Warning: Religious, Political, Controversial and Explicit Content

This is God’s world, and I deeply believe he is at work in it. He is with me in my work. He is with you in yours. Hold onto this truth along with me, despite evidence against it.

There are so many people in pain right now. Locally, nationally, globally. As a Christian, my question is, how can I participate in relieving suffering, even in my little corner? This year has brought my attention to those suffering the most: the sick, orphans, widows, the marginalized, the foreigner, the sojourner, the jobless, the poor, the oppressed… the list goes on….

I usually try and stay away from political discourse on this page and on public posts, but this year feels different. I am finding that my angst is directly tied to my creativity. Brene Brown says that “unused creativity is not benign”. Every human is creative, though not every human uses the creative energy they possess. It’ll come out sideways in some way. The stress I am feeling around this year has been coming out sideways because I have not given voice to all the thoughts rattling around in my head. Do you feel this? Is there a way that you can express creatively what you are feeling inwardly?

I have voted conservatively ever since I was old enough to vote. I always felt great pride in the democratic process, knowing that women fought for my right to cast a vote. I took my oldest daughter to the voting booth for the first time in 2016, the first election that she cast her vote. We’d had several conversations leading up to that day. She knew that for the first time, I was not voting Republican. I used to be a one-issue voter. I always voted “pro-life”.

I’m going to the polls this week to cast my early vote. I will be voting pro-life again. I will not be voting for Donald Trump. In no universe would I ever cast a vote for him. When I say I am pro-life, that holds a lot of responsibility. It means I am for life, no matter what kind. I don’t get to choose whose life I am for. I am for life in all of its nuanced variances. It’s not up to me to get to choose who lives and who dies. I am for the life of prisoners, foreigners, the displaced and marginalized. This is what it means to be pro-life. I really hate abortion. I hate that women are in a position where they feel like they have no other alternatives. If we can’t take care of the living already existing on this earth, how do we take care of those that have yet to come? The focus must change. We must care and be life-giving for those who are already here. I understand that policy must be a piece of the work, but it isn’t the most important. The dignity of each person is. A leader who grabs women by the pussy and uses that as a mark of power in no way cares for the life of others. While he grabs pussies, he’s grabbing power and that is his sole purpose. This was incredibly obvious way before he took office. Look at the reality tv show, where he took pleasure in the humiliation and failure of others. This is who we elected. I’m embarrassed and ashamed.

This Trump flag is at the address below…

What is it? 1865??

Some folks say that Trump isn’t a racist. Ok, though I vehemently disagree with that statement based off of his own words, let’s say he’s not. Let’s just say he’s neutral on that for argument’s sake. His base is not. There have been so many racist movements in this country that he has not condemned and has stayed silent on (if you don’t think he’s endorsed these actions) that has given permission to his base to act out. This “silence” is incredibly irresponsible and completely inappropriate for his powerful position as a leader.

He is the most divisive, incompetent and anti-life president I have seen in my life time. I’ve seen the evidence all around me of ways that he has created an environment of “us” and “them”. I’ve heard friends being called baby killers because they’re not voting for Trump. These so-called “baby killers” are some of the most compassionate pro-life people you could find. I’ve seen people rejoice when Trump came down with Covid 19. Guys! Where is decency and kindness today? This is so disheartening. As Christians, we should know that love holds all things together… it is the very fabric of the universe. Let’s return to it. YOU are connected to the source of love and that source is ABUNDANT with pure and holy LOVE. Let’s come back together and let love win the day.

Color Series - Black, The Absence of Color

Paris, at Night

Yeah, we’re going black! The Absence of what I love. Color. I was running this morning and listening to a new song, recently released. The artist is a favorite of some of my children. I kinda like them too, if I’m honest. But the new lyrics went something like this: “…I’ll hold your hand, I’ll hold the door, ‘cause that’s how I was raised…”

Cute, huh? Sweet, and perhaps a little endearing….

And anger began to rise in me. Innocuous enough lyrics, and yet, insidiously present in our experience today. How many times have you heard, and usually in the context of excusing poor behavior, “that’s how I was raised”?

If you’re human and you grew up somewhere on the planet Earth, then there are ideas that you inherited that are archaic, bad, wrong and just plain stupid. You were raised by an imperfect human or a cluster of imperfect humans, which means you absorbed ideas that are not your own. Have you made them your own? Have you rejected them? Do you need to? Do you need to keep them?

