Why I Write

I do not write because I understand. I write in order to understand.

Writing for me has become a deeply transformational spiritual discipline.

I started blogging 13 years ago. I felt like I was entering a wilderness of my own. I see my blogging as a way to map my spiritual journey. Little did I know what the future had in store . . . a deep and excruciating depression, divorce, loss of my kids halftime to joint custody, job loss, loss of health benefits, foreclosure of the home my children were born in; and I turned 50 all that spring. My wilderness was like an earthquake that left nothing unturned. So each time I post, like the Israelites in the wilderness, it was a monument to something new (a new perspective or insight or a new set of questions) that I must REMEMBER. So like the Israelites, I go back to my “monuments”, my altars of stone, my piles of rocks, regularly. I want to make sure I never forget my own pain and its transformation of my heart nor do I ever want to forget the pain of others. I now can enter in to their pain with them and just be there with them. See more here: The Way of Compassion and The Way of the Brokenhearted

The Open Hand

There are two distinct approaches to living life:
Open hand living
or
Clenched fist living

Our hands are an expression of our heart and mind, our inner self.
As an artist expresses the inner self . . .
As a warrior expresses the inner self . . .
As a villan expresses the inner self . . .
As a thief expresses the inner self . . .
. . . Through the hand,

So do we in our every action and re-action
To people and to life

“Think of the difference between being confronted with a clenched fist and being offered an open hand. The clenched fist signifies threat, rejection, arrogance, exclusion, refusal, anger and violence. The open hand means friendship, help, peace, sharing, communication and connection.” (fr. Vivian Boland)