Tag: vows

Presence/Poetry

/ Lanae / Leave a comment Featured

I haven’t forgotten I have a blog, nor have I forgotten the joy weaving words together brings me, but I have been seeking to discern where and how writing fits into this full to the brim season of my life – the career season, I guess! I still, and always will, consider writing as one of my first loves and one of my deepest callings. Sometimes, though, it’s been a neglected love, one that I needed to pick up from a shelf and dust off, rediscover anew. Or it’s a calling that’s gotten swamped amidst the multitude of other time and commitment choices I’ve made. Or it’s a gift I have too often left unopened or unshared …

I love the therapeutic work that I am engaged in, and it’s part of my life’s work, my calling – to listen, teach, serve, guide, counsel, be present, help people find the healing power within them – but writing has never stopped feeling as though it belongs in my life’s work too. The form and expression it takes just seems to keep evolving … and so the form it seems to be taking right now is journaling and poetry, putting my journaling into poem/prose form (free form, that is, free from any conventional style of rhythm and rhyme!). Somehow, poetry seems simpler to manage right now than a thought-piece or essay, too. And since I wrote multitudes of poems in my teens and twenties, returning to poem-form feels like coming home.

So, this blog offering is a poem drawn from more of my January retreat (at St. Benedict) journaling. A poem that feels like it weaves together the mosaic of intentions that shapes the deepest essence of  who and how I want to be in the work I do, the life I live … deep listening, loving speech, healing words, learning stillness, practicing the pause, holding presence, being present with Presence. Mindful speech, mindful silence.

These intentions are like vows – my ‘Presence in communication’ vows – vows that are sacred to me. And these are also vows offered to myself, my children, my friends, colleagues, clients, everyone I meet. I’m still only beginning to learn how to practice them and be them with mindful consistency across the many situations and interactions that come my way, but I am keeping them close at heart!

(And if you look in the wayback of my blog archives, I’ve carried these intentions, these vows – or they’ve carried me – for a while now, and they’ve only taken deeper root. They’re home, where they belong! I’m home in them …)

I think, too, that this poem just opened my eyes to something – that my calling is itself a mosaic, many parts of whole, as one! The intentions of belovedness and Presence hold this mosaic together.

Presence in Communication

The intention of my every day communication:
To carry silence with my communication,
to allow silence the place in my communication –
pauses before my words, rests while listening
whole listening
my own thoughts stilled
open to the silence behind the other’s words
the unspoken notes clear to my ear

My policy toward the spoken word:
Use only the words that are most necessary
With care, choose them well
Take a breath, take a sacred pause
better to enter into a space –
a space that allows the liberty to feel
into the right intent
from which the right words will
flow –
Right words will come
from the letting go of over-thinking
the search for them
surrendering into the flow
of Presence

Best of all, in all
tend presence, tend Presence
Presence speaks the best, says the most
and needs no words
to convey the meaning of love
to show another they are heard and known
If and when words fail –
for they do and will
accept this truth with grace –
If and when words fail –
remain present
With or without words
your presence is your
communication
of your essence

Deepen presence, deepen into it
become
intimate
with silence, stillness, sacred pauses, rests
deep listening
whole-soul listening not only to the words
but beyond the words
to the whole being of another

Listening with deep presence, quiet mind
from this well of deep Presence
mindful healing words
can be drawn to offer
like living water
But it is your presence still
that makes the water
of your words
Living

Retreat reflections: Mindfulness vows to myself

/ Lanae / Leave a comment Featured

I began 2019 with a silent retreat at a lovely, serene spiritual oasis in northeast Nebraska (St Benedict Center). It was a time of deeply mindful, sacred rest – exactly what my body and soul needed after a busy, intense, revolutionary year full of some pretty powerful learning and growing experiences! 

When I arrived, my soul felt it was home. I knew, my body and soul knew, here was a place of deep peace safe to rest and be – and all I had to do here was rest and be. Lay down burdens, step into another world, set aside the phone and the watch, re-connect to and follow the rhythms of nature and my own body. What a delight and relief!

For me, this retreat was like a spiritual pilgrimage, a journey within, to see what I could find and learn in the silence and to see what gifts and news silence would bring me. I came with some deep desires. What I hungered for was to find and learn what would help me live my purpose to be more present in my life and with others. What I thirsted for was to immerse myself in Presence and know deeper healing and wholeness.

