Closing Doors

My mother used to say, "When one door closes, God opens a window." I know she wasn't the first to utter those words. But in my mind, it's always her voice saying it. It's an incredible message of hope ~ and it often keeps me going when I feel immersed in darkness.

Paulo Coelho's quote brings a new clarity to this phrase as well as to the concept of closing doors. Sometimes the closing of a door has a positive purpose. Sometimes the doors we are accustomed to traversing no longer serve us. Sometimes those doors keep us fixed in places where we are comfortable, but no longer growing.

All my life I've been pretty much of a loner. Because of that, I've learned a great deal about closing doors, closed doors and swinging doors. In high school I often felt like a hex nut in a hammer and nail world. I took choir because we had to take a performance art class, yet I did not like performing. Closed that door after that year. Whew! Then in college, I was approached by a graduating senior and asked to try out for the gospel choir. Huh? Me? But on a whim, because she asked, I did it. At the very open, very packed tryouts, I won a place not only in the 200+ voice performing choir, but also in the 50 voice traveling choir. That door I thought closed? It turned out to be open again. Sometimes that can happen as well. Though I still consider myself a non-performer, that year with the gospel choir led me into a new world for a time. When the performance door closed at the end of that year, I knew it was time to let it go and move on.

Closing doors are not always locked. Sometimes doors need our help to close, to let go, to move on. We can take what we've learned and apply the lessons elsewhere. Though not easy, it can be refreshing simply to acknowledge that the door is closed.

When have you had a door close? When have you been the one to close the door? Can you see that where it led no longer served you? Are you still trying to pry it open? What open window or door might you be missing?

Teaching and Discovery

As a teacher, by trade and by calling, I find this quote not only accurate, but also comforting. In an age where 'accountability' is being doled out like candy to every classroom teacher, there appears to be a strong tendency to forget that, although impressionable and somewhat malleable, children and youth have their own intelligence, will and self-determination. They have to be interested in the discovery.

As a teacher, I am also a perpetual learner ~ what is referred to as a 'lifelong learner.' My natural curiosity and desire to discover and do new things keeps me alive to the further discovery of myself. I have an understanding of the learning process as Galileo describes it. The discovery within myself is the passion and interest I have for a subject ~ some are more deeply embedded than others. Although I have a fair knowledge of and capacity for mathematics, that's not my passion nor my first choice interest. My passion lies more in writing, philosophy and other similar areas.

What strikes your passion? How do you learn best? What was the essential quality of your favorite teacher? How is that quality reflected in your life?

Mary of Magdala

from the Gospel of Mary Magdalene:

The Savior replied, "Every nature, every modeled form, every creature, exists in and with each other. They will dissolve again into their own proper root. For the nature of matter is dissolved into what belongs to its nature. Anyone with two ears able to hear should listen!"

In the Catholic and Orthodox traditions, July 22nd is the Feast of Mary Magdalene. The two traditions differ in their views of who Mary Magdalene was. Even though John Paul II apologized and sought to correct the error, for many centuries ~ since Pope Gregory's sermon on the topic ~ she was seen as a prostitute. There was an assumption that she was the woman caught in adultery. Or that one of the seven devils cast out of her was prostitution. Many Christian traditions continue to see her that way ~ or insist upon that as her image.

The Orthodox never saw her as a prostitute. To them she was always the Apostle to the Apostles. She is the one who first encountered the risen Christ, the one who told the remainder of the men waiting in the Upper Room, walking the streets, that Jesus had risen.

No matter. She is a controversial subject. Some would like to see her married to Jesus, bearing his children. Others would have her living the remainder of her days in a cave, penitent to the very end.

I believe the controversy is what makes her strong. She herself is simply a woman. In the Gospel of Mary Magdalene, Peter essentially calls her a liar and her response is to weep. It's a different level and form of response than we think should happen. Why? Why is it that we want, need, determine that in order to be strong, she must 'fight back'? Her strength lies in her knowledge of Jesus, in her capacity for compassion, in her following the commands of her Lord.

Mary of Magdala has always been special to me. Even when I thought she was a reformed prostitute living as a hermit in a cave, she called to me. I considered her blessed by the fact that she was there, with Him, learning. What matter how she got there? Who cares about her past? What difference does it make? For me, it made none. I am glad that she has become well-known, even controversial. It makes one more woman of wisdom in the Light.

What do you know of Mary of Magdala? What difference has she made in your life? What 'saint' or 'holy person' has influenced you more? Why?

Meeting a Seattle Tree

"Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, the preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life."

~ Hermann Hesse

As a friend and I chatted while strolling down a street in the Queen Anne neighborhood, we chanced upon this incredible tree. I have no idea what type of tree it is, but it stood full and strong with its character visible on its trunk. It was old enough that my arms could not go around it. It was beyond gnarled. I stood facing it, awestruck.

