Dear Fear,

We are over, my brutha.

I know our mothers introduced us, but seriously — is that any reason to keep up a relationship?

I know you are trying to help, but hey, I’ve got it from here.

Good luck and best of wishes. And no, I will not hook you up with any of my single girlfriends.

Heart,

Moi

P.s. I wouldn’t mind dating your hot cousin — Intuitive ForeKnowledge. That guy gives me a big rush whenever anything truly dangerous comes along. Give him my number, will ya?

A year ago I made a dreamboard for this same month. One about writing a book. One about getting it done. And I did. I wrote a shitty first draft. Then, I decided I did not want to finish it. I didn’t want to edit it, or flesh it out, or schlepp it off to the publisher who had asked for it. It didn’t fit me, you see. It wasn’t what I really wanted to write about. And the traditional publishing process was not one I wanted to engage with, at least not at the time.

So I never finished that book that I dreamt of a year ago. Instead I wrote another one. It is every so nearly done…as is the invite to the on-line Soultribes I’ll be offering for the new year. And I really must get them done this month, so that the timing comes out all in a row.

To do so I need to work consistently. Yet my health demands that my work hours be flexible. I need to be confident in what I am doing. Yet I need to be adaptable as plans may require change. I’m willing to work hard. And yet I’m hoping for ease. In short, I want flow…that mysterious zone where you are productive yet still at ease.

So flow, I welcome you…into this space, into these keys, into these fingers sheathed in their fingerless writer’s gloves. I welcome you to my studio, to my heart, to my mind. May you live here and thrive this cold November; may you find warm welcome here.

It’s back to school season with the last of the schools in the U.S. starting up after this Labor Day weekend comes to a close. Children are trying on outfits, putting their names on backpacks and picking out new lunchboxes. But beyond the ritual of buying schools supplies, what can you do to create a sacred space around going back to school?

Starting a new grade is a big rite of passage for children — one that more often than not goes by unnoticed. In the flutter, hurry and relief(!) of finally getting those kids back in school, busy parents don’t have a lot of time to mark the moment. So here are 3 easy ways to honor the back to school process.

1. Special Breakfast. For many years I had a habit of making the children a special breakfast for the first day of school. The food wasn’t that fancy, just French toast and orange juice usually. But I made a special effort to set the table nicely, maybe with flowers or pretty napkins. I left a note on each of their plates with an affirmation for the year — my hopes for them that season. “May you make friends who love and respect you.” Or “This year – long division with ease!” Other options: a scripture verse to guide the year, or a favorite quote or poem about growing up, challenges, or surprises.

2. Growth Spurt: Many people have a practice of taking a photo of their children on the first day of school. Why not take it in front of something that can measure their changing height as the grow — say, with the same door frame in the background, or the swingset poles besides them. When they come home from school the first day, lay all the photos out in a row on the coffee table and let them celebrate how much they’ve grown.

3. Dreamboards. This year for back to school I made a collage for each of my girls with my hope for their learning experiences this year (both in and out of school.) I’m hoping that Cate will learn to love reading just a little bit more. (Time to give in and start buying graphic novels.) And my dream for Eden is that she discover ways to challenge her learning (even in the laid-back Danish skole system.) Both girls loved their pictures and we’ve hung them in the entry hall to keep those dreams fresh in our minds. This practice is especially nice because you can do it even if the kids’ first day has already passed

What do you do to celebrate the first day of school. What ritual or practice do you use to mark this rite of passage?

my September dreamboard, made on a page from an illustrated journal i began three years ago, before i learned that I’d laid out 27 pages wrong and the project couldn’t be saved. (now, redeemed.)

This has been a hard week. A hard an horrible week. But today the tides began to their turning. The pained backed down. I could work again, write again. Hope started thinking about coming home to roost.

Often I loose track of where the moon is in her cycle. But this week I’ve been aware of her lurking outside my window, lighting up my insomniatic night, keeping me company on the sidelines. I knew tonight she would be at her roundest, her ripest. And I just could not resist the siren call of her light on my work table. She winked so cunningly  through my window, that mistress moon.

One year ago I made my first dreamboard. I dreamt all year of a stage for my stories, health for my body, a community for my heart. I dreamt of books and of strength enough to write them. I dreamt of the loved ones, and tribes. I dreamt of stillness and of floating. Some of those dreams came true. Many, most, did not.

