Ebb and Flow

Dear Ones,

“Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.” Jesus invites the disciples, as the people, hearing of the great miracles that this man and his followers perform, to get away from it all. “Sit,” we think to ourselves, “the dishes can wait, the floor will be swept, the garbage will get taken out, the bills will be paid, the phone calls will be answered.” We make these demand of ourselves, especially when we want to sit. And we make these demand of others. We want our emails answered right away! We want traffic to move faster, so that we can make it quickly from one important activity to the next! We don’t want to get to that quiet place. Or are we afraid?

It has only been in the past couple of years that I have discovered that the quiet place Jesus invited to disciples to join him is not a place I can go to in mind alone.

I know well how to spend time in my mind: the mind is a place of action!

I must take my whole self to that quiet place: the longings, the fears, the painful feelings I do not want to feel, the shame, the anxiety, the rage. I must take all of these things to the place of quiet, that place of reflection. Most of us will keep on keepin’ on – anything – to avoid that quiet place!

In life there really is an ebb and flow. We live in a cycle of night and day, spring and summer, autumn and winter. Plants rest. Our pets rest. God invited people to join God in the Sabbath – a day of rest from all the frantic activity of the week. There’s the calm before the storm, when the storm is gathering. The sea ebbs and flows.

Trust the ebb and flow of your life, whatever comes. You, too, have a quiet place that trusts completely.

meb

Moments

Dear Friends,

Today is a day of moments. Perhaps today will hold one of the moments of your life, one of the moments that you will never forget.

We tell our moments to each other often. And the moments we tell are not the moments of high success, of momentous honor. Mostly, these moments are the quietest, simplest moments.

One of the moments of my mother’s life, which she never forgot, and which she relayed to my sister and to me many times, was the moment she met my father’s mother, Martha, for the first time. My father had gone off to Milwaukee to find work, and he drove home every weekend to stay with his parents. He was in his late 30’s! And I suppose when he told his family he was going to marry this Mary Markowski, a divorced woman with a child, this was probably not the woman my grandmother would have chosen for Frankie. But when my mother stepped out of the car to meet Frank’s family, Martha, my grandmother, stepped forward and hugged my mother. That hug was the moment my mother felt accepted into the Bahlert family, not simply as a daughter-in-law, but as a daughter.

Today, remember the moments of your life as you go through your day. Enrich your life!

Warmly,

meb

Our Feeble Reason!

Dear Friends,

We are a people of reason. We want to know the reasons for the actions that are taken. We want to know that reason was used to decide the action, even when we are clamoring for truth! Not long ago, I heard two linguists speaking on National Public Radio. They were discussing the leadership that is required in order for people to be open to a variety of opinions. What they suggested is that the engagement of both emotions and reason are necessary for leadership that includes differing points of view. In other words, the leader must be comfortable with discomfort – with her/his own discomfort. “The part of the human brain that reasons is feeble compared to the part of the brain that works on emotions.” And yet we are people who clamor for reason, and who not only seek to disregard but to discredit emotion; emotion is a more potent part of our make-up than reason!

Today, notice what you are feeling, as well as your thoughts. That's all - notice. Include your feelings in the equation!

meb

Walking Fast In Life

Dear Friends,

I've always walked fast! Even now when I go for a walk with my husband, he has to remind me to look up and slow down. I can remember walking home from school as a child, looking at the sidewalk, and knowing I could walk faster than anyone else.

Sigh...

Walking fast in life is a way to not be present in the now. Walking fast in life is a way to push past the feelings. Walking fast in life is a way to avoid the real that is here, now.

What if we all slowed down? You've heard of the "slow movement?" Slowing down is spiritual practice. When we slow down, we begin to notice. Yes, we begin to notice all that is around us - the sunlight in the trees, the early morning sounds of the birds, the train in the distance, the feel of the brisk morning air. We begin to notice the sadness that is in a friend whose greeting appears happy. We begin to notice the light in someone's eyes: what's that about?

And we also begin to notice all that is in us - that nagging feeling that needs attention, that sore place that needs my attention so that I move just a little bit, that lingering thought that reminds me to call a friend on her birthday.

