March 16, 2013
Vayikra
Lev 4:27-29
There
is the understanding that no one is without flaw or guilt, but here's
the thing -- when you know what you have done, really know, you must
make the sacrifice.
You place your hand firmly upon the head of whatever your sacrifice is, and you acknowledge the truth.
The
slaughter, the true doing away with what has come before, how you/we
have sinned, the ways we have gone astray, the ways we have moved far
away, as far as we've ever been from the divine, we must lay that bare,
blood pouring forth, fat and innards separated until the real meat of it
is offered, smoked to an odor that is pleasing to that which is
everything -- a vaporous, ethereal, reptilian brain-bridge of scent that
crosses the divide of where we have gone, draws us back in, close to
the place where we are pure and whole.
All
transformation involves sacrifice. All addictions one day demand that we
leave them behind or be lost to them; we all have them. Sometimes the
hardest part of sacrifice and change is simply knowing where to begin.
The
heart will tell you if you stop and listen, mist and vapor lift us up
on wings of new freedom, ancient breezes and green leaves and old trees
and new seasons.
The reason is always, "because we are
holy" so we must give ourselves wholly to the task of unfolding back the
giant, quilted past to reveal the intricate patchwork of our world --
our choices, our decisions, our chances, our mistakes, our fate.
We
do what we can to draw closer, to move into scented air of divine
bridging, of knowing truth, of knowing ourselves, of reaching for God,
and we begin again, renewed.
Monday, March 25, 2013
Brilliance, Longing, Lust
March 9, 2013
Va'yakhel
Exodus 35: 4-10
Bringing our gifts to make the center
All of us have gifts. Rare and common, internal and external; we don't always value them in context, or even out of context, but we can move ourselves and others in ways that are unique and strange, grandiose and small.
Gold. Our brilliance. Our souls. We all shine. Maybe not every moment of every day, but maybe, underneath all the rest, it is every moment of every day. Imagine that. We are gilded in gold, coated in brilliance, shining to matter what the night sky foretells. Maybe we don't always see it, but it's there.
Silver. Longing. The heart. We are one people, one being, one entity, and we long to feel that connection. We long for it in our hearts, in our work, in our friendships, and in our families. We long to be_long. To belong to and be longed for. It is our silver nature, we all have it, we shall not be ashamed nor hidden before God, the Universe, YHVH, the source of what is.
Copper. Lust. The body. Honestly, truly, once we move past the layers of with whom and under what conditions and which social norms we will uphold or defy, lust and the body, the urge to physically connect, is part of us. We all have it. It moves us forward. The urge for pleasure, the urge to please another, the yearning and longing for the gilded future that we know we must create and live in. We use our bodies to build this. This is what we bring to the center, what we carry with us in kind company: brilliance, longing and lust for wholeness.
May we turn toward one another with this awareness and celebrate, not judge; honor, not destroy; for this is what builds the sacred and the future we step into every day.
We all have gifts. Come to love and respect them, value them. Bring them, our brilliance, longing and lust; our souls, hearts and bodies toward the center as we stand together in joy. Unafraid.
Va'yakhel
Exodus 35: 4-10
Bringing our gifts to make the center
All of us have gifts. Rare and common, internal and external; we don't always value them in context, or even out of context, but we can move ourselves and others in ways that are unique and strange, grandiose and small.
Gold. Our brilliance. Our souls. We all shine. Maybe not every moment of every day, but maybe, underneath all the rest, it is every moment of every day. Imagine that. We are gilded in gold, coated in brilliance, shining to matter what the night sky foretells. Maybe we don't always see it, but it's there.
Silver. Longing. The heart. We are one people, one being, one entity, and we long to feel that connection. We long for it in our hearts, in our work, in our friendships, and in our families. We long to be_long. To belong to and be longed for. It is our silver nature, we all have it, we shall not be ashamed nor hidden before God, the Universe, YHVH, the source of what is.
Copper. Lust. The body. Honestly, truly, once we move past the layers of with whom and under what conditions and which social norms we will uphold or defy, lust and the body, the urge to physically connect, is part of us. We all have it. It moves us forward. The urge for pleasure, the urge to please another, the yearning and longing for the gilded future that we know we must create and live in. We use our bodies to build this. This is what we bring to the center, what we carry with us in kind company: brilliance, longing and lust for wholeness.
May we turn toward one another with this awareness and celebrate, not judge; honor, not destroy; for this is what builds the sacred and the future we step into every day.
We all have gifts. Come to love and respect them, value them. Bring them, our brilliance, longing and lust; our souls, hearts and bodies toward the center as we stand together in joy. Unafraid.
Saturday, February 2, 2013
Exodus 20:1-15
We, all of us, have dreams. And we, all of us, stand before oneness and are blessed in abundance and love.