There is no stage, no book, no local community. My loved ones are far from me (but gratefully, well.)  There is no health. Above all there is no health. Still, hope springs eternal I suppose—in that small way that it must, when you children lie safe and asleep under your roof, when the moon waits for you beyond your window.

So, still, I dream. Under the moon I dream. And as I dream I till the soil. I turn the earth. I make ready the ground. Because one day, some day,  perhaps the the gods of harvest will smile down upon me, and these dreams will finally get themselves born.

This crop may at long last come to fruition.

The tea lights ring the room and ambient trip-hop spills from the speakers. There are seven of us around the table ranging in age from fifty to five. We’ve chatted a bit and filled our mugs. Now it’s time for cardstock and magazines, glues sticks and scissors. It’s the Full Moon. It’s time to Dreamboard.
A Dreamboard circle is one of the simplest Soultribes to form. It doesn’t require complicated leadership, and the supplies and techniques are very basic. You can form one easily with these simple steps…

Timing
Dreamboards are sometimes linked to the Full Moon. I find it’s hard for a group to strictly follow the full moon, since she falls on a different day of the week each month. So you might want to pick a set day (i.e. Third Thursdays) and make your boards together then, and just present them at home to the next full moon when she next arrives. It takes about 2 hours for a group to make and share their Dreamboards.
People
Invite a group of people to come and Dreamboard with you. Explain that Dreamboards are a simple collage to help us achieve our hopes and dreams by making them more tangible. Dreamboarding also helps us live more intentionally, and hold on to the important in the face of the urgent. (For more information on Dreamboards here’s an interview with a Dreamboard founder, Suzie Ridler.)

Reassure people that they don’t need to be artists to make a Dreamboard! It’s just collage – like in grade school! (It helps to include a simple example in your invite.) Don’t start with too big of a circle. I find 4-8 guests to be a good size, since you need plenty of room around the table for art supplies and elbows!

Who to invite? The lady in the carpool line with the bumper sticker you like. The person who’s always writing in their journal at the coffee shop while you write in yours. The teenage babysitter you chat about life with before you take her home. The woman who sit next to you in yoga. I bet if you think about it, you have plenty of candidates!

Supplies
Supplies can vary but this is my Short List:

• cardstock for the “board” part (plain or colored)
• magazines (design magazines like Dwell are great)
• scissors (a pair for everyone)
• glue sticks
• sharpies or other markers

And here is my Long List:

• origami paper
• stickers (especially gold stars and seals)
• wrapping paper
• alphabet stickers
• stencils
• Milagros
• rubber stamps (I like alphabet stamps)
• tiny envelopes

Inviting people to contribute to the supply bin helps form a common ownership amongst the group. Once people see what you can use, they will probably be eager to bring their “finds” from art supply stores, card shops, and their own craft cupboards.

Set Your Intention
I like to begin our circle by introducing the theme of the upcoming Full Moon. There are a lot of different names for each full moon, and you can find some of their meanings here. You can align yourself with seasonal energies by connecting your images on the Dreamboard to the themes held in that month’s moon. For instance Spring moons carry themes about softening soil and new beginnings, while Fall moons have harvest and abundance motifs connected to them. Of course, people can also make something unrelated to the moon that is timely for them.
Begin your dreaming time by helping people get centered. Something as simple as asking people to sit comfortable and take three deep breaths can still the room and settle your souls. Then invite people to start ripping pages out of magazines, snipping things out of colored paper, and pasting away.

Direct Newbies
Even though collage is very accessible, many people experience some anxiety when they first start making Dreamboards. Some things I’ve found helpful for new folks are to suggest that they work with a theme.

• Color Themes: What color represents what they are dream of this month? Orange sunny energy? Cool blue comfort? Suggest that they pull images from magazines that are in those colors. They can decide later which ones to use and how to use them.
• Image Themes: Another way to narrow things down is to work on an image theme. For instance, one friend works a lot with water images, and she’ll often start her board by just tearing water pictures from magazines.
• Word Themes: For people who are less pictorial and more verbal, working with a certain word or set of words can help. Clipping a word ransom-note style from a magazine like “LOVE” or “JOY” and be a good central image to work around.

It’s also helpful to put out a big manila envelope. Use this to stash the bit people ripped out and decided not to use. Knowing there’s a place to keep these extra bits really helps people get over their fear of “wasting” a good image.

Share a Little
When people’s boards seem to be filling up, ask if anyone would like to share what their board is about. It’s important that you introduce this as an optional part of the circle. (Although in my experience most people choose to participate in this.) Then wish each other “Sweet Dreams,” take your Dreamboards home, and let them manifest good things into your month!