Don’t hear me say it’s offensive for someone to hold the door open for you if you’re a female. Is it a kindness? As a female, I hold the door open for people all the time: at work, at the grocery store, in public places because it is driven out of a desire to spread kindness and decency. When the motive is to exert power over someone and to express superior strength and presence of mind, then it is not kind; it is condescending. My point is to examine why you were given the heritage you were given and if it’s worth keeping.

We do things so much by default and deeply held beliefs we may not even be aware of. This year has given me great pause to examine what I believe and why I believe it. I have sloughed off the ignorant faith of my youth for a deeper, more profound experience of God, His universe, and the way He works in it.

Sorting through at this level may require you to go dark for a time, a “dark night of the soul” as John of the Cross calls it. The process that I speak of is one of exchanging the false, shadow black self for the most authentic, raw self that God himself had in mind when he cut your fabric. The invitation to this kind of journey is not easy to say yes to, but if you can press through, fall beneath the surface into a great, mysterious depth…. a beautiful depth, where deep calls to deep…. then a beautiful transformation can take place. A cocoon is black. It is also a safe, nurturing place of deep change.

The Artist's Interior Landscape

The video narrative above depicts one of the most poignant moments of my painter life. Late summer last year (2019), I discussed the idea of a painting with Carynn, my potential new client. The painting she had in mind was of her daughter caught in a sweet, connective moment with a giraffe. We talked about the potential of it, but never put it in motion. Later, Carynn’s boyfriend, Don, who is also a dear friend, pulled me aside and gave me the green light to get started without Carynn’s knowledge. The idea was to have it ready by Christmas. I began the painting and Thanksgiving came and went and things were coming along. I was also preparing for the local art crawl show the first week in December, which was set to be one of the largest events in the downtown area because of a local new hotel opening and a Christmas tree lighting ceremony. About a week before that show, Don told me that he and Carynn were attending the Christmas tree lighting and would stop by the exhibit. We both had a light bulb turn on at about the same time. It was gonna be tight, and the painting would still be wet, but I’d do my best to have it on display. So, I finished it just in time, paint still wet to the touch! Our friend, Tom Moucka caught the whole thing on video. (Above) Before this moment, Carynn didn’t even know this painting existed. What an absolute pleasure to share in that moment!

This is one of those benchmark moments. What is a creative moment in your life that you can return to when things feel dark or uncertain? What is a moment that can put you back on your feet? For today? Can you loop back to that moment, or those moments and source energy and purpose into your forward moments? Can you think of a time where you know in a deep, inward space, that you have valuable things to contribute? That you have a voice that the world needs? In what ways can you draw upon those times? How can you put one foot in front of the other today and immerse yourself in inspiration and clarity? Give yourself the gift of finding out and moving toward those life-giving, inspiration- infused moments of magic!

Carynn’s Surprise 36x48 Oil On Wood Commission for Private Collection

Color Series - Yellow-Orange: Tertiary Magic

O you guys! This tiny little flower in the fullness of its fleeting life has put in front of me so much hope.

The beauty and softness of its color made me feel calm, collected, present, aware. The arrangement of color is really beautiful to me. It is holding the tension of two colors to create a third color.

What if we could exist like this flower, holding the tension of opposites, not excluding one in favor of the other, but allowing a both/and mentality rather than an either/or way of thinking? We humans are so polarized these days, building walls rather than bridges. I am speaking to my own heart here as I see the landscape of my relationships, each struggling to survive in their own ways as either/or mentalities create great divides. In this environment, no one flourishes.

What if, like this flower, we could exist in a third way, a tertiary existence? I think Jesus showed us how to do this. In all of the great gospel stories, Jesus was the reconciling agent to two opposites colliding. Cynthia Bourgeault, a great teacher and contemplative observes this: “The interplay of two polarities calls forth a third, which is the “mediating” or “reconciling” principle between them. In contrast to a binary system, which finds stability in the balance of opposites, the ternary system stipulates a third force that emerges as the necessary mediation of these opposites and that in turn (and this is the really crucial point) generates a synthesis at a whole new level. It is a dialectic whose resolution simultaneously creates a new realm of possibility.”

And perhaps it’s this shift in perspective that can begin to mend us. Even on my run, which, when I set out, I was aiming for a 10K (6.2 miles) and only could do 5.2 miles. I came up a mile short. I could approach that outcome in three ways. 1. I did not reach my goal. Utter fail and perhaps I freeze and get stuck here. (Denying force). 2. No big deal. I set the bar too high. Lower it next time. You’re excused. (Affirming force). 3. I didn’t reach my intended outcome; however, I am a better runner because I learned some of my limitations. I will celebrate what I did accomplish and I will respect myself and my effort. I will extend myself some grace and bring my learning into the next run. (Reconciling force).

