Category: SuperPower Path

Yes, I’ve told a piece of this story before, because some stories are important enough to come around again and again… and they often bring different messages in different moments!

Once upon a Sunday morning, quite some time ago, 11:00 arrived as it almost always does, and it was my turn to preach. There were a few challenges, that particular day.

It was a Sunday in October. A Sunday for which the Lectionary (a complicated calendar of which scripture passages are “for” which day) was utterly unprepared!

You see, in addition to it being the whichever Sunday in Ordinary Time, it was also Stewardship Sunday in our congregation, on Pink Ribbon Sunday for breast cancer awareness, in National Domestic Violence Awareness month.

Yep! Money, sex (well some people think so) and power all cued up for Sunday morning.

Three things you learned, if you were raised right in the time and places I was, not to talk about!

But I did. Because I couldn’t have lived with myself or faced the Creator of my understanding if I hadn’t. I mean, real people – struggling with those things – were sitting in our pews and not talking about those things wasn’t going to help anything get different!

This time feels just like that, somewhere deep in my raised right heart, which has learned a whole lot of new things in the last few years.

One of those new things I’ve learned is just how much politics is tied up with things like breast cancer research and treatment. And with things like domestic violence laws and enforcement… or not.

And then there’s the whole issue of who is real-enough to have civil and human rights. Today. In America.

It’s a really, really big issue and we’re not going to get it solved here, just now.

Earlier today, though, I listened to a recording of one of my Sister/Mentor/Teachers talking about these issues as they impact women and girls. I was scribbling pretty fast but this the center of what I heard:

Sisters… it is not our job to prove our worthiness but to CLAIM it! (Elayne Kalila Doughty)

I would add that it’s our job to protect our worthiness – our status as intentionally created humans – for ourselves and our sisters and all those who will come after us.

And, yes, politics is another of those things many of us raised right folks were taught not to talk about.

I’m not sure it ever worked. It certainly isn’t working now!

There was another thing Elayne reminded me of today. In modern/post-modern times, it’s only been about 100 years that women could vote and have resources in their own names and run for office and make their voices heard. And fewer years than that, in many cases, for people of color.

And maybe – just maybe – all the current political chaos is a planned effort on the part of way too many rich, powerful men to take away those rights and powers in order to protect their own agendas.

So, here’s my idea… let’s learn some of the tales of women who were wise world leaders in the old days. Back when raised right meant defending their families and homes and beliefs. Back when raised right meant learning and teaching and participating in world-changing events. Back when raised right women named Garsinde and Joan and Jacquetta and Boudicca and Mathilda and many, many Marys claimed their worthiness and changed the world for all of us.

And, then… let us, too, claim our worth and speak and lead and heal. And so it is. Here’s a glimpse of what that claiming looks like on my easel. Squint for today… she’ll be clearer soon!

ps… the top painting is deep under-layers of what became, about a year later, Grandmother Moon! And, it volunteered to step up and become a mug, bringing the colors of pink and purple ribbons for hope and – if you squint just a bit – a rainbow! Grandmother Moon insisted on a special offer – just for you and those you love – during the month of October!

pps… wondering what YOUR piece of speaking and leading and healing looks like? Here’s a fast, free, fun way to get more clarity!

Hurricane Ian has torn a ragged path through Florida. Through the part that still lives in the box in my head labeled Home!

I am hugely grateful that my dear ones are safe. Shaken. But safe.

So many are not.

There was a woman on the news, blaming herself for how scared she had been. The primary caregiver for her paralyzed husband, unable to leave, she recounted strapping him to his bed and cushioning him with pillows for protection.

Then, as she told the story, she sheltered – terrified – under a table, unable to both comfort him and protect herself, so that she could continue to care for him. She shamed and blamed herself on national TV. And they both survived.

I wondered, as I watched and wept, how many times we do that to ourselves, with or without prompting from a hurricane.

How do we come home to ourselves, with or without a literal hurricane, and pick up our lives with new visions?

Here’s the place I’m starting in the figurative, largely chosen, path of the storms of my own journey. The journey represented by a painting called Legend.

