I have never been age- appropriate, and if and when I am, I will be spiritually dead. I call my conscious lack of concern Spiritual Anti- Aging, and it works.

Recently, I was sitting in a very brilliant beautician’s chair, receiving a subtly wrapped judgment on age- appropriateness and how it didn’t jive with what I wanted. I politely moved on to the next beautician. I do not accept this artificial limit, or any other. Misery is a thing of adulthood, and to a certain extent we create it ourselves. Living in the past or fearing the future is a construction of adulthood. Limiting ourselves according to whether others approve, is something that grown-ups take on, as their lives become something they no longer control or recognize. Rob Bell calls this a crisis of wonder.

A child can grow up in very dark and dangerous circumstances and still see those small shards of light and recognize them for what they are. Heaven and joy and spirit reside in the smallest of things.

Think about the last time you felt contentment, peace and joy; the last time you felt really young and free. Was it because you finally achieved every thing on your to do list? Were there a burning bush and a choir of angels or was it the rhythm of the waves hitting the shore, running or walking out in the beauty of nature, or just a really beautiful connection you shared with someone? These moments are where wonder lives.

A child is not looking for the meaning of life, she is freely living it. I forget this daily. Sometimes this amnesia lasts years.

Recently, I went through a prolonged health crisis. I have always avoided doctors like Ebola, but I found myself seeing a parade of specialists, taking a barrage of tests and not being able to summon my typical energy level to do much of anything. I could no longer run or lift weights and these things had defined me.

During this period, something supremely annoying happened: every time I got in the car, the first song on the radio was Sara Bareilles’ Brave. Every time. This happened somewhere between 70- 100 times in a row. In the song the singer is daring and begging someone to just let the plain, unvarnished truth finally bubble out~ like a kid. It’s far kinder in the long run. Sometimes kid- honesty is shocking or politically incorrect, but it is always like inhaling a burst of fresh air after spending a week locked in a cube- farm.

I realized that, in large part, what were missing from my routine were not vitamins, or hormones, but candor and courage. I am working on this. For me, courage is not adult armor that I put on; it’s stripping down to the trust and loving bluntness of a kid.


This Spiritual Exfoliation is the way to a beautiful soul.

Youthfulness is the result of living without chains.

Art, hope, candor, courage and rejoicing are ageless. When we engage in these things, so are we.


The Secret Seductiveness of “Small”




It is almost as important to know what is not serious as to know what is.

John Kenneth Galbraith


We live in an age of screaming. We are all screaming trying to be heard. In an effort to be heard, many resort to broadcasting details as headlines. “ I am washing my hair now!!!””

This is reality; there is no point in railing against it. But, in this loud, life- or- death, virtually connected world what is an introvert like me to do? What do we have that is valuable?

The answer: more than one might expect.

When it seems that most people are talking, who is actually listening? We are.

In a world where everyone has the power to publish, tweet, post and instagram his or her every thought, grudge, twinge or yen to

millions, those who speak the loudest are competing with others who have just as much ability to yell loud. It all blends into white noise.

When everyone is flailing about to get noticed, is it possible that what actually attracts attention is:

The person who isn’t electronically screaming at you?

Someone who respects that you really don’t want to see her sex tape?

Someone who simply patiently waits until the guy who dominates every meeting has exhausted himself, and then makes reasonable suggestions?

Someone who doesn’t share his or her every opinion on everything unless actually asked?

I was at a conference this week and one of the speakers was Susan Cain, the author of Quiet and TED Talks expert on introversion. I was shocked to learn that about 1 in 3 people are introverts. That is enough people to make a difference and offer a fresh perspective in any family, company, church or community. That’s a large enough group to hear, assimilate and make sense of what everyone else is saying.

There are a rash of Naked Reality shows at the moment. Naked Dating, Naked Real Estate, Naked and Afraid. Stay with me here, because I think there is a connection between this phenomenon and the deafening level of noise. At least nakedness can’t be faked. Though weird, the naked part sparks real interactions that are authentic in their awkwardness. A naked person has no power.

The paradox of power and influence is that the small and unassuming can be more seductive and persuasive than forcefulness just because it is different. Vulnerability is more powerful than brute force if brute force is everywhere you look.