Cynthia goes on to say, “the manifestation of Love is in any situation, but you need to find it… Third force is there because the Trinity is real, and if you’re alert to it, you will be able to find it… The problem is that most of the world is third force blind. The capacity to midwife third force or holy the reconciling is… the most powerful fruit of a contemplative spiritual practice. Without a contemplative practice, midwifing third force is virtually impossible. But with a spiritual practice you will be better and better equipped to get into the dance which will allow you to see how to deliver third force in any given situation.”

To add to that beautiful idea, you must allow this reconciling force first into your own heart. Grant yourself that gift and then it will naturally manifest itself outwardly. I know that my run is a simplified expression of this idea, but perhaps if we can see it in the little gifts we receive inwardly, then it will be more noticeable as we walk around in our life’s landscape. I think that is what Cynthia means when she talks about a spiritual practice. If we can keep exposing ourselves to God at a deep level, transformation takes place and that reconciling force becomes the air we breathe because we have been changed by it first.

Color Series - Red: Movement is Life

As I set out on my 5K this morning, I felt like celebrating. I felt hopeful. Yes, the exertion was intense in the August heat and humidity, but with this run, I would reach my goal for the month. And I still have a week to go in the month. I was ahead of schedule. Also, I solved a few professional problems this week. Many unresolved things are slowly having answers as I wait patiently, and sometimes, as I fiercely chase those resolutions down. It has been a delicate curation of holding things, allowing things and fighting for things. That’s why today’s color absolutely felt red. When I think of red, I think of fire, ferocity, love and passion. Red has been driving me lately.

One of my mantras recently came from a Zombie apocalypse movie. I know; laugh if you must, it’s an entertaining thrill ride with some good truths in the mix! In World War Z, Brad Pitt’s character is trying to help a family to safety and he tells them, “movement is life”. He’s saying, if you want to live, we have to move. We can’t stay here. I can resonate with that as a 4 on the Enneagram. We (not just 4’s - anyone) can tend to get stuck and feel little motivation to make movement of any kind. I know this about myself, and know that if I can pick up the gifts of the 1, I can move toward principled action, and begin to thaw from my freeze. Blend that feeling of freeze with a few setbacks, and it makes for the perfect storm. When I remember that movement is life, I can do something to move. That day I wrote about needing a win? (See previous blog). That was where I was. Just a small movement kept me from going into some dark vortex. Just a small one. And that small one led to another small one, and then, I began to feel fire again. The passionate red. That red leads me to celebration and hope.

As I was thinking about those things on my run, I looked up to see a stop sign. Hmm. Another meaning behind that vibrant, warm color; warning. When do we stop? When do we move? Those questions rising with each stride, are the most difficult ones. In the work that I do, I teach people how to rest, how to care for themselves, how to listen to themselves. Most of us are exhausted because we don’t know the kind of red that says stop. We’re told that we should be able to do it all, and if we can’t, we’re lacking in some way. What an outright lie. Part of the passion of red is rest because you respect and care for yourself enough to extend good gifts to the person you are, your essence.

I was talking with my daughter this week about the word “sin”. Ugh. This word has so much religious baggage and connotation with it. She said that sin is anytime you break away with being human. What a wise thought. When you betray yourself, you are moving further away from what it means to be human, what it means to be fully yourself, or your actualized, essential self, as you were/are meant to be; where your self intersects with the Divine in you.

So red, in a sense, is a curation of discernment. When do you stay still? When do you sit? When do you move? How do you rest? How do you move forward? The only way to get at the answers to those questions is to get at yourself. The only way to get to the bottom of yourself is to inquire of the Divine. Be the curator of your own movements toward your self and the Divine and you’ll know what that looks like, the different hues of red in your movements and your dormant spaces. The answers are within. You can find your own rhythm of rest and movement, silence, solitude, community, work, fallow, ordinary time. You have what you need to order these rhythms within. Listen closely.

