Journal of Sacred Work

Days 57-61 - Surreal Gifts From the Sea

   Enlarge this photograph & discover a world both recognizable & disorienting. This jars us in the manner of a surrealist painting by Rene Magritte. Is that what it takes for us to live anew - to avoid death by a million blows from the dull knife of boredom?

   We know this sea. We know this sunset. We know the shells & the curved driftwood. We can even identify a photographer appearing impossibly amid this melange. 

   The surreal challenges our reality. Each image is factual. All are related. And the picture makes no "sense." The sea never delivers angel wings so perfectly. Half the gulf is turned sideways. One shell is a hand reaching for the sun.

  Serene elements become as uncomfortable as an operating room in crisis. This is the dream of the anesthetized patient - real & then forgotten when the patient leaves surreality for "reality."

   "Ordinary" is a stealthy killer. He arrives quiet as a clock unheard until it stops. "New" sings the song of a just-birthed baby. 

   Caregiver burnout is caused, in part, by monotony. The fresher we see the brighter each day becomes. 

   Every ocean changes for those tuned to her rhythms. Each falling sun holds new energy yet it is common to dismiss "just another sunset."

   In Gifts From the Sea, Anne Morrow Lindberg took shells familiar to millions & converted them to metaphors for the spirit. Is this is how we live deeper into life's mystery?

-Erie Chapman

Mixed image photograph "Variation on a Theme by Magritte" copyright Erie Chapman

 

Days 55-56 The Descent Home

Note: Shared by Liz Wessel

This is a beautiful dream offered by James Finley (via Richard Rohr, The Center for Action and Contemplation) 

Imagine that you have a dream in which you are climbing a high mountain. The valley below is where you grew up, where you experienced pain and made many mistakes. You are trying to transcend and leave this place by reaching the summit on which, you will be sublimely holy and one with God.

As the summit comes into view, the wind rising from the valley brings with it the sound of a child crying out in distress. You realize that there is no real choice but to go down the mountain to find and help the hurting child. Turning back, you descend into the valley. 

Following the child’s cries, you arrive at the very home you tried to leave behind.

You gently open the door and look inside. Sitting in the corner on the floor is your own wounded child-self, that part of you that holds feelings of powerlessness and shame. You sit down next to the child on the floor. For a long time you say nothing. Then a most amazing thing happens. As you are putting your arms around this child, you suddenly realize you are on the lofty summit of union with God!

A dream  of healing and transcendence!

I’ve heard is said that our greatest wounding is also our greatest strength.

Meditation or contemplative prayer, as Finley describes this practice is the gateway to our coming home.

Photos by ~liz
Ireland, 2011
South Dakota, 2016

Reposting of The Quiet Side of Passion - Days 50-54

    "The Boss" takes the stage. Mid-performance a photographer captures Springsteen shouting passion. In Madrid, a museum visitor views "Guernica," Pablo Picasso's giant painting that screams war's agony. Read "I sing the body electric" & experience Walt Whitman's wild & focused passion.

   Passion takes the stage whenever Minton Sparks (pictured) performs. That is why she has been called the greatest spoken word artist since Mark Twain. Except Sparks' sings & dances in addition to speaking her creations. "I live into the story," she says.  As she laughs, cries & voices her characters we can see her offering every gift of her body & spirit. Former Bob Dylan musician, John Jackson, adds his colors. Together, they awaken the hearts of those who appreciate brilliance. 

   When genius appears in any form Passion's face is sure to shine. Beneath the spirit's crust Passion's fire fuels grimace & shout. But, nearby, Serenity's underground stream whispers.

   T.S. Eliot wrote that art is always "one person talking to another." The same conversation occurs whenever a patient & caregiver share Love's communion chalice. 
 

   Anyone can fake passion. Genuine artists & healers (same thing) engage long periods of silence to sew Truth's clothes. With quiet courage they work & wait, listening for Love's voice so they can marry it to their own. 

 

-Erie Chapman

Springsteen image, stock photo

Photographs of Sparks by Erie

Days 48 - 49 The Magic of Hope and Love

 Note: Shared by Liz Sorensen Wessel

What do you see when you look at this photo?

What stirs within?

 All those little shoes, that can hold such tiny feet, so soft and agile, just learning to stand and take those first few steps. Can you recall the exhilaration of a first step!

Each is diverse yet precious, each in its own right. Each pair  offers protection and provides clues  to one's culture, informing one's unique identity, yet bonded by our common humanity. 

Hopeful and cherishing...

 Ultimately, we are one human family but too often we forget and are no longer aware, seemingly to have lost touch with our connection.

It is heart crushing to imagine, however briefly, how children around the world are vulnerable to hardship; hunger, poverty and unspeakable abuse.

 What biases do we hold that prevents us from really seeing? 

