It's been a while...

Living in the woods, I am delightfully aware of the changing seasons. My senses are heightened by the colors of shortening light and the holy hilarity of the marigolds as we enter October. I relish the last few ripening tomatoes.

A dear friend once gave me a postcard that showed a painting of a tree by Van Gogh. My children were growing to adulthood and I was in a new place in time. She wrote that my ongoing fecundity would show up in suprising ways. In addition to producing offspirng, fucundity is the production of new ideas.

The end of an era in church leadership has allowed a time of rest and reflection about how I might remain similarly fruitful. Fecundity. New ideas.

At any rate, I’ve pursued a number of studies related to resilience and rest. I simultaneously seek to use my voice and to remain silent. I love to move and to be still.

And I am still listening…

YES. NO. MAYBE SO.

No. And I mean “No.”

 

No doubt about it. You’ve often heard that “No” is  a complete sentence. If you are like I am and are usually ready to say yes to requests, it’s important to learn the value of recognizing your boundaries by saying no.

 

There are definitely times when the word no is simple. It means no.

 

Often words have at least two sides. The value of no protects you from overextending or saying yes to something that you don’t have time for or frankly don’t want to do. On the other hand, I am suggesting that you don’t say “no” too quickly.

 Yep, you read that right. Before you offer a unilateral no, consider the following:

Explore the possibilities.

How might this work? What new solutions might appear by brainstorming? “We’ve never done it that way before.” can be replaced by “I wonder what might happen if we try it this way?”

Take a minute.

What’s your objection? What is this request triggering in you? Where does that live in your body?

Are you saying yes or no to please someone?

“Praydream”

 What an evocative word! The word “Praydream” is attributed to St. Ignatius.[1] He was said to spend a lot of time praying and day dreaming simultaneously. Imagine the possibilities.

 

Your Turn:

 Do you have an automatic fallback when you are asked a question with a yes-no answer? Pay attention to this. Do you most often say “yes?” Or do you say “no?” How might it help you to pause and consider before you answer.

Is there room for a third way to approach the question? Sometimes the best answer is neither “yes” nor “no.” (This is definitely my favorite.)

Sit with the questions. Early 20th century Austrian poet Rainer Maria Rilke, suggested “Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves…” Reflect, journal. Praydream. Pause before you answer.

[1] Thibodeaux, Mark. Reimagining the Examen: Fresh Ways to Pray from Your Day. Chicago, Loyola Press, 2015.

 

 

 

 


 

 

 

 

 


 

 

Spring in Your Step

I’ve been looking at a lot of my old blog posts as I return to my spiritual direction and soul care practice. A lot of these start with words like “Years ago…” or “I remember…” No judgment there, but I wonder about turning a corner.

How about you?

While I believe that it is important to know history in order to avoid mistakes, I am just so over looking at life through the rearview mirror.

It’s spring. It’s a new season, and the winter of our discontent is over.

Walk with me as I navigate life with the energy that comes from curiosity and resilience.

 What Holy Invitations are your sensing? What is tugging at your heart? Do you hear God calling you to something new?

Follow that new path. Just take one step and then another.

 Your turn:

 Make a list of ten things that you’d love to try. This list doesn’t’ have to be perfect. Just go for it!

What surprises you? What keeps showing up?

Do you have a talent that is waiting to be developed?

 

How do you see yourself growing?

 

What are you dreaming about?

 

Are there new relationships and friendships that you’d like to explore? Or are there existing friendships that you’d like to develop in a new way?

So Good to be Home

After a time away from this space, I am glad to be home again—writing and reflecting with you.

As the season changes and temperatures begin to drop, doesn’t it feel good to begin to cozy in? These last few days I’ve been thinking about how grateful I am to be safe and secure. And yet, I recognize how important is it to continue to grow.

A spiritual director I know once reminded me that while the fields lie fallow there is still a lot going on under the surface. As you enter into this pre-holiday season, take a little time to notice what’s going on deep inside.