After arriving and settling in, I thought, to find what I’m seeking I need to set intention(s) that will give me clear direction. Oh, yes, I sought space for my soul to wander free … but I also didn’t want my mind to wander lost either!

I sat in the solarium that first afternoon with pen and notebook, surrounded by books and light and spacious quiet, soaking in the peaceful ambience, a still quiet at ease with itself. I reflected on how I could act with deliberate intention in physical and spiritual ways to support and deepen my purpose and practice of presence, to embody mindfulness.

In this quietness, these words came to be my guide and companion on my retreat journey. And they’ve stayed! I decided they weren’t just retreat vows, but life vows. I printed out and framed a copy I keep in my bedroom, and another I put on my desk in my (new!) office space, to keep my purpose ever before my eyes, engraved on my mind, nurtured in my heart, informing my words and my work, flourishing in my whole being.

There were many rich lessons, wild and precious moments of pure joy and aliveness, profound healing experiences, and other gifts I’d love to share down the road perhaps (some feel like they are only meant to be told in how I live but the ones meant to be told here will tell me, I’m sure!). But for now, just this seems enough and more:

Guiding Mindfulness Vows

(My Vows to myself on my Retreat and for Life)

When I walk, I will walk
When I sit, I will sit
When I eat, I will eat
When I write, I will write
When I read, I will read
When I rest, I will rest
When I listen, I will listen
When I observe, I will observe

When I look, I will look deeply
            into myself
            into what is present

When a feeling arises, I will feel it as it is
            and then set it free
            chaining to it no story

I will be with my body
                       my heart
                       my mind
                       my soul

When I notice myself in distraction  
          I will redirect myself with a gentle grace
When I notice myself in rumination and self-recrimination
            I will give thanks for my awareness and
            return my body and mind to the one act
                        of presence

            of walking
            of sitting
            of eating
            of writing
            of reading
            of resting
            of listening
            of observing

Above all and in all
            of experiencing this moment
           of being and inter-being

With my presence, I will be present
With Presence, I will be present

On becoming forty: Surrendered vows, divergent paths, transformed topography

/ Lanae / 2 Comments Featured

Sometime ago, in my wayback files, I found a forgotten collection of poems from my late twenties.

Seventy-seven glimpses into who I was at 29, windows and mirrors in time. Early days of motherhood, word snapshots of my first son as a baby, the changing seasons, world events, prayers, dreams, life lessons, my heart and soul.

And then, this poem. Reading it from the vantage point of 40 now felt so strikingly poignant and invited reflection… since the journey between 29 and 40 unfolded in ways unforeseen and unfathomed by 29-year-old me!

Becoming twenty-nine

And now –
I am twenty-nine
forty seems closer
more real
than it did at twenty
at fifteen
At fifteen –
I imagined twenty-four
but I think I could not
stretch my imagination more
and think of myself
who I would be beyond
Twenty-four came, twenty-four went
every year since
as though journeying into
a realm unimagined
And it seems to me
my true youth has fled
not that I feel old
but here – at this juncture of time
the limitless, or the illusion,
of limitless possibilities
has narrowed to a single road –
not even one I ever dreamed
I would walk down –
(the aisle as bride)
The future lies ahead now
with the simple choice
of living with the choices
that have closed doors
and opened but one –
ah, but let’s see how far the road
beyond it will go
and what waits along the way

Oh, what waited along the way!

That single straight road became a spiraling one with several forks in it, surprising crossroads where divergent paths met … and many new doors opened onto new paths, views, opportunities, possibilities.

Years before, I thought my life had narrowed to a single road and my path was set only to find myself drawn down an unexpected path.

Since I had felt moved to be in ministry work at 15, I had envisioned my life spent in that calling, a lifetime vow. But Spirit taught me to surrender that vision and vow … and at the time, it was painful to surrender what seemed my truest calling.

I had never dreamed I would walk down the aisle as a bride – no, I hadn’t.  Marriage hadn’t seemed a calling meant for me. But, much to my surprise, Spirit led me there, so I believed that’s where I would stay, always.

I never dreamed I would reverse that walk down the aisle; love bid me stay. But Spirit led me there, too; love bid me go.

