This is something I wrote way back here...and today feel just sick I haven't lived it. I KNOW this. It's like part of my head knows it and part of my head doesn't. Tears today as I'm just aching over the pain I've caused by acting out of fear rather than love ... again. So I'm reading these words (that I WROTE!) and hoping I can live into them:

"This is unconditional love: being a mirror, mirroring the goodness in the other to them, not knowing if they will reciprocate.


This is unconditional love: knowing exactly how one wants most to be loved and giving that to another without strings attached.

This is unconditional love: loving fiercely and extravagantly without holding back.

This is unconditional love: loving the other in all these ways EVEN IF the other person doesn't even "get" or "appreciate" that you are doing so, or understand/acknowledge the risk that it took for you to do so.

This is unconditional love: even allowing the person you love to walk away if they decide to but allowing your love to follow them for the rest of your life.

This is unconditional love: to choose to continue to see the other person for who they really are, and not to label them in a negative way, even if they reject you.

This is unconditional love: to, even after you are rejected, persist as far as you are able to communicate to the person in that mirroring sort of way all the beauty and goodness you experienced of them. In other words, thank them for the gift of the time they did give you, the parts of you they did show you and the way that you were altered in positive ways by having had contact with them." 

(from here)

Beads and String

A couple weeks ago I got a phone call from one of my sisters telling me to hurry over to my grandparents' house ("NOW!") because it looked like he had only hours, perhaps just minutes, left to live. That afternoon and evening we sat around my grandfather's bed, crying, laughing, praying, reading Bible passages, telling stories, whispering our goodbyes into ears we weren't sure could hear, hugging and kissing the unconscious form we had been held so lovingly by for all our lives.

His breathing improved instead of getting worse as the night wore on. Eventually most of us decided we needed to go home and get some rest, since it looked like he could carry on in the state he was in for many more hours, or even days.

When I came back the next morning, he was still breathing, and continued to do so all that day. There were several moments where we thought the end was near, but mostly we sat in the room that had always been "Pop Pop's puzzle room," talking about anything and everything. I ended up spending the night that night and falling asleep for a few hours in my grandparents' bed, in Pop Pop's place next to my grandmother. We were shakened awake by the hospice nurse, who said we needed to go to the puzzle room right away. He had gone quickly and suddenly.

But all during that last day while we sat around talking and holding vigil, I kept my hands busy. I brought some elastic string and some purple beads with me and I threaded the beads onto the string, one by one, as the hours ticked by. I'd brought them thinking it would be something to keep my hands busy, since sitting still in one place can sometimes be hard for me. What I didn't realize is that what started as a way to pass the time became something incredibly sacred.

Though I can't remember what we talked about that day, and the sight of his thin, pale face as he lay there in the middle of the room, all of us in chairs around him, is beginning to fade already, I still have the bracelets I made that day. Each bead was threaded in those last precious minutes with him. Each bracelet represents the almost holiness of the room in which one of the men I loved most breathed, in and out, in and out, in and out, during those last minutes and hours.

"Like a rosary," my friend said, when I told her about it on the phone today. Yes, I guess it's a bit like that. All I know is that those bracelets are more sacred than almost anything I own. The cost of the materials was under $5 but those simple purple bands are now priceless.

Yesterday I was going through some emotional pain, but I also had several friends on my mind, all of whom are also suffering pain of different kinds that I feel helpless to ease. And then I remembered the bracelets I made while keeping vigil beside Pop Pop's bed. I pulled my string and beads out again with an idea.

For hours I sat on my bed stringing bright pink beads on elastic string, one by one, and with each bead that I added, I said something either aloud or in my head. Prayers of a sort, at times. Expressions of love. Each bracelet represented a person, and it took a good five to ten minutes to string each one, so I was able to say many, many things to and for each person that I had in mind.

At first I "prayed" one bracelet for the several friends whose pain I am so aware of. Then I kept going and made more for others in my life. Things I see in them. What I hope for them. How sorry I am for hurting them. Thanking them for being in my life.

The sentiments that came to mind or out of my mouth as I threaded the elastic through each and every bead were things like:

"You are so strong and I want so much for you to feel that strength."
"I am so sorry; I was doing what I thought best but now I see that I hurt you so much."
"I hope you can have the courage to take the next step in your journey, no matter what others think."
"I love your sensitivity and cuddly little girl ways."
"I'm sorry I have made you feel that you are too much."
"I want to mirror you to yourself so you can see how gorgeous you are."
"I want you to walk your journey, even if it's away from me."
"You love so fiercely."
"I don't know where I'd be without your friendship."
"I want for you to have a 'nest' of your own making."
"I wish you could see my 'I'm sorry' in my eyes."
"I love you so much."
"When I imagine you acting and living without fear, I weep, because you have NO IDEA how bright you shine."

