tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54219682735159417802024-03-15T00:27:09.155-07:00lisa gammel maasspiritual direction & retreatsLisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.comBlogger75125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-29682420436707617692019-09-29T09:16:00.008-07:002019-09-29T09:19:13.561-07:00<table style="border-collapse: collapse !important; color: #5d5651; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 18px; margin: auto; text-size-adjust: auto; width: 75%px;"><tbody>
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Imperfection and perfection go so hand in hand, and our dark and our light are so intertwined, that by trying to push the darkness or negative aspects of our life to the side...we are preventing ourselves from the fullness of life.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">JEFF BRIDGES</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #38761d; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><span style="color: #21a62f; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: medium; text-transform: none;">Want to receive In Clover by email? </span><a href="http://feedburner.google.com/fb/a/mailverify?uri=InClover" style="color: #4d469c; font-family: verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large; text-transform: none;" target="_blank">Click here to subscribe (it's free!) with no threat of spam.</a><span style="color: #21a62f; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: medium; text-transform: none;"> </span></span></div>
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Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com28tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-30987848044164714322018-10-08T07:05:00.001-07:002018-10-08T07:05:51.853-07:00Open Your Heart<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">I'm convinced that focusing, as so many of us do, on having an "open mind" or being "open minded" is keeping us stuck. I'm convinced it is my heart that needs opening. What would it be like if we replaced our intention to keep "an open mind" with the intention to keep an "open heart." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: large;">The work of spiritual elder Louise Hay was one of the first to open my heart. <a href="https://www.louisehay.com/powerful-5-minute-meditation-to-open-your-heart/" target="_blank">You can click here</a> to find a mediation she suggests for opening the heart or google and find one that speaks to you. You can share it in the comments. There is no "one best" heart opening meditation. Try what resonates. </span> </div>
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<br />Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com13tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-918970452969716452016-02-27T11:52:00.001-08:002016-02-29T05:35:34.208-08:00in clover: collage<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">When I began my training program in spiritual direction almost six years ago, we were asked to bring in some creative something or another...I can't remember the given prompt and I don't remember what I brought. But I do remember that my friend Patsy brought to our small group the most wonderful collage...most of the images were cut from magazines ("O! is the best!" she said) and they were glued to simple drugstore poster board...but Patsy's collage was so beautiful it was worthy of hanging in a gallery. I was in awe. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Patsy shared with our small group that creating collage pieces had become an important spiritual practice for her, one that she engaged in regularly. After creating a collage, Patsy would "be" with her creation. She'd take it with her to spiritual direction sessions. For Patsy, collage was prayer...meditation...a way to discern...a way to understand the relationship between herself and the Divine. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">One Sunday morning Patsy packed up her car with boxes of magazines, poster board, scissors and glue sticks. We, along with another friend, met up at Patsy's church and spent the day together, cutting and pasting. "Always write the date on the back of your collage", Patsy instructed, "and give it a name." We had a wonderful time together and we vowed to collage together again, soon. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Not too longer after that Patsy discovered she was ill and in what seemed like an unbearably short period of time, Patsy died. I wonder what happened to her collage pieces. I know she kept them. I hope the friends that cared for her in her final days kept them. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">It took some time, but I finally amassed enough magazines and catalogs and old calendars to invite others to collage with me. As often as I can, I incorporate a collage experience into retreats I lead or groups I facilitate. I remain in amazement of what can be uncovered. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">For the last two years, my Wednesday night group at Central Christian Church, Cultivating Mindfulness, has used collage to uncover a "word of the year"...something to pay attention in the coming months. This years word for me is LIVE. I have no idea exactly what that means for me. The word itself is rather unimportant. It's the invitation to go deeper that matters. Patsy taught me that about collage. It's never really about what is on the surface...there is always an invitation to look beneath. </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Just a few weeks ago I was invited by another retreat leader to engage in a mandala collage...I always eagerly anticipate a collage experience, inevitably followed by some pretty intense anxiety over what it will "look like" and eventually I settle in to what matters most...simply paying attention to the images and words that catch my attention. I had never used a round format before and my internal reaction to that was interesting in and of itself! </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">One noticing: working with</span> a<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">page from an affirmation calendar that said "I des<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">erve to live a happy and fulfilled life" W<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">ANTED to be <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">included but didn't seem to fit quite right. Eventually I realized it wanted to be trimmed to <span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">read, "I deserve to live." I'm still sitting with what that means, exactly. </span></span></span></span></span></span> </span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As I began to work with images I had chosen.... </span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZiElRCVlV2l-9NKUrRshLxyxIBtJSokulLSuZQilVqBfZAuhhsn240iRgMJ5LUciQMU6dRH8vu_kjlPpAcdBd5OtiiPe7otq3XbHxMguoiicg7Kbl2DOSgnvck3Sf2EZF7WMsioY1pfQg/s1600/IMG_7849.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZiElRCVlV2l-9NKUrRshLxyxIBtJSokulLSuZQilVqBfZAuhhsn240iRgMJ5LUciQMU6dRH8vu_kjlPpAcdBd5OtiiPe7otq3XbHxMguoiicg7Kbl2DOSgnvck3Sf2EZF7WMsioY1pfQg/s640/IMG_7849.JPG" width="640" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #38761d;">And the end product....</span></span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRtQzg9GqGbONW01BTkeIr3O2XLBC1utPEU9pj1-3hdtG_LagsItYqgmQG2fUP762q_xPjpdB92uHwKjUQoh_JOxzhYute0HqMxm5uKbN9d2MxAzHSSD-w_0I-UUjYH9eGBXTZG9qmPtjZ/s1600/IMG_7850.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRtQzg9GqGbONW01BTkeIr3O2XLBC1utPEU9pj1-3hdtG_LagsItYqgmQG2fUP762q_xPjpdB92uHwKjUQoh_JOxzhYute0HqMxm5uKbN9d2MxAzHSSD-w_0I-UUjYH9eGBXTZG9qmPtjZ/s640/IMG_7850.jpg" width="480" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I am pleased that in 2016 I will offer a series of mini-retreats, in collaboration with Liz and Connie, proprietors of the Blue Heron B&B and Retreat Center. The April retreat will feature collage as a meditative and spiritual practice. If opening yourself to the process of collage interests you, perhaps you might join us. </span></span> </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Want to receive In Clover by email? <a href="http://feedburner.google.com/fb/a/mailverify?uri=InClover" target="_blank">Click here to subscribe (it's free!) with no threat of spam.</a></span></span> </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkWU5KfemFMNw3XyyiTsV2RFQ4n4OFi2NdygCrnVhIudPxDFIWpIASNB1ca5diietYLqWwhC07kHC_aWbkCdmj6TpEqgKP9DtCSyd1yItHZnZs9BdcdX53jLmyc5Rp4uXVCyTPL2Mu3PK_/s1600/healing-hearts.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkWU5KfemFMNw3XyyiTsV2RFQ4n4OFi2NdygCrnVhIudPxDFIWpIASNB1ca5diietYLqWwhC07kHC_aWbkCdmj6TpEqgKP9DtCSyd1yItHZnZs9BdcdX53jLmyc5Rp4uXVCyTPL2Mu3PK_/s320/healing-hearts.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="font-size: large;">Collage for Insight: A Day of Colorful and Creative Meditation</span></span></div>
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<a href="http://www.blueheronretreat.com/" target="_blank"><span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Blue Heron B&B and Retreat Center</span></span></span></a></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">270 East Prong Road</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">Richmond, Ky 40475</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"> www.blueheronretreat.com</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #351c75;">Saturday, April 23</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">9:00 - 3:30</span> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #20124d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Oftentimes
we can learn a lot about ourselves when we "turn off" our thinking mind
and "tune in" to the heart. One way we can help ourselves do this is to
experience meditation in an unexpected or new way. Join us for a day of
fun and color, as we open ourselves to the insight of collage. <br /><br />You
will be led in quiet meditation and then guided into a self reflection
of word and image. We'll end the day in contemplative group engagement.
Others who have participated (even those having doubts about this
process) have found collage meditation to be fun, surprisingly creative,
and the personal insights garnered to be profound and sacred.
Participants often report receiving further insight for weeks and months
to come, as the wisdom drawn out from themselves and placed onto paper
continues to be revealed. </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #20124d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">All supplies and a home cooked breakfast and lunch are included.<br /><br />Lisa Gammel Maas, spiritual director will be leading this retreat.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #20124d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Cost is $55.00; Call 859-527-0186 or email Lisa to reserve your spot.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #20124d;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> Class is limited.</span></span></span></div>
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<br />Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-12182884883210643582014-12-23T08:38:00.000-08:002016-02-27T19:18:55.541-08:00In clover: waiting for JOY...<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Some of you who have followed my blog may recall that in the past few years, I have chosen a "word for the year." Or rather, I try to allow the word to choose me. I have really enjoyed this practice....past years words include: </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">REAL </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">CREATIVITY </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">RESURRECTION</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">and last years not very pleasant word, which in February I claimed as PAIN in <a href="http://www.readinclover.com/2014_02_01_archive.html" target="_blank">this blog post.</a> </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Imagine my surprise when this year, some time in November, a word found me. early. Well before the new year. I became certain that my word for the year is JOY. Everywhere I looked...JOY. Definitely JOY. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">One day, flipping through a catalog, I saw a Christmas wreath that spelled...JOY! I was delighted by the idea of seeing my word of the year on the door every day so I placed my order and looked forward to the arrival of JOY with great anticipation. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But JOY did not come. Other items I ordered from this company arrived but no JOY. I called the catalog company and was told JOY was being shipped directly to me from a third party....it is supposed to ship the very next day, the woman on the phone told me. Yay! I waited a week but still no JOY....</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">In an attempt to be clever on Facebook, I posted a status that said, "My JOY is on backorder." A friend called, concerned about me. Not to worry, I told her, I was trying to be funny but the conversation did get me thinking....WAS my "joy" on backorder? I didn't think so....granted, I was experiencing some challenges but I had also noticed many small, exquisite moments of JOY this advent season. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Like cookie baking with my family...</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">and discovering our little park lined with luminaria, a gift from neighbors...</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi74-S6eGEw8BRxPns6jXMF6a-_SjI9Lz1bQCfF64JSsdrC0-0efik7sXZhkTMzCO6FGq58-loxo5M6ubLKLSIpdbkN13SBsOqFer2NYnNyBeKTusBql6pXMSYBNYOlEIoP_yINe0cQdPnb/s1600/IMG_6102.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi74-S6eGEw8BRxPns6jXMF6a-_SjI9Lz1bQCfF64JSsdrC0-0efik7sXZhkTMzCO6FGq58-loxo5M6ubLKLSIpdbkN13SBsOqFer2NYnNyBeKTusBql6pXMSYBNYOlEIoP_yINe0cQdPnb/s1600/IMG_6102.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> and listening to the children sing....</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">There were more moments of JOY than I can begin to document here but still, no package containing JOY arrived. I placed another call to the company. The woman who answered was very polite and helpful. I wondered if my order had been cancelled. She told me that the only information they could get out of the supplier was that JOY would indeed be shipped and would arrive before Christmas but she had no other information. We had a cordial conversation....I mused out loud about perhaps buying a substitute wreath for the door....she said she completely understood and would be happy to cancel the order so I would feel free to buy something else. But I decided that I would really like to wait and see if JOY would arrive. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Every day during my quiet time, I reflected on the missing JOY. I wondered if I was being stubborn and insistent but it didn't feel like that was the case. Then, I was given the honor of helping to lead a Longest Night Service of Healing and Remembrance. The service was held on the winter solstice...the longest night. There, among those who openly acknowledged their suffering and sadness and yet still sang together, even as they cried, I felt joy mixed with sadness. <span class="p"></span> </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Light amidst the brokenness...</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYSxaGNQrPilB-r3nCU0YeUBR_4KJsU851wrnahtovX65jyPf6I2t6E19ypUVZuWGfAdLZ2Nob_odrJWqMvx0p5CAoY8WcpfNLulga2zKQw4UPiIR5AqhnjWHSnxKVmFoDxKiPt1tgm6tr/s1600/IMG_5347.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYSxaGNQrPilB-r3nCU0YeUBR_4KJsU851wrnahtovX65jyPf6I2t6E19ypUVZuWGfAdLZ2Nob_odrJWqMvx0p5CAoY8WcpfNLulga2zKQw4UPiIR5AqhnjWHSnxKVmFoDxKiPt1tgm6tr/s1600/IMG_5347.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I decided that the best we can really do is to try to leave space for joy. </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And I decided to see my wreathless front door as just that.....not missing anything.....but expectant with plenty of room for JOY, whenever it arrived, if it arrived. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The next day, a friend stopped by for coffee. She came bearing sweet gifts....a beautiful coffee mug inscribed with the words "Comfort and Joy"</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd1FHO4fvSefLy36rehxBO3J59X6mRKlJFmIRgNVLNpai-Uw8vEYDdbPg-kQeQfYXoO0GGNg54vNNA569zEr9N7AbTbPOsb8Aw_bfbsyCAAwe73wEdB4u2JM4_sLrbp173cGST3gjpKy4P/s1600/IMG_5351.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjd1FHO4fvSefLy36rehxBO3J59X6mRKlJFmIRgNVLNpai-Uw8vEYDdbPg-kQeQfYXoO0GGNg54vNNA569zEr9N7AbTbPOsb8Aw_bfbsyCAAwe73wEdB4u2JM4_sLrbp173cGST3gjpKy4P/s1600/IMG_5351.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">and a box of special tea, named "Warming Joy." </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj18U03vvP8TGs6sooivzMyDiVsVhI-ZioseFvKlwtagWfneOERVSSpCfwiAAYh7RL2GpvpFksJ1_6Ug4hkanwCgxhUU9wh44TkbAWIWB5b4lxyUnR4qxR-4EZN5RGC7_DQP-DRUlSqx6E9/s1600/IMG_3621.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj18U03vvP8TGs6sooivzMyDiVsVhI-ZioseFvKlwtagWfneOERVSSpCfwiAAYh7RL2GpvpFksJ1_6Ug4hkanwCgxhUU9wh44TkbAWIWB5b4lxyUnR4qxR-4EZN5RGC7_DQP-DRUlSqx6E9/s1600/IMG_3621.jpg" width="426" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I laughed with delight...my friend had NO idea I was waiting for JOY and she did not know about my word of the year. I wondered if the message was that JOY will show up if you leave room....but perhaps not in the way you are expecting it. I left the house content with the JOY I received. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And then, on the day after the Longest Night, just like that.....JOY arrived. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_BNLr3MNfK-6ShNNvfOWqcP1_59Qlx5zgJcao2mGF4J6HQf_SSkYm1jkDpD9oAoB6CGn8o_Unq2N0xdWJESEFJc3ouZSUvDnrIZO7TW1jKbFs2QO_blX5mSJAzz1ZEI79yLJQFH4YS1aE/s1600/IMG_3616.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_BNLr3MNfK-6ShNNvfOWqcP1_59Qlx5zgJcao2mGF4J6HQf_SSkYm1jkDpD9oAoB6CGn8o_Unq2N0xdWJESEFJc3ouZSUvDnrIZO7TW1jKbFs2QO_blX5mSJAzz1ZEI79yLJQFH4YS1aE/s1600/IMG_3616.jpg" width="404" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it."</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Wishing you joy and peace this holiday season but if that will not come for you this year, praying for you to know that you are not alone, until the light comes again. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">peace and every good and much love to each of you, </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Lisa </span></span><br />
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<br />Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-68633710085072168432014-12-01T06:03:00.001-08:002016-02-27T19:19:14.024-08:00in clover: thanksgiving<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Some of you have asked me why I have not been writing....I'm not saying for sure but I am mostly convinced that perfectionism has something to do with it. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Author Anne Lamott has this to say about the "p" word: </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>“Perfectionism is the voice of the oppressor, the enemy of the people.
It will keep you cramped and insane your whole life...”
