There are things you want to be doing with your life. There are adventures to be had, projects you’d love to dive into, and people you want to have time for. You want room to breathe, to think, to play.

Yet, there it is. The stuff in your home, the paper piles in your home office, and the 101 things on your to-do list, all clamoring for your time and attention.”
–Lisa Baldwin, Clutter Coach and Professional Simplifier

In the gap between the day we signed our mortgage and the day we could move into our 1920’s craftsman, I would sit on the back porch with my soulful housemate Sharon, and wait for the day we could call The Densmore House home. “It’s good here, Rachelle.” she’d say “Someone has been prayerful in this space.”

Where we live has a feel, an energy…a zeitgeist. We long to live in peaceful, beautiful spaces. But often we find ourselves living in clutter, mess and mayhem. There’s the physical clutter—the mail, and the socks, and the stacks of paper. (How does all that paper procreate anyway?!) Physical clutter stops us in our tracks. It keeps us from starting creative projects—because who wants to work at that messy table? It keeps us from finishing tasks because we can’t find what we started on. It drains us of our inspiration, and tires us out with menial tasks.

Then there is the energetic clutter—the anxiety, the regret, and that mysterious slimy residue that hangs around when something particularly sad or nasty has gone down. Energetic clutter is more subtle than the physical kind. It resides on the edge of our awareness like something you can only see out of the corner of your eye. Yet energetic clutter can be just as distracting and draining as the stack of mail on your countertop.

Thankfully I have two stellar practitioners who can help you remove BOTH kinds of clutter from your life – and they are teaming up to offer an e-course! (Oh you are so lucky!) Read the rest of this entry »

Listen to the podcast here:

Subscribe to Magpie Girl podcasts on Zune, or on iTunes, or via RSS.

Right around Easter I wrote a post that was a little bit pissy. I did this intentionally because I was feeling pissy—and I was pretty sure other people were as well. (And indeed, they were.) But I got a little bit of push-back for being “too negative.” So let me say this about that, there are spiritual benefits to being pissy. Read the rest of this entry »

This is cross-posted as my weekly editorial at Blogher. Find all my BlogHer columns here.

“So the Christians and the Pagans sat together at the table
Finding faith and common ground the best that they were able
Lighting trees in darkness, learning new ways from the old, and
Making sense of history and drawing warmth out of the cold.”

Dar Williams
The Christians and the Pagans

“It’s dark out now, but the light is coming.” This is the message that the Pagan celebration of Winter Solstice (Dec 21st) and the Christian celebration of Christmas (Dec 25th) has in common. As the days grow short, we long for light — both physical and metaphysical, to carry us through the dark season. Advent, which means simply “to come,” is the season that leads up to both the Pagan tradition of celebrating the return of the Life-Giver, the Sun; and the Christian tradition of celebrating the birth of the Son, Jesus, who in religious parlance is often referred to as “the light of the world.” The Advent wreath, which has it’s finger in both tradition’s pies, is a simple practice that brings warmth, meaning and light to the holiday season. And the good news is, it’s easy to practice!

The Advent Wreath at it’s roots is an ancient Pagan rite. In the Pagan era people would bring their cart wheels indoors during the Winter, to preserve this important tool of survival from the wet and the cold. The wheels were hung from the ceiling and used and impromptu chandeliers. As the days grew short and the nights lengthened, people would deck the wheels out with evergreens and candles and spin them as an incantation to the Powers, asking that the light be returned. And what do you know? As the longest night of the Winter Solstice tipped the world towards Spring, the days started to lengthen and the light came back!

In the Christian era this practice was adopted by the church. (Most, if not all Christian traditions find their roots in other religions.) A wreath of evergreens is laid on a table (or here in Denmark, hung from the ceiling) and filled with four candles — one for each week of the waiting, or Advent, season. Originally the candles were simply a countdown, one for each of the four Sunday’s preceding Christmas. Now, in liturgical churches the candles are different colors and have different themes. The colors and meanings are not standardized across denominations (e.g. branches) of the Christian church. But generally the colors are purple, rose, and white and the themes are Hope, Love, Joy, and Peace. (For more info, click here.)

