TAKE ME TO CHURCH

Thinking about Jesus today.  I heard this song yesterday on the radio (Take Me to Church) and I love it so much.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MYSVMgRr6pw

Then, early this morning I was surprised by....church!

Hub and I woke up to a rainy Easter morning today on Kauai.  I threw on a sundress and headed to the Terrace downstairs where breakfast is served to grab our mugs of free Kauai Coffee and pick up the newspaper  -- my morning routine.   But when I stepped off the elevator I was struck by a loud "rock" band playing something Jesus-y in the Courtyard.

I peeked 'round the corner to see nearly 200 people packed onto folding chairs at an Easter Sunrise Service.  I was greeted with a huge smile and an invitation to take a seat.  I demurred, but stood in the back, rapt with attention to this spectacle.  I watched as more and more people joined, as greeters hugged and shook hands, as the childrens' choir (preschool to teenagers) sang like angels.  The guest preacher, from Seattle!, gave a pretty standard Easter message befitting the Evangelical bent of this brand of Christianity, including the altar call to those ready to surrender their lives to Jesus.  (No takers on this Easter morning, but many likely had already done that judging by hands raised in the air during song and prayer.)  The pastor hammered home the God is Great message and assured everyone that no matter the harshness of life on earth, "the last will be first in Heaven" and "Jesus is with you!  God is waiting for you!"  This elicited some Amens and raised arms in praise of the Lord.  Everyone was smiling!  Some were crying.  The music swelled.  A local pastor stepped up to invite everyone who "wants more Jesus today!" to come to a 10:00 a.m. service at a local church with lunch served afterward -- featuring his own mother's Home Cooking!

I tell ya, I get it.  The showmanship and message of love and relief from suffering is an affecting one. I thought back to my Christian upbringing at first in the friendly Methodist church of my childhood, then the more austere brand of Protestantism of my Lutheran years after marrying into a conservative Lutheran family and being expected to become one of them.  Then we swerved left and attended a Congregationalist church for awhile, before finding Unitarian Universalism.  Easter Sunday was a favorite worship experience in all of those earlier Christian denominations.  What's not to like about petticoats, patent leather shoes, and Hallelujahs?

But "Take Me to Church" (partly about the Church's punishment of homosexuality) also reminds me of the hypocrisy, the judgements, the literal (and sort of made up) interpretations of the Bible and Jesus' teachings that turned me away from the Christian church.  When a certain brand of Christianity became intertwined with political conservatism I became judge-y too.  How could two diametrically opposed worldviews exist in one entity?  Feed the poor = cut food assistance.  Welcome the stranger = close our borders.   Care for the sick and vulnerable = gut healthcare.  Serve the poor = subsidize billion dollar corporations.

But this is Easter.  It is a time to reflect on a New Beginning.  Jesus was a new beginning in his time and I take his example as the meaning of this day.  Appropriated from the Pagan rituals of renewal and regrowth, fertility and abundance, Jesus is said to have risen from the dead.  (Maybe.  Jon Snow did it...Game of Thrones reference for the uninitiated; also a handsome guy, as all movie Jesus' are as well.)  If he did it then, I truly wish he'd come on back again now and take a look at what is being said and done in his name.  (I'd like his return to NOT be accompanied by that whole Rapture thing...messy.)  Maybe we'd find out this is exactly what he intended.  Or maybe he'd lead the Resistance, as he did in his day.

After Christian Church I joined Hub in practicing Qigong on the beach (Ancient Chinese ); I did today's Oprah/Deepak recorded meditation on Hope (Vedic tradition); I chanted along with my favorite Kirtan artists: Krishna Das, Jai Uttal, Gina Sala (Tantric, Vedic, Hindu); I watched Valerie Kaur on YouTube (Sihk).

And  I will hold the lessons of the Fierce and Gentle Jesus I believe he was, and try to be more like that.  My "religion" is eclectic and curious, finding the common Capital "L" Love (thanks for that, Gina) in each practice.  With this Love as guide,  I renew my urge to find the courage to resist wrongs,  to find gratitude in every day, to see the Divine in all, and to sing Hallelujah! for this gift of life.  May we all RISE UP in Love in service to the greater good.  Amen.

At least, that's the view from here.... ©

Photo Credit: A painting by R. (Richard) Hook

RITUAL HEALING

I've been away for a few days; took a respite from the responsibilities of home, from the non-stop political news with which I'm a bit obsessed, and went west -- all the way west -- to the shores of the Pacific Ocean where the bright sun shone down providing welcome autumn warmth, where the long expanse of deserted sandy beach recorded my footsteps, wandering in aimless wonder at the vast and powerful waves crashing into land, and where driftwood logs gave comfort to weary legs as I sat and contemplated the task I was undertaking.

I was not on vacation exactly.  I'd come to a "Mending Our Broken Hearts" retreat.

It's been just over a year since I left my once beloved church home.  I've written about this before:  http://myviewfromhere-donna.blogspot.com/2015/08/stepping-back.html

and especially http://myviewfromhere-donna.blogspot.com/2015/11/end-of-era.html

Every time I thought I was well and truly "over it", something would pop up that would re-ignite the hurt and rage I felt about the whole debacle, or as one friend has termed it, "The Great Unraveling".   More than anything, I longed for peace from the ongoing resentment, hurt, and confusion I felt about what happened and my reaction to it.  I needed so much to put it behind me and move on.

The retreat was a time to create sacred space for doing ritual.  I truly believe in the transformative power of this type of work.  I've done a ton of experiential personal growth work -- beating on pillows or screaming in rage to express a well of inner anger; acting out "scenes" to access deep feelings about incidents in life that still nag, talking to someone to whom things need to be said by imagining them in the chair across from you -- or choosing a volunteer to play the part of the listener or other "actor(s)" in a life drama; doing trust falls, being held in a group cradle, being sung to...

