart. I join Petra’s sweet whisper and sing it to you, dear friends, “Here I am, join me in the dance of life!” May you find moments of pilgrimage in the unexpected around you. May you wait and watch, trusting yourself and the paths you’re invited to walk. May your heart remain open to love in all of its manifestations.

Peace, Lisa

Dear Friends,

Today I begin a pilgrimage. Or has my life’s pilgrimage brought me to this day? I could not step out, into this new adventure, without including you in my preparation…without including you in my heart.

I have always been an experiential learner, and teacher, as well. The classroom was wall-papered with content, wisdom and stories of others whose humanity guided the path. Tables, chairs and desks were arranged so that conversation happened easily or contemplative listening happened naturally – engagement in the service of opening minds and hearts. Today, I welcome the image of myself as the student of my own story. I understand my passion for experience as an invitation to truth. I open my heart, just a little bit more, to the Source of my own wisdom and sink into my identity as “Beloved.”

This awareness is not an easy step for me, as I expect for you, as well. We are told we are “children of God,” we are taught a gospel of love and forgiveness, yet our traditional patterns include self-doubt, inner criticism, or serious judgement. How can I, or you, live in the light of knowing we are beloved of God? I propose the practice of experiential learning as a thread to follow! Let us pick ourselves up and enter new spaces. Let us discover ourselves as we explore the invitations that life offers, often in our own backyard. “Let us ponder the unknown, what is hidden and what’s whole, and finally learn to travel at the speed of our own soul.”

I was all set to describe my plan and my intentions for it, but fortunately I realized I’d be packing “expectation” into my suitcase instead of being open to the moments before me. Yes, I have an itinerary and some logistics set up, I’m nearly 73 after all. At the same time, I carry a pilgrim’s heart and trust the journey that invites me. May we all deepen our trust in the paths before and within us, may we all walk with the Holy One guiding our steps. As John Philip Newell prays, “My soul sings of you, O God, you are the seed of new beginnings. My soul sings of you, O God, my spirit delights in your Presence.”

Pray for me, friends, as I pray for you on the pilgrim’s path, Lisa

Hi Friends,

How are you on this new day? As June comes to a close, I consider the “life lessons” that have come my way. I wonder what words or images might connect with your heart at summer’s arrival. A couple years ago, I shared about the feelings of belonging I enjoy when playing in the pool at the YMCA . Today my mind returns to that cool, blue water where I’m surrounded by laughing and hard-working friends.

Our Water Ex class is filled with movements that work so many parts of my body, even my feet as as I use them to grasp an underwater noodle! I used to believe laps were a superior work-out in the pool, but no more! Just a different experience of inhabiting my aging, but faithful, body. I also used to get frustrated when our instructor called for one set of twists and turns on the left side and didn’t duplicate it on the right side of said body. “What is she doing?” I muttered to myself as I did it the “right” way out there in the back row. (Being tall, I land in deeper water and enjoy the freedom it offers.)

Lately, though, I’ve stopped monitoring our instructor’s cues for the left and right sides of leg or arm movements. Sometimes there is a difference between each side, but instead of worrying about her possible forgetfulness or my needing the security of sameness (it’s my inner Monk), I’ve surrendered to the gift of the present moment. I’m moving, for heaven’s sake! I’m paying attention to my right hip (or left shoulder or right abductor) with love!

If you’ve made it all the way through this Glimmer, thank you! If you relate to the ongoing and complex relationships with 1) body, 2) surrender, 3) ego and 4) self-compassion, hello and welcome! If you’d join me one step further, I offer these words and music of Carly Simon that just seem to fit my own inner movements of healing and hope, self-acceptance and aging. She says, “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about growing older and moving on, nobody wants to be told that they’re getting on.”

There is wisdom in this moment of our lives, friends. This very moment holds the fullness of failure and joy, life and loss. Let us stretch our hearts, as well as our beloved arms and legs, to a truth so eloquently expressed:

“That life is eternal, and love is immortal, and death is only a horizon
Life is eternal as we move into the light, and a horizon is nothing, save the limit of our sight”

My love to you, Lisa

Dear Friends,

Do you remember the thrill of seeing a newborn’s hands? And their little tiny fingers? Do you remember calling out, “Look at the fingernails! Do you see those teeny, tiny fingernails?” The miracle of life, right there, in that tiny bit of hardened protein!

