I’ve been wanting to do more sewing, more crafty projects, but my allocation of time lately hasn’t coincided with that desire.  Enter Facebook and the “I will make something . . . for YOU” note.  An excellent idea for those that need a little motivation to exercise that crafty side of the brain.

Truth be told, we could just challenge ourselves to do that regularly.  Pick a random five or so people you know and send them a spontaneous gift in the mail or a meal to their door.  Radical hospitality or a random act of kindness, any way you look at it, it’s a good thing.

A word of caution, however, is due — acts of kindness boost feel-good endorphins.  I couldn’t turn my commenters away.  Not only did I sign up to make five things, but I agreed to 10!  I love a challenge.  I love to give.  I love to create.  It’s a win-win-win situation.

Now, to manage my time.  I have the rest of the year to surprise myself.

This isn’t a question about who I am in relation to you or my family, nor is it a question for others to answer for me.  Read the title aloud to yourself three times, pausing in between each reading, as if using it for lectio divina.  What response arises within?

The Journey to Authenticity class I’ve been taking is all about folks who have come together because we’re trying to answer this very question.  Each of us, on our own journeys, have come to a point in our lives where we’re trying to figure this out.  We may have hoped to get the fast-food version of self-discovery –  get it now and get it quick.  The truth remains, however, that the specifics of our individual calling can only be heard by ourselves.  The “still, small voice” doesn’t come over an intercom but gently from within, and we have to listen carefully and discern what we hear, think, and feel to discover what is true and what is not true to ourselves.

According to Parker Palmer in Let Your Life Speak and to many others who have covered the topic of spirituality, purpose and calling, “Our deepest calling is to grow into our own authentic selfhood.”  This is the purpose for each of us, universally, but it is also “the universal tendency to want to be someone else.”  How often have we wanted to be like so and so, running ourselves into the ground, being miserable as we try to achieve what may not be ours to have?  I love the Hasidic tale Palmer shares to illustrate this:

Rabbi Zusya, when he was an old man, said, “In the coming world, they will not ask me: ‘Why were you not Moses?’  They will ask me: ‘Why were you not Zusya?’”

This is what it’s all about.  Each of us living into our role in this life, filling a great need, not only for ourselves but for others, ultimately for the glory of God, if you believe that, or at least for the benefit for all, no matter what you believe.  And for all the group therapy, coffee talk, breakdowns, ecstasy, exploration, we will find as we get closer to what is Real, “that the sacred center is here and now — in every moment of the journey, everywhere in the world around us, and deep within our own hearts.”

So simple.  So true.  So difficult.

Palmer, Parker.  Let Your Life Speak: Listening for the Voice of Vocation (San Francisco:  Jossey-Bass, 2000).

I never fail to be inspired by SouleMama’s blog, and I can’t wait to lay my hands on her books.  It was through her site recently that I found about about something good for us all, and better yet, it’s free!

has some art to download and print and paste wherever you need a bit of art in your life.  I adore the March download, and I hope you’ll enjoy, too.

It’s looking like the weather is going to pull us indoors the next few days — the perfect time to kick back and get crafty.  I may just finish a project or two, and it’s never too soon (or too late!) to work on a book idea.

I hope your day is as beautiful as mine has been.

Just when I’m thinking I need to be reducing my wheat/gluten consumption, my husband’s passion for flour-based foods finds yet another outlet — Artisan Bread in Five Minutes a Day.

No, he doesn’t have it down to five minutes — yet.  Yes, it is delicious, and he’s just getting started.  He’s already made this concept of bread at least six times, one of which included making four (or was it six?) baguettes!

When it comes to food, bread is about as basic, nourishing and nurturing as it gets.  Sharing with others makes it even better.  So, if you happen my way, don’t be surprised if I offer some bread — that is, if the kids haven’t eaten it all. 

Now, we’ll have to see if we can bake it in the outdoor oven without burning it!

Life has a way of providing opportunities for us, opening a window or a door here and there.  We always have a choice of whether or not to follow the lead.

This past week was spring break for my kids, and in many ways, it was a spring break for me, too.  We didn’t go anywhere fancy.  I didn’t clean my house inside and out.  I really did nothing incredibly productive or fascinating, but I lived into every moment.

And spring, my friends, is a wonderful time to be aware.  The birds sing loudly, the daffodils and tree and shrub blossoms are giving their all, and the shades of green right now are enviable in their vitality.  The equinox brought us a gentle thunderstorm as our lullaby.

“Let the rain kiss you.
  Let the rain beat upon your head
     with silver liquid drops.
  Let the rain sing you a lullaby.”
         — Langston Hughes

Perhaps you went away for spring break or have busy plans; maybe you’re kids are just now in their break.  My wish for you is that wherever you are, you’re enjoying yourself, making the time to be fully aware and present.

“See how nature — trees, flowers, grass — grows in silence;
  see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence . . . .
   We need silence to be able to touch souls.”  — Mother Teresa

Quotes found in my “Day Book,” The Poetry of Nature 2009 Calendar by Jean Lowe and Greg Johnson — my first splurge for ‘09.  It’s Spring, and I’m truly grateful to hear the resonating gratitude felt throughout humanity in the heartfelt quotes from beautiful people.