Would now be a good time to start at least one new practice? I’ll be offering possibilities as the days grow shorter.

For today, enjoy the cozy. Grab a cup and a sweater. Maybe take a stroll. Cozy in to your thoughts and begin to gently reflect. What gentle growth can you imagine going on deep inside?

What are you waiting for?

On Advent and other things this time of year.

 

Are you kinda sorta busy? Getting a little glittered out? Wondering which spiritual practice you are supposed to be doing?

 

You know, sometimes less really is MORE.

At the moment I’m slowly walking through a webinar on Spiritual Burnout and Resiliency for Caregivers through Spiritual Directors International. The presenter is Allie Kochert, MA, LPC. You can learn more about her at https://www.alliekochert.com/blog

Yep, you guessed it. I am doing this both for professional and personal reasons. Who hasn’t had a busy year?

 

Here’s a quote that stopped me in my tracks today:

 

If it’s good for your soul, do it—Simone Biles

Sit with that for just a minute.

 

So what are you waiting for?

Bloom Where You Are Planting

Yes, you read that right.

 

Just the other day I was writing in my journal and meant to say, “Bloom where you are planted.” I inadvertently wrote, “Bloom where you are planting.” Before I went back to draw a single strikethrough to correct it, I stopped to wonder: How DO I thrive from where and what I am planting?

 

This time of year, my primary garden chores tend to be transplanting and reworking the planters and gardens. For me, that means pruning back what isn’t working anymore, or more than likely, is out of season. Some plants didn’t thrive as they weren’t in the right place at the right time. For others, through trial and error, it became apparent that while it was fun to try an experimental planting, it was time to love them and let them go. Just not mine to have.

 

Lessons learned.

 

Are there things in your life that bloomed for a season and now need to go? Things that no longer serve can be rooted out to make room for something new.

 

I love to incorporate plant themes in my borders, planters, and beds. That creates a visual rhythm. In order to do so, pruning allows for propagating new starts from existing plants. Are there parts of your life that have grown out of proportion and need to be cut back to put more energy back into the roots to allow for renewed vitality and growth? Maybe they can grow elsewhere at another time and place.

 

There’s still time.

 

What seeds are you sowing?

 

Fall gardens have a different rhythm that is slower developing, but longer lasting. Through responding to the growing conditions, you can produce in all seasons.

 

Do your goals and plans reflect changing conditions?

STILL LISTENING

Years ago there was an old radio program that began, “It’s been a quiet week in Lake Woebegone…”

That could certainly be said of the last year. Have you noticed how quiet it has been?

On one hand, that has meant the absence of social interaction and community. It’s been lonely and in many ways a time of unrecognized grief. Loneliness has been described as a pandemic in and of itself.

On the other, it has allowed more time to be still. How remarkable it has been to sit and thoughtfully consider what matters most.

For me one of the most valuable aspects of Spiritual Direction is the privilege to sit and listen—to be fully present in order to honor someone. Sometimes we talk and sometimes we sit together in contemplative silence. And that’s why I call my practice Still Listening.

Paper White Revisited

It was back in December that I wrote about the image of a paper white bulb. It didn’t look like much. Its roots sought sustenance. It held within it hidden possibilities. It eventually would flourish. Blossom gloriously.

 

Boy, howdy!

 

The paper white experiment turned out quite differently.  I got a rash from the bulb. And although it still hasn’t bloomed, the leaves have remained green. There are signs of life.

 

So, what’s with that?

 

And really, more importantly, why would it matter?

 

First, I won’t bore you with details of the irritation that it caused. The worst part was the literal unrest. Eventually and in time I experienced healing.

 

But would you mind if we take a minute with that in a metaphorical kind of meander?

 

You need to know that I am a fan of conflict--not the kind where people are killed and maimed--but the spiritual kind that offers both danger and opportunity. Those things by which I am irritated and frightened bring both a sense of danger and an opportunity for some real growth.

 

Sound familiar?

