Human to Human

In her book, Storycatcher, Christina Baldwin writes:

“Something is happening in the power and practice of story: In the midst of overwhelming noise and distraction, the voice of story is calling us to rememberer true selves.”

Christina’s book is one of my favorites. I read it sometimes for just a few minutes so that I can feel the spirit of her writing.

Christina is a person that so often inspires. From her narrative. From her insight. From her humanity. She’s one of the people that I’ve known personally that continues to be a tremendous guide and friend.

I’m in a week of writing. I’m writing stories to accompany my writing about Circle practice, principle, and nuance. So, yes, Christina inspires.

To remember. To be in joy. To love learning. To love crafting words into meaning. To catching story. To find my story posture. And live / learn from there.

On it goes.

I love the way the light reflects in this photo. From a recent flight returning from Calgary, Alberta to Salt Lake City, Utah. I love the light on the scattered clouds. I love the illumination on the distant blue sky. I love the reflection off of this wing tip. I love it because light lifts my imagination.

My friend Jeremy Nash of Poetry Tribe also loves the light. He recently shared this Mark Nepo quote below.

As light causes a flower to open,
deep listening causes the heart
to open.

It is this flowering
that pollinates the world.

Here’s to deep listening. And flowering. In the doses small or big. In the elevations low or high. And to the way that light lifts imagination in ourselves and in the groups of people we sometimes seek to guide.

This photo is one of my favorites last week from Malcolm Island. Dana and I walked in the quiet of the forest. Amongst tall Cedars. And Douglas Firs. And amongst abundant green. The shapes from among the trees have a way of coming to life with just a little attention. It’s my love of the unseen, of the mystery.

Yesterday, a younger person (in her early 20s) asked me, “Do you consider yourself a religious person? Do you consider yourself a spiritual person?”

I like it that she was asking the question. It was genuine. There’s a hunger for meaning that I see in many young people. Wanting to make sense by hearing underneath the noise.

My response was quite clear and direct. “I don’t think of myself as much of a religious person. I do thing of myself as quite a spiritual person.”

I love it that she followed up. “What do you mean by that?” Again, the hunger for meaning. Genuine.

I shared what has been true for me. A simplicity that has guided me. “I believe there is more unseen than there is seen. I believe we live in an inherent mystery. Those beliefs lead me to be quite curious. I like living with curiosity. It feels kind and helpful.”

All of the landed quite well in her. Seemed a bit relieving to be told some simple truth. Not fancy, and without need to evangelize.

Most of us are searching, right? For what makes sense. For what has integrity. For some grounding in how we contribute. To what is seen and to what is unseen. For how we welcome being moved by what is seen and what is unseen.