The Challenges of Virtual Living

Those who know me well have heard my mantra of these past few years along the lines of, "How did I end up here?"  I am an introvert and a somewhat private person - or at least until I founded AWBA and was invited into the social media realm if we wanted any opportunity to connect with all of you.  Although this land with AWBA feels very unfamiliar at times, it often feels like something I know from a very long time ago and had forgotten.  As I work to integrate my inner life and outer life, the tension of walking the fine line between Public AWBA Life and Private Judy Life has become more noticeable within me.  I am AWBA and AWBA is me.   The line is fading.  I realize that so much of leading a nonprofit is grounded in building a relationship between the organization and those being served.  This includes myself as the founder, and our board members who are very active in helping get the word out and building relationships within their own circle of influence.  The AWBA virtual community must have a sense of who we are as individuals before you trust us with your financial and in-kind donations, trust us by registering for an event, and trust us by referring people to us who you believe could be served by what we do.  

I do recognize the need to put myself out there with some degree of vulnerability through these blog posts, our Facebook page, the AWBA newsletter and other avenues of communication.  It is inviting me well beyond my safe comfort zone,  and I suspect some of you resonate with that as well.   I think at the root of all of this is getting past the initial sense that I am publicizing myself in some way.  As I follow other online, non-profit founders through their virtual world meanderings, I see deep sharing in what they post.  It always draws my attention to their personal growing edges (which is a helpful connection for me) and to their ministry to others.  It is my deepest hope as I continue to learn how to "do this" that you, as our readers, will always be drawn to what AWBA is about and to my own personal journey as it connects with your journey.  

I guess all of this is offered as preface to the fact that I went beyond my comfort zone yet again.  I have shared in prior communication about my connection to Abbey of the Arts - a virtual monastery founded by Christine Valters Paintner.  Christine has played a huge role in so many facets of my spiritual growth.   A few months ago, she asked me to write a guest post for her blog.  Although I quickly agreed to it at the time, as the deadline approached the Private Judy Life came to the forefront.  With God's help, I pushed past it and wrote in a stream of consciousness.  You can read it here.  If something in this story resonates with you, take a moment to comment on our blog by clicking the comment link below and/or by sharing a response on the Abbey's blog post.  Either will find its way to me.  I now know it was a good step to take in the midst of great discomfort.  AWBA is receiving inquiries, and additions to our newsletter list.  So, I am breathing a bit easier today :)  Take time to visit Christine's Abbey.  She offers a wonderful array of opportunities if this is something that intrigues you.  

The virtual world can be used in ways that are not helpful which, I suspect, is where the discomfort arises.  However, AWBA and many others are learning how it is used for good.  Thank you Christine for making AWBA a part of the Abbey.  Thank you Stacy Wills for posting us on your Sacred Alter Blog.  Thank you to others who share about who we are via their virtual world, and I don't necessarily know about it.  Drop me a note to let me know.  

Do you play in the rain?

Many years ago, our son gave me this card.  I love the exuberant joy that fills this child's entire body, head to toe.  The inside reads, "Soak it up.  Congratulations."  I do not recall what he was congratulating me for and, unfortunately, I did not date it.  However, I have kept it on a shelf in our family room because of the note he wrote beneath the Hallmark sentiment.  He asked me,  "Do you play in the rain?"

Although I did not intend to make my daily sunrise walks a spiritual practice,  it has become just that.  I do it because I enjoy it and, slowly, I have noticed a difference in how I am able to move through the day with greater peace and awareness of God's presence regardless of what circumstance collides with my well-planned day.  There is something to be said about a daily rhythm that begins with a simple walk through whatever force of nature greets me that morning.  The "practice" part is now becoming more apparent as the weather becomes a bit less favorable.  

I have had a few recent days that were dry but very chilly at 7:15 in the morning.  Two days last week were a bit warmer with a steady rain.  I am accumulating the necessary attire to support me in  my desire to show up, five mornings a week, regardless of the environment.   I thought of my son's question last Friday morning as I walked alone in a somewhat drenching rainfall.   My pants became wet at the ankles, my shoes approached the stage of "squishy", my right shoulder (uncovered by my umbrella) began to absorb the wet.  But I kept walking barely aware that "normal" people might not think it a good morning for a walk.  All of the fall leaves and mums are gone.  There is an abundance of wheat and copper color foliage and, in some places, bright red berries.   The coming winter brings such clarity and simplicity in the midst of a barren landscape. 

What does it mean, really, to "play in the rain"?  I have had life seasons in which there have been little sense of play.  Hard circumstances surrounded me and the concept of play, joy, and frivolity seemed well beyond reach.  It almost seems an insult to be asked that question in those times.  But, this card has served as a constant reminder.  As I walked in the rain on Friday,  I felt an answer bubbling up.  Yes, I have learned ways to allow joy and play into circumstances that would have made that choice quite a challenge a few years ago.   Then there are days when the rain is pounding and heavy.  The idea of play or taking it in stride is nearly impossible and, honestly, would seem inauthentic if I declared play as an option.

