June 7, 2015
Harbors of Grace
by Molly Davis
A dear friend is moving to a town in Maryland named Havre de Grace….Harbor of Grace. It is a perfectly named town for her new home, as she is a grandmother raising one of her beloved granddaughters who, without the need for any shared details, has found in her grandmother’s love and devotion, a harbor of grace in which to live for a few short years. As a card I recently read said, “A ship in a harbor is safe. But that is not what ships are made for.”…..We are not meant to live in the safe waters of a harbor forever either. But, we all have need of shelter in our storms. Ours is to know when to seek the safety of a harbor, and when to provide that for someone else in need.
My best friend Kristine’s almost 90 year old momma, Darlene, passed away yesterday. During the days and hours and moments before she left us, harbors of grace showed up everywhere. Read the rest of this entry »
March 23, 2015
The words you speak become the house you live in. Hafiz
The house we built started out on a napkin in the bar at Paradise Lodge in the shadow of Mt. Rainier. We were on our way back from dropping the last daughter off at college, and I needed a distraction to keep from thinking about our nest that was now empty. Over a glass of wine my husband and I began to imagine a new nest. A rustic home that we imagined would become a gathering place for those we loved. Eight years later, what we imagined on a napkin now sits firmly grounded in the shadow of Mt. Adams, gathering those we love as often as we can all manage. What we imagined began as thoughts, the thoughts became the words that found our builder, who ordered the supplies that became our home. One board at a time, nail by nail, our house was built, upon the foundation of our thoughts, imagination and words.
March 13, 2015
Photo by Tom Pierson
What if there are teachers all around us?
Ann Lamott reminds us that perhaps for the time we have here, we are enrolled in what she refers to as ” Earth School”.
Perhaps some teachers are more apparent than others, but I am wondering if that has more to do with my awareness and willingness to notice rather than the teacher’s willingness to appear. Read the rest of this entry »
February 23, 2015
Who hasn’t felt that way at one time or another? Everyone gets it. No one likes it. We all know that feeling of being stuck, unable to get out, hemmed in, trapped. There are times when we find ourselves trapped between a rock and a hard place, and when we do, our first reaction is usually to try to get out. Now! Alarm sets in and the flailing begins, as we look for any and every way out of the place in which we are wedged.
October 30, 2014
We are beginning to engage more in our Matters That Matter work including a couple of writing projects that have us inspired and energized, speaking and scheduling workshops… and we also are beginning to post regularly on our blog (about once a week). Our intent is simply to offer encouragement and support for readers to connect more closely with what and who they care about, and live more closely in synch with their most genuine selves.
If you are like us, there is so much “incoming” – information, blogs, emails, videos, social networking etc etc… so we are working to provide content that will support and encourage, not burden. We would love for you to subscribe to our blog and add to the conversation as you feel led. Together we are better. Share it with others if you find that it will benefit them as well. And if this sounds like one more thing to add to your to-do list… then hit delete asap with our blessings!
Thank you for letting us even ask.
With gratitude and blessings.
Molly & Kristine
February 24, 2011
Being vulnerable can be terrifying. We’ve all presented our vulnerable selves at one time or another and been met with judgment and ridicule. Next time we considered being vulnerable we paused a bit, predicted the outcome. Then maybe chose to withhold…protecting ourselves and sheltering our tenderness.
The ability to be vulnerable again often comes from having held on to too much pain …simply no more room. Or, “we’re mad as hell and we aren’t gonna take it any longer.” Or, the knowledge that we are part of a mighty whole and that sharing our soft spots might help someone else to exercise their strengths.
Today I am so moved by a dear friend who did just that. She used her own unfathomable grief to shed light on the darkness that so many carry. Her vulnerability allowed others to know that they are not alone, that their pain and loss matter. By telling her story she brought gentleness and celebration where there can often be secrets and denial.
A common thread thoughtfully exposed connects us as human beings, therefore connecting us to our own humanity.
YOU MIGHT WANT TO SIT DOWN FOR THIS ONE
July 15, 2010
Friends and readers…a while back I asked women to send me the one word that best described their feelings of SELF at this mid stage of life. The most common word I received was INVISIBLE. We need to corporately change this notion. Women are nurturing, compassionate, reliable. We have an innate understanding of cooperation, grace and tolerance. The world is dying for the very essence of what it means to be a woman. A dear friend and amazing talent sent me the following. Prepare to be inspired.