And the profession vows I made in the fellowship I grew up in, I only thought then but what those would be for life. I dared not think otherwise … “My vows I have made, I cannot now go back.” I never fathomed leaving; love bid me stay. But Spirit led me there, too; love bid me go.

And never did I think I would be free to accept and embrace my sexuality, my identity, fully and openly … there I had made a vow of silence and self-denial, what seemed a necessary sacrifice (though I was sacrificing my wholeness and well-being, a costly sacrifice indeed, because it affected all those in relationship with me, too). Self-denial that requires denying the essence of who you are isn’t healthy self-denial, but soul-warping self-denial.

But Spirit showed me I was beloved and free, and that loving the essence of who I am and living the truth set me free.

My 29-year-old self believed there would always be a familiar and safe topography along the road ahead: same vows, same faith, same church, same community, same friends, same marriage.

And the same inner landscape with its long angst-y dark night of the soul that I believed would always be a constant in my spiritual and emotional topography, no matter what unfolded on the path.

But then the spiraling road brought me the gift of belovedness.

And living in this belovedness and liberty transformed my inner landscape, then the entire topography of my life, opening up paths, perspectives, possibilities divergent from the familiarity of the known and expected road.

I embarked on a coming-out path and surrendered that vow of deep silence regarding my sexuality. For the good of my soul I vowed to walk and live in wholeness and truthfulness; Spirit opened that vision and vow to me.

For a while, I thought the outward familiarity of the well-travelled road might mostly continue as it was … that I could walk that old path and keep other vows in a new way, as a whole person.

Yes, I expected significant changes. Yet somehow I didn’t see some of them unfolding how or as soon as they’ve unfolded … I didn’t wish for the whole path and all its familiar safe topography to change so much so soon.

But as I continued to make choices aligned with the truth of my sexuality and my spirituality, those divergent paths, those crossroads, kept meeting me at every turn. And at every turn, Spirit, yes, Spirit, kept directing me down the less familiar path, into places and paths of surrender.

My spiritual topography kept evolving; my path kept diverging.

I laid aside belief in any ‘one true way’ teachings and yet found the Way that transcends all religious traditions, creeds, and doctrines, and is the essence of true religion: Love, the universal thread of truth and life.

I parted with dear friends, friends I loved. Left a church community I loved. Spirit bid me leave, but love remains.

Ended a marriage that even in its trying times was precious to me …. worth all of the 13+ years. No regrets, no bitterness. All is gift. Spirit bid me leave, but love remains.

Some might question how it’s of love to surrender a marriage vow; a good question.

But what if the vows come to cause the hurt of your own soul … and surrendering them for the good of your soul?  What if keeping the vows causes the hurt of others, of their souls … and surrendering them for the highest good, for all?

Then surrendering them is love. Surrendering such vows, if it must be done, is best done in Love, because of love.

I surrendered none of these vows without intense contemplation to know its rightness or without profound grief for the accompanying losses.  Because of love.

Not only for my own losses, but also for the losses some near to me felt keenly. For just as my earlier lack of wholeness affected my relationships, following a path of wholeness affected my relationships. To some, I seemed no longer to be someone they recognized or knew; the changes I experienced as good for my soul, they didn’t.

And so I know there was loss and grief for others because of the divergent paths I followed, and I knew (I know) the pang of it in my own heart. Because of love.

So now, my path and my life landscape, inside and out, looks so different than my 29-year-old self could have fathomed, indeed!

For all I’ve lost, I’ve found much, much has found me. I’ve found my wholeness, my mind and soul, spiritual abundance, liberty, Belovedness! New spiritual communities, connections, capabilities. Rich relationships, deeper perspectives, purpose. And realized: I never left ministry, it only returned to me in a new form!

I see more clearly now: there have always been divergent paths. There has always been surrender on the journey. Love in each choice. Surrender and love always interwoven.

Such a divergent path it has been and become and will be, always! And Belovedness now the constant in the entire topography of my life and my journey, always.

So, here’s a new ending, on becoming forty, and beyond:

The future lies ahead now – no,
is Now
with the simple choice
of living with the choices
that have closed doors
but also opened many –
A single path, yes,
but with boundless possibility
limit itself the illusion
and abundance the truth
Ah, now let’s see how far and where the road
beyond it will go
and what is present in the way
Now