Tag: Peace

to have peace that surpasses understanding

Words in Sentences

Aces, Trust & Remedied Lilies

by Erin1 Comment on Aces, Trust & Remedied Lilies

UB40 is playing on my “Three Little Birds” Pandora Station and the mildly annoying chatter of two teenagers and my sweet Lucy rattles and laughs against the clank of dishes and commands of dogs (<< plural for poetic effect, though I am so preparing my heart for the right puppy number 2) from the kitchen. Ranger is not by my side, surprisingly, but is in the kitchen – hoping for an Alfredo noodle or some cheese or pretzel crackers to be dropped to him during the process of cleaning up.

I? Am in my writing studio, wanting to capture this week – this moment in time. My whole life, it seems, is coming together – tightening correctly, woven seams. And the reason I am confident in this is based on the fact that it is based on what I am seeing happening in *other people’s lives*.

But, this is the fun part of trying to find the threads in my own life. Let’s start here:

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So, when I bought my house (two summers ago), there was this big circle pod of day lillies right in the middle of my lot. Pretty, but odd. So last year, I dug them all up and put them in new corners, some in new rows and some in the trash :) And when I finally saw this crew in the one corner of my house bloom – this fleshy peach and ruby – I couldn’t help but feel some sense of validation in me doing what I wanted to my yard.

Sometimes, I don’t do what I want because it directly changes or opposes something somebody else intentionally did. The way my yard looks lately is proof to experiment with your own way.

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This is from Tuesday. That’s my oldest daughter, rounding home – listening to music – with a pack (complete with a full water bottle) – on her scooter. She was coming home from my brother’s house who lives up a few blocks east of me. This sight of independence was actually a reflection of my trust in her.

And let me tell you –

Seeing your trust in other people is a beautiful sight.

<insert prayer for the spiritual math on trust, giving trust, and building trust>

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So, the other day, I did not could not would not cut my grass. But it was uneven. And there were weeds. And some high spots. And it just “didn’t feel right”. So I poured a little bit of margarita and weeded. Checked it out. Wasn’t good enough. So I got my edger out and trimmed it up. Checked it out. Wasn’t good enough. Pulled out my mower and whipped through it. Blew off the clippings. Hosed off my porch. Wiped things down. Put everything way. And… twenty minutes later when it started to pour – I stood on my porch, in my Superwoman tank top (picked out for me by my daughter in a California Thrift Shop) and felt the power of doing things to your personal standards, even when you really don’t want to – and that relief, that satisfaction of having it done right when it’s complete.

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Wednesday night was an interesting one. It came with a dose of “personal conflict” as I decided where to spend my hour by hour over the course of logistics, farewells and seeing one of my best friends. As I was leaving the house where my daughters were swimming, I saw this on the host’s wall. And I love it. Because, at the end of the day, there is family, there are friends who love like family, there are friends, there are acquaintances and there are complete strangers. And I grew thankful I have family, of course, but especially aware of friends who love like family.

But you have to prioritize those friends who love like family. Those don’t grow overnight. Seasoned friendships deserve you, in your fullness.

This week has been really full of a lot of happiness. I almost can’t believe it. It hasn’t always been easy. But I can gladly say I am no longer learning from certain past mistakes but that I am actually a learned person. On our hike Thursday, Ellen started her inevitable complaints. But as soon as my agitation grew, I remembered I knew this was going to happen. And I also know not to get worked up. Go slow. Offer lots of support and encouragement. Validate everything she is feeling. Kick her in the butt when she needs it, but coach her through the experience. Then be quiet. Draw boundaries (ok no complaining now until we are half way). Let her get upset. Let her cry. Watch her frustration and pain and suffering chip away at the outside. Watch the process. Don’t battle it. Then, on the downhill side, watch her joy emerge. Watch her adrenaline kick in, see her gem. Watch her get excited. Wait for her to say it wasn’t that bad. And be thankful you didn’t lose it, because that would have really ruined the time.

Then, go get a milkshake.

Then, go jump in a pool.

Then, go home and take a shower.

Put on your favorite V Neck tee and go to dinner.

With a deck of cards.

PEACE.

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Words in Sentences

Praying Through Loss and Longing

by Erin1 Comment on Praying Through Loss and Longing

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It is my hope that if you read this, you will find a way into a new rest, into new peace – in whatever you are going through.