You can easily use a wreath to bring attentiveness and meaning into your home this holiday season. Buy a wreath at your local store, and lay it on your table. You might want to put something protective beneath it like a large platter or even just a couple sheets of wax paper, trimmed to fit. Place four candles inside the wreath–or five if you want a separate one to light on Solstice Day or Christmas Day. Gather your family, friends, or your own dear self to the table once a week (usually a Sunday), light the candle are read something meaningful. Here are two inter-faith suggestions that I’ve used as an officiate at both Solstice and Christmas celebrations:

Soon, our nights grow shorter and our days grow long.
We look once more on these earthy symbols–
firelight and evergreens–
and embrace the glow of hope
That Light and Life will return once again to the earth.

——

The people who lived in darkness have seen a great light,
and we have beheld its glory,

Light,
generous from the inside out,
true from start to finish,
full of grace, full of truth.

As each week draws us closer to these celebrations of Light, the light from the wreath literally grows brighter and stronger, chasing the shadows to the corners and providing us with hope. I find it to be a powerful symbol of a universal truth: the light comes into the darkness, and the darkness cannot overcome it.

What will you do to celebrate the Light’s return? Please add your ideas and links to the comments below.

More Magpie Girl about Advent, Solstice, and Christmas:

Sacred Sunday: A Prayer for Solstice and Advent

Beautiful Pagan-y Things: Feast of the Winter Solstice with the Fremont Arts Council

Poetry: Bread of the Winter Solstice

A Winter Soltice Gone Amiss (But Still, a Good Plan)

Today’s Theme: Peaceful Advent

God with Us: Brennan Manning

Rebecca and I as Lady Katrina, a central figure of Día de los Muertos. More pics here.

Last week while I was on vacation, my Grandmother passed away. She was frail, and ill and ready to be released from this mortal coil. And so it is with both sorrow and contentment that we greet her passing and honor her memory. This means, that for the first time this year, her icon will join Grandpa’s on our mantelpiece as we celebrate Día de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead.

Día de los Muertos, also known as All Souls or All Saints, is an annual remembrance of those who have passed before us. Primarily celebrated in Mexico, and by people of Mexican heritage, Día de los Muertos is a gift from the Latino heritage dating back to the age of the Aztecs. During this holiday children and infants who have died are remembered on November 1st, while adults are remembered on November 2nd. (Although this is flexible, and varies in practice.) Colorful decorations adorn family burial plots where family members picnic and tell stories; and sugar skulls are bedecked with colored icing and sparkles in a celebration of both life and death.

In our family, we’ve been practicing Día de los Muertos and All Saint’s for the past four years. We open up the living room and haul out the art supplies, inviting friends to create portable memorials to their loved ones and/or to saints both traditional and modern who have guided and inspired. Tracy Zollinger Turner of Tiny Mantras wrote a lovely post about celebrating All Saints in New Orleans. She says:

“As I understand it, All Saints Day is about remembering the people no longer with us, who still live under our skin — the ones that we look to for guidance, even if we can only imagine what they might say to us now. I try to think of those people in my own life often, but work and trick or treaters and traffic and phone calls get in the way. Today, I will make a point to remember them, one by one.”

Doesn’t that sound nice? Wouldn’t it be lovely to do that together? Hurrah! We still have time! Here’s what I’m suggesting, let’s remember the people who’s wisdom and laughter have touched us by creating memorials to them for Día de los Muertos. It’s easy. Show us a picture of the person you’re remembering and post it on your Flickr account. Write a post about someone you love on your blog. Or, you could create your own crafty icon of the saint you adore. Get it online by November 1st, and I’ll include it in my Monday morning post for BlogHer on November 3rd. Just email the permalink to moi at magpie-girl dot com

Need some help? Kathy Cano-Murillo of the Crafty Chica certainly has the right vibe going over at her place. At Shutter Sisters, Jen Lemen gives us this remembrance of her father (who is still with us…but still, it’s a good idea for an alternative portraiture of someone you love and want to recall, don’t you think. Hmm…what photo of grandma could you crop?) And Kate at Sweet:Salty once again touches our hearts with her post on remembering the little ones who have left us too soon, too soon. Plus, I have to say my little group of celebrants has done a lovely job making memorials out what my children call “cut, color, and paste” you can find them listed below.

I do hope you’ll join in the festivities! I’m looking forward to getting your email with your posts by November 1st. Happy Día de los Muertos!