I pray that our eyes may be open
To be one another’s keeper
To look out for the children of the world
Offer a kind word, a book, an encouragement
I pray that we may teach our kids to hope
To be kind, to love, to stand against injustice
Because in teaching our kids humanity
We improve humanity
I pray we may remember we are the hands and feet of God
Without us, there is no life
Life is in a grant, a shared moment, a prayer, a classroom
May we always offer life to children
And may we take time to accept what children offer us
The magic of hope and love
— Donna Akuamoah,

Days 44-48 - The Wisdom of Slow

   I started down the sidewalk at my usual fast pace. My daughter & her daughter did not. Two at the time, Sonia stopped to look at flowers, touch tree bark, squat down to inspect bugs.

   My daughter's wisdom let her do it. Why rush a two-year old for whom every crack in the sidewalk is a discovery? 

   Why are we in such a hurry? It is my mantra. Sacred experience requires slow looking. We knew that once. Some still do.

   What gourmet wolfs down food? What art lover rushes through a museum? Would a classical pianist play an adagio fast? Would a rose lover just take a sniff? What do the blind teach us about touch?

   Great parents, healing caregivers & loving leaders understand the wisdom of slow. But they call it honoring life by paying attention.

   To rediscover the "ordinary" I have revisited mixing color with black & white. I look forward to showing these pictures to someone who knows the wisdom of slow. My other granddaughter is now two. 

-Erie Chapman 

Photographs recreated 2017 by Erie 

Days 42-43 Morning Mist

There is something beautiful about a morning mist descending sleepily upon Mother Earth.  

Majestic; veiled in mystery.

A timeless knowing & unknowing, encompassing all;  past, present & yet to be.

We are the bold mountains, the morning mist, the birdsong's peace, a greening after rain, glistening on snow caps, a falcon gliding  on currents of wind.

We are the heartbeat of the Eternal, gently held & forever loved. 

Liz Sorensen Wessel 

Photo by ~liz: Idylwild CA, 2/2017

Days 37-41 Is Gratitude Better Than Pride?

   After each of my children graduated from high school as both valedictorians and and Student Body President a friend said to me, "You must be so proud." Of course, I answered that I was.

   But another friend said, "Maybe the better word is grateful."

   He's right. 

Days 37-41 Gratitude or Pride?

   After each of my children graduated high school as both valedictorians & Student Body Presidents a friend said, "You must be so proud." Of course, I was.

   But another friend said, "Maybe the better word is grateful."

   He's right. Tethered to the earth we struggle to express ourselves with the best words we can find.

   What happens to your energy when you speak gratitude instead of pride? What happens when you hear a doctor or nurse say they are proud one of their patients was cured rather then grateful for a good outcome? 

   We stack wood for our fireplace. Why do we fly the flag? 

   We are encouraged to say we are "proud of our country," or "proud of our hospital" or "proud of our team."

   Even the Bible cautions that "Pride goeth before a fall." So why not simply express gratitude?  Why trumpet a pride that could lead to arrogance? "We are the greatest," some of our leaders shout. Does this generate condescension towards non-Americans?    

   Many Patriots fans have already said, "I am proud of my team." But what did they do beyond shouting from the couch?    

   It is twenty-seven years since my friend challenged me to express gratitude instead of pride. That one comment changed my life - & hopefully yours.  

-Erie Chapman

Photograph by Erie 

Days 35-36 The Beauty of Your Soul

Shared by Liz Wessel: "FRIENDSHIP is a mirror to presence and a testament to forgiveness.”

“Friendship not only helps us see ourselves through another’s eyes, but can be sustained over the years only with someone who has repeatedly forgiven us for our trespasses as we must find it in ourselves to forgive.”

“A friend knows our difficulties and shadows and remains in sight, a companion to our vulnerabilities more than our triumphs, when we are under the strange illusion we do not need them.”

“An undercurrent of real friendship is a blessing exactly because its elemental form is rediscovered again and again through understanding and mercy.”

“Friendships of any length are based on a continued, mutual forgiveness. Without tolerance and mercy all friendships die.” -David Whyte

David Whyte’s thoughts on friendship resonate because they give voice to a deeper truth. The circular energy of our relationships, the ebb and flow of love, tenderness and vulnerability helps to dismantle the layer upon layer of a false self; the persona that we have painstakingly cultivated through time.

In this second half of life we have an opportunity to shed our old skin in a regenerative way. Our friends are the cherished beings who see beyond our faults to our true essence, as brilliant as the northern star.

May the light of your soul guide you.
May the light of your soul bless the work
You do with the secret love and warmth of your heart.
May you see in what you do the beauty of your own soul.
May the sacredness of your work bring healing, light and renewal to those
Who work with you and to those who see and receive your work.
May your work never weary you.
May it release within you wellsprings of refreshment, inspiration and excitement.
May you be present in what you do.
May you never become lost in the bland absences.
May the day never burden you.
May dawn find you awake and alert, approaching your new day with dreams,
Possibilities and promises.
May evening find you gracious and fulfilled.
May you go into the night blessed, sheltered and protected.
May your soul calm, console and renew you. -John O'Donohue

Liz Sorensen Wessel

Drawing by ~liz