I Skipped Iron Chef!

If you’ve been hanging around for any length of time, you know that I often spend Saturday evenings watching Iron Chef America. Tonight, I got my fix at 6 and 7pm and then I fixed my supper and changed the channel.

Channel 9, in my case. WGCL which is a CBS station in Atlanta. One World TOGETHER at Home… a celebration of first responders and the countless others working to keep us all safe and fed and sheltered in these days.

This show was hosted by Jimmy Kimmel, Jimmy Fallon, and my personal late night guy, Stephen Colbert. That, all by itself, is something of a miracle.

Organized, in large part, by Lady GaGa, the big name types assembled to call attention to the $50 million dollars raised for the World Health Organization’s efforts to to curb the Covid virus pandemic and to shed light on first responders.

Now, I know many of us have differing opinions on some of the entities making headlines in these days. I suspect many of the folks who gave of their time and talent and resources to pull off television like this, with everybody performing, seemingly on one stage while sheltering at home, have differing opinions as well.

Yet, for a few moments in time, those differences were put aside to bring us together as one world, at home.

One of my personal stars was only there inside me. You may have heard me mention him before. Dr. H. Stephen Glenn was the force behind a program called Developing Capable People which changed my life, especially as a young, single mom, and went on to change the lives of the countless people I’ve shared the work with over more than 30 years of leading DCP groups.

Here’s the punch line…

There’s no such thing as failure. Only experience to be learned from. 

I’ve been thinking about that a lot in these days. And I’ve realized that there’s one thing I’ve learned that Steve didn’t have a chance to learn in the same way because he passed on before he could experience it the way we are just now.

Yes…

There’s no such thing as failure. Only experience to be learned from. 

But that assumes the ability and willingness to learn.

I’ll let you do whatever math on that works for you, because just now a physician from New York City said, with tears in her eyes, that yes, she had heard New Yorkers singing from their stoops and balconies every evening in thanks for health care workers. And then, asked what she would say in response, the doctor replied that she wanted everyone to know, “If you can’t hold your mom’s hand, I’m there to hold your mom’s hand.”

Right after that, a young woman I didn’t know before, a singer named Lizzo, belted out a fabulous version of a song I love  by the legendary Sam Cooke.  The name of that song is, A Change is Gonna Come. 

And that, I think, is the prayer of this moment for almost all of us, including Michele Obama and Laura Bush who joined forces to speak out for getting through the crisis together.

Right now, I’m going to go find another box of Kleenex and watch some more. And while I watch, I’ll be giving thanks for all of those willing to learn who came together to speak and sing and give for all of us together. And I’ll be praying. For me and mine. For you and yours. And for all the “thems and theirs” who share this planet with us and those we know.

May we stay at home together, and be safe, and willing to learn. And may the change we so need come soon. Amen. Amen. Selah.

ps… A charming pink young lady named Abby Cadabby (who’s new to Sesame Street since Dave’s days with “Bernie and Ert”) says that when we have feelings about all the changes, “It helps to give yourself a hug.” Thanks, Abby! And thank you, Lady GaGa!

pps… Abracadabra can be translated, I will create from the word. Let this be our prayer. (Veg and herb seeds, freshly planted, work, too! And paint brushes!!!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Making Sacred Space

A dear friend told me today that she was having a Marie Kondo tidiness moment during this inside-out (Or is that outside-in?) time we’re in.

I hear that!

I wish I was doing more than listening. Actually, I have been. Homework, to be exact. Lots of it! Making it. Taking pictures of it. Fixing it. Losing it. Finding it again. Dreaming it. Swearing at my laptop on behalf of it.

Part of me feels something approaching fulfilled.

Part of me wants very much to set the studio right. Not just neater. Weeded in the way that fills the recycling bin and puts homeless things on the curb with Free signs.

I want to dust baseboards. Really! Besides, the pollen already has me sneezing so there’s not much to lose!

I want ALL the paintbrushes clean. Not just the ones I use the most. Not most of them. Every. Last. One. And, when the new paint arrives tomorrow, I want a place to put it, all lined up according to my quirky system of which favorite colors go with which.

