who am i?

who am I?

 

familial roles identify
daughter, grandchild, sister
mother, wife, mother in law

 

occupational roles define
author, educator, counselor
broadcaster, journalist
ethicist, consultant

 

vocational roles name
creative spirituality artist
writer, priest, friend
child of God

 

playful roles define
puppeteer, clown
flautist, blogger
and more

 

who am i?
am i one person today
and tomorrow another
am i all
all at once
interwoven

 

who am i?
i’m me
evolving, unfolding
creating
discovering and re-discovering
becoming the essence
of the spirit within

june mack maffin january 2007

 

 

Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder

Reginald is ugly. Plain and ordinary and ugly. Well, that’s what I’ve been told – and that’s how I’ve seen him since he first came into my life almost twenty years ago. And yet …

And yet … he’s not. He has become a very poignant reminder that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Some would say that Reginald is anything but a beauty or handsome. His legs are bowed. His arms are pudgy. His ears are big. His body is out of shape. His eyes bulge. His neck is short and almost non-existent. His arms and legs are disproportionate to the rest of his body. His mouth is – well, his mouth is … yep, ugly.

Even though for many years, I’ve done various crafts (at one time supporting my son and I with sales from macramé hangings, knitting, crocheting and tole painting art), I always seemed to have more than a critical eye about my efforts … measuring my work against the work of others. It’s been the same with puppet making, papercrafts, prayer beads. “Anyone can create them better than I can” was the tape running through my head.

I’ve borrowed craft books from the library which showed all sorts of wonderful possibilities. I’d try them, but they never looked the way they did in the photographs. I’ve taken craft classes and tried my hand at various projects over the years, and the results were … yech. Never good – never something I’d want to show, give, let alone sell.

Then I became ill – unable to work, unable to take craft classes, unable to do very much other than rest and be still. One morning, the Creator spoke … “Keep your mind active and your hands busy. Make time to reflect.”

Reflect. What a word! Before I knew it, a new craft began to emerge … a new craft working with wood mirrors. Then came the “Seeing … Me” Meditation – then the ‘name’ for the craft (MirrorMeditations) – then a website and business card for the craft (www.mirrormeditations.wordpress.com) – and then friends who looked at the results and asked how much I was selling them for.

Huh???

“They’re not good enough to sell – not pretty enough – not …” and here again, that critical voice took over!

Words in an unrelated email from a cyberfriend jumped out at me: “Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” Duhhhhhh. Well, I know that! But, did I? Really?

An image appeared in my mind’s eye …

Reginald.

Why did the image of Reginald come to me at the moment I read the reminder that beauty is in the eye of the beholder? Could it have something to do with the fact that for almost two decades, I’ve been in love with Reginald?

Nawwwww.

And yet, the love I have for Reginald is deep. He speaks words which penetrate deep to the heart of the hearer when he preaches … he makes me laugh … he listens with intentionality and concentration … he …

Well, there’s just so much that I love about him. Ugly? If he’s so ugly, how is it that children delight in seeing him … that elders see beyond his ugliness and share in the joy he brings? Could it be that while society’s standards are such that he is unattractive at the very least, some can behold beauty within him. Reginald – ugly? Why is it that we allow society to dictate what is beautiful, of value, worthwhile … set standards for and what is not?

Why can we not see ourselves as the precious child of the universe who is someone with gifts to share, beauty to reflect, intelligence to use, wisdom to impart and so much more?

Reginald sits at my feet as I finish this little writing … smiling at me. It seems that this blip-on-the-screen-of-life time when I’m unwell, unable to work, must do a lot of resting is a time of grace to reflect on many things. And that brings me back to the craft that has been occupying these days of recovery … MirrorMeditations.

Mmmmmm, interesting — mirrors “reflect.” Reginald wouldn’t be surprised. Could it be that if I and others can see beyond what is evident to be ugliness by society’s standards in Reginald’s face and body and see beauty, others may look at the crafts I do with eyes that perceive beauty?

The Holy One doesn’t create ugliness. God creates beauty. The Creator looked and saw that “it was good.” In the eyes of this beholder, I am beautiful; my crafts are beautiful; Reginald is beautiful.

Created in a life-sized puppet class almost twenty years ago, Reginald was the ugliest in the class. Others laughed at him, literally. But Reginald has had the last laugh … he’s still delighting the hearts of children – endearing himself to the grown-up’s and elders – teaching me about the importance of looking beyond the surface of a person, a project, a craft.

P.S. To Anne who has no idea how her email got me going, to Krista and Kathie who continue to affirm and encourage me in creative pursuits, and to Reginald who is God’s gentle reminder that beauty is in the eye of the beholder, thank you.

