Category: Soul

Stream of Consciousness

elaine gantz wright2 Comments

teardropI am a seeker ― with far more questions than answers, and in recent days, my queries have been dramatically outnumbering my explanations.  Fortunately, in the past decade, my lifelong spiritual quest has led me to the sagacious sphere of one Dr. Joe Clifford.  And that’s why I pen this post today.  Alas, I am struggling with his recent announcement that he and his family will be leaving our frazzled city in less than a month. Intellectually, I know this sadness will pass, and Dallas/#DallasStrong will persevere somehow, but I still feel an overwhelming sense of  loss.

References to Joe’s canny wisdom and his super-human pastoral care shimmer across the pages of my blog like freshly cut gems.  Since 2009, the content I have crafted here has included both professional and personal musings ― more like a meandering stream of consciousness than a stake in the ground, but these ideas started spilling forth way before Twitter was cool and Snap even considered Chatting.  And, this stream has definitely ebbed and flowed . . .

Now, thinking about the soul-rattling events of recent weeks and days, my own profound healing journey over the past seven years, and Joe’s impending departure, I can’t help but recall one of the first posts I was ever inspired to write. It was about a “Joe sermon.”  And several years later, I actually had the good fortune to do some “official” blog writing for First Presbyterian Church ― helping amplify the impact of Joe’s insights and the Word of God.  A career highlight and honor. 

An excerpt from that April 2009 post:

Joe has an extraordinary capacity to inform and enrich my path in ways that are difficult to articulate. Today was an excellent example. He talked about the celebration of Easter wearing off as we entered a week punctuated by the bleakness of tax day, difficult professional challenges ― real life, etc. Then, he said a friend forwarded him the Susan Boyle link on Wed ― the astonishing performance of the unassuming 47-year-old on Britain’s Got Talent, who has captured the world’s imagination. He says he does not have time for all the forwarded email he receives, but he opened this one for some reason.

He said he wept ― and he asked the congregation how many of us had seen it and wept. Most of those present raised their hands. He went on to describe theologian Frederick Buechner‘s take on the origin of these tears. I now cannot get enough Buechner. He ponders:

How do you listen to your life? How do you get into the habit of doing it? How do you keep ears cocked and your eye peeled for the presence of God or the presence of anything else? One thing I have said, which I think is true, is to pay attention to any of those moments in your life when unexpected tears come in your eyes. You never know when that may happen, what may trigger them. Very often I think if you pay attention to those moments, you realize that something deep beneath the surface of who you are, something deep beneath the surface of the world, is trying to speak to you about who you are . . .

They are not only telling you something about the secret of who you are. More often than not, God is speaking to you through them of the mystery of where you have come from and summoning you to where you should go to next.

Joe said we have a profound, spiritual reaction to joy ― to God. And it’s not enough to experience the moment ― we must use it as a way to discover our own life’s calling, what God has called us to do and be.

The world is hurting ― facing daunting challenges. I believe we are called to pay attention, be vigilant in our consciousness, and bare our hearts. Thank you for helping us do all of those things along the way, Joe.  Godspeed to you and your family . . .  with a smile and a tear.

This may not be Susan Boyle, but it’s a moment ― for now.

Bedazzle Your Audience with the 5 Cs

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“If you know your character’s thoughts, the proper vocal and bodily expressions will naturally follow.”  – Constantin Stanislavski

diamondSeveral years ago, I wrote about the 4 Cs of communication. Today, I am reposting the blog but adding a fifth important C― Consciousness. Remembering the 5 Cs can help us build a multi-dimensional clutter-cutting content communication plan.

Consciousness – Much has been written about the importance of staying present. This applies to your personal world and the message you are building.  In many cases, this involves hard work to find the clarity and sense of authenticity about who you are and what you really want to create ― without getting derailed by distraction and fear.  We are a culture of distractions.  From texting while driving to divorce, the evidence is irrefutable. Humans  have difficulty staying in the moment. Add to that the powerful concepts of quantum theory, and the challenge magnifies. Dr. Joe Dispenza states in his provocative book, “Breaking the Habit of Being Yourself,” “In the present, all potentials exist simultaneously in the field. When we stay present, when we are ‘in the moment,’ we can move beyond space and time, and we can make any one of those potentials a reality.” When we are mired in the past, however, none of those new potentials exist.”  Now, that is some high-octane content!