Color Series - Brown, A new perspective

Yes! The color for today is brown. I know. Brown. Blah. Right? But wait. Brown is a very nuanced color and not straightforward at all. When I was in art school, earning my art degree, some of the lessons I learned early on were mind-blowing and life changing and have stuck with me ever since. For example, do you know how you arrive at brown? Take any color and add its compliment. Eventually, if you add enough, say, orange to blue, you’re gonna get brown. I think my favorite brown comes from mixing red and green. If mixed in right proportions, you never really lose the red. That’s my favorite brand of brown.

In this way, brown offers us new perspective, and as I set out on my 10K run today, I set out for a new perspective. Coach Bennett reminded me today that perspective is everything (he didn’t say that in so many words, but that was the effect his words had on me as I hit it hard on a warm, breezy day).

There are so many different ways that one can arrive at brown. There are so many different ways to interpret any number of things. Brown is as diverse as our human experience. As I was running and contemplating the color brown, a memory flooded my conscience. When I was studying painting, I had many fellow painting students that probably taught me more than I realized at the time. I remember my co-student and I were having a conversation and he told me that he didn’t see brown. His paintings were incredibly vibrant, infused with saturated reds and yellows and purples and greens. When he said he didn’t see brown, do you know the first immediate way that I took it in was with shame? I did see brown. I see a lot of brown. The thoughts that went through my mind were full of self-doubt and questioning. I thought perhaps I was in the wrong place. Maybe artists don’t see drab colors like brown. Maybe I don’t belong here. I wasn’t even aware that those thoughts were the first thoughts to run through my mind until my run today. They were fleeting thoughts that I talked myself down from, if even unconsciously. As I revisited that interaction today, I became aware of how beautiful and diversified each artistic, creative, voice is. And we need every one of those voices, because they each offer a different perspective, a different human experience. I love that my friend Tom doesn’t see brown; he taught me so much about color, such as introducing my to my favorite yellow. And, I see brown. I see it everywhere. Sometimes I can tell what colors predominantly made the brown that I see, especially when it’s a red/green combo. If I’m painting, I can add a compliment of that brown right next to it to make a contrast that pops. That is my perspective. Brown reminds me that we always have a particular perspective, and we always can reevaluate and see what we want to hold on to and what we can let go of that no longer serves us or the people we love. I’m talking about running. I’m talking about a creative life and I’m just talking about life. Where is there a space in your life that could use a fresh perspective? Where are you seeing brown when there might be a gift you are overlooking within the brown? How is your perspective limiting your capacity for compassion? For yourself? For others?

Color Series - Blue, the calmest color

As I set off on my 5K run, a sense of deep gratitude washed over me. I became aware of feeling hopeful and the hope felt tied to a deep sense of belonging. I felt at home with myself and to myself. I felt grateful for the people in my life. In the middle of so many things that I feel unsettled about, those were the things that were rising to the top for me. It felt like a tiny miracle.

What became apparent with each meter, is that, even if things aren’t resolved (see previous blog), there can be an equanimity that determines the moments on the way to resolution. When I look at the color blue, it represents equanimity - an emotionally balanced state which can only be felt at the center of oneself. In a “normal” setting, it is hard to come by. And perhaps in sensational circumstances as we find ourselves in these days, ironically, it might even be more accessible. Because we need it to be. Equanimous blue reminds me of the inner strength I possess to hold all of reality, as it is in this moment without attempting to numb, alter or deny the truth of it. And that, my friends, creates such a sense of gratitude for the present moment in all its nuanced reality. I want to live inside this blue.

“It was when I stopped searching for home within others and lifted the foundations of home within myself I found there were no roots more intimate than those between a mind and body that have decided to be whole.” ~ Rupi Kaur

Color Series - Green = Resolution

Green is such a calming color, residing in the space between blue and yellow. As I set out on my 5K, thinking about recent setbacks (see my last blog), green popped up all over the place, in the physical landscape around me as well as the emotional and mental landscape within. Green spoke to me of the desire for resolution for these various setbacks.

By the end of my run, I had identified some things I needed to do to create resolutions where my soul needed them. And ultimately, I needed resolutions within myself. I think I had forgotten that I possess everything I need within me to be able to resolve some difficult things.

A phrase that caught my attention in a Netflix series I’d been watching occurred to me while wrestling with these setbacks. A strong female character (“Kate”, Working Moms) made the observation in the middle of a crisis that no one was coming. No one’s coming. Her meaning was clear, that she was going to have to fix things herself because no one else would. Or could. She was on her own. O that phrase, “no one is coming”, stirred up some things in me. For those of us that have stories with abandonment laced throughout them, this phrase taps into a deep rooted fear. I am alone. There is no help. When I hit a series of setbacks, that is the wallpaper that adorns the background of what seems like a room full of failure.