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">So...Thanksgiving, in a less than perfect post: </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The <b>THREE</b> of us (Big C is a college freshman now...with a car...and a schedule of his own) traveled back to my home, in Western Kentucky, as is our custom. My Dad holds space for us to be together, whoever WE might be, in a great big house he insists on calling a cabin on Kentucky Lake. My brother and his sweet family came this year, an unusual occurrence. Big C met us there. My aunt and uncle and my cousin live near by. Other loved ones didn't make it this year....we'll keep our fingers crossed for next year. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I usually assist my Dad with the turkey but this year I assisted my brother who has a knack in the kitchen. He turned out a really fine bird....very pretty AND tasty! </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We took walks in the woods before and after we ate cherry pie. Three of 'em, to be exact. Pies, that is. The dogs swam in the lake. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I brought homemade blackberry jam and my brother made biscuits for breakfast. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Little c and her cousins played with dolls and made quilt forts. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Harper the Dog wrestled day and night with my brother's dog and my Dad bought some dog bowls to keep at the cabin because "we have dogs now." </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My cousin brought her new baby who looks just like she did as a baby. I kept saying that until someone found old photos to prove it! We all passed the baby around, admired her kick ass shoes and made silly faces to amuse her. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My aunt made her famous artichoke dip AND she made her famous spinach dip AND she made a fuss over the "cowboy candy" I brought for the first time this year....I gave her the rest of the jar to take home with her. Her mama came to dinner too. Generations of Us. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We listened to old songs on a fancy new speaker we could all control from our phones (FUN!) and found some <a href="http://www.folkuke.com/" target="_blank">new (warning: not fit for all audiences!) favorites</a>. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">On the day after Thanksgiving, we moved the stack of pies and coconut cake off the counter to make room for leftovers. Left down low, my brother's dog helped himself to a 1/4 of a triple layer coconut cake AND the plastic wrap that was covering it. In about 2 bites. While no one was looking. And no one got pissy. EVEN though we really, REALLY like the coconut cake my aunt buys from the Senior Citizens Holiday Bake Sale. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We drank craft beer and lots of wine and tea, iced and hot. Michael fixed us oatmeal for breakfast. We talked about getting older and growing up. Maybe. Someday. We fell asleep early and woke up early and finally managed to stay up til 10:30 on the last night. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Dad's wife left early to catch a plane because her new grandbaby was born! On my niece's birthday! We all relived our labor and birth stories in solidarity. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My dear friend sent an email that she lost her mother that night. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My sister in law knitted an Outlander inspired cowl for me. Lickety split! I showed her how to crochet like my Granny showed me. Well, not that good but as good as I know how. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My dad saw a coyote. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I made sure we had too much butter and no one let me forget it. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The turkey brine leaked all over the made-one-day-ahead sweet potato casserole. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I <b>FORGOT</b> my camera (but my uncle loaned me his!). </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I thought I found a geode, but it was just a rock. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I had one job for the day-before-Thanksgiving-last-minute-go-to-the-Wal-Mart-trip.....keep charge of the list. So I left it lying on my bed when I ran back to my bedroom to grab my phone. Wal-Mart isn't exactly close to the cabin. My brother took a picture of it and emailed it to Michael. Whew. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We remembered family sorrows and we were somber. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br />We poked fun at one another. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We laughed. A lot. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">If perfectionism is the enemy, I am so glad we had a less than perfect Thanksgiving. But it seemed pretty perfect to me. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Blessings to all ya'll. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Namaste, </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Lisa </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com22tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-58874619834140617412014-05-14T05:02:00.000-07:002016-02-27T19:19:25.978-08:00in clover: when I don't know what else to do.....<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I plant stuff in the ground. Sometimes. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I was not feeling so great yesterday but after a talk with Michael and lots of coffee, I got up, I got dressed (kind of), and I got in the car and out into the sunshine and headed out to buy some jalapeno pepper plants. </span></span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCOVRn0SxhoErDUg_UDANqTtF0l50x5s69K36osFFHsGQXNYhI5mHkl9bNzU2d6kyrDn0a5yr7iPJq7V9XLdJbOiB0fIOiWSXQ1pelMFMlsTqypExbZLNhVoHPEhZW9iWpFMwqFrqgt5_S/s1600/Beechwood-1356.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCOVRn0SxhoErDUg_UDANqTtF0l50x5s69K36osFFHsGQXNYhI5mHkl9bNzU2d6kyrDn0a5yr7iPJq7V9XLdJbOiB0fIOiWSXQ1pelMFMlsTqypExbZLNhVoHPEhZW9iWpFMwqFrqgt5_S/s1600/Beechwood-1356.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">jalapeno pepper plant </span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I've never planted jalapeno peppers before because frankly, they aren't my favorite. Nor Michael's. But my friend Kera traded me a jar of her home canned "<a href="http://www.food.com/recipe/candied-jalapeno-or-cowboy-candy-453141" target="_blank">cowboy candy</a>" (sweet and hot jalapeno peppers) for a jar of my home canned dill pickles. A few days ago, I ate cowboy candy on triscuits with cream cheese until I almost popped. And it was <strike>almost</strike> worth it. I only say almost because I have 10 + pounds to lose in - 3 weeks. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Yesterday morning, I thought about that cowboy candy and how, if I planted some hot peppers now, I could put up tons of cowboy candy this fall. And that thought was enough to get me out of the house. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">It. is. that. good. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Knock-you-right-out-of-a-rut-and-make-you-plant-something good. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Damn.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">So I bought three plants and I squeezed them into my crowded raised beds. Not the best plan for a good harvest. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqqY3zLAnqdXF-N-YnVQSEynv3b72GndoXipDAog912If6mtMqL05zgQPtgfsMsqTjPXo3Rxl9RFI595muNnJmqeSOcJ6170hZCWwpU3KxZNhp5QJlLC8uT2x7D9XR2bHkugg4dv1l9HmL/s1600/IMG_1352.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqqY3zLAnqdXF-N-YnVQSEynv3b72GndoXipDAog912If6mtMqL05zgQPtgfsMsqTjPXo3Rxl9RFI595muNnJmqeSOcJ6170hZCWwpU3KxZNhp5QJlLC8uT2x7D9XR2bHkugg4dv1l9HmL/s1600/IMG_1352.JPG" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #38761d;">basil is happy in the raised bed this year</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But Michael reminds me, even if these plants don't grow many peppers, we can buy locally grown peppers at the farmers market and I can still put up cowboy candy to my hearts content. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I love a man with a backup plan!</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">When I don't know what else to do, sometimes I plant things in the ground. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjACmm5NCi3u3Hi0ZB9mHYFvCw7bdtNdofZbW7VIDad4o85eEYciaMK-hP20mWCj2Ly8iT3nS1_dcxjUkrwKk_91WqjafHtABhKrphVudfDCtVLOyhLUkd-Fq-EZhetoPardlAQRoQ5LH7I/s1600/Beechwood-1339.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjACmm5NCi3u3Hi0ZB9mHYFvCw7bdtNdofZbW7VIDad4o85eEYciaMK-hP20mWCj2Ly8iT3nS1_dcxjUkrwKk_91WqjafHtABhKrphVudfDCtVLOyhLUkd-Fq-EZhetoPardlAQRoQ5LH7I/s1600/Beechwood-1339.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">lantana </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Namaste,</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Lisa </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
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Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-40196996123429076352014-03-20T04:17:00.003-07:002016-02-27T19:21:23.872-08:00in clover: if you give a girl a tea towel.....<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My sweet friend Angie sent me a care box full of lovies a few weeks ago. In it was all sorts of chicken cuteness...a little chicken whisk...a little chicken tea cozy....a little chicken cookie cutter...and on and on. I had written to her about my jaw pain and she wanted to raise my spirits. I liked everything but I absolutely adored the tea towels she included. I hung them on my stove handle but I didn't really want to leave them there because I'm messy when I cook and I was sure I would splatter and stain them. No way was I going to use them for drying my counters or cleaning in my kitchen. I am as hard on tea towels as I am on shoes! I couldn't bear to put them away, though, so I hung them on the stove handle. Since I was feeling so badly, I wasn't cooking anyway. They seemed safe. And they made me smile every time I saw them. Sort. Actually, my jaw pain made smiling more painful than almost anything else. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Once I realized that the jaw pain I was experiencing was not going to go away easily, I did some research. I found out that one of the best places in the US for treatment of this kind of pain is right here in Lexington. Darn near right across the street from my house, in fact. It's called the <a href="http://www.medicalnews.md/new-orofacial-pain-clinic-has-grand-opening/" target="_blank"> Orafacial Pain Clinic at the U<span style="color: #38761d;">niversity of Kentucky.</span></a> And there is a very long wait list to get in. Apparently this is an all too common source of pain....mostly for women.....mostly in my age category. I know a lot of UK folks and a lot of doctors and I called everyone I could think of...and my dentist did too....but I was not able to get an appointment any sooner than two and a half months out. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But exactly one week ago, I got in! (That's another post!) I got in and I was truly amazed by the compassionate and skilled work that is being done there. I'm beginning to feel much better and I am now hopeful that I will eventually be pain free again. It could take several months but I am prepared for that now. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">All of this to say that yesterday I was able to do more than I have been able to do in months! </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I... </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">...went back to the gym with Michael and did a light cardio work out....first time in over six months!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">...went to the market and actually enjoyed picking out food and planning meals</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">...came home and cooked...I cooked two different soups, a full dinner AND an entree for later in the week</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">...worked with some of Big C's senior pictures in my photo editing software and made some plans for his graduation celebration</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">...laughed and smiled, and it only hurt a little </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">...and I found a great place for the cute tea towels...as part of the window treatment in my kitchen. </span> </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnCD5I3p0qInZbLQcIjYQzpl746cl5SIf5blmEzIG0O-GH0j7hnPNPj64PszKqbcu4MycTZkJZ5qq2bqNNe9fxrrC1SwZk1g0P6JD1Ga-5_VyDLT-iaVJymhrSpCPDgw-jNW3uZlTmAkZC/s1600/IMG_4415.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnCD5I3p0qInZbLQcIjYQzpl746cl5SIf5blmEzIG0O-GH0j7hnPNPj64PszKqbcu4MycTZkJZ5qq2bqNNe9fxrrC1SwZk1g0P6JD1Ga-5_VyDLT-iaVJymhrSpCPDgw-jNW3uZlTmAkZC/s1600/IMG_4415.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">If you give a girl a tea towel....she'll hang it in the window. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Where she can see it, all the time, and think of her sweet friend and smile. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And after she's hung the tea towels in this unconventional way, she'll realize that she's beginning to feel like herself again. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Herself again, but different too. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #38761d;">Because now she she has an idea of just how many people are in physical pain, all the time. And how awful that is. And she will be different now. More grateful. More empathetic. More aware. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #38761d;">She'll do her best to be more of those things. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #38761d;">Namaste, </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #38761d;">Lisa </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
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Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-3884130354217808642014-03-05T05:27:00.000-08:002016-02-27T19:22:13.221-08:00in clover: listen to my word....<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">When
I was a little girl, I talked A LOT. My family nicknamed me
"Jabberwocky." Sometimes, out of necessity and for the sake of her sanity, my mother would
"tune" me out. I understand. My children are jabberwockys too. There are times when I just can't take it in and I tune them out. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Sometimes,
when I was a very small girl, sensing my mother's distraction, I would
pull on her sleeve and say, "Listen to my word. Mommy, listen to my
word." We've always thought that a funny and odd thing for a little girl to say. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Last Wednesday night my spiritual direction group wrapped up a month long exploration of Celtic spirituality. I
shared this incredible blessing from John O'Donohue. I thought it particularly appropriate on that
night.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i> </i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>For longing </i></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>Blessed be the longing that brought you here<br />And quickens your soul with wonder.<br /><br />May you have the courage to listen to the voice of desire<br />That disturbs you when you have settled for something safe.<br /><br />May you have the wisdom to enter generously into your own unease<br />To discover the new direction your longing wants you to take.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><br />May the forms of your belonging - love, creativity and friendship -</i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>be equal to the grandeur and the call of your soul.</i></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><br /> May the one you long for long for you.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>May your dreams gradually reveal the destination of your desire.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>May a secret providence guide your thought and nurture your feeling.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>May your mind inhabit your life with the sureness</i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>with which your body inhabits the world.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>May your heart never be haunted by ghost-structures of old damage.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>May you come to accept your longing as divine urgency.</i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>May you know the urgency with which God longs for you.</i><br /><br /><a href="http://www.amazon.com/Bless-Space-Between-Us-Blessings-ebook/dp/B0010SEM7I/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1393502785&sr=8-1&keywords=to+bless+the+space+between+us" target="_blank">John O’Donohue</a></span></span><br />
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<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">With a handful of dark green pipe cleaners and some quick instruction, we set out to weave a <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Brigid%27s_cross" target="_blank">St. Brigid cross</a>, mindfully. Despite my reassurances that whatever you created or didn't create, it was ok, the important part was experience, well, really, the opening to the experience, folks were nervous about doing things "right.". No matter how many times I said it, they had trouble accepting that the outcome was of little or not consequence. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Brigid Crosses are traditionally woven from reeds. I had a bag of materials in the garage, saved for the occasion but Michael unknowingly "decluttered" them. In the end I decided on pipe cleaners because I knew it would be easier for their unfamiliar fingers to manage and might help keep our focus on the meditation, rather than making a perfect cross. I said over and over again, "Remember, it's just a pipe cleaner!" </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But even so, as we wove our pipe cleaner crosses, you could feel the judgment (and tension) begin to build. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">For most of us, our minds told us that we were:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">inferior or superior</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">too perfect or too sloppy</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">too fast or too slow</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">too determined or too hesitant</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">too focused or too scattered</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The interesting thing to me was the nature of this judgement. This was not the "judging of one's neighbor" that we are warned against in the Bible. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">This was different. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We didn't judge the woman to our left or the woman to our right or the woman across the room. We judged ourselves, pure and simple. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We were so judgmental of ourselves, we had no choice but to laugh at ourselves. The only other option would have been to judge ourselves for being so judgmental! </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Do you see what tricks the mind plays? </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">That voice that urges you to peek at your neighbor out the corner of your eye...to check your measure against your friends...that voice is not God. The voice that says you are not good enough is never the voice of God. That voice is not Holy or Sacred and that voice surely does not speak Truth. That is a small, small voice. It only sounds big because it is trapped in your head...it's bouncing around and echoing off the walls of your mind until you can hear nothing else. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">That small voice should not be able to drown out the love and longings that God speaks to you, but all too often we ignore the God-Voice that says we are beautiful, we are powerful, we are loved. We only hear that small, small voice that says we are not enough. It's small but it's loud and man oh man is it ever persistant. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We can't quite tune in to the God station....</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">we create our own static.... </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">we can't quite make out the voice of the Divine. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But if we will stop and listen and acknowledge and reach out...if we share our small thoughts and big fears with trusted soul friends, we can turn the volume down on that small voice. We can remove the static and tune into Love. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">When those small, mean thoughts cross my mind, my friend and mentor taught me to say, "Hello, old friend. Not today." I can choose to let those small thoughts pass on by. You can too. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Recently a friend sent me this quote from Sue Monk Kidd's book <a href="http://www.amazon.com/The-Dance-Dissident-Daughter-Christian/dp/0061144908" target="_blank">The Dance of the Dissident Daughter.</a> </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>"Mindfulness has been called a powerful form of self-healing by