Content – Share only the highest quality content. Whether email, website, blog, whitepaper or app, make it sizzle. Consider experimenting with video on your website.  Use your Smartphone. You do not need to be Steven Spielberg. Try mobile apps, webinars, or even a luscious, visual feast on Pinterest. Feature video testimonials from customers, employees, partners, or even vendors. Fundamentally, social media is about telling stories—those tantalizing tidbits of truth that trigger action.  But the real challenge is this: “The medium is (still) the message,” as Marshall McLuhan said more than a half century ago.   How we interact with content can be just as (if not more) meaningful than the content itself.  That is why we need to me crystal clear about who we are, what we stand for, and what we are communicating to our audiences.

Community – Social media gives you the power to spread information quickly. But the irony here is that you have to let go. “Let it be,” as a wise dude once said. You don’t have to vet and control ever single word or comment.  Granted, issuing calls to action online on social media platforms can spark viral campaigns rapidly, economically, and effectively– but it’s often serendipity.  And, how cool is that? As NYU new media professor Clay Shirky observes, “Now, many can talk to many, as opposed to one talking to one — or one talking to many.” The chain reaction that results can be potent and powerful. We need to pay attention.

Culture – Just as everyone in a healthy organization is a salesperson, everyone in your enterprise should exercise a social media voice.  Weave the behavior into the communications fabric and expectation of your operation. It’s all part of outrageously good customer service, anyway. Make engaging on Facebook about your products the norm – rather than the exception. Make promotions and projecting personality a priority – in your store, via text, online and everywhere.  Make it part of your customer banter and all your in-person relationships. Work from the inside out. Hey, put the social in social media, and watch the referrals flow. Coach your staff to manage your business’ presence in an authentic and personal way online. Employees are built-in ambassadors. Give them guidelines. Train them–and deploy them first!

Character – Finally, social media is your opportunity to put a face on your organization and to humanize your brand.  Optimize your own, unique corporate back story. Transparency is a powerful differentiator, my friend—in addition to being highly seductive in our post-modern, reality-TV-obsessed world.   Think about ways to make the private public. This is the new “intimacy of commerce” that will effectively distract, attract and embrace your audience. As Constantin Stanislavski, the great acting coach once said, “If you know your character’s thoughts, the proper vocal and bodily expressions will naturally follow.”

Ready for your close-up?

 

Angels

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angels2It’s Christmas, again.  So, what have we done?  Seems the years are barreling by more rapidly than ever. Hyperspeed.  With the death of my father this year, the passing of my mother two years ago,  my youngest turning 18, and other major personal epiphanies this year, the reality of time has been a central theme.

That’s why I  bought myself a special gift this year — Mary Oliver’s new book of poems — “Blue Horses.” It’s exquisite.  I find the purity and simplicity of Oliver’s intimate observations of nature and everyday wonder so profoundly moving. Perfect for a day like today — which celebrates our core, spiritual connection to the Divine or Source  — no matter what our definition of faith.

It’s all about authentic connection — whether to self or others, right? So, a gift for you . . .

ANGELS

You might see an angel anytime

and anywhere. Of course you have

to open your eyes to a kind of

second level, but it’s not really

hard. The whole business of

what’s reality and what isn’t has

never been solved and probably

never will be. So I don’t care to

be too definite about anything.

I have a lot of edges called Perhaps

and almost nothing you can call

Certainty. For myself, but not

for other people. That’s a place

you just can’t get into, not

entirely anyway, other people’s

heads.

I’ll just leave you with this.

I don’t care how many angels can

dance on the head of a pin. It’s

enough to know that for some people

they exist, and they dance.

-Mary Oliver

Happy Christmas and 2015!

Believe Them.

