On dreams and door knobs

Door knob downtown Apalachicola, FL

“Not knowing when the dawn will come I open every door.”

Emily Dickinson

“Open the door.”

In the smudgy first seconds of the day, where eyes are still closed and dreams are still open, I heard my husband say, “Open the door.”

This is odd because I live in home where so often doors are opened for me. R is a Southern gentleman through and through, including soft-spoken, “Yes Ma’ms” and “No Sirs” and opening doors for women.  He doesn’t believe I’m helpless; it’s his way of showing respect.  The truth is between R and the four young men Brillants, The Girl and I rarely ever touch a door knob.

Purple door downtown Apalachicola, FL

A door knob.  The place of ACTIVATION.

It has become my EXPECTATION that doors will open for me.

This action {or lack of action} seeps into my spiritual expectations.  When I look at my life and how PATH has opened and closed, I realize that I have in many ways stopped opening my own doors.  This aligns beautifully with the spiritual practice of WAITING.

“Wait on the Spirit to lead.”

“Trust God.”

“Open your hand.”

“Let go of ego.”

But I wonder.  When am I supposed {if ever} to grab a hold of a door knob and turn it.

To swing a door wide open and Enter In.

By |2016-10-19T14:20:33-04:00February 8th, 2012|Honestly|4 Comments

When Grief & Hope hold hands


“Man, when he does not grieve, hardly exists.”

Antonio Porchia, Voces, 1943, translated from Spanish by W.S. Merwin

Sometimes good men die on sunny days.  Bright blue skies and fluffy clouds are forever tied to both 9/11 and the day my daddy died.  While it doesn’t seem fair or right, I have a deep faith that allows grief and hope to hold hands.  Hiked up Stone Mountain today to be closer to the clouds and memories.

By |2016-10-19T14:20:33-04:00September 11th, 2011|Honestly|3 Comments