I am a writer. I am many other things, but I see the world as a collection of stories meant to be told, and ultimately meant to teach. I have an insatiable curiosity about that world, and I have been compelled to find answers to the question of “Why?” ever since I was a very little girl. And although I may have challenged my Dad a time or two by my question asking when I was young, he never failed to consider each of my questions carefully, and my question asking ultimately resulted in a give and take of exploration as we discovered the answers together. And it the contemplation of life’s truths that most captivates me today.
What compels me to ask such questions? I want to know who we are. I want to know why we are here. I want to know how it all works. I want to learn the rules of life, especially the ones that are not so easy to discern. I want to know what makes us who we are. I want to know what causes us to feel deeply. I want to know what moves us, what inspires us, and what surprises us about life. I see life as a beautiful adventure; as my own personal puzzle to figure out, with me as the quintessential guinea pig, willing to experiment my way through life in order to figure out the rules.
I live life with passion, and I have a thirst to live life fully; to not waste one precious moment of the time I have been given. I have jokingly told others that when I die, I want my tombstone to read “She was used up.” Now what better epitaph is there than that?
I am not content to live life by someone else’s rules, or by someone else’s discernment, and I would never encourage anyone else to do the same. Knowledge is great. But true knowing that comes from deep experience is even greater. And I have come to discover that we seem to have arrived with the same owner’s manual. It’s just that somewhere along the way those truths that we were born knowing became replaced by mis-beliefs agreed to by the world.
This writing began with an attempt to answer the question of “Who am I?”, but I suspect I’m ending up with, “Why I am writing this blog.” Who I am – writer, curious learner, teacher – compels me to dig deep, reflect deeper, and then share my discoveries with the world. That incessant voice that lives in my head loves to tell me that I’m not so special, that I have nothing to say that anyone would want to listen to. But perhaps it is for the very reason that I’m not so special, that I’m just like everyone else, that makes me a valid commentator on life’s passages.
Who am I? I am just one more citizen of the world with a curiosity to ask the questions that many think about but perhaps can’t put into words, and a willingness to be quiet long enough to hear in response that soft and still voice that is so easy to miss. I see the world as filled with parables meant to be used to teach, by evoking in others the experience of the common humanity that we share.
Ultimately, my desire to share is a selfish one, for in the act of telling, the first person my writing always touches is me. And if others care to join me along the way, then I will be doubly blessed.
I am an ordained Interfaith minister. As part of my journey I attended a seminary program that immersed students in the faith traditions of the world, from a place of similarity, not differences. My seminary program was very experiential; that to become a spiritual leader for others meant developing a personal experience of the Divinity that we all share, learning to value the diversity of tools and practices designed to support us in getting there. And when you step away from the dogma and the theology that separates, you are left with beautiful traditions and rituals that allow the practitioner to dip into the experience of the mystery of life in ways that are felt by the heart. And it is that mystery that most intrigues me, and that motivates me to continue asking “Why?”
In my work as a minister, I perform many ceremonies honoring the transitions of life. And each ceremony delights me, as I assist individuals, couples, and families in honoring a life event. One of my favorite ceremonies to perform is a baby blessing and naming ceremony, as a community welcomes a new life into the world. In that ceremony, I often share a poem by Anne Spring, which ends with a request for us to be granted patience, strength, wisdom, and love to help this child learn to sing his or her own song. And that is my desire for each one of you. May my words help to remind you of your own passages, as you learn to sing your own songs.
Much love and many blessings,