About two years ago, I was introduced “Ardas Bhayee” a prayer in sanskrit comprised of these words:

Ardas Bahee, Amar Das Guru, Amar Das Guru, Ardas Bahee.

Ram Das Guru, Ram Das Guru, Ram Das Guru, Sachee Sahee

If you click on the link above and listen to it, you’ll see it is really beautiful.

When I was taught this prayer, I was taught it is the perfect prayer. The meaning behind the words are the collection of mind, body and soul – when you pray these words, your voice threads together the needs of each of aspect of your life and you lift up your exact everything to God.

I think that a lot of times, what holds us up in prayer is the “figuring out” of what to pray for. We end up blocking our own faithfulness with over analyzing if God gives us “this” than that means “that” is likely and we are not sure how we feel about “that”. Or – because we know that what is best will take place – we don’t boldly approach the throne with what is we really long for. And then we may even question what it is we long for and feel like maybe we don’t deserve it, maybe we messed up too much to still qualify for it, or you long for a past chance.

These thoughts compound, the tea kettle sounds, the day starts and the prayer never happened. Because you could never figure out what to pray for.

So, there is a lot of freedom in this mantra and just the opportunity to hear the sounds of the beautiful sanskrit and fumble through singing along until all the sudden your heart has figured it out: you hum some words while sounding the ones you are confident in.

I cherish the freedom in knowing that this silence of mind and this sound of the heart and voice are doing all the work I didn’t have to do in the first place. The work I felt I had to do in master planning my life in order to know what to order from the divine is relieved. Instead, I can just lift it up through these words while I clean my house, brush my teeth, sit still.

This whole thought originally came about two days ago when I was in a moment that involved the remembrance of two very important people in my life: Kristi, who passed maybe 6 years ago now and Spindley, who passed about 3 years ago. Kristi taught me trustworthiness and loyalty. Spindley taught me good humor and friendly motivation.

To say that losing these two people was hard would be an understatement. Even now, my heart twists at the fact that they died. And I think that a lot of times, when we lose people in our physical life that had significance to us emotionally or spiritually, we try to will them back.

We look for signs of them. We want them by our side in moments. We feel their presence and breathe it in and are so thankful for the visit. And we want them to come back again for a visit through a cardinal or a butterfly or ladybug.

And this is awesome.

Equally – what is awesome – is when we take the opportunity to shift this perspective just a little bit. What happens when we feel the inclination to will their spirit and character to our moment and resolve, instead, to dedicate the moment to them.

In their honor, to their spirit – a nod to their legacy – we perform the work, we move forward. Not because they showed up and gave us the chills and gave us what we needed. But because they were here on this planet and taught us, loved us, at one point in time and now we can honor them with strength, courage and action.

In doing this, I believe, we balance our consumption of the supernatural with a generosity of spirit and a commitment to being the person they loved so much, a commitment to the attributes we have that made their eyes twinkle and their smile go wide.

I think that, if you try this in the new year, while we are all so set on a new world – a new culture – a new sense of community, that we can free ourselves from the dependency we have created on our capacities to understand God’s subtleties. As surely, we know not all the ways we are loved. Rather than ask, sit and wait for a sign. What if we, instead, identify the spirit and the underlying prayer in our hearts not (only) as something to know and speak and share but something to feel and fumble through and breathe into? It is my thinking that this will make us bolder and light up our spirit from the inside. We will become stronger people of light.

In Romans 8 there is a verse I love love love love love – (vs. 26) where scripture teaches to breathe. Just groan. Just sigh. Don’t think. Just heave it out. In that connection of your physical body and your breath, the spirit intercedes – the spirit prays – on your behalf.

We don’t need to figure it out, friends. We just don’t. If we get knowledge and gain understanding from that knowledge, what a blessing! But it is not our job to seek “knowing” out in a way that distracts us from the true fluidity of the spiritual nature of our souls. That inner pool where God wants you to just sit.

Rest.

–Let your waters be still.

Know the Lord is with you.

There is a lot of peace in this.

XO, erin

 

Words in Sentences

Faith in Faithfulness

by ErinLeave a Comment on Faith in Faithfulness

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I think it is easiest to look at a situation we are in, identify what we want to see in our life, come up with a couple of options for how it will play out / what that chapter could look like, and then figure the future will hold one or the other.