Those are just a few of the things I "prayed," for lack of a better term. Tears poured down my cheeks through most of the minutes I spent doing this. And then as I tied the end of each finished bracelet to itself to form the bracelet, I said, "I tie myself to you. I love you. I will always love you. I will never stop loving you."

The exercise of doing this was one of the most moving experiences I've had in a long time. The words that came out were words that said what I have thought and felt about these dear ones, but in many cases, never verbalized. I was also startled to find that some of the feelings I had toward those I was praying to/for had never even come to the surface of my consciousness until then. I was saddened that, though I try so hard to mirror those I love to themselves, that they might see what I see and feel what I feel as I experience them, I have not said MOST of the things to them that I found myself saying to their bracelets.

Today I've worn the bracelets and have felt a funny closeness to each one of those people for whom I made a bracelet. The things I said to them are things that, in many cases, I am going to find an opportunity to tell these dear ones, as soon as I can. Though I stopped praying to "God" years ago, I have for awhile now told friends and family that I "hold them in my thoughts," and I do. Often I imagine pulling them into an embrace. Some say they can "feel" that, even from far away. All I know is that it feels like loving them. Making these bracelets in the way I did felt not just like an embrace of them, but like an intimate conversation with them and their spirits, and it felt so good and so right.

Love

I sit quietly with an empty cup that is waiting to be filled with your pain
I send my excuses to bed early and sit up late to rock your hurt until it can sleep
I stand ready with my needle threaded if you bring me what is torn
I listen for the slightest murmur from your side of the door
I watch for you to turn and look, my hands out to receive whatever is in your eyes
I hold my regret and remorse patiently and persistently, with no eye on the clock
I keep a seat in the garden with a soft pillow to lean against if ever you stop by
I wrap friendship in a package and place it in your path...and leave it there

Sherbert & Sepia ~ A Fabric & Paper Scrapbook

Another paper and fabric altered art book for sale HERE in my etsy shoppe.

Bits of "Threads"

"...'Today as I pulled thread through fabric, and then held the fabric out so that I could see the project I’m slowly stitching on in its entirety, imagining what someone else might think if they saw it, and if they would see the beauty I see, I realized there is something about creating a beautiful thing, something that no one has ever seen before, but that pulls on the viewer's heart or appeals to their soul in some new way, that has always had a curious power over me."

I looked up and met Ellie's eyes. They were intent in a way that surprised me. I was expecting her to be listening, of course, but I hadn't expected the silent 'answer' in her eyes, or the deep feeling of connection her eyes communicated, and not just me to her, but her to me. She was really listening in a way that made me wonder if anyone had ever been listening to me before now. She nodded, encouraging me to continue.

"There are only a couple things besides that that have such power over me," I went on, looking up at her to see if she was still tracking with me. Her brown eyes told me she was.

"One is ... knowing I affect someone else, that something about me draws them in. I am undone by the knowing that, in someone’s eyes, I am uniquely beautiful, and that under their gaze I glow or shine.  I guess this is not that dissimilar from my desire for my art to be appreciated. One is a craving to be seen by someone and found beautiful; the other is a desire for something I’ve made to be beheld by someone and found beautiful."

I stopped, realizing I'd been staring into my coffee cup as I spoke. I looked up again and was surprised to see her eyes were watery. My words had moved her in some way.  

"What does this mean, Ellie?" I asked her, not really expecting an answer. "Perhaps this makes me uniquely insecure and needy. Perhaps it means I’m an artist. I’m sure it means I’m human.'"

Love is a Bucket

Love is
Lowering the bucket of my soul
Into the depths of the well of you,
Allowing my soul to be filled up
With that water that is
Deepest and
Lowest and
Truest in you,
And then fetching it back up,
Pouring in into a cup I made with my hands,
And raising it up to your mouth,
So that you may taste what I taste.

And Love is also this:
Doing so, not knowing
The outcome,
But filled with a desire to see your eyes light up
When you taste what I taste
That is greater than
My fear that you will not
Love me in return.