Yes, I know many of you may be laughing and finding it all so "woo-woo" silly.  My guess that most of the laughter and judgment comes from those who have never done it, never experienced the power of intentional healing through experiencing any number and types of rituals that you can feel in your body, healing the heart and the soul.  This is not "talk therapy" where intellectual "a-ha's" may come up..."Oh!  I never thought of that!"  Experiential personal growth work doesn't rely on puzzling your way to insight while sitting on a chair talking.  It shoves you off the cliff, challenged with love and skill, until your heart finds wing.  The relief is palpable, the healing cleansing, the tools gained invaluable.

This retreat wasn't as dramatic as all that, but it was a time for creating ritual and a time to find closure and renewal.   We gathered on Friday, got settled, walked on the beach, spent time in silence.  Then we made a plan for the weekend -- the group created the flow, decided on how the rituals would unfold, set an "agenda" of sorts.  After dinner we began a round of "checking in" by speaking about what we wanted to heal and to leave behind; what were the "stuck, hurt places" still causing us pain.  It was very moving to hear how deeply felt the hurts were.  There were tears, anger, exhaustion.

Saturday morning there was a time of exploring the Enneagram Types -- similar to the more popular Myers-Briggs personality test.  I love these things because they are so accurate in explaining the differences in how people respond to common or shared experiences in such different ways depending upon personality type.  I was able to see so clearly how my own Enneagram Type, my own personality traits, and childhood experiences led me to feel so deeply hurt by what had transpired, why I (and not others) could no longer remain in an environment from which I felt so alienated, and even how my own journey of "leaving" was for reasons often quite different from others who'd also left.  And, I saw that others were not "wrong" to remain, just acting from a different set of basic needs and personality constructs.  (NOTE: Whether great or small, these early emotional "wounds" of childhood never completely go away and continue to inform how we respond to life, ever the more so if we are unaware of or deny them.)

In the afternoon we all set to work creating our "letting go of the past" ritual.  We had brought along things that represented that which we wanted to let go of -- for me it was agendas, emails, reports, lists, rosters, organizational materials, testimonials...lots and lots of written materials.  I cut these into pieces to be burned in our ritual fire on the beach.   In a time of silence we also created a group collage of photos and words that represented that which we were leaving behind.  Attached to this were long pieces of woven yarn, one for each of us, that we would cut, to represent "cutting the cord" to the past.   We gathered up all these supplies and headed to the beach.  A fire was built in a hollowed out place near a large stand of driftwood.  We took turns adding our papers to the fire, sending the work I'd done with so much care and hope into the earth as ash, the flames burning hotter as the fire grew larger.  Some said words appropriate to what they were letting go as they added their own fuel to the fire.


At the end of this burning, we suspended the collage over the fire.  So many images and words there
spoke so strongly to my experience of both the joys and sorrows, the gratitude and grief, I felt toward my church experience that tears flowed as I read the words I'd written, expressing my deep gratitude for my time in that community as well as my deep disillusionment with it.  I spoke of my desire to let go, to move on, and finally to wish the community well as they move into the future too.  Cutting that cord was a profound moment, and almost immediately I felt a sense of release and freedom from the emotions that had been pulling me under for over a year.  I felt my heart soar.

After the fire was put out we spent another hour on the beach, some walking, some sitting in silence, allowing this time in a wild and natural place to continue to heal.  That evening was also a time of individual contemplation, quiet conversation, a time for stargazing as the sky lit up with the Milky Way and familiar constellations, reminding us of the vastness with which we are surrounded.

Sunday morning we lazed about, taking our time over breakfast, reading, laughing, sharing a lightness of heart and spirit.  Then it was time to do the "moving into the future" part of the retreat.  Ironically, I had a led a day-long workshop at my church three years ago called "Creating a Personal Mission Statement" and had volunteered to lead this as part of the retreat.  I condensed it into a couple of hours and facilitated us through the various steps of finding our deepest desire for healing what might be an old wound or longing, writing a "statement of purpose" for our lives, and finally crafting a personal mission statement that one can use as a daily guide to determine if we are living  life with intention -- making the choices and doing the work that truly feeds our soul, keeps us in the flow, and heals the world by healing our own tattered hearts and living our best selves.

By late Sunday afternoon I felt a joyous exhaustion.  I felt happy and light, focused on the future, and relieved that every time I thought about the church and "The Great Unraveling", I felt neutral -- more grateful than angry about my time there; a degree of non-attached curiosity about what would be next for that community; wishing the best for those I still care about who remain there. I no longer felt the tethering pain, anger, humiliation, and shame that has been my emotional response for a year.  I felt rather like thinking about high school; I felt some amusement, cherished some happy memories, and acknowledged some sad ones, but all from a distance -- from a different time in my life.

Sunday night we went out to a casual seafood dinner and then gathered to laugh with abandon at the silly female-centered humor of a movie called "Sisters" with Tina Fey and Amy Poehler.  It felt good to just be goofy.  I slept like a rock and got up Monday morning to pack and say goodbye to the beach, feeling deep gratitude for the experience and eager to drive back to my home and to reunite with  Hub who had sent me off with such gentle and hopeful wishes for a healing journey.  And it was.

At least, that's the view from here....©

PS...Having written this yesterday and just re-reading it, I feel I must add a note to those who I know read this blog and still attend this church.  The "leaving behind" does NOT include friends and those I love.  Those relationships are precious and remain so.  I'm leaving behind the emotions about the  institution, the organization, my time there as a congregant and leader.  In fact, I feel even more tenderness now, after the ritual, for all we shared together.

