I attend a local full moon gathering as I am able once a month. The month of May brought Mother’s day and the following theme for reflection: “The word "Mother" is a powerful one for us all - What is foremost in your thoughts at present? Please bring a symbol for the altar”.
My immediate response was a ‘kaleidoscope’. I loved the little toy ones we had as kids and today I have a beautiful oil filled timber kaleidoscope. I love the magic of them, the feel, and the way the colours shift, drop and form into ever changing mandala.
The ever changing happens within the confines of the container of the moving pieces of glass and oil. In the same way, I liken mothers and mothering and being a daughter to a kaleidoscope. Ideally the forms of our relationships in this way are ever changing. I have talked with my own children about not ‘labelling’ and ‘boxing me in’ any more than they can avoid. And yet the label of ‘mother’ will apply and have meaning for them also – it is the basis of our initial relationship. I am their mother AND I want the freedom, just as the kaleidoscope does, to change colour and form!
What was uppermost in my thoughts prior to my response was what is happening around me with mothers. I have a number of friends who now, more than ever, are ‘mothering’ their mothers through elderly age. My mother is not at this stage in her life yet I am more mindful of her well- being. As I age I have greater appreciation of the fullness of her living in a way I didn’t as a younger woman. The kaleidoscope turns and falls into a different place and oozes it’s way toward the next.
My daughter and her partner have just announced their engagement – great news for them and multiple kaleidoscopic moments of reflection for me. That means I am going to be a ‘mother-in-law’ with all the connotations that can go with this. The other mother-in-law and I agreed laughing over coffee that this is yet another progression in our lives as mothers - one that requires ongoing letting go of our own ‘child’ as we welcome the new ‘child’ into our family. The engagement had us as a family turning the kaleidoscope backwards, highly amused at memories from the past and the growing of these two from single to couple.
At the level of my personal being I am very mindful of being held and supported by spirit mother energy. This is a new and deepening experience for me. I feel both a letting go, of being held and a sense of personal connectedness with the great mother spirit. My colours are shifting and changing again within the kaleidoscope that is Kerry-Ann. This is not always beautiful – as the mandala shifts and changes there are periods of transition, of disunion and dissolution, moments of suspension and an unknowing of the particular form that is arriving. I have found thinking about myself – all aspects not just the mother bits – as a kaleidoscope has been helpful. It is a symbol I am continuing to play with.
As one of the women commented, we are all born of a mother and all need sufficient mothering to survive and develop. And we all need to find for ourselves symbols that enliven and sustain our living and our mothering.
How might you answer the questions:
“The word "Mother" is a powerful one for us all - What is foremost in your thoughts at present?
What symbol would you bring to the altar?
Arohanui
Kerry-Ann
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Spiritual leadership
I am struggling to write this article. Tomorrow morning I am flying to visit my brother and his family. My sister-in-law is in need of a miracle as she faces another of the cancer challenges which have come her way over the last 4 – 5 years.
That said, I have been considering the notion of spiritual leadership. And it all ends up feeling way too big.
From a personal perspective it would seem that spiritual leadership is as simple as living a mindful and full life, learning to weather the vagaries of living and staying as well and as connected as one can.
Simple I say, but as a group of women talking with me recently said, “we could never have imagined at 21 how our lives would unfold!” I had to agree and our laughter was tinged with a mix of many emotions.
As I travel to deliver my hugs to a family who are looking forward to getting them I shall reflect further on the simplicity of spiritual leadership.
As it is my own life that I seek to lead spiritually, for now I plan to continue my wellness plan which seems to contain the elements of resilience, empathy and grace. Namely:
h meditating regularly when it goes well and when I struggle for alignment
h exercising my body reluctantly and with relish
h listening up to people when they want to talk with me
h practising gratitude and compassion, mostly about the fullness of my life and celebrating what you have heard me call the ‘Yum/Yuck’ of life.
So it is my spirit that draws me to family tomorrow, it will be spirit that sustains me and spirit that I will offer in my time with them.
And now a plug for my new work as a programme coordinator for the YWCA’s Future Leaders programme.
Serendipity or divine intervention, has lead me to a role where I get to live ‘spiritual leadership’. Resilience, empathy, grace and much humour are required and present as I meet with and work with girls 14 – 19 years old and the wonderful women who currently are their mentors. See the link below for more information.
Future Leaders
The Future Leaders Programme provides mentoring, practical support and skills development to young women who show leadership potential. To join this inspiring programme as a
Or better still give me a call at work on 09 375 9248. I am very happy to talk with individual women and groups of women about being a mentor.