A Memorial to Rosa Parks (by Paul Chapman)
A Modern Saint: Derrida (by Lindell Alderman)
Infant Loss: Remembering Simeon

Cross-posted from BlogHer.com.

Because of the One Hour Experiment, Magpie Girl has been a little quiet lately. But I’ve been writing away at other places on the web, and I’d be honored if you’d visit my work there.

BlogHer: Contributing Editor, Religion and Spirituality

Finding Your Blogging Soulmate
Failure: Sin or Saving Grace?
Finding Simplicity

Faith At Work: Columnist, Applied Parenting

Moving into the Neighborhood

Minti: Powered by Parents

Tips for Getting the Kids Back to School

Food Hero: Food by friends, for friends.

Pizza Night!
How to Organize Your Recipes
Steak with Lime Marinade and Spinach Salad
Lazy Gourmet: Oven Pancakes
“Doctored” Bolognese Sauce
Mushroom and Chicken Risotto
(These are just my posts, but my partner in food crime Katy K has cocktails, salads, and apps up for you too!)

Hello friends!
I’ve been posting hither and yon on the web this week. Here’s a little round-up, just in case you were curious.

Minti: Powered by Parents
Tips for Traveling to Big Cities with Kids

Food Hero: Food by friends and for friends.
Lazy Gourmet Bruschetta
White Sauce with Proscuitto, Spinach and Peas over Tortellini

BlogHer: You say it. We Share it.
Finding Happiness

A year has passed since Jen and I set up the Small is Beautiful revolution in the hopes of supporting small, passionate bloggers while they find their writing voice. Like the proverbial snowball rolling downhill, the list of people taking the pledge and adding the button swiftly grew to first dozens, then, to a hundred, and then more than I could track. New people join every day, and the blog roll which was once something I could update in ten minutes is now so large I’ve had to complete give it up! It’s amazing to know that so many storytellers are out there, trying to identify the meaningful in their lives and in the lives of others.

As BlogHer 08 in San Francisco rapidly approaches, it dawns on me how much I wanted to be there and a how I longed to serve as a sort of emotive chaplain, helping people embrace their call to write. But now I live in Denmark (Denmark!) and BlogHer is but a far away wish.

Still, many MANY of you will be there, sharing your ideas and your laughter with others who are bringing women’s voices to the forefront of the new journalism – blogging in all its wonderful pell-mell forms. I hope you will find each other, gather at round tables, and share the passions you have for writing down that which is wonderful.

Small is Beautiful is under severe disrepair right now. The html is broken; we can’t find a way to do an automated opt-in blog roll with categorization; we need those same folks to be able to opt-in to an email list–and I really don’t know what to do about any of it. I am, as they say, ‘in over my head.’

I still believe that small is powerful, and that a network of small bloggers can support one another in ways that no big name recognition can provide. So I appeal to you, our tiny community, for help and advice. If you have solutions, or willingness to do some cleanup work in the SIB garden, drop a note in the comments or email me or Jen. (Contact into here.)

In meantime, remember: Your story is important. May you sing it from the rooftops.

Yours in tininess,

Rachelle

When I was practicing a traditional form of Christianity, there were times when I felt absolutely weighed down by the number of spiritual practices I was “supposed” to be participating in. Worship songs. Small groups. Prayer meetings. Private devotions. Bible study. Acts of charity. Evangelism. The list was endless.

In addition to the wearying psychic weight of that long list of spiritual to-dos, was the undeniable underlying reality that few if any of those spiritual practices did much for me. True there were times in my spiritual life when some of them helped some of the time. But eventually I came to a point where engaging in those practices no longer helped me feel closer to God, made me a better person, or brought shalom (wholeness) into my world or anybody else’s. Finally, I got the message. Finally, I let them go.

The thing about deconstructing your religious practices is that eventually, your soul will probably start shouting, “Hey! I’m still hungry down here.” That’s when you have to get busy with the reconstructive process. The time will come when you’ll need to find the things that will feed your soul, connect you to something sacred, or just generally bulk up your karma.

Ta da! The blogosphere to the rescue! Here are some great non-religion-specific soulful practices that might scratch where it itches. Why not surf around and see if you intuitively respond to any of them, then try out the ones that sound good?