When all is said and done, I want Sacred Space.

I want room for new-ness.

Even deeper than that, I want healing. Me. You. Mine. Yours. Ours.

And “they’re” all ours in the ways that matter.

Some of the work is begun. The floors are splashed with creativity. The walls are dotted with prayers. Images my girls helped make rest here and there. And, close inspection is likely to find some Studio Angel fluff in the hard to reach corners.

The studio has become even more my sanctuary in these days. Paintings are asking for hearts and prayer dots and tears on their cheeks. Or, perhaps, they are offering to hold them for me.

And, when you get right down to it, all that homework which has been messing up the studio has been creating sacred space inside me where I can share it even in these days of Compassionate Distancing.

Art actually may save the world!

ps… I just pushed the magic button, dispatching all the homework, probably to California. Watch for updates… Maude, the Storytelling Ape is hatching new possibilities!!! (And she told me her name!) Blessings…

pps… Many, many thanks to Leisa, Natalie, Molly, Cherie, Hobby, all the brilliant Musea gang, everybody else, and the Legendary husband!!! It takes a village to finish Motherboard!

 

There’s a Hymnbook in My Head

There is, indeed, a hymnbook in my head. It’s an odd, patchy old thing covered in bits of dark green and faded burgundy and a bright lapis-ish blue with purple around the edges.

It doesn’t get much use these days for I can usually summon the words and tunes I need on demand, rather like YouTube music videos. I’ve been thumbing through it for several days, now, searching for an Easter hymn that feels real in these days of Compassionate Distancing and lunatic autocrats. Days when I’m missing my girls hunting eggs. Days when something ancient, deep inside me, wants desperately to smear lamb’s blood on our door frame.

Last night — well, actually very early this morning — my hymn found me. Perhaps you know it too. It begins like this:

God of grace and God of glory,
on thy people pour thy power;
crown thine ancient church’s story;
bring her bud to glorious flower,
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,
for the facing of this hour.

Lo! the hosts of evil round us
scorn the Christ, assail his ways!
From the fears that long have bound us
free our hearts to faith and praise.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage
for the living of these days,
for the living of these days.

The triumphant organ music is missing. Oh, I could summon it if I chose, but it doesn’t feel right, somehow. This year, my hymn is sung a’cappella, probably with the help of cell phones and some sort of mystical space/time editing I don’t need to figure out in order to hear the music in my heart. And the singing goes on:

Cure your children’s warring madness;
bend our pride to your control;
shame our wanton, selfish gladness,
rich in things and poor in soul.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,
lest we miss your kingdom’s goal,
lest we miss your kingdom’s goal.

Save us from weak resignation
to the evils we deplore;
let the gift of your salvation
be our glory evermore.
Grant us wisdom, grant us courage,
serving you whom we adore,
serving you whom we adore.

I’ve known this hymn for ages. I needed to know, in this moment, its writer and its context. Here’s what I learned…

Harry Emerson Fosdick wrote these words in 1930 for the dedication of the Riverside Church in New York City. In the middle of the Great Depression, between two World Wars, “Fosdick was a champion of the social gospel, a movement that recognized the plight of the poor, especially in the urban Northeast during the Industrial Revolution.”

In an article on the history of the hymn, a professor of sacred music named Dr. Hawn goes on to say that, “Under Fosdick’s leadership Riverside Church was interdenominational, interracial, without a creed, and, astonishingly for Baptists, required no specific mode of baptism. At the center of Fosdick’s ministry was urban social ministry.”

All of which sheds light on the reason that it is this hymn which found me now.

In this moment, I must close my hymnbook and go back to my homework, some of which includes a thing called Sacred Scribing. Ideally, I would have done it before, but it somehow seems appropriate to this day. Perhaps I’ll scribe “my” hymn.

First, though, the blessings of this season be with you and yours.

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May you know grace and glory, wisdom and courage, in your own way and may we, each of us who are paying attention, do what we can so that as many of us as humanly possible might be passed over.

Amen. Amen. Selah.

 

Crossing the Bridge!