If you are wanting to find meaning in your ordinary life - and who among us does not have an ordinary, ordinary life? - slow down. Begin the practice now. You'll still get where you are going, but you will have given yourself - and the rest of us - a gift.

Warmly,

meb

Choosing

Dear Friends,

You get to choose. We are not driven to hurt one another, to harm ourselves and other human beings. We get to choose. When someone responds to you with anger, you get to choose your response. You can respond with deep listening and respect for them as a human being. You get to choose. When life does not give you what you had wanted or expected, you get to choose. You can stand firm in your faith, you can trust in God’s goodness, and make your way through the deep journey of grief to the other side. You get to choose. When those around you are thriving on their fear and panic, you get to choose your response. When you choose, you may go on your way alone, or you may not.

You get to choose. You get to go deep into yourself, to that deeper place where truth lies. “Have salt in yourselves, and be at peace with one another.” Salt is something elemental, basic, powerful, potent. “Have salt in yourselves.”

You get to choose to live from the elemental place of salt in yourself - or not.

meb

Step off - now, JUMP!

Dear Ones,

Imagine jumping off a cliff. Oh – before you do that, though, put on a special contraption, gear that is designed to cover your body and to give your arms what they need to become wings. There!
Now – imagine jumping off a cliff! You feel yourself drop, drop, drop off the edge of the sheer mountainside. You are 7,000 feet up, and you’ve climbed for a whole day before putting on the special gear and jumping off the edge of the cliff.

At first, it feels as if you are still. Then, you feel that momentary feeling in the pit of your stomach that tells you that you are falling, falling, falling into the embrace – yikes! – of the earth, 7,000 feet below, calling to you with the energy of gravity. A waft of air rushes into your face, and then – then! – then! you are lifted by the wings that are part of you. You drift close to the sheer cliffs. You can begin to look, to notice your surroundings, the almost purple sky above and surrounding you, the slate of the cliffs, the distant trees and green of the fields below. This is it! You are being held – by the air, by the wings, by the rush of energy that is you and is around you. This is it!

Warmly,
meb

The Green Couch - a time of transition

Dear Friends,

Let me tell you about my green couch. During a time in my life when I was going through a transition, I think I sat on that green couch for most of the day, every day. When I think of the green couch - a bright green corduroy couch that sat perpendicular to the front windows of the house in Tracy - it seems as if I sat on that couch all the time, for about 2 years. You can tell me that couldn't be true - and of course, it isn't completely true - but that's how long I sat on that green couch, at least in my memory.

I'd had a difficult couple of years. I had conflict in my work - the work I was certain I was chosen to do in this life - and my husband, Jeff, and I had been waiting for a baby girl we were adopting from Guatemala. Her name was Anali Julia - "little Anali," I called her, and still call her - and we had traveled to Guatemala in the autumn of 1990 to meet her for the first time. When the blanket over her face was opened, she smiled up at me, our first meeting as mother and daughter. The nurse who was caring for her in her own home in Guatemala said: "Zu mama," "your mother." I fell in love that first evening when Jeff was gone on an errand and Anali and I were alone for the first time. She was fussing a bit, and I was uncertain what to do for her. So I said a prayer to the Mother, the Mother of us all: "Help me!" As I said the prayer, little Anali looked into my eyes, and I knew we were meant for each other.

And we were! Jeff and I returned home to California to wait for the adoption to be processed in Guatemala so that we could return and bring the baby home. We waited a long time - longer than the adoption agency had suggested we'd wait - until we heard that little Anali's birth mother had taken her back with her. Two more times we completed the paper work for a baby girl from Guatemala, and two more times our efforts failed. The third baby girl died of a heart condition in Guatemala.

The day of the news about the baby's death, I raised my hands into the air and said: "Ok, God, I let go of the wheel of my life!" I didn't know what else to do.

What did I do then? I sat on that green couch until the day I had to get up and get moving again. Grief takes all the time it needs. Grief has its own life.

Maybe you're sitting on a green couch today. Don't despair. Your sorrow, your transition, your waiting is moving you in a direction you cannot yet see. Don't get up from the green couch until it's time.

meb

Lead with your heart

Dear Friends,

Look around you when you go out today. Watch how people walk and how they "lead." Culturally, we lead with our heads. That leading leads (!) to our linear thinking dominated way of doing business.