So as I walked in the rain that morning remembering summer days filled with sunshine and abundant foliage, I realized that while playing in the rain is often more possible than we think, sometimes simply showing up in the rain and putting one foot in front of the other as best we can is just enough.  

How do you play in the rain?  As we enter into this season of gratitude, perhaps it is an opportunity to find ways to say "thank you" especially on those days when your particular rainfall seems heavier than you think you can absorb.  Can you find a seed of playful hope waiting to be embraced?  And, then, there are those times when unrelenting waves of sadness pour down upon us without relief.  In those times, it seems best to simply experience it for what it is.  We reach out to a friend for support, call on God who companions us through everything, and hold out hope that we will learn how to play in that new land by showing up every morning (always beginning again) and putting one foot in front of the other.  It is my deepest prayer that AWBA can companion you in some of those places on your journey.  It is why we exist.

Falling leaves of autumn ...

Falling leaves of autumn,

with each stem that breaks,

with each layer of perishing,

you teach me what is required,

if I am to grow before I die.

~~ Joyce Rupp

It is early morning.  The sun is expected to rise in about 20 minutes.  I usually embark on a 50-minute brisk walk shortly after sunrise every morning.  But in this moment, there is a wintry mix falling in the darkness.  I know the sun will still rise, and suspect it will be well hidden from my view this morning.  I have been in my art studio for about 45 minutes with the window open.  It is a little chilly, but I want to hear the rain falling on the drying leaves.  Such a gentle sound - a whisper from God.  My studio is where I pray.  It is where I create.  It is where I journal.  It is where I wonder.  I have just begun a three-week on-line art class and we are working with falling leaves this week.  I am ready to begin painting, sketching and collaging ...

I often return to this quote by Joyce Rupp ~~ during the autumn season, certainly, and also during other times of year when there is yet another layer perishing in my always transitioning life.  If I am not mindful of the loss, I will miss the growing lesson.  I try to be mindful.

In her most recent post on Spirit of Sogetsu, Michelle Rogers shares about her own experience of releasing.  Stop by if you have not already done so.  I recognize that some people are inclined to miss the blessing of Autumn out of concern for Winter nipping at their heels (and their thermostats).  They are summer people and the change of seasons is not cheerfully anticipated.  I have come to appreciate the slowing of autumn - the afternoon light, the smell of composting leaves, and the colors previewing a coming season that further invites a slowing down for even more clarity.  

AWBA continues to work on its three-year strategic plan (near completion!).  This process has invited our board to be clear by releasing those things that seem less urgent to make space for the best of the better.  How about you?  Whether in your work, family or personal life, what might need to break away?  Is there something you have been holding onto out of habit and/or comfort even though it no longer seems to be serving you and those around you in a life-giving manner?  For those impacted by a chronic diagnosis, there is often a perpetual release of layers - often uninvited and, sometimes, unanticipated.  Learn from God's created cycle of nature.  For me, it is always a matter of trust.  Can I trust that as something breaks and falls away into the compost of my past that a deep teaching will become clear and new life will spring forth?  

SoulCollage for Hope

What a wonderful day we had yesterday!!  Our facilitator, MJ Abell, created a hope-filled altar space for us, supplied a wide variety of images from which to choose, and a gentle presence so we could create from our soul. The Worthington Hills Country Club offered a peaceful environment with attentive staff.   God provided a beautiful blue sky and warm temperatures for our journey to and from.  What more could we have asked for?

There were 14 of us cutting and gluing after an extended time of collecting more images than we could ever fit on our three cards!  Many took images home to continue this wonderful practice in our own time and space.

It was a meaningful and fun day.  AWBA  looks forward to offering this again in the future.   

What to say (and not to say) when you don't know what to say.

When I have been in places of anxiety, fear, grief,  loss, etc. due to the impact of a chronic diagnosis, it feels that almost everyone trying to support me says or does the "wrong" thing, or is so fearful of entering into my world that they become non-existent until the storm stabilizes.  At the time when we most need support, we can feel most isolated.  I know that people cannot read  my mind to know what I need.  At the same time, it is hard to find words to express what is needed.  It can be a vicious cycle.  

I have one perfect example of everything coming together in just the right way at the right time ...  

My father passed away about five years ago in the midst of one of the coldest and harshest winters in recent history.  It had been a painful season of life with a cancer diagnosis that moved quickly through my previously healthy, energetic father.  After the funeral, my husband, son and myself would be traveling about three hours from the cemetery to a restaurant near my parent's home where we would gather with a few family members that evening.  My husband and I had bought a small, weekend cottage in an area near my parents and we planned to spend the night there after dinner.  The thought of returning to our darkened cottage that had been closed up for two weeks because of the weather was almost more than I could bear.  I knew that snow would cover the walkway, no lights would be on and the temperature would be set at 50 degrees. It was either that or return to our home an hour away late at night.  Neither seemed ideal.

