My "Body-in-Balance" Ideal Vision for 2012

The untouchable

Upon recommendation of my friend Danielle Rose (whose advice I take to heart), I went to Mass today (and intend to do so every day of Advent. I know - this is unusual for me, but I need my time with Jesus really bad right now).

As I walked to St. Vincent Church, just on the corner of Adams & Figueroa for noon Mass, the thought kept turning over in my mind, "Wait for a miracle." I have been reading, hearing and praying about miracles lately - about God doing something extraordinary with an ordinary moment...or person. Which, though I have lots of gifts and talents (thank God), I am. Just an ordinary person with big hopes and dreams.

So, I walked into the church and followed my intuition to enter the far right door in the back. And as I walked up the aisle to take a seat near the front, a man and I approached one another from opposite directions. He was visibly dirty and smelled bad - a "homeless man." As we got close we both waved. And then as we got closer, he held out his hand to shake mine. And there we stood, hand in hand, for a little while. He looked down and our hands and I looked at him, quietly. He rubbed his thumb back and forth over my thumb. And then I said, softly, "Peace be with you." He pulled me close for a hug and we stood in an embrace for a little longer than a few seconds. I thought that I could maybe say nothing more, and just let the moment be, still and quiet and stinky. :) But I said, "God loves you," after which he pulled away slowly and walked on down the aisle. As I headed toward my seat in the 2nd row, a man in the pew who'd been watching smiled up at me.

I sat in my seat reflecting on this experience that had just passed. Clearly, I thought, this was a small miracle. That I had shown up to church this morning for my "date with Jesus" (Danielle helped me identify that) and then met a man who clearly needed me in the moment. I was there for him - a flesh and bone gift - a human being willing to embrace and be embraced. It was like destiny. And I laughed to myself as the irony of the situation dawned on me, and I recognized God's humor in the situation. I have been praying so hard for God to send me a man... THE man. And I've been longing and lusting so hard after that man (or any man, let's be honest) that God decided to send me a sign that, indeed, my prayers are being heard. I did, in fact, meet a man in church (go figure), but not for the purpose that I had in mind. See, God can turn the desires in my heart into his desires for my heart. And God knew that I needed to encounter someone like this man today to show me that to really love, and to really be an instrument of peace, I need to be willing to go where God needs me and share my love with whoever God puts into my path.

I didn't look around the church for a potential husband today (I do that a lot:). Today, I sat in my own homeless stink connecting with the untouchable Christ. And I thought about the need of that man who reached out to me today, and how it may have been years since he had his arms around a woman. And I quieted my complaining and impatient heart that constantly asks God, "When?" When is it my turn? And I hear God tell me that I what I have today is sufficient enough. The love that I need will be given to me in God's time and God's way.

What do you want of me, Lord? Where do you want me to serve you? Where can I sing your praises? I am your song. - lyrics from Servant Song by Donna Marie Margill, OSM

A Day of Gratitude

Hello, friends,

With Thanksgiving fast approaching, and the end of the year coming, I am anxious to learn how to live in gratitude more and more for what is in my life at this time. I felt called to develop this Day of Gratitude just this morning, and worked to get it up before the end of the day. I'm so happy to share it with you and hope that you find the exercises that I've found and/or written to be helpful to you this holiday season.

I plan to spend my whole day tomorrow working through these various experiences as a way of beginning my celebration of Thanksgiving, and I intend to continue through Christmas and into the new year. My approach is to do it all in one shot, having a kind of "retreat" in my own life all day tomorrow. I know not everyone can afford to do that. That's ok; the exercises work as stand-alone activities as well, so pick and choose what looks good and go for it any day, any time.

Whatever way you use to Experience and Express more gratitude in your life is worth it! I hope you'll share with me and others by commenting here about what is helpful for you, and how you found using any of these activities.

Enjoy and be In Joy!

~Kristin

A Day of Gratitude
(C) 2011 Kristin Firestone
Developed by Kristin Firestone
for Thanksgiving 2011
(www.kristinfirestone.blogspot.com)

Suggested Schedule

8:00 am - Morning Meditation: Anchoring in Grace

8:30 am - Waking Up to Thankfulness and Getting Ready

9:30 am - Establishing an Attitude of Gratitude

10:00 am- Your “Usual Business” (You may have work to complete or errands to run. Or maybe you’ll spend some time catching up on the news, or exercising. Remember to maintain your awareness of what you are doing while you are doing it and, of course, to experience and express gratitude as it comes up throughout this time.)