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angelou2“When people show you who they are, believe them.”
~Maya Angelou

This is one of my favorite quotes from the remarkable Maya Angelou.  She expressed so many ideas and notions of the heart with such raw eloquence and clarity. As one who has struggled with clouded filters in my life, this resonates deeply.

Live in authenticity—not to satisfy the expectations of others, nor the perceived expectations of anyone else.  It also means resisting the impulse to change, cajole, alter—or otherwise attempt to “fix” another.  Peacefully release and allow . . .  others to walk their own divine paths.  Easier said than done, right? Instead, you may simply choose a different reality.  Fighting or feeling dismayed gives the recipient of that energy power.  Taking a different path alleviates so much stress and pain.

It is such an essential lesson for productivity, sanity and happiness. And at the core of this awareness is mindfulness.  Marsha Linehan, a noted American psychologist and author, created Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT) around this philosophy. It’s a powerful form of psychotherapy that actually combines behavioral science and brain theory with Buddhism  tenets—acceptance, meditation and mindfulness.

In the spirit of our dear Dr. Angelou, who touched so many, we can all seek this state of inner peace and mindfulness—to communicate in truth—internally and externally. To believe in the veracity of what is.  But we cannot if we are not clear— about who we are and how we feel.   This, indeed, is the journey.  In lieu of a mindfulness retreat or a series of therapy sessions with Dr. Linehan, here are a few ways to get a dose of this mindfulness practice:

  • Focus on one thing at a time

Try giving up multitasking occasionally. It exacerbates stress and states of confusion. Handle one thing and one thing only—mindfully in the moment.  Step away from the phone.

  • Do what works

You do not always have to be right— make a statement, issue and edict, or win the war. Don’t cut off your nose despite your face. Think twice before you send that blazing email copying the president.

  • Set achievable goals

Set aside the BHAGS for a while (the big, hairy, audacious goals – as a former boss used to call them).  Focus on the attainable ones. Give yourself some wins!

  • Nurture friends, connections, and support

Build a network. Connections are so important. They give you strength and a soft place to land when you run out of steam and your resources dwindle.  YOU don’t have to be everything to everyone.

  • Exercise

Keep moving. Reduce your physical vulnerability. You know about this one already.

  • Be grateful

Find something to be grateful for every day. It multiplies (even at work).

There are more, but this is a great place to start. Until we understand exactly who we are and how we process stimuli, many of our reactions will be wildcards. This takes work, because so much of our communication is conducted on autopilot—hardwired and subconscious. There are no easy answers, but if we are mindful of our issues, we can begin asking better questions . . . What do you think?

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Letting Go.

elaine gantz wright1 Comment

Roses_3_1.0

“Faith consists in believing what reason cannot.”  

– Voltaire

On Saturday, we honored the memory of Everett E. Gantz Jr. with a quiet, traditional Episcopal memorial service.  After nearly 89 years on this earth, my father was still an enigma to many— and to me in many ways. Few truly knew the man behind the stoic, Midwestern-chiseled facade— and the charismatic artist/wife of more than 50 years.  Thankfully, my dear sister Melissa gave a lovely, instructive “reflection” that filled gaps and hearts.

The loss is palpable—and beginning with my mother’s devastating stroke in January 2010, the grieving process has been a lingering one.

Plus, as a single, working mother of two growing boys, remembering to “put the oxygen mask on first” is a constant effort—and a daily focus of my mindfulness practice. However, I am certainly no role model for the “sandwich generation,” and I guarantee you that I still get tangled up in the roughage, as it were.  Still, I have come to understand that the frustrating stubbornness and vitriol I have encountered on “both sides of the bun” often mask the poignant vulnerabilities that quite frequently melt my heart.

Mastin Kipp, one of my favorite daily inspirational mentors, says, “When you let go and admit it, accept that you have moments of being a mess, and you share that feeling at times with the rest of us, then you can step into a larger, freer life.”

So, with another Mother’s Day behind us and a new normal dawning, I have revisited something I wrote several years ago for my mom:

Letting go.

No need to give to feel anymore.

Her bare spirit shines — less the veneer.
Without speech, without talk
Now real.