Arohanui
Kerry-Ann
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Matariki – a celebration of New Year in Aotearoa
Kia ora
Matariki is the Maori New Year (Tau Hou) – due to be celebrated in New Zealand 05 June – 05 July 2008. This time span reflects that Matariki is celebrated by different tribes at different times. For some, it is when the group of stars known as Matariki or the Pleiades is first seen in the pre-dawn sky, late in May. For others it is the full moon after it rises that is celebrated and still others centre their celebrations on the dawn of the next new moon.
Traditionally, depending on the visibility of Matariki, the coming season’s crop was thought to be determined - the brighter the stars, the warmer the season and the better the crop. Matariki was also a time for family to gather and reflect on past and future, to remember whakapapa and the legacy they left behind.
Here are two translations of the word Matariki: Mata Riki (Tiny Eyes) or Mata Ariki ( Eyes of God). Either way the eyes are thought to watch over the land and its people. During Matariki, we celebrate our unique place in the world. We give respect to the whenua (land) on which we live, and admiration to our mother earth, Papatūānuku. Throughout Matariki, we learn about those who came before us. Our history, our family, our bones. Matariki signals growth. It's a time of change. It's a time to prepare, and a time of action. During Matariki, we acknowledge what we have and what we have to give. Matariki celebrates the diversity of life. It's a celebration of culture, language, spirit and people. Matariki draws and intrigues me as an appropriate mid-winter celebration – the rising of Matariki our signal that the Celtic winter solstice is close by. It is also our time where we can prepare for spring and growth as the Northern hemisphere does during their New Year in January. It signals a time of gathering together to talk and eat, a personal time to draw into self–reflection as the days shorten.
As a place to start last year I gathered in my home with celebrant colleagues. After a shared dinner together we met in the living room with an open fire and lit candles.
I led a “Breathing to come together:”
Cosmic breathing He ha ao whanui
I breathe in Puritia te manawa
I am land He whenua ahau
I breathe out Tukuna te manawa
I am listening E whakarongo ana ahau
I breathe in Puritia te manawa
I am river He awa ahau
I breathe out Tukuna te manawa
I am flowing E rere ana ahau
I breathe in Puritia te manawa
I am kauri He kauri ahau
I breathe out Tukuna te manawa
I am strong E tu rangatira ana ahau
I breathe in Puritia te manawa
I am rain He ua ahau
I breathe out Tukuna te manawa
I am refreshed E tu noa ana ahau
I breathe in Puritia te manawa
I am rock He kamaka ahau
I breathe out Tukuna te manawa
I am centered Kua hou e te wairua
- Powell, Anne, “Firesong”, Steele Roberts Ltd 1999
As part of our sharing circle we named and celebrated people who had died and we shared aspects of ourselves that we were dying to or complete with.
We finished with a poem called Warning of Winter – Ursula Bethell (p.135, “Spirit in a Strange Land: A selection of New Zealand spiritual verse”, ed. Paul Morris, Morris, Paul, Ricketts, H & Grimshaw, M, A Godwit Book Random House Publishing 2002) before having a cup of tea and cake of course!
“Give over, now, red roses;
Summer-long you told us,
Urgently unfolding, death-sweet, life-red,
Tidings of love. All’s said. Give over.
Summer-long you placarded
Leafy shades with heart-red
Symbols. Who knew not love at first knows now,
Who had forgot has now remembered.
Let be, let be, lance-lilies,
Alert, pard-spotted, tilting
Poised anthers, flaming; have done flaming fierce;
Hard hearts were pierced long since and stricken.
Give to the blast your thorn-crowns
Roses; and now be torn down
All you ardent lilies, your high-holden crests,
Havocked and cast to rest on the clammy ground.
Alas, alas, to darkness
Descends the flowered pathway,
To solitary places, deserts, utter night;
To issue in what hidden dawn of light hereafter?
But one, in dead of night,
Divine Agape, kindles
Morning suns, new moons, lights starry trophies;
Says to the waste; rejoice, and bring forth roses;
To the ice-fields: Let here spring thick bright lilies.”
At the level of community find out what is happening in your local area – perhaps get up before dawn and witness Matariki for yourself. Other ideas include developing a recycle plan for your home or local area, plant native trees and shrubs or draw out a plan for a spring garden and start to gather the seed and seedlings. Perhaps learn the plants which you can eat and which help to heal and pass this knowledge on.
And for fun you could make and go fly a kite on the New Year!