Today

Feeling a lot of love for my sweet friends, several of whom are hurting today. Wish we could all just put our burdens, responsibilities and jobs aside for a day and hang out together somewhere peaceful, quiet and just-warm-enough. We'd eat pinic lunches, pick wildflowers, laugh our heads off, cry if we needed to and hug one another. We would lay on a blanket, watch the clouds and listen to the sounds around us. We'd find a little creek, take our shoes off and wade in. And then when the day faded and the stars came out, we'd have a delicious alfresco dinner under the stars with good wine and plenty of cheese and chocolate. And though we can't actually pull that off in real life, maybe we can feel some of the sweetness of that kind of day as we move through "real life." I hope you can imagine my hug, friends, know you are loved and breathe that love into your heart.

Find this pic here.

Jesus & The Starbucks Connection

I don't claim to be a Christian anymore, but that doesn't mean I don't think about the faith I grew up in. In fact I think about it a lot. Write about it a lot, as you know if you stop by here with any frequency. Often I write in my sadness and anger, looking back at a former set of beliefs that hurt me in more ways than it added to me. I've left evangelical Christianity behind, but I think it would be easier for some people to believe that because I say I'm not a Christian, that that means I hate God, don't believe there is a God or have completely stopped thinking about God.

Fact is, I'm not a Christian and I think about God a lot.

I especially respect the person of Jesus as represented in the Bible. His interaction with people, especially those the religious establishment of his day judged, wrote off, condemned, rejected and abandoned is simply beautiful to me.

I'm not a Christian and I think about Jesus a lot.

Jesus, according to the Biblical account of his life, interacted with people in some really incredible ways. He connected with the people they WERE, rather than asking them to change, telling them they should change, or even asking them to emulate his own actions and behaviors. When Jesus interacted with people, he effectively made a "place" between the people he was talking to and himself. A place where they could sit down together with no shame and no hiding of their true selves. He understood the context of their pain. He saw THEM and didn't define them by their actions or behaviors.

That "place" he created for himself and whoever he was relating to was what he called "The Kingdom of Heaven." It wasn't like a lot of our experiences of "church" where you have to dress up, hide your pain, pretend you are "better" than you are and act like you have it together. Jesus, over and over, looked for and saw the REAL person underneath the behavior, actions and pain, related to and loved unconditionally THAT person. The connection between Jesus and the person he was relating to was for many the first time they had ever been utterly naked AND utterly loved and accepted. That's exactly how I want to be loved and how I want to love others.

But what was going on in those moments? I think I know. This wasn't all about God being able to magically see into people's hearts. That may or may not have also been going on. But I think to only define Jesus' treatment of others by that "divinity" would be a grave error. He seemed to think others were capable to doing the same. So what is it that he was doing that we are also able to do?

I think it was simply that Jesus approached connection with others with the expectation/goal of seeing through the shit to the real person and loving THAT person. I think it's that simple. He was living proof that the religious way of approaching people with a, "Are you 'good' or 'bad?' I get to decide," attitude was not loving and had no place in the kingdom of heaven. He simply saw. And he loved. Period.

So what was happening that created such a "real" connection between Jesus and those he interacted with? I've been thinking a lot lately about how, when we accidentally or on purpose connect with someone outside an established human construct, we often feel and experience a "connection" that we wouldn't normally. That connection is, at least in my mind, usually of a spiritual nature. Something happens when we are connecting with someone in a way that isn't governed by rules, norms or standards. It's almost as though we can sneak in a backdoor, by-passing the part of our brains that says, "Act like this; talk like this; this person is that; this interaction is limited to ..."

It happens in Starbucks sometimes. You might be sitting there in a sunny spot, watching stranger after stranger walk by, but then one stops and asks if they can share your table since the others are all filled. Every once in awhile that thing happens where two people move from strangers to people who "see" the other one in a matter of minutes, simply because they shared a table at Starbucks.

It happened in the streets of Christchurch, New Zealand a few weeks ago during the earthquake, and then again in the aftermath of the tsunamis in Japan. Strangers clung to on another in a sudden, illogical intimacy as they stood in the streets and watched helplessly while family, friends and colleagues were crushed or drowned. All of a sudden two people who would normally have no reason to even speak to one another spontaneously joined hands and cried into one another's shoulders. People who would never have helped one another because of gaps in age, gender, socio-economic level, etc. became one another's very real saviours, friends, brothers.