many teachers and practitioners. How this process creates healing is
part mystery and part grace. Somehow in a slow, hidden way, we're able
to be with the depths of ourselves--our true natures, our souls--while
at the same time observing our thoughts and feelings and not becoming
caught up in them."</i> </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">May you have the courage to listen to the voice of Love. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span></span><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">May you have the courage to reveal your true nature. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Can you feel me pulling on your sleeve? </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Listen! Listen! Listen to my word!</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">You are beautiful </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">You are powerful</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">You are magnificent</span></span> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">You are infinite</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">You are eternal</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">You are loved</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">You ARE enough</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Namaste, </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Lisa </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Want to receive In Clover by email? <a href="http://feedburner.google.com/fb/a/mailverify?uri=InClover" target="_blank">Click here to subscribe (it's free!) with no threat of spam. </a></span></span><br />
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<br />Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-31067820097565815002014-02-25T04:28:00.004-08:002016-02-27T19:22:38.159-08:00in clover: and the winner is.....<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">For the last few years, I have chosen a "word of the year." Actually, it's more accurate to say that I have allowed a word for the year to choose me. Something to pay attention to....sit with....reflect on....and notice in my life. A word given to me for me, to consider. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Three years ago the word was "real." The year after that, "creativity." Last year, the word that chose me was "resurrection." Most often my word does not choose me by January 1, although sometimes there are clues. This year, as we traveled over Christmas and then celebrated the new year quietly at home, I had an inkling that my word could be "unravel". Santa left some totally awesome typeface magnets in my stocking this year and I doodled on the refrigerator during the month of January. I spelled out my top three candidates:</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">unravel</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">connect</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">heal</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Later that day, I saw that little c had noticed my words and left a list of her own. She wrote: </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_D6mQzL1K_dAejqYbxcKmrsNmFgyA-8iQg-2NFut07vPHej97TPJjazpBWd1wMlFqDA_BHBbQDa3Gt_weHuf91-rZIwMPTE_r1EuRD-b6xNYwE9IuQ6RILaNjr_1GxcBO9hYAJNqcs8X4/s1600/IMG_4123.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_D6mQzL1K_dAejqYbxcKmrsNmFgyA-8iQg-2NFut07vPHej97TPJjazpBWd1wMlFqDA_BHBbQDa3Gt_weHuf91-rZIwMPTE_r1EuRD-b6xNYwE9IuQ6RILaNjr_1GxcBO9hYAJNqcs8X4/s1600/IMG_4123.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I paid attention to her list as well....my word could be there. But, as January came and went, I still wasn't sure which word was mine for 2014. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">When I was quite young, nineteen, I think, I had several serious dental problems involving broken teeth, abscesses, root canals and ultimately extractions. Lots of pain that thankfully responded to meds. Going to the dentist still invokes quite a bit of anxiety for me but in an effort to stave off suffering I have devoted myself to regular dental visits and, for the last 17 or so years, I have not had any serious issues. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But when I went for my routine cleaning in September, my dentist told me he could see a crack in one of my lower molars on the left side. It didn't hurt but I had learned my lesson about ignoring dental problems! I was determined to be very proactive and head off any problems before they came to pass. I returned a few weeks later to have the tooth crowned. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And the truth is, things haven't been the same since. I have a wonderful dentist who has cared for me with expertise and compassion (and now I have a wonderful periodontist to care for me as well) and I don't need to go into all the details with you because...well, they are just details and aren't really important. And I'm certainly not writing to complain about my dentists. He's awesome. She's awesome. But the fact remains that despite receiving the best possible care from several very experienced and knowledgeable dental professionals, I find myself in a chronic pain situation. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">It has become pretty clear to me that my word of the year is P-A-I-N. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Throbbing, aching, stabbing, never can get away from it, not even for a minute, make you want to shoot yourself in the head (no kidding) pain. While I have had some aches and pains in the past, I have never been hospitalized (except for childbirth), or had a broken bone or even stitches. I rarely go to the doctor except for routine exams and I take no prescription medications and otc stuff very rarely. The worst pain I have ever experienced was dental (worse than labor) and even then, once I saw a dentist, had a procedure and was given pain meds, I was totally back to normal in a few days time. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">This is different. First off, the narcotics I have been given to dull the pain have not worked. At all. They don't even put me to sleep. Not for a minute. In fact, they seem to have the opposite effect on me. And so far, my dentists haven't been able to fix me. It's unclear exactly what is going on...whether there is a problem with an actual tooth or whether I have a bad case of <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/TMD" target="_blank">tmd</a> or both but this much I can tell you: </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I am not me right now. I wake up and I think I am ok so I begin to go about my business and the hurt sneaks up on me. Sometimes, tears well up before I even know I am about to cry. Even when the pain is more annoying than severe, I find it very distracting. I find myself saying things like, "I just can't think straight." I can't get much done in a day anymore. I have to prioritize carefully. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I was determined to postpone writing about the pain until I could tell you that it was gone and I was
well...and that I had figured out what it was here to
teach me...when I could tie it all up for you with a beautiful and spiritually relevant bow. When I could say, "Whew! That was hard. I'm glad that's over. Here's what I learned." </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But it's going on six months and it's not over and I'm beginning to wonder if this is something that will have to be lived with. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Another list might read: </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Frustration</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Anger</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Resistance </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">When little c was in the hospital as a newborn for nearly two months and I was having trouble finding any light, any God-ness, in the situation, my friend made a long list of things for which we could be grateful. If I am completely truthful with you, I will say that I long for a return to my life without any level of this pain. But I can see gifts too...for one thing, this pain seems to be drawing some amazing women healers into my life. And, thanks be to God, they have helped me reduce my pain to something manageable. And pain is helping me hone in on those things that I really feel called to give my time and energy to...if you only have a little energy, you learn to be pretty picky about what you spend it on. And BS? I don't put up with it anymore, not for even a moment. Well, maybe a moment, but not much longer than that. And I am learning to be grateful for things like a good night's sleep which I definitely took for granted before. And I am extraordinarily grateful for my friends who aren't scared away by my pain and will sit in it with me, when I can't be alone in it. I am very grateful to be seen and heard by a few, even when my story is unpleasant. Again. As for the ones who just aren't there yet? Who are uncomfortable with the pain of others? Well, God bless them! I mean it. I've been there, many times, but thank God for those who can hang with those now suffering. Seriously. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">One night little c brought me this "fortune teller" she made for me. Little c can hang. There is no doubt, c's got a gift for healing. She has healed herself several times over! This gives me so much hope because my c has been there and persevered. I keep it by my bed</span></span>:<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgiAzbQmv8v3_TavebROfH0NQ3AGzCLXnqnMqac47CIr8texy7M3et8-4CM71rN6c80GVvjiT5NHUfCIz_x2x0CGw4WQatC-PqfBZCB4KRd-QS_Cx_2YRvW3qLHwaaFteXQ2ywIdmlaYX2/s1600/IMG_4290.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgiAzbQmv8v3_TavebROfH0NQ3AGzCLXnqnMqac47CIr8texy7M3et8-4CM71rN6c80GVvjiT5NHUfCIz_x2x0CGw4WQatC-PqfBZCB4KRd-QS_Cx_2YRvW3qLHwaaFteXQ2ywIdmlaYX2/s1600/IMG_4290.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">One night, when I had been feeling good all day and then unexpectedly was hit with waves of pain at a night time meeting, I tearfully confided to a friend that maybe pain was my path to the Holy, at least for now. She responded with tears of her own and when she hugged me, her tears fell on my face and I swear, by the time I got home I was feeling better. Yes, I downed some Advil (and some vodka!)...yes, I grabbed a heating pad the minute I walked in the door but I was able to sit with my kid on the sofa and watch the Olympics and eat a Girl Scout cookie, ask him about his life and crack a joke. I didn't have to go hole up in my room, alone. Someone suggested that my friend cries tears made of Holy Water. Maybe. They sure felt holy to me. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">There may be holiness in this but I'd be lying if I told you I welcome it. I do not. Most days I want it to go away in the worst possible way. Please God, let me return to my old life...moving through my days with ease and very little gratitude...going about my day turning molehills into mountains and complaining about every minor irritation that comes my way. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I thought I was so present. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Not. even. close. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">My plan for the year:</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">unravel</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">connect </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">heal ! (notice the exclamation point...as in "NOW!") </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Reality:</span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">pain </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I finally gave in and added "pain" to the bottom of the word list. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ-cjHU0f-GkFrgckDmzW6ruW7rJmrREYFWsAZSSVeQlyW9LI0M3z4OolU0lZoik5tZ_jKwnGWgUgyY6pwyZ2tI2DaR7CNJevMyTsW-pLX3kFLrSl7Sor0wg8oQz7Sa3lUasOcGEc6dDIH/s1600/IMG_4340.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ-cjHU0f-GkFrgckDmzW6ruW7rJmrREYFWsAZSSVeQlyW9LI0M3z4OolU0lZoik5tZ_jKwnGWgUgyY6pwyZ2tI2DaR7CNJevMyTsW-pLX3kFLrSl7Sor0wg8oQz7Sa3lUasOcGEc6dDIH/s1600/IMG_4340.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I really want this dis-ease to go away but at the same time, I feel sure it is here for a reason. As part of a new years meditation, I did a collage exercise. I tried not to put too much conscious thought into the collage, but rather to simply respond to images and words, without needing to know why. My friend Patsy taught me to collage in that way....letting the images and words choose me and then sitting with them for hours, days and sometimes months. We do learn to "go deeper" in spiritual direction. This vignette speaks for itself, I think. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And this butterfly image is just to the left of the pain image, more in the center of the collage,....I love the butterflies, escaping their gilded box (beautiful...but still a box!) and the little girl, running in the sand among the sea oats....there is a quote from a Hafiz poem above her:</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWWtDmHC6bJg3fxbx1maxD6OrL-COo2VNaElJLrX0HNH399JrXozuVP85iN4xMZZsWiFf6np9xg6yFc96WW-g8kcB6fMdkdCbHZn8TDxfr9fu7-TpJYd5NwWu-h0G4yNmJd8Tgj_2xw46e/s1600/IMG_4343.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWWtDmHC6bJg3fxbx1maxD6OrL-COo2VNaElJLrX0HNH399JrXozuVP85iN4xMZZsWiFf6np9xg6yFc96WW-g8kcB6fMdkdCbHZn8TDxfr9fu7-TpJYd5NwWu-h0G4yNmJd8Tgj_2xw46e/s1600/IMG_4343.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Run my dear, From anything that may not strengthen your precious budding wings." Hafiz </span></i></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Then I wonder...what if I have the right words but have placed them in the wrong order? Maybe it looks more like this: </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGlLBNUIOL0Y6F0TB41JMf923-HbJLfm2jN0a6xQtbIVKe2fGYxPbKF24U_V7AifBuT0OGz8RGQEV4mQkJytBN8OxpGYQIahwFBsYe8Cx3aDdUNAq8rzjAlpUDeFhZDXdB-ThrkhmvZjcz/s1600/IMG_4344.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGlLBNUIOL0Y6F0TB41JMf923-HbJLfm2jN0a6xQtbIVKe2fGYxPbKF24U_V7AifBuT0OGz8RGQEV4mQkJytBN8OxpGYQIahwFBsYe8Cx3aDdUNAq8rzjAlpUDeFhZDXdB-ThrkhmvZjcz/s1600/IMG_4344.jpg" width="588" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I keep trying to move to the end but perhaps I'm at the beginning. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Maybe this is just the first word, and the first blog post, of a series....maybe next I will be writing about unraveling. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My friend Patsy taught me to read my meditation collages from left to right, as in,left=now...and right=movement toward. That helps me see myself moving from the images of pain to the images of the young girl on the beach and the butterflies escaping their gilded box. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I don't know. I'll sit with that. For now all I can say for sure is: </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span></span><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"Whew! This is hard. I'll be glad when this part is over. But for now, it is what it is. Here's what I think I am being asked to consider."</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">(Because let's face it...whether it ends tomorrow, next month, next year, or 40 years from now, eventually this part WILL be over.)</span></span> </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And I will take any healing prayers you will offer for me. This isn't going to kill my body and I am aware of that luxury. It sure is taking a toll on my spirit, though. I think sometimes we shame ourselves, when we feel pain, but our body is not dying. I think we say to ourselves, "Oh, it's not that bad. It's not serious." We don't have to wallow in pain, that's true, but we sure as heck don't have to pretend that it's not there. How can that be helpful? </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I think we need to take turns being healed and being healer. We need to give...and we need to receive. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">So, lay it on me, please! Picture me, ready to receive your healing touch. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I learned this simple prayer from a sister I knew only for a few days. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Utubariki Mungu Asante. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Bless us Lord. Thank you. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I have important work to do and am eager to return to it, full speed ahead. When you bless me, you are blessed. When you receive my blessing, I am blessed. Healing touch. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Bless US Lord. Thank you. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Namaste, </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Lisa </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">P.S. Hit Michael up with some of your healing prayers too....under the weight of not only caring for me but picking up all my slack....plus working to support us ....he came down with Shingles. Not surprising, but still painful. Lucky for him I was able to direct him to some amazing women healers. And guess what? One of them, who is very intuitive, told me that she really doesn't like to work with spouses of clients...it can cause trouble, she said. But when Michael went in and she laid hands on him, she could tell that we were LITERALLY created for one another. As in...he was made for me and I was made for him. "You waited awhile on him, didn't you?" she asked me. Yes! "Worth the wait, wasn't he?" Yes! "You chose well." she said. Yes, I did. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Want to receive In Clover by email? <a href="http://feedburner.google.com/fb/a/mailverify?uri=InClover" target="_blank">Click here to subscribe (it's free!) with no threat of spam. </a></span></span>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-70991236728757137062013-10-28T04:40:00.000-07:002016-02-27T19:23:05.190-08:00in clover: a (not so) rare experience<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">A few days ago, I realized that the Facebook page that supports this blog, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/pages/In-clover/184560058256553" target="_blank">In clover</a>, was at 196 "likes." I recall the day the page reached 100 likes, which was very exciting indeed. It has been at least one year to reach 100 more. This blog and the In Clover page are growing....slowly, slowly growing. On a good day, I do my best not to focus on how many or how few subscribers and "likers" there are. Instead, as <a href="http://www.stevenpressfield.com/" target="_blank">author Stephen Pressfield</a> said in a recent interview with Oprah, I attempt to focus on simply putting my "ass in the chair." In front of a computer. Now, type! It's been hard to do that lately but here I am again, typing. The thing that allowed me to start again was author Anne Lamott's reflection that the starting place is almost always a "shitty first draft." </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Now that I have graduated and I have an opportunity to see as many directees as the Spirit sends my way, my spiritual direction practice is also growing....slowly, slowly growing. As far as paid work, I now have four "directees" that I meet with quite regularly. I have also been priviledged to lead or co-lead a few retreats for other organizations for pay and I am looking forward to offering my own brand of weekend retreats soon. As far as unpaid ministry, I continue to work weekly with the group called Cultivating Mindfulness at Central Christian Church. We practice meditation, mindfulness exercises, contemplative group engagement and group spiritual direction. Cultivating Mindfulness, now in it's fourth year, has recently experienced some exciting growth, inviting us to move into a larger room at the church for our time together. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">If I am honest, I will admit that I am both encouraged and discouraged at the same time. For one thing, people are really, really busy. Most folks have little time for this kind of work. But that biggest barrier I notice is that many people have never heard of "spiritual direction" before. And yet, I hear many, many people expressing themselves in ways that leaves me certain that they crave the experience of spiritual direction. The problem is that most us lack the language to express it. Because we've never heard of it. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And often, after you try to explain it, folks wonder if it's something really strange....</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">....or why in the world you would pay someone to listen to you. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Or they completely misunderstand and think that a director will tell them what to think, believe or do. That either makes them very uncomfortable or very comfortable but either way, it's a misunderstanding of what direction is. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Recently, while perusing my newsfeed on FaceBook, I noticed <a href="http://www.couragerenewal.org/parker" target="_blank">Parker Palmer's</a> facebook status immediately. (I also noticed that Parker Palmer has 29, 322 likes on his FaceBook page) </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span class="userContent">"When