At a personal level Matariki is a time to reflect on your own whakapapa (or story), to spend time with family, record oral histories, perhaps create something to remember those who have recently passed on. As you look to Matariki look to your future, start something new, create an image for the year ahead. When my mother turned 70 we gifted her a book of family stories, that is the stories that each of us associate with her.
Matariki is a time of giving – giving thanks for the bounty we experience, giving to those who are in need and giving the gift of something of ourselves to others.
In 2009 Matariki will be celebrated on 24 June and in 2010 on 14 June.
Arohanui Kerry-Ann
http://www.kerryannstanton.com/
Other References and Resources for this article:
Batten, Juliet, Celebrating the Southern Seasons, Tandem Press, Auckland 1995
Hakaraia, Libby, “Matariki”, Reed Publishing NZ 2004
Matariki is the Maori New Year (Tau Hou) – due to be celebrated in New Zealand 05 June – 05 July 2008. This time span reflects that Matariki is celebrated by different tribes at different times. For some, it is when the group of stars known as Matariki or the Pleiades is first seen in the pre-dawn sky, late in May. For others it is the full moon after it rises that is celebrated and still others centre their celebrations on the dawn of the next new moon.
Traditionally, depending on the visibility of Matariki, the coming season’s crop was thought to be determined - the brighter the stars, the warmer the season and the better the crop. Matariki was also a time for family to gather and reflect on past and future, to remember whakapapa and the legacy they left behind.
Here are two translations of the word Matariki: Mata Riki (Tiny Eyes) or Mata Ariki ( Eyes of God). Either way the eyes are thought to watch over the land and its people. During Matariki, we celebrate our unique place in the world. We give respect to the whenua (land) on which we live, and admiration to our mother earth, Papatūānuku. Throughout Matariki, we learn about those who came before us. Our history, our family, our bones. Matariki signals growth. It's a time of change. It's a time to prepare, and a time of action. During Matariki, we acknowledge what we have and what we have to give. Matariki celebrates the diversity of life. It's a celebration of culture, language, spirit and people. Matariki draws and intrigues me as an appropriate mid-winter celebration – the rising of Matariki our signal that the Celtic winter solstice is close by. It is also our time where we can prepare for spring and growth as the Northern hemisphere does during their New Year in January. It signals a time of gathering together to talk and eat, a personal time to draw into self–reflection as the days shorten.
As a place to start last year I gathered in my home with celebrant colleagues. After a shared dinner together we met in the living room with an open fire and lit candles.
I led a “Breathing to come together:”
Cosmic breathing He ha ao whanui
I breathe in Puritia te manawa
I am land He whenua ahau
I breathe out Tukuna te manawa
I am listening E whakarongo ana ahau
I breathe in Puritia te manawa
I am river He awa ahau
I breathe out Tukuna te manawa
I am flowing E rere ana ahau
I breathe in Puritia te manawa
I am kauri He kauri ahau
I breathe out Tukuna te manawa
I am strong E tu rangatira ana ahau
I breathe in Puritia te manawa
I am rain He ua ahau
I breathe out Tukuna te manawa
I am refreshed E tu noa ana ahau
I breathe in Puritia te manawa
I am rock He kamaka ahau
I breathe out Tukuna te manawa
I am centered Kua hou e te wairua
- Powell, Anne, “Firesong”, Steele Roberts Ltd 1999
As part of our sharing circle we named and celebrated people who had died and we shared aspects of ourselves that we were dying to or complete with.
We finished with a poem called Warning of Winter – Ursula Bethell (p.135, “Spirit in a Strange Land: A selection of New Zealand spiritual verse”, ed. Paul Morris, Morris, Paul, Ricketts, H & Grimshaw, M, A Godwit Book Random House Publishing 2002) before having a cup of tea and cake of course!
“Give over, now, red roses;
Summer-long you told us,
Urgently unfolding, death-sweet, life-red,
Tidings of love. All’s said. Give over.
Summer-long you placarded
Leafy shades with heart-red
Symbols. Who knew not love at first knows now,
Who had forgot has now remembered.
Let be, let be, lance-lilies,
Alert, pard-spotted, tilting
Poised anthers, flaming; have done flaming fierce;
Hard hearts were pierced long since and stricken.
Give to the blast your thorn-crowns
Roses; and now be torn down
All you ardent lilies, your high-holden crests,
Havocked and cast to rest on the clammy ground.
Alas, alas, to darkness
Descends the flowered pathway,
To solitary places, deserts, utter night;
To issue in what hidden dawn of light hereafter?