This makes sense.

We have seen a lot of lives take on new chapters. In other people’s lives. In our own lives. In movies. We pretty much know the ways typical story lines end. People with cancer get chemo and either get skinny and lose hair and survive or they don’t. People in bad marriages either get counseling and experience change or they get divorced. Rebellious teenagers get a come to Jesus wake up call or grow out of it. People waiting for a baby either have fertility treatment and end up twins or adopt (or maybe even adopt and then get pregnant.) These are examples of big things that happen in life for which we predict the next chapters.

Then there are small ones: people longing to live without clutter either never organize that closet and take that on as a part of their identity or spend a Saturday and finally purge. People wanting to change their body either lose weight and tone up with some kind of cross fit hi-jinx or maybe find the right pair of yoga pants and jeans and smile and accept their body.

The bottom line: I think we should want our chapters to change. We should want growth. Even if we are in a good place, we should be excited for possibility – newness – connection. It is important to know that next chapter is out there. Especially so if you are in a current season you would like to see change.

I love the idea of being really honest about what that next version of your self looks like in order to be aware of ways to get there.

It’s empowering, really.

But then what happens when you’ve drummed up that vision and then you’re stuck in the middle of September: you’re super tired, you haven’t woken up early like you have planned, the paper you subscribed to has been stacking up, you paid your car payment twice, your face doesn’t look right and you throw away the brussels sprouts you were really really excited to broil when you ran into them on a beautifully calm evening at a farmer’s market? You feel wasteful, unintentional, and a little bit confused.

What happens when you are on a very odd tangent of what you want your life to look like?

When you know the outcome you want but seriously have a hard time aligning with it?

What do you even pray for? Why do you pray? How do you pray? You’re close. You can sense change but it isn’t there yet so HOW DO YOU GET THE PAGE TO TURN?

In preparation for a presentation to my yoga peers towards my certification (I graduate in NOVEMBER), I pulled out a bag I keep close to me: in it are all of the prayers from the past three women’s retreats I have attended. I have made it a part of my experience to pull them down at the end of the retreat and pray over them, pack them up, and visit with them (in reverence) every once in awhile.

The weight we carry in our lives never ceases to amaze me. The healing we crave, the baby we want to meet, the iteration of ourselves we want to operate from, the clarity – the peace – the love, the relationship, the satisfaction, the confidence. These are real things.

The human experience is legit heavy.

But – I think I stumbled into a lightness. Seriously – I think I had a breakthrough coming into October.

If there is one thing I know in my 35 years, it is that there is *always* something revealed to us. There is. I am going to avoid a whole tangent on suffering right now. Because I want to focus you in on considering the difference here between these two statements:

“Staying determined on what you want from God for your next chapter”

“Being faithful to God’s faithfulness”

Truly, they should *feel* different from each other when you read them. Read them again. On the next inhalation, read them again.

These are wildly different statements though they are both rooted in the same perspective: you are one place, yet you see something different for your life.

The other night, I sat with a string of mala beads and just rolled through them. My meditation: “I am faithful to God’s faithfulness”.

Meaning? I will serve, I will pray, I will share with others, I will love, I will work hard, I will honor my parents, I will do my dishes, I will be accountable, I will eat well, I will give, I will get rest, I will read scripture, I will study spiritual text, I will listen, I will learn *all while knowing* that next version of my life (whatever it may be) will occur.

Growth does happen.

Change happens.

God does reveal.

Like the morning sun, God is faithful. (Hosea 6:3)

This switch in thinking makes our relationship with God less like the one we have with a restaurant server at a restaurant with no menu and more like the one we have with the waves on an ocean shore where you can sit, allow what comes, play, dig, relax, refresh, walk, move, pick up, and let the elements change you.

I know it’s abstract. But I feel, when I look at the prayers of these women – when I look at my journal from September – that I can’t help but see some low hanging peace fruit available to us if we commit to being faithful to God’s faithfulness without ordering up our future.

And for those of you thinking as you read this that it is total horse shit because you are in the middle of a rough hand dealt or because you had a rough hand dealt and it has not changed. I just challenge you to say in your prayers tonight, “God, I am faithful to your faithfulness.” And let it rest. Take out all the other variables.

Focus on the rising sun.

May we have ears to hear and eyes to see. XO, erin