INNER ADVENTURING

We got together with a bunch of dear, good friends on Saturday night.  We call ourselves "The Tribe".  It was a potluck gathering full of amazingly good food, lighthearted conversation, and lots of laughter.   Over dinner the conversation went in the direction of people sharing tales of their outdoor adventures -- the things they love to do, where they've done them, where they hope to do more of it.  Hiking, biking, camping, snorkeling, scuba diving, kayaking, skiing, snowboarding, boating; travels done or hoped for in the US, Europe, South America, Central America, SE Asia, China, India.

Regular readers of my blog will know how quiet I could have been during this conversation.   I do not particularly like outdoor adventuring, nor traveling.  This puts me in a club of severely limited membership in the Pacific Northwest where passions for these things seem to be a given.  (I fit with the bookstore/coffee shop crowd, who also are a common sight here, but most are just stopping by there in between adventures.)

In order to participate in the conversation, I joined in with my usual self-deprecating jokiness about my lack of Adventuring Gene, with a throw-away, dismissive comment aimed at myself about all of the things they love as something I would never do.  It was funny.  I laughed.  Everyone laughed.  I knew I was violating my therapist's admonition about putting myself down, but I thought I had a good handle on it.  Still, I ended up feeling like the "odd" woman out and not altogether great about it.  But not terrible either.  I thought I'd pulled it off.

Later in the evening the conversation took a turn toward touching on "the divorce".  Not mine and Hub's, but mine with my church.  (Again, I've written about this before, so I won't go into the details here, suffice to say, we split up last August.)  It has been a hard ten months since we parted.  Many don't understand why, many don't care, some hope we will reconcile, almost none understand the depth of hurt and introspection that has gone into diving deep inside myself to figure out how it happened, where I was culpable in the conflict, how we all might have behaved differently, whether I made the right decision, and why I cannot go back to a "partner" I still see as a bit dysfunctional, and with whom I have less and less in common...or at least not a common vision.  I'm trying to move on and find connections in a new and healthier way.   There ended up being maybe a teeny tiny bit of passion around expressing this at the social gathering.  I may have used the "F" word.

Debriefing with Hub the next morning, I allowed that I still seem to have a lot of pain and anger around the divorce and I need to do some more inner work to heal that negativity.  I said that the way I live my inner life, with my constant rumination, seeking to understand situations, other people, and mostly myself on a deep level are every bit as hard as climbing a mountain trail, dammit!  My "adventures" are of an internal nature!

The analogy struck a chord with me.  I realized I have nothing to feel inferior about, nothing to apologize for, if I don't do the "nature challenge" others so enjoy.  My challenges come in the form of deep personal work and the summit I am aiming for is increased self-knowledge, inner peace, compassion and "capital L" Love.

Feeling inspired, I sat down and wrote this poem:

THE ADVENTURER

I ford the river of tears

Climb from the depths of despair

Stumble over jagged rocks of doubt

Lose my way

Each step forward a small victory

Each boot stuck in a muddy rut another defeat

Clouds gather, burst

Cold sleet runs down my neck, chilling me to the bone

Will I ever see the sun?  Hear the birdsong?

Look up at a sky so blue, so clear that all pain is lost in its vast expanse?

I keep the vision close to my heart, the possibility of healing, the promise of joy.

One more step forward, one more slide back, heart muscles aching, breath ragged.

It is a lonely journey, the curved path treacherous, ascent steep

I long for sleep, for rest, for peace

It comes in welcome respite ‘round the night fires

Where other faces emerge from the dark, brother traveler, sister wanderer

Stirring the dying embers, finding warmth, feeling strength return

Awake to another day on the trail ahead

Perhaps this is the day

Perhaps this is the hour

Perhaps this is the moment 

When the summit is reached 

And all the world will lay below me

Dazzling like the jewel that is my life

To live, to love, to be.

****

You take the outer journey, I'll take the inner.  I'll meet you where our paths converge.

At least, that's the view from here...©

END OF AN ERA

I am feeling discombobulated.  (Love that word!)  Here it is past mid-month and I've not written a post in either of my blogs.  The thought of sitting down to write creates a "thud" in my heart and mind.  What would I say?  I got nothin' for the blog.

It's not really writer's block.  There is ALWAYS something to say.  Writers write.  And I've been writing.  But it's been mostly random thoughts, stream-of-consciousness, journal-puzzling, email responding, all around my decision to leave my UU Fellowship (well, take a long sabbatical) -- the place and community that has been my home-away-from-home for 23 years.

"Leave my church" is a HUGE phrase and one I want to take back the minute I write it.  My church is not a typical Christian church, the image conjured when the word "church" is uttered.  I am a Unitarian Universalist -- a seeker who finds wisdom in all faith traditions and within my own human experience.   We call ourselves not a church, but a Fellowship -- and have taken great pride in our community of "like-minded" people (mostly liberal thinkers and doers) gathering in an old Methodist church building we bought a couple of decades ago, situated in a fairly conservative small town north of Seattle.

Alas, pride goeth before the fall.  This UU community also fancies itself an anti-authoritarian throwback to the glory days of the 60s when "Question Authority" was the rallying cry.  I think it still wise to use our brains and question leaders not acting in our best interests.  But there is process for doing that -- a democratic process that certainly includes replacement of elected leaders through the election process.   There might also be protests and petitions and expressing differing opinions.