The world needs people to lead with their hearts. Why not be one of those who starts the process?

Right now, place your hand over your heart. Feel your heart beating. There. Breathe. There.

Feel the warmth of your hand. Feel the heaviness of your palm on your heart. There.

When you take your hand away, don't forget. Don't forget that your heart is the center of your being. Your heart contains all that you are, all that you will be, all that you have been. For today, shift your focus from leading with your head to leading with your heart. See the difference it makes in your life.

What do you notice?

You won't do it perfectly. Just do it. Like the rest of life, you're not intended to do it perfectly.

Simply practice.

Lead with your heart.

Warmly,

meb

Don't Forget to Breathe

Dear Friends,

It seems too simple, really. Breathe. If you're feeling anxious, breathe. The awareness of your breath is simple, and very, very powerful. Breathe. Now!

Breathe brings you back into your body. Your thinking mind distracts you from the wholeness of who you are. Your wholeness rests in your body.

Listen... what is your breath, your body saying to you? What memories are hidden there, waiting to be remembered, and then released?

Make this your spiritual practice today: breathe.

Warmly,

meb

What You Want is Already Here

Dear Ones,

A long time ago, I looked up at a beautiful, star-lit winter sky as I left my office after working all day. I walked to my car with a friend. "I wish it was still light out," I said, innocently enough. "You're wishing your life away," she responded.

Many times through the years I've thought of her response. Many times I've thought that she answered out of some distant place in herself, a place that had heard those words many times, perhaps as a child. What child has not heard those words in response to a simple wish?

Other times, I think she was right. She is right. When I live my life wishing for something else, or wanting something else other than what I have now, today, in this time and place, I am wishing my life away.

I can choose to simply begin by being grateful for what I do have, for what abundance I am privileged to receive this moment, for all the simple and marvelous gifts that are part of every single day. If I have desires, so be it. I can be grateful for the simple and very human gift of desiring what I do not have, and I can relish in the desire itself.

What I want is already here. There is no where to go, there is no where to be except here, now.

Warmly,

meb

Beginning to see differently...

Dear Friends,

I am beginning to see differently. Maybe you can do it, too. If I can, you can!

This morning we have an early fog, which is typical for the Bay Area in Northern California. A few moments ago I looked out at the world to my east and deep fog covered the tops of the trees, the eucalyptus towering overhead. The smaller trees were turquoise beneath the fog.

Now, the sun is beginning to light up the tall trees, and the deep green is gone. Yellow glistens on the background of my life-view. A light breeze sways the bamboo right outside the window, which has been growing fast this year. Sunlight appears to reflect onto the branches of the deep green giants.

From moment to moment, my world is changing. It's up to me to make sure I see it as it passes. I don't want to miss a thing!

Warmly,

meb

A Gift

Dear Ones,

Yesterday as I sat at my desk, I looked down the long hall that my office faces. Christmas Tree lights still hang in the hall since last Christmas-time - our nod to fun! Betsy, who volunteers in the office, was slowly coming down the hall, holding a cup of coffee, the precariousness of the situation heightened by her limp. Betsy uses a cane ordinarily, but this time there was no cane.

I watched her silently. Betsy was silent, too. I wondered if she was going to take her cup of coffee into the room with the computer?

She walked into my office. "Is that for me?" I asked. I guess it hadn't clicked. "Yes!" she said. Betsy is not one who often gives gifts, in my memory. "Thank you!" I hope the glee and gratitude showed in my voice.

A gift.

Will I be the giver or the gifted, today?

Warmly,

meb

Thinking - or not?

Dear Ones,

I think a lot of things. That's what the mind does. The mind thinks. (Whatever "the mind" is... but that's another post...!).

I saw a bumper sticker: "Don't believe everything you think." But we do! If we think it, we think it must be true! Even those flitting thoughts, those ideas about people and events and thoughts we call "feelings," that aren't really feelings.

That's the job of the mind. To think. So go ahead and think. That's what your mind is doing, anyway.

And at some point today, do this, also. Be aware that you are more than your thoughts. Someone, something, somewhere - ! - lives an awareness that is more/less/other than your thoughts. Let that awareness lead. Just let it lead you for a moment, or two, or three. Where is it? What is it? Ask it!

