Paring Down

To this day, I have no idea which of the two of us - John or I - was most surprised by my 1990 Christmas Eve crying jag.  It was our second Christmas, our first at Squirrel Haven.  Something happened & I burst into tears.  To this day, I can see John's startled self, hear his simple words - "This is not fun."

What did he mean, "This is not fun"??  Crying on Christmas Eve had been part & parcel of my adult holiday dynamic for years & years.  Never noticed that Mom didn't go off the deep end, that Mim didn't, that Peter definitely didn't.  But MY getting momentarily unraveled seemed my holiday norm.  John's comment, spoken in his marvelously neutral voice, unweighted by added agendas, took me unawares.

Not cry on Christmas?  Seriously?  Was it possible?

The two of us talked about it.  Didn't take a genius to realize that I'd spent a lifetime adding on one "must-do" holiday tradition on top of another, without ever dropping one.  If felt to me like it was MY responsibility to ensure that each of them got checked off my Christmas to-do list if the holidays were going to be acceptable to the rest.  Yet it all was anything but jolly for my John. 

For the first time, I set about paring down my expectations of what to do.  Which traditions really mattered, which didn't?   I got to the point of realizing that if others didn't care enough about a particular activity or holiday jaunt to help make it so, then it was actually okay for it not to make the cut.  Radical thought!  And liberating.

It didn't take many years under the new perspective to realize that Christmas has nothing to do with doing stuff & everything about celebrating relationship, especially on the spiritual level.  Things got a mega boost when John introduced me to a remarkable version of the Christmas story from the 1950s, sponsored by Bell Telephone & featuring marionettes that wondrously caught the reverence of the characters.  Watching it became our first common Christmas tradition; since I recorded it, we could watch it whenever it was convenient!  

Today, our "must-do" traditions are significantly less than they were 22 years ago.  We love going to the tableaux together (John still marvels that he stroked a camel on the cathedral lawn - there won't be any "shepherds' campfire" tonight, with all the snow & ice!), love shopping at Peddler's Village, but mostly we love the simple moments of being together & having fun.

John personalized one of my family's most iconic Christmas traditions.  Starting with that Christmas that was our first as Squirrel Haven, our second with Mom living with us, I asked John to read the story of the Christ Child, just as Dad had done.  For years, he read the blessed words.  Then, one Christmas, he read for a bit, then handed the book to ME to continue.  Picking up on his inspired idea, I read, then handed to book onto Mom.  To this day, we read the story the same way, sharing the reading & the listening.  

The house looks lovely, but not at all what it would have been when Mom was alive. Stocking will be hung, but not crammed with exquisite, "Where did you find this?!" treasures.  The only tree will be a tiny one, less than 2-ft high, well out of reach of kitties' inquisitive paws.  A beautiful room that welcomes snugs on the couch & calm, restful evenings of just being with each other. 

One tradition remains - the Lockhart nativity is still the first decoration to be put up.  So many memories, so much family joy.

Paring away the "must do" attitude leaves us free to fully enjoy.  Letting things be fully as they are rather than fussing over reconstructing some image of what was - how liberating! 

Am dedicating the next four weeks to paring down so many things in my life.  How wonderful that my efforts begin with celebrating Christmas in the pared down style developed over the past 22+ years.  What better success on which to build!!

Seriously - COSTA RICA??

Aside from a deep longing to visit Rhodeside, I've never ever harbored any sort of longing to visit Costa Rica.  Am a Vermont & Montreal type, not Florida & the Bahamas. 

Until now. 

Now, I long with every fiber in my being to be in Costa Rica the first week in February.  To be precise, to be at Blue Spirit Omega, in Nosara, Costa Rica, lapping up inspiration from Nancy Slonim Aronie. 

Yes, it would have been so much easier & waaaay less expensive to connect with her this past March at the Rowe Camp & Conference Center ~OR~ at Omega in June, but am only now reading her wondrous book, Writing from the Heart!!

So, Costa Rica it is. 

Is it in any way, shape or form SANE to plot & plan ways to get to a tropical paradise when I barely have one shekel to rub against another? 

Sanity has nothing to do with this! 

Just reading the first few pages of her book changed my life, made me realize that - at its most successful - my life's work is to help others, including but not limited to olders, experience every moment as present-moment memoir. 

Yes, yes, yes - that is a contradiction in terms, but the gist of it is what I mean.  To live OUR own, unique lives in a manner that honors each & every moment.  Every one.  To find rich material for life experience in the most challenging as well as the most celebratory times. 

As a blurb for the book - featured on the cover - notes, "I loved Writing from the Heart for its warmth, its wit, and its celebration of the ups, downs, and unexpected swerves of the writing journey."  

YES!  That is what I long to convey to my grannie clients, to my everyones - 

celebrate all of it!

It's possible that the first week in February might find me in frosty Pennsylvania rather than toasty Costa Rica, but a girl can wish - and I will!   But if fortune smiles on me in other ways & am still in SE PA come the week of 02/01/14, you'll likely find me nestled in my Squirrel Haven sactuary, a cozy spot all my own, tucked down in the basement, writing or enjoying solitude or experiencing some other uplifting aspect of lessons from the wondrous Nancy Slonim Aronie. 

Then again, you never know...   Every evening star will be tapped with a request, every sweet dream graced with splendid anticipation.  In my heart of hearts, am envisioning blowing out ALL my 03/07 birthday candles with a thank you instead of a wish!