It’s been quite a while since I was a Brownie Scout. I’m sure there are many things I’ve forgotten. Here’s one I remember:

When my friends and I “graduated” from being Brownies all the way to becoming Junior scouts, there was a ceremony. The ceremony involved a small wooden bridge in the gymnasium of the local elementary school. Each of us walked onto the bridge and stopped in the middle to say the magic words. Then we walked the rest of the way across, newly minted “big kids”. My mom always swore my dad cried!

Oh! The magic words…

Twist me and turn me and show me the elf. I looked in the water and saw myself!

I’m reasonably certain you’re wondering what on earth brought this to mind, let alone to blog-land. That’s easy! I crossed another bridge today. But, before I tell you more about that, there are a couple of things you need to know.

If you’ve been reading along for a while, you may have noticed occasional mention of a mysterious thing called Motherboard. Translation: Intentional Creativity® Coaching. I’ve been learning and practicing and pondering, not to mention buying markers by the truck-load since late last summer, to be a certified one of those coaches and graduation is looming before us, soon!

I have no idea whether an actual bridge will be involved but there have been plenty of figurative bridges along the way. The one I crossed today was one of the figurative kind.

Here’s the short version…

In the ICC pattern, two real, live people sit down together, often in the mythical world of Zoom, with some large-ish sheets of paper and an assortment of pens and markers. (Paint takes too long to dry. Chalk smears too much.) The photo, above, will get you in the ballpark.

One of those two is the Coach and the other is the Client. (These roles are fluid in the learning stages and may flip flop back and forth.) Today, it was my turn to be the Client.

After a bit of deep breathing and some gold “roots” in an imaginary journey, we moved along to, “What wants un-stuck?”

Wow, did I have an answer! It had to do with talking about what I do in the context of life in the Covid virus days.

My partner, the Coach, offered me a tool that was new to me. Again, the photo, will fill in the blanks.

Bottom line… externalizing (my language) all my inner yelling about what felt stuck. Swearing permissible, but not necessary.

Then, what I’d choose, intentionally, to say, having gotten all the ranting and raving out of the way.

I won’t bore you with the details.

I’m hoping you’ve gone hunting for a piece of paper and something that makes marks. Eye liner, if necessary!

Here’s the bottom line, or what I learned as I crossed the bridge from stuck to un-stuck…

I have lots of the power that gets things done. Starting with a business card, all designed, and a big reminder that the more my girls see me using my power to get things done – to get unstuck – the more they’ll take a chance on having some of that power of their own!

This was an awesome day’s work!!! And I am hugely grateful to Natalie, my partner, and to our mutual teacher in IC land, Jumpin’ Jenafer Joy who introduced Natalie to the magic spiral thing.

I kind of wish the story of this day had ended there, but it didn’t. When I emerged from Zoom land, I discovered that Bernie Sanders had suspended his campaign for POTUS. I wasn’t surprised. I am heartbroken.

You can fill in the blanks according to your particular perspectives.

Here’s what I know. Bernie is a guy with YUGE power to get things done and I’m beyond grateful for all he’s helped me see and learn and live. And I’m grateful for the fact that, in many ways, Bernie has been and will be leading the USA through the Covid crisis and into the future.

A future in which, as Bernie (echoing Nelson Mandela) said, we must believe that we deserve health care and education and civil rights, etc., etc., not just personally, but as human beings. There was more, but I’m crying again.

And holding on to my power, not over others, but to get things done. We have more bridges to cross. And I have a very important hearth to tend in the Red Thread Cafe Classroom this day.

 PS… My friends at Learning Strategies and Centerpointe are offering a free sound meditation for days such as these. All you have to do is click Surviving Chaos and you can download the meditation to your device and listen to it as often as you please. I downloaded mine this morning. Now seems like a good time to go soak it up!

Giving the Pen to the Muse…

Yesterday was a good day in the way that sometimes happens when the world is upside down and you work your butt off trying to claim what’s true.

It started with an Intentional Creativity® livestream event called Magi, and led by Shiloh Sophia and Jonathan McCloud. You kinda had to be there, but you can! www.amazingmagi.com

We meditated and moved. We pondered things like etymology and history and legends and messages for the future. We listened deep inside and drew images of some of the things we hold most dear… the things we most long for.