All that was promised, all our hopes and dreams, even if unspoken but held in our hearts and soul, are here right now. Stand up, take them.
Look around. Your dreams and my dreams, they may be different, they may be similar, but the biggest tragedy before us is to turn away and decide NOT to want, not to yearn, NOT to long for our own and others' wholeness, our communal completeness, the oneness that can be, and is.
Yes, it's conditional. Believe that YHVH is present for us.
Imagine a superhighway of love. If your great-great grandparents took the off-ramp, your family may wander a long time in Kansas before you, four generations later, find the on-ramp in Weston, Massachusetts.
Here are some of the teachings, the rules to stay on the highway:
Don't kill, don't steal, don't lie, don't commit adultery. Do not take what belongs to someone else. Keep honesty at the forefront, then forgive and be forgiven when we do wrong.
Work for goodness. Keep the Sabbath. Teach your children. Build your own relationship with holiness and YHVH. Build your relationship with your family and community. Let others do the same, in their own way, then stand side by side, hand in hand, in joy, as we are blessed by love.
Sometimes these tablets of stone are heavy, sometimes they are lighter than air -- that's why we all hold them together as one people, in truth and kindness.
Not just one at a time, but throughout time.
Our ancestors, Moses, Aaron, Miriam, our great-great-great grandparents, all those who came before us, they are still holding them, as we are, for the unseen but glimmering future our children and their children's children will carry forward before our very eyes.
We say "YES," we are blessed, right now... before... later.
Our authentic souls, our together souls, our "one people" soul, stands with our truthful hearts, imperfect and beaming, brimming with real knowledge of success and failure, bound and flowing with golden blessings of love.
We say "thank you" and take our place, hands extended, touching stone and earth and light, now and then, and forever.
All that was promised, all our hopes and dreams, even if unspoken but held in our hearts and soul, are here right now. Stand up, take them.
Look around. Your dreams and my dreams, they may be different, they may be similar, but the biggest tragedy before us is to turn away and decide NOT to want, not to yearn, NOT to long for our own and others' wholeness, our communal completeness, the oneness that can be, and is.
Yes, it's conditional. Believe that YHVH is present for us.
Imagine a superhighway of love. If your great-great grandparents took the off-ramp, your family may wander a long time in Kansas before you, four generations later, find the on-ramp in Weston, Massachusetts.
Here are some of the teachings, the rules to stay on the highway:
Don't kill, don't steal, don't lie, don't commit adultery. Do not take what belongs to someone else. Keep honesty at the forefront, then forgive and be forgiven when we do wrong.
Work for goodness. Keep the Sabbath. Teach your children. Build your own relationship with holiness and YHVH. Build your relationship with your family and community. Let others do the same, in their own way, then stand side by side, hand in hand, in joy, as we are blessed by love.
Sometimes these tablets of stone are heavy, sometimes they are lighter than air -- that's why we all hold them together as one people, in truth and kindness.
Not just one at a time, but throughout time.
Our ancestors, Moses, Aaron, Miriam, our great-great-great grandparents, all those who came before us, they are still holding them, as we are, for the unseen but glimmering future our children and their children's children will carry forward before our very eyes.
We say "YES," we are blessed, right now... before... later.
Our authentic souls, our together souls, our "one people" soul, stands with our truthful hearts, imperfect and beaming, brimming with real knowledge of success and failure, bound and flowing with golden blessings of love.
We say "thank you" and take our place, hands extended, touching stone and earth and light, now and then, and forever.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
When Almost Ready Becomes READY NOW
1/19/13
Exodus 12:29 - 33
There are so many things we think we cannot do -- until we do them.
This is that moment of DOING, when we discover there is something beyond where we have been standing for so long without even knowing how stuck we are; knowing the benefits of that stuck place.
It is, I want a divorce, I resign from this job, a positive pregnancy test, a diagnosis, a marriage proposal, the death of a beloved. It is the moment we move forward into the physical unknown without a safety net, or we die.
It's the acceptance of the full sum of our lives to this date, and the understanding that we MUST continue and somehow join with something that leads us. Call it YHVY, call it the Universe, it calls us into something larger, more connected, more intimate, than what we have had.
It is our souls' reaching for our natural place. And as we place the blood on our doorposts, take a stand against soul death, it's "Oh shit, what am I doing?" and it's, "I'm terrified!" and it's one step and then another and it's wet and the moon is full and the soldiers are coming and this YHVH killed the first born of the Egyptians, how do we really know we are spared?
We don't. But we go anyway, and tremendous acts of courage are propelled by fear -- fear of death, of disconnect, of the dangers of doing NOTHING. Nothing that leads us to the end, so in our sum total of fear and sometimes shame, of relative comfort and colossal unbeing, we move into that which has not yet been, that which has NEVER been before, and we co-create the future with every single step. And in so stepping, we become what is to become.
