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Service as Spiritual Practice

Happy Saturday. From my prayer chair to yours, I see you as Whole, Perfect, Complete, and a Divine Light in this world. I realize it doesn’t always feel this way, yet feelings can’t change what is True. I can sit in my prayer chair feeling broken and yet the Spiritual Truth is I am Whole. I can sit in my prayer chair and feel flawed beyond belief. And yet the Spiritual Truth is the flaws and all that I am is Perfect. And, I can sit in my prayer chair and feel as though I am not enough; something is missing and the Spiritual Truth is I am Complete. I sit in my chair to remember, to connect, and to allow the Presence to presence me. I designate a chair in my home as my prayer chair. The truth is all chairs are prayer chairs, yet I have designated one a sacred perch. The girth of the chair is wide enough for me to sit with my legs crossed,...

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ALOHA

I walked off the plane in Lihue after a long day. I took a flight from Seattle to San Jose then San Jose to Lihue, Kauai. The flights were full yet pleasant. No crying babies. No angry passengers. No heavy turbulence. No barf bags used. It was good. To catch the first flight, though, I am up at 3:45 am. By the time I arrive at my hotel it is fifteen hours later. Both flights sit on the tarmac for a long time before deplaning. I (luckily) make my transferring flight although there was no time available to use the restroom or purchase some food. Once I deplane at my destination, I, along with all of the other passengers wait to show proof we are vaccinated. My proof won’t load. I haven’t eaten anything more than a Southwest Airline bag of carbs for a snack. I am experiencing fatigue, hunger, and impatience. After twenty-five years of regular prayer and meditation I surprise myself when something so seemingly small activates...

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Gratitude’s Generative Power

  When my seven year old granddaughter is grateful, she jumps up and down, screeching inaudible noises while clapping her hands. Everyone around her knows she is grateful. Her auric field is on high alert of an energy akin to star twinkles mixed with chocolate candy Kisses. She is all in. And yet her gratitude, at age 7, is contingent on something tangible. Her grandmother is coming to town. The two of us are going on a date to see the latest kid movie while sharing popcorn in seats that recline. Or, she is getting a toy she REALLY, REALLY wants. And yet the spiritual journey invites us to be grateful regardless of condition. After a crappy diagnosis we didn’t want to receive. After losing a job we worked so hard to get. After a check or two or three bounced. And yet when things aren’t seemingly going our way, we can experience dejection and want to go to bed. Oprah tells a story of phoning Maya Angelou over...

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The Prayer Field

In my last blog post I shared a bit about my journey into the Deep Silence of My Soul. I always thought I’d write a book about it, but knew I needed to be marinated more before I was ready to share my experience and maybe the experience was mine to hold without sharing. Yet out of the seeming nowhere, I am now compelled to speak of my experience with some level of objectivity and reverence. During my three year sabbatical I experienced many different dimensions which were revealed to and through me. One such dimension I refer to as the feeling tone of suicide or oblivion. For a good week I wasn’t alive energetically. This was not a psychological experience, this was not an emotional experience. This was a full body, in a field experience. I could not see or experience any form of life within me or around me. For all intent purposes I was dead. Gone were my emotions. Gone was my thinking. Gone was my...

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Designing Your Own Memorial Service

I was 19, maybe 20 years old sitting in my college classroom following the instructions of my professor. “Write down the names of the three people you love the most on the three slips of paper in front of you.” I write down “dad,” “sister,” and “best friend.” Then we are to pass the paper to the front of the room. The teacher proceeds to burn the papers and tell us that our most beloved have died. I couldn’t and wouldn’t let go. I was angry. I hated this exercise. I was only 19 and hadn’t yet experienced the death of my beloved grandmother, let alone two generations younger. I wasn’t prepared for this exercise. This was part of my intense class on Death and Dying. Fifty hours in the study of death, grief, and cultural services to honor those who pass. Our next exercise would be to plan our own memorial service. We were to chart it out. Where would we hold it? I decided on the Episcopal...

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Connection is Service

Who and what are you connected to? When you and I experience connection; we experience a taste, a bit of home. We feel seen, heard, appreciated, and all of the good stuff our Soul knows is who we are and why we are here on the planet together. Connection happens in the most interesting of ways and often it is not an intentional practice (although it can be) yet it’s an out picturing of who we are at our best. My friend Glenda and I have shared customer service stories with each other for two decades now. The fascination is, we both are aware that true connection changes our world. Bad service happens when people are seen as objects to get from; and good service comes in so many different forms with connection as its undergirded constant. Happy Monday dear friends. Remember to love one...

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