It happened in my family when one of my sisters gave her son up for adoption nearly 8 years ago. It is an open adoption, which means our entire family has a real relationship with my nephew and his adoptive family. Open adoption is new enough that there aren't "rules" for how to do it. We've made them up as we've gone along, following heart rather than head, without even meaning to or realizing we're doing it. While others would think we "lost" my nephew to another family, the reality has been that we "gained" a sister and brother "in-law," a second nephew and two extra nieces. My kids have an extra aunt and uncle, as well as extra cousins. There's no map, no rules and no "optimum result" besides my nephew being loved. That's it. So much beauty has grown out of what could have been a heart-wrenching loss.

Sometimes we experience this connection with someone else in the beginning stages of a romantic relationship. Often times it is at that "love is blind" stage of a relationship that we are able to see the "real," the good and the beauty in a person simply because we WANT to see it and are looking for it.

But my husband and I have experienced it in moments we'd never have expected it, as we sort through the anger, hurt, sadness and disappointment of our marriage. Our love isn't blind anymore, and in fact, the eyes with which we see all too clearly now often brim with tears. We're working through some serious shit in our relationship. It hurts like hell. But sometimes after hours of agonizing conversation, we find ourselves laughing through tears about some silly thing totally unconnected to the bitter pain that is still wet on our cheeks. In those moments of half-hysterical hilarity, we see in one another the old Cheryl and James that stood on the balcony of a pink house all those years ago, watching the stars 'til the sun came up. Sometimes the giggles lead to a tearful embrace and for a few minutes, the pain is gone and it's just ... "us," however impossibly, connecting.

Wherever or however it happens, we've all felt it to some degree. And I guess I'm just asking if maybe those "moments"—those connections—whether for a brief time or a lifetime, are what life is all about. I'm asking if maybe Jesus was living like that. I'm wondering what would happen if we intentionally lived like this, as much as possible.

How much in our lives and in our world would change if we lifted the human "constructs" off and just looked around at one another with eyes like Jesus'?

I'll Meet You in the Field

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing, there is a field. I will meet you there.” ~Jalal ad-Din Rumi

Somehow I know that it's there in that field that I'll find the Tree of Life that Adam and Eve felt "driven away from." The "good" and the "bad" sorting system will collapse and it will just be...us. To imagine the sort of love and connections we could have without that sorting system governing us is stunning. THAT, to me, would be "heaven." To not need to have sorting words in our vocabulary but to instead show ourselves as we truly are and see the beautiful truth of everyone else. And then to simply love one another. That would be home.

To Love Me is to Know Me

Question...

~Do you feel like you are understood by someone in your life? Like....reallllllllly understood?

Perhaps a couple better questions...

~Is there anyone you trust enough to show the real you?
~Have you ever shown anyone the real you?

And lastly...

~If you haven't shown anyone the real you, can you EVER really feel loved by anyone?
~If someone says they love you, but you know you've kept the real you hidden from them, is it possible to accept that person's love? 

Unconditional Love

“The test of friendship is assistance in adversity, and that too, unconditional assistance. Co-operation which needs consideration is a commercial contract and not friendship. Conditional co-operation is like adulterated cement which does not bind.”

-Mohandas Gandhi

What do you think about the above quote? Imagine your friend, who you love very much, is going through a painful time in their life and needs your help. What would you do?

Now imagine your friend has made a series of choices that, in your mind, at least, are exactly why he/she is in the pain, trouble or hardship they are now experiencing. Does that change what you would do?

Let's get more specific. What kind of hardship would your friend have to be going through for you to decide NOT to assist them? Here are a few possibilities that might pop into your head:

-Drug addiction
-Other addiction
-Having an extramarital affair
-Abusing someone close to them
-Breaking the law
-Knowingly hurting someone else

Regardless of what those things are, there are things that those who are close to us can do that would cause us to respond in ways that express our disaproval. We might start by gently telling them we are worried about their behavior/actions/choices. Sometimes we might express our disgust. We might feel we need to exercise "tough love." We may decide that ultimately, we have to back out of the relationship.

But where does "Tough Love" leave off and Judgment, Rejection and Conditional Love begin?

Is it possible that we could actually love without condition...meaning our love doesn't change, no matter what, EVEN IF someone we love is destroying their lives (or even others' lives) right in front of us? Is that love "too unconditional?" Is there such a thing?

One thing is certain: loving under those conditions, and especially loving in a present, there-for-you kind of way would be...well, messy.

But is that when love BECOMES unconditional...right at the point where it gets messy?

What do you think?