Transcending words.
The essence of her soul.
Awareness without comprehension,
Cognition, no.

She looks at me finally – and actually sees.

Letting go of need.
Content to be.
Helpless though.
Fights her wheeled prison.
Her body knows now
To bridge the chasm.

There between this Scylla and Charybdis.

And yet he still clings.
Together alone.
Denies to suppress — but never go home.

Letting go of control.
But the seizures defy
The years and the secrets
He insists to know why.

Anger. Passion. Pain.

A stone cold wall.
What a loss — so far.
Tear us apart and we fall.

Oh, to let love  . .  .

So, letting go.

–Elaine

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Remembering Ann Cushing Gantz

elaine gantz wright2 Comments

Ann Cushing GantzIt’s difficult to believe my mom left this earth one year ago today–after a long struggle with the aftermath of a devastating stroke. No matter how difficult the journey, life is never really the same after your mother has left your world. Remembering you today, Mom. Once again, here is the poem you asked that we read at your funeral . . . and another from me.  Love, e.

When Earth’s Last Picture Is Painted
By Rudyard Kipling

When Earth’s last picture is painted
And the tubes are twisted and dried
When the oldest colors have faded
And the youngest critic has died
We shall rest, and faith, we shall need it
Lie down for an aeon or two
‘Till the Master of all good workmen
Shall put us to work anew
And those that were good shall be happy
They’ll sit in a golden chair
They’ll splash at a ten league canvas
With brushes of comet’s hair
They’ll find real saints to draw from
Magdalene, Peter, and Paul
They’ll work for an age at a sitting
And never be tired at all.
And only the Master shall praise us.
And only the Master shall blame.
And no one will work for the money.
No one will work for the fame.
But each for the joy of the working,
And each, in his separate star,
Will draw the thing as he sees it.
For the God of things as they are!

Love After Life 
By Elaine

Transition always in motion,
summer and fall down again.
The cycle as soothing as lotion
on her translucent lavender skin

Fractured yet still—unbroken,
such loss we will bemoan.
But it is not all forgotten.
I go forward in faith alone.

The newness of year’s end beckons
To lead my discoveries of soul
On a journey measured in seconds—
Peace on purpose—to be whole.
I’m not sure how to rest amidst
the shadow of death’s raw glare
All I see is a thready wisp
Of a memory on gossamer air.

I will follow the lead of my truest heart
Unfold what is next without fear.
Not a nod to the doubts of others—
only to what is genuine and clear.

Remembering . . .

there is enough time to heal—
a moment and forever to be
to find the truth of all we feel—
in life’s relentless ubiquity.

Finding Myself in the Pickle: The Intersection of Art, Spirituality and Nature

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ElaineGantzWright Jewelry

You’ve heard the familiar adage, “the devil is in the details.” Well, last week, I experienced quite the opposite—the yin to that yang—as so often occurs with such idioms. Truth is, I discovered the Divine in the details. Last weekend, I had the opportunity to attend Art @ Mo—a rejuvenating week combining spirituality and fellowship with a healthy helping of creative nourishment—all served up in the midst of the most idyllic scenery Texas has to offer. It was a confluence beyond compare. How fortunate I was to spend five days of serenity and regeneration in the cradle of the majestic Texas Hill Country outside of San Antonio.

I have been to Mo Ranch more times than I can count— with and without my boys, but this year was a completely different experience. I allowed myself to focus completely and unapologetically on the art of jewelry-making, and I’m not just talking about stringing some purple beads and tying a knot (which I have been known to do and to enjoy). This was the real deal, the artisan craft, and I never knew how liberating and captivating such a pursuit could be.

It involved intense study of the painstaking steps and discipline required to make metal jewelry from concept to creation—using fine materials, such as copper, agate, abalone, amethyst, and the like. In addition to producing some wonderful pieces under the tutelage of master jeweler Jean Cofer, I learned some lessons that have given me insight and even a sense of peace and enlightenment in my life as a whole. This brings me to—the pickle.

