Moms

You are young and you are old.

Your role was by choice, and then sometimes it was not.

You had a choice, you said yes, and life for you was never the same again.

You had a choice, you said no, and life for you was never the same again.

You tried and you tried to receive that seed, and you questioned why not. You watch the mothers around you, and you continue to wonder why not? Why not me? Sadness, grief, and loss fill you.

You looked and you saw faces that needed to be loved so you made room in your heart, in your mind, and in your home. You didn’t have much, but you shared it anyway.

You said yes, and delivered to you was not the bouncing baby that you expected, but one who didn’t measure up, who wasn’t the same, who would grow you, stretch you and have you cry in the night.

You took him to the doctor, you fed him vitamins, you tucked him in at night, and sent him to school in the morning, but he didn’t see that car coming, and he didn’t know to protect himself from that drunk driver. You say goodbye.

You took all the right precautions, you taught her to protect herself, to say no, never to drive with strangers, but you didn’t know the evil was already under your roof. You say goodbye to innocence and wrap your arms around her and never let go.

You get up morning after morning, after a late night, with a fever, and put food on the table, say I love you, and go into your cave and pray. Pray for guidance, for protection, and for tons of patience.

Then they age, and gather opinions— opinions about you. They don’t always remember the little things, the tough things, the thousands of hours of care, but they will remember what you said wrong or did wrong or what you forgot. And you love them anyway.

Then you look back and wish you had done more, given more, loved more, angered less, and you pray for forgiveness.

You are young and you are old, but your heart is the heart of a mother, the one ancient mother, the one who will rise again, will love again. You are of the infinite essence of the maternal, guided by the wisdom that is a millennium old, you are Mother.

I am YOU

I am Trayvon Martin. I am George Zimmerman.

And this is what matters!

This is one possible response to the loss of one of our spiritual family.

By Reverend Michelle Wadleigh

There is a place beyond right and wrong. There is a place beyond opinion. There is a place where love reigns overall. Are you the house of this love, beyond right and wrong, beyond opinion? Are you a place where peace surpasses all things?

A tragedy happened–AGAIN. Another event, affirming the limitations of our collective consciousness, of our race consciousness, of the belief in pain and suffering of US AND THEM. For as long as we believe in separation, until we accept all aspects of our being, the world at large will reflect the limitations of our consciousness.

We are the problem. We are  the collective world consciousness; the microcosm to the macrocosm of world events.

What YOU, what I do next, is what matters! The next thought we have about the tragedy of the death of this seventeen-year-old, son of ours, Trayvon Martin. The next opinion we formulate about our spiritual brother, George Zimmerman, is what matters. Here is one fact that many will not agree with, but one that we cannot change. NO ONE WILL EVER KNOW WHAT ACTUALLY HAPPENED–not objectively. But we do know that the lives of two individuals ended on that day, and the lives of their families, friends, and neighbors have been touched forever.

Who you are right now, what you do next, how you tell this story, how you hold it in your heart, is what matters now! If you can resist, don’t let the temptation of right, wrong, sin, racism, suffering, victimhood to get your attention. Resist the temptation to be anything other than LOVE, PEACE, POISE, COMPASSION and TRANQUILITY. After all, I am not white, black, male, female, right, wrong, tall or short. I am that which gives life to those things. I am the creation of the Creator, the ONE.

If we can lay down this foundation of Truth, there will be a greater possibility of stopping the momentum of hatred, the practice of racism, and the identification of victim. Let us not join the ranks of those who would join this consciousness of victim. Let us stand aside, stand higher, and stand in Love, especially because, in the end, compensation is in the hands of God. No one gets away with anything, even when it appears to be so. Not you, not me, not George Zimmerman. No one can live outside of his or her consciousness and the effects of personal behavior and the choices made. NO ONE.

Let’s know this truth, together: Love is our very identity. Love heals and reveals, and as we each lean into Love, it has its way with us. Let us embrace the Trayvon and George of us; the white and black of us, and the love and fear of us. Let us allow our spirits to ascend to the highest possible place, and see from that point of view that is above all else, unattached to human opinion, judgment, and any desire to find wrong. We recognize that all involved suffer in this tragedy, even if they don’t know that. Let us be the foundation of love that is neutral and available to all. We hold in our hearts the hearts of the families of the Martins and the Zimmermans and their community.  Together we let love Reign over all of these proceedings and find Peace above all else.