Going in closer for a second look, I find a deeper truth waiting for me. What if all of these things in front of me were saying something else? If I deeply trust that there is a Divine path carved out in front of me to follow, and no one is coming, doesn’t it stand to reason that no one needs to come? What if I have everything I need already? If I needed someone, I believe God would send me someone. What if my foundational belief changed? Rather than being stuck in a perspective that I have been abandoned because no one is coming, I can say, I know how to tap into my own inner resources to live fully into my own soul gifts.

“It was when I stopped searching for home within others and lifted the foundations of home within myself I found there were no roots more intimate than those between a mind and body that have decided to be whole.” ~ Rupi Kaur

Color Series - Charcoal and Setbacks

Is anyone else feeling the weight of this new normal? Do things just feel a bit off? They do to me. I’ve recently had some setbacks, and they have pretty much permeated every category of life I can think of. One setback bleeds into another, and if I can’t get perspective and perhaps a reboot, then the charcoal-colored mood sets in. This morning, before I began my day, I just really needed a win!

My question this morning was, what is something in my life that I can win at, that will pull me out of this swirling vortex that is threatening to pull me down? How can I get back on my feet? I decided to hit the pavement and run a 10K. This seemed a lofty goal because 1. It’s been so ridiculously hot outside, 2. I hadn’t run this distance in months, and 3. I had a running setback when I didn’t reach my goal last month and was already feeling a little less than. Despite those arguments, I decided to go for it. I plugged myself in to Coach Bennett and took off.

Somewhere into my run, Coach asked about setbacks. What are they and how can one come back from a setback? That question jolted me, but perhaps not in the way one would expect. It felt like someone injected hope into my veins. Even as I surveyed my landscape, which was littered with recent setbacks, I needed this framework. In all of these major and minor setbacks, I had framed events as failures, betrayals of self, brokenness, inherent defectiveness, etc, etc. While there may be some truth to those things, it is not the entire picture.

With every meter of ground covered, I began to reevaluate how I looked at these setbacks. That’s all they are. Everyone has them. In the past, setbacks have caused me to freeze up. They have created a sense of futility. They have caused me to question who I am, what I do and why I do it. Perhaps that is why they are so valuable. Perhaps this is my reboot. Perhaps your setbacks are an invitation to reboot.

With every setback, I am mapping my way back to my essential self. When I have a setback that is a result of self-betrayal, meaning, I have acted in a way that is inconsistent with who I really am at the core, I am all the more closer to knowing who I am and constructing an authentic self, or deconstructing a false one.

There is a distinction to be made here. We are not the sum total of our setbacks, but we get to infuse our setbacks into our existing identity to further substantiate the essence of who we are. Then, we become stronger people who are operating out of a deep sense of essence and presence over the ego structure.

In this way, it is necessary for a time to breathe into charcoal (the absence of color), so that when we inhabit color, it will have a richer depth, texture and saturation that will change us. St. Ignatius of Loyola talks about a consolation and desolation rhythm of life that ebbs and flows. I like to use the language of color to describe the same patterns that we live. He says that while in a state of desolation, we can know that consolation will always come around again. So, though charcoal has its own kind of beauty, we know that color will always return….

Color Series - Determined Toward Orange

If you read my last blog entry, you know I’ve started a color series, where I pair my running and love for color together in some semblance of coherent thought, hopefully! It has felt so important, in these strange and crazy times, to make sure I am tuning in to my inner witness that can notice the things that need to be noticed. These are some of my practices to tune in. I’m glad to share them and hope that we all can adopt practices that help to ground ourselves to the earth, to God, to ourselves and to each other.

Last night, as I was running, I thought about what I was aware of feeling. I noticed how hot and sticky and muggy it was and how annoyed I was about being hot and sticky and muggy. Ewwww…. Tennessee in late July. It was the same feeling I had in December in Minnesota, when I stepped out of the car to run into the post office, and as my breath was stolen away into the frigid air, I wondered out loud, “Who would ever live here”, or I would’ve said that, if I could’ve moved my lips!