But are these appropriate and loving strategies to direct at church leaders, friends who sit across the aisle on Sunday mornings?  Is it OK to give voice to flaring tempers?  To conspiracy theories and rumors?  To name-calling and character assassination?   To promoting an "us" vs "them" divide?  I don't think so.

But that is what has happened over the past few months at my UU Fellowship.  I don't even recognize what it has become.  We had a inexperienced (and some might say, controlling) minister, who started the ruckus with a personnel decision unpopular among some, but supported by others.  She has now resigned after only being in our church for just over a year.  Two months prior to her leaving, I resigned from an important committee chair position because I couldn't work with her any longer for a number of reasons unrelated to her personnel decision (with which I agreed).  Three Board of Trustees members resigned for the same reason.  All of us have left the whole church to some degree or another because of the vociferous faction that rose up in defense of the dismissed volunteer.  Some violated boundaries of confidentiality, decorum, and just good sense.  (Really?  Calling for resignations?  Monopolizing meetings and services with  personal agendas? Calling out our Board of Trustees as Nazis that Hitler would be proud of?  That's going a bit far, don't you think?  Did the good folks on the Board deserve this vitriol?)

So, I've been grieving the loss of what was once a truly loving and supportive community for me.  One in which I devoted thousands of hours of time and energy, as well as thousands of dollars in financial support over the years.  I had so many friends there, so many positive and joyful experiences.  Yes, there were flaws, underlying problems that would surface and then recede, but all- in-all I hung in there, believing (even in the past few years when my involvement seemed like mostly work and worry) that we were "better" than other churches -- we were smarter, more insightful, more loving, more giving, more involved in the community and the world with our activism, more creative and more accepting -- more compassionate.  But nope.  Not so much.

I get the lesson here.  Putting oneself or one's community on a "better than" pedestal is always wrong, and particularly wrong for a church; it never plays out quite that way.  I am humbled at the same time I am sad and disillusioned.  I am grieving.

I'm also excited about the freedom from responsibility and commitment to that institution.  It really was a full-time job at times.  If I wasn't physically there, I was there in my thoughts and plans, talking  about and organizing for this or that committee or event or worship service.  It came only second to my family in importance -- and sometimes (too often) it came first.  I thought about it when I went to sleep, when I woke up, and even during my insomniac nights I'd get up and work on a project of some kind.  Sheesh!  I was completely out of balance!

So, I'm getting quiet now.  Sitting with this stunning turn of events that I never saw coming only a few months ago.  I'm opening myself to new vistas of spiritual growth, personal development, healing and forgiving.

It's just that in that space, writing has taken a back seat.  But I'll be back.  Writers write.

At least, that's the view from here... ©

STEPPING BACK

Oh me, Oh my.  I do not like conflict.  But sometimes it's unavoidable and then I'm not afraid to face it head on.  It takes me awhile and I try to give everyone the benefit of the doubt, then I just get to a point where I feel I've done all I can do and have nothing to lose by falling into the fray.  I feel both liberation and loss when that happens.  Because I know for me something's gotta change.

I love my Unitarian Universalist church, but it hasn't felt very church-y to me for awhile.  I've been in some form of leadership position there for a very long time, active and visible and trying to help create a growing, thriving, welcoming place of personal refuge, spiritual growth, and targeted activism.  My focus has been on organizational structure and transition over the past few years.  There is a joke amongst UUs that trying to move that group in one direction is like herding cats.  We are an independent, anti-authoritarian crowd who rely on the democratic process in decision-making, but are not above a good protest when outcomes don't agree with our way of thinking.

I feel like we've had one controversy after another over the past couple of years and we are currently embroiled in a brouhaha that is slipping into way, way too much of my personal life.  Its tentacles are reaching beyond the actual "issue" and now even the response to the original issue is becoming the problem.  People are choosing up sides and I can't take it anymore.  Well, I don't want to.

A couple of weeks ago, when all of this sort of came to a head for me, I was visiting friends at their new beach house and one evening our conversation centered around our spiritual practices and what we want in a spiritual home.  It revealed to me that most of my actual spiritual practices have little to do with Sunday morning worship.  Meditation, yoga, writing, and my current addiction to the Outlander book series (HAHA) don't happen in the confines of my church.  It gave me pause.

Then, the following night we explored this statement: "If you don't know where you want to be in five years, you are already there", meaning, of course, that without a goal/plan/dream, nothing will change.

We each talked about our personal goals for the near future, which led us to realizing that if we are not already living toward that goal, living already each day in service to our dream, we are missing the mark.  No magic wand will wave and put us in our own personal Nirvana in five years' time.  I won't magically be in terrific cardiac health in five years if I don't get on the treadmill today.   Whatever the goal, it starts now.

We talked about what actions and activities touch our "essence" -- those moments when we are what is called, "in the flow", when chronological time seems to disappear and we enter "soul time", lost in pure joy and spirit.  For some it happens when listening to, singing or playing music, for others when painting, or gardening, or running, or hiking.  For me, again, I am lost in my Yoga practice, meditation, and writing; also when gathered in fun and laughter with close friends and family, and I would add lately when doing crafts with my granddaughter.  No church building or committee or controversy over policies, politics, or personalities required.

This past week I resigned from an important leadership group at my church and have declared I will not accept any leadership position in the foreseeable future beyond continuing to facilitate the WISE  group for women over 60 years old, which I've done for five years.  This is not a tantrum.  I'm not party to or personally involved in the current controversy.  I have an opinion, but it's not public.  It's just that in my capacity of leadership I was being drawn into the quagmire, losing sleep, dealing with side issues and seeing some people I have admired and some I have called friends behaving with surprisingly questionable wisdom and appallingly questionable outrage.