I had my own fingernail epiphany recently. After trying the “dip” method of nail color for three consecutive visits, nearly 12 weeks of my fingernails encased in layers of serious chemical color, I decided to take a break and see how they’re doing. The thrill was gone. Instead, my pronouncement was, “Look at my fingernails! Do you see those damaged, injured fingernails?”

My nails are a lot older than that unnamed baby’s. And they join the many changes my body has experienced over time – broken bones, addition of plate and screws, weight gained and lost, removal of a section of large intestine and of cataracts, and the birthing of two healthy babies. The miracle of life, right there, in this mature human being.

My new naturopath invited me to start each day with this question, “If I decided to take complete care of myself today, I would….” Today, I sit in a quiet, contemplative space and listen for the answers. I look at my recovering fingernails and am grateful that they, and I, have the capacity to heal. I consider the many sides of my life and am grateful for the opportunities that offer such care in attending to my body and soul. I surrender into my identity as a child of God and accept my unique rhythm of learning and growing.

If I decided to take complete care of myself today, I would celebrate who I am and whose I am. My fingernails, resting at the end of my wrinkled hands and fingers, are a humble, vulnerable reminder of my lovable self.  A self that I am learning to embrace, care for and know by her true name, “Beloved.”

May it be so for all of us, Lisa

Dear Friends,

I think of you on this last day of April 2023. I pray for you, too, as the transitions in your own life are surrounded by the constant stream of difficult news. Our walk on Earth, these days, calls for an increased ability to adjust, and then adjust again and again. And I wonder, what are our resources for such a path? How do we stay centered, conscious and compassionate? How do we take care of ourselves? 

There is not a one-solution-fits-all answer, we have many options to consider. Lessons of resiliency, meditation and expression help us return to the truth. If we listen, we hear wisdom in our traditions’s scripture and song, nourishing our heart and soul. If nature is our conduit of the Divine, time spent in the forest, along the shore or with a favorite winged friend can offer an opening to wholeness. There is not a one-solution-fits-all for self-care, but all of us are invited to find the ones that support our unique self.

During a recent encounter with travelers in the Land of Loss, I shared that our vulnerability is a secret passageway to healing…. a path of self-care that leads to a strong and hopeful heart.  In my experience, my vulnerability always brings me to the center of who I am, to a place of tender trust, a place where I feel loved. Researcher and author Brene Brown puts it this way,

“If we want to reclaim the essential emotional part of our lives and reignite purpose and passion, we have to learn how to own and engage with our vulnerability and learn how to feel the emotions that come with it. Owning our story can be hard, but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky, but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy.”

So, from that tender place of knowing myself as a child of God, I offer you this lovely song by Carly Simon, “Life is Eternal.” You too, friends, are God’s beloved that I’ve the privilege to know. When we meet one another’s vulnerable hearts, we encounter the truth  – a primary resource – we are walking together in the Land of Love.

“Life is eternal and love is immortal and death is only a horizon. Life is eternal as we move into the light. And a horizon is nothing save the limit of our sight, save the limit of our sight.”

Peace to you, Lisa

Dear Friends,

Last week, I was driving behind a school bus as children were let off, one or two at a time. I didn’t notice in the moment, I was preoccupied  from my recent entry in the Land of Loss, that the bus pulled over without the stop-arm swinging open. The bus took off again, before I realized the pull-over had been an invitation to pass, to avoid the monotony and delay of go – – stop – – kid off – – go – – stop – – kid 0ff – –  again and again.

Friends, this was an ordinary day. It wasn’t a holiday or the last day of the year, or even the last day of the week! Yet, at each stop the child walked quickly or ran toward the adult and was greeted with a full body hug! a kiss at the top of the head! a look in the eyes that said, “I love you!” My own eyes tear up telling you this story, as I remember what it felt like to witness Love, over and over again.