Surprise Challenge

How many other people are like me, facing the startling challenge of making strides in personal work, only to have stubborn remnants of uber determined self dig its heels in & RESIST letting go of the very things I've worked so hard to release?  

So Hum ~ Who Am I?

The first day of what I term the ChOprah Center 21-day meditation series, Desire & Destiny.

Surprised by how much I took from it, what with being at the very public Swedenborg Library.  Yet, all surrounding distractions fell away as I followed Deepak's voice into the meditation. 

The same cannot be said of the internal distractions, the monkey chatter that played over & over atop the base note of today's mantra - So hum/Who am I?  Fascinating to feel the duck & weave of sounds & images that overlay the mantra.  My moment-to-moment reality is that whifty stuff continually competes just that way, diverting attention & focus & energies. 

But my deeper mind DID keep drawing my attention & focus & energies back to the mantra, back to be who I am, whatever that may turn out to be. 

My first dabble at meditation went far better than I expected.   So hum - What am I?


You are what your deepest desire is; as is your desire, so is your intention;  as is your intention, so is your will;  as is your will, so is your deed;  as is your deed, so is your destiny.
 

"Who Pays?"

This past week, I conducted an experiment.  Instead of test tubes, I had mini cupcakes; instead of chemicals, I had frostings, sprinkles & a smattering of embellishments.  To whit, I made 200 cupcakes for the New Church Day picnic at the church & offered a “frost & sprinkle” activity for any & all comers. 

John & I were tucked into the cloisters, which turned out to be an ideal location.  Most picnickers didn’t know we were there, so instead of being inundated with dozens & dozens of kids & adults waiting to frost & decorate mini cupcakes, we enjoyed ourselves with the about 40 souls who happened upon us & enjoyed picking out a mini, a frosting & a sprinkle. 

We had fun, dozens of kids & adults enjoyed it, and John took in stride his first outing as the  Cupcakester.  And I came away with good data for putting on our next community cupcake event (the July 4^th picnic). 

Next time (less then 10 days from now!), will prefrost the cupcakes (a combination of chocolate & vanilla cupcakes and chocolate & vanilla frostings), keeping them tucked away in a cooler.  Will haul them out as needed, about 2 dozen at a time, allowing enough time for frostings to warm up enough to retain a sprinkle or embellishment, without the frosting melting in the hot July temps.  And no one will have to wait for a child to decide which topping to pick!  (Ginny set the record on 06/19, taking 5 minutes to choose!)   

Instead of being at a long table, we’ll have the cooler with us at our picnic blanket, along with two of the small portable tables Leslie gave us when she moved to her parents – just the right size for a container of cupcakes on one table, an array of topping options on the other.  Easy to be open for business, or just enjoy our picnic.  Win-win, my favorite combination!

Offering cupcakes provides a reason for us to be at the picnic.  We don’t have children or extended family, aren’t particularly fond of picnics, don’t really have a spur to attend the community event.  Cupcakes provide a reason for & method of connection!

What amazed me with the New Church Day picnic foray was the number of adults who asked, “Who pays for your ingredients?”,  who were genuinely startled when I answered, "We do."  It seemed incomprehensible to them that I would underwrite such a venture.  

Let’s see – the cost of making the cupcakes was under $5.  Frostings set us back about $8.  Yes, I bought multi-colored non-pareils, rainbow jimmies, chocolate jimmies & a box of Nerds, adding another $8.  Didn’t have the dazzling choice of embellishments & sprinkles that’s offered at Bryn Athyn Bounty, baked mini cupcakes instead of the standard size, and had a relatively limited choice of frostings.  Did the whole thing for just over $20. 

Yet some people would consider that a princely sum.  Including people with considerable wealth.  

Why would I pay good money to give something away to kids & adults who aren’t related or connected to me in any way but through the heart?  A shocking # of whom seem stumped that I’d invest in cupcakes & frostings et al without thought of reimbursement or profit.  (At the New Church Day picnic, one man tried to forcibly pay me for the mini he frosted & decorated for an adult friend – he could not comprehend my refusal.)

Who pays?  That one question gets in the way of doing so much good.  

Last year, I put on a spur-of-the-moment New Year’s Eve party at our local retirement village.  Rented a classic Cary Grant & Katharine Hepburn movie, bought several bottles of Martinelli’s sparkling cider, hauled out my champagne flute collection, whipped up about four basic desserts (fanciest was the lemon bars).  We had a grand time & the whole thing cost me less than $30.  What was my return on investment?  Kept New Year's Eve depression at bay for two grannie clients & got to see the fun that everyone had, including John & myself.

Out of that evening came my dream of putting on a monthly pot luck dinner at Cairnwood Village, each month provided & served by a different group of community "youngers" in thanks for all that we have received from our older friends & relatives.  It would be an open invitation, welcoming all the Cairnwood Village residents and any elder from the community who wants to attend.  If someone wants to come, but doesn’t have transportation to & from, we’d arrange for someone to pick them up & deliver them home.

Nothing fancy.  My dream is for a true pot luck, with each younger bringing a family dish he or she particularly enjoys making.  Could be as simple & low cost as spaghetti casseroles, tossed salads, fruit juice & water, cupcakes & brownies for dessert.  

The food wouldn’t matter; the love behind it would. 