And so it is!

Can't we all just get along

            As they all got into my car (they being four sweaty, excited and fun-loving teenagers), a conversation ensued, which was appropriate to the season but definitely challenging to my son. The question and following conversation began with: “What did you give up for Lent?”  The words struck a reaction in me and immediately I knew that I would have to run interference on my son’s behalf who has learned–at least it seems real–that it is not safe to be too different with certain things while living in Small Town, USA.

             The last time he ventured off into sharing about his religion and beliefs, his friend never let him forget it and for the longest time he offered commentary while they would be in group gatherings with their friends. So run interference I did and glad of it because after he knew that I was there for him and he felt safe, that is when he shared the story with me about his friend, which I never knew until last night. Knowing this explains a lot of his reactions to me. Now I get it. Now I can reflect back and make sense of other conversations that were avoided, or of comments and denials that were made. Now I get it.

I can remember that from my youth also: growing up in a mostly Irish/Italian/Catholic town, being religiously different, believing in an inner and everywhere present God was not welcomed and definitely caused separation. There are a lot of things that one does not get invited to when you are not part of the crowd. Thank God for bar mitzvahs or Seth wouldn’t go to anything spiritually related with his friends.

I must say though, it is a sad day when our children are not welcome to be different, to be who they are, to stand slightly off to the right of something. What a missed opportunity for others who don’t feel  safe enough to have a conversation or inquiry that shows true curiosity and interest in another. Have we as a global society not grown past feeling threatened when someone is different? The richness of our practice is being missed as we lend ourselves to avoiding conversations.

In April, I am performing a wedding ceremony for a young couple: the wife-to-be was brought up Catholic and the husband-to-be didn’t have a huge religious influence. I am so totally delighted to perform this wedding because I have known the groom since before he could walk but this is how the conversation went. And mind you, I will be speaking to this with them. I’ve been invited to perform at the party BUT they will be getting married by the priest the night before because the family wanted to see them get married “in the eyes of God.” WOW. At what point did I cease representing the spiritual side of marriage? Now, I understand and have no energy about this personally but some education is definitely called for here.

I look forward to the day when those of us who practice any religion or spiritual practice outside of the accepted Christian Judaic religion are asked to the table, welcomed to the table or proudly setting our own table to which we will invite in ALL OTHERS. I look forward to the day when we measure someone by their actions and not by the sacred text that they carry if they carry one. I look forward to experiencing all people as my extended spiritual family─ even when I don’t agree with them.  Join me in this dream, won’t you?  Join me in dreaming, peace, poise and possibility. Let’s walk hand in hand in love, in grace in God/Good/Beauty/Spirit/Life.

Home from Maui

A few days ago, I was walking a sacred labyrinth on the coast of Maui, which is located on the edge of a sacred Hawaiian burial ground; beautiful rocks, a calm ocean of breath-taking color, a calm, cloudless sky, and whales¾whales playing, blowing and breaching as they showed off for those who would stand still long enough to watch.

Together with a group of ministerial friends, we walked in total silence and the silence remains with me now. Whenever I participate in an activity such as this, it reawakens in me a place that exists at my core. The fullness that I feel is almost overwhelming; at the least, it expands my heart and brings tears of joy to my eyes.

Walking in the company of seven ministerial friends and comrades who traveled from all over the United States to gather, pray, vision and design an experience to satisfy our ministerial field. Together we cooked and laughed and processed and allowed spirit to inform our being. I am so incredibly grateful for being elected to serve on this committee of individuals.

But more than being happy about this team, I am simply so glad to be called to the service that I give. My position offers me a unique role in life that is unlike many others. Each day, I am called to be a witness to the private lives of people in their darkest and their most joyous hours. This up-close-and-personal view alternates between being appreciated and resented. When I am doing my job well, it is because I bring to the table my intuition and my ability to see the truth. But there is a very thin line between students and congregants wanting to be seen, and feeling horrified when I am able to see things that they were hoping to hide.

The saddest part of this is that, If people realized that the more open, available and authentic they are, and the more visible and transparent they are, they would see how much more beautiful they are

This is true at the core of each, even though I sometimes have to pass by some of the ugliness of their humanity: when it is pure and unprotected, it has a beauty to it unlike anything else. True authenticity allows the witness to see not only the end result, but the path to that end result, and when you are able to see the entire thing, all you have left is elegance. Pure, beautiful, human elegance

This up-close-and-personal view holds for me the same kind of experience that the labyrinth walk on the coast of Maui provided. Both have an exquisite harmony and beauty to them and my heart feels the beauty and the healing of being a witness to this. I am so grateful.

Sometimes you choose

This is something that I wrote after having to make a decision to be part of something that mattered to me very much. The choice came at the birth of my new relationship and so I had to choose to either nurture my new love or my interest. As you can see, love won out!

Oh god, what a trickster you are.
You bring a love to me that moves
   my heart and soul and then you ask me
   to have patience.
You open my heart and tell me to wait.
You show me what’s possible as my
   fullest expression and then lead me to
   have to choose.
Well, I have your number; I see what
   you’re up to.
You wanted to see if love would be my first choice.
You tempted me with an opportunity that would have me
   look like I am worthy and then you place this
   love in front of me to show me that I am worthy.
I have chosen love. I have chosen your gift. I have
   chosen this sweet expression of good, of love.
Have I passed your test?
Have I chosen correctly?
I say yes, and I accept the fully orbed experience
   of this decision.

As Love Unfolds

           The dust has settled and my feet are grounded again—thank God—but they most definitely have settled on higher, more luscious ground. Even after being single for as long as I was, which was shocking to me to begin with, I never identified myself as an individual that "would be without a man." Truth be told, I needed to be alone, and I needed to be alone for as long as I was.

In that alone time, I grew strong, faithful and confident; not so much in myself, but in the God of me, and I learned that I was capable in so many more areas then I could ever imagine. Mostly though I learned how to handle the pain of upset, disappointment and loneliness, and in learning how to navigate through those emotional waters, I became someone that someone would want to be with.

I left behind many tendencies that quite honestly are simply unattractive. I was never one to play the delicate woman who always needed a man, but I was needy in order to feel complete, and that is something that just does not live inside me anymore, anywhere. At this juncture, I bring the all of me to my relationship—to my man—but not out of a need for completion, but out of a desire to share my life, my fullness, my love and the expansion of my consciousness.

With all this being said, there is still a lot to learn. In an earlier blog, I declared that the me that I am has never been in a relationship, and that is so true; but because I am dealing with a new me, my old references are gone, the games are gone, and the automatic anything is gone. I live in a constant state of who am I, how do I feel about this and how would I like to proceed. The good news is that everything that transpires within my relationship is a definite reflection of feeling worthy to have this abundant love and man in my life. I bring a level of honesty and compassion that I used to save for people I didn’t know. How crazy is that? (Do you ever find that you are nicer to strangers than those living under your own roof?)

Since life never stops being life, there are things and feelings to handle and respond to; there is that dance that new lovers do that is a bit clumsy as they are each trying to learn the dance steps of that particular team. Staying awake and aware are key here, and the single most important thing that I hold onto in every moment is this: I am okay no matter what. A few years ago, I finally got the total and complete meaning of the spiritual truth that is taught: no one is against you. I will forever remember when this became true to the core of my being, and so why would this be different within an intimate relationship? It’s not: it still remains true and it carries me within our investigations of each other.

So here’s where I am: in love, in spiritual practice, in greater love, in greater spiritual practice and then, yes, in greater love. My love grows from my grounding in Truth, God and Unconditional Love. So love is unfolding, one sweet, delicious petal at a time, as it opens itself, exposing its fragrance and delicate ways. There can only be once response—thank you, thank you, thank you. And this process begs me to constantly remember that the love I am so thoroughly engaging in is the love that I bring to the experience, because I worked my butt off to learn how to love and accept myself as I am. And this love, lover and loving relationship is most definitely an out-picturing of my consciousness.

By the way, none of this truth takes away from the fact that I happen to be in love with an amazing, sensitive, awake human who is willing to meet me in the fire of transformation. For those of you who know me personally, how could I have had it any other way?

All my love,

Michelle

               

The Life of a Dust Particle

They danced about in the light as the sun was shining through the window. Each particle of dust with its own life, space and substance. Reflecting light, that to a degree, added light to the room. Each floating in their own space, freely moving about. Are they aware of their own existence? Are they the microcosm to our world as the macrocosm? Is there life there on that little particle? Does each wonder about its purpose for being? Are we like those particles of dust; the microcosm to the macrocosm of the universe? How insignificant the particle appears from afar? But what life does it contain?
What life do we contain?