I still wish I were an extrovert every time I am in a social situation or needing to ask someone for help. My stomach would not always be in knots and I would not be nearly as familiar with the taste of my own foot. I am so envious of that effortless charm and confidence that extroverts take for granted, it compelled me to pretend to be one. I came off like an over the top used car salesman on TV.

But, even more important to me is the spiritual link to quietness and smallness. Being still and quiet enough to listen to the tiny voice within is the only way things get done in the spiritual realm. It is different for each of us, but, for me, my source and my power come from the ability to dial back the noise and tune in to the sound of the wind chimes, the cadence of my soul and the song in my heart, put there by something infinite. After all, David was small, and we all know what happened to Goliath.

blue grotto

Nothing can bring you peace but yourself.

Ralph Waldo Emerson








negligee on bedSex and Why?

This is one of those posts that you are afraid to write. I’m afraid of writing it, because I ‘m doing a dangerous thing:asking questions about sex and religion. There is no snark or controversy- courting here.

Sometimes I have answers, but this time I have nothing but questions to which I am sincerely seeking enlightenment. These questions about religion and sex have troubled me for as along as I can remember. There seems to be a disconnect.

Here we go. Ready?


WHY is sex treated as equivalent to spiritual death in so many religious interpretations?

Why is whom you love or when you love seemingly worse than whom you kill, envy, steal from or even destroy with lies and gossip? Why is the simple fact that some love at all a subject of judgment or controversy on a par with high treason?

If having sex in some situations is a sin, why do so many treat it like the absolute worse one, one punishable by death or, at least, leprosy?? Based upon what?

Why is there a hierarchy of sins at all, other than the Ten Commandments?

The Bible tells us to not fear more times than it tells us to not have sex. Isn’t it in fact, fear that leads to all the other sins? Envy, fear of not having enough or as much as the next guy, fear that he will take it away, hatred of those who are different and wars to stop them or protect ourselves from them arise from that fear. Has sex ever started a war?

Why do beautiful, healthy women with God-given sensuality dress like 1950s librarians in church or when they are with religious people? Are they afraid that someone will think that they are having sex or might want to in the future? Didn’t God give them the sensuality, the beauty and the ability to fully experience them both? Who encourages these 1950s librarians to attempt to disguise or outright kill this God- given part of themselves? Why do some Christian women feel and bow to the need to Dowdy Down?

Is it sex that we fear? Should we? It is undoubtedly powerful and sometimes not in a good way, but will attempts to ward it off like wearing garlic around one’s neck to repel a Vampire really work?

This phenomenon has always disturbed and frightened me, as a teenager, as young adult and now, as a woman married with a daughter. I don’t want her to feel like she can’t fully be her beautiful self.


Why do descriptions of the Proverbs woman sound like something I could never reach? Why do I secretly never want to reach that standard? I haven’t threshed much wheat, or sewn my own clothes on a loom lately. I can’t help but notice that she sounds more like a beast of burden than beautiful, healthy vibrant healthy radiant advertisement for a loving creator.  But, maybe it’s just me.


There was a conference I attended some time ago that echoed an author’s message of “Fear the Cage!” Amen. Isn’t the message of hiding or denigrating one’s sexuality in any way just like putting a beautiful songbird in a cage?Love_birds_in_cage


We delight in the beauty of the butterfly, but rarely admit the changes it has gone through to achieve that beauty” – Maya Angelou

Image by Ks. mini


If anyone has any answers, I’d love your thoughts.





photo 35 minutes

into a conversation to which I was only collateral damage,

weapons were drawn.

(Ghosts of mother figures at 10 paces!)

The most



                or guilt- ridden wins.

The Horror!

Ancient family underpinnings freed from

their moth-balled coffins and running the show, while the speakers merely rumbaed like marionettes

unaware the buttons being pushed

were installed decades before today

and came with a life-time factory warranty.

Witnesses turn away, run away or watch, either with the fascination reserved for the psychological profile of Lizzie Borden

or as if re- living their own drama trauma.

And the band plays on and on….

I guess our ancestors are never really gone. photo 5