Yes, it would take a teensy bit of money to put on.  Yes, it would require time organizing & setting up & cleaning afterward.  But our time & energy, giving both freely, even joyously, is what provides the value.

To my shock, most people I talk to about my idea of a monthly pot luck consider it pie in the sky, a non starter.  Who'd pitch in to make it happen?  What's in it for them?  

From my point of view, who wouldn’t?  Who wouldn’t have a sense of reward from saying thank you to people who deserve hearing it every day?  

But it seems that to some folks, if an effort doesn’t include a pay back for them, it isn’t worth their time & certainly not their money or inconvenience.  

I don’t believe that’s most people.  I believe that most people long to offer some form of pay back for all the bounty we’ve received, especially those of us in my small hometown. 

There’s a great line in the film Scrooged, near the end of the flick.  Frank Cross, a once-sorry excuse for a human being who has seen the light, tells a TV audience, “It's Christmas Eve! It's... it's the one night of the year when we all act a little nicer, we... we... we smile a little easier, we... w-w-we... we... we cheer a little more. For a couple of hours out of the whole year, we are the people that we always hoped we would be!”  He goes on to talk about how it would be if we carried that Christmas Eve feeling into the whole year, that once you get a taste for doing for others, you’ll want it again & again.  A great riff on true charity, which does more for the heart & soul of the person offering it than it does for the recipient.

Personally, I’ve been hooked for years.  It feels great to let others know you see them, you appreciate them, you want to say THANKS.  My belief is that my little hometown is filled with people waiting to get a taste of such sweetness, to reach out & let others know they are seen, valued, appreciated.

Who’s going to pay?  Does it matter? We can all get unimagined returns on even the smallest investment.  We just have to make it, then feel it pay off.  

As the combined cast sings at the end of Scrooged, inviting the movie audience to join in ~

Think of your fellow man, lend him a helping hand –

Put a little love in your heart.

You see it's gettin' late, oh please don't hesitate –

Put a little love in your heart.

And the world will be a better place

And the world will be a better place

For you and me you just wait you just wait and see and see…

Optimistic Pessimist, or vice versa?

When it comes to my faith-based community’s foray into the Appreciative Inquiry process, am I an optimistic pessimist or a pessimistic optimist?

From the beginning, I was skeptical, leery that the announced process was just another system-in-a-box that had caught someone’s attention.  However, such an almost jaded reaction on my part quickly horrified me & sent me online to research the process. 

To be honest, what I read wasn’t all that encouraging (seemed better suited for  organizations with clearly identifiable stakeholders).  Then, I heard a different take on the process.  I brought it up during a Community Matters conference call & was surprised when a couple participants shared heart-warming stories about their communities’ AI experiences.  Success was possible!  Where once I saw only cause for skepticism, now I could see potential for great things. 

What touched me most were their descriptions of working up through grassroots (rather than from a top-down structure) and building off of extant best practices, achievements & successes.

Once I heard their stories, I looked forward to the next  AI “summit,”  which I attended with high hopes.  At first, it was exciting to hear people brainstorming ways we could seek opinions from the community’s older demographic – until they clarified that interest was limited to opinions about the “AI” process, not in general. 

That just hit me wrong.  Was my response tied to my own deep, community-driven desire to connect more fully to those older voices?  Possibly.  In any case, it was enough to leave me feeling unsatisfied & unengaged. But I continued to hold out great hope for the process to yield good fruit, especially since it would spring from seeds of my community’s successes & strong points. 

Yesterday, at church, I picked up the “Outcomes of voting on the Strategic Plan.”  After dropping off a grannie client, I headed to Be Well to enjoy one of my final café au laits (go vegan, at my doctor’s insistence, this week) & check out the Final Three. 

Sitting there in that cozy space, surrounded by pictures from last year’s Bryn Athyn Bounty, settled in to look over the results, culled from 200 participants at eight different community venues.   

The Final Three are:

• support people in spiritual living, and provide them with tools and support to engage in spiritual practices the Lord (??) tells us about;
• find ways to welcome young people into our church community and to involve them in it;
• ensure there is broad input and transparency in decisions.

Hmmm…  Not what I expected.  

To begin with, the first two seem more relevant for the ministry than for the grassroots laity.  But what took me seriously aback discovering each of the Final Three is a broad initiative, rather than a specific, action-oriented goal.  Not one of the three is SMART. 

Now, don’t get your knickers in a twist.  That doesn’t mean they’re dumb or not worthwhile.  They just aren’t SMART, as in:

Specific

Measurable

Achievable/Attainable

Relevant

Timely

What is an example of a SMART goal?  Rooted in the Final Three, they could be:

• Create a weekly online, interactive doctrinal class with direct involvement at its first airing, accessible at a viewer’s convenience any time thereafter, with the ability to share comments or questions, building up a rich archive of past classes.  
• Build off proven success initiatives such as New Church Live, SWET, and the various church camps (Maple, Laurel, the granddaddy of them all – the British Academy Summer School) to develop the first tier of a multi-level youth ministry that involves lay leaders, under the direction of pastoral staff. 
• Develop an easy-to-access & navigate interactive website that functions as a resource center, forum & access point to the Pastor’s Office on matters covering the full spectrum of issues related to decision making.

Caveat - I am not advocating any of these, simply using each as an example of a SMART goal:  Specific, Achievable/attainable, Relevant to the overall goal of strengthening a waning sense of community & connection, Measurable & Timely.