 

 

 

Yesterday’s Yesterday

yesterday
driving into busy downtown
i noticed
out of the corner of my eye
a young man
standing
hat in hand
in a corner

bless him,dear god
I muttered
questions flitting through my head
why is he here
how long has he lived on the street
do people help him

the light changed
i stopped

and there
he was
squeegee in hand
cleaning my front window

i don’t want this
i suppose he wants me to pay

i felt anger beginning to rise
then a wave of compassion
came

i dug into my pocket for something to give
but
he had disappeared.

i swirled my head around
thinking he was cleaning the back window
but he had disappeared

a random act of kindness
and i was left
with a maelstrom of emotions

the light changed
i moved with the traffic

bless him, dear god
I muttered
as tears flowed down my cheeks
forgive my selfish and judgmental thoughts

i came to my destination
put coins in the parking meter

a young man approached
friendly
gentle
in distress

his story was unique
aren’t they all

he didn’t want money
he said
but
something
someOne
spoke to my heart

i felt god’s touch
and knew
in that moment
as i helped him,
god
was with the first young man

a sign
to pass on
an act of random kindness

today

so that tomorrow’s
yesterday
won’t be the same as
yesterday’s
yesterday.

The Worry Box

Worry – worry – worry. Some people are really worry-warts. They worry about the weather … they worry about exams … they worry about finances … they worry about grades … they worry about their health, their children, their parents, their friends … they worry!

J. Arthur Rank, the movie mogul, was a worry-wart. One day, he had an idea. He decided to do all his worrying on the same day each week. When anything happened that gave him anxiety, he would write it down and put it in his Worry Box. Each Wednesday, he would open the Worry Box and discover that most of the things that had worried him the other six days, were already settled and it would have been useless to worry about them.

Rank discovered what statisticians have learned — that most people worry about things that never happen – or that can’t be changed: 40% – the things never happen, 30% – the things can’t be changed, 12% – needless health concerns, 10% miscellaneous inconsequential concerns, 8% – real, legitimate concerns.

Scientists and medical professionals have proven that worry can be harmful – spiritually, emotionally, mentally, physically. Jesus knew about this.

In the New Revised Standard Version of the Bible, (Luke 12:22f), Jesus told his followers “Don’t worry about your life … can any of you, by worrying, add a single hour to your life span? If you’re not able to do so small a thing as that, why do you worry about the rest?”

And in The Message by Eugene Peterson, the same passage is translated: “Has anyone by fussing before the mirror ever gotten taller by so much as an inch? If fussing can’t do that, why fuss at all? Walk into the fields and look at the wildflowers – the lilies – they don’t fuss with their appearance. But have you ever seen colour and design quite like it? If God gives such attention to the lilies of the field, don’t you think He’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you?”

Some think they can turn over some of their fears and concerns to God, but only some people, because others think they have problems that are so huge that they want to still have some control over them. And when they hang on to their problems, they worry!

We can all think of a hundred scenarios where worry and anxiety seem perfectly in order. Or, is it? Does it really boil down to “trusting”? Trusting God/the Creator/by-whatever-name-we-relate-to-our Higher Power?

When I lived on the Sunshine Coast, I had a lovely home snuggled into a rocky hill on almost an acre. Lots of woods and, I soon discovered, lots of carpenter ants who just loved my wooden home. I quickly found an exterminator who drilled holes inside my walls, promising that my problem would soon come to an end. “It may take a few days for the ants to disappear. I may seem for a time that you have have more of them. It takes a while for the insecticide to take effect. But, it will work.”

And, you know what? Within a week, the carpenter ant infestation was gone and though I did see an occasional ant, I trusted the exterminator and believed that he knew what he was doing.

A widow had reared six biological and twelve adopted children. In spite of her busy, hectic and troubled life, she was noted for her calm and peaceful manner. The reporter asked her “How, amidst all the poverty, work, sickness and responsibility, have you managed to have such a confident spirit?” She replied One day, a long time ago, I said to God, “I’ll do the work. You do the worrying.” I haven’t had a worry since.”

I like that. Let God do the worrying – why would I trust an exterminator more than I would God?

In a Hagar the Horrible cartoon, Hagar is shown talking to God saying “I pray, and pray, but you never answer me!” A monotone voice out of the cloud, supposedly the voice of God, said “Sorry if you can’t get through right away. Keep trying. These days, everyone wants to talk to Me.”

The Creator would never respond in such a fashion to our needs. When we call upon our Higher Power, there is no voice that gives us a multitude of frustrating instructions telling us to push the ‘pound sign.’ God doesn’t leave us talking to a computer voice and doesn’t have an answering machine either. God is *always* there, caring about what is causing us hurt, pain and anxiety.

Nine year old Travis had been badly burned in a housefire. He had a lot of time to think and wonder about his situation. One day, after enduring another painful series of exams and therapies, he asked his mom “Do you really think God is here?” His mother replied “Of course. It’s God who helps the nurses turn you and it’s God who created the medicines and this hospital and the doctors who are working to get you better.” Later that day, a stranger passed by Travis room. Seeing him all puffed up with the burns on his face and covered with layers of sterile gauze, the stranger said “Why does God punish a child like this?” Travis shouted back – “Don’t say that. Don’t say anything bad about God. When it hurts, God cries with me.”