Having very little energy to ask for anything from anyone by that time, God gave me the words for an "ask" of a close friend who lived very near to our cottage.  I almost choked back the request because it felt too large to me at the time.  I asked if she would be willing to drive to our cottage and trudge through the snow to turn on a light and turn up the heat.  She said "yes" without a second thought. 

At the end of a very painful day, we arrived at our our cottage in the woods with its lights shining brightly.  A pathway had been cleared in the snow and the heat embraced us as we opened the front door. On the kitchen table was a beautifully wrapped basket of surprises for us -- nothing expensive, but everything that was needed in that moment.  I had not seen my friend for quite some time and, I don't believe I saw her for what a while after that.  But she and her husband were with us in Spirit.   We were deeply embraced in that moment and not alone.  I felt safe.

A friend of mine recently shared this blog link.  It is another person's response to this question.  This writer offers her perspective as one grieving the death of a parent, but I find her wisdom applicable to those living with a chronic diagnosis.  All of these resonate with me.  How could she know??  #9 is what has brought me the most pain over the years.  How about you?  Is there something you might add to this list?  If you find some or all of this helpful, you might want to adapt if for your own story and give it to those who are part of your support network.  They will likely appreciate your honesty and clarity.

One important note - Although I have traveled many journeys through this land of chronic diagnosis and grief, I know there are times I still say and do the "wrong" thing for someone else who is struggling.  Each of our stories and needs are different.  We do not know how another feels -- ever.  What worked for me will likely not work for you and I may trip over myself in my attempts at compassion.  So, offering grace to one another and to ourselves is critical.  For the many times someone's support felt wrong and anything but helpful, I have always been grateful that they tried.  Likewise, I trust that others are grateful for my sometimes misguided attempts at support. 

It seems that carrying an awareness, continuing to learn, and listening with the ear of the heart is the most important piece.  When we do that, the rest seems to fall into place and the sense of abandonment and isolation are not so heavy.

If you are in need of support, take the risk of a seemingly big ask as I did.  If there is someone who might need your support, meet their need as best you know how and go one step further.  It need not be complicated and certainly not expensive.

Prayer is vital and sometimes we need God with skin on as well ...

First PayPal, Now Facebook ...

For those who receive our monthly newsletters, you know that we recently began accepting charge payments and donations through our website utilizing PayPal.  Today, we launched our presence on Facebook.  I rely on our readers to let me know what is working for them and what is not working for them.  So, please, if you have difficulty accessing anything we do with technology, send me an email at director@myawba.org.  We are always learning and always in process.  Someone shared with me recently that one of the pages on our website could not be opened because I mistakenly attached it in "pages" format, only accessible to Mac users.  Yikes.  This page was posted last November!  I have to wonder how many people tried to open that page in the past year and could not do so. So, don't be shy about offering suggestions to make this site more user friendly and helpful.

If you are on Facebook, be sure to "like us."  We will get this button on our website in the near future.  As we see how this is being utilized, we will increase our posting activity.  I recognize that not everyone is on Facebook, so rest assured that we will continue to make full use of this blog, our website and our monthly newsletters to keep you informed.

When the Comforter Needs Comforting

As AWBA expands its virtual community through the power of the Internet, we grow with supporters and kindred spirits who share their personal stories, inspirational quotes, websites, blogs, etc.  I try to pass along as much of this goodness as possible.

One of our supporters, Julia, has been part of the AWBA family since the beginning and is one such kindred spirit.   Periodically, I receive an email from her that lifts my spirit as I am reminded there are people all over the world who are impacted by what we are about.  Julia is a caregiver and she shared with me recently, 

I came across this article today written for caregivers.  It speaks of the loneliness of when caregivers find themselves in the place of needing comfort themselves, and long for the care they themselves have poured out.  It resonated deeply with my own heart and experience, and I felt seen, heard and understood as the words washed over me.  I wanted to pass it on to you as a resource.  (click this link) For the Comforter 


My deepest gratitude to Julia for sharing her story and this particular blog post, and to Tanya Marlow and her blog link posted above.  As one who offers care as friend, family member,  Stephen Minister, chaplain, health care worker, social worker, clergy, etc. do you seek out comfort when you need it?  It can be hard to ask for support when others are "struggling so much more than I am."  It can be hard to even realize how weary you may be.  Having traveled this painful journey of compassion fatigue in my own life, I understand how subtly this comes about.    I resonate with Tanya's blog image shared above.  A man or woman with the gifts of compassion and mercy often gives the outward appearance of one who is sturdy, capable, and carrying a bottomless well of support for others who are struggling.  Then, at the end of the day or in the middle of the night, tears come unsure of who is ready to listen to the deep sadness and overwhelmingness as we prepare to do it all over again the next day.

What has been your experience with this?  Like my friend Julia, do you feel seen, heard and understood in these words or in this image?  Is there a comforter in your life who might need a word of support or a kindness to acknowledge their ministry of providing care?

For those who comfort, may you receive God's blessings of love, nurture and care in the darkest of your moments of supporting and offering care to another.  AWBA hears you.