 

So, what about your life right now? Maybe things haven’t turned out the way you expected. While your plans still show signs of life, none of us are sure what’s happening next.

 

We do what we can to stay safe. Pray for those who are in contact with the disease. Practice good self-care and use protective measures. Show compassion as best we can.

 

Many folks I know have had something to say about hopeful change during this time of pandemic. Many are grateful to slow down and love each other.

 

That’s something.

 

 

YOUR TURN:

 

Where do you feel conflicted at this time?

 

Have you experienced both danger and opportunity?

 

Where have you found Hope?

 

Where have you loved and been loved?

The Paper White

In recent weeks, I’ve moved to a historic home in the center of the family farm, celebrated with my remarkable family, and left a beloved single office for a cooperative space. Occasional indecision and exhaustion have lived in my very bones.

We’ve welcomed a new baby to the extended family and comforted some dear friends as they mourned the death of elders. There have been deep tears of both joy and sadness.

As with the paper white bulb, I’ve tentatively trimmed away some old roots. Tiny new ones are barely discernible. These minuscule white nubs are reaching toward the water where they will receive nourishing refreshment and sustenance. As a result, and with time, the bulb will flourish and blossom.

It’s simple really. Trust as you move in the direction that gives you life.

YOUR TURN

What are you thirsty for?

Where have you needed to trim away old roots to make room for new growth?

Have you had to hold onto Hope as you reached toward something unseen?

Where are you experiencing surprising joy?

"Be joyful in hope…”

Romans 12:12 NIV

Something I Learned in School.

 

I’ve been sharing this poem by John Phillip Newell, the former director of the Iona Community, a lot lately.  Newell has a particularly remarkable way of picturing Hope.

 

Thanks Be to You

In lives where love has been born this day

thanks be to you, O God.

In families where forgiveness has been strong

thanks be to you.

In nations where wrongs have been addressed

where tenderness has been cherished

and where visions for earth’s oneness have been served

thanks be to you.

May those who are weary find rest this night.

May those who carry great burdens for their people find strength.

May the midwives of new beginnings in our world find hope.

And may the least among us find greatness

strength in our souls

worth in our words

love in our living.

(https://heartbeatjourney.org/weekly-prayers/page/6/)

May the midwives of new beginnings in our world find hope.

Isn’t that wonderful? Living in Hope is my permanent address. And I love—really love—to provide gentle, sustained encouragement to support new beginnings.

May is graduation month. Talk about new beginnings. So full of promise. And may I suggest that offers the invitation to pause and think about what you learned in school?

Once I was an assistant in a university classroom where one of my jobs was to ask questions to support students to clarify the basics of what they were learning. My mentor provided punctuation at the end of the class in the form of a daily two-minute journal activity.  Students were instructed to write a brief response to reflect on what they had just learned. Some days he put the following writing prompts on the board:

 What?

Now what?

So what?

 

 Your turn.

Consider taking a minute to stop and reflect on this poem. If it’s your practice, write your responses. Or not. You don’t have to know it for the test and you aren’t being graded.

 What? What’s your takeaway? Are there phrases or words that stand out or resonate?

 So what? Why does it matter? You know, REALLY matter?

 Now what? How are you called to respond to what you have just learned?

 

School’s out. Hope’s in.

 And from St. Benedict: Always we begin again.

On Thirst

On Thirst

 

My work has turned to the topic of discernment—both personally and professionally. It’s a new kind of journey. And while I often walk amidst verdant roads, I find myself occasionally parched. This is made all the more difficult by false steps.  I sometimes lose my way.

 

Jan Richardson has written a series of poems for Lent about wilderness (Circle of Grace, pp. 91 and following.) Images of the desert evoke a longing in me to be satiated in my desire to know which paths to walk in.*

 

These poems have wandered by my desk recently. Okay, let’s get real. They’ve parked on my reading pile and plan to stay for a while. I wonder if they might speak to you along your way.