Going down further, I felt sluggish - in my run, in my life, in my paintings. I’ve had a recurring dream of running and not getting anywhere, that feeling of running in a shallow river of molasses. I haven’t had that dream in a while that I know of, but that dream came to mind as I became aware of feeling sluggish. My run was late in the day, as the sun was going down. I was supposed to have spent a good amount of the day painting. And while I did paint, I spent more time in extraneous activity that was more of a distraction from painting. I’ve been afraid of the painting I’m in the middle of; it is not resolved and perhaps doesn’t have a resolution. That’s what I’m afraid of, and it’s made me sluggish.

And, I noticed a determination. I may be sluggish, but I’m also determined. I almost talked myself out of this run. In the midst of feeling hot, sticky, muggy and sluggish, I did put one foot in front of the other and pounded the pavement to run 3 1/2 miles. I set out for a 5K run and did more than I set out to do. So, that’s something, right?

When Coach Bennett asked me what color I was, the answer was immediately orange, a deep russet orange, like the color of a gorgeous sunset. That’s one of my favorite colors. I noticed immediately that I didn’t feel submerged in it. It felt more like a longing, a deep desire to be saturated in the feeling and beauty of that color, but there was not that kind of solidarity with it, only a longing. To me, it means passion, compassion, heat and fire, justice, fierceness for love. And determination. So, I’m chasing it. I’m going to chase down orange by showing up. By painting. By running. By writing. By thinking. By loving. One day, I might catch up to it…

Color Series - Today, I am Purple

Ok, I’m gonna geek talk here. And, here’s what I geek out about: color. As a human, color is fascinating to me. As an artist, color is a mystery. Either way, I want to know more about color. I’ve learned so much, and every time I learn something new, it informs my artistic application that much more. So, I continue to investigate… come with me….

Let’s tuck that little, or should I say, big, obsession with color into the back round for a moment and talk about another intrigue… running. This is probably more of a love/hate sort of thing for me. I don’t run because I love it, or have an obsession with it. I run because I need to. As a Four on the Enneagram, I have learned to pay attention to my body. Yes, it’s been a learned practice for me. Where I can easily stay in my head and heart, it is not as accessible to me to drop down into my body, meaning, I am able to easily ignore my body. Sometimes it’s been like a little toddler yelling, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy”, over and over and I’ve tuned it out until the 95th utterance, and by then, we’re in a screaming match. This is why running has become a spiritual practice for me. It’s a way for me to be present before my body cries out in a temper tantrum, begging for attention. It’s a way for me to ground myself, center down, and be aware of my own connection to the earth.

A couple days ago, I found a guided run app, which I’ve never used before. I wanted some quiet and some things to focus on during my run. And, to my surprise, I found it to be quite magical. My coach came on every so often and simply asked questions. He would ask a question and disappear. So I had nothing but the sound of my own feet hitting the pavement and my own breathing to listen to as I thought about the question for that interval.

One of his questions was, “What color are you today?” Mmm hmm! Well played, Coach Bennett, well played. And it didn’t take me long to identify a color. Almost immediately, I knew my color was purple. And as I began to explore why, the word ambivalence came to mind. I don’t love purple. It is not on my list of favorites. It doesn’t evoke the calm and serene mood that is usually attached to it for me. I think of it as a wonderfully supportive color. It’s not the main attraction. As a standalone, I don’t like it; however, depending upon what it’s paired with, I could love it. A deep violet, together with a warm russet? Now that is an ocean sunset. Beautiful. Can you see a purple sunset without a hot orange or a glowing yellow? Taking note further, I own zero purple shirts. I don’t have purple earrings or scarves or hats. I know that some of you will be incensed! And I love lots of people whose main accessories are solid purple. And you wear it well. And I am not, nor have I ever been, drawn to purple as a standalone.

I was noticing my ambivalent feelings toward purple, and then, down below the surface, I felt that ambivalence in so many other spaces around my life. These many pandemic months, ambivalence has been what I am most efficient in accessing. One minute, I’m angry; the next minute, I am deeply grateful. One moment, I feel incredibly sad and the next moment, I find such a sense of wonder in something ordinary. Such a spectrum. I can go from feeling intense anxiety to feeling great equanimity in the same draw of breath.

The Spring pause we had this year because of the “shelter in place” mandate was so good for me in a lot of ways. It gave me time and space to really take a deep breath, reevaluate and reflect. It was also incredibly difficult in many other ways. I found out more of what I’m about, what I want and what I don’t want. So I want to ask you… as you think about the events of this year, this wild and crazy 2020, what color is it? And why? Spend time inquiring, being curious about what rises in you. Give it notice, give it pause, and give it a color. And please leave a comment about what you discover!