I apologize for my skepticism.  Chalk it up to over 20 years of corporate business experience with systems similar to Appreciative Inquiry.  I’ve been part of a select few that succeeded, many that struggled, and some that ultimately failed.  It is essential for the society for this one to succeed.

That said, two statements in yesterday’s handout stand out to me like red flags waving:

• “Over the past few months we’ve been asking people in the congregation to help us prioritize the 27 items on the strategic plan that arose from the Appreciative Inquiry process, and subsequent work with the Board, Pastor’s Office and School.”
• “Thus the pastoral staff and the board are happy with the results.” 

 Wow.  Both seem to indicate that key people are unaware that  1)  all related work is part of AI, from brainstorming beginning to ultimate real-time actions;  2) it’s based on being a grassroots effort - making organizational leadership “happy with the results” is not a goal.  Both statements leave the impression that  organization leaders used to taking the helm continued to do so, rather than dropping back to virtually invisible status, letting grassroots community members take the lead.

Maybe I am the totally wrong person to comment on the Appreciative Inquiry process. a process I chose to not be part of, therefore one I know very little about. 

For example, I am confused that the Final Three seem to address our deficiencies.  Isn’t that contrary to the very heart of Appreciative Inquiry, which is designed to focus on existing best practices, achievements, and successes? 

Am sorry for sounding like such a Debbie Downer.  But am I an optimistic pessimist or a pessimistic optimist?  I’d say the former - I believe great things can come out of Appreciative Inquiry, when the process is followed.  Not sure it has been.   

It’s clear that I have definite opinions on the Final Three & how the process was followed; still, it took me over 24 hours to come to the difficult conclusion that I have to share my thoughts.  Was kept awake last night by more than a glorious “super moon” streaming in my window.  

Speak up or stay out of the picture? 

Got me thinking about Stephen Covey's ladder.  What would you do if you saw someone with a brand new ladder, one that reached great heights & had a firm footing, but which was placed against the wrong wall?  Or maybe Christine Kane is right, and there is NO wrong wall.  

What to do, what to do?  

Speak up, or stay silent?

Spent what felt like a sleepless night batting around what feels like the quintessential  “damned if I do, damned if I don’t” situation.  Countless people have put in countless hours of dedicated work into this process.  It pains me that they might feel I am disparaging their efforts.  

Not so!  I am appreciative of all their work & inspiration, especially Erik Buss.  

At the same time, do I keep silent rather than share my observations? 

Whichever I do, I am at risk of either public or personal censure.

In the end, the process itself made up my mind for me.  “Appreciative inquiry is a strategy for purposeful change that identifies the best of ‘what is’ to pursue dreams and possibilities of ‘what could be.’ It is a co-operative search for the strengths, passions and life-giving forces that are found within every system—those factors that hold the potential for inspired, positive change.”  Knowing that, how could I stay silent?

So, we end up back at my original great hope - that the Appreciative Inquiry process ultimately nurtures & develops a healthy sense of community & individual connection to each other and the Church.  And, always - let the sense of community & connection grow, beginning with each one of us.  That is a process that never fails.

Real Deal - Bryn Athyn Community Theater (B-Act)

"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it's the only thing that ever has."   ~ Margaret Mead ~   In my little hometown, NO group has produced the dramatic changes in our community & our schools & our relationship to the larger community around us than Bryn Athyn Community Theater.  Not exaggerating, just a fact.

B-Act started 33 years ago with our first production, Arsenic Old Lace, performed on the stage of the Assembly Hall.  If theater historians visited Bryn Athyn today & went looking for the site of that first production, they would not be able to find it, search they high or search they lo.  It's been gone these 11 years, transformed (literally) into the Mitchell Performing Arts Center.  And the Mitchell Performing Arts Center (MPAC to most folks, The Mitchell to me) changed EVERYTHING about the Academy schools & community. 

The Mitchell's website describes it to a T ~ "The dream began in the 1980’s when a group of theater enthusiasts in Bryn Athyn, Pennsylvania collaborated to dream up new visions of a community theater. Among this group was Mimi Mitchell, longtime supporter of the performing arts and drama teacher at both the Academy of the New Church and College. In addition to being one of the major benefactors of the project, Mimi contributed her substantial enthusiasm and theatrical experience to the project."  

It started with that small group of theater enthusiasts, but it would never have happened without a couple of determined people who broke the resistance to building what is now considered an iconic campus building. 

The story behind the building of the Mitchell Performing Arts Center played like a melodrama.  It is difficult - unimaginable! - to believe the lack of interest in building what is now considered an iconic place & space.  Back then, everything was about sports.  Even when building did proceed with the performing arts space (which only happened after deftly placed pressure from a couple enthusiasts), there was no matching grant for funds raised as there had been when the Asplundh Field House was renovated & expanded; certain key features - which could only be included at the time of construction - were not added.  But virtue saved the day & the theater was built!  

Not that anyone in the audience would know.  From the moment the curtain raised on The King & I, everyone fell in love with The Mitchell.  It has been a hotbed for theatrical talent within the schools & Bryn Athyn & beyond.  The Mitchell Performing Arts Center personifies, embodies, shouts "COMMUNITY!!" from its rooftop.  

And it wouldn't have been more than a cockeyed-dream meeting skeptical scowls if it hadn't been for that small group of committed theater enthusiasts known as Bryn Athyn Community Theater.  Mega bravos!!