11:00 am - Reflecting on People As Gifts

12:00 noon - Eating a Meal

                          

1:00 pm - Counting Your Blessings (Watch Them Grow!)

2:00 pm - Praise and Worship

2:30 pm - Resting, Playing, Time with a Friend, Time in Nature, etc.

4:00 pm - Sharing Gratitude: Writing a Gratitude Letter        

5:00 pm - Resting, Eating a Meal, Going Out, etc.

Before bed - Thinking Thankfully

AirBorn

It's harder than it looks.
I'll wake up with a body so sore, I won't know what hit me.

I did this today: aerial tissu/silk. It was an experience I purchased off LivingSocial about a year ago.
Back when I thought I might actually want to run away and join the circus.
I had been threatening to do that off and on over the years, and having just resigned from my job,
I thought I might finally give myself the option.
So today, I cashed in on that voucher - a year later - and got up on the tissu.

Looks a lot easier than it is.
At one point, I admitted the obvious: "I'm not your typical candidate for this kind of work."
It was difficult for me to hoist my robust 170-pound body up using only my arms and one foot wrapped up in fabric.
And, I admit: after the first try, I thought I might have to just stand there and watch the other student's graceful and strength-filled moves for the next hour and a half of the class.
I thought of learning how to knit last month, and how badly I wanted to quit before I'd even begun,
and now "I'm knitting."
So, why not this? Why should I let this defeat me?

So what if I could never do a somersault, or touch my toes without bending my knees, or do a chin-up, or any of those other traumatizing events from junior high P.E.?  This was to be different.

This was an experience. And I picked it for myself. And I was going to stick with it 'til the end of class to see what I was made of.

I did 4 poses today: cocoon, sailboat, candy cane, and something with a name I don't remember. The hardest part was learning to climb, and then wrapping my foot. But with a little help from the instructor, and encouragement from the other (and very proficient) student, I succeeded.

Did I feel stupid? Yes. Did I want to cry? At times. But did I quit? No.

And so, today, I consider myself "air born."

I don't know if I'll get up on that tissu again. Tomorrow, when I can't lift my body out of bed, I'll probably tell you that I'll never get UP again, period.  Tonight, though, I check an item off my bucket list.

Someone asked me if I could spin around and sing up there like Pink. Um, not quite. I could hardly speak, let alone breathe. But I'm willing to work at it.

Check out http://theaerialclassroom.com.

A poem: I googled love

I googled love the other night

Taking too long to load, I cancelled the page

I wish I could do a search for how it used to feel to kiss you.

(C) 2009 Kristin Firestone

A poem: The Message Under the Door

Why, God, do I long so hard for so much?

I yearn today to the point of tears

for flowers already in my hands,

for just a little piece of land

For sweet caresses; a man’s touch

Someone to hold me who loves me so much

For success in projects and a focused goal

for dreams and visions, and to be made whole

For life and love and abundance abounding

to be open and sharing with courage resounding

to be close to your heart to the point I am burning

to not see mistakes, but to honor the learning

To give and let go, go big or go home

to know deep inside I’m not really alone

to grow so at peace with all that is true

to pick up my mat, rise and follow you

I want to be where you are – where are you?

I’m knocking out here – is there something else I should do?

I’m scared and it’s cold – I’ve been out here for days

And I feel so alone. Is there some other way?

to be in your house, to live in your room

to hear your sweet music

to bear in my womb

the love you’ve created – no – the love that you are

I want it so badly

Lord, you have my heart.

Lead me, O God, to the places and those

whose lives and whose souls will need me the most.