I admit, I have felt weighed down lately. As a companion with those in the Land of Loss, I enter with them. To create a safe space for them to be with their feelings, I return to my feelings around Loss. In addition, I, like all of us, am weighed down by the ongoing concerns around our Earth, political tensions in our country and the world. It’s like the Winter that never ends.

And it yet it does end, doesn’t it? Spring arrives with a change in the air, with daffodils and blue birds, with hope blooming right before us. In this change of season, we are invited to expand our awareness of the Life that surrounds us. Loss, conflict and decline will continue – but so will Love, hope and forgiveness. We are invited to open our hearts to the co-existence of things, the both/and of things, and nourish that understanding as we watch parents loving their children, families texting songs of love on an ordinary day, people offering kindness to strangers. Join me in welcoming Spring for the gift of hope it offers.

May I add a huge thank you to those of you who responded to my last Glimmer? I was so touched and comforted by your care for me and your connection to the song and video I offered. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I’d also like to add a reminder of a couple April programs I am offering for those who seek support with their losses. April 1 brings me to Holy Family Retreat Center for a day entitled “The Path of Conscious Grieving.” There is still room for registration. Then, on April 15, I will be on the Cape at the Center for the Spiritual Journey for a gentle day we’re calling “Permission to Grieve.” Both of these are highlighted here with links for more information.

Peace on this brand new Spring day! Lisa

Dear Friends,

A long-time friend of mine died last month, she was a year younger than me and faced multiple health issues. Her soul, though, was (is) one of the healthiest and dearest that I have encountered. She touched people’s hearts with deep faith, humor and kindness, but mostly by being herself. My heart is broken open.

Her last words to me were, “Thank you for who you are.” I don’t know about you, but I’m more aware of my flaws, not my “okness,” so I pause in response to her gratitude. In my time of grief, I choose to reflect on her message to me, her prayer for me.  What if someone said this to you? Would you receive it? Are you willing to be thanked for being yourself?

Years ago, I came across this video of Lana Wachowski as she is being given the Human Rights Campaign Visibility Award. Lana is a transgendered woman, formerly Larry, and one the creators of “The Matrix” series and the movie, “Cloud Atlas.” I was transfixed by her courage, as she shared her most personal and unique journey of being who she is. At the 6:35 mark in the video, she tells a story about the upcoming award to her hairdresser. He asks, “Award for what?” She replies, “Well, I guess, kind of, for being myself.” Imagine that? I’m often moved to tears by this exchange, Lana’s journey toward authenticity inspires me to hang in there, to accept who I am with a little more compassion and patience.

My last words to my dying friend came in the form of a song, “How Could Anyone” by Shaina Noll. Oh, I so hope you click the link and listen to it, friends. It so happened, she had told me years ago of this song’s significance to her. Gratefully, I remembered and shared the gentle tune and message with this sweet soul as she traveled into the arms of her God. May we all truly receive this reminder of our intrinsic beauty as children of God. May we all hear these words and believe….

How could anyone ever tell you
You were anything less than beautiful
How could anyone ever tell you
You were less than whole
How could anyone fail to notice
That your loving is a miracle
How deeply you’re connected to my soul

God’s peace to you this day, Lisa

Dear Friends

I recently made an interesting decision. I decided to let go of shame.

It was a slip-off-of-a-stool kind of decision, it was just the next natural thing. Considering how I process things to death, it feels like a moment of Grace.

As a spiritual director, I sit with people as they share their hearts. It is a remarkable, grace-filled experience to be present to another’s heart. But listening to my own heart? It has been a rough path. I think I’m stubborn. I suspect that’s how it is for some of us, some would say Ego is putting up a fight.

I recently sat with a man who described a moment as “freeing.” The look on his face when he spoke was so inspiring. His expression invited me to imagine what it feels like to b-e  f-r-e-e. Free of self-consciousness, free of questions about self-worth, free of fear, free of doubt. I’ve had “freeing” moments, a sacred awareness of God’s love for me. But in daily life, the very human patterns slide back in and I get caught in the “not enough.”