Pickle is the solution used during jewelry construction to clean away the oxides, imperfections, and discolorations that occur during the prep and soldering process. (I will describe this in greater detail in a moment.) It’s kind of a noxious brew of hydrochloric acid and water heated in crock pot or “cauldron.” It’ll take your skin right off, but damn, it makes gorgeous jewelry!!

As neophytes, needless to say, we mostly treated the pickle with great respect. Even using the wrong implement, such as aluminum tweezers, could cause a chemical reaction and contaminate it instantly. We were careful to use wooden dowels or copper tweezers. One brazen classmate threw an old door knob or something in the pickle one day, and the cloud of foul, sulfur-smelling gas that enveloped the room required our immediate evacuation. Jewelry-making is not for the timid! Of course, sometimes you may decide you want the earthy patina that only contaminated pickle can deliver. Then, it’s more about the art than the science.

ElaineGantzWright Jewelry Design

Soldering: The Beauty of the Dark Side

I’ve always wanted to learn to solder — the process of joining metal using an alloy designed to melt at a temperature lower than the metal base. Both pieces must be heated simultaneously until the solder melts. Upon cooling, the solder solidifies to form a firm, lasting joint. The levels of solder are termed extra easy, easy, medium. and hard—depending on their melting points. Typically, they are used in reverse progression on a given piece. It gets pretty complicated.

Then, you actually use a gas blowtorch that you ignite with a bang and flourish on top of a brick. (That’s pretty fun.) You can use a small piece of screen perched atop a six-inch-tall, three-legged stand to perform what’s called a “sweat” solder. And boy, it’s hot. I find soldering truly a mystical, hypnotic process as you wave the glowing torch in back and fort and in a rotating motion over your work — waiting for the glisten of the shiny silver alloy to “pop” and ooze. Thinking of that Scottish play, “Bubble, bubble toil and trouble . . . ” kind of an everyday alchemy.

You heat your carefully wrought jewel one step at a time—avoiding over-heating and/or complete incineration but cajoling and coaxing in carefully and gingerly to “flow.” Jean, our wonderful teacher, demonstrated how to almost caress the piece of jewelry with the flame and “fluff it” just enough to achieve the desired response at the appropriate moment. The irony is that the pendant, ring or bracelet turns the blackest black, literally soot-encrusted and then seems to almost undulate with rainbow waves of color rolling and rippling across the once-shiny surface. Magic.

In addition to the mesmerizing beauty of it all, the process struck me as such a basic metaphor for life’s challenges—the reality of going through the most intense heat, pain and darkness to transform into a beautiful, bright work of art. Even the terms to describe the different types of solder fit the analogy – sometimes it’s “easy,” even “extra easy” to stay “in flow,” and sometimes it’s pretty “hard,” and we get stuck. So, we start all over again.

The key learning for me was that every step is essential. No skipping this or that to speed up the process for us impatient, big-picture types. Trust the process. Hmmm . . . Seems I’ve heard that one before. This was the spiritual gateway for me –where I was able to leave behind all the “recent character-building” experiences of my Dallas life and find a renewed sense of feeling centered and at peace. The Zen of soldering, indeed. Each step is a piece of the puzzle.

Like “flux” – the substance you must always use in soldering to facilitate the flow and the bond. Now, that is poetry right there. It’s all about the steps and sequencing. Very instructive stuff on my latest enlightenment journey.

Plus, I walked away with treasures I am proud to own and wear—along with memories of laughter and song. Win-win-win.

Next up: Annealing and Praying . . . don’t you love it?

Penetrating Thin Places

elaine gantz wright8 Comments

“Pain that we cannot forget falls drop by drop upon the heart and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom through the awful grace of God.”

– Aeschylus

I’m writing about something different today.  Since my mother’s death, I’ve been thinking about thin places.

“Where Heaven and Earth Come Closer” was the headline of a New York Times article from earlier this year.  The writer highlighted divinely infused places near and far–but added that they need not always be sacred in nature.  One might find an airport, a bar, or your front porch at sunset just as soul inspiring as the Blue Mosque in Istanbul or St. Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City.