(C) 2011 Kristin Firestone

Success

Yesterday in my spiritual direction session, Sister Joan advised me that true success is determined by how well I use the gifts that God has given me. She reminded me that sometimes I won't feel the way I want to feel about things that really have been successful. That I just need to put myself in places where I can be of service, and I never know who I'll touch. Well, today I got to experience success, and that felt really good. I felt good about my performance, and then got to feel ever better when the feedback was so positive. The women at the conference were truly touched and inspired by what I shared. I realize I am blessed to complete that kind of circuit of fulfillment, and also realize that I won't always experience such closure and completion. So, today, I'm grateful for it. :)

A poem: Women

women

night blossoms

opening, watching, waiting

gathered as humanity's hope

conspiracy

Arist: Joyce Polance
Title: Spill

I wrote this cinquain poem on the last day of a retreat I took to Spirit Mountain Retreat in Idyllwild, CA. The retreat focused on themes of autumn, earth connection and sacred cosmology. For me, the weekend was about being immersed in womanhood, watching, listening, learning and contributing, so that I can more fully embrace my Self and my Life as a woman in this world.  There were many gifts and lessons learned - far too many to name here - all which I will carry forward with me into this season  of the year and of my life.

As for this art piece, I just thought it depicted really well the concept of female conspiracy that I tried to capture in my poem. I like that it's risky. I think that being a woman sometimes (ok - usually) is.  Womanhood, for me, lived out in fullness, is a kind of conspiracy that we maintain and to which we contribute, silently sometimes, and fiercely other times. We are the bearers of hope. The universe's secret weapon for planet Earth.

(C) 2011 Kristin Firestone

A poem: Mutually Encouraged

We are inspired
We see our God
in one another
We have been called
each sister and brother
to share our lives
and give to the other
the gift of ourselves
no matter how raw,
unfinished, unwhole
to make perfect the plan
that God has begun
So let your light shine
and let your heart speak
Don't be afraid to share what you think
'Cause just as you fear and doubt and deny
the other is waiting to come look inside
to find all the answers they're seeking in vain
for which they need you to get through the pain
So stand up and witness
Break loose and run free
for here in this place
there's hope, can't you see?
As each of us shares in communion of love
we become one Body
one Lord from above
We speak and we share
We hold and endure
And in our great triumph
God's presence is known
For where two or three
come close in His name
we all are transformed,
made whole; we all gain
The power of love can conquer all fear
when we're willing to listen, come close
and draw near
So don't be afraid, and don't run away
This power of peace is with us to stay.

(C) 2011 Kristin Firestone

"...that we may be mutually encouraged by each other's faith..." Romans 1:12

I met India.Arie.

Um, I totally just met India.Arie tonight.

....

Yeah. I know. :-D :-)  :)

I shook her hand, introduced myself, looked her in the eyes and said "Thank you. For everything." My only wish was to be as sincere as possible. She signed my program cover. I said, "I'm so grateful. Thank you."

I think she got it. :)

What I didn't tell her was that one day soon we'll be singing together on stage. I also didn't mention that I don't know where I'd be, or how I'd've made it through some of the challenges of these last 10 years without her and her expression through her music. What she doesn't know is that she's the ONLY person, place or thing of which I truly consider myself a "fan." And she may never hear all about the many ways in which she has inspired my own music, spirituality, art, ministry, womanhood, relationship with God and life.

But I hope she does. Tonight I could only dream of actually getting to meet her face-to-face and share a moment. Now, I'm on the other side of that. Who knows what the future holds?

Thank you, India. For everything.  And thank you, God, for India.

--------------------------------------
Here's a blog entry I wrote back in January of 2007. I went on a rant about India. Check it out.

This blog's topic is

(2) I love India.Arie.

I know when we're little we're taught to be conservative with the use of the words 'love' and 'hate.'  But I thought about it this morning as I climbed out of bed after listening to a couple of tunes from her newest album (on my Ipod - thanks, Santa!:) that I'm not being dramatic when I say that I love this woman.
Btw, I just discovered that she was born 10/3/75, which gives her a 3 & 1/2 headstart on my life. This is good, 'cause it means I have some time to catch up to her greatness (MAYbe).
I just admire her so much. Her voice, her soul, her expression. She puts into words and music some very real, very deep realities and realizations.
If you are not aware of India.Arie, GET THERE!
This was a short one. I'm starting to get restless to get dressed and started on my day.
I may have a bit more in me, but I'll end this with a quote from one of India's songs that has inspired me to get out of bed today:
It's from the last verse of her song "I Am Not My Hair" where she's singing about Melissa Ethridge (that's my best guess, anyway):
"...she promised God if she was to survive, she would enjoy every day of her life."