Ask yourself, “What is it you really want?”: Liz LaMoureux over at Be Present, Be Here (which, by the way, is my current mantra) tells us a story about being brave enough to ask for what she wants. Liz’s story is an affirmation to each of us, reminding us: “You are not too much. You are not asking too much.” This once again brings to mind that familiar but powerful saying:

“What would you attempt to do if you knew you would not fail?”

Go ahead. Follow Liz and make a list – ask the universe for what you really want.

Enjoy the View: What are the snapshot images that make up who you are and what you value? Jen at One Plus Two gives her inspiring views, and challenges you to make your own list. What will your view memories reveal? (Special props to Tiny Mantras for linking me to Jen’s site.)

Capture Your Dreams: Suzie Sacred recommends that you get all paste-and-scissory with your fine self and make a dream board of what you are imaging for yourself. Sometimes we get a little stagnant and find ourselves living into our past dreams instead of extending our hands to our now-and-not-yet imaginings. Suzie asks,

“Are the images you collect out of date for who you are today? What do you need to add to your life now that these things have changed?”

Head over to her place for links to a bunch of inspiring dream boards, then sit down and make one for yourself. (Big thanks to Mother Henna for directing us to Suzie.)

Give it Up:

A young girl asks a wise old woman, "How does one become a butterfly?"
With a twinkle in her eye, the old woman replies, "You must be willing to give up being a caterpillar."

Last but not least, Blossoming Soul asks “What are you ready to give up.” Her post inspired me to make my list awhile back (several, actually) and can testify that it was literally life changing. Be bold! Ask yourself, "What am I ready to give up in order to make room for something wonderful?"

Have you got a practice that feeds your soul? Share it in the comments below, or post it and leave us the link.

Namaste!

P.s. I’ll be looking for great posts about spirituality/faith and the environment for next week. If you’ve got a good one up, be sure to let me know. Email me: moi @ magpie-girl dot com.

This article is cross-posted at BlogHer as a part of my regular Monday posts on Religion and Spirituality. See you there!

When we were living in Seattle, we choose a public school for our kids that had as much ethnic diversity as our mostly-white part of the city would allow. For four years the girls jumped rope with little pixie girls from Cambodia, dark haired chiquas from Mexico, and quiet girls in long skirts and hijabs.

During that time I managed to build bridges with most of the parents, but the quiet Muslim mama’s remained distant from me. There was the language barrier, true, but that didn’t seem to stop me from speaking Spanglish with the Latino moms. And there were cultural differences, but I was doing okay with the Cambodian families. So why couldn’t I connect with the Mama’s in hijabs who did little more than offer shy smiles at my friendly waves? Invitations for play dates went unanswered, questions about holiday plans for Eid were brushed aside, and the little girls were swept away as soon the students came pouring out the door at the sound of the 3:10 bell. What was I missing about my usually successful “how to win friends and influence people” equation?

The Fear. I was forgetting about the fear.

We all know that since 9-11 people who “look Muslim” have been treated like the enemy, regardless of their nationality or the stringency of their beliefs. But I was living on the other side of the country from NYC, and in my über-PC west-coast city, I thought those racist attitudes were rare enough that the fear held by Islamic families had dissipated. Surely the racist extremism of those initial post 9-11 years had mellowed. Surely visibly Islamic families living in most parts of America were now feeling relatively safe.

The privileged safe anonymity of being white, middle class, and (mostly) Christian in America had once again lulled me into false assumptions about my sisters on the other side of the color line. Thankfully, Ira Glass and Company/a> gave this WASP a wakeup call, and my consciousness was once again raised.

I adore Ira Glass and will gladly listen to This American Life on an unending loop. The girls and I often listen to back episodes on line, and a few days ago we tuned into the Shouting Across the Great Divide, an award winning story by Alix Spiegl. Spiegl captured the story of Serry and her family, Muslims living in the U.S. When my 4th grader, Eden, heard the stories of why Serry’s 4th grader, Chloe, had to leave her public schools, she was appalled. And by the time Chole’s best friend walks right past her without acknowledging her existence, Eden was in tears. When Serry’s husband opts for living in the West Bank of Palestine rather than enduring the strain of being a Muslim man in America, I joined in the crying. Not knowing what else to do for our sisters across the waters, Eden I fell back on our standard response. We lit candles. We said prayers. We tried to hold space for Serry and her family—we tried to hold space for hope.