Hesse is absolutely right: trees are sanctuaries, consecrated places. Something about their very presence reminds us of the holy. Even though my friend and I had been chatting a moment previously, seeing the power of that tree stopped us in our tracks. We could feel the conversation, the flow of truth, between ourselves and the tree. We listened to Creator speaking through creation, through the presence of the trees.

Earlier in the day, as I drove to Seattle, I marveled at the greenery on display along the highway. I found myself repeating prayers of gratitude ~ to Spirit, to Mother Earth, to the trees themselves. Thankful for their beauty, the miraculous oxygen they exhale, for the shade they provide as I passed. So much more than I could ever imagine. I remain grateful to this very moment.

How do you feel about trees? What creates a sanctuary to/for you? What are you grateful for?

Heading Out

"For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel's sake. The great affair is to move."

~ Robert Louis Stevenson

Like so many of my friends and co-workers, I love to travel. Being on the move lends an element of adventure to my life. It also keeps me connected with the people I have had the great fortune of meeting over the years. I see new sights and learn previously unknown facts each and every time, no matter how many times I've visited a place.

Tomorrow morning, I once again leave home for the wilds of Seattle. I've been there many times, visiting with the same friends annually, occasionally seeing other friends who live in the area as well. Each trip is a new and renewed adventure. Sometimes we go to the same places: Pike Street Market, St. Mark's Cathedral, UW campus, downtown, the Seattle Art Museum. Even trips to Goodwill and Costco are adventures because these are not my home territory. We walk the streets, hills and parks. I see the sunset over a different landscape. All of these things, small and large, renew and refresh my spirit. I am filled with gratitude for the opportunity to go as well as the friends to visit.

Do you like to travel? What is your favorite destination? How do you feel prior to heading out?

Building Your Story

"It's like everyone tells a story about themselves inside their own head. Always. All the time. That story makes you what you are. we build ourselves out of that story."

~ Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind

When I wake each day, I retell the story of who I am. I rebuild my place in the world. If I rise telling myself that I don't want to get up, that I'd rather stay in bed, chances are fairly good that I will spend the day grumpier and less enthusiastic. If I rise with gratitude for the new day, with any semblance of joy and spring in my step, I will be in a brighter mood throughout the day. It's my choice.

As the day progresses, at every encounter, every juncture, I have choice as to how I react, how I proceed with the rest of my day. Sometimes, I don't feel very joyful or lively. I can choose to let those emotions rule the moment or I can choose to move forward as though I am in better spirits. At the end of the day, the story of who I am, of how my day has been, of what influenced my mood, is all up to me.

I build the story of my life day by day. I am a teacher ~ whether in the public school system or not. I am a writer. I am a healer. I am a mother, a partner, a sister, a friend. I have a good sense of humor, a quick and ready wit, a willingness to help. I am compassionate, kind and caring. These are some of the stories I build about myself day by day. At any given moment, one or another of them may be easier or more elusive to tell. I go forward telling them anyway.

What is the story you tell of your life? Does it change day by day? Are there some chapters of the story that are easier or harder to tell? How do you stay on track with your story?

What's in the Mist?

The Mist by Carl Sandburg

"I am the mist, the impalpable mist, 
Back of the thing you seek. ....

I was at the first of things, 
I will be at the last. 
I am the primal mist ..."

I woke gently and groggily from the dream.... all around was The Mist. The ground was flat stone, like paving stone or large flat rocks that make up the landscape. I'd been encountering a variety of presences in the Mist. No one was clearly seen except in the brief passing from one position to another. To some, it would have seemed we were fighting or struggling against each other because much of the contact was surprised, often aggressive-looking. Instead, it felt more like a dance ~ a huge, unrehearsed, unexpected dance. Upon waking, I felt anxious, unsure ~ as though I'd left in the middle of a performance and others were going to be expected to make up for my disappearance.

Dreams bring so much into our lives. They bring adventure, definition, excitement, information, fear, pleasure, and a whole host of other things. There is no one interpretation for the dream ~~ unless it is the one determined by the dreamer. 

One interpretation of my dream signifies an adventure upon which I am embarking. There are roles and players of those roles. I will encounter them and have a variety of exchanges with them. We will be 'dancers upon the stage.' I know more depth and breadth will come as I sit with the dream.

I chose the snippets from Sandburg's poem for several different reasons. He was born in Illinois, as was I. Also, I love the personification of The Mist. It's a being ~ which is how it felt in my dream. The Mist was dancing with us. It certainly felt both impalpable and primal. I will also sit with the words of Sandburg's poem to see if it helps clarify any more of my dream.

How do you interpret your dreams? Do you see or read significance in them? Do you find or search out the words of others that may speak to you? Do you match those words to your dreams?