One More Thing
Once you get to month two into your Dreamboard Circle, you can start the gathering off by asking if anyone wants to share their experience with their last Dreamboard.
It’s always interesting to hear where people put them and how they interact with the boards over the course of a month. Sometimes the boards really “sing” and other times they seem dormant. I’ve had immediate results with my boards, and other times it’s been six months before I’ve looked back on an old Dreamboard and realized “Ah ha! That’s what that meant!”

For instance, I made a Dreamboard I titled “I was meant for the stage.” I thought it was about my desire to play and sing in front of an audience. But now I realize that my stage is the web and my mic is for podcasting. (Although I am still taking the guitar lessons I started when I made the board, just in case!)
And don’t forget, if you blog or use a site like Flickr, you can share you Dreamboard with other dreamers by adding your link to Jamie’s list each month over at Starshyne Productions. It’s a lovely way to get and share inspiration with each other. Enjoy your Dreamboarding…and may your circle come to you soon

Soultribes is an on-going series helping creative souls build a place to call home. Demonstrate your commitment to forming your tribe by adding this badge to your website, and follow us on Twitter to read the next edition. “There ain’t no where to go but together!”

There’s a lot going on over here, and even now I hear the sound of my hubby vacuuming —unbidden!— downstairs. While he does the IRL housekeeping I’ll do the virtual stuff. Here’s what’s going on today in Magpie Girl world.

Soulsisters!
Are you coming on the Soulsister’s ’09 Retreat? Do you wish you were? Do you want to form your own tribe of soulsisters (or soulsiblings?) Follow our progress and learn our hopes here.

Fun & Helpful Twitter Play-a-Longs
Do you Tweet? So do I!  I’m starting some fun new trends on Twitter.

• #gigglepics: photos to cheer you up or soothe your soul via TwitPic.
• #dailywhimsy: cheeky little tweets about the playful things we do to embrace whimsy.
• #dreamboards: do you dreamboard? share your results using links to your blog, Flickr, or Twitpic.
• #soulsisters: for those of us attending the first retreat and dreaming or forming the next one.
• #doless:join The DO LESS Revolution and learn to do what Leo Babatua calls “the fine art of choosing the essentials,” and achieve what I call “concentrated living.” (Plus, just feel better!)
• #soultribes: follow the “How to Build Your Soultribe” series and share ideas and plans with others.
• #*8Things: to share your weekly *8Things and see what others come up with. (It’s fascinating)

Wreck this Journal
Over at Starshyne Productions, my soulsister Jamie Ridler offers The Next Chapter — virtual book clubs for the arty at heart. Right now she’s encouraging us to make a mess with Keri Smith’s   Wreck this Journal. Eden, Cate and I started wrecking ours two summers ago. But I’m working on finishing the demo now. Here’s my page for this week. The instructions were “cover this page with white things.” It’s doubling as this month’sdreamboard. My theme for the month is “be still. be now.”

Hope you all have a wonderful Saturday. Don’t do too much housekeeping…go outside and do something whimsical!

Love,

Magpie Girl

It’s Dreamboard time, and the Flower Moon is sending us its lovely blooming energy. According to Trish Hoskins at Suite 101, now is the time to celebrate bouyant, playful energy and to “meditate on your thankfulness for the feeling of renewal and rejuvination.”

All this month I’ve known that my theme for the May dreamboard would be “All Systems GO!” Which has been encouraging because I’ve had a bad migraines in May and every day has brought me pain. Today the pain finally broke and –you guessed it — I came down with a stomach bug. In Sweden. On vacation.

Have you noticed that this tends to happen with stress of all sorts? For instance, my mother was a teacher and was often sick on the first few days of our holiday breaks.  I think maybe the fight-or-flight rush of adreniline keeps the germs at bay, and once that’s gone — WOMP! — you’re sick.

So with this dreamboard I’m holding on to hope with both hands that the next few weeks will find me healthy and read to MOVE on all the lovely writing and community-building projects The Universe has given me of late.  In spite of the pain this month, I have felt that blooming, joyful energy in great abundance. I am immensely grateful that the work that’s been set in front of me rejuvenates me body and soul.

This dreamboard was made in our hotel room in Stockholm. The Cate drew the rocket ship for me and we stuck them up on the amazing wall paper. I love how it makes me think of the Flower Moon and of my hope for forward motion. Perhaps we should have written: All Systems Grow!

What is the Flower Moon bringing you these days?