I’ve been writing to you, friends, for 9 years – drawing connections between my little life, the complex world that we share and the healing presence of Divine Love that surrounds us. Primary themes have been Hope and Conscious Grieving, since many of you, like me, come to these Glimmers through the path of Loss.  As I consider my call as a guide in the Land of Loss, I pause and gratefully remember, that I am, like you, a child of God. And as I consider our journey together, I rejoice. With your companionship, I deepen my trust in the Abiding Love that surrounds us all. Together, let us open our eyes to the Land of Hope that has been here, all along.

To continue the conversation, I invite Connecticut friends to join me on Thursday, March 2 at 7pm, at John P Webster Library. Part of First Church in West Hartford, JPW is hosting, “An Evening with Lisa Irish: Hope in the Land of Loss.” It’s free, will include book giveaways and sales, and is designed to share messages of hope that I have encountered in my journeys. I hope you can come, it would be a gift to share the experience with you. You can find JPW at 12 S Main St in West Hartford and register for the program with this link. And if you can’t be there, please keep those who attend in your prayer, in your loving intention for peace in human hearts.

All my best, Lisa

Dear Friends,

I’ve joined the statistics, was it inevitable?

My husband and I had symptoms, each tested positive, and landed in bed for several days. Our schedules were rearranged and I repeatedly thanked God for a working furnace and the kindness of neighbors to keep us safe.

I’m fully aware that the circumstances of my encounter with Covid were very fortunate. During these long, isolated days I thought about those who suffer and those who grieve. As our world-wide pandemic becomes endemic to our way of life, we are confronted with loss. How do we find our way through the consistent drumbeat of difficulties in 2023? I offer a hopeful reminder, the gift of those who accompany us, our human family.

“I’ve heard it said that people come into our lives, for a reason, bringing something we must learn.
And we are led to those, who help us most to grow if we let them, and we help them in return
Well, I don’t know if I believe that’s true
But I know I’m who I am today, because I knew you”

This message from the musical “Wicked” arrived in my life, recently, and offered comfort to my lonely heart.  A golden arrow pointed at the relationships in my life as the Covid-enforced quarantine prevented simple, every-day contact. I thought about friends long-past, our lives moving apart in different directions, but the gifts remaining. I recalled single moments of connection, never followed-up, but sacred in their way. Filled with love, I remembered hugs, a shared cup of tea, a quiet breath of another…. And I, too, could sing, “I know I’m who I am today, because I knew you.”

How do we find our way? Where is Hope housed in these confusing times? For me, on this first day of the rest of my life, I place my trust in our human connections of love and compassion, of tenderness and kindness. I rest in this singular moment, dear friends, and continue to sing “because I knew you, I have been changed for good.”

Dear Friends,

On this Christmas Eve, we await the birth of new life: in ourselves…our souls and hearts; in our relationships…with their connections and concerns; in this moment… of wonder and waiting. What does that look like for you?

The Christmas tale leads us into a profound story of hope that transcends cookies and presents, that aligns our intentions with all world religions, that renews our commitment to the path of Love. What does that feel like for you?

My prayer and words today are directed toward those of you who are struggling with the commercial chaos of Christmas. My heart reaches out to those whose own heart is broken through loss, misunderstanding, isolation, or disenfranchisement in the midst of the cultural expectations that surround us. How are you balancing your inner life with the splashy outer events in your world?

On this Christmas Eve, I offer Jan Richardson’s “Blessing of Hope,” as comfort and reminder. Our loving God walks with us in expectation and in disappointment, in joy and confusion. As we learn the ways of unitive consciousness, the gift of both/and teaches us to hold conflicting feelings alongside the gift of hope. May hope, indeed, be born on this night…on every night.  With love to you dear friends, Lisa

BLESSING OF HOPE

So we may know the hope that is not just for someday, but for this day – here, now, in this moments that opens to us:

hope not made of wishes but of substance, hope made of sinew and muscle and bone,

hope that has breath and a beating heart, hope that will not keep quiet and be polite,

hope that knows how to holler when it is called for, hope that knows how to sing when there seems little cause,

hope that raises us from the dead – not someday but this day, every day, again and again and again.