 

On writing about the desert, Richardson says in an excerpt from “Where the Breath Begins,” pp.101-102:

 

If you have come here

desolate,

if you have come here

deflated,

then thank your lucky stars

the desert is where

you have landed—

here where it is hard

to hide,

here where it is unwise

to rely on your own devices,

here where you will

have to look

and look again

and look close

to find what refreshment waits

to reveal itself to you.

 

 

While she is writing about being filled with Breath of the Spirit, all desert imagery causes me to long for a long cool drink that satisfies.

 

Are you thirsty? Do you need a drink of Water?

How are you following those longings for true refreshment?

Digging deeper?

 

*Jeremiah 6:16

So Are You a Counselor or What?

No, I am a spiritual director.

A spiritual director is similar in some ways to a pastoral counselor. We don’t have the same scope of practice. One way our work is different is that while spiritual directors also offer a safe confidential listening space for clients, we don't focus on prescriptive advice.

Some of the folks that I work with are clergy or clergy spouses. Many are caregivers. Almost all are busy. Typically, they need room to explore or sit with their own questions. It’s good to have someone who can listen. No judgment. No “I can fix that for you.”

If you are in transition and looking for discernment about the next steps, I can help you look for different kinds of prompts or activities as a way to unpack what keeps bubbling up. As I listen, I may ask clarifying questions as you consider your thoughts. Did I mention that it’s strictly confidential?

My Springfield, Missouri, office is between National and Fremont, just south of Battlefield Road. It’s private, quiet, conveniently located.

Inquire at maryhallchiles@gmail.com (new email) or phone me at 417-268-7408.

Merciful Light and a Board Meeting

 Fr. Ken begins every Vestry meeting with a prayer and message from the Book of Common Prayer. This sets our hearts on things above as well as we prepare to talk about programs, plans, and roof repairs.

 As we read about the setting of the sun and the end of the day, Jesus as the Light of the World is especially relevant. It’s cold and dark outside.

 Each time, we listen to the Gospel for the day. Last time we heard the story of Jesus healing a blind man.

 This man was blind. He needed to see. His friends saw that he needed to see. Seriously, the guy needed to see. So that was surely his greatest need.

 May I interject that I speak of this with a degree of insight as a former caregiver for a dearly beloved family member who lost her sight? She lived in total blackness. There was no spot on the horizon to focus on. So, she was out of balance. She was lonely. Her life was devoid of color. There was no day or night and like the blind man in the story, she had to rely on others.

  And yet when Jesus asked the man in the story what he needed, he simply asked for mercy.

 Sometimes when we are in the dark, it’s hard to know what we need. We’ve all got those times. And yet what we need most is God’s Mercy. Mercy is compassion and forgiveness that offers freedom—a Light in the Darkness.

Do not be afraid. You don’t have to sit in darkness.

Let the Light of God’s Mercy show you the way.

 

Just ask. 

(Originally written for The Clarion, Christ Episcopal Church, Springfield, MO)

Have I told you lately?

 

Have I told you lately that I love you?

Well, Darlin, I’m telling you now.

 

Recently I said goodbye to a longtime friend and co-worker. I’m not sure that we’ll meet again on this earth. The words of an old Willie Nelson standard just came out of my mouth. Kind of corny, right? And yet the words were so right that we nearly wept with the truth of them.

 

The words just came out of my mouth. Because they were true. This friend and I have had a lot of interaction over the years. That’s code for sometimes it’s been rough—still code for the reality that all relationships have their ups and downs, aches and pains, joys and heartaches. Isn’t that the nature of love?

 

In this leave-taking suddenly I was poignantly aware of how much our friendship meant to me. I realized that at the heart of it all was love.

 

So even if you’ve got reasons to be angry or hurt, don’t ignore the love. By all means acknowledge the importance of boundaries. Speak the truth kindly. And in the midst of the messiness of true friendship, tell them how you feel.

 

Have I told you lately that I love you? Well, Darlin’, I am telling you now.

Thus sings my soul: Holy Listening

St. Benedict says to listen with the ear of your heart.