No matter how many stories I’ve collected, how many diplomas I’ve earned, how many books I’ve read – and written – I can’t actually carry a Medicine Basket with everything in it. It’s time for some sorting and releasing.

And that’s okay. In fact, it’s a blessing. It’s a lot like packing for a trip and choosing to take along what works now. For YOU.

I won’t bore you with the leaving behind bit. Let’s just say that, for me at least, it’s lots of other people’s rules for other times and contexts. Also, lots of meetings about the way things ought to be.

Instead, along with my SuperPowers, I’m filling my Medicine Basket and calendar with space! Space for creating. For discovering. For helping others – just like you – along their journeys. For Love.

There are a couple of new vocabulary words in the basket. And a bunch of new symbols. And some ancestors who feel like they’re walking with me. They’re mostly in charge of helping to carry the courage, for I hear John Denver singing in my ear….

Coming home to a place I’ve never been before…

And, frankly, I have no idea what’s around the next curve! What I do know is that my calling is to put one foot in front of the other – in my own way – noticing and wondering and learning as I go. And being okay with the mystery!

My Medicine Basket is ready. And so am I!!!

ps… relating to the mystery bit? I hear you! And sometimes different questions – ones you haven’t encountered in just the same way and time – can help! HERE ARE SOME, JUST FOR YOU!

pps… Daphne has signed on for the journey, too! Bears are very good at the kind of courage which replenishes us with power. She’s slipped some energy for healing wounds and making travelers whole again into the Medicine Basket!

It’s been an interesting weekend!

Painting. Appliance repairs. A slumber party. Stories… mostly of change!

Five years ago, I was engaged in a journey called The Black Madonna Pilgrimage. My FIRST Intentional Creativity® adventure. My first painting.

(Well, except for walls with rollers!)

In the midst of that enormous learning experience, my friend, from the first day of 7th grade, was having surgery for a brain aneurism in the midst of hurricane season.

I made prayer dots, layers and layers of them, until the weather cleared enough that I could go help.

My first hint at how much my life was changing was how much I missed my canvas – my Black Madonna becoming manifest – and my dots!

My friend is doing well now. Blessed be! And we had an old fashioned slumber party to celebrate and catch up. Life has been a bit hectic for both of us!

We told stories. Not the cool kid stories so popular in middle school slumber parties where everyone is trying desperately to fit in.

The real, deep, authentic, questioning journeys of both our lives, now. Surrounded by all the paintings on my walls. And by dreams.

The photo at the top of this post begged to be included.

A giclee’ print of The Fiercely Compassionate Grandmother, aka my Black Madonna Pilgrimage painting. And, yes, the original hangs in my friend’s home which is as it was meant to be.

Then, my current w-i-p… Insight. She’s still choosing her forever name, even as she’s becoming. And teaching me soooooo….. much!

And, what looks like a white background, but is actually my next Legend painting. That starts tomorrow, after my recent beginning found a new home!

All of this memory/vision energy sent me on a hunt through photo land… and I found what was calling me!

The intention. The very first layer of that very first painting.

It came from an old quote in the Quaker tradition…

In order to learn, we must be willing to be changed.

I first encountered that notion at Eckerd College, while I was filling out seminary applications.

I was both resistant and intrigued.

After a whole lot of struggle to be me, through the terrifying single mom initiation, and the what will I do with my life questions, I wasn’t so sure about letting something change me.

Those words took root, nonetheless, deep within me.

They are, in many ways, blooming now.

And, yes, it has a lot to do with the whole bit about input and filters and maps.

Though the map has recently become a basket. A medicine basket!

Among the essential things in that medicine basket… perceptual tools, mark making supplies, and a big ball of Red Thread!

And, just in case you’re in a place that feels like a mysteriously important journey, I can help!

THE FIRST STEP is an adventure in Zoom Land. You. Me. Less than an hour. Red Thread. And some help from the calendar elves! It’s my gift to you!

Or… if that sounds too big, CLICK HERE for some guiding questions you can ponder deep inside!

ps… Legend the next has decided that willing to be changed is an empowering intention for now, too! That means we’re already on the way! Who knows? Another slumber party may be involved!