wounded healer?

my friend suggested to me that the way she experiences me is as ‘shaman and
healer’, earth mother, friend, sister, a strong spirit- steward of the earth- a
voice to bring the feminine sensibility back, a voice for wholeness.
‘Where there are people searching for wholeness you will shine the way.
You have in three short walks completely woken me from my sleep under water which was so very painful to me- restored my sanity and my health, and you have always managed to do so’

i don’t know about that, but i am grateful for the reminder that my woundedness itself is somehow gift, that my own vulnerably visible search for wholeness give permission to heal. for this moment, at least , i can embrace the ‘wounded healer’.

i am finding it interesting the way in which my friend, of whom i had recently lamented the  giving away of my newfound alone time, has now named for me the christ presence that i carry to her, has proclaimed the essence that i bring forth. and so the giveaway comes back in some way.

i wonder now about my body saying ‘no’ with this illness. i wonder about the energy transfer in that. what was drained from me in those walks (and elsewhere) that needs restoration.

and i wonder about my initial saying ‘yes’. did something in me know (something besidesvthe difficulty i have in saying ‘no’ to any call for nurture from another) thatvhere might be a portion of the answer to the ‘who am i’ that has been naggingvme?

was then the need indeed mutual. mine for her, hers for me…

quiet at last

my summer and early fall has been, once again, a time of increasing external
distraction and being pulled up from my sense of god in the depths. i notice
this each year, the way in which my summers are so very difficult for
me to stay connected to my self. at times, i can honor that this connectedness to others is also a very important part me, and obviously deeply valuable or i wouldn’t so often choose it over time alone when presented with the option.  still, i am aware that at least some of the choosing is a wounded choosing.

this is the first i have sat at the computer, praying and listening, like this for months. alas, even the computer can become just one more distraction as i am more likely to find myself surfing the news, reading quite fascinating articles and history, but not listening to myself, especially during times when i am otherwise distracted.

its as if i try to fill the sense of emptiness with noise, or quiet the nagging voice over my shoulder by drowning it out. summers are always a time of taking in (reading, etc), not listening, hmmmm, of trying to stuff the emptiness.

it also seems as if something in me is very ‘all or nothing’. in other words, if
i can’t have the spaciousness to completely go inward i can’t seem to move in
that direction at all. and it seems the space to turn inwards is
just so hard to find unless i am completely alone. i obviously have not yet
learned to value the being available to the quiet whisper within as much as being (all too readily) available to the seeming ‘urgencies’ without. what i am trying to say here is that everyone else comes first and its a long line 🙂

alas, i find myself with some quiet today. my body simply said ‘enough’ and i am sick…just enough to put me on the couch but not enough to knock me out. oh, the wisdom of the body….

my daughter finally feels moved out, at least for now.  i spent some time in her apartment last week, helping her to settle in and build the nest, so to
speak.  so this is the first week i have some alone time in many, many
months….that is , alone time enough to follow the call inward long and far
enough to reach my self.

interestingly, a lost friend (the same one whom i quoted above) called for breakfast the day after i returned from philadelphia. and we have been walking mornings since. but what i am noticing this morning, since my body said ‘no’ to the walk, is the opportunity for spaciousness that i simply gave away to her need (or was it also mine…).

 i have found the walks to be a place where she can process aloud to a listening heart. yes. something in her is stirring awake….as is something in me. oh the mirror!

i have been searching for something to fill my nagging sense of emptiness of
late (politics, etc), and that was part of my yes to her, i suppose. a boredom, a space to fill, a wanting something to fill my days. but also community, mutuality, real connectivity, sharing.

i am hearing so clearly this morning in these moments of quiet at last, that the fullness for which i yearn is found within. the voice, pleaing for that ‘something more’ in my ear, which i has been nagging me for so
many months is quiet at last this morning.

driving the car

i have a sense that i am in the midst of transition, much like a mother in the
transition stage of childbirth. it has been a painful time in some ways and i
truly cannot yet see the new life that is being born in me.

i am nearing the end of the active stage of mothering, my husband is nearing
retirement, and i am wondering what this new life might look like. sometimes
the fear is overwhelming, as my husband’s imaginings and my deepest desire
often don’t feel very congruent, and i worry about being swept off into a life
again, not of my (conscious) choosing.

and yet i really have no anchor, no deep sense of self or of call that keeps me
from being carried along. one ‘good’ moment in the past several months was a moment when i ‘lost control’ (hmmm) with my husband and son in the car and i forced my husband (physically) to stop the car and let me out. at the time i was feeling unheard, diminished, misunderstood and misrepresented by my teenaged son.

as i think on this instance today (then, i was totally shocked, and then guilty, at my wild loss of control, as were my husband and son) i can see it is a metaphor for my life at the time. if i look at the scenario as i would a dream, with someone else ‘driving the car’, i can see the total sense of groundlessness/anchorlessness that i was experiencing, and there was something in me rising to claim her own authentic self….

letter to my lover


i have been remembering this morning the portion of our wedding ceremony where we spoke of honoring the spiritual journey that we were choosing to travel with one another, where we stated our intention to consciously choose this path of marriage, trusting in the presence of God to go with us there. i don’t have the pages here in front of me, but i recall the passage of scripture. it goes something like this

3 ways are mysterious to me
4 i cannot understand
the way of the eagle in the sky
the way of the snake on the rock
the way of a ship on the sea
and the way of a man with a woman

these vows are meaningful to me and i recommitt myself to them, and to you, and mostly to trusting in the presence of God deep within them and within our joined lives, moving us, growing us, inviting us, calling us forth through the love that we share.

i deeply appreciate your attending to what you noticed in me the other night. i’m sorry we did not have more time to explore. i do miss those conversations with you. friday nights and saturday morning breakfasts have been lost somehow…

anyway, this feeling you noticed has been with me for some time now. i have also been aware that the flip side of my ‘lack of passion’ is a deep passion for
‘something more’. the feeling of emptiness is a longing for fullness. i have
suggested that it is like a voice just over my right shoulder, a voice
whispering its discontent and desire all at once, nudging me to embrace

what i want to say here to you is this. you have not taken from me anything. a life in the convent is not more holy, nor more filled with the presence of god, than a life journeyed in marriage. my choice to be on this journey with you was and is my desire and my vow. i honor the promise god made to me, saying ‘yes’ i’ll go with you there. the three of us can dance, there is room enough.

my desire for intentional community, which melanie and i dreamed of during our lunch on tuesday, is perhaps simply a desire for intentionality, for attentiveness, for depth.  i do wish to be more intentional about attending to the Presence, to honoring it in the mundane. that is my work, i suppose, consecrating each moment, no matter what i ‘do’.  perhaps that is part of what i mean by living a soulful existence, that turn of phrase that so confused you.

oh perhaps i do ‘think too much’, as bob once said, but i simply cannot ‘go
through the motions’ of life. there must be meaning for me. there must be god for me.

sometimes i do wonder who i am. often, in truth. i wonder if there is some
specific gift which i am to bring forth. i remember the girl i once was, who
believed she had been whispered to by god that she was like mary, and was going to give birth to the next jesus…. and so the voice over my shoulder has been with me for so very long. it just is frequently drowned out. how am i called to give birth to god in this place? what is the gift that i bear for the world? what does it look like?

maybe it will become evident someday… but i think likely not, at least not to
me. perhaps others see it, perhaps i give it already. i don’t know. i do know i
won’t find it anywhere ‘out there’. i will find it ‘right here’ .

no, i needn’t jump ship to find the ocean. i am swimming in it. with you.

%d bloggers like this: