Friday, May 15, 2015

Wisdom from a friend

This helped today and I don't want to lose it in my myriad media repositories.

...."sometimes the hurt you receive is not reflective of the person you are but more so an indication of how much energy you're investing in the act of trusting or learning to."

Thank you dear friend. This is freeing insight.

Friday, July 12, 2013

The Door

Imagine you stand before a door, a door that you very deeply yearn  to see beyond, a door that you sense holds behind it an entire world of opportunities, of freedom, of refreshment, of life itself.  But you’re not sure.  The sense is there, but certainty is not.  Do you knock? Or do you linger, hoping for courage, or perhaps for assurance; but then, you know assurance for your hesitation will lead only to a new caution, a new thought that holds you back.  Yet still you linger, and your longing gnaws at you silently, but your ifs, buts, maybes and anxieties clamour in your head, and the silent gnawing seems to fade to a dull ache.

Breathe a moment.  Consider where you stand.  Feel your heart beat in your chest.  Listen to the flow of your breath. Be still.

Look again, as you stand before the door.  And see the tiny seed of courage, of hope, of faith in your heart. It is tiny, but it is enough.  You reach forward to knock, still tentative, but you reach forward, anticipating that after you knock you will hear the sound of muted footsteps as the occupant approaches to open the door.  But, there is no nervous waiting, no time for anxiety as your mind roars “run away, it was a mistake, there’ll be no welcome for me”.  No. As your tightly clenched fist falls upon the surface before you, it lands, not to make a hollow doleful tone, but rather on warmth, on a yielding, welcoming chest, and you feel the love in the heart beneath your fingers, as your hand is covered by that of the one who welcomes you. You are greeted, before you’ve even completed the act of knocking, by the warm, gentle, welcoming and loving embrace of the Father.  

From the tiniest grain of faith, as you reach to knock, in that instant He is there. In that instant you stand in His embrace. Cherished, beloved, safe.

Little did you realise, as you approached to knock, that He stands waiting, knocking on the door of your heart, anticipating your faith, and longing for you to know the unconditional love he has always had for you, and always will.

Saturday, May 25, 2013

Not Made for Here

I’m not convinced I’m made for this place.  It hurts.  When I live as I believe I am best to live, it really  hurts. I think I scare people.  I think my friends find me hard work and far too intense. Yes, I am intense.  But no longer will I think of myself as being too intense. I am as intense as I am. Yes, I insist on living incredibly authentically, with belligerent commitment to integrity, honesty and loving & connecting deeply.  This is not normal. Or at least, it is not usual.  And it’s lonely.  I asked a trusted confidante the other day if this was an unhealthy way to think. She reminded me of the bell curve.  I’m still normal, but it seems I sit at a tail on many things, and thus, yes, it is lonely.  That’s not an arrogant statement, not in the slightest, I say it with the greatest humility and a deep desire to understand why I find this place so hard, why I seem to face much opposition to simply being me.  Perhaps opposition is too active a word.  Me being me can tend to make people uncomfortable.  However, how else do we explore new possibilities unless we are challenged, unless we move out of our comfort zones? Me causing discomfort is not something I want to shy away from.  It’s not something I actively seek to do – my desire is not to hurt or cause pain, but I do like to challenge and provoke and open windows to new thoughts and possibilities and new ways of thinking and seeing.  And let’s face it, new things, whilst exciting, still involve change, and change is rarely comfortable.

I love too deeply for most people’s comfort; I do things to try and help people discover they are as wonderful as I see them to be, and I do it relentlessly.  Because being told “I love you” in an instant of time does not sustain you.  Love is an ongoing action.  We all need to hear and feel and receive active love. Not occasionally, but consistently. So yes, I’ll send encouraging, loving texts daily, yes, I’ll remind you that are you splendid and wonderful with great frequency, yes, i will hold on even when I am hurting and bleeding inside, because I know most of you don’t know how wonderful you are.  Not that I necessarily know that about myself, but I know it a lot better now than I used to. Today I know my God gazes on me with the deepest and most intense love.  My intensity is but a whisper compared to the way He loves me, and you.  My desired depth of connection is but an arcing circuit compared to how deeply He longs to be connected to me, and you. This at least I know.  Human love I find a little more fleeting, a little more difficult to trust and hold on to, but trust I do, though it pains me. Yes, I panic too.  Yes, sometimes the waves seem too big and I lose sight of my God and I cry out in desperation to be saved.  Thankfully, He is unflinchingly faithful and always ready to reach out His hand when I falter.  For my friends, for those I love, my stumblings are harder to understand, harder to weather.  I trust my God has them too.  I trust that somehow He will sustain their love for me through my intensity and my clinging and my soft, sensitive and often bloody heart wounds. 

I’m not sure I’m made for this place.  But I am grateful for those who walk by my side, near and far. Those who love me through my stumbling, through my elations, through my laughter and through my tears.  Those for whom I cry anguished tears and pray desperate prayers as I long for you to know how wonderfully splendid you are, that you might be free to love, to live abundantly, joyfully and playfully.  Thank you for loving me and holding on even when I’m hard to be with, even when I’m messy and panicking and uncomfortable for you to be with.  You keep me anchored. Thank God for you.

Friday, February 3, 2012

Love & Grace and Forgiveness

My obsession with love and grace continues.  As I remarked on facebook the other day to those who are wondering if I've completely weirded out - "there simply can't be too much love in the world! So I'm sharing it. :)"

On the vulnerability of loving...

When you care about someone, when you dare to love a person (and I'm talking the love of friendship here, not just 'significant other'), there is a cost involved.  You cannot love without making yourself vulnerable.  For in loving, you have opened your heart to a person.  Which means you have trusted them.  You have removed your protections.  For you can only love from a place of giving, of vulnerability.  Otherwise I would challenge if it is really love.  So the person you love has easy access to the soft, fleshy parts of your heart.  And we are all human, with our own foibles, our own mountains to climb, our own challenges, our own failings, strengths, weaknesses, blindspots.  So inevitably, the one you love will hurt you.  Most often it will not be intentional, and the ability to forgive, to show them grace, will be called upon.  It is well worth having people in your life who you love and who you have honoured by trusting them enough to allow them to hurt you.  Embrace that. And be ready and willing to forgive when the place they are in results in your own pain.  Because as they can hurt you, so too can you hurt them.  Grace.  It is a wonderful thing.  Somehow I don't think you can truly love without grace.  That perhaps is a thought for another post.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011


Oh my goodness, I'm so freaking excited I'm fair bouncing!!! I think I need to leave work really quickly because I'm beginning to scare people! 

I am soooo glad I finally decided I'd regret not going to the Foo Fighters concert tonight (with the incredible bonus of Tenacious D!)  Bounce bounce bounce! 

(There's no one to bounce to, so I'm blogging it, deal with it blogosphere).

Ok, way too early, but I'm going to leave anyway.  Yay yay yay! Wheeeeeee!  (Grief, I'm like a kid in snow for the first time).

Wednesday, December 7, 2011

Waxing lyrical on love again

I'm in one of those "I really want to write" moods.  But all the things I want to write about are perhaps not for public consumption.  Private musings on the journey of life, of love, of God, of growth.

There was a lovely quote an acquaintance posted on her Facebook page the other day - "It's going to hurt anyway. So if you're going to love, give it everything.".  That, dear friends, is a motto to live by. And, I think sometimes we read or think about love and we confine thoughts of love to 'significant' others in our lives.  Our partners, our parents, our children, our siblings, our most cherished friends, our source of being.  But love is bigger than that, if you'll but allow it to be.  Love can (and by definition ought to!) extend to the random stranger on the street who looks so troubled, until they receive your heartfelt smile or greeting and they light up (surely you've been on the receiving end of this too? I certainly have), or to the workmate who is having an appalling day and you gift them with a genuine comment of concern, care, or an action of practical support.  Or to the person you observe struggling at the supermarket and you abandon your own fear of standing out to offer them help, or a comment of sympathy. Or the acquaintance (or again colleague) who you can see is having a rough time and you find the courage to be vulnerable and actively offer them your ear, or your support, or at the very least, your understanding.  And can I say, it is sometimes scarey to reach out to someone you wouldn't normally reach out to, it can raise all your own insecurities, your vulnerability, but really, is that not the mandate of love? To be bigger than your insecurities, to be bolder than your fears, to be open to receive love and in turn to be willing to give it.  And the more you offer it, the more you find you have in your own life - to draw on yourself, and also to give out to others.  

And YES - loving really does hurt!  Empathy is not a passive point of view, it is an active identifying with people and allowing your heart to feel what they feel.  That is NOT a comfortable thing!  But is your ultimate goal to be comfortable?  It certainly isn't mine.  Yes, I want to live with peace of mind, but I also value growth and I'm here for the journey, to truly experience life.  To experience love.  As a receiver, but also abundantly as a giver.   It's a poignant ache, but what a way to know you are alive.  Of course, love is not just painful, it is beautiful, but I do think an emotion as strong as love is always a mix of pleasure and pain - of ache and of joy, of vulnerability and of elation.  Embrace it.  Dare to feel.  Risk love.

Tuesday, November 15, 2011

Dare to live large

How do artists find the courage to share their art?  Poets, song-writers, sculptors, painters, musicians, dancers. For surely in expressing your art, you lay bare a part of your soul.  I think perhaps, the desire to share what is in your heart must eventually outweigh the risk and associated fear of making yourself vulnerable, by so openly sharing a glimpse of your sacred-self.  But still, courage must be needed.  Personally, I need my heart to be handled gently.  But of course, when you share your art, your audience is never entirely of our own choosing, and not necessarily gentle, safe or kind.  Hmm.  And yet, sometimes, you just have to share, or risk stifling the beauty of who you are.

May more of us have the courage to be and share ourselves, to be open, to have faith, to trust. And to love and express that love.

Delight in the sunshine, in the rain.  In the gentle sound of leaves in the wind, in the fury of the sea in storm. In the quiet of the moonrise, in the majesty of the mountains.   In the sound of laughter, in the pain of grief that reminds you that you are alive.  In the love of friends, in the laughter of children.  Embrace each moment, and live your life as large as you dare.  And may you dare!