But one, in dead of night,
Divine Agape, kindles
Morning suns, new moons, lights starry trophies;
Says to the waste; rejoice, and bring forth roses;
To the ice-fields: Let here spring thick bright lilies.”
At the level of community find out what is happening in your local area – perhaps get up before dawn and witness Matariki for yourself. Other ideas include developing a recycle plan for your home or local area, plant native trees and shrubs or draw out a plan for a spring garden and start to gather the seed and seedlings. Perhaps learn the plants which you can eat and which help to heal and pass this knowledge on.
And for fun you could make and go fly a kite on the New Year!
At a personal level Matariki is a time to reflect on your own whakapapa (or story), to spend time with family, record oral histories, perhaps create something to remember those who have recently passed on. As you look to Matariki look to your future, start something new, create an image for the year ahead. When my mother turned 70 we gifted her a book of family stories, that is the stories that each of us associate with her.
Matariki is a time of giving – giving thanks for the bounty we experience, giving to those who are in need and giving the gift of something of ourselves to others.
In 2009 Matariki will be celebrated on 24 June and in 2010 on 14 June.
Arohanui Kerry-Ann
http://www.kerryannstanton.com/
Other References and Resources for this article:
Batten, Juliet, Celebrating the Southern Seasons, Tandem Press, Auckland 1995
Hakaraia, Libby, “Matariki”, Reed Publishing NZ 2004
Thursday, May 15, 2008
"I don't ... because"
One recent Sunday I was dancing around the Blockhouse Bay Boating Club exploring the rhythm of "flow". It was very wet outside and as I glanced down at the pile of shoes I was amazed to see a pair of jandals amidst the boots and shoes. My mind went, ‘I don't wear jandals in the rain because they flick up mud and water as I walk onto my trousers." Well really!
How the mind can go to odd places and of course the implication was how silly the jandals owners were to be wearing jandals on a day like this. This meant the observer I am was far too sensible to do something that silly.
As I returned to the dance I made a mental note to further explore what other "I don'ts" I and others might have that trip us up, perhaps prevent us fully participating in our lives and may have us sit in unnecessary judgement of others.
The very next weekend a friend announced as we were driving from west to east in Auckland to go to Parnell that she ‘didn't go the port way because she didn't feel comfortable about the lanes to use." So she would go the longer way to avoid confusion! And yes you are right we coached her, in heavy rain again, how to use the port way with much hilarity as I shared my jandals story.
What are your "I don'ts ... because"?
They are not necessarily invalid or foolish but unexamined can really remove us from living fully. The prudent ones prevent misery and mayhem - "I don't drink and drive because ..." but what about "I don't talk to people like that because ..." or "I don't go here or eat things like that because ..."
Very similar to I don't is I can't or I couldn't possibly. "I can't apply for that position because I don't have everything they are looking for." Or the heartbreaking "I can't go to heaven because I'm not good enough for God" from an elderly relative a number of years ago.
As I have commented before we all make assessments in these ways all the time. The issue is not the making of the assessments. The issue lies with not checking them out and going, "well who says so and is this still so?" This gives us the opportunity to check our assessments out and just maybe make a different choice or be very clear in our original "I don't" - so no jandals in the rain for me.
Arohanui Kerry-Ann (www.kerryannstanton.com)
PS - what I did do as a child was walk home from school on really rainy days barefoot in the overflowing gutters - such remembered bliss. So in a really heavy rain storm the other day I walked (with my walking shoes on - broken glass you understand) through flooding gutters, water gushing everywhere. Still feels good.
How the mind can go to odd places and of course the implication was how silly the jandals owners were to be wearing jandals on a day like this. This meant the observer I am was far too sensible to do something that silly.
As I returned to the dance I made a mental note to further explore what other "I don'ts" I and others might have that trip us up, perhaps prevent us fully participating in our lives and may have us sit in unnecessary judgement of others.
The very next weekend a friend announced as we were driving from west to east in Auckland to go to Parnell that she ‘didn't go the port way because she didn't feel comfortable about the lanes to use." So she would go the longer way to avoid confusion! And yes you are right we coached her, in heavy rain again, how to use the port way with much hilarity as I shared my jandals story.
What are your "I don'ts ... because"?
They are not necessarily invalid or foolish but unexamined can really remove us from living fully. The prudent ones prevent misery and mayhem - "I don't drink and drive because ..." but what about "I don't talk to people like that because ..." or "I don't go here or eat things like that because ..."
Very similar to I don't is I can't or I couldn't possibly. "I can't apply for that position because I don't have everything they are looking for." Or the heartbreaking "I can't go to heaven because I'm not good enough for God" from an elderly relative a number of years ago.