was the last time someone asked you an honest, open question—one that
invited you to reflect more deeply on your own life, asked by a person
who did not want to advise you or "fix" you but "hear you into speech,"
deeper and deeper speech?</span></i></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span class="userContent">For most of us, that's a rare
experience. In our culture, we tend to ask each other questions that are
"fixes" or advice in disguise. "Have you thought about seeing a
therapist?" is NOT an honest, open question!</span></i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><span class="userContent"><br /></span></i></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span class="userContent"><i>But when we share a pr</i><span class="text_exposed_show"><i>oblem
with someone who wants to listen and knows how to ask honest, open
questions... Now we have a chance to learn from our own inner teacher, to tap
into own inner wisdom."</i> </span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span class="userContent"><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span class="userContent"><span class="text_exposed_show">Palmer is dead on with this quote. He has articulated eloquently the importance and the beauty of participating in spiritual direction. This "rare experience" is what happens in a spiritual direction session. </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span class="userContent"><span class="text_exposed_show">It doesn't have to be such a rare experience. </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span class="userContent"><span class="text_exposed_show">It seemed important to me that I share that with you. </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span class="userContent"><span class="text_exposed_show">There you have it....my shitty <strike>first</strike> fifth draft. </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span class="userContent"><span class="text_exposed_show">Namaste,</span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span class="userContent"><span class="text_exposed_show"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span class="userContent"><span class="text_exposed_show">Lisa</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Want to receive In Clover by email? <a href="http://feedburner.google.com/fb/a/mailverify?uri=InClover" target="_blank">Click here to subscribe (it's free!) with no threat of spam. </a></span></span><br />
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Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-87321703455175190322013-10-25T04:50:00.000-07:002016-02-27T19:23:19.346-08:00in clover: rainy day cozy<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I've been a bit blue....not sure why. It hasn't been the weather, that's for sure! October blessed us here in Central Kentucky with glorious fall days...warmish with just the right amount of slightly crisp air and lots of sunshine...what some call chamber of commerce days...until last Saturday when it turned cold, dark and rainy.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Truth be told, I was in heaven. I LOVED it. I gave myself permission not to put on real clothes...turned on the lamps....lit a few fall'ish scented candles....cranked up the fireplace....put a pot of chili on....grabbed a big old furry throw and enthroned myself on the couch with a big pile of yarn and crochet hook. My intention was to try out this <a href="http://www.allcrochetpatterns.net/Home-Decor/Cherry-Delicious-Pot-Holder/" target="_blank">cute, vintage patterned potholder </a>I found on-line. Easey, peasey, no stress whimsy. The colors and vintage motif really appealed to me and I need some new pot holders. </span></span><br />
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<a href="http://www.allcrochetpatterns.net/Home-Decor/Cherry-Delicious-Pot-Holder/" target="_blank"><img class="cboxPhoto" src="http://www.allcrochetpatterns.net/images/cherrydeliciouspotholder.jpg" height="426" style="float: none;" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But after I got a few rows of the blue yarn crocheted up, I began to think this was going to be a somewhat petite potholder. I am a bit clumsy around the kitchen and often in a hurry, so I try to use a generously sized potholder to keep me feeling safe...just in case I slip. But I hated to give up what I had done and the colors were so much fun, I just crocheted on.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Of course, little c was wandering about, doing her own creative, rainy day things....singing, dancing, drawing and writing, it changes minute to minute....she loves a pj day as much as her mama. She asked if I was making something for her...no, not this time. But then I remembered a <a href="http://attic24.typepad.com/weblog/2009/10/wrist-warmers.html" target="_blank">cute, stripey pattern I had seen for fingerless mitts</a> and I wondered if my too-small pot holder might be just the right size to wrap around c's little wrist.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://attic24.typepad.com/weblog/2009/10/wrist-warmers.html" target="_blank">This is my inspiration photo from a wonderful, wonderful blog.</a> I want to live in her world! </span></span><br />
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<a href="http://attic24.typepad.com/weblog/2009/10/wrist-warmers.html" target="_blank"><img alt="IMG_6007" class="asset asset-image at-xid-6a00e551101c5488340120a5ecac60970b " src="http://attic24.typepad.com/.a/6a00e551101c5488340120a5ecac60970b-500wi" height="480" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">So I set out to convert my ill-fated potholder into a mini version of these stripey mitts. I kept the little scalloped border, that really adds a nice finishing touch. The only change I made was to stitch the seam in a single crochet on the right side of the mitts...I'm TERRIBLE at sewing a seam. I saw this as an opportunity to make the seam a feature, rather than trying to hide it poorly.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">After I finished the mitts, she was so tickled with them, she asked me to make a matching hat! Using a squarish shaped hat I purchased for her last year as inspiration and to help gauge a good size, I figured out about what the width should be and I crocheted a rectangle in a matching stripey pattern and then just folded it in half, top to bottom. I used the same single crochet stitch to seam the sides and then I found a you tube video that showed how to make tassels to adorn the corners.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Voila....a hat and fingerless mitts....all from my ill fated pot holder attempt. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG0niCnPhyeWcSHl2S6oWlSnESeWhci0M6KRhefYf1pvgbRlAhLh2gk4CliJOH4UcUMhjWidHZl6s2xAfgIqr7hDt1s82RXboV20Sw5V5PzxMpwgBrKYKRHWjWpQJdtsOMtXFYxIIRuV3B/s1600/IMG_3668.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG0niCnPhyeWcSHl2S6oWlSnESeWhci0M6KRhefYf1pvgbRlAhLh2gk4CliJOH4UcUMhjWidHZl6s2xAfgIqr7hDt1s82RXboV20Sw5V5PzxMpwgBrKYKRHWjWpQJdtsOMtXFYxIIRuV3B/s640/IMG_3668.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My blue day turned a bit sunnier, despite the rain and cold, and little c couldn't have been happier....</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqrbgWHugoZDvurzdeO9Mcw40NDohhuMYRDPGC-IZWTyMIDAB3disG3-BiLlK5YA5ohdRpPlnkwB-yOOLRG_hsSxz2lQVWFYkyw8fSgQujux3DNiBCTAd3BT8QfNxfhjmojHIAwwkTonB/s1600/IMG_3653.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihqrbgWHugoZDvurzdeO9Mcw40NDohhuMYRDPGC-IZWTyMIDAB3disG3-BiLlK5YA5ohdRpPlnkwB-yOOLRG_hsSxz2lQVWFYkyw8fSgQujux3DNiBCTAd3BT8QfNxfhjmojHIAwwkTonB/s640/IMG_3653.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Atticus the Cat was pretty happy with the laid back day too. I think he was very tired here...just worn out, after hours of trying to sneak my ball of yarn away from me. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">c insisted on wearing her ensemble to school on Monday, even though it had warmed up by then. She said that she wore them in class until her teacher had to ask her to take them off and that ALL her friends want a set of their own. Not bad, for a potholder. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Here's to rainy, cold, grey, but still cozy sorts of fall days. And to stripey mitts with matching tassel hats, sweet little girls and aggravating, yarn thieving cats, all who chase the blues away. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Namaste, </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Lisa </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Want to receive In Clover by email? <a href="http://feedburner.google.com/fb/a/mailverify?uri=InClover" target="_blank">Click here to subscribe (it's free!) with no threat of spam. </a></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span></span>
Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-38914421571307155432013-09-12T04:26:00.001-07:002016-02-27T19:23:33.663-08:00in clover: minds like crows<style type="text/css"></style>
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">“Our minds are like crows. They pick up everything that
glitters, no matter how uncomfortable our nests get with all that
metal in them.” Thomas Merton</span></span><br />
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</span></span><span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I like home décor and decorating television shows. An old favorite is “Clean House” on the Style channel. The premise of
the show is simple. The “Clean House” team (organizer, designer,
handyman and host) arrives at a home that is completely over-run with
lots and lots of clutter. They use all sorts of tactics to pry the
clutter loose from the grasp of the inhabitants and then sell the
clutter in a huge yard sale and donate whatever is left to charity.
The yard sale proceeds (plus a little extra) are used to make over
the home into a functional and inviting space. When the homeowners
play along, the transformations are really quite incredible.
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</span></span><span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As the team begins to sort the various items, identifying what
should go, disagreements break out over who should let go of what.
No one wants to give up their own stuff but everyone is quick to
point out what the other family members should give up. This accumulation of stuff is literally
rendering their homes unlivable. They know this is the truth but
they are overwhelmed by the task of cleaning it up or sometimes, they don’t really want to get rid of the excess. They just
don’t want to see it or have to step over it any more. Often it is clear that they really hope the clutter can be organized and stored,
rather than gotten rid of.
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</span></span><span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">There are mothers of teenagers who can’t let go of baby clothes
and bassinets and young adults hanging on to a childhood’s worth of
toys. There are piles of clothes, craft supplies, power tools, pots
and pans, books, car parts, holiday décor and super-sized
collections of every sort, ranging from velvet Jesus paintings to
Viking helmets. Sometimes the things belonged to a beloved family
member who has passed away. Sometimes it is left from a failed
business venture.
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</span></span><span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As the home owners stand in the doorway, gazing upon an unusable
room, they will explain to the team what the purpose of the room is
supposed to be…dining room, living room, guest bedroom…and then
they express what they would like to room to <b>become</b>... home
office, nursery, craft room, or simply functional again. But when it
comes down to letting go of all the clutter housed there in order to
transform the room into what they <b>say</b> they want, most of them
put up a big ole’ fight. I’m sure some of it is staged for the
camera but clearly in many cases, the team hits a real nerve. These
folks have seen the show, they know what kind of transformation lies
ahead, they ASKED for this and still, it is an enormous struggle to
part with these things. It’s humbling to be honest about the
condition of their home. And it’s a big job to begin clearing the
mess.
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</span></span><span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I’m sure you know where I am headed with this. About 20 years
ago, I read a book called “Clear Your Clutter With Feng Shui” by
Karen Kingston. At the time, I wasn’t all that sure about the feng
shui part but I found the book very inspiring. Now, I wasn’t knee
deep in clutter but I did have many, many things that just didn’t
serve me any more….clothes that no longer fit but had cost “good
money”, knick knacks that weren’t “me” but came from an
expensive store or were a gift from a dear friend, books I read but
would never read again, and so forth. In her book, Karen says that
your outer state is a physical representation of your inner state. That really got my attention. That made me uncomfortable.
That gave me something to think about.
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</span></span><span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I invite you to reflect on that. If it
makes you uncomfortable, that's ok. The goal here is not to judge how you feel but simply to notice it and then to sit with it. What do you hold in
your heart that you no longer need? A tendency to perfectionism? Anger? Resentment? Fear? Judgement? Like
the homeowners on “Clean House,” we can choose to be very brave….we can choose to be very honest …and we can choose to dig deep, past the surface layer.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">It can be very, very difficult to dig down deep. In spiritual direction practice, we have a saying..."a dragon guards the treasure." It can be very scary to confront that fire breathing dragon but truly that is what we must do if we are seeking transformation. </span></span><br />
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</span></span><span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We have very good reasons for the emotions we carry with us. Life is not
fair. We are human and we get hurt and we get angry and frustrated
and defensive and self-righteous and we become fearful. Like the
homeowner who cannot fathom giving up her only daughter’s out grown
baby clothes, we cannot imagine giving up our perfectionism, our anger and our
expectations and yet, that is exactly what we need to do in order to
truly live. As physical clutter renders a home
unlivable, emotional clutter keeps us trapped in the past; unable to
live fully; unable to move forward; unable to claim the kingdom. We can choose to create space in our homes for living and we can choose to create space in our hearts for Divine Transformation. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Now, not many of us can claim clutter free homes any more than we can claim clutter free hearts. After reading my post, if you are beginning to judge yourself harshly, please stop. Harsh judgement of oneself is not Sacred. Allow yourself some Grace. Remember...</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1vu7XQPx1AGskj1tfTyPekj5rseRDy8WPymvb4VCBnoeNzTiUwq2msoC8LsXxPmZEj7opIeC4TQ-zOpzBwS19PLMirPEWfLYc9w2FKwTCdXsgrrVwtp5TQWXxzAdfj_2rjyaXaVly3R0_/s1600/IMG_3435.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1vu7XQPx1AGskj1tfTyPekj5rseRDy8WPymvb4VCBnoeNzTiUwq2msoC8LsXxPmZEj7opIeC4TQ-zOpzBwS19PLMirPEWfLYc9w2FKwTCdXsgrrVwtp5TQWXxzAdfj_2rjyaXaVly3R0_/s640/IMG_3435.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">peace and all good, </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Lisa </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">(A version of this post originally appeared on The Bluevine Collective. I have been revisiting the issue of clutter, both the physical and emotional, in my own life and so I am revisiting this post. In the original post, which ran in September of 2010, I noticed that I said, "we must" and "we have to" and "we should." I have intentionally changed that wording to "we can choose to.") </span></span><br />