Travis was right. When the World Trade Towers imploded, when disasters hit, when cancer robs us of loved ones, when we see injustices around us, when children are kidnapped, women abused, people become addicted, elderly people living on fixed incomes unable to afford nutritional food or housing, God is there, giving courage to get through the devastation, the grief, the sadness, the anger … the worry.

Maybe it would be a good idea for us to be like that creature on the Mad Magazine who said: “What? Me Worry?” Maybe we could make a Worry Box and see if the things we put into it each day for six days, are still of such urgent concern on the seventh day when we re-open the Worry Box. If we do, we’ll discover that most of the things we worried about in the previous six days aren’t things we’re worried about on the seventh!

Being a Thankful People

Though marred by the events of 9-11 when the world changed and current political crises where terrorism seems to preoccupy the media and many of our thoughts, it is important that we give thanks even though the future is uncertain for our world as it was for generations before us who lived through their own terrifying ordeals.

Whatever lies ahead, we must never lose sight of the importance of being a thankful people.

A true story (author unknown), highlights this important act.

It was a gray, cold, autumn day. Following school, she sat huddled on a bench, waiting for the commuter train that would take her home. Under her arm was a lunchbox containing a sandwich that her mother had cut into six pieces and which, for some reason, she had failed to eat. As she sat there, a train came lumbering in, steam puffing from its stack, wheels grinding to a halt. There were two passenger cars behind the locomotive and then a long line of cattle cars. Soldiers jumped from the passenger cars onto the platform, cocking their guns, while an endless stream of men came out of the cattle cars. All had shaven heads. All had a blankness in their eyes.

The young girl was drawn irresistably to these men as they filed by. Opening her lunchbox, she offered the uneaten sandwiches to them. And, as they were being snatched away, she noticed a man down the line who appeared different. There was no frozen look on his face. She wanted to give him something, but the six pieces didn’t stretch far enough and the one she wanted most to have a piece – got nothing. Her eyes filled with tears. She wanted to say something to him, but she couldn’t. And then that man, as he went by, whispered to her “Thank you! Thank you!” The long gray line shuffled slowly on into obscurity, swallowed in the all encompassing fog.

The young girl returned home and recounted her experience to her mother. “It was the thank you that bothered you most, wasn’t it?” said her mother. “Oh Mama,” she cried, “He was the one who didn’t get anything, and he was the only one who said “thank you”

“I don’t think he thanked you“ her mother said. “Maybe…maybe he had prayed for a long time for a sign, something that would make sense in his upside down, horror-ridden world. You, perhaps, you were the tool God used to give him that sign. Perhaps he was thanking God.”

The more I think of it, the more impressive that incident in Holland becomes – and the more it speaks of the spirit of gratitude – of thanksgiving – that can be offered, even in the midst of great suffering.

History shows us that there are people who, in the midst of trouble as well as good times, do give thanks.

Like Henry, a farmer from a very remote area where people could only gather for worship at great intervals. On those occasions, they would witness to what God had done in their lives since the community had last assembled.

At one such meeting, Henry stood and addressed the people in halting and simple speech: “Its been a powerful difficult year out there – the fever took our eldest daughter – then my wife took ill and is still in bed – the spring wheat crop was mostly ruined by floods – and oh yes, praise God from Whom all blessings flow.”

Then Henry sat down. In the midst of his personal disasters, Henry paused and gave thanks to God. Maybe the reason Henry offered thanks to God in that difficult time was because the God Henry worshipped was very real to him. Henry trusted God.

Being thankful each day, takes discipline – especially when there are financial stresses, illness, death, family concerns, global disasters, addictions, employment uncertainties, a personal as well as global unknown future. So, how can we be thankful for our blessings in times when the world – personally and globally – seems topsy-turvey?

We might try saying “thank you” for something each day – whether big or small – “thank you” to a friend, a family member, a stranger – for a kindness expressed -“thank you” to God for the gift of life – health – freedom – clothing – food – shelter – ability to read and so forth. We might spend more time reflecting on the blessings in our life, rather than dwelling on the stresses, hurts, frustrations and on focusing more on ‘being thankful’ that ‘being resentful.’

Meister Eikhardt, the 13^th century mystic, said that if you only utter one prayer in your life, let it be “Thank you,” for that is the greatest prayer there is. Clearly he believes that thankful people are a praying people.

“Gratitude bestows reverence, allowing us to encounter everyday epiphanies, those transcendent moments of awe that change forever how we experience life and the world” wrote John Milton (1608-1674),

We, can do our bit in fighting the evil in the world. We can pray -.we can say ‘thank you’ – we can be hopeful, rather than fearful – w can be filled with hope, not fear.

May this Thanksgiving be one filled with … the aroma of gratitude … the vision of seeing the many blessings around us. No matter what our circumstances, may we have a heart filled with hope – for our world – for our families and friends – for ourselves … and a voice filled with thanksgiving!