Changing Our Minds

I’ve gone to church all my life, primarily to some derivative
of a white, evangelical conservative Christian congregation.  As a result, I have hard-wired messages
deeply ingrained in my psyche.  Early on,
I remember having a dime deposited into my white, wooden, church-shaped piggy
bank if I showed up having memorized the weekly bible verse.  It was that particular church that a scandal
had been uncovered involving the pastor skimming off the top of the offering
basket funds.  That was the first
memorable indiscretion from a spiritual leader in my life, but not the only one,
and definitely not the most grotesque one.

All my life, I’ve heard, in a multitude of ways, that
transformation is a central part of the Christian faith.  I heard it when I was four.  I heard it when I was forty-four and every
age in between.  Repentance, change of
heart, change of mind – this is the way to God. 
My whole life.  And Transformation
is something I deeply believe in.  For
the world to change, every human must undergo transformation.  And it is not a one-time event.  It is ongoing.

Here’s the rub: there is a huge disconnect in the church.  I am realizing that all this time, when
leaders talk about transformation in the church, it has a different meaning
than how I think of it.  When leaders
talk about transformation, they are talking about ridding the self of sin, or
the “sinful nature”.  And that means
different things to different groups.

Transformation is so much more than behavior modification.  So much more. 
Tragically, the word transformation has been misused as a spiritual
abuse tactic to control and manipulate and keep ownership of God in the right
hands.  When they say transformation,
they don’t mean changing your views on theology.  And, as a woman, if I have thoughts of my own
about God and my experience of him, they are not to be trusted, especially, if
it could lead to different theological ideas.

I was taught transformation, and as I went along in my
exploration of the deep things of God, I began to change my mind.  I was on my own transformational path.  As I went further down that path, I became
more aware of how vast God is.  He began
to push the limits of my experience of him. 
He extended beyond my family, beyond my neighborhood, beyond my church
experience, beyond my affluent town, beyond my state, beyond, (dare I say it)
my country, beyond the world, beyond the universe.  He kept expanding, even as the church
continued to attempt to contain Him.

I began to look at my inherited ways of thinking.  And I realized, as I listened to the words of
a dear friend, describing coming out of the church like being spit up onto the
shore from the belly of a whale, wrapped in debris and seaweed, it was going to
require a sloughing off of the refuse of toxic thinking.  Transformation takes much time, reflection
and a deep centered inquiry.

Some things are so deeply ingrained as a default, that we
hardly even know a poison could be there. 
Do you know when I had my first baby at 24, I asked my mom what her
breastfeeding experience was like.  Do
you know what she said?  She said she
didn’t breastfeed us.  When I asked her
why, she said it wasn’t the thing to do back then.  Only biker chicks and hippies breastfed their
babies.  At the time, we both chuckled at
it.  And no shame, mom!  But I use this as an example of the ways we
default to the reality we’ve been given.

I have been slowly waking up over the years.  And it is shocking, even alarming, to see
things I’m still asleep to.  These months
of 2020 have been a blaring alarm clock, jolting me out of yet another slumber.

I had never heard the term redlining or been aware of the
Juneteenth holiday before this year. 
Things are beginning to make sense that, shamefully, have never added
up, but I’ve never had the curiosity or the drive to investigate further.  I am deeply disturbed, devastated and sad
over the things that are happening in our country right now.  And I also see this time as crucially
important. 

Through means of a deadly virus, we have been given a pause.  It feels like a pivotal pause.  Transformation is usually the result of quiet
solitude, perhaps even some inner darkness and definitely suffering.  Just look at the classic butterfly example of
transformation.  Transformation should
definitely CHANGE your views and experience of God.  If it hasn’t done that, it’s not
transformation.  The church preaches
transformation, through phrases like, “becoming more Christ-like”, but when
that actually happens on a personal level and some doctrines shift around, it
is rejected.  We should be changing…. Ever
changing.  No one has the corner market on
God or what “correct” theology or doctrine is. 
It is dangerous to think so, because if you think you are right, then
there is no room for transformation.

What if I could shift my stance of being right or having
answers, to being receptive?  Deeply
receptive to myself, others and God?  I
think having a mind of inquiry, curiosity and receptivity could change my
life.  And I think it could change yours
too.  But it is difficult to do.  It requires bravery because it means you might
be wrong and instead of being defensive, you must go receptive.  Ugh…. So hard to do, yes??  But, we must. 
Because I want a better world than what we have right now.  I want a world where ALL humans
flourish. 