Tuesday night the 19yo haunted my dreams, flitting in and out of whatever story was going on. We call this my “Spidey-sense” and when it happens, no matter how long he’s been incommunicado, I have to track him down and find out what’s what. 

Wednesday night the full moon glowed yellow and welcoming in my Copenhagen sky. I’m not usually very connected to the moon, but last night its glow, it felt important…powerful. So I sat down and made a quick-and-dirty dreamboard with the few supplies I had on hand,  uttering once again what my dear friend Dwight practically has tattooed on his forehead:

ONLY CONNECT.

By Friday we were back in touch and the emails went back and forth with tidbits and updates.

Oh, that Sister Moon, I love her so……

P.s. If Souren actually read my blog, I’m sure he’d be THRILLED with this photo. Sorry bruddah, if you sent me more pics, you’d get better airtime. :-)

For more about Dreamboard visit Jamie at Starshyne Productions, or read my interview with her sister Suzie of Chez Suzie here. What will you dream of this month?

my august dreamboard, now on display with a candle in the middle of the kitchen table.

I wish I could trust in healing. That it will come in this life time. That Josh’s deep conviction that I will be free from this pain will triumph over the calm quiet voice inside me telling me, “Girl, you’d better get used to managing this, because this is it forever.”

I wish I could trust my body. That when it wakes up in the morning, it will allow me to do the basics of my day. That it will not make me cancel, lie down, swallow pills.

I wish I could trust my doctors and practitioners – all 31 of them, each of them speaking with so much confidence on my first office visit these words: “I have such good results with migraines.” All of whom now know me only as a cold case, as a stack of files.

 I wish I could trust in Alanis’s soft sermon. That I would be good, even if I could do nothing. That I could be good, even if I got and stayed sick.

 I wish, I wish…

My dreamboard for this full moon is all about Spring getting sprung! March’s full moon is the worm moon, demarcating the time when the soil gets soft and the earthworms re-emerge. What is softening in your life? What new growth is emerging?

We recently passed the one year mark of life here in Copenhagen. Baring lay-offs, we have a mandatory two-year assignment. But given Paul’s ship cycle, and what he needs to do for and with his team, we’re looking down the barrel of being here at least three years. … Can you tell by my metaphor how I am feeling about this?

For a long time I thought I would get used to being in Denmark. I was eager to live abroad, and I knew from experience that I like learning and living in cultures that are not my own. Plus, my graduate school was very international, and I enjoyed that mixed-culture experience very much. So I’ve been surprised at my inability to adjust to life abroad.

For the past year I’ve been on the “accentuate the positive” bandwagon most days– listing all the things I like about living here and trying to embrace the bits that I enjoy. But the reality is, while I like living outside of the U.S., DK is not the best fit for me.

February in northern winters is by far the hardest month. So much so that at my Seattle college our advisors told the freshmen to “never change your boyfriend, your haircut, or your major in February.” Nonetheless, February is when it struck me that maybe I am not going to come to terms with it. Maybe this is never going to fit right, to become my community, to feel like home.

I was listening to a story on This American Life recently in which the narrator was describing a heated debate between two political opponents. He noticed that the only time the crowd seemed to be experiencing something as a joint experience was when photos of the war were put up on a screen. When that happened stillness filled the room. What he said about this still space was this:

“Forget all the arguments. Let’s just sit by this lake, and try to figure out its name.”

At first I didn’t understand why this phrase was capturing my heart. Then Jena pointed out that the whole story was using the language of struggle and that I have been living in midst of two great struggles: the struggle to live cross-culturally; and the struggle to live with chronic pain. For a long time I’ve thought that there were only two choices about how to respond to these struggles: “Stand and Fight,” or “Lay Down and Die.” But what if there is a third way? What if it involves sitting in the place where stillness pools. What if it involves turning around, looking into the face of loneliness, and saying, “Okay, so you’re here now. Have a seat.” What if it involves—not a frantic search for meaning—but just sitting on a park bench and waiting to see what happens. What if? What if?

I want to step out of the struggle. I want to stop trying to like it here. I want to stop trying to be brave about being in pain. I want to step out of the energy of the struggle, sit by the lake, and see if it will tell me its name.

How’s that experiment with making space for your Soultribe going? Have you baked some bread? Cleared some clutter? Made the place smell good? Good for you! (If not, that’s okay. It’s not a race or anything. We’ll wait up.)