Going back to the beach house conversations, it was clear that this church stuff was dramatically impacting my ability to have opportunities to be "in the flow" -- to make choices about how to spend my time and energy, touching my essence.   In five years' time I'll be nearly 70 years old.  I know how fast five years flies by; how fast a lifetime flies by.

I recalled Mary Oliver's brilliant poem, "The Summer Day" and its stunning closing words:
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?


I thought about my "one wild and precious life" and how much of it I've spent fulfilling commitments.  I took my concerns about "bailing on my commitment" at church into meditation; some would call it prayer.  My decision became crystal clear:  I will waste not one more sleepless night on policies and procedures, conflict and controversy not of my own making or of my personal responsibility.  I love my church; I love my community there.  But my sense of personal integrity around honoring a commitment I made to be on that committee felt like a burden -- and an obstacle to following my heart.  I was out of integrity with myself and if I didn't stop this pattern, nothing would be different in five years' time.


Stepping back is not stepping out, but it is stepping into a new way of being with a church and a community that has been central to my life for 23 years.  Liberation and loss.  Yes, that about sums it up on this sunny Sunday morning as I sit at my writing desk...in the flow, if not in the pew.

At least, that's the view from here....©

I AM A UU

I've been away for a few days.  Hub and I went to our faith tradition's annual General Assembly -- a nationwide gathering of Unitarian Universalists, this year in Portland, Oregon.  "Portlandia" is the perfect spot for UUs to gather.  Very progressive and PC and earnest -- and a little whimsical.

I love our Unitarian Universalist heritage.  The faith started out in the Judeo-Christian tradition but split with the Christian church around debates of doctrine.  Unitarians (formed in 1793) couldn't wrap their rational minds around the idea of a Trinity and believed instead that there is ONE God.  Jesus was a messenger, a prophet, a teacher, but not God in human form.  The Universalists (formed in 1825) couldn't wrap their loving hearts around a punishing God.  They saw God as a loving, saving, and unconditionally accepting force for good who would not condemn humanity to Hell, believing ultimately we are all saved by grace.  Both faiths were persecuted by the Christian church.  Yes, we have our imprisoned and executed martyrs who died for UU beliefs.  

There were Unitarian churches and Universalist churches for a long time, then in 1961 they merged and now we are the very big mouthful:  Unitarian Universalists.  Along the way the Humanists also played a defining role in the tradition and questioned whether we needed to bother with God at all and this is still a subject of some debate in the faith.  What we do all agree upon is that we draw inspiration and wisdom from many traditions and don't hold one above the rest.  We are all called to find a spiritual path that speaks to us; we are all called to social justice; we are all called to belonging in Beloved Community.  

I may have gotten some of this thumbnail sketch wrong -- UUs love to debate and disagree, so even my UU friends will likely read this and tell me..."Nope, that's not how I see it."  Well, so be it.  Plus I'm a "new" UU -- only 23 years into it (after drifting through the Methodists, the Lutherans, and the Congregationalists (UCC).  If you want to know more about UU, go to the source:  the Unitarian Universalist Association http://www.uua.org  Be sure to click on the Principles and Purposes  and Sources of our faith -- that's pretty much us in a nutshell.  http://www.uua.org/beliefs

Anyway, the UU-GA was something to experience.  Five thousand UUs gathered to worship, take care of business (we select delegates from each congregation to hammer out our bylaws and policies and elect boards, etc -- very democratic and messy), attend classes and workshops on a wide variety of topics, witness for social justice, and take inspiration from each other and an array of speakers who called us to action.  

UUs are known for our social justice work.  We are the organizers, protestors, and "speak truth to power" crowd who have historically supported a zillion progressive causes.  I thought more than once that if T-shirts could change the world, we'd be in fine shape at the General Assembly.  I also wondered why the T-shirt concession companies cannot make any other than those ill-fitting men's sizes crew neck T's with the baggy sleeves and boxy shapes that make everyone look like Sponge Bob Square Pants.  Not a good look.  Anyway, I took to jotting down some of the slogans I saw -- this is only a sampling:  

The Price of Peace is Economic Justice for All

Be the Change

Coffee Farmers Can't Live on Beans - Support Fair Trade

Co-Exist

Celebrate Diversity

Black Lives Matter

Standing on the Side of Love

Death Penalty Makes Us All Killers

Plant Justice - Harvest Peace

Nearly 1 Billion People Don't Have Clean Water

College of Social Justice

Corporations Are Not People

Love is Love  (in rainbow colors)

And, of course, every congregation seemed to have a T-shirt identifying themselves with their church name and city.

Looking around one might conclude these are just a bunch of aging hippies still tilting at windmills and not getting very far.  That would be wrong.  While the demographic at GA skewed a bit on the older side (we have the time and the means to go away to a conference for several days), there was also a large contingent of youth and young adults.  And all, to a person, has an abiding desire to see a better, more equitable world for all.  And we are willing to study, organize, and work for it.  We're known for being sorta smart and politically active.  Indeed, political action is paired with a spiritual (or, OK, humanist for some) ethic that demands no less of us.

Given that, you can imagine the Supreme Court ruling on Marriage Equality, in the midst of our gathering, was met with great jubilation.  UUs have worked for GLBT rights for decades.  A "win" for our GLBT friends is a win for all.  

Other justice issues were highlighted this year too.  On Saturday we held a huge public witness around climate change, with speakers from local Native American nations.  

Later we went to a reception where Rep. John Lewis, renowned for his civil rights work with Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., was interviewed. What an inspiration!  