But B-Act had been a major, albeit quiet, ground breaker for more expansive community long before 2002.  It was, to the best of my knowledge, the first official Bryn Athyn community organization to welcome people outside of our faith.  Hard to believe in this day & age, opening it up was a controversial subject & there was not complete agreement it was the right thing to do.  How well that decision has played out over the years.

Such years!  Such amazing productions, including original productions written by B-Act members, including Liz Kufs' Avalon and Kent Cooper's  Under the Shadow of Thy Wings.  

Being on the B-Act stage changed at least one life - mine.  Back in the days when our productions were performed on the Heilman Hall stage, I was cast as Mrs. Boyle in The Mousetrap.  Cameron didn't cast me because I delivered the best audition - he cast me because I was the only one he could dragoon into volunteering, in spite of almost no acting experience & (sadly) little to no talent.  But being on stage opened an opportunity - through a wildly serendipitous turn of events - to step outside of myself for the first time.  By the time I tried out for & won the delicious role of the sarcastic & quick-witted Doreen, in Tartuffe, I was infinitely more adept at stepping outside of myself.  (My B.A. friends told me, "Doreen brought out a whole new you!", while friends from beyond B.A. said, to a person, "Type casting.")

From it's inception to present day, Bryn Athyn Community Theater has personified the real deal when it comes to being an awesome example of true community spirit.  

In its 32nd year, B-Act is as energized & splendid as ever.  Pirates of Penzance was nothing short of over-the-top FABULOUS throughout its sold-out (!) performances.  The future looks dazzling, with the multi-talented, energetic Justine Brannon (Mabel, in Pirates) taking the reins as B-Act president, building on a strong foundation of previous productions & Boards.  

It is not exaggerating to say that the high school, the college, the community (both immediate & beyond) would not be even close to what they are today without the spark & spur of Bryn Athyn Community Theater, the dreams of its small, committed group of enthusiasts, and the talent of its cast & crews over the years.  

BRAVO!  to an organization that changed its hometown and, in so doing, changed the world.  

Encore!!

Thoughtless (is good!)

Over the past few days, I have not acted normally.  And that is wonderful!

In the wee small hours of Sunday morning, decided to stud the edge of Tom & Nina’s scrapbox with ½” pearls, set 2” apart, instead of trimming it with ribbon as planned.  It didn’t hit me until later, long after the entire box was completed, that the pearl-trimmed edge mirrored an architectural element in the far background of the photo that graced the lid.  Happenstance?  At the time, I thought, “Serendipity!”  Now…  Not so sure.

About an hour before the party honoring the two kicked off, I crafted a “spacer” for the 12” x 14” box out of a piece of extra 12” x 12” black scrap paper.  It basically made itself.  No conscious thought on my part, although I was aware that the contents kept shifting.  Alas, the paper spacer kept collapsing – solved, when I simply rolled up a piece of paper & slipped it inside, creating enough tension to maintain its integrity.  Eureka!

Last night, I was tired.  Bred-in-the-bone tired.  John & I were picking up a few things at the grocery store, then we were headed down to Miss Philly Grill for dinner, because I was NOT up to cooking.  As we shopped, it hit me that what I really wanted on such a dank, dark evening was a nice hot plate of spaghetti – and I had a large jar of yummy sauce at home, along with a box of campanelli pasta (bell-shaped, captures the sauce).  What didn’t process until we were eating three hours later was that the amount of time it took to make the dish & let it simmer long enough to develop a full, satisfying flavor was also the amount of time it took for me to bake 175 mini cupcakes for today’s Cupcake Lady activity at the New Church Day picnic (looking forward to when we have a regular-sized oven & the same task takes 45 mins!).    I hadn’t consciously calculated the time & very light required energy in my head, but it’s pretty darn clear that something up there toted up the advantages.

With three  (3) such instances over as many days, am delighted to announce that I am clearly getting thoughtless.  As in arriving at good solutions without going through the conscious process of thinking.  It is an amazing feeling.  Especially at the ripe old age of 61!  

Am getting more & more thoughtless, and that is a VERY good thing!!

Real Deal - Star of Wonder

Yes, I know that a lot of churches have special Christmas programs that welcome one & all to participate.  But it will always give me shivers of joy wandering around the cathedral's Choir Hall during the annual Star of Wonder event, the first Saturday in December.  

Everyone is smiles as adults & children work on decorating cookies, making star ornaments, crafting centerpieces.  

As someone who grew up experiencing the Choir Hall as just a space to stand around in during a wedding reception or what you walk through on your way into services, is it a never-ending joy to feel the warmth & good fellowship, the welcoming aura that fills the room throughout the year, but especially at Christmastide.  During the Star of Wonder, it feels like the building is holding all of us in a happy holiday hug.  What could be a more real deal?!!

Real Deal - Tibetan Monks at Glencairn

Bryn Athynites do not, in my opinion, have the above-average sense of community service & personal interaction with folks in need that I was raised to believe we have.  

It's not that we aren't generous with our time & energies, it's just that a) it's not as universal as many seem to believe, and b) I've known a lot of people, neighborhoods  & faith communities outside my beloved boro that put us to shame when it comes to outreach.  It's quite possible that many folks in my hometown go over & above the norm of helping others, but they are not as unique as sometimes painted.  