It was daring work. Especially when we gave the pens to our Muses.

I learned a whole lot. And I’ll tell you more about it soon.

For this moment, though, my Muse asked for the pen (okay, the keyboard) again and I agreed.

She led me to a post from the past, tugging at my sleeve and insisting that these were words (and music!) for today, as well.

I’m not going to change them at all. (I promised.) I’ll simply ask you to notice the date this was first published and read with ears for then and now and the now that is still to come. I trust you!

(Oh… there were some technical problems with posting this which have something to do with updating my version of WordPress. Very scary!!! Also in progress, in hands more experienced than mine. All you have to do is click below where it says Continue reading. (After you click, when you get to the place where there’s a book title and then a blank square, keep scrolling. There’s a whole fabulous story, just past yet another tech issue…) Please Click!!!!

https://sueboardman.wpengine.com/we-shall-not-be-moved/

Are You Hearing Confession???

One of my theology professors had a decidedly un-Reformed sign outside his study door. It read “Confessions heard Wednesdays 4pm.”

At least I think it was Wednesday at 4:00. Which, coincidentally, it will be, here, in about 10 minutes!

I’m pretty sure George got the sign at a junk store. I’m also pretty sure he was kidding.

I, on the other hand, am not kidding. Here’s mine…

On Monday, seemingly out of nowhere (as long as “nowhere” is code for divine inspiration) I had an idea!

An idea for a way I could actually help people doing a whole bunch of adapting in the midst of the Corona virus chaos, one of whom is me.

The same idea has the potential of letting a wider web of people know what I do, which seems like a good thing.

And, even better, it was an idea I actually believed I could just go POOF and make happen.

Today, with the help of a dear friend, I was ready for a test run.

Enter a bit of reality.

Let’s just say the technology was not quite as intuitively obvious as I dreamed it would be! (And yes, if you know me you’re welcome to laugh!)

The photo bears witness to the one line I actually managed to get on the demo paper. It’s a great line. Some of you may even recognize it as the beginning of a face!

And the really, really good news is that the dear, helpful test run buddy could see it! (This after about half an hour of camera, sound, signal and, undoubtedly, user error sorts of challenges!)

My friend, who probably would much rather have stayed to play with me, had to go see a guy about a leaky basement.

Here’s the confession part… I was ready for an old fashioned Southern comeapart. I blocked off half an hour on my calendar, until the canine fine dining event, busted out the really, really dark chocolate, and sought comfort in my magic chair, complete with my favorite quilt.

Giving her enough time for me to eat one row of chocolate squares, I let my Inner Critic have her say about how clueless I was and how old my toys were and how nobody ever actually answers the way-out questions I ask.

Then I tempted my Muse out of hiding with two rows of chocolate squares. She reminded me that my idea was actually a good one and people really did need this process. She also mentioned that there are a whole bunch of diplomas with my name on them hanging in the basement which might suggest that I’ve learned some hard stuff before. I was breathing more normally by then so we took a break to feed the beasties who want you to know that they were very polite and grateful.

Back in my chair, I invited my new imaginary friend, the Storytelling Ape, to help me tell you about my day. The Storytelling Ape uses her powers for good and is undoubtedly related to the Muse. (Thank you, Sam and Veronica, for the introduction!)

Just then, a surprise happened!

The Legendary Husband came wandering in with today’s batch of mail and a box I didn’t recognize. Who did I find inside but the embodied Storytelling Ape who used to live at EBay but has, clearly, now taken up residence in the Studio, ready to help!

And now that the Storytelling Ape, the Legendary Husband, and I all know a great deal more about what I didn’t know I didn’t know, my idea is a whole lot closer to becoming real. And, just for a bonus, I have progressed, in the last few hours, to the point where seeing myself on Zoom has actually started feeling like a good thing!!!

I’ll keep you posted! For now, hugs and much love from all the gang at my house to you and yours. Be safe. Be well. And check around for your Storytelling Ape!

 

If I Ran the Zoo…

With apologies to Dr. Seuss, my head seems to have appropriated the title of one of his famous books and it’s running like a loop inside me.