When you are in touch with this awareness, notice your thoughts. Yes, they are still there, doing what they do. How small they seem, in contrast to this awareness. They are part of the whole.

Enjoy!

meb

A Day of Thanks...

Dear Ones,

I spent a lot of time traveling to return home today, after attending the funeral of Harvey Stower in Amery, Wisconsin. I am so grateful for the opportunity to leave my active life here in California, supported by my husband, Jeff Kunkel, my community, and many dear ones as I traveled a long way to honor a man who has been very important in my life.

Today when I awoke in a hotel near the airport in Minneapolis, I went to the window, where I had seen snow falling every time I had awakened during the night. When I sat by the window this morning, cherishing my last few minutes of quiet before a busy day of travel, I loved watching the snow continuing to fall, straight down. Ahh... no wind today.

When I went to my rental car, I had to dust about 4 inches of large white flakes off the windows before I started the car. Years ago, before I left the Midwest for California, dusting/scraping the snow off my windows drew angry words under my breath: "why would I live here???" Today, I cherished the moment. Today, I honored the feelings, warm and deep and sad, that accompanied the smells and the feel of the cold and the snow. Today, I took a few minutes to watch the 3 little girls who were making snow balls out of the wet stuff to throw at their uncle. When he'd had enough, their dad called out to them: "Come on, ladies, let's go!" I loved hearing their high voices and watching how each of the girls related to the new fallen snow.

Then I got into the car and drove to the airport. Upon arriving, I learned that I would not make my connecting flight in Chicago because the snow had slowed things down in Minneapolis. When I arrived in Denver, re-routed, I discovered that I had just - by about a minute - missed my connecting flight, the flight that would have brought me right into Oakland.

I was rattled. I walked anxiously to the Service Center for the airlines. Today's line was long, of course, with flights all over the country affected by the beautiful storm. As I walked to the end of the line, I started to give thanks: Thank you, God, for this, whatever it means. Thank you, thank you.

Then I took out my cell phone and called a friend in New Mexico, and as I stood in line I had a long and deep conversation with a friend I had been missing.

Thanks, indeed.

Warmly,

meb

Restlessness, Jealousy, Fear...

Dear Ones,

Have you felt these things: restlessness, jealousy, fear, anger, panic.... etc? etc? etc?

I've noticed that when I tell someone I have one of these "unpopular" feelings, they usually try to talk me out of them! But who are we besides ordinary human beings - with ordinary feelings - as unpopular as some of these feelings might be.

I don't know what my friends unwillingness to hear my feelings is about for them. I know that for me, it is freeing to acknowledge my feelings, and then to move on. Acknowledging my feelings is important for me - and I've discovered that the acknowledgment is for me, not for someone else. In other words, I have to accept my feeling, whether or not it is shared.

This acceptance is part of the larger acceptance of all things, big or small. Acceptance is another word for "surrender," or "letting go." I surrender to my feeling of restlessness, of jealousy, of fear.

Ahh... what freedom lies in letting go???

Warmly,

meb

Every moment...

Dear Ones,

Some of you may know the spiritual classic: The Practice of the Presence of God - Being the Letters and Conversations of Brother Lawrence. Brother Lawrence worked in the kitchen of a monastery. To Brother Lawrence, every moment was the time to pray. As he worked, he prayed. He found himself getting angry when there was a call to prayer, because it interrupted his continual prayer!

Brother Lawrence taught me, a long time ago, that there is never a time when I do not have the time to pray. Brother Lawrence taught me that life is a prayer. Whatever I am doing, whoever I am relating to, life gives me the opportunity to pray.

Pray, pray, pray!

Begin to think of your life as a prayer. Your life as a prayer does not mean you will "do" it perfectly, or always be nice, or always get it right! Even in a life of prayer, conflict, difficult people and situations arise. And in each situation, in each moment, you will know that you are connected, that this is the perfect moment, that all is well.

Have a wonderful day. Pray, pray, pray!

Warmly,

meb

Days of Heaven...

Dear Ones,

The evenings are cooler here in northern California. Autumn is definitely here. When I woke this morning, I saw the steam rising from our neighbors' house - the heat's on! When I sit in the living room, I turn on the fire.

