Molly Davis's Blog, page 41

Living With It

There are parts of myself that I wish I could resolve, put to rest, or leave behind. One of those is the feeling of anger that flashes, usually inwardly, but occasionally outwardly. It’s been with me for as long as I can remember, and yet I would love to think that I could unravel this thread that runs through my life, and leave it behind me for good and all. But the more likely truth is that I can’t, and I won’t, so rather than angst about it, I am learning to accept that it, like all the other parts of me, are probably going to stick around until I leave the planet.

It is an important emotion, and I probably couldn’t survive without it. Anger lets me know when something is out of whack, out of balance, or out of order, and conveys that there is something I need to say, do, or consider. However, sometimes it’s just a flash that gets triggered without a call to some sort of action on my part other than to sit with it until it dissipates. I’ve had therapy about it, processed it, prayed, written and talked about it, figured out where it comes from, who it comes from, and yet for better or for worse, it seems to be here to stay, and will be until I die.

I’ve decided that I can live with that.

Word Play

Because I am never in more danger of being wrong then when I’m certain that I’m right, and because nobody likes a know-it-all, I’m playing around with some new words.

I could be wrong about that.

You could be right about that.

Believe it or not, it’s actually kind of fun. Most of the time.

Confession

Church this week took place in the sacred sanctuary of the great outdoors. A forest that existed long before we were here, and that will live on long after we who gathered together there are gone. Rather than listen to the words of our pastor, she asked us to listen to and learn from the wisdom of the earth and the trees and the wind.

There was no mistaking the message, and the only response possible was to lift our voices together, in words of confession.

We confess that we do not often bother to contemplate the fragile-ness of your creation.

We do not act responsibly.

We do not act in the truth of our connectedness.

We have not loved creation, our neighbors,

or the generations to come as ourselves.

Forgive us, renew us, and lead us in the courage, and the wisdom,

and the will to change.

Amen

Laying The Groundwork

What is yours to do today that will lay the groundwork for what you want to happen tomorrow?

Photo by Inimafoto from Pexels

Three Points Of Contact

Wisdom is the art of living in rhythm with your soul, your life, and the divine. - John O’Donohue

When climbing a steep slope, scrambling over boulders, or as we did recently, a combination of both, it is important to remember to always keep three points of contact so as not to lose one’s balance. Falling in such a situation can lead to serious injury or worse. The same is true as we navigate the slopes and boulders and sometimes precarious trails that are our life.

Stay in touch with your soul, your true self.

Stay in touch with your life, the one that you are here to live in order to leave the world better because of you.

Stay in touch with the divine, that which is bigger than you, the presence the surrounds and supports and shelters you.

Privilege

It was a bucket list trip for the two of us. With the writing of a check for our remaining balance, we were off for five days in the wilderness as seen from the back of a horse. Along with the finances to even be able to afford such a thing, to make this trip happen required two wranglers, four horses, and five, yes that’s right, five pack mules, to haul all of the gear to feed, shelter, and shuttle us through some of the most beautiful terrain we’ve ever seen.

As we headed out from the Wallowa Lake Pack Station and hit the trail, the sight of the mules carrying the load so that we could have a bucket list trip brought one, and only one, word to mind…

Privilege.

The mules were the unsung hero of the trip, as step after steady step, they bore the weight for our journey.

How often do others bear the weight so that I don’t have to?

How many unsung heroes do the work that others won’t so that I can have an easier life?

How often do I neglect to recognize that life is only possible because of the unseen work of others?

The memories of this once-in-a-lifetime-trip will be with me forever. So, I hope, will the image of the mules that made it all possible.

A Question Worth Answering

Today in another rich conversation with my spiritual director, the topic of things I want to make happen, work I want to step into, but haven’t, came up. Again.

After a thoughtful pause, he quietly posed a question. What has kept you from stepping into it up until now? Now that is a question worth answering.

What is something you have really wanted to do? But haven’t.

What is something you have really wanted to make happen? But haven’t?

What is something you have really wanted to bring to life? But haven’t?

What is something you have really wanted to accomplish? But haven’t?

What has kept you from stepping into it up until now?