Inspirational Prayers

Just sharing. :-)


A Prayer for Dreamers and Artists
by Vienna Cobb Anderson

We pray for the dreamers of this life, O God,
for those persons who imagine new possibilities,
who long for what others cannot perceive,
who spin dreams of wonder and majesty in their minds.
Defend them from ridicule and harsh criticism,
from self-doubt and lack of faith in their dreams,
and from abandonment of this call to make things new.
Grant that from their dreams
may come forth blessings for humankind
to enrich the quality of life
and the wonderment of us all.
Amen.




A Prayer for Openness
by Joyce Rupp


Spirit of freedom,
open my mind and my heart.
Lift the barriers, 
unbind the strong grasp of my demands
when I want everything to go my way.

God of spaciousness,
reach into my inner space,
sweep out all the old clutter,
enlarge my capacity to receive.

Bringer of truth,
empty me of whatever impedes
the growth of our relationship.
Help me recognize and accept 
your sources for my growth.

Creator of the seasons of life,
soften my resistance to emptying.
May I welcome each inner season 
as a catalyst for my transformation.

Faithful Friend,
deepen my trust in you.
Ease my doubts, fears, and discouragements.
When I am feeling vulnerable,
remind me that you are my safe haven.

Holy Whisper,
open the ears of my heart.
May I hear your voice within the silence
as well as within the noise of my life.
Re-awaken me 
so that I can listen to you wholeheartedly.

Bringer of Good and Giver of Growth,
we yearn to be open and receptiveto your generosity.                                                                  May we trust your presence amidst the cycle 


of emptying and filling.

God in the Gazebo

Everyone knows that to get college students to an event, one must serve food. And not just any food. Free food. So, when I decided that I wanted to launch a new type of event at the Mount called "God in the Gazebo," my friend and fellow campus minister, Gaile, suggested that I start with something a little more accessible, and that I definitely serve food. So, we advertized "Snacks in the Gazebo," a chance for students to come out of their dorms and enter a structure that had previously been closed to them: a tall, stone gazebo, looking something like Rapunzel's tower. Straight out of a storybook (like most of the buildings here at MSMC's Doheny campus). The flyer was a night shot of the gazebo lit up from the inside and from on top the tower, beckoning like a lighthouse into the night. "Spooky" is how one student described the building, which sits closed, locked and tucked away into a corner of the property just beyond where anyone would typically travel. Getting girls out there would require something tantalizing, and getting them to come back, something creative.

I went around with cookies at 7:30, hoping to entice them with my invitation to come out at 9 for said snacks. But when I had made it through half of a floor and my cookie plate was nearly empty (& after I realized I wouldn't have enough snacks for all the girls who said they were coming), I decided to abort that operation and just head for set up. The crew met me in my room (Flor, Jas & Tina) and we took to transforming the creepy, abandoned tower into a space fit for guests. The spread was bountiful, the candles plenty, and the incense sweet. Soft ambient music played from Flor's iPod (an eclectic blend of Japanese, Celtic and other peace-inducing melodies) and "Snacks in the Gazebo" began. As girls arrived, they gathered in around the food table, munching and talking. I could almost hear the sigh of relief as some of them shared that this was their study break, and now the smoke and soft light could whisk them away to another place, even if for a moment.

I enjoyed my talks with many of the young ladies, as I listened to them share about their adjustment to college life, courses of study and stresses. I even found some Valley girls here - some ladies who grew up in and attended school in my hometown of Canoga Park. Some faces and names were new, and others I encountered again for second and third times. My struggle is remembering their names. I hope to get better at that.

Tonight, I felt a presence in that Gazebo. Particularly, I felt the presence of the spirit of one person supporting me - one whose ministry greatly influenced me in direct and indirect ways throughout and beyond my own college experience: Sr. Peg Dolan. She had such a beautiful way of communicating God's presence to groups and individuals just by being herself, listening well and sharing carefully-chosen words of wisdom and encouragement. Thankfully, with the help of her spirit and the Holy Spirit, a lot of candllight, and some food, people came together just a little more closely tonight. We seemed to float on grace. I'm grateful (and only a little surprised) that, despite the culinary focus, we did encounter God in the Gazebo tonight, after all.