As I have commented before we all make assessments in these ways all the time. The issue is not the making of the assessments. The issue lies with not checking them out and going, "well who says so and is this still so?" This gives us the opportunity to check our assessments out and just maybe make a different choice or be very clear in our original "I don't" - so no jandals in the rain for me.
Arohanui Kerry-Ann (www.kerryannstanton.com)
PS - what I did do as a child was walk home from school on really rainy days barefoot in the overflowing gutters - such remembered bliss. So in a really heavy rain storm the other day I walked (with my walking shoes on - broken glass you understand) through flooding gutters, water gushing everywhere. Still feels good.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
When there is nothing to understand, nothing to say
Since I last wrote we have had a 10 ½ month friend die and a young man, my daughter’s age, get some potentially devastating news.
Each event has challenged me. How to stay present to my friends and not be overwhelmed? What is the best way to help? How to accept that sometimes there simply is nothing to understand?
Our baby friend was seriously ill in hospital when we went away for our summer camping holiday. Prior to going camping I had been popping into the hospital as I could, just to say hello and sit with them for a while.
When I was camping, I initially struggled with being away enjoying myself while they were in Auckland experiencing a very personal sort of hell. I ended up giving myself a talking to about making sure I enjoyed the opportunity I had. All the while knowing that there was nothing I could do to help anyway. Such a feeling of helplessness though.
As I thought about it some more I decided I would at least send a daily text – just to say, “You are not forgotten”. So when I climbed the hill to change the freezer pads at the communal freezer I would also gather at the site where I could get signal – where we could all get signal actually. It was a hilarious sight to see us all there pointing our mobile phones skyward from the hill, waiting and hoping for communication release! I would briefly say what we were up to at our end – a quick chat – and then carry on into my day. The occasional return text assured me of the delight of ‘normal’ communication and of being kept in touch with.
When I returned to Auckland the visits continued and I would stay light and present during the hospital time and then cry on my way home - nothing to do, nothing to say.
My friend does beautiful drawings and it occurred to me that drawing might be one way for her to stay grounded during her experience, especially if they were in this for the long haul. I asked if she would like to do this and one day I took in several sketch books and a bunch of crayons.
It didn’t end up being a long haul – our beautiful baby friend died late January and we attended one of the most exquisite funeral ceremonies I have been to. At this time we got to say good bye to her and to honour her Mum & Dad.
We don’t expect to have to say good bye to a baby and to grieve with parents whose hopes and dreams have been so radically changed by such a loss. It was a time of deep reflection for us all – both during her illness, as we offered our prayers and meditations and readings, and at her death.
And the drawings – well I may be privileged to see them one day - or not - as the case may be. However they were begun and are being continued. As someone outside the situation I could be an observer and make a suggestion around self care, without it needing to be a magic cure.
Our other friend is an inspiring go-getter and leaves the rest of us behind with his matter-of-factness. At a much younger age than I, he is teaching me that sometimes there are no ‘reasons’, there is nothing to understand. Life just is, so just get on with it. I want to look for reasons, for understanding – because if I did, surely there would be something I could do to make it all better again!
I still don’t get the WHY of these events. I DO get that staying in touch, acknowledging what is going on rather than pretending it isn’t, staying grounded myself and present to my own living, all help.
Sometimes there is nothing to understand. There is something that can be said and done.
Arohanui Kerry-Ann (www.kerryannstanton.com)
Juxtaposed with these events were two heartening ones.
On the day I heard of our baby friend’s death I was doing a naming ceremony for a small boy the same age. As one family grieved, another family and their circle of extended family and friends, joyfully welcomed their small boy into the world and their community.
I have also been helping a friend make a scrap cot quilt for her first grandchild. I knew her daughter as a small child and looked after her with my own daughter. Making this quilt has been a form of prayer for me – keeping me in creative action and soothing my soul.
Indeed the yum/yuck of life as I call it.
After thought: Poems can offer solace. These two moved me.
God be with the mother (father) by Michael Leunig. Find it in A Common Prayer – a cartoonist talks to God, Michael Leunig, HarperCollinsReligious, 1990
A small wave for your form by Mhairi nic Neill. Find it in Life Prayers, ed. E. Roberts & E. Amidon, Harper, San Francisco, 1996
Each event has challenged me. How to stay present to my friends and not be overwhelmed? What is the best way to help? How to accept that sometimes there simply is nothing to understand?
Our baby friend was seriously ill in hospital when we went away for our summer camping holiday. Prior to going camping I had been popping into the hospital as I could, just to say hello and sit with them for a while.