Step Two: Using your Words to Creating Emotional Space

Now that you’ve made some physical space for your Soultribe, it’s time to create some emotional atmosphere as well. You know how sometimes you walk into a room, and it just feels right? Maybe it’s someone’s living room that always feels like a hug. Or maybe your massage therapists’ practice room is just the right balance of professionalism and coziness. Or it could be that your yoga studio is just so perfectly Zen. You can create that kind of emotive space for your Soultribe too!

Have you ever heard a parent working with a screaming toddler? You might hear the parent say: “Honey, you have to use your words.” Emotions can be big, very big. Even the good ones can be hard to pin down. So what we are going to do in step two, is find some words that will nuture the kind of emotional feel you want your Soultribe to have.

Here are three kinds of energy that lives in some of the Soultribe spaces I’ve visited. These are just ideas to help you get a picture of what you might like to see grow now that you’ve vested your charming space.

1) The vibrant, challenging energy that encourages discussion and intellectual discourse.
2) The passionate, hot energy that flows amongst a group dedicated to social action.
3) The warm nurturing energy that pools in a group dedicated to encouragement and discernment.

Each of these groups would have a different vibe, a different emotional temperature or texture. Anchoring yourself now in the emotional texture you would like to experience with your Soultribe will help put you solidly on the path that’s unfolding in front of you. And thankfully, it’s not that hard.

How to Write a Mantra

So get quiet for just a minute and ask yourself this question. When I am in this room with my Soultribe, what kind of emotional feeling do I want to be sitting in? Okay, just think about it for a minute or two. Now start writing down emotive words. At least ten, I think. Don’t over-think it. This works best quick and dirty on a piece of scratch paper. If any sneak in there that make you feel like you have to include them to “do it right” or “to be official” or because “you should”, toss those puppies out right away. Those are most likely institutional leftovers you don’t need. We are working with fresh ingredients here.

Once you’ve got your list, scan it and circle the three words that seem to float up to the top. Again, don’t over-think it. This is intuitive work. We don’t want our monkey minds getting in there and stirring things up.

Now this is the best part, which I just recently picked up from the Other Laura. Make your three words into a mantra. For instance, mine right now is warmthgentlenessstablity. (That’s how I see it when I chant it—all as one word/breath like that.)

Now, for the next few weeks try saying your mantra at least 4 times a day:

1) Say your mantra upon waking up. The bedroom is the nest of your home. Speak these words into it and root your day in that emotional reality.

2) Say your mantra at the door when you return home and in your entry way. The door and entry are a symbol of welcome. Bath them in this emotional atmosphere – as a sign of welcome to yourself and your Soultribe.

3) Say your mantra when you sit down for dinner. The table is a symbol of hospitality and gathering. Wrap it in your good intentions by “setting” it with the gift of these words.

4) Say your mantra at bedtime. This layers the very place where you lay your head with these positive emotions and brings the day full circle. (If your mantra is very energizing, you may want to skip this time so it doesn’t disrupt your sleep.

Finally, say your mantra whenever you practice vesting your space, or whenever thoughts, dreams, or worries about your future Soultribe arrive.

Why it works

Now, this is not a researched answer or anything. It’s just my opinion based on personal experience. I think saying a mantra works in the following ways:

• It affects the way your brain is thinking about a given situation. Now you are not just a person lacking a tribe, but a person who is creating a sacred atmosphere for your Soultribe to gather. It literally changes your reality. I think it shifts something on the cognitive and the behavioral level. It’s good stuff!

• It solidifies your values to create a solid base on which to build something new, giving you more stability and confidence.

• It opens your eyes, heart, and thoughts to opportunities and possibilities. Gradually you will start noticing the resources that are in front of you, the intriguing people that are crossing your path, the articles that mentioned just what you needed to hear, and the dozens of kismet moments that cross your path. You tune in to what God and The Universe are doing.

Okay, so now we are two steps in towards creating our Soultribe. Please let me know how things are going: What’s working for you, and what’s not. What questions are coming up for you. What tools you are realizing you need in your kit. What unexpected tasks come up along the way. Together, we will find our way to our Motherland.

Yours on the Journey,

Rachelle

Jen says, I can be honest about what I know now. And what I know now is that is need my soulsisters –or mabye my soulsibilings. I need them around me all the time, sending me messages of hope and speaking affirmation in my ears. I feel sheepish about it — this constant need for feedback and assistance and the exchange of ideas. But it’s okay to do things and get support at the same time, rights? As Jena says, is it functional? Because if it is, then why fight it?