Religion: The DVD

I would not say I’m an atheist and I resist labeling myself as an agnostic, mostly because I can’t stand labels anymore. But I definitely am not a Christian. I’m at a place where I no longer feel the need to believe or disbelieve anything. I know what I’m experiencing. I’m honest about it. I don’t need to label it. I don’t need to change or move. I’m where I’m at.

Because the shifts that have gradually occurred in me didn’t happen overnight, I think it’s important to write about the various stages I went through in the deconstruction of my Christianity. I know I am not alone in the feelings I have or had, but I often feel like there is a lot written from a Christian stand-point and a lot written from an atheist or agnostic paradigm, but not a lot written about the “process” people go through in between. What about the places in between belief and unbelief? Lots of people are there, but unless they read something about someone else’s similar experience or feelings, they inevitably feel alone.

Who do you talk to about the “in-between” places? Sometimes it feels like everyone – Christians and atheists, alike – would have you “hurry up and get on board, already!” There has to be a place for the process. In fact, I think I always WILL be in process and I don’t see myself ever pigeon-holing myself as “this” or “that.” I want to just be where I’m at and be honest about it, from here on out.

In the effort to talk about the in-between places, I’d like to share something I wrote about a year ago, when some questions began to surface that I think are important in the “deconstruction” process for a lot of people. Where I was at the time, it made sense to me to frame them like this:

Winter 2008 –

What if religion is the world’s effort to package up God in a manner we can offer to another at arms' length...we don't have to get too close, don't have to get the weepy, hurting friend's runny mascara on our clean shirts and we don't have to love in a palpable way that makes a difference in their circumstances?

After all, we aren't loved that way by others, so why should we get messy for someone else when no one is getting messy for us? Religion was handed to us at arm's length.

Many of us received religion as a neat and tidy package we didn’t dare unwrap. Religion was like a DVD still in the package we based our whole lives on even though we never opened or watched it ourselves.

Everybody we know gives and receives the same DVD in its' sealed form; we have forgotten there is something inside. Instead we talk about the DVD as if we've watched it. We repeat the little summary from the back cover, talking and acting as though we have seen it ourselves, when in fact we have not. We, along with our fellow-unopened-DVD owners, make special clubs we advertise as a place to talk about the DVD in depth. Instead, the clubs all go the same way: everyone repeating the description from the back cover in all the same ways. We forget the DVD is anything but the package it's inside of.

We all feel a vague discomfort- a feeling that there is something missing. Every once in awhile we might have a tiny flash of insight: what if we open up the DVD and actually watch it? What if, when we watch it, we find the story is different than our simple little clubs had interpreted it as being? What if, after actually watching it for ourselves, we can no longer stomach the "pat" conversation at our clubs? What then? This line of thinking is so uncomfortable, we more often than not push it from our minds.

We are too busy, too tired, too....afraid. We know deep inside that watching the DVD would change our lives, change our relationships, change how we do things. We, like the rich young ruler Jesus challenged to actually act on his beliefs, are willing to buy and distribute copies of the DVD to the world, stand in front of crowds and recite the blurb on the back cover and attend every single club meeting discussing the DVD. But open it up and watch it, knowing it could potentially change everything...hell, no. That is far too scary.

We give this same DVD to our children. We teach our impressionable children to memorize the blurb on the back of the DVD. We at least imply, and sometimes overtly teach, that if our children and/or other DVD-less acquaintances do not take the DVD we offer them and attend the discussion clubs, they will quite possibly go to hell. They are made to understand that if that happens, they are in danger of losing not only God's approval, but perhaps even our love.

When our children reach an age where they begin to think independently, they of course begin to doubt the "magical powers" of the DVD we touted: the rest of the world is watching all sorts of interesting DVDs, talking about them and don't live with the fear and numbed-out brains our children inherited from us. Why should they risk opening and watching the DVD for themselves; they already know the basic plot by rote, thank you very much, and they're frankly not impressed. Everywhere they look people are living their lives and watching fascinating DVDs.

And even if they had the gumption to open and watch the DVD we gave them, they'd likely meet with disapproval from us, as well as from our clubs, anyway. So why bother? It's much easier, more attractive and less of a bother to dump our DVD entirely and just subscribe to Netflix like everyone else in the world. Who cares what the movies the world watches are about; at least they WATCH them!!

What if we watched the DVD rather than leaving it unwrapped and having silly, shallow discussion groups about what someone else decided to say ABOUT the movie? What if we watch the movie, running the risk that it could change us? What if we were always meant to live in the truth the movie so beautifully pictures? What if there is no need for clubs? After all, why talk about watching it with other people, when we could be WATCHING it with other people?