When I was camping, I initially struggled with being away enjoying myself while they were in Auckland experiencing a very personal sort of hell. I ended up giving myself a talking to about making sure I enjoyed the opportunity I had. All the while knowing that there was nothing I could do to help anyway. Such a feeling of helplessness though.
As I thought about it some more I decided I would at least send a daily text – just to say, “You are not forgotten”. So when I climbed the hill to change the freezer pads at the communal freezer I would also gather at the site where I could get signal – where we could all get signal actually. It was a hilarious sight to see us all there pointing our mobile phones skyward from the hill, waiting and hoping for communication release! I would briefly say what we were up to at our end – a quick chat – and then carry on into my day. The occasional return text assured me of the delight of ‘normal’ communication and of being kept in touch with.
When I returned to Auckland the visits continued and I would stay light and present during the hospital time and then cry on my way home - nothing to do, nothing to say.
My friend does beautiful drawings and it occurred to me that drawing might be one way for her to stay grounded during her experience, especially if they were in this for the long haul. I asked if she would like to do this and one day I took in several sketch books and a bunch of crayons.
It didn’t end up being a long haul – our beautiful baby friend died late January and we attended one of the most exquisite funeral ceremonies I have been to. At this time we got to say good bye to her and to honour her Mum & Dad.
We don’t expect to have to say good bye to a baby and to grieve with parents whose hopes and dreams have been so radically changed by such a loss. It was a time of deep reflection for us all – both during her illness, as we offered our prayers and meditations and readings, and at her death.
And the drawings – well I may be privileged to see them one day - or not - as the case may be. However they were begun and are being continued. As someone outside the situation I could be an observer and make a suggestion around self care, without it needing to be a magic cure.
Our other friend is an inspiring go-getter and leaves the rest of us behind with his matter-of-factness. At a much younger age than I, he is teaching me that sometimes there are no ‘reasons’, there is nothing to understand. Life just is, so just get on with it. I want to look for reasons, for understanding – because if I did, surely there would be something I could do to make it all better again!
I still don’t get the WHY of these events. I DO get that staying in touch, acknowledging what is going on rather than pretending it isn’t, staying grounded myself and present to my own living, all help.
Sometimes there is nothing to understand. There is something that can be said and done.
Arohanui Kerry-Ann (www.kerryannstanton.com)
Juxtaposed with these events were two heartening ones.
On the day I heard of our baby friend’s death I was doing a naming ceremony for a small boy the same age. As one family grieved, another family and their circle of extended family and friends, joyfully welcomed their small boy into the world and their community.
I have also been helping a friend make a scrap cot quilt for her first grandchild. I knew her daughter as a small child and looked after her with my own daughter. Making this quilt has been a form of prayer for me – keeping me in creative action and soothing my soul.
Indeed the yum/yuck of life as I call it.
After thought: Poems can offer solace. These two moved me.
God be with the mother (father) by Michael Leunig. Find it in A Common Prayer – a cartoonist talks to God, Michael Leunig, HarperCollinsReligious, 1990
A small wave for your form by Mhairi nic Neill. Find it in Life Prayers, ed. E. Roberts & E. Amidon, Harper, San Francisco, 1996
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Kerry-Ann in Wonderland
Writing for the Women’s Spirituality Newsletter is an interesting quarterly time of reflection – I can recommend it for any of you out there half tempted!
This time last year I wrote about heart sensing, of heart palpitations and questioning how to live heart-fully. In 2005 I was speculating on how to combine Christmas and Summer solstice and stay sane, let alone spiritual, and in 2004 I was engaging with dance, tears and the sacred.
“I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, Sir, because I'm not myself you see. ” – Alice
November 2007 sees and feels me grappling with disappointment, transition and in the words of Alice (in Wonderland) – yes “it would be so nice if something made sense for a change. ”
I am quoting Alice in Wonderland as right now I feel somewhat like I imagined she felt. Which rabbit hole am I down? Did I eat too much of the cookie or not enough of the mushroom? Disappointment has popped back into my life like the Cheshire Cat and rendered me almost inarticulate for this article as I seem to equate writing for a spiritual newsletter to mean only writing in the positive!
David Richo talks of the full career of disappointment - realising it, grieving it, and then growing because of it. When I’ve written about transition before, I’ve talked about marking what is ending, going through the neutral phase before popping out into the beginning again – the land of opportunity. This time it doesn’t sit so comfortably.