I’m pretty sure one of the lines is, If I ran the Zoo, I know just what I’d do…

Anybody with me???

Let’s agree together that it’s not necessary to be experts in anapestic tetrameter, as the good doctor was, to get in the conversation! (Not even The West Wing tried to explain this one, but, if you grew up since the time of the  Boomers in the USA, I’ll bet it’s in your head!)

Skipping, for the sake of positive vibes, the first 482 things I’d do, I’ll move along to one I actually have some influence over.

If I ran the zoo, I know just what I’d do. I’d feed those who are ill big bowls of real soup. That’s just what I’d do.

And, since one of those who are ill is one of mine, too, the soup pot is feeling quite special just now!

At this point, I’m going to count on you to keep up the whole metric thing, if you like, so I can share an actual recipe. (I tried to buy fish soup – the patient’s request – and have it delivered but it seems there is none to be had so old-fashioned was the order of the day. And my heart is happy!)

Well, maybe not a recipe, so much, as a process…

  1. CHECK WITH RECIPIENT FOR ALLERGIES!!!
  2. Pull out your biggest pot. Figure the dimensions of about 1/3 of the pot’s volume. (Hand gestures are helpful!)
  3. Procure bony pieces of fish equal to the volume estimated above. Preferably white fleshed fish like grouper, halibut, etc. (Salmon is good but makes a stronger flavored broth which isn’t always optimal for those who are healing.) In my case, 2 big heads and a meaty fish “collar” which is the neck piece. *If you happen to have left-over crab claw or shrimp shells in your freezer, and I did, you’re good. If not, add more fish, or head-on, de-veined wild shrimp, up to about 1/2 the volume of your pot.
  4. Place raw fish pieces in stock pot. Cover with COLD water, about 2″ deeper than level of fish. Add between 2 Tbsp. and 1/4 c. (depending on size of pot) acidic liquid (white wine, apple cider vinegar, white balsamic vinegar, or fresh lemon juice… I used 1/2 white balsamic and 1/2 lemon juice.) Allow to rest, covered, at cool room temp for 45 min. This draws all the healing magic from the bones and cartilage and into your broth!
  5. Bring to just boiling over med. high heat. Skim, using the closest thing you’ve got to the magic wand in the photo above, removing foam and fuzzy stuff from surface several times until you can tell that you’ve won.
  6. While magic comes to boil, roast crab/shrimp shells, if using, in 450 F. oven, drizzled with good olive oil  for 15 – 20 min. until they smell fabulous. Add to skimmed pot and skim some more.
  7. Add aromatics and herbs as desired. (Onions, garlic, thyme, rosemary, fresh bay leaves, fennel fronds, carrot feathers, parsley stems, celery leaves, proportionately to your pot.) If you need to add additional water, it must be steaming hot!!! 
  8. Reduce heat and simmer, lid off, for at least 2 and up to 4 hours. You want medium sized bubbles breaking the surface gently – not boiling!
  9. Remove from heat. Drain, strain, scoop carefully as needed to separate broth from all the solids. Discard solids. (Really! All the good stuff is now in the broth.)
  10. Cool broth on counter until cool enough to add to fridge. I use stainless water bottles, filled about 2/3 full, that have been frozen to speed this along.
  11. Strain again, if needed.
  12. Chill overnight in fridge. Package, freeze, and label, leaving about 1″ headspace in containers. (DO NOT put hot broth in glass or plastic containers! I use BPA-free plastic. Glass breaks and ruins everything.)
  13. While magic broth is freezing, set up an appropriately “distanced” arrangement for delivering. This may well involve text messages and leaving by the door. We’re being adaptable, here!

Broth may be heated gently and sipped from mug or bowl, with or without additions such as chopped veg, cooked rice, additional fish, etc. (Given current circumstances, I’d suggest heating broth/soup briefly all the way to a boil before serving.)

Take a bow!

If you’re like me, there are still things you would do if you ran the zoo. I’m with you. This is one that we can manage, which makes it – or your version of it – a great place to start. And if, like me, you have a really big pot, you’ll have some magic for you and even more to share.

We’ve got this! (With much appreciated help from the Legendary Husband!)

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