I 'Heart' Veggies

I have begun a love affair with vegetables (& fruits, but I already loved those, so it goes without saying). For the past 11 days, I have eaten &/or drunk the juice of solely vegetables and fruits. That's it. No bread, no nuts, no beans, no dessert, no meat -- just the stuff that grows out of the ground. Why, might you ask, have I subjected my body to such treatment, my taste buds to such deprivation? All in the name of health. I saw a documentary (go figure) made by this guy, Joe Cross, who fasted for 60 days, ingesting nothing but the fresh juice of plants. The health benefits he experienced were so pronounced, that I was inspired, both to do it myself (on a much smaller scale; I'm going 15 days), and to learn more about the effects that the various foods we eat have on our bodies. To learn more, go to www.fatsickandnearlydead.com, or go straight to the site about doing a fast yourself at www.jointhereboot.com. And perhaps you, too, will begin a new love affair. With food, and with yourself. Peace. :)

Beyond the Visual

"Are your dreams taking flight, or are you stuck in your shoes? Well, it's time to lace 'em up..." 

- from "Beyond the Visual" by Joe Melendrez, &E Dufresne and me. :)

Make It Count

In the last week and a half, I’ve sung for 200+ pre-teens, presented to a group of 20 youth ministers, read a 316-page book in one plan ride. I’ve traveled from L.A. to PHX to FL and back again. I’ve played keyboard, sung karaoke, worn straight hair, worn a bustier, led meditations, cursed out drivers. I’ve eaten 2 cheeseburgers, pigged out on fries, not done a minute of exercise. I’ve drunk beer, wine and vodka and watched girls dance on a rooftop patio of a South Beach hotel. I’ve put my feet in Atlantic waters and my boyfriend’s shower, all in the same 24 hours. I’ve had more conversations about my love life and work life than I have all year. So why, then, do I feel so useless? I feel drained – wiped out. I am unable and unwilling to do anything on my to-do list tonight, which includes the mundane (laundry, packing, cleaning, brushing my teeth, even) and the sublime (writing a sermon, learning a song for a memorial service, lesson planning for the religion classes I’ll be taking over in less than 2 weeks, just to name a few). All I want to do is hear from my boyfriend, watch Steel Magnolias and cry myself to sleep. No – even that would be too involved. I don’t even want to get up off this couch and put myself to bed right now. I want to be in one place, with everything I want within reach. I don’t want to have to move or go anywhere to get everything I want and need. Instead, I go to Arizona for my lover, Hemet and Chatsworth for parental comfort, family dinner for a free meal and niece/nephew time, West Hills for work, Pasadena for singing, Canoga Park for aggravation, Santa Monica for community, Simi for a place to lay my head, Texas for LIFE. And in just a few short days, I’ll be back in North Hollywood for old friends and new digs. Seven months later, and I’m still all-over-the-place. I feel like I’m running in circles, but not getting anywhere. Seven months later, and where am I?

Back in NoHo, back in the classroom, back to my heaviest weight, back to basics. I have gone back to basics this year. From a powerhouse coming-out concert to a slimmed-down life. I may not have ended up anywhere different (yet), but I’ve traveled far to get to where I am.

I am here – free from worries about whether or not I will be taken care of. I know I will.
Here – free to dance and sing without a whole lot of care about what anyone is thinking of me.
Here – playing with my life in a way that says “I care about me, but don’t take myself too seriously.”
Here – in a loving relationship with a man I knew as a boy (him, not me – I was still a girl), marked by a sense of mystery, urgency and joyfulness.
Here – doing what I love and loving what I do, and maybe not making “a living” at it (yet), but doing it just the same, and doing it more and more.
Here – in a home with loving friends who are like family, reconnected through time and space to relearn and see anew parts of myself I have loved and lost, and now love again.
Here – alone, but not lonely. By myself, but more myself than I’ve ever been. Effortless and easy and flowing like a river.
Here – with $620 in my bank account and no happier or worse off than when I had $1,000 or $1.

Numbers. Letters. Degrees and determiners. What are the indicators of a happy life? Days off, time off, get off. Or get on. Off or on, it doesn’t really matter as long as I’m on track in what counts. My self worth, my sense of dignity of myself and others, my love and acceptance of what is, and who is and how the world works. These things are more intact today than they were a year ago. True, I may not be conducting myself with the same care and intentionality than I was when I was learning, but I’m here, and I’m still breathing, and every day I get up and do it all over again. I am here, and I am healthy, and I am doing this. And I’m alright.