Perhaps God created the movie TO change us as we watch it. If so, we shouldn't be standing arm's length from people, telling them ABOUT the movie and expecting them to be changed because they know what it's about. What if it's a movie only appreciated, only understood and only life-changing because the individual watches it themselves?

Perhaps watching the DVD yourself rather than basing your life on someone's tidy little summary would mean that the movie relates differently, personally and specifically to each individual. What if God made this movie specifically for each person, knowing exactly what that person needed to hear, see and feel? To give someone my interpretation or tell them about my experience is only helpful if they have already experienced it and been impacted by it in the way that is specific to them. If they already know the movie, they would enjoy hearing how it impacted me, what was personal to me and the individualized message I uncovered in it.

Perhaps the main difference between reading the description on the back cover and actually watching it myself is, quite simply, love. I can be told I am loved every day and twice on Sundays but until I am loved in a palpable, personal, wipe-your-snot-on-my-new-sweater-while-I-listen-to-you kind of way, others' statements of love are worth nothing to me; in fact their emptiness eventually hurts so much, I numb out to it. And yet, am I doing anything different when it comes to my interactions with others?

To be handed the DVD while the person offering it sits and watches the DVD-less person's child cry because she's hungry is insensitive and even hateful. And you better believe that when that person shouts, "goodbye!" over the deafening cries of that hungry child, the DVD-less person will be throwing their DVD, unopened, into the next rubbish bin. If she is given a DVD about African salamanders, while the cries of her child and her own tears rolling down her cheeks are ignored, the giver is worse than those that walked right by her, pretending they don't see her plight. In her world of pain, she has no use for DVDs...doesn't matter whether they are about salamanders or love. Same thing in her reality. The tidy giver doesn't see her; he or she doesn't care. They just want to go back to their happy little club and tell all their buddies how many DVDs they distributed this week.

"She wasn't very receptive," he or she will tell their friends, when asked about what the person they offered the DVD to did and said when given the DVD. These friends shake their carefully-coiffed heads sadly.

"We'll just pray that she looks at it. That's all God asks of us, after all," they say. "We've planted the seed..."

How despicable is it to distribute a DVD about love in an unloving way. We might as well replace the real cover with a new one that is entitled, "Fuck You." At least that cover is honest about what the giver really thinks and feels about the person who doesn't own the DVD. I know for a fact that such a person would rather they just ignored her. But instead we shout over the sounds of her cries what will happen to her if she continues to refuse what we are offering.

What if we just toss the DVD altogether? Or maybe we watch the DVD ourselves and then put it away. What if we meet one another, DVD-less, and simply offer the compassion, support, acceptance and love we all want? Who needs to watch a DVD about something when they can experience it themselves? I enjoy a good love story, but I'd much rather experience one than watch a movie about it.

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This article was published in today's "ExChristian.Net" and you can find it HERE.

National Back to Church Sunday: The Conversation

It's National Back to Church Sunday and I'd like to link to some posts by bloggers about their experience of today. I'll add them to the list below as I become aware of them. Please send me your link if you'd like to be included in this list (cherylensomdack@gmail.com):

Greg Albrecht (Plain Truth Ministries/Christianity Without the Religion): "Back-to-Church Sunday?"
Kristin Tennant: "'Why church?' is the wrong question"
Glenn Hager: "Back to Church"
Me: "Dis-churched on National Back to Church Sunday"
Melissa: "What Worship Means to Me"
Susan Isaacs (author of Angry Conversations with God):  "Back to Church"

A Friend

"Friendship is the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person having neither to weigh thoughts or measure words, but pouring all right out just as they are, chaff and grain together, certain that a faithful friendly hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping and, with a breath of comfort, blow the rest away." -Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

Friends Forever....a fabric book

"She unwrapped the brown paper parcel, beautifully tied with pink velvet ribbon and smiled at her friend. "I'm so excited!" she said as she set the paper and ribbon aside.

She pulled layers of peach pink tissue paper and tuling aside until the gift lay on her lap. She gasped and tears filled her eyes. "

*****************************************


This fabric book started as a simple canvas "book" altered by hand to be a special heirloom honoring the beauty of friendship. Details abound..."pockets" for tucking special photos, letters or keepsakes into, pretty vintage and new papers, antique lace, vintage millinery, a vintage ad, rhinestone earring, vintage sheet music, an old key and so much more. The perfect gift for a dear friend. You can write something on every page or you can leave it blank for her to write in.