I never felt unheard, or ignored. I’ve always had a roar inside me, and I’ve not been afraid to make it known. During my current mid-life experience, I often have moments which I believe are true epiphanies – moments when I really ‘get it.’ People tend to over complicate issues, relationships and our life experiences instead of just ‘being.’ I always remember my French lessons, and the term ‘être’ – the most important verb, meaning “to be.”
My desire for invisibility stems from interactions I have with people that just don’t get it. I feel frustration about trivialities that are made into huge issues. No point. I prefer to detach myself from this, and just observe. Really, more often than not, I would rather simply read a book, or write in a journal, if given a choice.
Life is fleeting, and every moment must count. Effort is often needed; sometimes there are big things that must be attended to and handled with care and concern. Real issues. It is the nonsense that is overwhelming, and the fact that one’s insight may often be totally disregarded. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, and it doesn’t matter if you are 16, 25, 46, 60 or 80 years old. The true tragedy is that life passes so quickly, and time is so intangible. In the world we live in, everything is intangible.
It’s easier to email than to pick up a telephone or visit someone; digital pictures can be lost forever with a computer malfunction. Entertainment has morphed into reality TV – essentially spying on someone’s false life – talent is ignored, people no longer need to create. Music is played on guitar hero, rather than with a guitar in hand and working out a tune.
My solution to this madness is to become invisible to the falseness to which we are now conditioned, to march truly to the beat of my own drum. Not worrying about conforming to someone else’s ideas or expectations, but just to be. Être.
Give me that cloak!
July 11, 2010
June 18, 2010
What is it about women? Those who see hurt and lend a hand…those who see pain and lend a shoulder, those who see possibility and commit to a cherished outcome? Where do they come from? How do they know that there is enough for everyone and thrive in generosity?I am surrounded by those women and inspired.
April 19, 2010
Long ago, we decided that when we saw beauty in anyone or anything we would notice it and appreciate it. Every time we see a woman with lovely eyes, beautiful skin, a kind heart or gentle spirit shared with the world, we speak our appreciation to that person.
Those few words of goodness can change the course of the day for the waitress serving us breakfast, the grocery clerk packing our bags or the exhausted receptionist checking us in for our doctor’s appointment. We have come to understand that everyone is blessed with their own unique kind of beauty, and once we make the choice to not only see it, but appreciate it, we find ourselves surrounded by the miraculous in the midst of the ordinary. And, the most astounding insight has been that when we choose to extend goodness in the midst of this imperfect world, we receive that goodness back in abundance.
Where might you see beauty in the midst of your day? To whom could you extend goodness, and in the extending, receive in abundance?
April 14, 2010
“When we are mindful, we notice that another person suffers. The other person may be a husband, a wife, or a child. If one person suffers, that person needs to talk to someone in order to get relief. We have to offer our presence, and we have to listen deeply to the other person who is suffering. That is the practice of love–deep listening. But if we are full of anger, irritation, and prejudices, we don’t have the capacity to listen deeply to the people we love. If people we love cannot communicate with us, then they will suffer more. Learning how to listen deeply is our responsibility. We are motivated by the desire to relieve suffering. That is why we listen. We need to listen with all our heart, without intention to judge, condemn, or criticize. And if we listen in that way for one hour, we are practicing true love. We don’t have to say anything; we just need to listen. “The essence of love and compassion is understanding, the ability to recognize the physical, material, and psychological suffering of others, to put ourselves “inside the skin” of the other. When we are in contact with another’s suffering, a feeling of compassion is born in us. Compassion means literally “to suffer with.” –Thich Nhat Hanh
April 14, 2010
And waste my heart on fear no more.”
April 7, 2010
art by lisa kaser, www.lisakaser.com
March 29, 2010
Like trains of cars on tracks of plush
I hear the level bee:
A jar across the flowers goes,
Their velvet masonry
Withstands until the sweet assault
Their chivalry consumes,
While he, victorious, tilts away
To vanquish other blooms.
His feet are shod with gauze,
His helmet is of gold;
His breast, a single onyx
With chrysoprase, inlaid.
His labor is a chant,
His idleness a tune;
Oh, for a bee’s experience
Of clovers and of noon!