My
mom is a neverending song in my heart of comfort, happiness, and
being.  I may sometimes forget the words but I always remember the
tune. 

Recently on my FaceBook profile, I wrote in my status that I wished we could talk about that which we most feared.  I wrote this because lately I have wanted to talk to people about death, even their own, but haven’t felt that it is socially acceptable.  Who am I even to feel I have the right to ask them about what might very well be their greatest fear?

We do not know the number of our days.  We may not know until the very end when our work here is done.  In that simple knowledge, we live our lives.  In that knowledge, we trust that every moment we share is significant, that we have work to do, even if it’s just offering a smile of maternal love, an assurance to a friend, or accepting that we do not know but surrendering ourselves to that which is Good.

May Wendy’s soul rest in peace, her love surround her husband and boys, friends and family.

The best conversations with mothers always take place in silence, when only the heart speaks. 

I’m finding it difficult to focus on that which must be done.  I’m caught in the mental quagmire of thinking about those who are faced with life-threatening illness and preparing myself for a weekend retreat.  Some are facing the reality of their mortality, and I am delighting in the vitality of my life, the blessings of my nurturing community and ability.

Life is full of these paradoxes, though.  There is birth and death every day, but this is just what we see with our limited vision.  If we could take our focus away from the blatant physical dimension, perhaps we would be able to sense the divine spark in everything, feel the Presence that is the source of life, imbuing us with the energy and very vitality that we describe as “life.”  Energy is neither created nor destroyed.

One of my responsibilities is to trust that all that unfolds has meaning, that ultimately, everything contributes to the greater good, even if I can’t see how.  My vision and understanding are finite, very limited.  If I allow myself to trust, however, I feel like my understanding is broadened; I feel hope.  One of my other responsibilities might be to help others sense this trust and hope.  Some might call it faith.

Whether our body is overtaken with cancer or if we have years stretched before us, the truth is that in every moment, we may not know the difference.  The truth is that the only thing that truly matters in every moment is that we love and love deeply with reckless abandon.  In that, there are no regrets.  And that is a responsibility we all have.

I tend to shy away from books that hit the mainstream praise.  Well, I thought I did.  Recently it seems that I’m reading more of them, if for no other reason than curiosity.  What is the trend in thinking these days? I wonder.  So, my latest book to read is The Shack by William Paul Young.

The premise is that a father experiences a family tragedy and goes back to the site where it happened, only his experience is unexpected.  He has an encounter with a physical personification of the trinity — God, Spirit and Jesus.

Having read several books on spirituality (particularly Christian), I found nothing new here in ideas/concepts.  I enjoyed it, though, for the creative take on it, how each of the trinity were presented and the beautiful imagery invoked.  Perhaps the book has been such a big seller because many of us need examples of deep love and forgiveness; many cannot comprehend all the “bad” in the world if there is, indeed, a loving God.  And how to understand the “three-in-one” concept?  This book takes a non-academic approach, teaching in layman’s terms through one man’s experience.  You can take away what you will, but you may very well leave a tear or two on the pages.

There are websites now, a Project, initiatives to get the book out to the masses.  But the basic message is simple.

Love thy neighbor as thyself.

The Journey to Authenticity class that I’m taking continues.  We’ve worked to discover some of our current gifts, focusing heavily on the spiritual.  But what I’ve learned from my own work and the work of others is that we know these gifts; they are the qualities we admire in others, everything we hope to be — that is us, too . . . already . . . in this very moment.

The hurdle, of course, is whether or not we will accept the gifts we are given, whether we will receive our gift and then use it to give to others.  Perhaps this presents two hurdles (i.e. 1- accept the gift of being a writer; 2- write and share it with others).  We may not want to accept the responsibility that comes with claiming a gift.  We don’t want to make our life more difficult than it already is.  Chances are, we’re too busy to commit to yet another something-or-other.  Believe me, I know.

But do we really want to become stagnant?  Does it make you happy to watch reality t.v., eat your processed, refined, pre-made meals?  Are you just hoping that your kids turn out better than you? 

Wake up, my friend.  Now is not the time to be waiting.

We think we’re too busy, but unless all our time is taken up doing good for others, using our talents to the best of our ability, we’re not busy with the right things.  Re-evaluate.  Find your center.  Start over if you need to. 

Give yourself time, though; I’m talking years, if necessary.  Because this process takes time, you can’t wait until you feel like it.  It won’t get easier.  Take baby steps.  Keep your center.  Find a companion (or a few) to hold you accountable, to encourage you.  You may be surprised.  I know I am.

Happiness is an ever-elusive something we say we want.  It’s just a word, though.  For me, happiness is that feeling in a moment when I know I’m in the right place, when my soul seems to sing from within and shine without.  Often, we have to work for these moments. We have to keep growing, keep learning, keep the flow moving through us so that we don’t become stagnant.

Notice your gifts.  Honor them.  Claim them.  Use them.  And with all your heart, Trust, mindfully enjoying all the moments of happiness along the way.