No wonder the Muslim mamas at the kids’ school did not trust my conversational overtures, and the beautiful African women in abayads declined to make eye contact. In addition to the cultural differences that divide us, they were living in a tension I’ve never experienced. I was blithely throwing out “why can’t we all just get along” vibes. They were living in a constant low grade hum of fear.

I have been longing to make a connection with my Muslim sisters for a long time now, and I had hoped that our move to Copenhagen with its growing Islamic neighborhoods might be the thing that helped those connections get made. But as this country’s political debate over immigration in general, and Muslim immigration in particular, loops around itself in angry spirals, I began to despair of those friendships ever being possible. Could relational bridges be built? Or will we continue to shout across the great divide?

I believe we can do it. I believe women can build bridges—that we can see opportunities others may not perceive. And there are stories—real , live, it-just-happened-to-me stories—out there in the blogosphere that will help me hold on to that belief. This week, Catherine McNeil at Everyday Life as Lyric Poetry records an inspiring tale about meeting folks over the quest for ethical meat. And Jen Lemen, my soulsister in WASPy-ness and one of the best cross-cultural bridge builders I have ever met, offers us this report of finding siblinghood with a brother from another mother. Both are stories of simple connections made over every day transactions. They inspire me and give me hope. These stories tell me that we don’t need a stellar plan of global proportions to create the ties that bind. Being present is enough. Being attentive to our every day will give us the chance to say ‘yes’ to the openings around. With attentiveness and intent, we can grasp each other’s hands as we stretch them across a (not) so great divide.

Okay John, go ahead and play us out.

I’m a contributing editor for religion and spirituality at BlogHer. Find all my BlogHer posts or subscribe to the feed here. Thanks!

How much time are we willing to spend debating right thinking at the expense of right living?

The last couple of years I’ve been captivated by the idea of orthopraxy as opposed to orthodoxy. Orthodoxy is the concept of ‘right thinking,’ or ‘right belief.’ In a system which requires orthodoxy, belonging requires one to believe a certain set of assertions. If one cannot ascribe to those beliefs, then membership in that system is denied, and one can no longer belong.

Orthopraxy on the other hand is the idea of having ‘right practice.’ Rather than requiring alignment to doctrinal assertions, an orthopraxy places the emphasis on living according to a certain collection of practices.

Karen Armstrong, an interfaith specialist who writes and teaches about Islam, Judaism, and Christianity, writes in her autobiography about her own realization that one could be a person of faith without holding orthodox beliefs.

As a part of her research work, Armstrong was introduced to Jewish scholar Hyam Maccoby, who introduced her to the idea that one could have a faith based upon right living rather than right belief. In fact, he told her, the idea that faith is primarily about right belief is largely a Christian phenomenon.

“It is easy to see that you were brought up Christian….Theology is just not important in Judaism, or in any other religion really. . … We have orthopraxy instead of orthodoxy…right practice rather than right belief. That’s all. You Christians make such a fuss about theology, but it’s not important in the way you think….We Jews don’t bother much about what we believe. We just do it instead.” The Spiral Staircase P. 235,236

This is probably an oversimplification, and certainly striving after right practice can easily become a legalistic lecture about ticking things off your holy checklist. Still, after a life time of worrying about my orthodoxy, it feels good to focus on how I’m living for awhile.

I’ve been especially inspired this week by soulful folks who have found small and beautiful ways to, as Maccoby says, “just do it” in the world. Each one is an example of an orthopraxy that reflects the beauty and creativity which lies at their spiritual cores.

Tess at Anchors and Masts is spreading the word about World Water Day and inspiring people to take simple, practical steps towards getting communities access to safe drinking water.

Over at Dahl Bat small-sized projects in literacy and fair trade in Kolkata, India.

Young Laura over at Twenty Five Days to Make a Difference has taken her values viral and has inspired kids and adults alike to do something proactive every month to make the world a better place.

And finally, in an act that hits close to home, a small group of Small is Beautiful bloggers are working together to do an on-line auction for sister-blogger Jenni Ballantyne of The Comfy Place. Jen is living her last days with fierce honesty as she looks at the end of line in her fight against colon cancer. To find out how you can help raise funds for her final treatment and for her son’s future, go over to Jena’s place at Bullseye Baby and do some orthopraxis of your very own.

Here’s to orthopraxis in all the best sense of the word. Shalom!

Find all my BlogHer posts or subscribe to the feed here. Thanks!