You will also receive a "tea"-colored fabric pen for writing directly on the fabric, if you desire.

The book is approximately 6x7" and has 10 pages. If you are interested in purchasing this book, please go HERE.

The Real Me

First, watch this:



Now watch it again, but imagine sitting on a bench with the wounded, aching, afraid-to be-herself YOU. She's sitting there with a veil over her face, hunched over, alone no matter how many people are around her. The real HER is never o.k. to show to others; the real HER has been rejected far too many times; the real HER has fucked up too many times to count.

But you see HER.

And now listen to the song again, but change the lyrics to this, and imagine addressing that veiled YOU there on the bench:

Foolish heart looks like we're here again (fond smile, stroking her head)
Same old game of plastic smile
Don't let anybody in (tip her chin up to look at you)
Hiding your heartache
Will this glass house break?
How much will they take
Before you're empty?
YOu're scared to let it show?
Does anybody know?

Chorus:
But I see the real YOU
Hiding in your skin
Broken from within
I unveil you completely (lift her veil and look deep into her eyes)
Now you can loosen your grasp
There's no need to mask your frailty
Oh, Cause I see the real you

Painted on
Your life lived behind a mask
Self-inflicted circus clown
You're tired of the song and dance
Living a charade
Always on parade (lift the burden on her back off of her and pull her toward you)
What a mess you feel you've made of your existence
But I love you even now
And still I see somehow

Chorus:
I see the real YOU
Hiding in your skin,
Broken from within
I unveil you completely
You're loosening your grasp
There's no need to mask your frailty
Oh, Cause I see the real YOU

Bridge:
Wonderful, beautiful
Is what I see
When I look at YOU
You're turning the tattered fabric of your life into
A perfect tapestry

Oh, I know you just wanna be you
You wanna be YOU

Chorus
And I see the real YOU
Hiding in your skin
Broken from within
I unveil you completely
You're loosening your grasp
There's no need to mask your frailty
Oh, Cause I see the real YOU
And I love you
Just as you are
Wonderful, beautiful
Is what I see
When I look at YOU.

That's powerful, isn't it? Why?

But let's take it one step further. Can I put someone else that I love on that bench in front of me and sing that to THEM? Give them permission to be THEM, messes and all? Can I just love them, without trying to change them? Can I choose to trust that there's a real THEM inside that is longing to be loved with a love that never leaves, no matter what, and respond to it with simple, abandoned love?

We all know that our projection of ourselves being loved is NOT the same thing as the REAL US being loved. I want to have the courage to show my real self AND accept the real self of the person in front of me. And what will happen there is love...real love...that we are all longing for.

________________
If you drawn to the spirit behind this post, I invite you to read this post from earlier this year. Same spirit.

More on "Understanding"

Thinking more about this topic and just have a simple question:

What do you most wish that someone in your life understood?

Let me elaborate just a bit. In my experience a lot of pain comes from feeling misunderstood. Broken relationships can often be traced back to someone grossly misunderstanding something about the other person.

Yesterday I felt some serious discomfort upon finding out that I have been misunderstood by someone in my life, perhaps for years. Immediately, I felt defensive, hurt and even angry. The questions swirling in my mind were along the lines of: don't you know me better than that? does that sound like something I would do? what kind of a person do you think I am?

So I had to take a look at that. Why did that bother me so much? On the surface I felt mostly offended. But what's underneath that?

It's the pain of feeling misunderstood. I don't need a therapist to tell me why it's painful to feel misunderstood. We interact with others and we develop relationships in which we feel safe and part of that safety comes from knowing we are seen for who we are and loved. When I feel most loved (i.e. safe) I feel that someone sees to the center of who I am...the REAL ME...and loves that Cheryl. I am then...well, SAFE.

The opposite of course is feeling unloved...unsafe. That's why it's so painful to find out that someone with whom I've shared myself, who has experienced me, who I trusted to see me as I am, misunderstands me. There is an immediate flash of fear...WHO have they been experiencing all this time? It wasn't ME. They've been experiencing another version of me, not seeing who I really am. I trusted them with myself, believing that they truly saw/loved me; to find out they didn't when I thought they did is just plain painful.

So back to my question. But think about it in a slightly different way. What makes you feel teary or emotional when you imagine that person in your life really "getting" you, seeing you, understanding you? I can think of a few people/situations that make me want to sob.