There are ways where Bryn Athyn is truly unique & incredibly wonderful.  Consider the Great Hall at Glencairn.  Where beautifully-gowned women once danced with elegantly dressed men, Tibetan monks  spent a week creating an exquisite mandala out of sand.

Interesting flip from the long-ago days, when Bryn Athynites believed the best way to illustrate & protect our distinctiveness was through intentional separation from the larger community.  A core reason for bringing the monks to Glencairn - a desire to introduce folks in the immediate AND larger communities to different cultural traditions, different ways of expressing faith - was quite the flip from what was once the "norm."  

The monks were a hit!  

Visitors were intrigued by the ritual art form, which originated in India over 2,500 years ago and has been practiced in Tibet since 600 A.D.  The design of the sand mandala is based on instructions in ancient texts.  It is usually done collaboratively (at Glencairn, it has been done collaboratively and by a solitary monk), as part of a religious ceremony or initiation.  India 2,500 years ago and has been practiced in Tibet since 600 A.D.

It was easy for admirers to grasp that the brightly colored sand conveyed the message that although we may be different colors, may look different, we are all one.  But unsuspecting onlookers were stunned by the piece's final message - after giving them several moments to appreciate his handiwork, the monks deconstructed the whole amazing thing, illustrating that nothing in life is permanent, things are always changing.  

What a remarkable experience, watching a priceless piece of art being created in a vaulted room filled with priceless art - except this piece would be gone forever in a matter of mere moments, leaving behind a priceless message of peace.

We need to release what was - all of it.  

Theirs is not a religion of massive introspection, but one of release.  Instead of dithering about what to do to ensure we are on the path to heaven, they step away from following "shoulds," instead believing we are meant to live a life that makes sense to us, not living by rules, but from a core of what feels right, what brings peace.

What the museum presented went far beyond the mandala.  A minister/teacher gave a lecture on the origins and unique aspects of the Tibetan style of Buddhism, including the purpose, symbolism, and ritualistic elements of mandalas, and proposed possible connections between Buddhist and New Church teaching (can't imagine how that might have gone down 50 years ago!).  The guest curator was NOT a Swedenborgian!!!  Even more radical, he believes Buddhist & Swedenborgian traditions share certain key insights on how to realize genuine fulfillment, including that true spirituality demands an engagement IN this world (not separation from it).  How that might have ruffled feathers back in those long-ago days, when devout believers were convinced in the utter & complete distinctiveness of the religion!  

Welcoming the monks to Glencairn, presenting us with new information about how an ancient faith connects to our practically brand new one, proved a wonderful, affecting way to introduce us to different cultural traditions, to different ways of expressing faith.  

Thank you, everyone at Glencairn - when it comes to serving a distinctive use that's truly unique & distinctive, different from anything you'll find in communities around us, it's the real deal!!

Blasphemy

Today, someone shared - in a very public forum - a story illustrating the rare community spirit that he sees hallmarks our hometown and religion.  

It may seem blasphemy to many, but the strong community spirit - dropping off hot soup & homemade bread to someone who's sick, folding laundry for a frazzled family - that he sees in Bryn Athyn is just as as evident all around our little town, from Huntingdon Valley & Hatboro to New Hope & New Britain, in dozens of faith communities & hundreds of neighborhoods.

Mind you, it's a vaunted sense of community service & support that I look forward to helping  blossom from perception to glorious reality.  But at this point in time, we are not the altruistic community that so many life to envision. We never were - but we can be!  We can turn things around, encouraging & nurturing a glorious tradition of volunteerism & engagement, instead of being a place where most folks seem to invest their time & energies in things that touch an area of interest, rather than an area of need.  

"But that's human nature," friends have said.  

Yes, it is.  Am talking about appealing to our spiritual nature.  

How many times have I seen folks in my beloved boro be exceptionally supportive - if those in need are somehow on their personal radar.  I've heard their reasoning - "We only have so many unspoken-for hours in a day, so carefully doling them out makes sense on a certain level."  Hey, it's only human! 

Give me a magic wand & a bunch of wishes.  I'd abracadabra a Bryn Athyn that fully personifies the exceptional community spirit, engagement & nurturing volunteerism many envision is already in the here & now. A place where released energies spur unimagined initiatives.  

Making this vision real - a community filled with folks pursuing full-hearted "good neighbor" energies - is my until~my~last~breath purpose.  

Strange but true - since I was a little kid, what I've fully, completely envisioned typically ends up a reality.  Downright spooky.  Well, my full, complete vision for my little hometown is it becoming a genuine hallmark of full-throttle community service & support.  And that we will just BE that way, without noticing it & certainly not pointing it out.  

Pardon me if this seems blasphemous, but patting ourselves on the back smacks of taking pride in being different than others, being better, more atuned & active.  Reality Check:  as someone who's done my best (and failed) to get people involved, am here to tell you that what the world considers volunteerism is not all that pervasive in our little boro.  But it can & will be!  That's not blasphemy - that's a promise!

To be continued....

Renew, Refresh, Revitalize

YAY! for the folks in my hometown for looking around & realizing, "Yikes!  Where's our community??"  And three cheers for the Appreciative Inquiry process, a way to start looking at the dynamics we cherish & new ones that could be introduced; it helps open the way for so many initiatives to come tumbling into our consciousness & be expressed into life.  