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<br />Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-82927075495528025282013-07-15T05:30:00.000-07:002016-02-27T19:23:44.654-08:00in clover: sacred brokenness<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbzSYLlsQ-XFLmRApxf5Qwe9XwycV4xBhPN13l6rSdnszd6HYHntnLmRt789wY4d4B4rGvIb6EcEqbcaK3QkS8sik8rRSHRYGtiUlIOp1jXw9VqrUpTtiODi7oTeX1_UnCfGIZ_Ld9Ozt3/s1600/Image006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="480" j8="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbzSYLlsQ-XFLmRApxf5Qwe9XwycV4xBhPN13l6rSdnszd6HYHntnLmRt789wY4d4B4rGvIb6EcEqbcaK3QkS8sik8rRSHRYGtiUlIOp1jXw9VqrUpTtiODi7oTeX1_UnCfGIZ_Ld9Ozt3/s640/Image006.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">(This is a post that ran a few years ago...I have no idea why but it wants to post again, today. Who am I to stand in the way of the spirit?)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">In the spring of 2005, I was expecting a baby girl (little c) and a 40 foot high cube container of antiques from England and France.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The few years preceding had been difficult for my extended family…there had been deaths, divorces, financial troubles and other trying personal issues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Lots of painful change. We had faced some hard times. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">Anxious to get the new inventory cleaned, displayed and sold before the baby arrived, I was counting down the days until the ship carrying my container docked in Norfolk, VA.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The container would then make its way by truck to the shop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everything would need to be unpacked, cleaned, inventoried, photographed, priced and sold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Post September 11, the import business had changed a lot but in almost 10 years we had never had any trouble getting our container through customs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Never say never.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>First the container was detained for X-ray inspection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Apparently my penchant for old garden and farm tools raised suspicions and so the container was completely unpacked for a physical inspection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was physically unable to do heavy lifting so Michael drove to Virginia. He had been told on the phone that he could repack the container.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A container, well packed, is a thing of beauty…hastily packed, it’s a disaster.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Michael drove home a week later, having never been allowed to even lay eyes on our container. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">Two weeks later it arrived and we held our breath.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A birdbath…the basin cracked in two…a carton of blue and white porcelain plates shattered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The leg of a very fine 18<sup>th</sup> century buffet, snapped. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The list went on.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we dug into the middle of the container I came upon a pile of what had once been lovely French earthenware jugs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was excited that I had been able to source so many and had imagined how I would display them and how great they would look.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They were shattered inside their shoddily replaced bubble wrap.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">At the end of the day, we realized it could have been worse. The furniture could be repaired, although it would be costly.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sat on the floor with the damaged plates and a hammer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I broke them into small pieces and displayed the broken bits in large glass canisters.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Finally I sold the pieces to a woman wanting to learn mosaic work. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Mike glued the birdbath together and brought it to our home…we didn’t think we could guarantee it well enough to feel right about selling it to someone else. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The French jugs were a lost cause except for one that was broken across the middle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I sat it in an out of the way corner, by my work station, and left it there. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">One day, I was helping a client sketch ideas and plans for a small fountain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She had an old tub to for the base and was looking for something for the actual font.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She decided on an urn…the water would bubble up from the center, cascade down the sides of the urn and back into the tub. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was going to be lovely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I had been threatening to add a water feature to our garden for years but I didn’t like the fountains I saw for sale at home improvement stores.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Hmmmm…. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I wandered the store looking for pieces to combine into a fountain.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One of the biggest hurdles to designing a fountain is hiding the pump.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew that my fountain would go under a dogwood tree so it needed to be low to the ground…not too tall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A low stone trough would be great but what to go with it? </span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Maybe an urn like my client chose? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, the colors were too similar.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>An enamel body pitcher?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, it would rust out in a season and the scale was all wrong. Maybe an English watering can?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, just didn’t look right. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the two pieces of the broken French jug.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I set the top in the trough.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The angle of the break was just right…just right for a fountain!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The dark brown color stood out against the putty colored stone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And best of all, because the bottom was missing (broken), the pump would be easily hidden.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Voila!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My perfect fountain. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">Most of the time, I am able to see the sacred in wholeness. But when something breaks, I try to fix it. And that’s ok…many things CAN be mended.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In fact, in this disposable world we live in, more things SHOULD be mended.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When things can’t be fixed or we won’t take the time or the trouble to try, we often dispose of them….send them off to the landfill where we don’t have to see them anymore.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">But there is sacredness in the broken things too…broken things, broken relationships, even broken people.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s all sacred.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When something breaks and cannot be fixed, we have an opportunity to re-vision it…give it a new purpose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead of banishing it from our sight, we can learn to live with the imperfection…the loss.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We can sit and look at the broken things…learn to appreciate them fully…even come to love them… maybe even more than we did in their wholeness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">As a whole, perfect thing, the French jug would have sat in my dining room…a lovely display. But in its brokenness, the jug directs cool water into a basin….the water makes music …robins bath in my fountain every morning!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Children cannot resist dipping their hands into the stream. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I am aware that the jug, in its brokenness, is much, much more fragile than when it was whole.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When the weather turns cool, I do not take a chance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A cold snap would shatter it for sure.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I store it more carefully than I do the other summer things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For one thing, how would I replace it? Where does one find a broken jug for sale?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The jug, BECAUSE of its brokenness, is precious to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In some ways, it is irreplaceable. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I wonder how it would feel if we treated the broken and chipped places of our hearts with the same care? <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a trainee to become a Spiritual Director, I am required to receive spiritual direction.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I think that so far, most of what I have been learning is just that…to accept, love and cherish those things about me that are nicked…cracked….even shattered.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When we search for the sacred, I hope we do not over look the broken things. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">Peace,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri" , "sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Lisa </span></span>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-86457953724651391292013-07-11T03:28:00.004-07:002016-02-27T19:24:04.914-08:00in clover: technical difficulty?<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Yesterday, I published a post called "Open for Business." For some reason, my email subscribers did not receive notification of the post. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I can't figure out why or how to regenerate the email, so this post serves two purposes: first, to see if it is fixed (will you get an email for THIS post?) and second, to let you know if you want to read what I published yesterday, click here: </span><br />
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<a href="http://www.readinclover.com/2013/07/open-for-business.html"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">http://www.readinclover.com/2013/07/open-for-business.html</span></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Ahhh, the universe! </span> <br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Namaste, </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Lisa </span><br />
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<br />Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-90126293193980222382013-07-10T05:35:00.003-07:002016-02-27T19:24:33.625-08:00in clover: open for business<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">It's taken me some time to work up the courage to say this here but.....I did it! I have officially graduated. I completed a three year certification process with Sycamore Spirituality Center....first, a one year program called Contemplation in Every Day Life and then a two year program called The Art of Spiritual Direction. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I have a certificate and everything! </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I graduated early in May. I traveled to Cincinnati by myself on a Friday afternoon. It poured absolute buckets of rain the whole way! When I arrived at the retreat center on the convent grounds, it was still raining but, despite the downpour, the gardens were absolutely stunning. I was not willing to get out my nice camera but I snapped these shots using my phone from under a large, black umbrella I found in the stand by the door. (I NEVER have an umbrella. I am sure that says something about me.) </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">After dinner, my friend Margaret and I took a walk around the grounds. We didn't mind that it was still misting rain. We had a lovely chat with one of the sisters who was taking the convent pooch for a walk. As we made our way around the grounds, I felt very drawn to this gate. I do not know why but I really wanted to take a photo of it. I don't think it was locked. Maybe I should have tried to open it....</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Later, after everyone had arrived, we gathered in a circle and spent time together, quietly and reflectively, in this beautiful space. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">All the things in the middle of the circle have special meaning. I found the circle of light even more beautiful and inspiring than usual. It was quite emotional. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The next day, after spending some time in gratitude for one another, we changed our clothes and got ready to greet our families and friends and then...it was time to graduate! </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Michael and the children drove up from Lexington and my sister and niece came too. It was nice to have family there. My spiritual director was also there which was a lovely surprise. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">During the ceremony, we were asked to rise and our family and friends layed hands on us. I can't even begin to tell you how special that was. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Each one of us received a blessing. This my mentor, Steve, blessing me. It was one of the first times in my life that I have been in "the center of attention" and didn't mind at all...in the past, nervousness and anxiety have spoiled special moments but not this time! </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We were also given a white "khata." A khata is a ceremonial Tibetan scarf symbolizing purity and compassion. The khatas we were given bears the image of a lotus blossom. I especially loved this because of the symbolism of the lotus flower. ReligionFacts website states:</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>"The roots of a lotus are in the mud, the stem grows up through the <span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD4">water</span>, and the heavily scented flower lies pristinely above the water, basking in the sunlight. This <span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD10">pattern</span> of growth signifies the <b>progress of the soul</b> from the primeval mud of materialism, through the <span class="IL_AD" id="IL_AD5">waters</span> of experience, and into the bright sunshine of enlightenment. </i></span></span><br />
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</i></span></span><span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i>Though there are other water plants that bloom above the water, it is only the lotus which, owing to the strength of its stem, regularly rises eight to twelve inches above the surface."</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Michael took this photo of me in my khata shortly after the ceremony. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And my sister took this photo of my family. </span></span> <br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">So, my training and internship period have come to end. I know that the work I have been doing for the past three years, both internal and while sitting with others...one on one and in small groups...has prepared me to go forward confidently with this work. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Recently, I was a co-leader of a beautiful, contemplative Service of Healing. It was very powerful. The day before, I led a group of 12 women in a Contemplative NeedleArts Retreat. I loved the experience and I am getting very positive feedback from those who attended. Last month, I led a Personal Mandala Meditation for a group of women who serve others in the Stephen Ministry program. And the month before that, I worked with a group of social workers and therapists from the Kentucky Center on Trauma and Children, based on Jon Kabat Zinn's work in Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction. I have even put together a brochure about myself and spiritual direction. The one thing I had failed to do was announce it here. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">So, UNIVERSE....</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">my spiritual direction and retreat leadership practice is officially: </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP5mCVZ8WdNcDfF8ps6HEMd0lC2gJkKZm2N4ZJ_29TBl3X0hUH6roYZxW6Dh62eUXaKI956ovMrYtstUmBta_XUhanP6dMwJK5l3Zwe3m9CVpk7XiTHmeZx-d_t_E-rHdnhVKGsRxL4XV9/s1600/iStock_000000051445Mediumcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="470" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP5mCVZ8WdNcDfF8ps6HEMd0lC2gJkKZm2N4ZJ_29TBl3X0hUH6roYZxW6Dh62eUXaKI956ovMrYtstUmBta_XUhanP6dMwJK5l3Zwe3m9CVpk7XiTHmeZx-d_t_E-rHdnhVKGsRxL4XV9/s640/iStock_000000051445Mediumcopy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And to all of you, I am going officially on record to say that I am available for individual and group direction work. If you want to know more, email me at lisagmaas@gmail.com. If you are part of a group that would like a contemplative experience, send me a note. My emerging specialty is providing creative, contemplative experiences. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I am qualified, prepared and eager to do this work! God willing, I hope to be doing this work for a very long time to come. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Namaste, Lisa</span></span><br />
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<br />Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-13985034645221332192013-07-01T06:05:00.001-07:002016-02-27T19:24:45.052-08:00in clover: Vulnerable Joy<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I had something written for today but I've just gone to let the chickens out and found one of my hens, a pretty little Rhode Island Red, dead in the coop. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Emmy Lou was the friendliest of all my girls and the one I would most often hand to a curious child who wanted to hold a chicken. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">This is me with a teenage Emmy Lou the day she came to live with us. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQWPDfAaUkUAkE3f6lRHalnEHylIPfPlX9Fa5eB-xLLkhOKSxx42UM6hMTypQHhb4iAnER8WNZO7d-T4jE8u009v-8Yv3QkjFfVqzjkH4CoLNiKvGZ0iTlfdPZdmwHzdIdyxrp396C9rYf/s1600/IMG_9955.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQWPDfAaUkUAkE3f6lRHalnEHylIPfPlX9Fa5eB-xLLkhOKSxx42UM6hMTypQHhb4iAnER8WNZO7d-T4jE8u009v-8Yv3QkjFfVqzjkH4CoLNiKvGZ0iTlfdPZdmwHzdIdyxrp396C9rYf/s640/IMG_9955.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And here's a shot of her on the roost with Nancy. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHuvEsSxjJpy-STXMocNfFhz_Ki3sTDNLfrgS_ZSJmMn36z4-kQNTYK7cGqozITR3IcicyGbKStRGOKUCjEpz3jbexkt1dVMhkSB1As_gZM4n3YD_C5cjWdoFLTW1lcRO0-iw4toCxa8HX/s1600/IMG_8122.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="446" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHuvEsSxjJpy-STXMocNfFhz_Ki3sTDNLfrgS_ZSJmMn36z4-kQNTYK7cGqozITR3IcicyGbKStRGOKUCjEpz3jbexkt1dVMhkSB1As_gZM4n3YD_C5cjWdoFLTW1lcRO0-iw4toCxa8HX/s640/IMG_8122.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Back when when had six...sunbathing together. Emmy is right up front. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmX2lwla3DIhVKi6NErLP9WGR-WcmX2k0jgUZbONMw-es3lsHhAPAIrQsgEWbGaqomUsoA0ZehJbsbV7vFvDTyFfq6txY17VhBCGyFyLgP8oS52I894A3EWodSWnlGfUr1Zvm5LmSJ-1jV/s1600/IMG_9460.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmX2lwla3DIhVKi6NErLP9WGR-WcmX2k0jgUZbONMw-es3lsHhAPAIrQsgEWbGaqomUsoA0ZehJbsbV7vFvDTyFfq6txY17VhBCGyFyLgP8oS52I894A3EWodSWnlGfUr1Zvm5LmSJ-1jV/s640/IMG_9460.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">I have been dreading the day that I would find a dead chicken. Honestly, it made me feel sick to think about it. It made me feel terribly vulnerable. My friend has kept chickens longer than I have and she told me that every time one of them dies, she says to herself, "I just can't do this anymore. No more chickens!" </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">She also has said to me many times, when wrestling with some difficulty, that she seeks out the calming presence of the chickens. "What did you do then?" I ask. "I sat with the chickens." I do it too. I call it my chicken meditation. I have recently made two new friends, both of whom are chicken keepers. And they report the same sense of peace when they are with their chickens, which seems to be proof that the feelings of vulnerability are worth it, even though it's terribly difficult. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">When I was a single girl, I had a sweet little cat I called "Bubba." He acted a lot like a dog, greeting me at the door. I LOVED that cat! When I was very pregnant with Big C, Bubba died. A neighbor, trying to stop birds from eating his garden up, had put out poison. It was awful for me and for over a decade I refused to have another animal. I swore I would "NEVER go through that again." This makes me laugh now...since I was only a couple of weeks from giving birth. Seriously! </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">We took in my dad's elderly cat when it needed a home but I refused to get very close to him. And he wasn't very friendly anyway, so it worked for us both. It was only because of Little c that we have a dog and two cats now....although the chickens are on me. Sometimes, in a quiet moment, I marvel at how I have exposed myself to vulnerable feelings by allowing animals in my home again. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;"><a href="http://www.brenebrown.com/" target="_blank">Brene Brown</a> has this to say about vulnerability: </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">"When we lose our tolerance for vulnerability, joy becomes foreboding." </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I am certain, for me at least, this is absolutely true. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Sometimes, like this morning, exposing myself in this way sucks. But most days, it's totally worth it and full of joy. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Maybe I will</span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> write a book...."Everything I Needed to Know About Vulnerability, I Learned From a Chicken."</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Maybe. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Namaste, </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Lisa</span></span><br />