 

Think about your favorite song, anthem or sung liturgy. Is it the melody or the words that shimmer for you? Do you like to participate or listen? Do you have a favorite musical time of year?

The choice of hymns as well as the selection of anthems for the Christ Episcopal Choir (with whom I gratefully sing) changes to fit with the seasons of the church year. Knowing the context and story behind a song makes it all the more meaningful. The combination of sound and poetry of the Psalms express the gamut of human emotion. Hymn tunes can console and challenge.

For example, the sounds of Advent accompany the anticipation of the celebration of the birth of Jesus. The fulfillment of the Incarnation of Emmanuel, God with us, resounds with Glorias.  The Lenten anthems and hymns prepare us for the Passion and Death of Christ followed by the ultimate celebration of the Christian life—the Resurrection. Trumpets and timpani resound. The contrast of sounds echoes our despair and joy at the telling of the centerpiece of our belief.

Music offers gentle comfort through times of grief.

A favorite author, Christine V. Paintner in her book Lectio Divina, Transforming Words and Images into Heart-Centered Prayer writes about how God speaks to us in a slow and careful reading of a sacred text. While many may be familiar with the idea of lectio divina, there is something called audio divina through which God speaks to us in what we hear.

Take some time to allow the beauty of the music to flow over you. Paintner suggests to consider holy listening through answering the following questions:

As you listen to a hymn or anthem, what shimmers?

What do you want to savor?

What summons you to act?

How can you be stilled by the melody and message?

Listen with the ear of your heart.

 

After the holiday joy, it's good to rest for a while.

Okay, I'll admit it. If I were to tell you my life story, you'd learn that somewhere between life as a high school honor student who became a sorority girl and a wise grandmother,  I was a bit counter cultural. I was a natural childbirth advocate and a homeschooler of seven kids. It was whole grain and organic all the way.

Even today, I do not always side with the majority in matters of life and faith. 

As I write by the radiant warmth of the wood stove, the frigid countryside is very still. The sound of logs burning keeps me company. The dog snores at my feet. The rest of the family is off visiting a cousin.  

In response to the onslaught of ads for planners and goal setting that have appeared in my inbox, I recently sent a few friends the following message. May I share these counter cultural thoughts with you friends as well?

Take some time this month to breathe.

Just be yourself.

No resolutions.

No goal setting.

No agenda.

Quiet.

Blessings in the new year, dear ones. 

 

 

Vespers in the morning?

 

 

I have always loved anything to do with vespers. So it isn’t surprising that a poem by that name caught my attention during the early morning quiet.  “Vespers” from John O’Donohue’s To Bless the Space Between Us (New York, Doubleday, 2008, p.183.) enthralled me with phrases like “the basket of twilight brims over with colors.”

 

However, most vivid were the lines:

After the day’s frenzy, may the heart grow still,

Gracious in thought for all the day brought,

Surprises that dawn could never have dreamed.

 

It’s simple really—the beginning of the day leads to end. Throughout the day may I be aware of ways surprises heretofore undreamed of graciously dawned today. And as my heart grows still in rest may I be grateful.

The Wheels on the Bus Go Round and Round

Just this morning a yellow school bus rumbled by on the country road in front of my house.  The early days of the school year always tug at my heart.  This month is a great time to jump start a beginning of the year tune up.

Here’s a simple no stress way to do that.  Consider four areas of your life as the wheels of a car.  Answer these questions to consider how you want to proceed.

Physical Aspect

Have you had a nudge to take better care of yourself? Do you eat, sleep, and move the way you want to?

Emotional/Social Aspect

Are you taking time for healthy relationships and fun? Do you allow yourself opportunities to be creative and enjoy your interests?

Vocational/Intellectual Aspect

Are you doing the work you feel called to do and keeping your mind (and skills) sharp? Are you learning new things?

Spiritual Aspect

Do you meditate or pray? Are you allowing time for quiet reflection and reading? Are you engaged with others in a like-minded community?

It's all about staying in balance.