Personally, I lack the patience necessary for a process like Appreciative Inquiry.  Give me a ball & let me run with it, show me a need & let me start filling it.  Different strokes for different folks - together, they form a picture, a collage of community-oriented activities directed at helping keep my little hometown a strong community.  

Mom liked to quote Bruce Glenn, speaking of our faith - "The first generation had inspiration. The second generation had loyalty.  What will our (meaning his & Mom's) generation be remembered for?"

Dean Glenn's comment gets me wondering about today's conglomerate of generations of Bryn Athynites.  What will we be remembered for, when it comes to nurturing our community?  

Sensing all the focused energies currently considering Who are we?,  What do we want to express?,  How do we want to be experienced?, perhaps it will be "renewed, refreshed, revitalized."  

Facing Patriarchy

For all of my life, I considered my little hometown a paragon of stewardship.  How unsettling to realize that much - maybe most -  of its vaunted qualities reached back a strong patriarchal hand.  

Much of what my family & neighbors experienced as a rich community experience WAS wonderful, but it was handed to us.  Literally.  We were encouraged to be generous & kind, but there wasn't an urgent need to put our shoulder to the wheel, to create community-nurturing events.  They were all around us, ready made.  

In many ways, that history provides a great jumping off point to a renaissance of rich community  experience.  We can describe how it felt doing certain things, a good starting point for figuring what we can do to achieve a similar sense of connection.  

Stewardship is the polar opposite of patriarchy.  It is easy to see the importance of stewardship, but the lure of patriarchy is hard to recognize & resist.

To me, stewardship is making opportunities available & seeing when others point to them.  It means speaking up, then stepping back, letting people embrace the opportunity or shie away from it.  That is HARD, at least for me.  Every fiber in my being wants to pursue, cajole, persuade.  That is not stewardship.  

Maybe it's not everyone's definition of the word, but for me stewardship is about helping people be themselves, whether I like it or not.  It means leaving myself open for others to help me do the same.  It is not about striving to control outcomes.  

How does a town steeped in patriarchy recognize where its positive & negative impact on our culture, how it still influences us individually & within groups, and explore ways to become a steward-based community?   Challenging, yet exciting.  It won't take leadership or the outpourings of committees & charts, but the engagement of human hearts & hands.

Staggering AH HA!

Duh duh & double duh!!  

Just hit me - when we had our counseling session, Peter said our family life was so toxic, he & Mike & Mim left home as soon as they graduated from high school.  

Did I visibly stagger backwards, realizing the truth of what he said?  Felt like it.  

Our family life was toxic.  Intensely so.  I felt it.  Still do.  

For me, Peter was one of the primary toxins!

My guess is that Peter & Mim & Kerry experience me as the primary toxin.  It's a good bet that Whitney & Reynolds, maybe even Scott experienced me as the primary toxin.

Our family was spectacularly toxic.  And we all had a part in it.  What's perhaps most interesting is that I haven't a clue how I could have been anything but toxic to them.  And vice versa.  Not personal, just utter opposites.  

Illuminating....

Ancient Patterns

Gee, I'm grateful to have written my 03/17/13 posting about my oldest brother's total disconnect to earlier events in our lives - - legions of memories wiped clean from his mind.

Got a newsy chatty letter from him this week, asking me if I would drop off the family crest - remarkably carved by Val Sigstedt from natural woods - that the Bryn Athyn church society gave Dad over forty years ago, in thanks for his volunteer work.  And he'd like to take me out to lunch ~ to Chick-Fil-A or Chucky Cheese or McDonald's.

Hmmm....

A delicate reply to write.

As I wrote in last month's posting, my surviving sibs + one seem to experience me as fingernails across a chalk board.  It is unnerving, never knowing when something I say will drive them around the bend.

Peter is an interesting fellow.  It's hard to remember a time I didn't have a sense that my existence didn't, at best, severely tax his limits.  If he is to be believed, a lifetime of memories has been wiped away.  In his recollection, he had virtually no contact with me after he was old enough to leave the house for college.  Pretty hard to come to address, let alone come to some sort of mutual understanding, past issues with a virtual amnesiac.  It's easy to understand, albeit hard to fathom - if a memory doesn't fit his present-day narrative, it never happened.  

For years, I tolerated Peter because of our relationship.  Took me until the past 10 years to fully appreciate that relationship requires two (2) people, not one wishing & hoping for the best.  I never thought I'd have an opportunity to respond in a new way to an old toxic dynamic.

Yet, here was his letter.  Awaiting a reply.

Being careful to stick to "I" statements, I explained that his long history of displeasure with my existence (I phrased it more diplomatically, but that is the reality), I must decline his invitation.  I have grown past being able to invest the emotional reserves necessary to be around him - it's exhausting, never knowing when something I say will seem to get under his skin & drive him around the bend.  Better to wish him well & keep our distance.  At least, it’s better for me.

Sheez, never thought I'd have the opportunity to face the issue in an active state.  A sad & sorry blessing, but was grateful to respond with clarity & love, at a distance.

It wasn't until late this afternoon that I was struck as if by a lightning bolt by the timing.  It's been four months since Whitney moved to Australia.  I might not register with Peter as a flesh & blood person, but someone who makes him feel like a brother when he needs a relationship fix - oh, yeah.  Mom could always make Peter feel the loving, devoted son; I was always at the ready to treat him as the brother he loves to be.  

Did he write because he needs a heaping helping of feeling part of a family?  I don't know - maybe yes, maybe no.  