We are becoming, with every single step.
Exodus 12:29 - 33
There are so many things we think we cannot do -- until we do them.
This is that moment of DOING, when we discover there is something beyond where we have been standing for so long without even knowing how stuck we are; knowing the benefits of that stuck place.
It is, I want a divorce, I resign from this job, a positive pregnancy test, a diagnosis, a marriage proposal, the death of a beloved. It is the moment we move forward into the physical unknown without a safety net, or we die.
It's the acceptance of the full sum of our lives to this date, and the understanding that we MUST continue and somehow join with something that leads us. Call it YHVY, call it the Universe, it calls us into something larger, more connected, more intimate, than what we have had.
It is our souls' reaching for our natural place. And as we place the blood on our doorposts, take a stand against soul death, it's "Oh shit, what am I doing?" and it's, "I'm terrified!" and it's one step and then another and it's wet and the moon is full and the soldiers are coming and this YHVH killed the first born of the Egyptians, how do we really know we are spared?
We don't. But we go anyway, and tremendous acts of courage are propelled by fear -- fear of death, of disconnect, of the dangers of doing NOTHING. Nothing that leads us to the end, so in our sum total of fear and sometimes shame, of relative comfort and colossal unbeing, we move into that which has not yet been, that which has NEVER been before, and we co-create the future with every single step. And in so stepping, we become what is to become.
We are becoming, with every single step.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Judah before Joseph
MikketsGen 44:11-17
My mother is Director of Human Resources and legal counsel for the Newtown, CT public schools. This tragedy lands incredibly close to home. Selfishly, I am grateful that she has been home recovering from knee replacement surgery, but I know even from a distance, she and her coworkers are broken open. Numb and devastated, heartbroken and traumatized. They need time and healing and soul food.
The impulse for destruction is the Cain in all of us; the need Joseph's brothers had to plan to kill him, then delay that impulse by selling him into slavery instead. And then there is the unimaginable destruction that can happen when that impulse cannot be quenched.
The chaos that follows, the communal healing healing that must follow, breaks us all open. Our hearts and souls stand as one, bear witness and bow down to hold the communal suffering in Connecticut and other places where we are connected and touched.
We are all strangers in the land of grief. We wander the landscape that we used to know, and it is different now. The people we have known before become unknown to us; foreign.
Where are the touchstones that used to exist? Vanished. Unknown. No longer present.
It's like the world that used to hold color is only shades of gray now. Color no longer exists. We don't know if it will return. We don't know who we will be if it returns.
Grief transforms -- and not just for a magical purpose. We may survive, we may reconstitute ourselves and live, but we can never be the same again. We cannot go back to that "before" person. Part of what we have lost is that self we used to be. The parent, the mother, the father, the sister, the daughter, the brother, the son, the friend we used to be.
After this loss, it is no longer.
It reminds us how precious we each are, how vulnerable we are to randomness, violence, and how much we need each other.
Today, our souls reach out to still be there with patience and kindness. To help bear the ration of pain doled out to the Newtown community, because we are one whole, one being standing together.
May they find nourishment among the grief, soul food when they are hungry, comfort and healing as we stand together, broken open but not alone.May the time pass and grant the quiet restraint of Joseph, the standing-as-one of Judah, the wholeness of our brother and sisterhood of humanity, and the compassion and oneness of healing of Yud Hay Vav Hay, as we all grapple with our individual and communal rations of pain. May we find shalom in our hearts and souls as we stand to heal together.
x
My mother is Director of Human Resources and legal counsel for the Newtown, CT public schools. This tragedy lands incredibly close to home. Selfishly, I am grateful that she has been home recovering from knee replacement surgery, but I know even from a distance, she and her coworkers are broken open. Numb and devastated, heartbroken and traumatized. They need time and healing and soul food.
The impulse for destruction is the Cain in all of us; the need Joseph's brothers had to plan to kill him, then delay that impulse by selling him into slavery instead. And then there is the unimaginable destruction that can happen when that impulse cannot be quenched.
The chaos that follows, the communal healing healing that must follow, breaks us all open. Our hearts and souls stand as one, bear witness and bow down to hold the communal suffering in Connecticut and other places where we are connected and touched.
We are all strangers in the land of grief. We wander the landscape that we used to know, and it is different now. The people we have known before become unknown to us; foreign.
Where are the touchstones that used to exist? Vanished. Unknown. No longer present.
It's like the world that used to hold color is only shades of gray now. Color no longer exists. We don't know if it will return. We don't know who we will be if it returns.
Grief transforms -- and not just for a magical purpose. We may survive, we may reconstitute ourselves and live, but we can never be the same again. We cannot go back to that "before" person. Part of what we have lost is that self we used to be. The parent, the mother, the father, the sister, the daughter, the brother, the son, the friend we used to be.