Now's the time to be cozy. How can I bring heaven down on myself today? What small pleasure can I give myself in changing times?

The news is filled with things to be fearful about. We can choose - or not choose - to not be fearful. That's up to you and to me. We do get to choose. LIve in fear, or live in hope. Act out of fear or act from a hopeful place.

Yes, these are the days of heaven. All may not be well with you, but these are still the days of heaven.

Warmly,
meb

Gratitude

Dear Ones,

Last night was the harvest full moon. A small group of us walked a labyrinth in a church courtyard. The moon never rose over the buildings, but its presence attended to the night. Traffic sounds, a hearty wind, the tinkle of a small fountain at the edge of the labyrinth, leaves on the cement - all contributed to the symphony that accompanied our walk.

I wanted to walk in my stocking feet. As the wind came up ahead of time, I wondered about the wisdom of this, but I took off my shoes and was surprised that the concrete labyrinth was still warm from the day's sun. Ahh...! What a relief to walk and feel the warmth!

Beauty surrounded me - the wind and the sounds and the crisp air - as well as the walking women, one wrapped in a long blue blanket.

As usual in the labyrinth, I had to shorten my steps and I had to make sure I stayed focused. Some say that walking the labyrinth is like life, and focusing to stay focused is surely my life! One moment I almost fell off the track, thinking about something else. Otherwise, I was there! I shortened my steps and didn't even think too much - I think!!!!

As I left the center, a moment of gratitude descended on me. Where did it come from? All of a sudden, there it was! I felt it, strong in my heart, and relished in it.

Warmly,
meb

What True Thing Remains...

Dear Ones,

The coming of autumn - that slight change in the air, almost palpable - brings with it a feeling of nostalgia. I grew up in Wisconsin, and the coming of autumn meant that the precious time of summer would be gone for many months. The nostalgia that accompanied this knowledge pulls at one's heart.

As the years pass, time seems to pass much more quickly. Events happen, illnesses come and go, friends pass, accomplishments are made, new people come into our lives, we work from day to day and week to week, and month to month. Sometimes there seems to be no time to reflect.

But reflection is needed for a life of meaning. Sometimes it is good to ask: what true thing remains? What true thing has always been part of us?

One day I asked a wonderful woman who was nearing 100 whether or not she felt 100. "Inside," she said, "I have always been the same - me!"

That is the one true thing. Who you are is so much greater than your accomplishments. Who you are is the one who has always observed, without flinching, your life.

When you reach 100, this is who you will be, too.
Warmly,
meb

Loss of a dear One

Dear Ones,

Late yesterday evening I learned that a person who was very important to me in my spiritual journey has died - Harvey Stower, of Amery, Wisconsin. Harvey was a charismatic, caring person who touched many lives with his generous spirit, his keen mind, and his ability to bring people together - "across the aisle," as the saying goes in Congress.

Harvey was a young adult minister when I was a young adult, struggling to connect in the world. I was afraid. I was lonely. I was in search of meaning. I didn't know it, but I needed a community of good folks. Many times I called Harvey's house on a Sunday after church - Sunday afternoons are often the worst time of the week for lonely people - and when he answered he'd say: "Come on over! Good folks are coming over!" I'd arrive at his home, where Marilyn was already cooking a huge meal, her baby Katie on her hip, and people would begin to arrive. I later learned that when I had called, there had been no plans for others to join us. A crowd gathered.

One night I stood under the vast sky filled with stars in Amery, where I was visting Marilyn and Harvey for the weekend. "I have no faith," I confessed to Harvey. Always present to the moment, Harvey said: "If you can just think of Jesus as your friend."

And so began my walk with Jesus. And so began the great adventure that led me to study theology, serve as a pastor, and and a great adventure that has led to a life of meaning and purpose.

When I read the email that Harvey had passed, I stood for a long time in my kitchen, wanting to call someone to share the news. Everyone I thought about is gone, too. So I called a friend, late, in Wisconsin, and she said: "Oh - it's hard to lose a good friend." Then I called my sister in Hawaii, and she listened, too.

One grief brings up other griefs. Like you, I'm still trying to make sense of life. And I am very, very grateful for the gift of having known Harvey Stower, a giant of a person in this world.

Warmly,
meb