Now that is a question worth answering.

For all of us.

pixels.com

Grace

We are all in need of grace. Or at least I am. I seem to get things wrong as often as I get them right, and what keeps me going is the grace I receive over and over and over again. Sometimes, however, it is easy to forget that everyone else is in as much need of grace as I am, and yet the ones who need it the most are often the ones I want to extend it to the least. Which is why it is fast becoming one of my most necessary spiritual practices.

Grace is a choice, and the harder the choice, the greater the grace.

Pixels.com

Hidden Blessings

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.

Hebrews 11:1

The last thing on her list was a patio off the back of her home. Hers is an old house from which she is writing a new chapter, and reflecting on her past and imagining her future would happen best in an outdoor sanctuary in her own back yard. It wouldn’t have to be big. Just enough room for outdoor furniture, some pots, a place to sip morning coffee and gather with friends for a glass of wine in the evening.

But the to-do list is long, the days for sitting out on a patio are growing shorter, and building one from the ground up would call upon already stretched resources of time, energy, and the help of others. As much as she yearned for a sacred outdoor space to call her own, looking out on her back yard she quietly let go and decided to be content with what she had, while never losing sight of what might be. If that isn’t faith, I don’t know what is.

Heading out into the back yard the next morning to dig up some weeds, her shovel hit something hard. A few shovels full of dirt later she discovered an old brick. Digging further, another one. And then another, and another, and another, until an old brick patio, buried under half a foot of sod, appeared. It had been there all along. Exactly what she had imagined and even better than what she’d hoped for, had she pushed to make a new patio happen she would have missed the blessing hidden right beneath her feet.

“Faith is a place of mystery, where we find the courage to believe in what we cannot see and the strength to let go of our fear of uncertainty.” – Brene Brown

The Muk

A space is just a space, until you make it something more.

When my sister and brother-in-law bought their last home, they bought it not because it was the place of their dreams, but because it was the only one they could agree on. Determined to make a decision, they invited me to go along as they drove from listing to listing to listing. It was a long day.

At the time, they were moving from the home where they had raised their daughters, and they weren’t exactly sure what the next chapter would bring. He however was sure he wanted a shop, and she was certain she wanted a home with some charm and a garden. Sometimes I rode with him, and sometimes with her. Like I said. It was a long day.

By the end of the afternoon, he had his eye on a so-so house with a shop on a very busy street, and she was starry-eyed about the adorable cottage with a secret garden that overlooked the lanes to the ferry. We’d also looked at a townhome in Mukilteo. It overlooked the Puget Sound, and while it had a killer view of Whidbey Island, It didn’t have a shop, and it didn’t have a secret garden. With no decision in sight and all in need of caffeine, we headed to Starbucks. Breaking the silence, I asked each of them a question. Could she live in the so-so house on the busy street with the shop? No, she could not. Could he live in the adorable cottage with the secret garden that overlooked the ferry lanes? No, he could not. Well then, I asked, could they live in the townhome overlooking the Puget Sound with the killer view of Whidbey Island, but without a shop or a secret garden?

They could, and, as it turned out, they did.

After fourteen years, they are moving out of the The Muk. Even though it wasn’t what they’d imagined, or even hoped for, they moved in and made it work. They made it into a lovely space with lovely furnishings.

As it turns out, it was so much more than that.

A few nights ago their daughters, sons-in-law, and a passel of grandkids showed up to say goodbye to the The Muk. Apparently it wasn’t a place one could simply leave without a proper farewell. Crowded onto a small balcony, stories of times at the Muk began to unfold, painting a picture of a shelter from storms, a place where all who came felt safe, seen, heard, and loved. The Muk was a refuge of healing, hope, and a place where the truth, no matter how hard, was spoken and heard, and freedom was found.

When they moved in it was just a space with a view.

When they moved in they made it into a lovely space with lovely furnishings.

But a space with a view, no matter how beautiful, and a carefully furnished place no matter how lovely, do not a refuge make. Only love and grace and faith and truth and laughter and family and friendship and courage and compassion and tradition and extravagant welcome can do that.

Farewell to the Muk. We are all better for having known you.