It is functional for me, this communal way of life, the ebb and flow, the give and take. Even in the midst of my love of the solitary, I also need this chorus of voices. So I’m trying to listen to my own internal voice of authority and no matter what the experts say about rugged individualism, I’m recognizing that I need a hand to hold.

This month when Suzie asked The Universe what she had in store for me, she pulled the Nine of Cups not once, but twice. Two wishes for me! For the longest time I couldn’t decide what to wish for. I knew one wish had to be “Body”– for my health, for my pain, for the way I see my physical self. But the other one remained elusive. I got stuck in that loop of endless decision-making to which I am so prone. What if I made the wrong choice? What if I spoke the wrong word into being, then regreted wasting my wish?

I believe, even on my most doubtful days, that nothing is ever wasted. Or at least, I try to believe. (“Lord, I believe, help my unbelief.”) So whatever wish I make must be right, right?. And like Jaime says, if you move towards something and you don’t feel like backpeddling as fast as you can, move closer. So this is the word that has settled into my tongue, and I speak it into exisitence. “Tribe.”

Who do you need in your tribe? Truth tellers? Cultivators? Dreamers? Cuddlers? Champions? Warriors? Withmates? All of the above? Do tell…

Introduction: Sea Change

There’s was a boy, a very strange enchanted boy
They say he traveled very far, very far
Over land and sea
And then one day, one fateful day he came my way
And though we talked of many things, fools and kings,
This he said to me:

The greatest thing, you’ll ever learn
Is just to love
And be loved in return.

Nature Boy
Nat King Cole

Once there was a girl. This girl was a good little girl. She was a Christian girl. It’s true that she was a bit of a mutt, having been raised in a Lutheran church and sent to a private school run by the Pentecostals. The latter were rumored to be found swinging from the rafters. In proper religious circles this was just shy of snakes handling, but still, she made the cut. She had, after all, prayed the prayer and studied the catechism, filled her memory verse chart with shiny silver stars, and taken first communion. She got up at 6am to be a teenage prayer warrior and responded to altar calls in the school gym (for what reason she was never quite sure.) She even sang in the choir.

After a while this girl grew up. She went to more private Christian schools and got letters after her name. She met people who thought that the Holy Spirit was still afoot, and she learned about healing and prophecy and things that, frankly, acted a lot like magic and miracle. She met a wizened old man who everyone called a guru, but who called himself “Eugene.” When the girl talked to Eugene, his faced curved upwards into swoops because he smiled at the questions that only made other people look worried. He told the girl lots of stories, this Eugene, and some of them the girl seemed to remember like a mist in her memory. She thought she might have heard them once a long time ago. Only the stories were more interesting when Eugene told them. (When Eugene told them it was they were full of trolls and fairies, she was sure of it. There! Behind the sackcloth and ashes!). The felt she might be a part of these stories, and that maybe that everybody got to play, that things weren’t quite as scary as they were meant to be–or maybe they were more so–but the ending was even better than she had first understood, so the scariness of being in the story was worth it.

Eventually, the girl became mostly grown up. She got herself a job and house and a husband. She even graduated from two cats to two kids. Being the good girl that she was she worked for the poor, and volunteered to teach Sunday school, and spent all her time serving and serving and serving some more. (For which she got many kudos…and many requests for still more service.) She was doing all the things she was meant to do, dotting all her “i’s” and crossing all her “t’s.”. The rules in the church involved never being quite good enough, and always striving to be better. The girl wasn’t sure what to do about that, because sometimes she felt just fine, and everyone told her that couldn’t be right. So she tried to follow the rules and she worked on being holy. But something kept worrying at her, like a burr in her socks. Nothing fit quite right– everything was too big or too small. She could never nibble on just the right amount of Alice’s cookie, or she was always gulping down too much of the liquid from the curious little jar. She kept trying to find the Christian “perfect,” to be buttoned up properly and know all the right things to say. Finally, she realized that she could never truly accomplish that elusive goal. The girl decided the next best thing was to go on an adventure. So she ate enough of the cookie to crawl through the little door in the rabbit hole, and that made everything Far More Interesting.

You see the girl had found that she wanted to do what she was created to do instead of what she was supposed to do. (It was a fine line sometimes, quite hard to decipher.) So the girl forged ahead into the territory below the rabbit hole. She got ordained, which was against the rules. Then she took her ordination and she walked away from her church, which wasn’t so much against the rules as it was just plain foolhardy. You see, she had loved her church very much, but things had stopped making sense. Her soul was getting anemic. She had to find her way back to the story with trolls and fairies.