And that same night the firebrand, outspoken, challenging, surprisingly funny, sincere, and insistent racial justice intellectual and activist Dr. Cornel West was the keynote speaker.  People were on their feet more than once, cheering his call to action.

Those were highlights for me.  And equally so were the enormous worship services full of creativity,music, and  inspiration.  UU congregations tend to be on the smaller side.  There are several big city congregations of several hundred, but most are not that big.  Ours has 160 members and we struggle sometimes to get people to step into leadership, sing in the choir, greet visitors, and set up coffee hour.  So, to gather with 5000 of our tradition, to sing the familiar hymns in unison with a choir of 200, to see a beautiful flaming chalice lit (the symbol of our faith) on a huge stage flanked by big screens where the proceedings were projected so that even those in the very back could see -- well, it was moving.  More than once I had tears in my eyes.

I'm glad I experienced General Assembly.  I came home with a renewed pride in my faith, a deeper appreciation for being part of a greater whole, a rekindled spark for activism, and the determination to work for T-shirt equality.  No more men's sizes for all people!  I know UUs eschew the materialistic, consumer-oriented culture and have little use for vanity or fashion, but c'mon, let's show a little consideration for body type diversity!

At least, that's the view from here...©

NOTHING MUCH TO SAY

Oh, look!  She's back!  But does she have anything to say?

Whew...a bit of a creative dry spell in the blog'o sphere for me lately.  I was finally prompted by an out of town friend who thought she was missing my posts since Golf Porn.  Alas, there have been none.

Sometimes I am brimming with ideas that force themselves almost beyond my control to the page.  Other times, well, nothing seems worth writing about.  It makes me admire those who have to churn out opinion columns on a regular basis even when they don't have the "juice" to even have an opinion.  I guess that's why some columns are stellar and some just so-so.

Well, here are a few things that have caught my attention while I wasn't writing blog posts:

1. Interesting how commerce and art intersect and motivate.  I did prioritize my "paying gig"-- the Circling the Mat blog. http://circlingthemat.blogspot.com.  So money does matter -- as does the fact that a "boss" has an expectation of me to produce.  And I'm reminded that I have always been more externally than internally motivated.  I keep thinking that is no longer true, but I'm lying to myself when I say that.  Obviously.

2.  I did a public poetry reading with my poetry group last week.  We published a chapbook last year and were invited to be featured poets for February at a local cultural center.  There are six of us in the group (called The Five Women Poets -- because that was the original number and we just stick with it even when others come and go, increasing or decreasing our actual number).  We hadn't read publicly for several months.  It was fun.  We also sold a few books, so that's nice.  But I felt a bit like how Mick Jagger must feel when he has to sing "Satisfaction" one more time.  I'm pretty sick of my poems and realize that my essays for the blogs are in the driver's seat and my poetry has been sitting in the back, napping.  I'm taking a class on Billy Collins' poetry next month.  That should shake the poet in me awake.  He's my favorite.

3.  My local-est go-to Starbucks is closing.  Around here you can hardly go a couple of blocks without passing another one, but this one was most convenient for me and my route took me by it frequently.  Easy in and out, right in my shopping area, on the way home from Yoga (when my Outback, as if with a mind of its own, turns into the parking lot 9 times out of 10).  Other stores will do, but have their drawbacks -- lousy parking, crowded, long drive-thru lines.   It's unclear to me how they could determine there wasn't enough business at this one -- I had assumed my visits alone were keeping it in the black.  Alas, not.  (And don't tell me to use that espresso machine that sat on my countertop gathering dust for 5 years and now takes up space in the under-counter cabinet no one uses.  Just not the same.)

4.  And as if that news wasn't upsetting enough, later the same day I found out about the closure, the announcement came that Jon Stewart is leaving the Daily Show.  This news shook me to my pop-culture core.  I adore him.  Handsome, intelligent, articulate, incisive, ironic, goofy, smart, hilarious.  I counted on my nightly "date" with Jon Stewart to give me a lift from the doldrums of despair because if he could make fun of the absurdity of our current state of politics, media, and just general human craziness then all was not lost.  With Colbert gone already and Stewart on his way out, I feel lost and lonely, as if friends who remind me it's all going to be OK, if we can still laugh, have moved away.  I hope they'll stay in touch.

5.  I'm curious if my writer's block for the blog has to do with all the other, more technical, writing I'm doing lately.  Hub and I are on the Steering Committee for our church's annual Stewardship Drive.  In fact, he's the chairperson and with his organizational skill he is the man for the job if anyone is.  He's gathered a very creative and energetic group to assist him and it's a big, multi-part project.  I'm not only his "ghost writer" for most things he needs written, but with this project a friend and I are writing all the announcements for various publications, designing a mailer, an e-brochure, testimonials, and factual information hand-outs.   My head is sort of swimming with marketing strategies, details, facts, figures, and design elements.  It might be draining my creative energy for other things a bit.  But boy is it fun to work on a big project with bright, capable, and creative people and have it be time-senstive and time-limited.  My part will be over by mid-April....

6.  At which time I'll be deeply into and much distracted by getting to know our new granddaughter, who is due to make her appearance early in March -- 3 weeks until due date!  Woo-Hoo!

7.  Oh! NOW I think I feel a blog post bubbling up....I might have a thing or two to say about being a grandma.

At least, that's the view from here...©

GRATEFUL, AT LAST

Well, that's over.  It's December 26th.  My favorite day of the year--usually.  But I feel a little like I'm just getting started.