On the face of it, I’ve had a successful year – my work income is up, I’ve had good client feedback,
my son has had a great first year at University, my daughter a most interesting year in Australia, I have made several quilts – including my gorgeous “Emerald & Scarlet” for my 50th and so on. I could write an in-depth gratitude list. Yet here I am, pondering on, and grappling with, disappointment.
From my perspective, disappointment and expectation are close buddies. It seems I had expectations of being 50. Some of the things I thought would be sorted out are not, or not in the way I expected! I wanted space and time to breathe this year but not at the cost of the recent and unexpected loss of work and income. I expected that my husband would have his business in a viable state, but it is not.
Rather than whine on, I’ll cut to Alice again – “However I thought I was further on than the beginning or am I merely at the beginning of the next part of my life?
Oh yes, she who works with transition is absolutely in one of her own – lots of things ending, with all the feelings, questions and speculations that go with endings and being in transition and none of the certainty that goes with being ‘in’ the next part.
Germaine Greer recently talked in a radio interview of the “irritable search for certainty” and I laughed and laughed – this is certainly my personal experience. And unlike the irritable Queen of Hearts – “Now, I give you fair warning, either you or your head must be off, and that in about half no time! Take your choice!" – I can’t chop heads off, nor do I intend to depart from life or marriage.
Well, when one's lost, I suppose it's good advice to stay where you are until someone finds you. But who'd ever think to look for me here? - Alice
Such a good question – who indeed? If I am to find myself how might I proceed from here? The Doorknob would have me “Read the directions and directly you will be directed in the right direction”.
It would appear that the Universe – bless her – has provided that direction by saying:
“Thou shalt pause and regroup; fresh opportunities need your time and attention”.
Reading the directions occurs for me through meditation, and leaning into those people and practices that sustain me – whether it’s dancing in my pyjamas to the “Doors” in the morning, swimming in the sea or walking in the beautiful Titirangi bush.
Recognising that I am in transition – and getting clear about what I am grieving for and what I am relieved about - is immensely helpful.
As to where from here, a final word from Alice - “I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle!”
Arohanui, Kerry-Ann-in-transition
All Alice in Wonderland Quotes from: http://quotations. about. com/od/moretypes/a/alice1. htm
This time last year I wrote about heart sensing, of heart palpitations and questioning how to live heart-fully. In 2005 I was speculating on how to combine Christmas and Summer solstice and stay sane, let alone spiritual, and in 2004 I was engaging with dance, tears and the sacred.
“I can't explain myself, I'm afraid, Sir, because I'm not myself you see. ” – Alice
November 2007 sees and feels me grappling with disappointment, transition and in the words of Alice (in Wonderland) – yes “it would be so nice if something made sense for a change. ”
I am quoting Alice in Wonderland as right now I feel somewhat like I imagined she felt. Which rabbit hole am I down? Did I eat too much of the cookie or not enough of the mushroom? Disappointment has popped back into my life like the Cheshire Cat and rendered me almost inarticulate for this article as I seem to equate writing for a spiritual newsletter to mean only writing in the positive!
David Richo talks of the full career of disappointment - realising it, grieving it, and then growing because of it. When I’ve written about transition before, I’ve talked about marking what is ending, going through the neutral phase before popping out into the beginning again – the land of opportunity. This time it doesn’t sit so comfortably.
On the face of it, I’ve had a successful year – my work income is up, I’ve had good client feedback,
my son has had a great first year at University, my daughter a most interesting year in Australia, I have made several quilts – including my gorgeous “Emerald & Scarlet” for my 50th and so on. I could write an in-depth gratitude list. Yet here I am, pondering on, and grappling with, disappointment.
From my perspective, disappointment and expectation are close buddies. It seems I had expectations of being 50. Some of the things I thought would be sorted out are not, or not in the way I expected! I wanted space and time to breathe this year but not at the cost of the recent and unexpected loss of work and income. I expected that my husband would have his business in a viable state, but it is not.
Rather than whine on, I’ll cut to Alice again – “However I thought I was further on than the beginning or am I merely at the beginning of the next part of my life?
Oh yes, she who works with transition is absolutely in one of her own – lots of things ending, with all the feelings, questions and speculations that go with endings and being in transition and none of the certainty that goes with being ‘in’ the next part.
Germaine Greer recently talked in a radio interview of the “irritable search for certainty” and I laughed and laughed – this is certainly my personal experience. And unlike the irritable Queen of Hearts – “Now, I give you fair warning, either you or your head must be off, and that in about half no time! Take your choice!" – I can’t chop heads off, nor do I intend to depart from life or marriage.