Where do you need to change
your mind?

Do We Ever Really Let Go?

As an artist who paints the human figure, usually people I know and love, I’m often asked if those pieces that include family members are for sale. I ardently explain that, yes, if you’re viewing something in public, of course it’s for sale, and please support artists and purchase original works! I’m usually met with a look of astonishment and feel the need to clarify.

Art, so often reflects life. Whatever experience I am having must have the room to do its work in me. I must be open, receptive and present with what is happening around me and in me, actively listening and responding to my own process, whether it is the creative process or an emotional, spiritual, physical, therapeutic, relational or mental process (usually all or some of these are active together). Some processes have marked beginnings and/or endings. Some are a bit more ambiguous. Some have sharp edges and some bleed into the next. But all leave artifacts that they existed. Even if the only evidence is that they still live on in our bodies or memory. Our experiences form and give shape to our present lives. They make us who we are. What do we keep and what do we let go?

I sold this piece yesterday. It is called “Blue Hydrangea” and is an Encaustic piece I made by embedding a dried flower into the wax over a layer of oil paint. It was a very important piece for me to have made at the time (early 2017, I think). That flower has always had significant meaning for me and I needed to process some emotional turmoil I was feeling at the time as well as celebrate some important events that had recently happened in my life. I knew I was ready to release it when the time came. I could look at the piece in a different way than when I had made it. It did its work in me. It touched me the way it needed to. Now, when I see it, it feels more like a memory rather than a dwelling place. I became ready to pass it on and allow it to do work in someone else.

Even though I released it, that piece won’t ever leave me. It is now a part of me. It informs my present and my future, or perhaps I should say, the experience of it. The things that we let go never really leave us, whether relationships, art or seasons of life, they stay and get swept up into our Essence. Rainer Maria Rilke pens this thought about lost love: “Don’t think that the great love which was once granted to you… has been lost: how can you know whether vast and generous wishes didn’t ripen in you at that time, and purposes by which you are still living today? I believe that that love remains so strong and intense in your memory because it was your first deep aloneness and the first inner work that you did on your life.” (Letters to a Young Poet).

The power of art to transform us can be magical, whether it is music, poetry, painting or whatever medium, if we allow it to do its work in us, we wake up to the beauty of life. I’m going to leave you with a poem. I encourage you to spend time with it, in your own solitude. You could practice Lectio Divina with it or sit quietly and notice what rises for you as you read the words. Where in your body are you holding a memory or sensation that wants to be noticed? What emotions are attached to that memory? What do you want to remember? What work does this memory want to do in you? Does it need acknowledgement? Does it need healing? Does it need celebration? What kind of tending is it asking of you? Listen to what’s invisible, what is quiet and let it come around you and comfort you. Let it do its work in you.

Everything I’ve Ever Known

Everything I’ve ever known is with me still,

bits of kindergarten wedged between each toe,

high school banished to the shadows behind my spine,

womb pictures hung in rows along the length of my thigh. 

Recent years cling

to the tips of my fingers like good dirt

gathered between thick garden rows.

Every place I’ve ever visited has dropped a pebble in my pocket,

history dripping like tears from their thick skins. 

Everyone I’ve ever loved breathes through my lungs.

Everything I’ve ever done still travels the

long road of my blood from heart to brain and back. 

All of my life is hiding in this imperfect body,

waiting to be remembered

in a certain slant of light,

the timbre of a voice,

the slow path of a hand,

tilt of a head,

curve of shoulder or hip.

Whole years gather in the tatters of a song,

faces swim in good wine,

rooms emerge from the scent of flowers or spice. 

Blessing or curse,

everything I’ve ever known is with me,

and I am trying to remember.

–Amy Christman

Episode 29 #flyforwardvlog

Episode 29 #flyforwardvlog is up. Meet Kristen, #wakingupgrey graduate extraordinaire. Stuck and dissatisfied, she began to create beautiful things. #flyforward #flyforwardstudio #wakingupgrey2ndedition #spiritualdirection #spirituality #creativity #creativeawakening

Episode 28, Fly Forward Vlog. Meet Holly! She's a champion of the creative process and a trained leader. She will co-lead with me this year.

Episode 27, Fly Forward Vlog. Meet Nikayla Skolits

Episode 26, Fly Forward Vlog

Episode 25, Fly Forward Vlog

Episode 24, Fly Forward Vlog

Episode 23, Fly Forward Vlog