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<br />Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-63752662428583719002013-06-24T03:53:00.004-07:002016-02-28T11:02:49.405-08:00in clover: S is for....<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">S is for Simplicity </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">This year little c asked to celebrate her birthday with a more intimate gathering than in years past. She suggested a day out with her mom and dad and one school friend and we were happy to oblige. Big brother is off on a church mission trip and as no family happens to be visiting this year, we thought she might be disappointed when there was only Michael and me to sing Happy Birthday to her. So we decided to invite neighborhood friends with children to stroll by....in that sweet spot, after supper but just before summer bedtimes...to sing with us and have a piece of cake. Easy for everyone!</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">There were still a few simple preparations. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">S is for Straws, made of brightly colored paper. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">While shopping for plates and napkins, I spotted these irresistible packages of brightly colored paper straws. The empty jam jars, piled at the bottom of the basement stairs, seemed like a perfectly simple companion for the old fashioned paper straws. Who knew straws and jam jars could be so inspiring? </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizbUDigmqfypV3qHj_RiUM_8Qu6iY6TPauvJljQ36z17Ki_MPLxgIJV1aR4FyFhOA2KUfkWDhnjx46aW2Vftk1uWMdNxPVadj6C2fo76N4mQZNH9YUH3p_UVnRetRT5doQDRE0tfmr0M6H/s1600/IMG_0284.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizbUDigmqfypV3qHj_RiUM_8Qu6iY6TPauvJljQ36z17Ki_MPLxgIJV1aR4FyFhOA2KUfkWDhnjx46aW2Vftk1uWMdNxPVadj6C2fo76N4mQZNH9YUH3p_UVnRetRT5doQDRE0tfmr0M6H/s640/IMG_0284.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">S is for Steal</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I picked up this vintage metal tray on a recent junk store junket. I love the colors, the pattern and the shape and with a price tag of $2...it was indeed a steal! And I was excited to have an opportunity to put it to use. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG7hnB5o6ooR9Fmsa16U6v1WloUk_s2QDnVzBw_J6a-2hmp0353lC9bIXQEH0bAx_tMZ_dNVwSkDHUu1b9HG_O8pDRgoZmFOMa3VMwItFwdiy23h25Uk8LdZtPFrq0yvHGAOiV7AxSOaT9/s1600/IMG_5747.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="438" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG7hnB5o6ooR9Fmsa16U6v1WloUk_s2QDnVzBw_J6a-2hmp0353lC9bIXQEH0bAx_tMZ_dNVwSkDHUu1b9HG_O8pDRgoZmFOMa3VMwItFwdiy23h25Uk8LdZtPFrq0yvHGAOiV7AxSOaT9/s640/IMG_5747.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And guess what? The jelly jars fit PERFECTLY on the tray: </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji6JTN4bhJItK0JBrNgRtLSI5T6j7g07DVu75bruNn0nuY-1VygifibCLMA08Ln2EX_mknx8cfp6yU8Disbx_lul23oRz2bcdf9V_HlHM1LtBnH5acYFRU48KTToh4qGxQqTUoki_Fl63U/s1600/IMG_0289.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEji6JTN4bhJItK0JBrNgRtLSI5T6j7g07DVu75bruNn0nuY-1VygifibCLMA08Ln2EX_mknx8cfp6yU8Disbx_lul23oRz2bcdf9V_HlHM1LtBnH5acYFRU48KTToh4qGxQqTUoki_Fl63U/s640/IMG_0289.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But what to serve our guests? Pink lemonade bags seemed the safest (organic, no glass and no added sugar!) as well as the most simple solution for our young guests....</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisaADkbUTKVUZ4Aufkppm1EQUj2vbmd_KsFP60acBf5aRYcI87LWkGtTST-sxcbEIS7EZkgZATzygeZfq5-GxKPmnFA6s5Vfug2cKIopA8XBI-SerG0HvnCujVMTMXDLUQpR1vPDe1clLQ/s1600/IMG_5686.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisaADkbUTKVUZ4Aufkppm1EQUj2vbmd_KsFP60acBf5aRYcI87LWkGtTST-sxcbEIS7EZkgZATzygeZfq5-GxKPmnFA6s5Vfug2cKIopA8XBI-SerG0HvnCujVMTMXDLUQpR1vPDe1clLQ/s640/IMG_5686.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">but for their parents? </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">S is for Sangria, the summer variety...</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I have never made sangria so I googled recipes and figured I could not go wrong with this <a href="http://www.marthastewart.com/317946/summer-fruit-sangria" target="_blank">Martha Stewart recipe.</a> This recipe is light and not too sweet. It calls for basil and sliced ginger which I thought sounded interesting. I made a few "secret recipe" adjustments and voila.... </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEh0XEsaFJuj3y-AIwdxHqYz3usC59QfHYRF4bh50Mcnq_8tmN8EomFXoQIw0FcRDdl7HzW-29iRyDP7d8O3cOZ0aXHqyk7pMrNnXiLMlcR-WaDwGe5ZvhPJe26OZlIs8G7e9P_W_4B2VE/s1600/IMG_0286.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEh0XEsaFJuj3y-AIwdxHqYz3usC59QfHYRF4bh50Mcnq_8tmN8EomFXoQIw0FcRDdl7HzW-29iRyDP7d8O3cOZ0aXHqyk7pMrNnXiLMlcR-WaDwGe5ZvhPJe26OZlIs8G7e9P_W_4B2VE/s640/IMG_0286.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I let it sit overnight and crossed my fingers! </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">After the morning thunderstorms rolled on past, we tidied up the garden just a bit, set out our simple spread and soon, neighbors came strolling down the street. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5LI4g01C1BdwHvmXYcoKtGp-bB7ggypummS8AKIIDMo1sghN99Ntz7Tusmr6UFmu6ZXXpeTNY3_fKb3qjwb1LojkRw6N0-xqWTl9Nu5gIkfd9z4m8K6rUnYHX5JnRsOS_xIByB2g1JDB7/s1600/IMG_5684.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5LI4g01C1BdwHvmXYcoKtGp-bB7ggypummS8AKIIDMo1sghN99Ntz7Tusmr6UFmu6ZXXpeTNY3_fKb3qjwb1LojkRw6N0-xqWTl9Nu5gIkfd9z4m8K6rUnYHX5JnRsOS_xIByB2g1JDB7/s640/IMG_5684.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">S is for <a href="http://traderjoes.com/fearless-flyer/article.asp?article_id=496" target="_blank">Sesame Honey Almonds from Trader Joe's.</a> </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Everyone loves them and they were a nice nibble with the sangria. The green bowl is a piece of <a href="https://www.google.com/search?q=vintage+refrigerator+dishes&client=firefox-a&hs=Pw&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ei=vhu7UeOOGePbyAGNroGoAg&ved=0CGYQsAQ&biw=1920&bih=872" target="_blank">50's refrigerator glass</a> that belonged to Michael's grandmother.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9UvCc62VFO-c-3elqUxvWQyv6U9SxUOWKmKKwuNVAwWFKOPpQxnSeVCAfIfaDuRdGcncDJjRfd5tAapyTmxsV9J8DLyw0Sr-dpFakDkOLxkAqk1iCVkS69YVpV6NBwD9hAGVAiu3dA81A/s1600/IMG_5687.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9UvCc62VFO-c-3elqUxvWQyv6U9SxUOWKmKKwuNVAwWFKOPpQxnSeVCAfIfaDuRdGcncDJjRfd5tAapyTmxsV9J8DLyw0Sr-dpFakDkOLxkAqk1iCVkS69YVpV6NBwD9hAGVAiu3dA81A/s640/IMG_5687.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">S is for Spiritual practice opportunities! </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Just before our guests arrived, I noticed that Atticus the cat had jumped on top of the cake box! Tinker Belle had nearly disappeared in devil's food cake and the garden of yellow icing flowers was now stuck to the top of the box. Michael volunteered to run it back to the bakery, hopeful they could "fix it" but in the end, we kept it simple....I smeared around what icing was left and let it go. Sweet Michael said, "Good job, honey! You made it look like clouds." </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I vented on FaceBook...my status read: </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span class="userContent" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}">"My &*^#$%$ cat just jumped on top of Caroline's cake...Tinker Belle is toast!</span>" And then there was some mention of my sampling the sangria immediately. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I am glad I vented as one friend reminded me that it's our mishaps that most often lodge in our memories. For years to come, we remember them and laugh. This is so true! I am sure that we will always remember this as the year the cat jumped on top of the cake. The realization made me (almost) glad it happened! </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Another friend made me giggle when she commented, <span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]">"In
my world there is almost nothing more holy than a spiritual director
who says "&*^#$%$ cat" publicly. Except maybe one who heads for
sangria next. You're in the spiritual big leagues now, my friend. Watch
out world!"</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]">I am so thankful for those who accept and affirm me, exactly as I am! What a gift. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"> </span></span></span></span></span></span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]">S is for Sweet Voices and Sweet Smiling, Sticky Faces...</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]">c was excited when it was time for singing...she didn't mind that the breeze put out the candles before she could blow them out and she sure didn't mind the smooshed bits. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoyVBRkN-OdBkjD-w5e54Hw9q9hyjYMJ5sRPXYcEjfd6M4p91FEHr14OkQtee9l0YSN9Bk8yDM8s10WD1lQhxDSZysI8ZiBcc88w_KFFeZn0hVcy83imXfBfwFqIiB1ImOIIbF4wwabyhy/s1600/IMG_5707.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoyVBRkN-OdBkjD-w5e54Hw9q9hyjYMJ5sRPXYcEjfd6M4p91FEHr14OkQtee9l0YSN9Bk8yDM8s10WD1lQhxDSZysI8ZiBcc88w_KFFeZn0hVcy83imXfBfwFqIiB1ImOIIbF4wwabyhy/s640/IMG_5707.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span>
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]">S is for Summer Birthdays and Sweet Daughters turning eight! </span></span></span></span></span></span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"></span></span></span></span></span></span><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]">Namaste, </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span>
<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Lisa </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5960846].[0][1][1]{comment10201001282221911_5850651}.[0].[0:1].[0].[0:1].[0].[0:0].[0][2].[0].[0:0]"> </span></span></span> </span></span></span><br />
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<br />Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-73733914811080405462013-06-17T04:01:00.000-07:002016-02-28T11:03:06.341-08:00in clover: welcoming new life<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJwB22b-QuzYkOsXsNPKRveXYXZLWxU3qczKHcdaUL548bnNrOQAspJBWqjnNUg0gB8RlWDbZfPBEMXaaqIdy6LT0DDFO_EFxVgCJjk8cQ6raQwLm3pNkvBBf07gEl_gdFrt5Ltj_gtSO6/s1600/IMG_5200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJwB22b-QuzYkOsXsNPKRveXYXZLWxU3qczKHcdaUL548bnNrOQAspJBWqjnNUg0gB8RlWDbZfPBEMXaaqIdy6LT0DDFO_EFxVgCJjk8cQ6raQwLm3pNkvBBf07gEl_gdFrt5Ltj_gtSO6/s640/IMG_5200.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Recently I had the honor of co-hosting a baby shower for a dear friend. Little c was over the top...she loves a party, especially when it involves lots of pink. She was a great help and inspiration and we enjoyed each others company in our preparations. (Well, most of the time anyway!) </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We made our first batch of cake pops together....</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpJeHZoqH1jea8y6esomxJKhjAZ3YM6fQ5h4JngPzo4i09aQHPATVPi_m0cGpF3o82D3tZKV_Kk1US5Q9nyd0w0v6sHWxm3DHUqHwOsVlYAaBsEYMi6wLZ6JhLih0Una3FOpqochIsPriW/s1600/IMG_2937.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpJeHZoqH1jea8y6esomxJKhjAZ3YM6fQ5h4JngPzo4i09aQHPATVPi_m0cGpF3o82D3tZKV_Kk1US5Q9nyd0w0v6sHWxm3DHUqHwOsVlYAaBsEYMi6wLZ6JhLih0Una3FOpqochIsPriW/s640/IMG_2937.JPG" width="640" /></a> </div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We displayed them in a pair of vintage English urns that I borrowed from my shop inventory. </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtOdX-xW1JiQfx9ktt-jg4oTS55gJbLfyYIoxbnX0wwpZMIIIR2HNTS4fe1ESHkkg5f06N604WOxHGrF8TtzASiI2_H1geYChh4yCTuJkzd3koHA6I-uY2Yd_4ZlfiQiSKWsu_reSg2TnE/s1600/IMG_5151.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtOdX-xW1JiQfx9ktt-jg4oTS55gJbLfyYIoxbnX0wwpZMIIIR2HNTS4fe1ESHkkg5f06N604WOxHGrF8TtzASiI2_H1geYChh4yCTuJkzd3koHA6I-uY2Yd_4ZlfiQiSKWsu_reSg2TnE/s640/IMG_5151.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We made a banner and a big tissue paper flower to decorate our fireplace.....</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYroeOtzA6mrb4bJnVc6Gn26aSM0CWuziAC-e5uUKeAhvE5r_S0va0D2pt4qGoREx6ya6OhB97g0O6c2mX-RAVedyeO2g2f6KAeRB7wrKe0zadWnn5AH5VpU8vv7HfmTmTcPVGKqqpi4Ep/s1600/IMG_5129.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYroeOtzA6mrb4bJnVc6Gn26aSM0CWuziAC-e5uUKeAhvE5r_S0va0D2pt4qGoREx6ya6OhB97g0O6c2mX-RAVedyeO2g2f6KAeRB7wrKe0zadWnn5AH5VpU8vv7HfmTmTcPVGKqqpi4Ep/s640/IMG_5129.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We made heart shaped cucumber, basil and cream cheese tea sandwiches and decorated them with a tiny bit of impatien blossom. (Yes, impatiens, like pansies, are edible!) </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfPshJylIBfBwihUqLssmce-8h1T_mvV3aR5KE2xJRIpMmiMv8BhwfoXBW-ummSOE9mmV5hEVR86-fqV_NTlbF3n-KHK2XYWPzda1WQWDLfQMP0o0IOK_p1cXEdiXWEkLGPzUcYxFffBlC/s1600/IMG_5150.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="456" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfPshJylIBfBwihUqLssmce-8h1T_mvV3aR5KE2xJRIpMmiMv8BhwfoXBW-ummSOE9mmV5hEVR86-fqV_NTlbF3n-KHK2XYWPzda1WQWDLfQMP0o0IOK_p1cXEdiXWEkLGPzUcYxFffBlC/s640/IMG_5150.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And we made tiny little heart shaped pimento cheese bites...</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWLwdWk_01p3aqI7OysDCD7WvKukzxAeNQxxx9oo1P6mtuY3xmny1fURFvRYCdJjpYr_kbe4R6OsCEAmiMaWmizWgTcaxL7Jxn5D2SaygJHzcmtBApoihlthznRrnF-J8D4rtvaO7giAIz/s1600/IMG_5155.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWLwdWk_01p3aqI7OysDCD7WvKukzxAeNQxxx9oo1P6mtuY3xmny1fURFvRYCdJjpYr_kbe4R6OsCEAmiMaWmizWgTcaxL7Jxn5D2SaygJHzcmtBApoihlthznRrnF-J8D4rtvaO7giAIz/s640/IMG_5155.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We even made our gift....</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCucs__6U5Lpo4IzPDmaxg1JMxuxBlMNfjIE00YsvRCkVylSN8a3wvtr68pgLX1CmOi3dbad8rFKWIxgUHpeggqpmsPVs4wufSatcSLA0yvhJR8gAvKZXOjzCaXlm_F3lwROMS_Vl4HKXF/s1600/IMG_5117.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCucs__6U5Lpo4IzPDmaxg1JMxuxBlMNfjIE00YsvRCkVylSN8a3wvtr68pgLX1CmOi3dbad8rFKWIxgUHpeggqpmsPVs4wufSatcSLA0yvhJR8gAvKZXOjzCaXlm_F3lwROMS_Vl4HKXF/s640/IMG_5117.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I have made several hats and one pair of the knitted Mary Jane shoes before but this was my first ever sweater. I found the <a href="http://bellabambinaknits.blogspot.com/2008/03/cardigan-for-babies.html" target="_blank">free crochet pattern on line</a> and I added some details of my own. Our guest of honor received several beautiful handmade gifts and I could tell, she really appreciated them. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Other friends planned the games and contributed homemade cupcakes and layer cakes, yummy cookies and beautiful fresh fruit and veg. I noticed that sharing the responsibilities increased my joy...and not just because I had less work to do but because it was more fun to plot and plan together. Often I find that my own creativity is unleashed when I am around other creative folks. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">c and I had a wonderful time decorating the house and fixing the food but the most fun of all was filling the party favor bags. Our idea for the favors took some time to gel but eventually, inspired by a big bag of colorful beads we found in our basement craft area, we came up with these:</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5BQgyQ9pkYHokLFgeJTin5V8LDAxFoeNkWMrmfICeXf3d9zjzgJjdCmCbAX6gnM9_uMc5wus7Oc36eqzXtSNnRzIp3nDuo7qSNHRt71pBePFXHSlM6F16ai2Rj5KC9yoQ6_miqG_JBgyN/s1600/IMG_5132.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5BQgyQ9pkYHokLFgeJTin5V8LDAxFoeNkWMrmfICeXf3d9zjzgJjdCmCbAX6gnM9_uMc5wus7Oc36eqzXtSNnRzIp3nDuo7qSNHRt71pBePFXHSlM6F16ai2Rj5KC9yoQ6_miqG_JBgyN/s640/IMG_5132.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Each bag contains a white votive candle and a prayer litany rolled into a scroll, secured by a simple prayer bracelet. My friend Greta introduced me to the idea of giving white candles at baby showers...to be lit during the birth. I love this idea! The bag of beads we found was left over from a Prayer Bead Meditation I led for a group of women a few years ago and so we thought, why not also give our guests a prayer bracelet? </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I spent some time researching prayers for labor and birth but in the end I wrote my own. I asked our guest of honor for permission to share it here. She graciously agreed. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Actually, this is what she said which I thought was sweet and funny: </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> "<i>Feel free to use our names! And don't forget to mention that one of the prizes for the shower games was a dozen fresh eggs. That was so incredibly cool and I think the world should know." </i></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We did offer one dozen of our eggs as a game prize and my hens would be proud to know that their eggs were immediately snatched up. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Feel free to use the litany yourself, I only ask that if you add it to your own blog or print it on paper, please attribute authorship to me and provide my blog address, www.readinclover.com. I thank you and your karma will too. :)</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Namaste, </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Lisa </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #38761d;">A Prayer Bead Litany for the birth of Liv and Elijah's daughter....<br /><br />Bead One: <br /><br />Creator God, <br /><br />We ask your blessing on Liv, a new mother, as she enters into this unknown and sacred experience of childbirth. Connect her with the ancient knowledge of her sisters who have come before her. Help her to embrace her strength. Help her to embrace her power. Help her to surrender to her bodies own Wisdom. Fill her heart with joy at the anticipation of this most divine labor, now beginning to unfold for her. <br /><br />Isaiah 41:10 <br />"Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, Yes, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous hand." <br /><br />Bead Two:<br /><br />We ask your blessing on Elijah, a new father, as he emotionally and spiritually labors with Liv and lovingly supports her in her physical labor. Fill Elijah with stamina and a peace filled divine energy that he might share his strength with and bring Your Presence to Liv. Connect Elijah to the wisdom of all his brothers who have come before him. Allow him to share deeply with Liv this most sacred experience of labor and childbirth, now beginning to unfold for him. <br /><br />Psalm 29:11<br />"The Lord gives strength to his people, the Lord blesses his people with peace." <br /><br />Bead Three: <br /><br />We ask your blessing on this child, a new daughter. Divinely guide her transition from the womb of her mother into the tender and welcoming embrace of her mother, her father and all the others waiting for her. Throughout her unique birth experience, cradle her in surrender and beauty. Allow your Peace to surround her, as she moves from the warmth, support and darkness of the womb towards the Light of your Creation, bringing your Light into the world by her very Presence. <br /><br />Jeremiah 29:11<br />"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." <br /><br />Bead Four: <br /><br />We ask your blessing on the medical professionals and caregivers charged with tending Liv and Elijah and their daughter. Help them remember the sacredness of this experience. Help them to remember the uniqueness of each birth. Give each of them the heart of a midwife, mindful of the body, mindful of the spirit, and most mindful that they are witnessing a miracle. Bless their minds, hands, and spirits well as they expertly care for this family, so beloved to us. <br /><br />Psalm 118:23<br />"This is the Lord's doing, and it is wonderful to see!" <br /><br />Bead Five: <br /><br />We ask your blessing on each of us, the family and friends of Liv and Elijah. Help us support them in labor and childbirth through our prayer and meditations. We pray with great joy and anticipation and thanksgiving for the soon to be new life in our midst. We pray for Liv as laborer, in this ancient and sacred rite. We pray Elijah as supporter and advocate. We pray for the doctors, nurses and midwives in their call to the medical profession and as witnesses to the miracle of birth. Lord, hear our prayer. <br /><br />Numbers 6:24-26:<br /><br />The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make His face to shine upon you, and be gracious unto you; the Lord lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace." <br /><br /><br />Bead Six: <br /><br />We give thanks for the miracle of birth, the Holy Cycle of Life and for the divinity and humanity of your Living Creation. <br /><br />Ephesians 3:20:<br />"Now all glory to God, who is able, through God's mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think." <br /><br />Bead Seven: <br /><br />We bless this birth! </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #38761d;">(Here I actually included a birth blessing written by someone else but I do not have permission, yet, to include that.) </span></span><br />