Christmas season was quite a struggle for me this year.  My family and friends must have tired of my grousing and groaning and rolling my eyes and outright being negative with me singing my many and varied melodies of "I hate Christmas".  My decorating, cooking, and gift buying was minimal.  I sent out our Christmas letter, finally, on Christmas Eve -- a "Happy New Year" greeting as it turned out. I missed my mom a lot.  I derided the expectations, traditions, and commercialism of the whole thing.  I resented having to play along, when I just wanted to ignore the whole event.  Bah Humbug, indeed.

Then came Christmas Eve.  My family took up a whole row at the candlelight service at my beloved Unitarian Universalist Fellowship -- me no doubt beaming with pride and also noticing how all of us grandmas were looking around at extended families gathered and saw we were ALL beaming with pride.  It touched  my heart.

Then we all came home for our traditional Christmas Eve buffet, gathered in our living room which is under-populated the rest of the year, but becomes Christmas Central for a few days of winter when the fireplace is lit, candles burn, the tree is vibrant with color and Manheim Steamroller Christmas music serenades the scene.  Angel wrote her letter to Santa, we all exchanged gifts with Son-Two's girlfriend, who wouldn't be with us on Christmas, we talked and talked about Son-One and DIL's new baby, due in March, who would be part of our family next Christmas.  I felt all warm and fuzzy.

Christmas morning was quiet and I sat alone in the living room, letting all my angst and sorrow and anger and resentments melt away into a long meditation on gratitude.

In the afternoon, the gang gathered again.  Son One and his family brought cookies and fudge and spiced cider and bags of gifts and one excited little Angel who had had herself a fine Christmas morning at home playing with her Santa toys.  We all took turns unloading our stockings and opening gifts and I noted the thoughtfulness that went into each one -- the perfect gift for the person receiving it, obviously sought and purchased or made with pride and love.

Dinner, puzzles, books, assembly of the new bird feeding station, several games of darts on the new dart board, conversation, games, crafts….  How is it that I forget, or can't appreciate, that these are practically "Rockwellian" tableaus being played out right here in my house?  Why do I think it should all be even more perfect?  Even more jolly or festive or, I don't know, entertaining somehow?

Note to self:  Next year just shut up about hating Christmas and have a little faith.  It will all be more than OK.  It will be perfect, just as it is.

At least, that's the view from here… ©

WISE TO BE W.I.S.E.?

Why do women squabble and quibble?  Do men do this?  If we are dabbling in stereotypes anyway, I suppose men do have their career hierarchies, muscle mass, and penis size issues to deal with.  But, being a woman, I think I have a pretty good view from the front on a lifetime of tits (haha) for tats that females seem to bandy about.  And we all have our Egos which, poor things!, just insist on having their way.

So, over the weekend I was at a party when a woman from my church, maybe 10 years my junior, and whom I admire for many reasons, said she needed to talk to me about something.  That "something" was the name of the women's group I've facilitated for over 4 years.

We call ourselves the W.I.S.E. Gathering -- Women Investigating, Supporting, and Exploring.  It's a group formed to give voice and visibility to women over 60.  So yeah, we card at the door; gotta be 60.  We love welcoming those into our midst who have "come of an age" to join in.  Initially we got some guff for what some called our practice of age discrimination (there were numerous other all-ages women's groups and gatherings, just sayin'), but that criticism has largely passed, I think.  Yet now I was hearing this:  It's really the name of the group that is the rub.  "If you are the WISE women does that make us (younger women) the "dummy" women?"

My initial thoughts, upon hearing this were along these lines:  "Hmmm…no, of course not!  Hmmm…I feel bad about this.  Hmmm...this is pissing me off.  Hmmm….interesting that I am being triggered by this feedback.  Hmmmm…what the hell?!?"

I was determined not to be defensive, to breathe, breathe, breathe, and keep listening.  The name, it was suggested, should be something like "Silver Sages".  (Uh-huh, not too keen on using stereotypical physical characteristics as an identifier, but maybe that's just me.)  The rationale she shared is that wisdom can be gained at any age, but you have to be old to be sage.  My take?  Semantics.

But I have been pondering this ever since.  I am sort of amazed that some women in my congregation are annoyed by our group because of a word, one that in traditional cultures is an honorific used to denote an age and stage of life.  I agree, age does not automatically confer wisdom.   I know some batshit crazy and very unwise women of all ages.  

Yet…having lived a long time means having (usually) gathered the experiences and perspectives that seem to even out the psychological volatility and emotional vulnerability of a more youthful age.  It seems to focus one in a way that was not possible when younger.  There is time to reflect, to see the end times not that far away, to wrestle with the urgency of life and to do the work and feel the joy that commands our immediate attention.  But this time of inner exploration can often force us into a state of marginalization by our culture (and our friends and families.)  There is a drive to "keep busy" so we can still feel vital and be seen as such.

So what jazzed me about starting this group was to keep us more than "busy" with kitchen duties and social event organization and book club facilitations -- all incredibly noble and worthy pursuits, but not at all the complete picture.  I was starting to see a "kindliness" veneer slapped over the fire I knew was still smoldering.  I wanted to make a place where we could shout out our anger, pain, sadness, and JOY at living fully, completely, and meaningfully as Elders.  I wanted to create a place where the word "elder" didn't get mistaken for "elderLY".

At our first meeting 4-1/2 years ago I expected maybe 5-6 curious women to show up.  The small room overflowed with 24 women -- and we have averaged about 18 for each session since.  Struck a nerve, apparently.  Filled a need, apparently.  We did a little consciousness-raising exercise that first afternoon.  I asked women to shout out cultural stereotypes of aging women.  The list we came up with consisted of 24 negative characteristics and 8 positives.  After meeting together monthly for 8 months, raising consciousness, rejecting society's biases, and forming a sisterhood of women sharing passions, activism,  hopes, and dreams, we looked at the stereotype exercise again.  By our last gathering of that first year we had accumulated 81 positives against 39 negatives!

