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Waiting

We had a great Awakening the Creative Spirit weekend again.  This time my wonderful partner Betsey Beckman led us in storytelling, music, and song and the twelve holy women who participate were a gift to be with in their journeys of discovery.  After we closed our time together I looked outside and wished I had brought my camera.  Above the city’s rooftops, I could see beautiful Mount Rainier flanked by the snow-capped Cascades and the waxing moon, that is almost full, beginning to rise in the mid-afternoon sky. Unfortunately I have not been feeling that well.  First, right before we were leaving

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Holy Darkness

When we moved to Seattle the winters became more pronounced.  I didn’t think moving 600 miles north would make such a difference, but we easily have three hours more darkness in the winter than when we lived in Northern California.  It also feels more perceptible because the sky is often gray and the sun that much lower on the horizon as it makes her gentle arc across a winter sky. In contrast then, summer days are also much longer.  Days are filled with light in long expanses.  And while summers can indeed be beautiful here in the Northwest (of course anytime

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Advent Resources

Classes are canceled across Seattle today, my husband got the phone call at 5:00 a.m. notifying him (he teaches high school) and Seattle University posted their announcement soon after.  Apparently even though there hasn’t been much snowfall in the city, the low temperatures have made for icy and dangerous driving conditions.   Snow and below freezing temperatures are unusual around here and the city is not equipped to deal well, especially since Seattle is built on 7 hills, which makes for even more treacherous driving. Today was to be my last class session and I am sad not to have a chance to gather

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Waters of New Birth

Painting is “Waters of Baptism” by Tim Mooney Tim audited a class I co-taught while living in Berkeley.  A good friend and I received a grant from the Practicing Our Faith people to teach a class on creativity as Christian spiritual practice (you can read a summary here) in the spring of 2003.  It was a great experience, and we got to meet wonderfully creative and spiritually grounded students like Tim (a Presbyterian pastor, artist, and spiritual director) and begin exploring some of our ideas around creativity as a vital practice for church communities and ministry.  I got an email today from Tim,

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What Are You Birthing?

Advent begins next Sunday, the start of a new year in Christian calendars.  The word Advent comes from the Latin Adventus meaning coming.  It is a season of waiting with anticipation for the coming of Christ and the incarnation, God made flesh, culminating in the season of Christmas.   In Advent we are invited to be present to the tension between all of the not-yets of this world and the signs of the Kingdom we see here and now represented in Emmanuel, meaning God-with-us.  It is a tension between the promise we hope for and the glimmers of hope present at every turn.  Advent is a season

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Blessing the Bread

I just had to share two more things before I head to the airport.  I awoke early and so had time to discover a stunning post on Jen Lemen’s blog today about Love and another poem from Panhala, again by Lynn Ungar (according to Amazon her book is out of print, I think I need to make a point of finding a used copy): Blessing the Bread Baruch atah Adonai, Eloheinu melech ha’olam, hamotzi lechem min ha’aretz. Surely the earth is heavy with this rhythm, the stretch and pull of bread, the folding in and folding in across the palms,

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Giving Thanks

One of the things I love about Thanksgiving is that it is one of those holidays that has escaped a lot of the consumer frenzy (except as a preamble to one of the biggest shopping days of the year).  I also love that it is a secular holiday centered on feasting and gratitude. I have so very much to be thankful for, my heart overflows with gratitude for the abundance in my life.  A wonderful husband, relatively good health, great friends, work that I love, time and space to nurture delight, many layers of community and support, all of my wonderful

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Signs of Winter

I went on a lovely walk this morning, my usual 45-minute walk from my house, up and around Volunteer Park, and then back home.  It was a crisp and clear morning, another short break from the heavy rains we have been getting.  The leaves have largely made their floating pilgrimage to the ground.  They now wait for decay to release them into fertile compost for the new growth of spring still hidden deep in the soil.  Most of the branches are bare now, like dark skeletons in ecstatic prayers of adoration to holy sky.  Some of the willow trees still cling to their leaves, while other trees are

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In Preparation for a Pilgrimage of Ancestry

    Next summer my husband and I will be taking a five-week trip to Ireland and Austria.  We saved up our frequent flyer miles for free tickets and without a dog at home to worry about leaving behind for that long, we decided to seize the opportunity.  (We will definitely get another dog eventually, but have decided to wait until after this trip). Ireland and Austria may seem like an odd combination, but we each have roots in these places.  My father was Austrian and Latvian, he moved to Vienna when he was 12 years old during World War II to live with

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Cello Dreams and Synchronicity

I have been having dreams lately of cellos.  The cello is my favorite instrument and I have always wanted to learn to play sometime in my life.  The first two dreams were brief:  In the first I am lying down on a bed and a man hands me a cello and tells me to play horizontally and I can beautifully and it brings me great pleasure.  In the second dream a woman is teaching me to play cello, she is very demanding but only because she knows I can play well, and my fingers get raw from pressing the strings. Yesterday morning I awoke from a dream

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