<br />Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-28873180362112094242013-06-10T04:07:00.001-07:002016-02-28T11:03:16.582-08:00in clover: self portrait<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv0bOIxRiw-6CL8Is2ahziEOQmNlkGniSHRJdSgqPeM74jPzaEQBWJZsZb16kX1YI44uxPbW_H6KNulloaOlPFOo7tnyP-Z1GpDWKBFlNDMFWcuqi0GOQJQRt-rQeTemzQVV_wusxj582x/s1600/IMG_0262.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgv0bOIxRiw-6CL8Is2ahziEOQmNlkGniSHRJdSgqPeM74jPzaEQBWJZsZb16kX1YI44uxPbW_H6KNulloaOlPFOo7tnyP-Z1GpDWKBFlNDMFWcuqi0GOQJQRt-rQeTemzQVV_wusxj582x/s640/IMG_0262.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">early morning solitude. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">no talking, </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">in the garden.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">just </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">coffee, </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">a journal, </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">and </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">zinnia pajamas</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">(and a camera). </span></span><br />
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<br />Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-56605442821175143242013-06-03T03:58:00.001-07:002016-02-28T11:03:39.693-08:00in clover: watching for fairies <span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Last summer, on a whim, I put together a small fairy garden. I used an old english stone trough, pilfered from my antique shop, as the base. The fantasy garden was ostensibly for Little c. She was delighted by it and spent quite a bit of time near it, just looking. And I will admit, I was so taken by my creation (and keeping it tidy...keeping it "right") that I quietly discouraged "playing" with it. I am not very proud of that but that is the truth. This photo is of the fairy garden, last spring. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2SuhLsiUxs-eL0w7e2oHJIqpay3Ypp1OlL5DsnJHaupe-nbBJITJfTjG0xubCcSvRdtNpYF_5EqhIaEPHe9hwpox-x9Cy5qru7Jpt-KDsquFDK4V35EO8evZzPiItQiM0JNu66ORQpKqa/s1600/IMG_1594.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2SuhLsiUxs-eL0w7e2oHJIqpay3Ypp1OlL5DsnJHaupe-nbBJITJfTjG0xubCcSvRdtNpYF_5EqhIaEPHe9hwpox-x9Cy5qru7Jpt-KDsquFDK4V35EO8evZzPiItQiM0JNu66ORQpKqa/s640/IMG_1594.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As the seasons changed, I neglected to winterize the little garden. It survived, mostly intact, and I intended to put it all back to rights at the first sign of spring...that is, as soon as I had time. c asked me about it several times but I had no time. I made lots of promises to get the garden tip top and fairy ready asap, but "not today." </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Then one evening, I wandered outside with a glass of wine. My intention is always the same....to sit and enjoy. I have attempted to design our humble garden for this very purpose...there are comfortable chairs scattered about with tables nearby for a book or a mug of coffee, umbrellas for shade and flowers for enjoyment. As winter becomes spring and I long for the garden, what I envision is always the same....me, settling in with a hot mug of coffee early in the morning, or with a cool glass of wine as the sun sets, simply enjoying it all. There is no busy-ness in my vision (and no bugs, either.) </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But truthfully, my sitting usually lasts less than five minutes. Inevitably, I scan the garden and, rather than seeing all that there is to enjoy, I begin to notice all the things that need doing and fixing...there are weeds to pull, shrubs to trim, pots to water, flowers to dehead and the list goes on. And, usually within a very few minutes, I am up and moving....my uncle calls it my "Granny gene." He says I come by it honestly. I think, like all things, there is both a blessing and a curse in my granny gene. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">This particular evening, after only a sip or two of wine, my gaze landed on the fairy garden and waves of guilt immediately washed over me....I should have made it more of a priority to "fix" the tiny vignette, as I had promised c. And then I noticed something....the fairy garden was decidedly more pink and green than I remembered. Upon closer inspection, this is what I found: </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfJnx9u2adWbHHsQb3F6MTEcNrCfnKqZ4XFfqwGhwgO7tfS4FLPV9PTa_exsIFldVdFfpCrM7oFzklNmrA3UEVbc-QSnreDrxlwDk0OMiqJt1qFTenJGbkuYSlbe76T4U3uD0lLTSFaom5/s1600/IMG_2906.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfJnx9u2adWbHHsQb3F6MTEcNrCfnKqZ4XFfqwGhwgO7tfS4FLPV9PTa_exsIFldVdFfpCrM7oFzklNmrA3UEVbc-QSnreDrxlwDk0OMiqJt1qFTenJGbkuYSlbe76T4U3uD0lLTSFaom5/s640/IMG_2906.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">c had transformed the fairy garden with leaves and small bits of evergreen, azalea blossoms and even one purple flower she gathered from a clump of chives. I remembered how amazed she was last summer, when I revealed the fairy garden surprise. Now it was my turn to be surprised and enchanted! </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I was most taken with the fairy sized "umbrellas" she had created by perching upside down azalea blossoms on small twigs, strategically anchored in the rock hard ground. I am sure this took a lot of effort on her part. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDVEuYsqAR7Kl515nzUV6sJBRooASEmRJUSr_R50PnhA_l2N8IcKW0uQwonJO640v2-7PhfCtJyuOe1Uko5eKWvBN-NRVUQrRxd53v0aKN76sOgpH8d9OGJjgBOhVvwc22ZT4PDJJYruIs/s1600/IMG_2908.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDVEuYsqAR7Kl515nzUV6sJBRooASEmRJUSr_R50PnhA_l2N8IcKW0uQwonJO640v2-7PhfCtJyuOe1Uko5eKWvBN-NRVUQrRxd53v0aKN76sOgpH8d9OGJjgBOhVvwc22ZT4PDJJYruIs/s640/IMG_2908.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Honestly, what fairy could resist such a sweet resting spot? </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">It only took a few moments for my delight to give way to dismay. I felt very guilty that c had felt she must take it upon herself to rescue the garden. After all, she will only be a little girl for a short time... who knows how long this time will last....will this spring be the last when a few bits of broken brick and pottery shards evoke such delight in her? </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But, as I sat with all those "bad mommy" thoughts and allowed the guilt to simply pass through me, eventually I had a different thought. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">What if there is more to this story than simply the guilt and remorse of a harried mother, neglecting to fulfill a promise? If I've learned anything from the practice of spiritual direction, I've learned that there is always something more.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Could there also have been a gift to c in this? </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">She loves to express her creativity...she writes and draws and decorates and invents games and makes up funny songs and loves to take photographs and I do my best to encourage all of that....but I must admit, I tend to hold on to some things....like home decor and garden design! In those matters, we often butt heads. I am sure, had I made the time to "fix" the fairy garden, I would have taken charge and perhaps (more than likely) even rejected c's ideas. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As completely unconscious as my stepping back was, still...space was created for little c to act on her own creative impulses. She was so proud and I was truly delighted by what she designed. And in the end, with my need for correctness out of the way, the fairy garden became something far more meaningful than looking picture perfect...far, far more sacred! The garden is still a lovely place for fairies but, more importantly, it is a place for a little girl to express herself.... a canvas that invites, encourages, and nurtures imagination and creativity. A place that invites an encounter with the Divine through creative expression. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Last year, c spent hours sitting and watching the garden...certain that if she waited long enough a fairy would appear: </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMSrPGo-CqCpiCKAQwLkEUzQDyny2O9lqzBGj0JpmK3_DgwwYTreiPzlqyRy69-E3Qa_TLRqgi35_b8BDSR8XVS3HBQJssH5WHTJZ-uHhw0w5VktpTgdytVI1ffMoLbmXvxeHvYCl7c0bi/s1600/IMG_1611.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMSrPGo-CqCpiCKAQwLkEUzQDyny2O9lqzBGj0JpmK3_DgwwYTreiPzlqyRy69-E3Qa_TLRqgi35_b8BDSR8XVS3HBQJssH5WHTJZ-uHhw0w5VktpTgdytVI1ffMoLbmXvxeHvYCl7c0bi/s640/IMG_1611.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Now, I am the one who sits and watches the fairy garden...hoping to catch a glimpse of gossamer wings or a sprinkling of glittering dust in this place, now of our shared creation...feeling connected TO my daughter...feeling connected to God THROUGH my daughter. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvwPhELXwyB66BenYz7i9PW0X81uby5eazMeRSItyegt3sSAbpFxpbw_89YDujjaENg6xkUCeHB8qU9T8L4on7xAUNmpb74v7Y9OEGoHtsrQw3x5KVZC1n6Zn105pe63KDQ1aoq3od5qAw/s1600/IMG_2905.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvwPhELXwyB66BenYz7i9PW0X81uby5eazMeRSItyegt3sSAbpFxpbw_89YDujjaENg6xkUCeHB8qU9T8L4on7xAUNmpb74v7Y9OEGoHtsrQw3x5KVZC1n6Zn105pe63KDQ1aoq3od5qAw/s640/IMG_2905.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I do not mean that my distracted behavior toward my daughter is excused and I certainly don't mean that it was "God's plan"...there are lessons for me here about distraction and priorities and, at least for a few days, I know I will be more present to her. But there is always more. The story is never only about our failures. That is what the practice of spiritual direction is about. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The Sacred is moving in EVERY moment of our lives, not just the ones that make us feel good or proud of ourselves. God is just as evident in our parenting failures as She is in our successes. Many, like <a href="https://cac.org/">Father Richard Rohr</a>, believe there is more spiritual growth potential in failure than in success. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Working
with a spiritual director can help you notice and savor the Sacred in all areas
of your life. My guess is that many of you have never heard of spiritual direction and it might even sound a bit odd to you. It sure did to me! The first time someone, a minister, said to me, "Why don't you investigate spiritual direction?" my immediate response was, "Spiritual direction? What the hell is that??" </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">If you want to know more about what spiritual direction is or perhaps even more importantly, what it is not, send me a note. I will be glad to share information with you. If you are interested in engaging in this ancient
practice, get in touch with me. If I cannot work with you, I will happily help
you find a trained and appropriate director. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">God is present in it all and God is longing to be known THROUGH it all....precious little girls and fairy dust and broken promises, azalea blossoms and twigs and rock hard soil...in granny genes, for better or worse....in stillness and busyness, in love and in imperfect parenting. There is sacredness in and of it all. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Namaste, </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Lisa </span></span><br />
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<br />Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-12765221817699649882013-05-28T04:39:00.000-07:002016-02-28T11:04:03.972-08:00in clover: be like clover<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFMOE_XfjDh8JMYdYpwT_zQ3ZbcNiuqIzNBKhHA0bFHiW5UQ6Ihouob3Uuj2XjGdbmnakqg1g_Bl1QmNtrxe81oVhxmnqhDz5SM1cJd2JWRqNWvhAxMMpGiDGkmeqbZ7cYQqEeiyVAzAD2/s1600/IMG_2904.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFMOE_XfjDh8JMYdYpwT_zQ3ZbcNiuqIzNBKhHA0bFHiW5UQ6Ihouob3Uuj2XjGdbmnakqg1g_Bl1QmNtrxe81oVhxmnqhDz5SM1cJd2JWRqNWvhAxMMpGiDGkmeqbZ7cYQqEeiyVAzAD2/s640/IMG_2904.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">There is so much going on around here...graduations, for me and many of our young friends...field trips, field day and finals...banquets and baby showers....plus upcoming camps, travel teams, missions trips, VBS and so many things to look forward to this summer (and must remember to register for!)....church things, sports things, school things, family things, friend things, work things, must do things, wish I could do things....there really is a lot going on around here! </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Some of you might remember how I came to name this blog "in clover". The story goes that the lawn in our back garden needed a bit of help (ok, a lot of help!) and while doing research, Michael and I learned about the history of lawns in the US, how the marketing of chemical fertilizer companies began to set the standard for a "good" lawn and how lawns in the US became unhealthy monocultures. So, despite the odd looks we received, we intentionally planted clover in with the grasses already growing in our back garden. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">About the same time, I was considering names for the blog I wished to create. Clover, I found out, fertilizes itself and everything else growing near it by taking nitrogen right out of the air! Yes, you heard right...clover "breathes in" fertilizer from the air and then shares it with other growing things nearby. And then, of course, there is the idiom: </span></span><br />
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<i><span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">in clover</span></span></i></div>
<div class="entry dict">
<div class="sense">
<i><span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> living a life of ease and abundance, as cattle in good pasture</span></span></i><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">or as my grandmother used to say, "a pig in mud." </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Cattle in pasture, a pig in mud, either way.... </span></span><i><span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span></span></i><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">....perfect! </span></span><i><span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span></span></i></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As a child, I have very specific memories of sitting in unending fields of clover, stringing together "daisy" chain necklaces and bracelets and spending hours searching for four leaf clovers. I never found one! Never! I will confess that once Michael and I had a decent crop of clover growing in the backyard, I kept my eye out....looking for the elusive four leaf clover. I do not regret the hours spent clover searching, but I never found one. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">A few nights ago, after my graduation ceremony from Sycamore Spirituality Center, Michael and I were enjoying a glass of wine out back. We have had an extremely wet spring this year and we had been unable to mow and the clover had grown quite tall. As we were walking back toward the house, I happened to look down, just a glance really, and I saw....not one.....not two.....not three.....not four.....but FIVE four leafed clovers. FIVE. All in about fifteen seconds. I intentionally did not pick them but left them growing there, in my garden. But I did take a few photos with my phone. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I don't know what it means, but surely, it must be some kind of sign! </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">One....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Two and three: </span> </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQIRwqbIg48RlDzfS0k9RpAXJ7q7Q_nhCDI-Kk7DSOg_R-Tm-QJ0_QWn17S8L-yGSPzVsincQW6fw3att5WRdVndIBZV2ACJHo7yp3Pe5t9vb6haBo7idF6ksLU6o34eqq4v2uXP0a4LLh/s1600/IMG_2898.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQIRwqbIg48RlDzfS0k9RpAXJ7q7Q_nhCDI-Kk7DSOg_R-Tm-QJ0_QWn17S8L-yGSPzVsincQW6fw3att5WRdVndIBZV2ACJHo7yp3Pe5t9vb6haBo7idF6ksLU6o34eqq4v2uXP0a4LLh/s640/IMG_2898.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Four and five: </span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Amazing! </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">With so many different things going on, all at the same time, I have set my intention and
tried my best to be like clover...breathing in stillness and sharing it
with others. I am not very good at this but I can honestly say I have