In fact, he held that such significant places may even contain “the confluence of the sacred and the profane”—such as Jerusalem, for instance, combining the timeless profundity of the divine with the historical weight of unending conflict.  And Weiner added, “Getting to a thin place usually requires a bit of sweat. One does not typically hop in a taxi to a thin place, but sometimes you can.”

While I agree with the sweat-equity notion, the actual voyage required can vary significantly—depending on the measure of time, physical distance, heart, mind or soul required.  I have written about the phenomenon of locations as thin places in the past – Mo Ranch and Montreat, the locales that Presbyterians revere so passionately.  Mo Ranch is nestled deep in the heart of the Texas Hill Country on the Guadalupe river and requires  many, many hours in a car (a particularly lengthy trip when traveled with a rambunctious collection of adolescent boys.) And Montreat is cradled in the lush, majestic Black mountains in North Carolina’s remotest wilderness.

Yet in recent months, the thin places I have experienced have been characterized less by place and more by spirit. Curiously, they have been almost ubiquitous—those mystical portals to the realm of the soul—where the gossamer veil that separates us from our Source feels more permeable somehow.

These are places where God’s presence is palpable.

I believe I have been encountering this phenomenon with increased frequency—not because there are more around me—but because I have been graced with their recognition as a means of comfort through an extraordinarily difficult time in my life.

The priest who officiated at my mother’s memorial service in August referenced “a thin place” as he endeavored to placate my family in the poignant moments prior to stepping into the St. Michael’s and All Angels Chapel, where my mother’s public waited.  Father Kevin Huddleston framed it in almost Spielberg-esque  terms—as if we might notice the stained glass windows behind the altar dissolving into a hazy image of heaven—thus providing a glimpse of my mother’s welcome release from pain and earthly struggle as she crossed to the other side.

I deeply appreciate the concept of thin places, but ironically, they have a cumulative weight.

But now I know—the thinnest places of all are not on a hill, in a river, or in church building. They are not behind a stained glass window or on a beach. Don’t get me wrong. These can be small pockets of heaven—true glimpses of the divine creation. But, I now know the thinnest places we can know are in the heart.

Somehow, for most of my 50+ years, I lacked the heart connection I so yearned for with my mother and father. There are many reasons and circumstances around this reality, but they are in the past. This makes the bittersweet gift I received during the last few weeks of my mother’s life even more precious and meaningful.  I literally felt the hand of God in our interactions. Undeniable and visceral. Though her stroke completely destroyed the brain cells responsible for her speech, cognition and movement, she was able to make noises, cast her gaze and react—caught in a physical prison offering few options for more than two and a half years. In the moment with my mom, her state was simultaneously devastating and sublime to witness—truly the confluence of the sacred and profane.

It was pure, raw, authentic spirit– unfettered by any conscious understanding of her paralyzed confinement in a wheelchair. Her essence seemed to transcend her circumstances—the angry bed sores, deep purple bruises and expanding edema that rendered her atrophied limbs almost unrecognizable. Even with the misfiring synapses and unpredictable responses, her heart and soul were discernible.  She could not be squelched or muted. Her life force burst out through her eyes and enlivened her playful, coquettish smile. She reached out to me in a way she never had—expressing volumes in a simple squeeze of her hand.

Swollen, paralyzed, aphasic, and racked with by infection in those final days, my mom was unable to comprehend the world around her in conventional ways. But I was certain I was seeing her soul. My eyes would well with tears as I acknowledged the holy privilege of witnessing my her pure spirit – her unvarnished, unadorned, raw being – her Divinity.

What is this heart connection—this exquisite vulnerability that defies description? It is the unique imperative of our being, and yet, it eludes so many of us in our lives. Who are we – beneath the words, languages, thoughts, and unconscious programming? Who are we behind the artifice of the person we think we are, the person we feel we need to be or the person who we want to be? So often, we seem to allow our fears and the perceptions of  others define us—obscuring who we are at the very core. What a remarkable sight to have seen.

It’s nothing short of a miracle – this very thinnest of places, this glimpse of eternity.