I am of course the girl-grown-to-woman. I was the good Christian girl who earned her pedigree via degrees and discernment groups and ordination processes. I am the one who’s career path went social work-homeless ministry-associate pastor. I am the one who read Brian McLaren’s The Story we Find Ourselves In, said “ah ha!” and then left her church. And I am now, among other things, the one who is ripe with ritual, eager to eat with the heathens, and full of priestessy things.

These are my stories. Well, my stories and all the places my stories intersect with many other wonderful stories, many of them bigger than my own. Hidden amongst them there are hypothetical trolls and fairies–wonders unaware. You might not see them at first, but they are there hiding in the spaces between the words.

I don’t know yet, what stories I will pick or which will come to live in this volume. But it is my fervent desire not to write anything here that is not true. Too often in the past I have cooled my words so as not to produce sparks, or hidden my passions under language I thought would go over better in the church-y milieu. But hiding what I really believe in the hope of avoiding an argument left me feeling displaced. My pledge then, to my own heart and to you dear reader, is to be as transparent as possible. My soul says, “Write true things.” And I reply with a phrase from the liturgy of my childhood, “Yes, with the help of God.”

By true things I do not mean things which are purely factual. I am not much one for facts, living so often as I do in the realm of memory, which is faulty; or in the landscape of spirit, which is numinous as best. Quantitative methods do not do much for us here, in the realm of the soul. What I do feel quite fondly towards are what Sabrina Ward Harrison calls “the true and the questions” – those things which are true for me, those which are true for you, and all the bit in between that lead us to wonder. I promise to try to stay there, in that world where questions are Queen.

In a world ripe with “I wonder,” there are a great many things of which I am unsure. If the church can be repaired. If theology can or should be systematic. If “Christian” will ever be a name I can wear without cringing. But this I believe:

The Light is never extinguished.
Jesus loves those on the fringes.
The Muse, she is a foot.

It doesn’t matter if you are unsure precisely what these things mean. It’s okay to be in soft focus around the edges of things. But if any of these ring true to you – if some small wave of recognition surges there behind your breast bone, or catches a bit in your throat, then you are in the right place now. We are meant to be here together—you, I, and the great Divine. And the stories we tell here should be about those things: Jesus, edge dwellers, illumination, inspiration, and the lost bits of the Divine. These are the stories that right now, in this season, will guide us to fertile ground.

Yes, this book is full of stories: things I’ve loved and that have given love to me; places on the journey that have swelled ripe and full of life. All the tales of lost and found that helped me on the way. You might be on the way too. You might find directions for the trip you’ve set out on. You might reconnect with the God you once knew, or find the God you’d never known. Something might ring with you, and you might pack it in your overnight bag. Or you might swallow the whole thing, hook line and sinker. Truthfully, I don’t really know. But I am sure, somewhere in these tales, magic happens – or maybe its miracle – and I think you might want that too.

When explorers used to set sail into the New World, they would take the old maps with them, and draw new ones along the way – making notations, filing in the blank spots. On the edges, where they did not know what lay beyond, they would scrawl “Here There Be Monsters.” You are on the edge of a map, looking across an uncharted sea. But I am here to tell you, there are no monsters here, but instead companions. We may be few in number, but numbers are slippery things and of little import in the end. I am sure there are enough of us here for good company. Set sail with us. Come along.

I’ve been working with life coach Jena Strong of Strong Coaching for the past few months and things are starting to break out all over. After years of driving Jen Lemen crazy with my whining, I’ve finally realized that the only thing left that’s keeping me from publishing is fear itself. Fear that I can’t sustain a book length project. Fear that I can’t get around to finsihing. Fear that I don’t have enough material. (In rational moments, that one really makes me laugh!) Fear that once I get something out there no one will buy it. Fear that once I get something out there everyone will buy it and I’ll be pigeonholed as the “girl who writes about X” for the rest of my live long days. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear. Fear.

As I wrote in one of my answers to the birthday questions, fear is the one thing I am working hard to shed from my self-definition. Instead, I’m ready to embrace whimsy, to do the impractical and live the impulsive life.

So, I decided to write a book this month. Yes, an entire shitty first draft in one wonderful month. And when darling Jena asked me what I was ready for this list poured out:

I’m ready to be seen as an expert.
I’m ready to get paid for my work.
I’m ready to publish.
I’m ready to embrace whimsy.
I’m ready to jump.