If that person could somehow understand what I was feeling when I did what I did....
If this other person wanted (really, truly wanted) to understand the pain I was feeling when....
If that person met me with a desire to understand ME, not approve of everything about me...

Of course I can't make that happen. If I've learned anything, it's that we don't understand one another unless we WANT TO. I can't force someone (or even ASK them to, really) to want to understand me.

But there is something I can do. Something you can do. It isn't easy. It's not comfy. It stings a little because it means putting ourselves out there with no guarantee we will be "met" in a reciprocal way.

We can approach people in our lives with an honest desire to understand them.

We can say things like:
"What do you wish I understood?"
"I want to understand how you felt. I won't say anything in response. I just want to hear how you felt and what you experienced."
"I have no desire to change you. I want to "get" you - the REAL YOU."

Typing those sentences makes me cry. Why? Because if someone approached me with that sort of desire to understand ME...it would utterly change the inside of me, help to heal wounds in a way nothing else can and make me feel loved in a way nothing else would.

So I want to give that to others. Not wait for them to reciprocate. Not expect them to do that for me in return. But freely give that to them.

I know, I know...that's hard as hell. But isn't that love, after all? Seeing the one who hurt you curled up in a ball of pain and rushing toward them with comfort you have the power to give, even if they don't comfort you in return? I don't mean lying down and taking more abuse from them. I don't mean sitting there while they tell you how rotten they think you are. That's not what I mean. It is offering an ear, an open mind, an open heart and a desire to understand the other person....with no conditions.

If we all did this, I can't help but think our world would be an utterly different place. I can't know that for sure, but I do know it would most certainly change ME. And YOU.

The End of Suffering...

A Buddhist friend told me that, "Right understanding is the end of suffering." Not pain, of course. Suffering. Jesus said, "The truth will set you free."

I've been thinking about this a lot. I see over and over the way this is true. If I have the courage to say what I really feel, think and want, and then live out of that, I am experiencing relationships with others in ways I never have before. Old wounds are healed I thought were impossible to heal.

When I want to understand others, my view of them falls away and I see them as they are, usually more like me than different. When we want to understand one another and we walk into a conversation or interaction with acceptance and love for one another, no matter what, something amazing happens. There is a connection. Something clicks. Something falls into place. New things happen. A sort of richness of relationship that is different than anything I've encountered before.

I have realized as I've left behind religion the way I experienced it that I truly never learned to trust myself. Or others, really. The Bible says, "the heart is deceitful above all things and desperately wicked. Who can know it?" I believed that literally. So I grew up believing that if I am honest, if I really listen to what I feel, if I go after what I want, etc. I will end up in the very pit of hell and probably drag a few dozen others along with me in the process! I simply didn't (don't still in many ways) trust myself. It's been and continues to be a process of learning to listen to the real me inside, and then, gradually, learn to trust that.

It was as though I had these muscles inside of me that had never developed or even atrophied from lack of use; Christianity told me I wasn't allowed to use them or that I didn't even HAVE them. I was deeply and totally BAD inside, I read and heard. The only goodness I was capable was when I tapped into/surrendered to God, who, if my heart was right, would infuse his own goodness into me. But I'm finding that that's just not true. I am finding "God" (goodness, truth, compassion, love) inside of ME. Not "out there." Not infused by a sky god who is separate from me and must be appealed to.

It's not changing who I am; it's uncovering who I am.
It's not ignoring the inside of me; it's falling back into it.
It's not a big "clean-up"; it's a peeling off of layers or a birth of something inside of me.

Now I am going through some "physical therapy," I guess! Learning what those muscles, that were there all along, are and do. Strengthening them. Letting blood flow into them. The book/film, "The Secret Garden" is a beautiful allegory of all of this growth and change for me.

Watch for:
-Letting light flood into dark places.
-Truth being revealed and lies being dispelled.
-The miracles that happen as we say the way things really are, challenge what we've been told is true and walk boldly into places we thought we couldn't.
-The way other people in our lives can BE the courage we don't have sometimes.
-Old, desolate places being uncovered, opened and cut back until a beauty that was there all along is revealed.
-Suffering ending.
-Muscles being found and what happens when they begin to strengthen.

As you watch the clips from "The Secret Garden" below, what else do you see/feel/hear/notice? What causes a warmth in your tummy as you see or hear it? What brings tears to your eyes? What do you find yourself wanting to have, to do, to see? What causes something that feels like what someone striking the lowest chords on a piano sounds like?



and then...