Well, when one's lost, I suppose it's good advice to stay where you are until someone finds you. But who'd ever think to look for me here? - Alice
Such a good question – who indeed? If I am to find myself how might I proceed from here? The Doorknob would have me “Read the directions and directly you will be directed in the right direction”.
It would appear that the Universe – bless her – has provided that direction by saying:
“Thou shalt pause and regroup; fresh opportunities need your time and attention”.
Reading the directions occurs for me through meditation, and leaning into those people and practices that sustain me – whether it’s dancing in my pyjamas to the “Doors” in the morning, swimming in the sea or walking in the beautiful Titirangi bush.
Recognising that I am in transition – and getting clear about what I am grieving for and what I am relieved about - is immensely helpful.
As to where from here, a final word from Alice - “I wonder if I've been changed in the night? Let me think. Was I the same when I got up this morning? I almost think I can remember feeling a little different. But if I'm not the same, the next question is 'Who in the world am I?' Ah, that's the great puzzle!”
Arohanui, Kerry-Ann-in-transition
All Alice in Wonderland Quotes from: http://quotations. about. com/od/moretypes/a/alice1. htm
Monday, July 23, 2007
The laundry shrine
I was talking with a friend the other day about cat urine and dog faeces. The cats were urinating in her house and leaving an unmistakable odour that was very hard to live with. The dog faeces smell was happening more often as she went to eat her food or when she was in different places – everything smelled like ‘shit’.
Yes, my friend has a number of very real pressures in her living and had been talking about her life ‘turning to shit’, now it was starting to smell and taste like ‘shit’ - a very high price to pay for life in the hard lane.
I phoned to say that I had a ‘thought’ I wished to share with her over a cup of tea. When we met we started to tease out how come it had to feel so hard all the time and what might just shift her thinking – not the constraint of her situation – just enough to make life a little less shitty.
To that end I had found and bought a range of symbols that might represent the introduction of some ‘sweetness’ into her living if they made sufficient sense to her. I had assembled in a bag a cake of aromatherapy soap, a glass ornamental wrapped sweet, a handful of lollipops and some candles to choose from.
Out of our conversation it transpired that she too had been asking some similar questions and was amused and delighted to play the game of choosing the right symbolic treasures for her. We did some of this with her eyes closed as the candle and soap had to smell ‘just right’.
And then the inspiration came – just the day before a brand new super huge much needed washing machine had been delivered to her household. The chosen items were to be spirited home and installed in the laundry as a personal shrine complete with a ‘sweetness’ painting. A cleansing of soul and sanity and hopefully odour and taste!
The urine – well on National Radio that weekend a solution was broadcast – white vinegar. It works like a charm apparently as long as you can survive the smell of urine AND vinegar for 3-4 days.
I offer the laundry shrine story in the knowledge and experience that in the face of seemingly insurmountable pressure the use of symbols energetically creates a different pathway for us to follow. It acts as a declaration to the universe that we are ready for help and open to some ease.
Arohanui
Kerry-Ann
Yes, my friend has a number of very real pressures in her living and had been talking about her life ‘turning to shit’, now it was starting to smell and taste like ‘shit’ - a very high price to pay for life in the hard lane.
I phoned to say that I had a ‘thought’ I wished to share with her over a cup of tea. When we met we started to tease out how come it had to feel so hard all the time and what might just shift her thinking – not the constraint of her situation – just enough to make life a little less shitty.
To that end I had found and bought a range of symbols that might represent the introduction of some ‘sweetness’ into her living if they made sufficient sense to her. I had assembled in a bag a cake of aromatherapy soap, a glass ornamental wrapped sweet, a handful of lollipops and some candles to choose from.
Out of our conversation it transpired that she too had been asking some similar questions and was amused and delighted to play the game of choosing the right symbolic treasures for her. We did some of this with her eyes closed as the candle and soap had to smell ‘just right’.
And then the inspiration came – just the day before a brand new super huge much needed washing machine had been delivered to her household. The chosen items were to be spirited home and installed in the laundry as a personal shrine complete with a ‘sweetness’ painting. A cleansing of soul and sanity and hopefully odour and taste!
The urine – well on National Radio that weekend a solution was broadcast – white vinegar. It works like a charm apparently as long as you can survive the smell of urine AND vinegar for 3-4 days.
I offer the laundry shrine story in the knowledge and experience that in the face of seemingly insurmountable pressure the use of symbols energetically creates a different pathway for us to follow. It acts as a declaration to the universe that we are ready for help and open to some ease.
Arohanui
Kerry-Ann
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