And to me that was what this is about:  remembering who we are.  Or maybe for the first time affirming who we are.  At 63 I am among the youngest in our group.  That means that most are a good deal older than those who take exception to our name.  It seems there is never an end to discrimination against women, both overt and covert, but for most of the women in our group they came of age at a time when women were denied so much in so many ways it's almost comical to think of it (if it wasn't so sad.)

I became an adult in the early 70's -- a time that swept me up in women's liberation activism and created opportunities that were unheard of for women 10 years my senior at the same age -- and not even recognizable to women 10 and more years younger, who reaped some of those benefits.  (I will never forget a woman in her early 30's who publicly thanked me and my age cohorts for the work we did that allowed her to take so much for granted in her own life -- to play sports, go into a non-traditionally female career, to own her own home.)

Reading Mark Nepo's "Finding Inner Courage" this morning, I ran across his reference to psychologist Erik Erikson and his work on identifying psychological stages of development.  The task of old age (he says 65 and over) is to "find meaning in the whole of one's life in the face of one's immanent death, and the good outcome (of this search) is expressed in the virtue 'wisdom'."  We are doing this work together in W.I.S.E. and I hope I don't sound defensive when I say that whatever wisdom we have come by, those of us born before 1954, was hard won and ours to embrace in a name that affirms.

And I know well that all of us, regardless of age and regardless of what name we give to our gathering spaces, need a place to come together to do the work of our distinct ages and stages of development-- honoring, supporting, and cheering each other on wherever we are.  Maiden, Mother, Crone, or Wise Woman, Sage, Elder…we're all in this together.  Let's get on with it.

At least, that's the view from here…. ©

MY STINT AS FIRST LADY

Had breakfast with a BFF this morning and told her, "I'm even sick of myself…I can't imagine how everyone else must feel!"  And then I went on to compare myself to Hilary Clinton.  Because we have both been First Ladies…she was and I am.

Well, I gave myself the moniker when Hub became President of the Board of Trustees at our Unitarian Universalist Fellowship last summer.   As First Lady I have no official duties, but I do feel it is my job to support the President and not schedule our weekly Family Dinner with our grown sons on Board meeting nights.  I also help write his monthly newsletter column because I can do in 20 minutes what would take him hours, so it's in my own self-interest, really.  I prefer to hang out with him rather than have him hunched over the computer.  I serve as a sounding board when he has a challenge or the germ of an idea.  We talk and talk and plan and organize and prepare and brainstorm and try to find consensus and middle ground with any plan or problem, keeping in mind the policies already in place, the interested parties and who will be effected, those who will be pleased, those who will be disappointed or angry.  We try to be patient and set aside our own agendas for the greater good of the whole.  He works hard at his Presidential tasks, some part of every day, and it seems we both spend an inordinate amount of time on Fellowship business.  It's all rather exhausting sometimes and I have taken to wondering what we will do and talk about when we don't do and talk about "the Fellowship"so much anymore.

I do find my own ongoing activities are consuming me at the Fellowship too.  I could list all the things I'm deeply involved in, organize and facilitate regularly or occasionally, and some where I dabble at the edges.  There are the long-term commitments and the ad hoc committees.  There are the one-time deals and the once in a while tasks.  Really, I feel I could fill a page with it all.  Which is the problem….and the reason I (and others, no doubt) are a bit sick of me.

I'm of two minds about this. Sometimes I feel way out of balance; like I've taken on too much and the feelings of frustration that creep up at times are a good indicator that this is so.  I get all control-y and piss-y when I just want to get the job done, forgetting the delicate interplay between the task we may all agree upon (if we've gotten to consensus at all) and the "right" way to accomplish it and when.  I feel way out of balance; like when I wake in the middle of the night worried about a comment I made, how someone might be miffed with me, what color to paint the meditation room, or which playlist to prepare for the Ecstatic Dance group.  I feel way out of balance, when I find myself making six 20 minute one-way driving trips to the Fellowship within 4 days all for legitimate reasons to show up for things I was committed to.  I feel way out of balance, as stated earlier, when Hub and I cannot spend more than 15 minutes in conversation without some mention of our church life.

On the other hand, I truly love this community.  I am retired from paid work. I have ample time, some skill, an obvious interest -- indeed, a passion for making our Fellowship as welcoming, vibrant, and  challenging (in a good way) and spirit-filled as I can.  I feel an obligation during this season in my life to take my turn doing this work.

I think back to those who were in this position when we first came to the Fellowship 23 years ago.  They were then at the age and stage of life that we are now.  I was so impressed with their creative energy, their dedication and tireless work.  As they eased somewhat out of that season of their lives, we've grown into it.  Others will come after us….I am certain.  Part of my motivation is to help ensure that this special Fellowship that means so much to so many of us will continue to grow and prosper and when I am an elder (even more elder than now) others will be ready to lead.

So, I thought of the "you get two for the price of one" partnership that has been Bill and Hilary Clinton and understood on a comparatively teeny-tiny scale that when two people are dedicated to the same cause, the same community, the same hope for the future, there will occur times of annoyance and impatience and over-exposure on all sides.  When Hub's presidency year ends, and his past-president duties are complete after next year, we may have to take a bit of a Sabbatical to get this all back in balance.  But for now, sick of me or not, here I am.  I'll just try my best to be nice about it.  And hope I see more people walk toward me on Sunday mornings than away.

At least, that's the view from here…. ©

Not familiar with Unitarian Universalism?  Check out the UUA website:  http://www.uua.org