Just know that I am past trying to puzzle it out.  Am 61 years old with limited reserves of energy.  I wish Peter all the best, but beyond - am all played out.   Ancient patterns are tiring, although I rejoice that i was able to give my response a new spin.

"The emotional brain...

...loves the status quo."

Have taken so many giant leaps forward, but seem to be right where I've always been - seeing the best path forward, yet not taking it.  Is that nuts?

No, it's normal.  Because our emotional brain - the part of our thinking with the greatest amount of clout over what we DO v. what we say we intend - loves the status quo.  

Here's a disturbing thought - my sense of status quo was forged in the heat of a family largely off-track on their own & totally off the rails when it came to me, the youngest.  I grew up in an inverted family culture - too complex to explain, too icky to want to.  Suffice it to say that what most people put first, we put last & vice versa.  Abberation was my norm, it IS the set point my emotional brain keeps trying to protect.  Gadzooks!

Over the past 39 years, I have loaded my brain with reasonable, logical, insightful ways to approach life & living, yet still I struggle more than I succeed.  Small wonder.  

Our thinking brain can expand to accept endless reams of information, to discern which bits are worth remembering & which deserve being tossed into a virtual dust bin.  It makes us paragons of an educable being.  

The same cannot be said for our emotional brain.  Just as our physical body strives mightily to maintain a set weight point, so does our emotional brain.  No matter how much we ingest in the way of forward-moving knowledge, our emotional brain will strive - often mightily - to keep us right where we are.

At this point, there's not much, if anything, I can do solo to turn wretched life patterns around.  Read all the books, nailed down the data, but am not succeeding in getting my emotions out of the way.  .  

On the one hand, it makes NO sense to me to know a best path forward & not take it.  But that's what I do.  Friends seek to placate me, saying, "Oh, that's just human nature."  Perhaps - but that doesn't make it less dumb.  At least it doesn't to me.

I've had my laptop for over a year.  Haven't used it.

Know that a tidy house will help me feel stronger.  It's as big a mess as ever.

Haven't submitted billing for a grannie client in over six weeks.  What's that about??

My 2012 "State of the Human" letter has now lapped seriously into 2013.

Am not self-flagellating.  It's just that I've gone as far as I can on my own.  Proud of all I've achieved over the past 39 years, especially over the past 11.  But the reality is that my status quo-loving emotional brain is quick, clever & cunning.  And it thinks that it is HELPING me, which gives is extra incentive to keep things the way they've always been.  I've gotten far enough by hard work to realize the work I cannot do alone.

What to do next?  And will I do it??

Remembrance

In writing a post about my oldest brother, I mentioned having to accept how wildly different his experience of family & personal life events were from mine.  It is a lack of memories that leaves me no other option but to accept it because, as I wrote, "my brother remembers what he remembers."

It seemed strange, writing that, since it gave me such deep personal pain - the worst I've ever felt - when Mom used basically the same phrase in describing Mim.  

This dates back many years.  I was around 38 or 39, married for a couple years, if that.  As I had for what felt like eons, was once again endeavoring to get the three of us - Mom, Mim, myself - together with a family counselor to figure out better ways to communicate & connect. 

For all those years, Mim had pledged "maybe someday, but not now" we'd get the help I'd long advocated.  I finally started pressing when she at last - in her 40s - had her masters, a car of her own, a car of her own, and a traditional job of her own.  Mom brought up the proposed counseling with Mim, who brushed aside Mom's assertion that she at the least owed me a sense of loyalty for all I'd done for her over the years - according to Mom, she said that, yes,  I'd offered to do things for her, but that she had never taken me up on the offer.

When Mom told me that, I was stunned - and totally unprepared for what was about to come.

I asked her the logical (to me) question, "What did you say to that?"

"What could I say?" replied Mom.  "If that's what she remembers, that's what she remembers."

Almost word for word what I wrote about Peter.  So why was it so devastating when Mom said it & seemed so logical when I wrote it about him?  

Honestly, it happened so long ago, and I was such a different person, more dewy eyed & hopeful that the hopelessly broken could be miraculously fixed ~.

I asked Mom the logical (to me) question, "What did you say to that?"  

"Well," Mom answered, "If,, that's what she remembers, that's what she remembers."  

It crushed me at the time, hearing her say that, but here it is, over 20 years later, and I've written the same thing about Peter.  "He remembers what he remembers." 

They all did.  We all do,  all of  us human beings.  We remember what we remember.  Was interested, after writing the last post, that I mentioned that my brother remembers what he remembers – can be stunned by it, but there’s no way I can change it.

That phrase  - he remember what he remembers – kept niggling at me.  Why did it seem so familiar?  Oh, right – that was, word for word, what Mom said that after Mim said she "the past is the past & the family no longer exists as a unit."  When (in her recounting to me) Mom said I at least deserved some sense of loyalty because of all I'd done for her (Mim) over the years, my sis was reported as saying, "What things?  She (me) offered, but I never took her up on them."

Stunned, I asked Mom the logical (to me) question, "What did you say to that?"  

"Well," Mom answered, "If that's what she remembers, that's what she remembers."  

It crushed me at the time, hearing her say that, but here it is, over 20 years later, and I've written the same thing about Peter.  "He remembers what he remembers." 

They all did.  We all do,  all of  us human beings.  We remember what we remember.