My former neighbor and soulful friend Claire Mack is an amazing artist, and I blame and praise her for introducing me to the playground that is mixed media art. (I’m just a novice, but she’s a real pro, as you can see here. I helped inspire the birdcages! Woot me!) When Claire went to Greece a couple of years ago she took a travel art kit with her and made a lovely little abstract book about her adventures. I’ve always adored it, so this month for dreamboarding, with the November Book Experiment on my mind and Claire in my heart, I made not a board but a book. Some of the pages are already filled with the things I need to get to bookville. Others are waiting for words. Every page is lovely. Every page is full of color, and life, and hope. (I’ve scanned them in here, if you’d like to see.)

I’m so enthralled with this charming little number — it kind of reminds me of those little dance cards women used to wear on silk threds around thier wrist in the era of Jane Austin, only with more chutzpah. It’s completely captured my fancy. I carry it around from room to room. Yesterday I even put it in a ziploc bag and carried it with me in my purse!

Sacred Suzie says that the Tarus moon in November is good for breaking boundaries. So here’s what I think. Let’s break the boundary of fear. What fear-free adventure will you dream into reality this month? What will you ask of the Universe? In the words of my beloved Joseph Campbell, “Jump!”

You can find more of Catie’s masterpieces here or here.

This is my dreamboard for September’s full moon.

I believe: time around the dinning table is sacred; lighting candles on the windowsill is ritual; a flock of friends in a cozy home is essential.

Since moving to Denmark 9 months ago we have been lonely. A lot of our time has been spent adjusting to a new culture and just learning our way around, so at first we were okay with the solitude. Hiding out with our nuclear family was sort of novel and refreshing those first few weeks, but now it’s “ikke sa godt.” (not so good.) When we first came here I was burned out from over-hosting — too many dishes, too many personalities, too much dirt tracked across the living room floor. It was good to rest for awhile. But now we are ready to gather a little flock in our home. Flock gathering is kind of my superpower.

We are accustomed to being the hub for friendly gatherings, and I have sent out an invitation for monthly gatherings in our home through the Fall and Winter. I’ve also invited a group of women to come dreamboard around my dinning room table each month. Monday is our first one and I made a dreamboard in advance, because I know my hostessing energy will be too bustle-y to make mine on the actualy night. So here it is — my dream of a tiny flock of lovlies in a cozy home. The words on the left are in Danish and mean “welcome,” “sacred,” and “cozy.” You can see the whole thing better here.

Well, shall we say “Amen, let it be so”? I think so. I do indeed.

This is my dreamboard for August as I pray/wish/hope for shalom in my physical self.

Last month’s dream of curtains and spotlights is still alive and kicking. I’m still playing guitar, and I’m working with a life coach to figure out what that mysterious phrase might mean for me.

For more information about dreamboarding click here. Good shabbat to you!

Update 5/08: After making this dreamboard I started guitar lessons and sang this in front of a live audience (sans guitar.) Yeah me!

Over at Suzie’s Sacred Space, Miss Suze has once again invited people to make a Dreamboard. Using the Full Moon as a reason to focus, and images and colors as a means to communicate, people join Suzie every month to make their dreams a little more concrete and to offer them up to — well– to God/ess, The Universe, their own internal strength and Divinity…(It’s flexible…you get the idea.)

This is my first dreamboard, made on the only painfree afternoon I’ve had in a fortnight. Realistically, I should have made something envisioning health. But instead I followed The Muse deep into my six month obsession with the lyrics of a song–determined that, somehow, I Was Meant for the Stage.

I don’t know precisely what this means, but I am very curious. Is it as simple as my newfound longing to sing and play at some small open mic for my 40th birthday? Or is it more subtle — maybe something about teaching and preaching again someday? I’m not sure.

All I know is that when I watch Alanis impart wisdom to the crowds, I weep at the wonder of it. And when I speak into my microrecorder for some tiny podcast, my heart soars. And that in addition to my longing to write, and write, and write some more; another lover stands patiently in the shadows. He looks like a mic-stand and a stool, and the dimmed lights of a room full of listeners. And in my better moments, when the pain and strain of day to day life makes way for dreaming and vision, I know in that strange clear stillness, that “I was born to raise these hands with quite all around me.”

So here it is, for what it’s worth, for God and the Universe. Amen, may it be so.

What are you dreaming into reality? Write it in the comments below, or make a dreamboard and link us up to it. Watch for an interview with Suzie this Monday or next in my weekly column at BlogHer.com.