tried. </span></span> </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">This summer, I'm going to try to be like clover, ya'll. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Namaste, </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Lisa </span></span>Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-5610579753735573042012-11-12T06:03:00.000-08:002016-02-28T11:04:22.056-08:00in clover: remembering Patsy<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Last night, when Michael went out just after dark to shut the chicken coop, he found our Dominique hen, Patsy, dead in the nesting box. We have no idea what happened. Earlier in the day she seemed fine. Michael and I worked in the garden in the afternoon and she was out and about as usual. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Needless to say, we were all quite sad last night. Circle of life and all....we get it...but this is our first experience of losing a chicken friend.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Dominiques are quite striking in appearance....their feathers are black and white and are irregularly striped or "barred." They have a red comb. They are calm and personable. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">This is my favorite photo of Patsy, the Dominique hen. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFbahjreR_AjnPJyO2v_rvPcOeVJIouc2BRvNlL9cME6yWnt5o6p8MX25zqYPyk1sf5vru6OrceQHRKFZnrWpZTW1bfoVAf9A4UGh6Un87_-ldSxoDuc_OSrt34lPzjkbCV8QGX0M_77eR/s1600/IMG_1263.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="522" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFbahjreR_AjnPJyO2v_rvPcOeVJIouc2BRvNlL9cME6yWnt5o6p8MX25zqYPyk1sf5vru6OrceQHRKFZnrWpZTW1bfoVAf9A4UGh6Un87_-ldSxoDuc_OSrt34lPzjkbCV8QGX0M_77eR/s640/IMG_1263.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Our Patsy was a good layer and we easily recognized her egg. She laid the smallest egg of the bunch and hers were the nearest to pink in color. When she began laying, I was quite concerned for her because the shells of her eggs were thinner and more brittle than the others and they were rough in texture, like sandpaper. But, time went by and she seemed healthy and happy, so I quit worrying, mostly. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We weren't really sure what to expect when we began our chicken keeping experience. The work has been minimal, thanks to the deep litter method of hen house keeping. (Here's <a href="http://www.suburbanhobbyfarmer.com/chicken-coop/">a link to a short, informative article on the deep litter method</a>.) I had no idea the chickens would be so entertaining or how much I would enjoy hearing them cluck to one another. I had no idea the sense of life and energy they would bring to my garden. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But what I was most completely unprepared for was the level of responsibility I feel for their well being. It has at times made me quite anxious. I've sat with this, asking myself why I feel more anxiety and fear for my hens than I do for my dog and my cats. I think it's because hens are so completely vulnerable. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Chickens have many predators to worry about.....racoons, foxes, hawks, dogs....and bless their hearts, they have no claws or teeth to use to defend themselves. They can barely fly and while they are quite speedy when you are trying to catch them, they aren't speedy like a cat or a rabbit. They can't see well in the dark so a night attack could result in the demise of an entire hen house! More than once I have woken in the night, sat straight up in bed and shrieked loudly, worried that we forgot to secure the coop. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I am grateful that by all appearances, Patsy died peacefully. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Patsy may or may not be in these photos taken when we went to visit our friend's chicks....we received six chickens from this group of chicks. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">A very young Patsy....trying out the roosting bar in her new home: </span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> With a young friend, who charmed Patsy by feeding her blueberries....</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgrtZQpbOyPBPGUmqGp_HHuApvcn_9WhH1t_QMA0Su-VSkl9r-OBt7BwoD9xx-5svZfhnGhJ9EYcBXEIhF40EF86SaRDcVNVFbIXOCo7PSyRKYh34xzzNV4fdEwQ1UGDdkCgpHLbkndOgU/s1600/IMG_9850.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgrtZQpbOyPBPGUmqGp_HHuApvcn_9WhH1t_QMA0Su-VSkl9r-OBt7BwoD9xx-5svZfhnGhJ9EYcBXEIhF40EF86SaRDcVNVFbIXOCo7PSyRKYh34xzzNV4fdEwQ1UGDdkCgpHLbkndOgU/s640/IMG_9850.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And this is the last photo I took of Patsy...this summer, as she joined her friend Loretta Lynn in the hen favored left side nesting box: </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Last night, after I told little c that Patsy had died, she drew this photo and penned this little obituary. June Carter is actually c's proclaimed "favorite hen" but maybe that made c feel a little guilty for having a favorite...who knows? </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Like little c, I am glad we have "pichers of her" to help us remember our friend, the little Dominique hen, Patsy Cline. She was a good girl. We will miss her. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> peace and all good, </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Lisa </span></span><br />
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Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-31126190868243125472012-09-17T03:28:00.002-07:002016-02-28T11:04:52.847-08:00in clover: playdate<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I decided recently to have a play date with my dining room. I think of it as my "puttering meditation." It's fun to experiment with linens and dishes and glassware to create what I see other bloggers calling a "tablescape." (So many "new" words these days!) </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">If I named this tablescape, I guess I'd call it "french country meets retro american" ...that's an old French wire market basket in the center, filled as if the hostess had just returned from Market Day mixed with vintage and new Fiestaware pottery. I paired the fiesta with 1960's blue pressed glass goblets (a hand me down from my mom that she will likely now threaten to take back!) and linens with a polka dot and spiral motif. The place mats are more traditional and the napkins are a bit more modern. Sometimes the mix works and sometimes it doesn't. I try mixing things up until I like what I see. This mix is special to me...I think because my attraction to the two styles, retro american and french country both represent different periods of my life. I love this integration of the two. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I tried replacing the market basket with an old galvanized metal scoop or dipper. I also swapped the place mats and pottery out. I love how the scoop looks as a centerpiece filled with lemons! </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The scoop is listed on ebay but I kind of hope it doesn't sell. (Update: It sold!) </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpcMLvJNdEAB-Grtgme2Uq881wK3DcR3EGO_GAtYUPS5MHaYBa1RhpOptQSnUyI_6I3KyKww0Lx4uvlJhppx_1glx7IPErwpiZsInIc3rIdL7E2D304B6ohrt_bdynTBXEk7kJ5OrGjO03/s1600/IMG_0635.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpcMLvJNdEAB-Grtgme2Uq881wK3DcR3EGO_GAtYUPS5MHaYBa1RhpOptQSnUyI_6I3KyKww0Lx4uvlJhppx_1glx7IPErwpiZsInIc3rIdL7E2D304B6ohrt_bdynTBXEk7kJ5OrGjO03/s640/IMG_0635.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Next I tried a black and white theme featuring an old European enamel flour bin filled with a topiary as a centerpiece...</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Here's the flour bin filled with lemons, accompanied by Michael's grandmother's chicken salt and pepper shakers. Got them for my birthday last year! Love them. I think this tablescape needed a bit more work though...maybe a burlap feedsack runner?</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">This was a spring table I put together for Easter. I use the same things over and over...just changing a few elements...that really is necessary when you are a cottage dweller. Space is at a premium so things must be able to be used in many different ways. Sometimes my life feels the same...time is at a premium so the ways I choose to spend it really need to do double or even triple duty! </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I did not expect those napkins to go with the paisley place mats but when I tried them together, I liked the combo. Sometimes my life is like this...I don't expect elements to go together but unexpectedly, they do! When I am playing with my creativity, it is helpful to have "beginner's mind" instead of "expert mind." I never know if something will work until I try. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I've read that if you desire to foster creative impulses, it is important to allow yourself time to play. Often, when we attempt to be creative, we put a tremendous amount of pressure on ourselves because we are focused on the outcome. It is important, if your goal is to foster creativity, to allow yourself "play time" with no attachment to outcome...like a child. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">When is the last time you had a play date with yourself? You might consider treating yourself to a trip to your junk store or art supply store soon....or just stay home and play with the toys you already have. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">All work and no play.... </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">You might be surprised how restorative a play date with yourself can be. I always am. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">peace and all good, </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Lisa </span></span><br />
<br />Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-53757643834405829382012-09-11T04:24:00.002-07:002016-02-28T11:05:14.541-08:00in clover: paint by number<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">With my vision impaired, I have not been getting out of the house much at all. I was getting a little stir crazy so I emailed a friend and suggested a "lunch and junk" outing. She took me up on my offer which was nice because she had to do all the work! She's such a good sport. Once, she rode in my van with her head stuck through a hole in an old screen door I bought for $1. That was the only way we could get home. That's a good, good friend! </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We had so much fun! Driving around the countryside of Central Ky on a pretty day was a pleasure indeed and when we landed at a genuine estate sale, I was delighted to find a few things I just could not live without. Here's a photo of my haul, right after we unloaded her truck: </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I was particularly captivated by this pair of 1960's paint by number paintings in faux bamboo frames. I debated and debated...are they cool? or tacky? cool? tacky? I really don't care for parrots...I don't think....but I LOVED the colors and really liked the bamboo and exotic flowers. And whoever painted these, from a dime store kit, did a really great job! </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">When I bought the three dozen or so canning jars, the nice man threw in the unusual square galvanized tub. These jars give me a good start on next year's pickles and jam. </span></span><br />
<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">My friend spotted the vintage Minolta camera and steered me towards it. I have a thing for vintage cameras and telephones. I find them irresistible. Maybe because they both facilitate communication? Maybe I wanted the camera because it looked like the one I coveted for years...the one my dad toted over his shoulder in the seventies...not sure...I imagine that's a question I could tackle in my journal soon! </span></span>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">I am very glad I decided not to pass on these two funny little chicken pillows (on the right) for the breakfast nook. They seemed like the perfect companions for the yellow hooked pillow I bought from Garnet Hill last year: </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">So enthralled was I by my retro paint by numbers art, that I set out to find a spot for those parrots right away. They looked great against the yellow walls of our living room so I decided to try a swap. Over our sofa, we have a large French iron mirror flanked by vintage French sconces and two Victorian era iron heating grate covers: </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">Love these iron grates but they do lack color....</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPi9h5Ik70WNrpcxjQPSKI9WwpUzkTd2aCeRqx-yEoAgKG1w9dU4HVHvrsMNhQTU1rMLJu-lGXoU_Jb_saxoxd-ihGcZNlgvdJu6DETW67Z58RzEe6mH2X94WGH38dnb1_rAWu-e1-y2Wa/s1600/IMG_0578.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPi9h5Ik70WNrpcxjQPSKI9WwpUzkTd2aCeRqx-yEoAgKG1w9dU4HVHvrsMNhQTU1rMLJu-lGXoU_Jb_saxoxd-ihGcZNlgvdJu6DETW67Z58RzEe6mH2X94WGH38dnb1_rAWu-e1-y2Wa/s640/IMG_0578.jpg" width="390" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;"> I decided the parrots deserved a chance.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">Yep, that'll work! The parrots bring new energy to the space and I smile every time I see them. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">It's fun to have a little make-over, estate sale style! Plus, I got to hang out with my friend. All that's left is to find a place for those white iron grates. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">In spiritual direction, we are taught to pay attention. We are taught to continually ask ourselves what feels life-giving...and what feels life-taking. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">As I type, I find myself wondering if it's wise to post these photos...you might snicker at my idea of "art"...or you might think that my time could have been used more productively...that I could have been doing something more important or "real." </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">Maybe. It might be silly...inconsequential...genuinely a waste of time. It may not be productive or bring kudos...but looking for treasure among junk and puttering about my house fills me with a sense of life. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">If Spirit whispers to me....make your home with </span></span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">cast off 1960's dime store art, a 50 cent pair of imperfectly sewn calico chickens and a junky old galvanized washtub...who am I to argue? </span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;"><br /></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">Resisting the movement of Spirit never seems to have gotten me anywhere, except stuck. That doesn't mean that following what is life-giving is always easy...sometimes it can feel darned uncomfortable. (Think "spiritual director" rather than "ordained minister.") It can feel vulnerable. </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">But, in the end, choosing to go with the flow has always been the best choice. Especially when you can go along with a friend who'll stick her head through an old screen door, just to keep you company. </span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">peace and all good, </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">Lisa </span></span><br />
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<br />Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5421968273515941780.post-72147200849506570302012-09-06T05:45:00.004-07:002016-02-28T11:05:23.181-08:00in clover: re-vision<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I can't see. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">I have contracted a stubborn virus that has temporarily injured my eyes and significantly impaired my vision. I cannot wear the contact lenses that I have worn nearly every day of my life since ninth grade. My distance vision with glasses is ok but not great...kind of like opening your eyes under water...but I can't see a thing up close with my glasses on, so to read or use the computer I must remove the , which means everything else is a blur. Needless to say, the idea of vision has been the focus of my contemplative life lately. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Many of the old things I sell are at their "vintage chic-est" when re-purposed for something other than their intended use....a cast iron gutter hopper as a wall sconce....a rusty wire basket as a moss lined planter....an enamel farm bucket as a wine bucket for a party...galvanized wash tub as raised garden bed...old iron grate as art...all re-purposed or RE-Visioned. It's fun to re-vision vintage items. LOTS of fun! </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Spending quite a few hours in the dark, reflecting, I am even more mindful that just like the old things that I always seem to find their way to me, I can re-vision the everyday happenings of my life, recognizing them as the important spiritual learnings I believe they are. I can look for the Sacred in the ordinary, moments of my life...even the uncomfortable ones. Or maybe that should be, <b>especially</b> the uncomfortable ones. I've tried to stay open to Spirit. I've asked myself what this dis-ease has to teach me? Is there something I don't want to see? Is there something I need to see? I don't have any answers yet but I will keep sitting with it. </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Meanwhile, since I haven't gone out into the light of day much at all, I've been busy re-visioning the things that have been languishing in my basement since I closed my shop. It's nice and dark in the basement! :)</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">One of the items I listed on ebay this week is a vintage french fishing creel. I wanted to include some inspiring photos in my listing so I tried to come up with creative ways to use the creel. First, I photographed it in the garden....</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgig2De62Uc40vhoDLnbeZpo4mDuCQKGe7Vuln6AfMPtChdWxngyoaoGcn0YXQmmqF9jyyJRGFmfi_IMtP1lZtaVnbVZM2gZ1Fyg0oTs7FiGTEuiDOmUAWom8x_KAQQhpMnn-M6E3UOcZDc/s1600/IMG_0455.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgig2De62Uc40vhoDLnbeZpo4mDuCQKGe7Vuln6AfMPtChdWxngyoaoGcn0YXQmmqF9jyyJRGFmfi_IMtP1lZtaVnbVZM2gZ1Fyg0oTs7FiGTEuiDOmUAWom8x_KAQQhpMnn-M6E3UOcZDc/s640/IMG_0455.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Then I tried it in the breakfast nook with some faux lavender...</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx4MKeEn6hahQRs9uO4n6GRhfrf75AKvMi0fOHbhmocogdMo0T6iuurGM5IqOhdak6UZEHGujON6xoyrJtU3dhC0aADaosvwcfs6VVUwH5Oe5osLJsGPS2I-nJgeon4ZSUNOnXXR8RGJbq/s1600/IMG_0562.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx4MKeEn6hahQRs9uO4n6GRhfrf75AKvMi0fOHbhmocogdMo0T6iuurGM5IqOhdak6UZEHGujON6xoyrJtU3dhC0aADaosvwcfs6VVUwH5Oe5osLJsGPS2I-nJgeon4ZSUNOnXXR8RGJbq/s640/IMG_0562.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And then I tried it in my ever so tiny downstairs half bath. I filled it with vintage looking dishtowels. My towels are not vintage but are precious, as they were embroidered by Michael's mom and grandmother. I think I liked the basket best here.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2PP-80KpY1skQP6cEW2-tBjNQEairHtuaYB1W3fexK0L__2sF-WUVWdKFAKj2jWPWs2vWJkis6O12xFrBn_Tdo6aL3LIdowFO4onp1T02edHDm9FK3BOilVIMO6JqIqqagW5vvTPRsAcd/s1600/IMG_0548.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2PP-80KpY1skQP6cEW2-tBjNQEairHtuaYB1W3fexK0L__2sF-WUVWdKFAKj2jWPWs2vWJkis6O12xFrBn_Tdo6aL3LIdowFO4onp1T02edHDm9FK3BOilVIMO6JqIqqagW5vvTPRsAcd/s640/IMG_0548.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<span style="color: #274e13;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And speaking of re-visioning...when you are a cottage dweller, as we are, you need to make the most of every inch of space. Michael and I both enjoy photography but wall space for displaying our efforts is limited, so we turned a wall in this tiny half bath into our version of an art gallery...</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWeT34F1SWupumxxKXy8oGfkNdUVwwldBamYaEraACZB8EWaFYvaJ29_Y1Dqqb-J6ZIrXtLzcmbiv-ISpsLoYlNaIasmoibPDu1Md5ih9tphJjyA1QbnqA_PlghHU3YXAhx8wbe1MgTrEI/s1600/IMG_0549.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWeT34F1SWupumxxKXy8oGfkNdUVwwldBamYaEraACZB8EWaFYvaJ29_Y1Dqqb-J6ZIrXtLzcmbiv-ISpsLoYlNaIasmoibPDu1Md5ih9tphJjyA1QbnqA_PlghHU3YXAhx8wbe1MgTrEI/s640/IMG_0549.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">The squarish basket in the corner is an English fishing basket....much different style than the French one and I believe would not be referred to as a proper "creel." The French basket is designed to be slung around the body. The square English basket also has a carrying strap but it is designed to be a little stool for sitting, while you fish. Charming. I tucked this smallish one in the corner to hold spare tp rolls. </span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSET-t6PyjjWxzSO9WdpFn4CqNrTqz5H5uyvxaT1YryMhC12e-MBJAs4r88KA_cy9wvEZit8iXGA34e1L1NN_e4NQYRPbh98eI0zBNhkuFC3sNhy9MqrnnBYb_wf24DmA-q55NJdo7pwx-/s1600/IMG_0553.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSET-t6PyjjWxzSO9WdpFn4CqNrTqz5H5uyvxaT1YryMhC12e-MBJAs4r88KA_cy9wvEZit8iXGA34e1L1NN_e4NQYRPbh98eI0zBNhkuFC3sNhy9MqrnnBYb_wf24DmA-q55NJdo7pwx-/s640/IMG_0553.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">So that's what I've been doing lately....sitting in the dark...my temporary loss of sight led me to a space just perfect for re-visioning. The movement of Spirit never ceases to amaze me. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">peace and all good, </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: #274e13;">Lisa </span></span><br />
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<br />Lisahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16539774270449394468noreply@blogger.com3