I still get excited about things. I still get happy when I’m with people. I still feel the wave of joy through my body often. I am ok. I can reach out and touch that which belongs to me. I can reach out and hold those who I love.

To each be the glory of God. A phrase to sum up how I want to live my life, how I want to be remembered. This is what came to me today as I meditated on my life at 75. There’s a number: 75. More than twice where I am now. That’s hard to believe, and it’s harder to imagine, living a life the length of what I’ve already done. I want it! Believe me – I want it more than anything. To live a long, long, happy life. I can’t shake the feeling that it’s time for me to let go of that plan and really be here each and every day to enjoy what comes, and what counts. I want to enjoy the moments, and make more enjoyable ones for myself. Laundry, bills, dreams and schemes can wait (at least for a little while). Being in the moment to enjoy what’s here – that’s the secret of life. And I want to be here. Not in July, when I’ll be in Texas (it’s inevitable!). Not in June, when I’ll likely be in Scottsdale. Not in May when I’ll be nearing the end of my teaching stint, and celebrating my 32nd birthday. Not even in Saturday, when I’ll be singing songs at a memorial service for a woman I’ve never met. I’ll be here, at 9:39pm Wednesday night, 2/23/11, having just completed the best 10 days that I’ve had in a long time. Warm, tropical breezes; soft, passionate kisses; tight, love-filled squeezes and joy-filled reunions. How much have I allowed myself to really take in and love each and every one of those moments? How well have I bathed myself in, drunk into my soul and relished the pure delight of being alive? Have I let myself be scared, and really felt the fear? Have I let myself feel elated and really risen to the heights? In some ways, I say yes, and in others no. I know I’ve held myself back, teetering on the edge of what seemed a perilous wall back onto which I’d never be able to climb again. But what if I fall and don’t ever get back up? What if humpty dumpty couldn’t get put back together again? Then I guess his insides oozed out all over the sidewalk while his cracked egg shell laid there in pieces. I just hope it was hot enough to cook him, because then all the king’s horses and men who came to his rescue at least could feast off some fried egg before heading back to duty. And God knows I’ve been pretty obsessed with eggs since this whole low-carb thing started.

That’s something I’m looking forward to – being in a place for a while where I have the fridge stocked with my favorite goodies. Being in one place for a few months and living there and enjoying it and soaking it in while it lasts. Because it won’t be long before I’m off to the next place, and who knows how long that will last? All this moving around is good for something – it’s teaching me that nothing is permanent, so I may as well enjoy it while it lasts. Rather than mourn the inconvenience of it all, rather than use it as an excuse for staying detached, instead, I can jump into it, head first (or feet, if I’m not feeling so inclined to mess up my hairdo that day) and enjoy it thoroughly, the way I used to enjoy a slumber party like it would last forever. Like it was my last night on earth.

What if tonight was my last night on earth?

I ordered Thai delivery. My favorites: coconut soup, eggplant chicken and thai iced tea (which she threw in for free, thank you very much). I watched my shows – all three of ‘em: How I Met Your Mother, Modern Family and Fringe. I called some people I had been postponing calling. And now it’s 9:49, and I’ve typed over 2 pages of great stuff, taking myself from sullen and grumpy to happy to be alive.

It’s just like one of my favorite songwriters wrote: I’m gonna be ok. Everything’s gonna be ok. Oh, wait – that’s me. I wrote a song about a year ago, and then another one, and then yet another. And I had them scored. And I produced a concert where I sang my heart out to over 200 people who love me. And now I’m waiting, on bated breath for what’s next. But it’s not gonna happen to me – I need to make it happen. And I do that one step at a time. One song at a time. One performance at a time. One audience at a time. Just like my heart beats, I accomplish my purpose one at a time. And that starts now, and it is now. And it starts here. And here I am, writing about it, on a Wednesday night, seven months later, in a place I never expected to be, with a life I couldn’t have predicted I’d be living, and loving every minute of it.

I vow to hug tighter, linger longer, love louder and live stronger than ever before. And if I die before I wake, I pray the lord my soul to bake, so others around me can feast on my wholesome goodness, and have life abundantly.