After this loss, it is no longer.
It reminds us how precious we each are, how vulnerable we are to randomness, violence, and how much we need each other.
Today, our souls reach out to still be there with patience and kindness. To help bear the ration of pain doled out to the Newtown community, because we are one whole, one being standing together.
May they find nourishment among the grief, soul food when they are hungry, comfort and healing as we stand together, broken open but not alone.May the time pass and grant the quiet restraint of Joseph, the standing-as-one of Judah, the wholeness of our brother and sisterhood of humanity, and the compassion and oneness of healing of Yud Hay Vav Hay, as we all grapple with our individual and communal rations of pain. May we find shalom in our hearts and souls as we stand to heal together.
x
Sunday, November 4, 2012
How We Grow the Sacred Peace
October 20, 2012
Gen 8: 6-12
Raven
We try the old way. Same dark, same light, same fear, same hope, no change. Same results. A learning.
Dove + No Rest
We try again, something different, and it almost works. There are shifts and changes, but not quite... not quite there yet. This is when we must return to the source, the beginning, go back AGAIN, to pray, hope, wish, think, smile, with the fullness of our souls, the shifting balance of hopes and dreams, of light and dark, day and night. This is when the refinement, the longing, the learning of patience, the growing roots of change, really happens.
We can't skip straight to this step, no matter how practiced we are with our souls, with our failures and hopes. This is the heart of surrender.
Dove 2
We keep going, we don't turn back, we become ourselves again with great devotion. We believe that consciousness and learning, change and faith and patience, goodness and love, are one, and we are one with that oneness. Part of time itself, past, present and future, darkness, light, hope, fear, change, and what must be, and we touch down on the unbefore-sighted-but-imagined peace of holy, solid ground.
Gen 8: 6-12
Raven
We try the old way. Same dark, same light, same fear, same hope, no change. Same results. A learning.
Dove + No Rest
We try again, something different, and it almost works. There are shifts and changes, but not quite... not quite there yet. This is when we must return to the source, the beginning, go back AGAIN, to pray, hope, wish, think, smile, with the fullness of our souls, the shifting balance of hopes and dreams, of light and dark, day and night. This is when the refinement, the longing, the learning of patience, the growing roots of change, really happens.
We can't skip straight to this step, no matter how practiced we are with our souls, with our failures and hopes. This is the heart of surrender.
Dove 2
We keep going, we don't turn back, we become ourselves again with great devotion. We believe that consciousness and learning, change and faith and patience, goodness and love, are one, and we are one with that oneness. Part of time itself, past, present and future, darkness, light, hope, fear, change, and what must be, and we touch down on the unbefore-sighted-but-imagined peace of holy, solid ground.
Saturday, October 6, 2012
The Rock
What a long strange trip its been…
When we go forth each day, we know we’ve done wrong. We know
we are imperfect, and even so, there is love available to us each and every
moment, no matter what we have done. That is joy.
Think about it. We are flung from the stars into this life.
We miss the mark, we hit the mark, we forget the mark, we remember the mark,
and through it all, we are loved and we are redirected.
After this time of profound redirection, profound awakening,
profound experience, we are rooted in joy, but we must continue to go forth
into the oneness of life. Choosing to live in the swirling, moving, ever
abiding love that sometimes shakes us to the core and sends us spinning into
eddies and rivers where we face rapids we have never faced before, and then
gives us gentle springs and floaty days when we really know the bounty and
beauty of YHVH unfolding all around and within us.
These are the moments when we know the pain and glory of
redemption.
To begin again is to believe in something bigger than we
ever imagined. No matter the moment we went astray, the sin we committed, no
matter the fault, even when it’s really bad, we can rejoin the flow.
We are part of something bigger than even that big
moment in time, and we get to choose again and again and again, each season. We
get the chance to demand that YHVH show us the bounty of what is possible, even
though…
So guess what? I am choosing the good stuff.
Bring on the harvest, bring on the light, bring on the joy,
I’m ready for it. I have spent my time with regret. I know it inside and out,
and the only thing I can say is if you house regret in your bones without room
for redemption you will sink like a stone.
YHVH wants more for us, shelters us from the searing moments
that wrench the soul beyond space and time and then sends us back into our
bodies for all we can bear. But here’s the deal: YHVH stands with us. We can
bear this immense pain and this capacity for goodness, no matter the past.
This is our hope and our harvest. This is our joy. We have
been and we will be sacred, in all lights. We are loved. Remember the mistakes
of the past and then let them go. This is a new cycle. We are all lovable. We
are all loved. The only true mistake is thinking we are unlovable.
So go forth into the next cycle. Beloved. We face the
harvest of what we have sown. But we are all worthy. Every one of us, every
moment. Don’t forget. That’s the joy.
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